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waywardimpalawriter · 3 years

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Book Boyfriend a Frankie Morales x Plus Size Reader fic Part two the final

Book Boyfriend

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Plus Size F! Reader

Characters: Frankie Morales, Reader, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, William “Ironhead” Miller, Ben “Benny” Miller, Isabella Morales (OC)

Setting: Two years after the events in Colombia (Triple Frontier)

Rating: R, NSFW

Warnings: Smut, Soft Frankie (yes that has to be a warning), cursing, teasing, unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), tooth rotting fluff, mixed with a little hurt/comfort, mention of abuse,

Word count: Part 1: 10,284, Part 2: 16,388 (sorry not sorry, I blame Frankie for the wordiness)

Summary: You’ve been so engrossed in your currant book series its lead to Frankie feeling a little left out.

Notes: This is my first Frankie Morales/Pedro Pascal Fic, so I’m hoping everyone loves it as much as I did writing it. Something a little fluffy I thought of while thinking of my own favorite book boyfriends. Using the translator Systran for my very bad Spanish translations. A grateful thank you to @icanbeyourjedi for helping me out with Frankie’s Dog tags.

Tag list: @manalg14 @songbirdcannabe

From Part 1

Finally, home from running errands and wrangling a very fussy Isabella though you couldn’t blame her really. Exhaustion setting into your very bones from running around town, stopping around noon at a play/girlfriend's date. Talking with the girls as the kids played, laughing over the latest things their men have done and the newest book in the series everyones reading. Heat flared to life at the memory of Frankie from this morning during your talk when things turned towards the more intimate. Though you’d refused to share the details just saying he’s better than any book boyfriend you’ve read. Getting teased by your friends up until the moment you left for the grocery store with a very sleepy little girl in your arms.

Chuckling softly you put Isabella down for another longer nap so you could get the rest of the groceries in from the car. Pulling your cell out to dial Santi’s number putting the slim piece of tech between your shoulder and ear having forgot the buds in your purse. Not wanting to waste time on getting the steaks marinated for tonight, you decided a neck pain would be a better choice for now.

Breathing a sigh when he picks up on the second ring, “What do I owe for this unexpected call?” smooth baritone filtering over the line making you smile.

“I need a favor Pope.”

Chuckling, “Finally came to your senses and dropped Fish for me huh, hermosa?” teasing quality to his voice, you picking up the sounds of water running in the background.

Knowing he’s just playing with you though at one time you’d entertained the idea of asking Santiago out. You never got the nerve up instead one cold beer accidentally poured down your shirt later and here you were with the man of your dreams and his beautiful little girl who you’ve fell in love with. You still chuckle at how sweetly apologetic Frankie had been, cheeks stained red with embarrassment at having spilled his drink over you. Though in reality it almost hadn’t been an accident, as all three guys noticed the way he looked at you. Watching the sway of your generous hips to the music, glancing away when you scanned the bar. Never seeing your own eyes rest on him for longer than normal. Only to dart away and back to your friend on your left.

They plotted, Will trying to talk Pope and Ben out of the stupid idea, but neither would listen, while Frankie took off to the bathroom. Coming back, he’d made a beeline for the bar to grab another mug of beer, taking up the spot right next to you. That’s when Benny tried to strike, sneaking up to Frankie’s left side looking to ask you out himself. Only to be beaten when you turn towards Frankie and he to you, a guy from behind barreling his way through the crowd and into your back. Pushing you forward and into the glass he held. Cold beer pouring down your front as a warm hand pressed against your thick waist to keep you from falling. Your eyes locked and from that moment on you’d been a goner.

“Hello earth to Y/N you still with me woman? Or fantasizing about me,” knowing there’s a grin on his lips by the tone of his voice.

Eyes rolling, as your hands work to finish seasoning the steaks, “Keep dream Pope maybe one day it’ll come true. Through I wouldn’t hold my breath,” snarky comment leaving your lips with a grin tugging the corners. “You busy tonight and tomorrow?”

“Free as a bird, why you have something planned? Party? Or are you finally gonna ask Frankie to marry you?” the last question only a half joke knowing that the man in question wanted to ask that one himself.

Gapping for a moment but finding the idea appealing, “Think he’d be okay with that if I did?” Of course, you’d thought about marrying Frankie. Hell for the last year you wanted to ask or at least hint at it. But not wanting to overstep any boundaries he set up for himself. Never brought up, though you’ve thought about it a few times. Finding yourself for the most part content having them both in your life.

“He’d die, but say yes so I think it’s a go,” smiling at the thought. You fit right in with the boys, giving hell just as much as you got. But most of all helping Frankie through his demons, not shying away when things got tough. Rather suiting up for battle with a determination he hadn’t seen in seasoned soldiers. Not to mention the way you took care of Isabella as if she’s your own daughter. “Remember I’m best man, Will and Benny bridesmaids I’m sure they’ll look good in whatever color you choose.”

Giggling at that idea, “I’ll put them in hot pink dresses, halter tops to show off those muscles,” fully belly laugh roars from your lips at the very through of those two grown men in dresses. Santi’s gruff laughter only serves to spur yours on, making you grip the counter to keep from slipping to the floor in mirth. Sobering, grabbing the towel to dry your laughter tears away, “I’m gonna have to tell them you know that right Pope?”

Snorting, “Of fucking course you would,” wiping his own mirthful tears away. “Anything else you needed to ask me hermosa and please I don’t do flower arrangements. Cake tasting I’m all for.”

Finished with the streaks, setting those aside to grab the potatoes to get them ready next while answering, “So noted but you might have to fight Benny on that one babe.” Pulling the aluminum foil out to wrap up the fork stuck potatoes, “That’s not why I called actually. I’m wondering if you could baby sit Isabella till tomorrow afternoon?”

“That’s a no brainer of course I will, Uncle Santi to the rescue,” looking for the car seat and his keys. “I’ve got her bed set up and extra clothes.”

“No junk food Pope or I’ll skin you alive when I see you tomorrow,” voice taking on a hard mama edge. Already having packed a small bag of items, knowing full well that Santi wouldn’t have them on hand. Nor did you expect the poor inexperience man to know what to feed a two almost three-year-old. “I’ve got her a goodie bag packed with what you’ll need and if anything happens…”

“I’ll call Will and Ben, we’ll figure it out unless it’s an emergency,” placing his buds in to continue the conversation and setting to work on getting the new car seat in place. Double checking the instructions, he would never let anyone know he used, wanting to keep his goddaughter safe. The very idea of her getting hurt knocked the wind from his lungs. Shaking that thought aside, knowing you wouldn’t ask for this favor if you and Frankie didn’t trust him. “Better yet, we can three men and a baby it tonight.”

“Oh, good Lord if my child comes back with a tattoo or piecing and drinking a Budweiser, I will have all three of your cocks mounted on my wall.” Trying to make your voice hard but wanting to bust out laughing again. Almost straining yourself from holding back the giggles.

Fake gasp leaving his lips, “Have some taste woman it’ll be a tequila, if it's Bud blame Frick and Frack for that.” Catching the ‘your child’ comment makes him grin knowing his best friend and Goddaughter are in good hands. “Careful cariño your mama bear is showing.”

“I’ll show you three mama bear when I’ve strung you up by your balls if there is one hair on my precious child’s head missing,” grinning, knowing that you love that little girl with all your heart.

“Damn Y/N I didn’t know you were this blood thirsty or is it a cock and ball fascination? Bigger question does Fish know?” biting back the laughter bubbling up, triumphant look on his handsome face when he’s finished putting the car seat.

Shaking your head small giggle leaving your lips, “Watch yourself Santiago Garcia or you’ll find out just what I keep in my purse.”

“Now you have me intrigued. Thank packing heat in that monster bag of yours?” sliding into the driver seat phone call switching to the onboard Bluetooth. Plucking the earbuds out to stow them while driving. “When did Frankie teach you how to shoot?”

Heat tingling your neck, as you sputter out an answer, “He actually didn’t teach me.”

“What’d mean?” confused frown marring his handsome features as he stops at a red light. Hearing his phone ding for a text message from Frankie, deepening his confusion. “Does Fish know Isabella is staying with me tonight?”

Thanking God for the last question, “No, I didn’t tell him just yet. It’s a surprise. Why?”

“He’s texting me now, asking if I can watch Isabella I bet,” pulling into the nearest gas station to answer. “Shall I tell him?” smirking when he hears the low growl from the other end of the phone. “Take that as a no Bella.”

“I swear on all that’s holy Santiago if you tell Frankie…”

“Yes, yes you’ll have my dick nailed to the wall as a trophy,” rolling his eyes though you can’t. Light chuckle barely sounds when he reads what Frankie texted, “So, violent today Y/N.”

Catfish: Necesita un hermano favorito?

(Need a favorite brother?)

Pope: Nombrarlo

(Name it.)

Not hearing anything for a moment, bottom lip trapped between your teeth standing in the kitchen worried your plan could fall apart. But trusted Santiago, “What’s he asking about Santi?”

“Hasn’t yet, just chill Bella like I said he’s probably asking the same question.” Sure, enough the next text that comes in, has another chuckle leaving his lips.

Catfish: Puedes cuidar hasta mañana?

(Can you babysit till tomorrow?)

Pope: Lo que está en él para mí

(What’s in it for me?)

Knowing Frankie’s groaning at his answer, Santi can’t help but tease his best friend. “I was right he’s asking the same thing you owe me five bucks.”

“Fuck you Pope we didn’t make a bet,” rolling your eyes this time and breathing a sigh of relief. You set to work making the key lime pie for dessert, aiming to get everything ready before Frankie came home from work. Along with a shower and dressed in the new lingerie you bought a week ago.

“Shame I could use the dollar bills,” shaking his head at the stupid code he and Frankie came up with for strip club.

Chuckling, “Next time Pope I know the girls miss you raining them with those bills and sticking them in their G-string.”

“How did…” eyes wide when the phone dinged with another text message.

Catfish: Tiempo con tu ahijada y debía uno. Además, voy a preguntarle esta noche.

(Time with your goddaughter and owed one. Plus, I’m going to ask her tonight.)

Forgetting all about how you knew what that code meant, Santiago let out the loudest yell of excitement. Gaining the attention of a few people pumping gas with ‘you crazy’ looks and also making you worry.

“Pope what’s wrong? You, okay?” genuine fear lacing your tone, holding the phone tighter hand starting to shake. “You didn’t have an accident, did you? Don’t you dare ruin my plans for tonight Santiago Garcia.”

Knowing the last threat means nothing, Santi tries to calm down not wanting to give away that he knows something about Frankie’s plan. “Yeah,” clearing his throat to hide the fact he’s lying. “Yeah, I’m good cariño just found out my team won,” hoping you don’t see through his lie. Something you’re almost scary good at.

Releasing the breath held trapped in your lungs relieved sigh pushed out along with the air. Heart broken if anything happened to him. In a relative short period of time all four men have situated themselves into your heart in different ways. The very idea of loosing them would shattered the strongest muscle in your body. The wise words of your favorite whiskey drinking Hunter comes to mind that family doesn’t end in blood.

“Don’t ever do that again Santiago or might just have to punish you in ways that won’t you won’t like,” leaning against the counter trying to calm your racing heart.

“You wouldn’t cariño you love me too much,” grinning, leaning over to scoop up his cell phone from where it landed in his excitement to answer Frankie.

Pope: Acerca de maldito tiempo hombre, sí, voy a cuidar a mi godhija esta noche para que usted y el pronto para ser esposa puede carajo toda la noche.

(About fucking time man, yes, I'm gonna take care of my goddaughter tonight so you and soon to be a wife can fuck all night.)

Chuckling, Pope places his cell phone on the cup holder and restarts the truck heading first towards Will and Benny’s place. Hearing the groan leave your throat followed by a quick ouch. “Now what’d you do?” hissing coming over the speakers in his truck making him worry this time.

“Just nicked my finger is all Santi I’m not gusting blood or anything. Though I don’t recommend getting lime juice in the cut, hurts like a mother fucker.” Moving to the sink to clean the cut, just one more thing to put you behind in getting things ready.

“Do you kiss Frankie with that mouth woman?” pulling into the drive giving a couple of blasts on the horn.

“On the mouth and other places to Pope,” smirking at the disgusted sound leaving his lips. Bandaging your finger up to get back to work. Hearing a horn sound over the cell line, “You hear alright Pope? I heard you honk over the phone.”

“Picking Will and Ben up then heading over to yours,” seeing the two brothers come out he puts the call on mute to speak with them. Rolling the window down to talk, “Suite up we got ourselves a mission.”

Glancing between each other than back at Pope, “The hell you say man, the game’s on tonight, Ben and I were heading to the Roadhouse to watch and see how many times Benny get’s shot down.”

“Fuck you Ironhead,” punching his brother’s arm, leaning on the mirror hearing your voice muttering something over the truck’s speakers. “Why you talking to Y/N?”

“No thanks man you ain’t my type too many dangly bits for my taste,” snarking back landing his own punch to Ben’s shoulder.

Rolling his eyes, “Y/N called we got babysitting duty tonight, Frankie’s gonna pop the question but neither know of the other’s plans.”

Loud cheers erupt from both men to the point Santi must bang on the side of the truck to get their attention to shut up. Having heard you ask something he goes to unmute, “What did you say Y/N I couldn’t make it out over Frick and Frack’s noises assholes selves.”

Huffing, “I asked if one of you could start a fire for me, Frankie gets weird if he knows I did it myself.”

“That’s cause last time you tried you almost burned the house down woman,” Pope snarked pushing Benny away

Coming back, hitting Pope in the chest, “Of course, gorgeous we’ll take care of that for you,” Benny chimes in leaning into the window so you can hear him.

“Down boy, or you won’t get a slice of the pie I’m making,” chuckling you put the phone down long enough to put said pie in the oven and slam the door making you jump a little.

Playfully putting his hand to his chest, “Marry me Y/N, Frankie doesn’t deserve you.”

Both Pope and Will snort at that, but it’s your sweet voice that answers with, “Sorry sweetheart I’m spoken for by a sweet little girl who you’ll babysit tonight and one handsome flyboy that does some very wicked things with his hands.”

Groaning, “Don’t give us any visions please I’ll need bleach to get Fish’s naked ass outta my head,” shaking to get the images out. Laying his forehead on his arms while leaning against the truck trying to rub that idea out of his mind, having come to love you like a sister. Will didn’t want to know anything about your sex life.

“Aww what’s the matter William you didn’t see enough of it while bunking together on tour?” teasing tone to your voice plopping down in a chair to wait on the pie. “What time will you three Stooges get here?”

Shrugging, “Twenty or thirty minutes give or take, depends on how long it takes the blond wonder twins to pack a go bag.” Santi answers getting murders looks from both men.

“Make sure you ask them their measurements Santi,” biting your bottom lip to keep from laughing harder. “Let them know pink won’t clash with their skin tone.”

The looks only intensify combined with a confusion at your words, “Thanks Annie Oakley.” Groaning head dropping to the steering wheel. “Which reminds me you’ll have to tell us the story of how you learned to use a gun. See ya in a few,” hanging up before you can say anything else and dig his hole deeper.

“What exactly did she mean by measurements?” crossing his arms over muscular chest, glaring at Pope.

Resting an arm on his brother’s shoulder, “And pink? Really, I’m more of a coral,” trying to keep from chuckling while giving Pope his own glare. Benny realizing what he’d said at the end and tries to cover with adding, “When did Y/N learn to shoot, better yet where’d she get the gun?”

Shrugging, “Just found out today, gonna ask when we get there.” Knowing you can handle yourself more concerned that you’ve learned the correct way to handle a gun. Never wanting you to actually have a need to shoot but incase Santiago wants to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself. Especially if Frankie didn’t show you or know. His mind rewinding to the fact, “Coral? What the fuck dude? How the hell do you even know what that is?”

Dying of laughter, Benny turns giving both of them the middle finger salute heading back into the house to grab both his and Will’s go bags. As promised Pope pulled into the driveway thirty minutes later, all three exist, not even bothering to knock just walking right in. Fresh baked goodies and coffee brewing meeting their noses, along with a squeal of excitement from a little blur of yellow and blue.

“Ukcl Po,” flinging herself into his arms, as he’s crouched down to scoop her up unconcerned with his knees popping, spinning around to her delighted peels of laugher.

Hugging her close, seeing you come around the corner with an arm load of firewood bright smile on your lips. “Good y’all finally showed up thought I’d have to start the fire myself,” joking tone. Using your elbow to wave them in.

Will passes Pope and Isabella pausing to ruffle her hair, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead then going over to take the arm load from you. Making you roll your eyes reluctantly giving it over when he gives you that stern look.

“I’m not helpless you know I can move a couple of pieces,” tossing your hands up, smacking Will’s shoulder as he passes.

Shaking his head, “And have Frankie put us on freeze for letting his woman get hurt. Nope, no thank you ma’am I happen to like having certain body parts stay in respective places.”

“It’s not Fish you have to worry about rearranging parts Ironhead its Y/N,” bouncing Isabella in his arms smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Ain’t that right Annie Oakley?” grin widening when you turn to scowl at Pope.

“Careful Santi or you’ll wearing the pink dress,” crossing your arms to glare at both men, as Benny chuckles beside Pope. In between making faces at Isabella, her giggles making beautiful music.

Rejoining the group after dusting his hands on his jean clad thighs, “Anything else you need done Y/N?” scenting the air a small growl leaving Will’s stomach.

“You got a bear in there William?” taking Isabella from Pope to put her on your hip while walking back to the kitchen and check on the potatoes.

Low whistle leaving all three men making heat race up your neck a small squirm moves over your body when they see everything you’ve got planned out for tonight. Steaks siting out ready for the grill along with the corn on the cob, salad finished and chilling in the fridge, and the pie cooling. Out of the corner of your eye you spy Benny going towards the pie. Quickly spinning making Isabella giggle to land a hard smack to his hand. He pulls back quickly puppy eyes in place and howls of laughter from the other two men.

“Ben Miller how dare you try to stick a finger in my pie,” scowl firmly in place, Isabella matching the look or at least trying to its more adorable than anything.

Unlike yours which is truly scary and has Ben raising his hands in surrender. “You sure you weren’t in the military gorgeous that look alone would’ve made plenty green recruits wet themselves,” backing up when you go to smack his shoulder.

“Shame none of you will get a slice now,” placing Isabella in the highchair feeling a rush of air pass you by. Looking up to see all three sitting at the table with pleading looks on their faces. Shaking your head smile sliding over your lips, “You three are the worse right Bella baby?”

“Ight mama,” nodding her head quickly, clapping her hands in excitement.

To which Ben leans over to tickle her sides making her squeal even louder. Will and Pope both making silly faces none of them noticing when you pull your cell phone out to take a short video. Sending it to Frankie with the simple words “Our family”. Soft smile gracing your features watching them interact. Your heart expanding in love but also hurting. Wishing, not for the first time, that your own mom and siblings where here.

“Hey,” calling from his spot. Having looked away so Santi wouldn’t see your eyes, turning to pull plates from the cabinet missing the frown turning down his lips. Raising to go over, “You, okay?”

Wanting Frankie there to chase away these thoughts you’ve tried to keep buried. You nod not trusting your voice right then to answer with words. Hating how your mood so quickly shifted spoiling the moment.

Placing a hand on your shoulder to turn and have you face him, “You know you can tell us, me anything Y/N, we’re your family and family takes care of one another.”

Taking a deep breath wringing your hands in front of you, knowing he’s right. Seeing for yourself the genuine concern in those deep brown pools. “My thoughts went to having my blood family here, my mom,” turning to look at Isabella, “she would’ve loved her so much.” Glancing up to see both Will and Benny giving you reassuring smiles that accompany nods of affirmation having heard Santiago’s words about family.

“Blood doesn’t always make family sweetheart standing by someone through thick and thin, never giving up, letting them into your heart that’s what makes a family.” Taking Isabella’s little hand in his, Ben looks at you his words making you tear up but this time in a good way. Eyes lingering on the youngest Miller for a bit longer.

Seeing your tears, “I’d cry to if I looked at Benny’s ugly mug, got a face only a mother could love,” trying to lighten the mood. Hearty laughter filling the kitchen when you toss a balled-up towel at Will’s head. Landing perfectly over his face getting high pitched giggles from Isabella.

“Thank you,” sincerity laced through you tone giving both Miller boys a smile once the towel is off Will’s face. Turning back to Pope to pat his chest, giving him the same smile. “Grab the coffee for me Santi please, looks like I’ve got a pie to cut into.”

With a two-finger sloppy salute and a kiss to your cheek, Santi grabs the glass coffee pot from the maker, sugar and cream sitting nearby. “Anytime cariño, anytime.”

Each with their hands full come to the table setting various items down, coffee poured, and pie sliced out with a heavy dollop of Reddi-whip atop. Moans of pleasure leave all three men, along with compliments and praise for your baking skills. Benny proposing once again which you turn down of course. Everyone tucking in after that first bite including Isabella who has more cream on her cheeks, chin, nose and shirt than her mouth. Her babbling on about different things while enjoying her pie. Brought a warmth to your heart, a rightness you hadn’t felt in your life till now.

Reaching over to wipe off her face, the smile gracing your lips made all three men grin. Santi pulls his phone out to take a couple of pictures to send to Frankie later, knowing he’d want to see them. Hearing the tale tell sound of a camera going off makes your head whip around.

Hating to have your picture taken when it’s needed, “Really I look like shit Santi and you’re taking pictures?” though you try to be mad at him, you fail knowing he’s doing it for Frankie.

“Shit…” little voice states making all four grownups turn to look at her, eyes wide before busting out laughing.

“You’re fault mama bear, I can’t wait till I tell Fish,” gripping the table to keep from falling from his chair laughing, fist banging the hard wood making the plates and forks jump around.

Face going into your hands to hide your embarrassment from the boys, all of whom can’t stop the gruff laughter from bubbling up in their chests. Worried, Isabella reaches out with a pie covered hand to touch your arm. “Oh, ta mama?” sticky fingers patting quickly.

Looking over at her you reach to taking her face in your hands, smile breaking through the embarrassment, to kiss her forehead. “I’m okay baby girl, your uncles are just evil is all,” giving her a wink that makes another peel of laughter leave her lips. Turing to Pope, “I may have to make good on that threat to hurt you by shooting you.”

Still laughing, Santi shakes his head never feeling more at home or free than when he’s surround by his family. Eyes crinkling, he sends a wink to Isabella before fixing his eyes on you. “Speaking of which you never told me who taught you.”

“Must you know all my secrets Pope?” teasing light entering your eyes that fixed on the man. With a heavy fake sigh, seeing the concern under the mirth, you answer. “My brother actually taught me years ago. Frankie took me to the range for practice a couple of times but we ah,” looking at Isabella she covers the little girl’s ears. “We got banned from the place,” giving them a shrug noticing the way all three were giving you a weird look. “Who knew Frankie like’s a woman who could handle a gun. He got handsy and one thing led to another…” smirk sliding over your lips.

“Stop, stop, stop I beg you,” from Will.

Waving his hands before covering his ears, humming “It’s the end of the world as we know it” trying to get what he just heard from his head. “That’s so wrong,” from Benny.

Santiago didn’t look to fazed just a grin on his lips, “That’s Frankie for ya. Should ah known he’s kinky as fu…”

Whipping around to smack Pope before he can finish that word, “Language Garcia.”

“Hey, you said a bad word,” winking at Isabella who clapped her pie covered hands at her uncle Pope. “How good a shot are you?”

Snorting, “Not nearly what Frankie can do but I managed to land a few head and chest shots before it got a little too hot and bothered.” Laughing when all three groan while you rise to pick Isabella up, “Fire please boys and light the grill too while I get baby girl here cleaned up and ready.”

“As long as you stop talking about yours and Fish’s sex life, I’ll do anything you ask,” Benny begs standing, grabbing the empty plates and mugs. Trying to push the thoughts running through his mind on film reel.

Pausing by the kitchen door leading towards the bedrooms, “Careful Ben I might have to take you up on that one. There’s gutters needing cleaned and a garage plus the house needs repainting,” giving him a mischievous smirk at his groan. Pausing to place a chase kiss to his stubbled cheek in thanks for cleaning up.

“If anyone is evil it’s you woman, go,” waving his free hand at you. “Get our little princess cleaned up we’ll handle this,” heading to the sink to wash dishes. Will heading to the living room to start the fire and Pope out the back door to get the grill going for you.

Standing there a moment tears pricking the back of your eyes, “Our family little one.” Heading then to her bedroom to change and clean the sticky pie from her hands and face. Coming back out ten minutes later a sugar high little girl running ahead of you and into Will. Who scoops her up holding her against his chest.

“Y’all might be in for it tonight with sugar baby there,” giving them an apologetic look, handing off Isabella’s backpack filled with cloths and the reusable grocery bag with food to Ben. Giving him a tight hug first, moving to Pope before ending with Will and Isabella giving your little girl a kiss on the forehead. “No, tattoo’s or piercings,” jokingly said a hitch in your voice at seeing her go.

It's the first time she’ll sleep somewhere that’s not her room it makes your chest tighten in worry. Though you know good well that all three men would protect her with their lives.

Slinging an arm around your shoulder as you all walk outside, “Don’t worry Y/N we got this have a good time tonight and know that Isa is taken care of.”

“Three men and a baby huh?” recalling Pope’s earlier comment. “My only question? Which one of you is Tom Selleck?” trying to shake the nerves, using jokes to set everyone including yourself at ease.

“Who and what are you talking about?” Benny chimed in opening the back door of the truck to place Isabella in her car seat.

“Guttenberg,” saying the same thing together, you and Pope laugh wrapping an arm around your shoulders for a half hug placing a kiss to your temple. “You’re too young to remember plus it’s chick flick,” quickly moving away from your pinching fingers.

“They’ve finally cracked, I don’t know what did it but they’ve cracked I tell ya,” Ben playfully mourned only to have Will slam the door almost in his face.

“Guess that leaves you as Selleck and me Danson,” Will snarks with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s get this jalopy rollin the Roadhouse waits.”

“Don’t you even,” giving him a dirty look to which Will just grins, closing the door before you can throw anything at him. “Keep those two in line please Santi.”

Chuckling, “Don’t worry cariño, princesa is in good hands,” stepping away Pope turns to give you one last wave. “See you tomorrow sometime, just ah let us know when you’re done fuckin don’t want to bring Isa back too soon.” Ducking the mound of dirt you toss at him with a smile on his devilishly handsome face.

With a wave, you watch them go sigh leaving your lips feeling a little lost without Isabella around. Pocket vibrating breaks you from those thoughts, the guitar solo at the beginning of Angel by Aerosmith starts to play making you smile. Frankie asked you when you made it his ringtone why you picked a song that’s more suited for your ringtone. Shaking your head arms wrapped around his neck explaining that he’s your angel who saved you from yourself. Showing you that despite your size, the past you had you’re worth loving worth cherishing. It took a while for you to actually believe him but once you did, having Frankie Morales as your angel did wonders for your confidence and self-love.

“Hello, my angel,” answering while heading back too inside to get the steaks on the grill and check on the fireplace.

Leaning against the metal outside wall, one leg bend to press into the builds side, “I think you have that backwards hermosa.” Deep chuckle sounding from his lips, making you shiver despite the warmth of the house. “Pope come get our little one?”

A shiver of pleasure runs down your body at the sound of his voice, smile blooming widely. “Nope flyboy, my angel happens to actually have metal wings,” giggling leaning against the counter for a moment. “He did, enlisted the help of Benny and Will for the night too,” checking the clock to see you have just enough time to get the steaks and corn grilled along with a quick shower. “Can I expect you at the normal time?” hoping that his asshole boss wouldn’t keep Frankie any longer than a few minutes.

Bent knee shaking to a beat that’s none existent. His nerves shouldn’t eat at him but the small velvet box rattling around in his pocket gets heavier by the moment. Pulling it out to flip the top still a little unsure if you’ll truly like it. Sunlight caught the round cut chocolate diamond, simply done in rose gold with two trellis of white diamonds cascade down either side. Having bought the ring months back, paying it off a little at a time. Getting lucky by sneaking one of your much-loved rings out to get it sized and back before you noticed it missing. Even hint asking to find out what kind of gems you preferred. Surprised when you tell him about the chocolate diamond. Finding the beautiful stone on a birthday present run with your best friend to the local jewelry store. One that almost matched his eyes and reminded you of him. Soft blush dusted his cheeks at your words that night when you explained tucking away that tidbit of information for later.

As later came, he went to that very jeweler finding the perfect ring he hoped you’ll love. Above that he prays you’ll say yes to being his wife and mother to his daughter. The very thought of you saying no constricts his heart in a vise grip. One he’s sure will squeeze the organ till there’s nothing left but a hole where you once resided.

“Frankie?” frowning when no answer comes from the other side of the line. “Everything all right flyboy?”

Clearing his throat and closing the ring box to stow it back in his pants pocket, “Yes, mi amor everything’s perfect. Sam time as usual, since all the work’s completed there’s just clean up and inventory left.”

“Don’t be too long baby I’ll have dinner waiting for us, I’ve got a date after all,” teasing tone that’s touched by humor. Knowing you could take this one of two ways and deciding on the provoking one. “My book boyfriend is lonely without me.”

Groaning, shaking his head and readjusting the cap covering his hair, “Woman you’re teasing again remember what happened this morning when you tormented me. The promise I made you?” Licking his lips at the very thought, “I’m getting my dessert tonight and making you scream my name for everyone to hear.”

“Promises, promises flyboy I think you’re all talk and no action,” knowing you shouldn’t be teasing him but couldn’t help yourself. Especially when that sexy growl vibrates over the phone making you weak kneed.

Smiling, Frankie pushes away from the wall needing to get back to work so he could get home to you. “No promise sweetheart just facts,” hating to hang up. “I’ve gotta go mi amor, see you tonight, I love you.”

“I love you to Frankie, I’ll see you tonight. Now go finish work there’s a present waiting for you when you get home.” Biting your bottom lip, insecurities rising like bile in that back of your throat. Hope and fear warring in your mind after hanging up with Frankie.

Trying not to dwell on those thoughts while getting the steaks and corn cooked. Once finished you add them to the oven along side the potatoes on warm. Stopping in the living room to check the fireplace and arrange the blankets laying them out for maximum comfort. Heading to the shower to clean up quickly.

Thirty minutes later, body lotions, hair dry and lingerie in place, putting his camo robe over. You check for what felt like the hundredth time the clock on the wall. Seconds ticking by till Frankie comes home and you’re desperately trying to choose a spot for him to find you in. Laying first by the fire but figuring that didn’t look right. Choosing next to lean against the entrance wall just shy of the door, shaking that idea off as it could expose you to anyone walking down the side walk. The kitchen popped up just causally draped over a chair or the counter. Sighing in frustration when none of the places look right. Till that proverbial lightbulb goes off and your grabbing the book you’ve read for the last couple of nights. Laying on the couch, one leg bent at the knee to show off your bare legs, robe open just enough to display a touch of cleavage and the book open but you’re not really reading.

Listening for the moment you hear the key slide home into lock, door opening, “Y/N, hermosa where you hiding?” Voice deep and soothing to your nerves a smile tugging your lips upward at the frustrated growl that reverberates from his chest.

Itching to raise up, show yourself to him but the imp side has you staying in place on display for him. Catching the sound of boots toed off, keys dropped in the little ceramic bowel. Tracking his sock covered footsteps guessing he’s peeked into the kitchen when a soft groan meets your ears. Letting you know his nose took in the smell of dinner. Bottom lip caught between your teeth again patience wearing thin as excitement courses through your veins. Bare foot dancing to the tune of nerves as you peek over to see Frankie’s shadow in the kitchen. Hearing the oven open then close smirk sliding over your lips as another rumble of a groan sounds.

Soft giggles touch his ears, strong legs eat the distance from the kitchen into the living room. Seeing the fireplace alight, “Please tell me you didn’t…” train of thought crashing when his eyes drop to see you laid out so beautifully for him. Pink tongue coming out to wet his lips, chocolate pools darkening, the twitching in his jeans making itself known.

Growing even more pronounced with the slow trek your eyes take. Starting at his waist, couch hiding anything lower from your view, licking your lips to trap the bottom one between your teeth. Seemingly a permanent home for the abused lip. Trailing over his shirt covered chest, thick tanned neck that your wanting to nibble. Over his strong jaw and patchy beard, smirk in place when you see his lips parted in shock. Though a part of you worried it’s more because of how little you’re wearing, baring your thick, curvy body to his eyes. However, those thoughts died a very painful death as heat slips into its place with how he’s truly looking at you.

Unable to keep the gasp from leaving your lips with how desire darken his eyes have become, the crinkling of leather meeting your ears. Making your eyes drop to the callused hands gripping the back of the couch so tightly, knuckles white with the tension and you wonder for a moment if it’ll be ripping soon. Returning your eyes to his, making sure he’s still watching when you return to reading that same paragraph you’ve tried to finish for the last twenty minutes. Loud growl is the only warning you get before the paper bound volume in your hands is ripped away and tossed over his shoulder.

“Frankie,” trying to infuse a little bit of anger into your cadence. But to your own ears it just sounds breathless and needy. Swallowing hard you rise knowing the robe is opened more baring your black lace covered breasts to his gaze. Going to stand but a hand on your shoulder stops you, sliding down to your arm and tugging you to turn. Kneeling into the couch, the only thing between you both except clothing of course. “Dinner’s ready.”

Still staring at you, drinking in the sight of your body half exposed to his eyes. Chest raising quickly with every breath you take, the soft smile on your lips that you lick and make him groan. “I don’t want dinner mi amor,” placing hands on either shoulder to push the robe from your body.

Pooling at your waist the knot still holds fast, “Oh than what do you want mi Rey?”

“You,” simple word never held so much need and want packed into one syllabi, eyes held to yours. Palms sliding over your skin, talented fingers brush under the lace strap perched on your shoulder. Drawing it down to rest on your bicep, breath hitching when he leans in to place a kiss to where it previously resided.

Hands going to cup the back of his neck, toying with the short curls under the baseball cap. Head lulling to the side, giving him access to the sensitive skin of your neck. Taking advantage and rubbing his lips over the soft skin. Bearded cheek tickling, making your squirm wanting to pull away but also enjoying the slight burn. One arm stay’s at his neck while the other moves between your bodies giving a little push to his chest. Making another growl vibrate through his body and into yours. Arms coming around your waist to pull you even closer. Teeth ghosting that little spot just under your ear he knows will make you weak. Placing his lips right there to suck a mark while his hands drop to palm your ass and squeeze. A touch of frustration sings through his veins at not having you pressed against his body fully.

Trying to gather your scattered wits, body thumping with a desperate need, “Frankie,” short whine leaving a dry throat, you try to push him back once more. Not really wanting him to move but the position your both in is only making things difficult.

“Want me to stop?” Breathing the words into your ear, warm air making a shiver race down your spine.

Whimpering, “No, but I’d much rather want you closer and not this couch between us.” Loosening his grip on your body, you reluctantly pull back grabbing his ball cap along the way. Soft giggle leaving your lips as you dart out of the reach of his hands. Almost slipping from the couch backwards, managing to catch yourself and get up while placing the cap on your head. Eyeing Frankie as he stands where you left him though leaning forward, as if to jump over the couch to get to you.

Swallowing hard, heat rising over your skin in the best of ways with how he’s staring at you. An idea pops into your head, fingers going to the knot at your waist. His eyes following the path pausing for a moment to take in your heaving chest, nipples pebbled tight beneath the lace. Licking his lips at the sight before trailing lower to watch with held breath. While nimble fingers untie the knot, letting the Terry cloth fall to pool at your bare feel. Hands itching to wrap around your nearly naked form. To hide from those slowly tracing eyes.

That make there way back up to your face, hunger, desire, love all warring deeply in those swirling dark chocolate eyes. “Hermosa esposa,” (Beautiful wife.) words spoken almost reverently. Drinking in the sight of your body, wrapped in sheer black lace that hides nothing from his eyes, wearing his much loved ball cap. Only served to have a streak of possessiveness dance across his mind. Bottom lip caught between his teeth eyes watching caught in the trance that is your beauty with every step you take.

Swallowing, your feet having a mind of there own as they make the short trek around the couch to stop just shy of reaching him. “Like what you see Frankie?” Worrying your bottom lip, nerves have you fidgeting under the intense stare. Keeping your hands at your sides first then clasping them behind your back. The action pushing your chest out which draws his attention, trying to keep himself from drooling.

Knowing you’ve said something, asked him a question but his brain doesn’t fire off any response. Instead he steps forward, brushing his fingers over your collarbone, touch light as those deliciously callused digits ghost the skin of your shoulders and down your arms. Wrapping strong limbs around your thick waist to haul you against his strong frame. Gasp leaves your lips that he takes advantage of and swoops in for a kiss that’s anything but delicate.

Fierce and demanding, pressing his mouth to yours leading with his tongue that goes in to taste and mate with yours. Toying with the muscle before sucking harshly, tasting coffee, something sweet and a flavor that’s all your own. Pulling a moan from deep within your chest that bubbles up at the same time your arms wrap around Frankie’s neck. Pulling him closer wanting to merge the two of you together. His strong body pressing you into the couch, wondering for a moment when you turned, but not caring. As his kiss stole all thought and reason from your mind, turning you to mush in his arms.

Air becoming a needed commodity making the two of you break apart gasping and resting your foreheads together. “Cariño you can’t wear things like this when I come home.” Pulling back just a little only too groan at the innocently sexy expression in your eyes.

“Surprise,” tugging at the curls getting a low grunt from the man wrapped around you. “So next time you rather I’m naked spread out on the kitchen table?” Teasingly running your hands up and down his back. Stopping to slide both hands in the back pockets of his jeans, cupping his ass to bring him against your pelvis.

“Mierda,” head dropping to your shoulder, the bite of the zipper against his cock making him hiss. Needing inside you wanting to make you sing his name for everyone to hear. Panting for breath, “The guys find out about that and they will never eat at the table again.”

Soft giggles brush his ear, turning your head to press your lips to the shell, “You did say I was your dessert.”

“I did, didn’t I,” wicked smirk sliding over his lush lips, wrapping one of your legs around his waist to rock against your soaked panty covered folds. Letting you feel how hard you’ve made him, the throb of his shaft beating a rhythm only you can dance too.

Head tossing back at the feeling, you use that leg to pull him impossibly closer rocking your hips slowly. Lips pressed against his neck, flicking your tongue out to taste the sweat tinged musky skin. Hands moving to his shoulders under the fabric of the red and black plaid to push it from his body down his arms and adding it to the growing pile. Tracing little patterns over his chest soft smirk in place when your fingers brush over his nipples making him hiss at the contact. Lower to the hem of his beige t-shirt clinging to his skin, sliding your fingers under the fabric to tease the warm flesh.

“I’m your surprise baby, you’re in charge of where this goes,�� low growl leaves his lips at your words, making your head spin in desire. That floods your panties with slick and a need to have the man standing in front of you.

Hands start to dance up his chest, when he bends cupping your ass with both hands and hauling you against his body tighter. Looking over your shoulder to see blankets spread out over the floor in front of the roaring fireplace. “That for us sweetheart?” You nod as he trails one hand around to slide between your thighs and over the soaked gusset of your panties sliding two fingers under the edge and over your puffy swollen lips. “This all because of me?”

“You’re to smug Morales,” bitting your bottom lip to keep from moaning. Hips however have a mind of their own as they rock over his questing fingers. “You know that book boyfriend is kinda talented…” rest of the sentence swallowed by the moan exited from your throat. Dropping your forehead to his shoulder a shutter racking your frame with the teasing slide of those thick work calluses fingers through your soaked folds.

Circling your clit with the tips to give a jolting pinch at the mention of your ‘other’ boyfriend. “Seems I have some competition,” dark chuckle leaving his throat at the same time a whimper leaves yours when he pulls his fingers free to suck clean. Helping you place the leg from his waist to the floor before taking you over to the fireplace.

Shivers skate across your body at the deep cadence of his tone, the dark promise of what he’s got planned making slick flood your core and drip down your quivering thighs. Fascinated by how deep his chocolate browns have become while staring into those beloved eyes.

Soft gasp pulled from the back of your throat with his hand upping your cheek, brushing his fingers over the soft skin, free arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. “When did you get this little number? Better yet why didn’t you take me with you while picking it out?” Dropping his head to the crook of your neck nose brushing over your skin, drawing in the jasmine scent that’s burned into his memory as yours alone. Making his cock throb dangerously.

Swallowing harshly, “A few weeks ago,” head lulling to the side to give him access. Your own hands returning to that patch of skin just under his shirt. Short nails leaving little tracks over his flesh, marking him as yours. “I ordered it online, first time I’ve worn it other than trying on.”

“Next time I’m gonna be there to watch you try things on,” nibbling kisses dot your neck and shoulder. His path haphazardly moving to the hollow of your throat, biting down on the sensitive skin and leaving his own purpling mark behind. Sweet moans leave you lips a shiver of arousal pours through your veins at the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to.

“I’d never get anything tried on if your there flyboy,” nickname rolling off your tongue, brushing your hands higher dragging the shirt with wanting it off. Tracing little patterns with your fingers to brush over both nipples. Making another sharp hiss leave his lips that rest against your collarbone. Breath fanning out hot and moist over your body trying to focus on giving you pleasure. Yet with each brush of those skillful hands he finds himself getting weaker to your advances. Desperately needing inside you, all those lovely noises you make music to his ears. Taking advantage of the moment you pull back to tug his shirt off tossing it somewhere behind you. Pausing to admire the man who’s captured your heart. Drinking in the sight of his tanned skin, soft yet muscular body gleaming in the firelight.

You’re truly in awe of this man and so caught up tracing each piece of him you don’t realize he’s stepped closer till warm hands grip your waist. Inching the sheer lace up your body till he gets a peek at the lacy black matching cheeky panties your wearing. Hands gliding around to cup your ass, giving you a hard squeeze, drawing another moan from your lips. Eyes sliding closed as your body sways to lean against him. “Your right cariño you wouldn’t because you don’t need these lacy clothes to tease me. Your mire present does that. You make me rock hard and all you have to do is whisper my name.” Voice taking on an octave lower, filled with a longing and love for you alone.

“Frankie,” voice low, filled with a deep arousal you try to contain, his words making your heart flutter with love. Knees weakening to the point your sagging against him. Wanting to state the fact he’s got the same power over you. Voice like silk over your skin, making butterflies flutter in your tummy, tingles dance through your body and heat pools low, dampening your panties. “That damn voice.”

Dark chuckle leaves his lips, hands coming back to bunch the lace in his fists to pull it from your body, joining his shirt. He takes one step back to return the admiration of your body. Fire light dancing off the dips and valleys, highlighting the stiff peaks of your nipples begging for his mouth to worship the soft swells of your breasts and tummy. How your shyly try to turn away but stay still at the same time. The down turn of your chin however makes a frown appear and a dangerous growl leave his chest.

Reaching out two fingers to grip your chin raising it and making you look into his eyes. “Beautiful mi amor, you’re stunning, never think you have to hide your body from me,” letting go of your chin to trace a path down your cheek, between the valley of your breasts and around your waist. Pulling you flush against him, feeling his rough body hairs brushing against your softer skin. The satisfaction of having him pressed so intimately soothes all the nerves and dark thoughts making them run squealing back to where they came from. The affirmation of his words through his touch sets your blood on fire with a need to please him. To show him how thankful to have him in your life rises like a tidal wave.

Cresting the moment you lean in starting to place kisses along his jawline, searching for every spot that draws a moan from his lips. However, Frankie doesn’t let you get very far instead he pulls you back, helping you to sit on the pallet of blankets before the fire. On his knees, he takes the cap from your head placing it on the coffee table behind him. Cupping your cheeks between his large hands, watching you watch him. To lean in for a kiss that’s so achingly tender it has a shiver running over your body that’s got nothing to do with being cold. Arms going around his neck to pull him against you. Teasing the tip of his tongue against the seam of your lips that you open on a sigh.

Taking that moment to slip his tongue into the warm cavern of your mouth. Tangling your tongues together as your noses brush and angle trying to find the right place to draw in air without having to break apart. When he does your bottom lip becomes caught between his teeth, nibbling the delicate skin, gathering air to dive back in. This time it’s deeper, demanding those little moans from you. He’s rewarded with one that’s dragged from the depths of your soul making a smile tug at the edges against his lips.

Both gasping for breath, clinging to each other, he noses your chin, running his lips over the delicate skin searching out your mouth again. Drunk on your kisses, the feeling of your hands fisting in his hair, clutching him closer. “Lay back for me hermosa,” opening his eyes to stare at you. Seeing the indecision war with the need to give instead of receive. “You said I’m in charge tonight right?” Nodding not trusting your voice to anything other than totally wrecked right now. “Use your words mi alma.”

“Yes,” swallowing thickly seeing the desire darkened chocolate eyes bore into your own. A shiver skating across your body at the promise those beloved eyes held. “Yes, I did my love, but you don’t…” he doesn’t let you finish that thought.

Instead pressing his lips back against yours unhurried. Taking slow sips from your mouth, nibbling your lips, dipping into the warm cavern for little tastes. Making whimpers of need push from your chest as you rub your thighs together for some kind of friction. Warm work roughen hands cup your breasts, giving the soft globes a gentle squeeze. His thumbs circle the peeking nipples before trapping it between it and the index finger. Giving a hard pinch that’s just this side of pleasurable pain. The little tug going straight to your core, knowing you love how he’s playing you body. Making your back arch against his hand a mewl of need leaving your lips.

Abandoning your mouth to trail nibbling kisses across your jawline, “I want to mi amor, you’re a goddess and I’m here to worship at your temple.” Breath falling over your neck as those words have a shiver running down your body. Heating the skin, heart thumping behind your rib cage he traces with those wicked fingertips.

Moving between your legs, rough blue jean fabric abrading the inside of your thighs as he hovers over you. Watching with passion filled eyes, tongue coming out to wet those kiss swollen lips you know you’ll never get enough of. Arms go to wrap around his neck to pull him down to you, but he shakes his head taking both wrists in one of his large hands to place them above your head.

“Leave them right there sweetheart because if you touch me now I won’t get to taste you,” desperation laces his voice making the cadence drop an octave and drawing a shuttering breath from your lungs.

Never have you seen this look in those beloved eyes as the one right now, pinning you to the blanket covered floor. Body squirming under that dark gaze, thighs rubbing as fresh slick coats your already drenched panties. “Please,” back arching to press your chest into his hands, desperate to have him in some kind of way. Not above begging to get what you want either, “Frankie I need you,” words coming out on a needy whimper.

“Patience mi amor I’m a starving man who’s just discovered his favorite dessert,” lips tipped up in a smirk. Resuming his path over your skin. Leaving goosebumps in his wake of teeth nibbling your flesh, sucking kisses placed in spots he knows only serve to make you moan and sigh. His name a whimpered plea from your bitten lips.

Till reaching the mounds of your breasts, taking one taut nipple between his lips. Sucking sharply and receiving a keening moan that surges straight to his cock. The throbbing pulse robbing a grunt from his chest though he tries to stay unaffected. Your breathy gasps and mewling whimpers start to drive him crazy with passion. Switching to the neglected breast while tugging with his fingers on the abandoned one. Tip of his tongue flicking over the peeked nipple before biting down at the same time his fingers tug the twin. Remembering how sensitive your breasts are and playing them like a skilled master.

His teasing pulls another shuttering breath from your lungs, sweat glistening over your body. Warmth filling your belly with those familiar tingles, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment drinking in the pleasure Frankie brings to your body. Short gasps and moans leave your parted lips as you try to brag air in your starving lungs. Feeling the first strings of an orgasm start to sing through your veins, knowing he’s trying to kill you sweetly with his mouth. Only to have your eyes fly open and look down when he bites the gentle swell of your tummy. Nuzzling the soft flesh with his nose, his eyes lock with yours. Fingers grasping the band of your panties to peel them down.

Placing kisses over each inch that’s bared to his hungry gaze. Tongue swirling around your belly button to dip in and nip before placing a kiss just before your soaked, puffy cunt. Impatience rides him hard, wanting to rip the flimsy material from your body. But also wanting you to wear them again. Biting back a groan of frustration he moves to the side pulling the fabric from your body, flinging it behind him. Pausing to taking in your beauty even as you squirm under the intense look in those gorgeous eyes.

So enrapt by your beauty he doesn’t notice your hands coming down to shield yourself feeling a little self-conscious, till they partially cover your breasts. “Don’t,” the word coming out on a sharp growl that has your eyes snapping back to his. “Don’t ever feel like you have to hide from me Y/N. You’re gorgeous mi amor,” voice rough with unspoken emotions that show in the tight clinch of his jaw. Eyes that drink in every inch of your plush body.

One hand intertwine’s with yours to bring down against the prominent bulge in his jeans. Hissing when you cup his shaft and squeeze. “You feel what you do to me cariño, what your body does to me?” Seeing you nod, swallowing hard as your fingers tip toe up to above the waist band of his jeans. Drawing your nails lightly over his tummy, watching as he sucks in then exhales making you smile.

Nimble fingers making quick work with the button and zipper, hand slipping inside the material feeling the throb of his cloth covered cock against the tips of your fingers. Before he pushes them away making you pout at the loss. “Put that lip away sweetheart you’ll get your chance later,” smirk making its way back over his handsome features. Hands placed over your collarbone to draw them down over your curves pausing to dip his head down. Drawing his teeth over the soft flesh of your hips, hands sliding under you to cup your ass. Giving the generous globes a squeeze while sliding down to his belly.

Groaning when the blanket covered floor makes contact with his erection, moist breath panting over the skin of your hip. Forehead resting on your lower belly to gather himself for a moment. Savoring the softness of your body under him, filling his work roughened hands. Lips worshiping the parts of you that at times make you want to cover and hide. Dipping his tongue along your folds grinning when another keening moan leaves your mouth on a gasp. Back arching to meet his mouth, one arm presses you back down wrapping around your thigh to hold you in place.

Using those skilled fingers to tease the pearl of your clit. Bullying the little nub with light circling pressure that has stars bursting behind your tightly closed libs. Teeth baring to sink into the flesh of your thigh, leaving marks behind for you to feel tomorrow when your walking a little funny because of him. Repeating the same treatment to the twin thigh while semi ignoring the place you want him most. Only those talented fingers keep with light touches. That serve to drive you crazy with need and want. Trying to buck against him silently demanding more but held in place by his strong arms around your thick thighs. Baring your pussy to his gaze, licking his lips he leans forward to draw just the tip of his tongue from entrance to clit through your folds. Making a soft scream leave your body, smirk sliding back into place.

That’s still there when you raise your head to look down at him, “Pay back baby…” gasping unable to form the last few words as his fingers have spread your folds. His lips attaching to your clit and sucking harshly, tongue flicking like the beating wings of a hummingbird. Another scream bouncing off the walls as your first orgasm rushes through your system catching you by surprise. Gasping for breath, fingers fisting the blankets below you, tight coil having sprung so quickly your eyes rolled back into your head.

“Hmm that’s one hermosa I think you can give me another before you take my cock,” chuckling the vibrations shooting through your body making you shake. You try to answer, the words disappear on another whimper, body sensitive to his touches.

Frankie unwraps his right hand from your thigh, fingers teasing along the seam of your body where thigh meets pelvis. Watching with hooded eyes as you gasp once more trying to collect yourself. Though he doesn’t give you a moment to think, sliding one finger inside your fluttering walls, thrusting slowly. Left hand spreading your folds as his tongue attacks your clit, slowly this time. Giving light little kitten licks, circling with the pointed tip before flicking the throbbing pearl. Crooking the finger inside you to press that little spot with each pass. Adding a second to stretch you open, groaning against your folds, “So tight for me mi amor, every fucking time, God.” Eyes dropping down to watch his fingers disappear inside your tight quivering walls. Curses leaving his lips in broken Spanish his hips rutting against the floor needing relief from the throbbing of his cock.

He stays transfixed by the sigh of your cunt taking his fingers, the wet sounds with each thrust, the way your thighs shake around him. He adds a third finger, your voice meeting his ears. Though all he can make out if his name and please. Sparing a glance upward his breath catching at what he’s witnessing. Your hands cupping and massaging both your breasts, fingers tugging and pinching the nipples in time with his fingers. The sight burned into his memory one he’ll gladly keep and try to repeat many times over. Seeing you so wanton and free like this bolsters his ego knowing he’s the reason your on display in such a manner. Even as a spark of possessiveness cuts through never wanting anyone else to experience you in this way.

Sensing eyes watching you, you raise your head to insnare his gaze, licking your lips slowly as your breath catches. Tingles dancing over your body at the way he’s mastered your pleasure. Giving you just what you need and when. Feeling almost as full with his fingers as with his cock though you crave having him deep inside you. But also knowing he won’t give you those desires till you’ve cum once more. Head dropping your back bows when his talented lips seal over your clit. Tongue lapping at the little nub and drawing different patterns to make you see stars explode behind those closed lids. His name chanted to the ceiling while those wicked fingers draw out your pleasure with each stroke and crook. Brushing that hidden spot no man other than Frankie has ever found. A moaning, withering mess under the man’s skilled mouth and hands. That coil tightening in your belly threatening to snap any second.

Caught between wanting the delicious torture to end but also to continue being the pleasurable pain masochist you’ve become. All at once it becomes too much and not enough, hands shoot down to clutch at Frankie’s head. Tugging his hair and pressing him closer as your orgasm washes over you, his name a scream ripped from your mouth. Breath gasping from your lungs, body shattering around his tongue and fingers. You try to push him away, cunt oversensitive from the two orgasms he’s brought you.

Yet he continues tormenting you, with slow thrusts of his fingers, little laps of his tongue. Drawing out your orgasm, working you through each shuttering after shock. Till your spent, hands dropping to your side, eyes closed as you trying to control your breathing. Pulling his drenched fingers from your quivering walls to suck them clean. Humming in satisfaction at your tangy essence, placing one more kiss to your quivering clit making you jump at the contact and moan at the feel, proud chuckle leaving Frankie’s glistening lips.

Placing kisses as he moved up your body, hovering over you once more. A shutter racing over his frame when your legs wrap around his trim waist, feet crossing at the small of his back to press his swollen jeans covered cock against your tender folds.

“You’re pretty proud of yourself huh Morales?” Lashes fluttering just peeking up at him to see the smirk forming on his lips. Wanting to be cross with him for all the teasing but couldn’t summing the energy. Fingers carding through his hair tugging at the mahogany strands to bring his mouth down against yours. Tasting the remains of your essence when your tongue dips into his mouth. Mating with his in a dance that pulls a groan from the man above you.

Hands tracing patterns over his back feeling the muscles shift, short nails lightly digging into his skin as your hips rut in slow circles against his groin. Your own smirk forming when you feel the shutter roll down his body. Detaching his mouth from yours to rest your foreheads together, breath fanning over your face as he tries to hold back just a bit longer. “Now who’s proud of themselves hermosa?”

Giving a small shrug, one hand coming around to glide up his chest. Brushing over his nipple before wrapping around his neck. “I’d say it’s pretty equal now. Though you’re a little over dressed my love,” free hand sliding down to his ass and giving a squeeze.

Wrapping his arms around you, Frankie rolls the both of you over, hands going to behind his head. Dark eyes watching you sit up, straddling his waist, wet folds pressing against his throbbing cock. “Undress me princesa.”

“Do I get to take my time with you flyboy?” Leaning down to place a chaste kiss to his lips, making sure you rub your body against his. Knowing he’s having a hard time containing himself, catching the way his hands are fisting under his head. “I could really draw this out, pay you back,” with each word you place a kiss. Starting just under his chin, to the pulse point on his neck. Nibbling that little spot for a moment to suck a mark. Moving on to flick each nipple, giving little bites to his sternum. Feeling rather than hearing the growl vibrate through his chest.

Glancing up to ensnare his eyes, lips pressing into his tummy more times than there are words. Nuzzling the thin line of wiry hair leading down and under his jeans. “Oh look a map it’s a little thin but it seems to lead me to what I want.” Grinning at the groan echoing from his throat, rubbing your cheek into his skin.

Fingers making quick work of the button, slowly lowering the zipper, hands slipping under the fabric to push from his hips. Leaving his boxer briefs on for now while working those sinfully sexy jeans from his body, depositing the behind you. Sitting on your knees between his legs, drinking in the sight of your love. Running the palms of your hands up his calves to strong trembling thighs, fingers edging the stretchy material that hides little from your imagination. Bracing one hand on his hip you lean down to kiss the very visible patch of wetness. Knowing the crown of his cock rests beneath, lips much like this morning teasing the sensitive head. As your fingers tip toe up to pull down the band of his underwear. Baring his shaft to your hungry glaze, yanking the undergarment down his legs and straddling his right thigh. Rubbing yourself over the quivering muscle that flex’s with the touch of your wet cunt against his skin.

“Shit ba… baby please,” whimper leaving his lips at the feel of your soft lips brushing over the crown. Warm breath making him twitch in need, hands having come from under his head to fist the blankets below. Knowing he won’t last long with how your teasing and tormenting him. Eyes rolling to the back of his head when the warmth of your mouth engulfs the crown. Free hand stroking his shaft, pulling the foreskin back to reveal the sensitive cock head to your lips. Tongue finding that one little spot just under the crown which never fails to make him lose his shit.

Hips thrusting upwards filling your gapping jaw having prepared yourself for that very moment and relaxed to take him down. Saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth, coating your fingers helping to lubricate your movements. A whine leaves the back of your throat when Frankie pulls you off his cock, catching sigh of the wrecked look on his face. The trembling of his body, the curses slipping from his lips in a mix of Spanish and English.

“Can’t wait hermosa, need to be inside you, need you to ride me,” voice desperate and cracking. Not pausing in his movements to line you up, knees on either side of his waist. Like a rag doll you let him position you where he wants, not coming back to yourself till you feel the bunt tip of his cock run through your folds.

“Frankie…” calling out to try and gain his attention through the desire fogged brain. Unsure of the position, one that you’ve never tried together. Though you couldn’t say it not one you hadn’t thought about. You just didn’t want to hurt him by being on top.

Shaking his head, positioning your body over his throbbing length. One hand wrapping around the base, long light strokes as he lines himself up. Even with his passion hazed mind, he knows your wanting to disagree with him. Making him sit up, cupping the back of your neck, “My choice mi amor I want to feel you around me, watch you bounce on my cock. See these beautiful eyes,” tracing his fingers to your cheek, brushing over your closed lids. “I want to watch you take your pleasure from me. Please mi ángel,” voice deep and tinged with want.

Lifting your lashes to stare at Frankie, using his shoulders to raise up as he teases your folds with his cock. Brushing over your clit, making you tremble in his arms before lining yourself up and sinking down slowly. Till your thick thighs are pressed against his hips, head tossed back at feeling so full. The slight burn of being stretched by his cock never fails to make you shutter in his arms.

“So fucking wet, tight,” muttering the two words over while burying his face in your neck. Arms wrapping around your waist as yours move to wrap around his shoulders pressing your bodies together. Letting the fullness feeling wash over you, consuming your body. The steady throb of that vein reverberating through your system making you whimper, rolling your hips against his groin.

“Baby please I need to move,” little whines leaving you lips a gasp wrenched from the depths of your soul when he lays back pressing his cock even deeper inside you. Large hands on your hips grounding him, watching with hooded eyes. Feet planted to thrust slowly up into your quivering walls, filling you so completely you don’t know where you end and he begins. Not that you care at the moment, as your worry melts away with the tender heated look he’s giving you.

“Ride me sweetheart,” bottom lip trembling before caught between his teeth. Watching you place a hand on the center of his chest. Rising up till just the cock head rests in the circle of your fluttering walls. Slowly sinking back down teasing the both of you with long deep strokes, moaning when he brushes over your g-spot each time.

Eyes rolling back a gasp leaves your lips when warm hands come up to cup and massage your breasts. Tugging the peaked nipples making your walls squeeze his shaft tighter. A groan forced from his parted lips at the feeling. Watching the way your features morph in pleasure, biting your bottom lip with eyes tightly closed.

“Look at me hermosa,” the command is hard to ignore combined with the tugs of his fingers at your nipples making you gasp. You slowly do as he asked entranced by the way he’s watching. Tongue coming out to wet his parched lips, breath catching in his throat at the sigh you present him. Sweat coating his forehead, dripping down the side of his face, chest glistening as you take him in. Hungry eyes devouring the look of pleasure, the needy little grunts expelled from his mouth. “Lean back on my knees I wanna watch my cock disappear into that pretty cunt of yours.”

Whimpering, pausing your movements to do as he asks. Bracing yourself with hands on either side of you on the floor. Pressing your back against his bent knees that have lowered just a fraction so your spread out backwards on display for his eyes. Hips rolling against his groin, body undulating against him the movements slow and delicate. Filled with a passionate abandonment that never fails to make Frankie smile. Head tossed back gasping breath leaving your parted lips, forgetting about everything that’s not centered on Frankie and the movement of your hips.

“So beautiful amor,” licking his lips, hand moving down to circle the little pulsing pearl with light pressure. Watching you quiver around him, feeling your walls squeeze his shaft, almost to the point of sucking him in deeper. Eyes glued to the apex of your thighs, observing how his cock disappears while his fingers draw different patterns over your clit. The sight nearly making him cum right then combined with the noises your making he knows it’s not long before he’s falling into the arms of pleasure.

Siting up unable to keep his hands and mouth from you any longer, Frankie wraps his arm around your shoulders bringing you down with him. Mouth’s attached in a deep tangling of a kiss that’s pulling small little mewling whines and whimpers from you. Keeping his fingers on your clit tapping and circling making you gasp into his mouth. All the more with the vise like grip of his free arm around your waist holding you in place as his hips thrust upwards. In quick and deep punishing thrusts, chasing that high only you can give him but first he wants you to see the stars. Knowing your getting closer with each thrust, the tight clinch of your walls around his shaft, making him grit his teeth.

With that thought and a need for air you break apart, lips going to your ear, “So fucking good to me mi amor,” groaning breathless. “Taking my cock like a good girl, letting me fuck you like this. Christ the things you make me feel mi vida. I’ll never get enough of you.”

“Frankie,” another whimper of his name leaves your lips that your bury into his shoulder. Eyes dropping closed the closer you get to your release. Trying to grasp on to your sanity with each deep, hard stroke he delivers to your body. His words only serving to make you shiver even harder and when he hits that spot you blank. Mouth gapping in a silent scream of his name, release washing over you and coating his cock that keeps hammering into your quivering cunt.

Teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder sucking a mark into the soft skin. Working you through your orgasm as his own begs for release. Balls tightening against his shaft as his hips start to falter in his pace. Hot moist breath leaving his nose that nuzzles the side of your throat over the mark he’s left. Eyes clinch tightly, cock throbbing to his heart beat as he spills his seed deep inside your body.

Both of you are out of breath Frankie moving his hips in short shallow thrusts feeling your combined juices seeping out around his shaft. Groaning when he remembers the one thing he forgot. Hearing the sound you place a kiss to his neck, loopy smile gracing your features. Raising your head to look down at him, hips finally stopped even as the pleasurable after shocks still make your body tremble.

Kissing his chin, nosing that little spot where no beard grows, nipping the skin gently, “Shall I move baby? Am I squishing you?”

“Fuck no you ain’t hermosa and if you don’t stop saying shit like that I’m gonna smack your ass. You feel too damn good laying there and I don’t want to move from inside you.” Realizing what he just said heat floods his cheeks staining them a soft red. “I’m sorry mi ángel, I just don’t like you talking that way about yourself.”

Biting the inside of your cheek to keep the moan from escaping at his words, the force of his tone making you clinch around him tightly. Praying he hasn’t felt the change in your demeanor or the way your heart flutters at his words. Though you should’ve known better when thumb and forefinger pinch your chin to rise it from looking at his chest.

“Amor?” Having felt that squeeze around his shaft, making his heart hammer against his ribs. “Does that thought excite you sweetheart?”

Soft whimper leaving your lips with a shake of your head though you focus back on what you’d intended to ask him after hearing the groan. Trying to divert his train of thought away from a newly found kink. “Why’d you groan if not because…” biting your bottom lip when you feel the stinging bite of his hand coming down on your right butt cheek. Chocking on the moan that tries to leave your lips as his fingers rub the offended area. Burying your heated face in his chest that rumbles under your head. “S’not funny Fransisco,” pinching his side getting a yelp that brings a smirk to your lips.

“Woman you should be wore out,” hearing your playful huff. “Hmm seems I have more work to do mi amor, your still able to think and pinch.” Running his hands over your back, rolling the two of you over so he can stare down into your beautiful eyes softening cock slipping from your warm depths. Making you both groan at the loss. “And as to why I groaned a moment ago,” looking sheepish he leans up to kiss your forehead. Leaving his lips pressed there before speaking, “In my haste to have you cariño I forgot to use a condom.”

Thinking for a moment, small chuckle leaving your lips that turns into full giggles you can’t keep inside anymore. Holding onto Frankie tightly, burying your face back into his neck, breathless laughter ghosting over his skin. Frown marring his features when he feels the shaking that turns into confusion as those giggles reach his ears.

“It’s not funny sweetheart we haven’t talked about…” fingers covering his lips to stop the flow of words.

Eyes locking with the worried chocolate orbits, “Frankie my love if we happen to make a baby tonight I would be over the moon with joy. That’s why I’m giggling,” smiling, little chuckles still escaping. “I want to have your child mi rey,” cupping his cheek to bring his lips down to yours. Placing nibbling kisses before a full press slipping your tongue into his mouth, coaxing a moan from deep within. Pleased smile tugging your lips up as you draw back, “Even if it’s not tonight I wouldn’t say no to trying every night.”

“Mi amor,” endearment spoken on the tail end of a moan. Smile so blinding its as if the sun has been captured and brought inside to shine just for you. Holding you close he crashes his lips against yours, taking your moans and swallowing them. Sloppy and fierce, a clash of teeth and tongues, each trying to dominate the other. Till air becomes needed and you break apart gasping for breath. “You sure?” Worry creasing his brow, chocolate eyes filling with uncertainty as he looks at you.

Brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek, leaning up to place your lips over his, “I’m positive Frankie I want to give Isabella a brother or sister to play with.”

Moving off you, hearing the whimper you make, “Don’t move baby I’m not going far.” Reaching for his jeans a nervous smile sliding over his face as he pulls the little black velvet box from the denim. Pausing to flip the lid staring at the chocolate diamond for a moment, till he feels you move soft hand coming to rest on his back.

“Frankie?” Undertone of worry in your voice as you raise up on your knees waiting for him to turn and face you. Bottom lip caught between worrying teeth, fearful that you’ve said the wrong thing. Pushed him too far with the baby comments, Santi’s words coming back to you about marriage and asking Frankie first. Before thinking things through fully the words fall from your lips, “Marry me Morales?”

“What?” Shock coloring his gasp, turning quickly to stare down at you. Swallowing hard, “What did you just ask me?” Trying to keep the box fisted in his hand so you can’t see it yet.

Knowing there’s no reason for these feelings and thoughts to flow through your mind but his quick movements and no real answer causes the doubt to creep in. Eyes downcast not wanting to see the rejection in those chocolate pools you love so much. “I… I… I mean you don’t have to answer it’s just a silly question. I just thought,” biting you lip to keep the tears from slipping out of there ducts.

“What silly question amor?” Fighting the urge to tip your chin up to see your beautiful face. Frankie waits and when you don’t answer he opens his fist in front of you. Flipping the box open, “You mean this question mi vida?”

Gasping, eyes landing on the beautiful ring nestled into the plush black velvet, “Frankie?” Hands coming up to cover your mouth as tears slip free though they’ve changed to happiness as you stare up at him.

“I wanted to ask you differently baby really I wanted to try something a little more romantic. Maybe candles and dinner, down the on one knee” rubbing the back of his neck scrambling for the right words.

“You mean,” hiccuping as a bright smile tugs your lip. “You didn’t plan on proposing to me naked right after we made love?”

Rolling his eyes at your snark, free hand coming over to brush your tears away and cupping your cheek, breath catching when you place your own hand on top. Nuzzling the palm and placing a kiss to the center, “You deserve better, something special, flowers and chocolates and music playing. Not us naked…”

Watery happy smile, placing your other hand over his mouth a moment, “Crap I don’t need Frankie I only want you and Isabella, you’re my life.” Taking a deep breath, scooting closer on your knees till your just a hairs breath away from him, “Yes.”

“I haven’t asked you yet woman you can’t… wait what?” Chocolate eyes shocked wide by that simple little word. He’d hoped you’d say yes, dreamed of it from the moment he fell in love with you. But to hear you say yes still stole his breath and any other words he’d planned to say.

Soft giggles leave your lips, dropping your eyes down to the ring box in his hand and back up to his. Wrapping your arm around his neck to pull his forehead down to yours, carding through the short curls at the back of his head. “Then you better ask me flyboy so you can make an honest woman out of me in case you’ve knocked me up.”

“God sweetheart,” eyes slipping closed for a moment just breathing in your scent and warmth, savoring you, for a few heart beats, until he finally gather’s his wits. “Marry me amor, become my wife mother to Isabella and as many more child’s as you want. I don’t want to live this life without you beside me, please marry me,” whispering he last three words. Heart thumping wildly, fearful it’s all a dream and he’ll wake up back in that rehab with no proper out look for his life.

“Yes Fransisco, yes I’ll marry you, I love you baby. Though,” watching his eyes open to stare back, so many emotions filtering through those beautiful eyes. “I’m not giving birth to five children I’ll leave at least two for you to push out of your dick.”

Gruff laughter leaves his lips, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you against him, crashing your lips together in a hard, desperate kiss. Ring forgotten till it slips from his fingers in a bid to cup your ass and press you closer.

“We can have as many children as you want amor,” unwrapping his arms to bring the box back to show you. Plucking the band from its snuggled confines. He grasps your left hand bringing it to his lips and kissing the ring finger. Keeping his eyes locked with yours while slipping it on your fourth digit, before dropping to look. “Prefect fit.”

“Just like us,” leaning in to brush your lips over Frankie’s. Smirk gracing your features, “Remember we already have four kids and Isabella’s the mature one.”

Deep happy laughter leaves Frankie’s chest, arms going back around your waist to haul you against his body. Properly sitting with his back against the couch, cradling you in his arms, playful smile on his lips, “Shame that three of them still need house broken.”

“Frankie,” your laughter joining his as you straddle his thighs settling in his lap. Letting your mirth simmer while looking at your ring, still unable to believe you’re gonna be married. “Pinch me,” soft yelp leaves you, trying to summon a glare to direct his way but failing miserably.

“What you asked me to pinch you cariño,” soothing the pain he gave to your ass with the palm of his hand, cupping both generous globes to pull your pelvis flush with his. “Don’t worry I’ll kiss and make it all better baby unless you want something different.” Remembering the way you curved into his hand when he spanked you earlier. The memory of how tightly your quivering cunt gripped his cock, makes a moan leave his lips. Cock throbbing against your slick folds, demanding attention from the moment you straddled his thighs.

Experimentally smacking your ass feeling you quake against him, breath hitching in your throat chocking off a moan. “Frankie,” rocking your hips against his growing shaft. Feeling his fingers dip between your folds finding you soaked and throbbing.

“Like that don’t you baby, like when I smack this beautiful ass of yours,” low growl leaving his lips that attack your neck. Drawing another whimper of need from deep with in your body. “I know you do, can feel it you’ve soaked my fingers and I’ve barely touched you.”

Rubbing your nose against his neck breathing in his scent mixed with the heady scent of sex and sweat. Amazed how he’s flipped from the sweet Frankie to sexual beast mode in seconds. “Don’t tease handsome please,” whimpering, all thought leaving your mind except for the way Frankie’s talented fingers feel. Strumming your body like a master to drag out moans and whines of pleasure.

“As you wish amor,” slipping inside of you slowly, gritting his teeth at the tight squeeze of your walls. “I’m warning you now we’re not getting any sleep tonight baby. I’m gonna have you on every surface of this house I can.”

Smirking, “Promises, promises Morales,” pulling back to stare into his molten chocolate eyes. “Actions,” gasping when he pulls half way out and thrusts back home. Hitting your g-spot, his pelvis moving to rub against your clit deliciously making stars shoot across your vision. Trying to form the rest of the words to tease him, “Speak louder than,” soft scream leaving when he dips to the side rolling the two of you so he’s hovering over you.

Grasping your thighs to push them against your chest, pushing his cock ever deeper inside your depths. Eyes rolling back missing the smirk on his plush lips, “You’re saying amor?” Wedging his upper body between your thighs, legs draped over his shoulders, his knees braced apart for stability. Hovering over you with hands gripping your ass to lift a fraction off the ground and start a punishing pace.

Making good on that truth, neither of you getting much rest that night. Finally eating dinner around mid-night, thankful that Frankie had turned the oven off earlier in the evening. Rewarding him for his thoughtfulness with a blowjob at the dinner table, making good use of the Reddi-whip. In turn Frankie snatched up what was left of the pie having a second helping of his dessert, with you spread out over the kitchen table.

Reliving that moment in your mind you don’t hear the question Santi asks. Only breaking out of the smirk causing memory when Frankie places his hand on your thigh giving a squeeze. Looking from him back to Santi, “Hmm,” clearing your throat with a sip of coffee. “I’m sorry Pope what did you ask?”

Chuckling, “Off daydreaming again cariño, hope it’s as good as the smirk on your face.” Lifting a dark brow, Pope watches you for a moment catching the subtle shift of your body, Frankie’s cheeks dusting red. Guessing the two of you spent much of the night and early morning celebrating. If the marks littering the both of you indication anything accompanied by the way your both leaning against each other.

Thankful he called before driving over with Isabella and eager to hear weather you said yes. Though he knew better than anyone the answer which becomes confirmed while you hugging Will, chocolate diamond glinting in the sunlight filtering through the front door. After a round of hugs, claps on the back and congratulations along with very happy giggles from Isabella everyone settled in the kitchen for coffee.

Drawing your thoughts back from this morning smirk only growing on your face, Frankie leans over, seeing the intent in your side profile, “Don’t do it hermosa.” Warning growl in his tone, hand still on your thigh giving a harder squeeze. Isabella’s little giggles the only answer he receives to the warning, wrapped in her mother’s arms and oblivious to everything except playing with your hair.

“Well Santiago if you must know it’s even better,” chuckling evilly when Frankie groans head landing on your shoulder. Blindly reaching over to cover Isabella’s ears. “Just reliving late last night when Frankie got to have his second dessert.”

Confused for a second, eyes widening comically as he looks from you to the table place he’s currently sitting at and back. “Your telling me,” words sputtering out as he pushes violently backward, chair scratching across the tiled floor. “You could’ve warned a guy Y/N,” shaking his head in part disgust and part amusement. “Tell me you at least disinfected it before we sat down?”

Shrugging, “Where’s the fun in that Pope, besides it’s only fair after all Frankie got to see the stars right there in that chair first.” Licking your lips glancing at both Will and Benny who haven’t caught on yet. The harsh crash of his chair makes you bust out laughing, holding onto the table for support and cleaving into Frankie who’s red as a tomato.

“That’s just… fucking hell,” wiping at this ass and thighs like there’s something there.

Confused till he looked between the two of you, the table and Santiago. Deep groan leaving his lips as he head comes down to rest in his hands, “We eat on this table now it has to be burned.”

“What? Why?” Thinking for a second, comprehension clicking into place Benny jumps up scrubbing his hands along his pant legs. “That’s just wrong so fucking wrong now I have that in may head to. I take back the marriage proposal Y/N, Frankie can have you.” Though the grin on his lips speaks differently. It however doesn’t reach his normally expressive eyes. Hiding a secret he’s kept buried for far to long knowing now there’s no chance of it coming to the light of day.

“How generous of you Benjamin,” playfully rolling your eyes, giggling when you look at Frankie seeing his eyes have narrowed on his friend. You lean over, “No worries flyboy you know you’re the only one.”

Chuckling he places a kiss to your cheek giving you a wink, “I know.” Standing to round the table, “So you proposed to my girl huh?” Trying to infuse a touch of anger to his tone that fails miserably with the grin on his lips. “Dude what happened to the code of friendship huh?”

Stepping back, hands up in mock surrender, playful grin o his chapped lips. “You know I didn’t mean it like that Fish, Y/N’s a sister to me.” Words tasting and sounding bitter to his own ears. Looking too Will and Santi for help, finding none except fake disapproving frowns, arms crossed. Glancing at you and Isabella with a pleading look getting no help.

“Shit,” little voice speaking into the silence every set of adult eyes land on her, giggling follows with little claps of her hands before burying her face in your chest shyly.

Peels of laughter ring out around the kitchen Will beating the table with his fist, head hanging with broad shoulders twitching. Benny and Frankie leaning on each other as tears of mirth slip down their cheeks, Pope leaning against the island to stay standing up right his own body shaking in laughter. While you hold her close laughing, shaking your head at the sight of your family. “Your daddy and uncles are silly little one,” kissing her forehead locking eyes with Frankie when he turns to you. Seeing the love saturating those chocolate eyes, soft grin pulling at his lips.

“I love you mi alma’s,” playfully pushing Benny from his shoulder to come around and kiss both your foreheads.

Reaching up to cup his cheek, bringing him down to touch your lips together in a tender kiss, “I love you to my real soon to be husband.”

Sure you still read get carried away into another world of your books. However, not so deeply that you neglect your husband’s needs and wants along with your own. Besides you know he’s so much better than any old book boyfriend.

THE END

#Frankie Morales smut #Frankie Morales x Plus Size Female Reader #Triple Frontier #Frankie Morales x Plus Size Fem!Reader #Frankie Morales x Plus Size F!Reader #Female Reader

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commander-rahrah · 3 years

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RESIDENCY: SECOND CHANCES (AN OPEN HEART FIC): PART FOUR

Pairing: MC (Jordynne Holland) X Ethan Ramsey X Bryce Lahela; MC X Bryce; MC X Ethan. Please note that both pairings are present in this fan fiction — off & on, at the same times, and the relationships do ebb & flow. Please keep this in mind. Thank you.

Masterlist: Click Here

Chapter Rating: T

Word Count: 3940+

Description: Everybody’s first day back at Edenbrook. Is this second year everything they will need it to be?

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Jordynne’s background is my own creation, based loosely off of MC in-game’s personality and provided with more details.

Author’s Note: Ha. Soooo, its been a while. A long while. Many factors went into delaying updating this fic. First of all -- the pandemic. I am an essential worker. I am tired, and stressed. Yes, still. I am tired. I wake up, drive, work, drive, home, eat, sleep. That’s it. My freetime, creativity. mental health, etc. has been at an all time low. Second of all -- life. Soooo much has happened for my little family. My partner and I bought our first home and rescued our absolutely gorgeous puppy from a rescue shelter. It can be a bit hard to find time to write between putting your entire life into boxes, not having any furniture for 3 months and chasing after a puppy. Third -- I honestly felt like I lost my touch with my characters after reading Open Heart 2. The hiatus was understandable but long. There were chapters that were amazing, and heartbreaking and made me feel like I was soooo excited to write them. And then... by the end of Book 2... I felt lost? My favorite characters voices seem muffled. And I wasn’t sure how I was going to keep going. Do I ignore scenes/rewrite them? Would that compromise the premise of my fic? Being a fic that is in addition to the original PB story? I’m still a little lost if I am completely honest. Fourth -- general posting anxiety. Which I try so hard to avoid, and not think of. But comparison games, lack of notes and activity can get to you when you open yourself creatively online.

But messages of encouragement and inquiries into the next update helped! And I thank everyone who checked in on the fic and on me to see what was going on ♡♡♡ Honestly, I felt like I had no time to write, and even if I did I wasn’t motivated or inspired enough to do it. Tonight, I felt good. The news of OH3 was a bit of a kick starter for me I won’t lie. But I want to get back into these character’s heads -- I want to figure out the god damn mess that Jordynne has made for herself with Ethan and Bryce!!

As always any likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated. If you would like to be added/removed from the tag list please just let me know! It has been a long time since the fic updated so please let me know if you no longer want to be tagged or want to be tagged.

Taglist: @drakewalkerfantasy @owleyes-374 @lahelable @mayah-mahdy @paisleylovergirl @nicquix @emilymay100 @octobereighth @llamasgrl @timmagicktoad @lilyofchoices @msjpuddleduck @mfackenthal @paulfwesley @ccolz88-blog @mindlessdreaminxo @jooous @lapisreviewsstuff @choicesarehard @themingdynasty @omgjasminesimone @hopelessly-shipper @binny1985 @perriewinklenerdie @jens-diamondchoices @indiacater @chasingrobbie @writingsbymissy @dimitriwife @tacohead13 @amy-choices @mrsmatsuo @checkurwindow @imrookieramsey @bitchloveskcbaseball @mrs-ramsey

Previous Updates: Residency — Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen Part Nineteen

Residency: Second Chances – Part One Part Two Part Three

Bryce stood near the entrance to Edenbrook — shuffling from one foot to another. Both hands were wrapped around paper coffee cups — one of which he took a careful sip of.

So he had stopped to get her a latte from her favorite café. He knew she would probably be in a huge rush to get to work early and wouldn’t stop to get one. He wanted her day to start off right. At least he hadn’t shown up to the apartment.

Well, the thought had crossed his mind but he had quickly pushed it away. This was about being her friend. He just wanted Jordynne to have a good first day.

His dark eyes kept flicking towards the subway stairs, waiting patiently for that familiar blonde head to come bobbing up. Placing one of the cups on top of the other, he balanced them carefully as he dug into his jeans pocket for his phone. Maybe she had texted —

“Oh Bryce — hey!” His ears perked up at the voice, and was met with a warm smile. The smile that occupied his waking dreams. He liked being the reason for that smile.

“Hey Jordy!” God, why did he sound so breathless.

“Happy first day as a resident!” He shoved his phone back into his pocket, before grabbing onto her latte and extending it out, “I thought you should be extra caffeinated for your day, so I got you...” But his voice trailed off as he realized she was already clutching a travel mug to her chest. “Oh you already got one.”

“Uh, yeah,” Her smile turned sheepish, “I had the exact same thought process as you actually.”

“Heh—,” he chuckled, “I guess I know you pretty well.”

Her green eyes flashed with a look he couldn’t quite read, “Guess you do.” “Well, do you want it still...?” He held out the lukewarm latte again, unsure what to do with it.

“Hey, I’m still Jordynne Holland. When have I ever denied extra caffeine?” Bryce’s white teeth bit his lip as they stretched into a smile. He handed her the cup — their fingers grazing slightly.

“Thanks.”

They fell into step behind the other roommates, trailing into the hospital. As they walked together, Bryce suddenly struggled to find what to say. He had never been one to stay quiet — usually he was the outspoken one. But now he just watched her grasp onto her two coffee cups tightly, her eyes low as she walked into Edenbrook.

Once they made there way into the staff locker room, they separated to their own lockers. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she carefully sat her two drinks down, before grabbing her white coat. She slipped it on effortlessly, before wrapping her stethoscope around her neck. Flipping her blonde ponytail out, she turned to speak with Sienna — her voice to low for him to hear.

Jordynne looked amazing — her lean legs and hips wrapped in a deep green skirt that showed off just enough that it was both sexy and tasteful. Her high necked pale blouse brought out her olive skin. She could be the woman on the front of the pamphlets they hand out to pre-med undergrads. She already was the doctor she was aspiring to be — and he knew she would fit in well with the Diagnostics team. He thought of Ramsey — his pressed trousers, and leather dress shoes. His watch that probably cost more then Bryce’s car. Grinding his molars, he looked down at the wrinkles trousers and Nikes in his hands. Peeling his shirt off he tossed it gently into his locker, letting out a sigh.

But he quickly masked it as Jordynne went to leave the locker room. “Hey,” He caught her attention before she went to leave, “You’re gonna kill it, Holland.”

“Thanks Lahela,” She gave him that smile again. The one that made everything flutter.

“I’ll save you a seat at lunch?”

“Oh—“ Her eyebrows furrowed slightly in the middle, “I’m not sure how my day will look with the team... I’ll play it by ear?” She offered, looking a little guilty.

“Yeah— yeah of course...” His voice sounded a little strained. “We’ll catch you later.”

She nodded at him, pushing her hands into her pockets, “Okay, yeah. See you guys in the atrium,” She called out over her shoulder, her blonde ponytail swinging as she walked away.

Bryce’s brown eyes flickered over to the rest of her roommates, who were all watching with slightly worried looks. It was starting to settle in. Maybe this second year, this second chance — was the beginning of everything changing. ________________________________________________________________ He had originally come up here to get accustomed to his new surroundings. Get a lay of the land. The board had spared no expense with the new wing expansion — and the Diagnostic team’s new office was no joke.

Ethan was standing across the hall from the room — staring into the room through the glass walls. Everything inside was sleek, shiny and new. His hands were bunched up fists in the pockets of his trousers, and the tie around his neck felt a little tight. Had he forgotten what all of this was like while he was away?

Thirty minutes he had stood there.

Thirty.

Standing there and imagining where he would sit at the table — discussing with the team, leading them to the right diagnosis. Researching at the desk, pouring over the hundred books that was supplied for them in there.

But the picture in his head was fuzzy. Even in his imagination Ethan felt like something didn’t feel right. What was it?

The team? No. Mirani and Hirata always did excellent work. He could rely on them.

Was it that Naveen was missing? So many of his biggest successes with the team was with Naveen. And he definitely felt his absence this past year. He had also never really adjusted to the idea of being the team lead for the department. It was thrust upon him, not once but twice. And both times he had been unprepared. Being a leader wasn’t exactly what he had always hoped for in his career.

Ethan’s thick brows were furrowed as he thought, the gears in his mind whirling. Why had he been staring at the office for thirty minutes? What was stopping him from going inside and just doing his damn work? That’s what he came back for — so what was his trepidation?

The light flickering on in the diagnostic teams office brought him back to reality. The room was illuminated, the white light shining through the glass walls and spilling into the hall.

There she was.

Jordynne stood at the entrance of the office, her back facing him as she took it all in. She hadn’t notice him from across the large hallway. Ethan stepped back into the shadows — hoping she wouldn’t see him capturing the moment. A silent laugh escaped him as he watched her set not one, but two coffee cups down onto the table. His lips remained upturned as he watched her wander deeper into the room, running her fingers over the smooth surface of the whiteboard. She had a soft smile on her face as she looked around her.

“Good morning Dr. Ramsey!”

Ethan almost hissed at the sound of the cheerful voice next time. Looking over he saw Dr. Baz Mirani standing next to him with a wide smile spread across his face.

“Morning,” He grumbled, looking back to his view of the diagnostics office where Jordynne had started to settle in.

“That’s Dr. Holland right?” Baz followed his line of sight, and watching her for a moment. “Are you going to head in?” The young doctor questioned, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

He cleared his throat, before shaking his head, “You go ahead.”

The young man didn’t think anything of it, and marched over into the office. Ethan could hear their muffled voices through the glass as they introduced each other.

He noticed the next person that came up to him — Dr. Hirata. She gave him a nod, before pausing for a moment and staring at him in the dark side of the corridor. He could tell she was calculating, attempting to deduce what was keeping him out of their new office. But her face remained neutral and she turned on her heel and headed into the room.

Maybe there were too many variables for her to figure it out too.

His blue eyes watched as the three colleagues got familiar with each other, shaking hands and pleasantries. Maybe this would be a perfect time to go in. He had missed the awkward introductions — the worst part was over. He just had to go into the room.

Running his hands over his white coat, Ethan crossed the hall and stepped into the brand new office.

“Introductions done?” He asked, his thick brows raised. He glanced over them quickly, not long enough to make any eye contact. “Great. We’ve got work to do.” The glass door behind him gently hissed as it closed — leaving them all in the office together.

Ok. First step done.

“We have an incoming patient from Manhattan Presbyterian.” The trio slid apart to make room for him as he marched to the board, pining up an abdominal CT scan.

Jordynne, June and Baz grabbed a spot at the circular wooden table in the middle of the room.

“Can you describe the patient?”

“Male, aged 45. Asian American.” He watched as Jordynne took out her trusty little black notebook, and started jotting down notes.

“Symptoms?”

“He presented with a fever, vomiting and diarrhea, and was treated for the flu. He returned several days later with enlarged lymph nodes, abdominal pain, and a rash on his shoulder.” Grabbing onto a black marker, he started to write the known symptoms down on the white board. With his back turned to the group for a moment, he let the corners of his lips turn up for a split second. This felt good. “What did his former doctors think it was?”

“Hodgkin lymphoma.” He made sure he kept his face neutral -- to not give any answers away.

June scoffed, “Amateurs. And his blood?”

He almost laughed.

As the conversation started to amp up, Ethan slipped back into his role on the diagnostics team easier then he had imagined. Bouncing off of each other during the differential — he had missed this.

Then he realized Jordynne hadn’t said anything. She was sitting in her chair, looking slightly awestruck. But she was still writing notes diligently and observing them going back and forth.

“Six months ago, however, he was admitted for flu-like symptoms and a rash on his arm.” Ethan continued, drawing his eyes away from her and focusing back on the conversation.

“That could be the key. Did they biopsy it?” Baz asked, eyebrows raised and face hopeful.

He pursed his lips, “They didn’t.”

“Any history of dermatitis?”

“Was he on any medication prior to being admitted?”

June and Baz asked one after the other, going through their mental lists. “No and no.”

“It could be cutaneous Kikuchi disease.” Hirata suggested. But she didn't do suggestions -- she diagnosed.

Interesting.

June had gotten there first. But she was always like that. It was a race for her.

“The symptoms do add up.” Dr. Mirani nodded, giving his colleague a look of approval.

“I agree.”

There was a knock on the door, and they looked up to see Danny on the other side of the glass. Ethan waved him in where he announced the patient's arrival at Edenbrook.

“Excellent. Dr. Holland,” He spoke directly to her for the first time that morning —holding his breath as he waited for her reaction. But her face remained neutral, looking up at him through her lashes as she waited for him to finish, “Run a biopsy on the patient’s rash. If we’re correct, we’ll begin the patient on a treatment of nonsteroidal anti-inflammatories and prednisone.”

He noticed her swallow for a moment, listening to her instructions. “And if we’re wrong?”

“We’ll re-evaluate.”

“But we won’t need to,” June said confidently, leaning across the table at Jordynne with a wink.

“Team dismissed. I’ll page you if I need you again today.” He turned around, going back to the white board to add their final notes and treatment plan.

Out of his peripheral vision he saw Baz put a gentle hand on Jordynne’s shoulder. He lowered his head to speak in her softly, “I made the same face my first few days on the team. You’ll get used to it.”

Ethan crossed over to his desk to find the patient's file. Rummaging in his pockets, he found his glasses and slid them on. Without looking up from his file, he spoke to Jordynne who had remained in the room, “After you’re done with our patient, you can see Ines and Zaid for further assignments. You’ll be balancing your work here with your usual resident duties. Now that you’re in your second year, that will include rotations at the free clinic.”

“Yes, Dr. Ramsey.” Her voice was so professional, so trained. He had never heard her sound like that. It was like she had practiced.

He heard the sound of her crossing the room, and stepping towards the door. But then she hesitated. “Will we always diagnose a patient without seeing them?” She asked.

“No, but we’re often asked for help by other hospitals all over the country, so it’s a good habit to keep our blind diagnosis skills sharp.” He finally looked up from his file, using his finger as a bookmark in it. But when he looked over to, his stomach flipped slightly as he found that her green eyes already staring at him.

He could see her hesitation, and maybe some nerves. She had just been thrown into the deep end -- and it seemed she was struggling to stay afloat.

“Is everything alright, Jordynne?”

He couldn’t help himself. Plus, it was his responsibility to ensure her success on the team now. It was apart of his job to check in on her.

“Actually...,” She made sure the glass door closed, before stepping further into the room, “Could we talk?” Her fingers were knotted together in front of her -- she looked nervous, and vulnerable.

Ethan studied her for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek, “About the job? Or about us?”

Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment, like she was in pain. But it was for just for the smallest moment -- he had barely even caught it. “The job.”

Placing the file down, he pulled a chair from the center table out for her where they sat down together. He adjusted his glasses on the crook of his nose, before settling into his chair. “I’m all yours,” He said, folding his hands carefully on top of each other on the table as he waited for her to speak up.

“Dr. Ramsey...," A flicker of doubt crossed her face, before she opened her mouth, "How are you sure you made the right diagnosis?"

Grabbing the file in front of him, he pulled out the patient's previous charts and placed them in front of them. “In medicine, the most logical answer is usually the correct one. In this case, the most obvious answer was Hodgkin lymphoma.”

“But the other hospital had already eliminated Hodgkin lymphoma.” She finished for him.

“Correct. Which allowed us to take it off the board and considered the next most logical answer.” He pointed back over his shoulder to the symptoms he had written on the board in his chicken scratch, “The patient had a persistent rash. Paired with the symptoms present, the most logical answer is Kikuchi disease." He met her eye easily across the table, before matching her vulnerability, "But as to how I’m so sure, I’m not. Which is why you’ll be running a biopsy. We need to trust in our diagnostic instincts, but the second we let arrogance overrule the results, we fail as doctors.”

“So I should use logic... and be humble?” Her eyebrows were tugging in the middle as she processed his advice.

“And read journals. I want you to turn yourself into a walking disease encyclopedia. You can’t diagnose the patient if you don’t study up. If the patients we saw had more common diseases... they’d never have been referred to us in the first place.”

“Got it.” She nodded -- eyeing the bookshelves behind them that were filled with textbooks.

“So what did you think of the team?" He asked curiously, "It was the three of us under Naveen last year, until he put himself out to pasture.”

A soft chuckle escaped her, “You mean became Chief of Medicine?”

He smiled at the sound, “Precisely.”

“Well, we just met but I think I liked Baz.” Jordynne offered, pursing her lips.

“He’s hard to dislike. Walking proof that genetics aren’t everything.”

“When did he join the team?”

“A couple years ago, when Zaid began his residency. He sought a position here to be closer to his brother.”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, “Can’t believe Zaid would be okay with that.”

“Supposedly, the old chief cleared it with Zaid before he approved the transfer. But I heard a rumor that it was Baz, dressed up pretending to be Zaid.”

Her mouth fell open, “He wouldn’t!”

He shrugged, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. “I don’t pay any mind to rumors.”

She smirked back at him -- and he could feel the nervousness and ice melting between them. They could do this.

Two colleagues conversing normally. This was fine.

“So if I want to get on Baz’s good side, how do I go about that?” She leaned in a bit more towards him, putting her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her fist.

Ethan thought for a moment before replying, “Baz is earnest to a fault. He respects authenticity more than anything so... as much as I despise saying anything so incredibly banal, my advice would be... “be yourself”,” He grimaced as the words left his mouth.

“Oof—“ She chuckled, “That must have hurt to say aloud.” She knew him well. “That’s why you’ll never hear it again.”

She let out another laugh, but this one sounded more sad. Then a sigh escaped her, and she started picking at her lip, “I thought I was so ready for this year. How do I feel like a clueless intern all over again?”

“Because you are clueless, relatively speaking.”

She frowned, “Gee, thanks.”

His stomach dropped -- that's not what he meant. “It wasn't an insult," He scrambled to get out, "You get to spend the second year of your residency in a small room with over three decades of collective medical knowledge and experience. Learn from it. Be inspired to become a better doctor from it.” He looked up, and found her already looking at him again. His thick brows furrowed, “What is it?”

“Oh uh... your glasses...," Her words trailed off as she looked at him, "They make you look smart.” She sounded a little breathless.

He did his best to ignore how that made him feel, the blush that might have been creeping up on his cheeks. So he hid between cheek and tongue. “You’ve caught me. The illusion behind my status. Without these I’m a simpering moron.”

The pair was quiet for a beat, before bursting out laughing. As they laughed, she casually tapped his hand with hers. “Thank you,” She spoke again, but this time her voice was quiet.

Her fingers had lingered on his hand, so she gave it a squeeze. They were cold on his warm skin.

Ethan's jaw set as he felt those familiar sparks. Jordynne...” His voice was a warning. It was only the first hour of their first day.

“I know.” She said carefully, but she looked down at the table.

“We’ll be okay. We’ll make it work.”

He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince.

“Yeah,” She breathed out.

He moved his thumb gently across her fingers, daring to give her just that smallest bit of comfort. But the sound of the glass door whooshing open caused him to rip his hand away.

“Whoops! Forgot my pager! That could have been very bad!” Baz strolled back into the office -- oblivious to what he had just walked in on.

Both Ethan and Jordynne bolted out of their chairs, stepping away from each other.

“Hmm. Yes. It’s right over there on the table.” Ethan pointed before shoving his guilty hands into his lab coat.

“I’ll get those tests run.” Jordynne had moved to the door, her arms crossed over her chest and face flushing red with embarrassment.

“Excellent. Thank you.” He said with a nod, watching as she turned on her heel and marched down the hallway.

Why was nothing ever easy with Jordynne Holland?

Would this year be any different?

_______________________________________________________________

"Cholecystitis." Jordynne said as she finished adding it to the whiteboard in the diagnostics room. Her perfect block letters standing out drastically against Dr. Ramsey's messy scratch. "Inflamed gull bladder which explains the abdominal pain after eating. Which is entirely separate from Kikuchi disease."

She turned around, capping the pen with a confident smile. Esme was standing near the door, watching the scene unfurl with crossed arms.

"I have to say, I'm not sure I would have spotted that." June spoke first -- looking mildly impressed.

"Nice catch, Jordynne." Baz gave her a big smile.

"Indeed. Especially since we had been diagnosing based on reports, not our own face-to-face interviews. Dr. Holland's specialty has always been listening to her patients. Well done." He gave her a nod, a smile threatening to show on his face.

"It wasn't just me. Dr. Ortega assisted." She nodded to her intern at the door. She knew that drove Ethan crazy -- passing along credit to her colleagues. But Esme deserved it.

"Hey," Esme nodded her head at the trio from the corner of the room, attempting a smile.

"So this is your intern?" Ramsey stepped forward, eyebrows raised. "Well, Dr. Ortega...," He sized her up for a moment, before moving his steely eyes over to Jordynne. "Dr. Holland's one of our best. Consider yourself lucky."

Jordynne felt warmth spread in her chest -- feeling proud of herself. High praise from Dr. Ramsey -- everything between them aside.

"I do, Dr. Ramsey."

"Keep me updated on his treatment." Ethan asked politely, before filing out of the room with the rest of the diagnostics team.

"So I guess you're pretty good at this." Her intern looked at her with a little smirk. "You saw for yourself, I learned from the best. Edenbrook has some of the best doctors in America, and you'll learn from them all. And not just the attendings, but your fellow interns too. I wouldn't have made it through without my friends."

"You telling me to what... be more social?" Esme looked up at her -- her face filled with doubt.

She shrugged, the corners of her lips tugging up, "It can't hurt."

"It definitely can."

"Donahue's from the other night? That's where everyone goes. But first, let's get you back to your patients." Jordynne started to shuffle out of the office, but Esme's voice stopped her.

"Right... Hey, Dr. Holland? Thanks for not bailing on me. Gotta say, that's a new one." She sounded genuine.

"Sure thing, Ortega. I got your back."

This year could be different.

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hayjeon · 4 years

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Tips on creating fun fanfic headers!

i had so much fun writing the fanfic writing tips yesterday and i got a few more questions about header-making, and so i decided to make one more of these! i hope these tips help somebody out there! hope you enjoy :)

p.s. these tips won’t require any hard editing skills or photoshop skills, nor any expensive tablets/apps!

typically i spend around ~5-10 min creating one header, and that’s either after i think of/finish a fic. i have so much fun doing it and sharing it with you that i figured i’d share how i do it!

why headers?

as I talked about in my fic tips, one of the most eye-catching things about fics are headers. when i’m scrolling through a rec page, my home page, a tag, or even someone’s masterlist, i’m immediately drawn to well-made headers. that’s what captures my attention, and then i’m more drawn in by the content. so, you can say that headers is your own version of an ad for your own fic, or an extension of it (like the cover of a novel!)

if you were writing your own book, imagine how much time you’d spend figuring out what you wanted your cover to look like. i try to have as much fun and invest as much time making my own headers because it’s just the cherry on top to my finished product :)

disclaimer: BUT HEADERS ARE NOT NECESSARY/DO OR DIE! if you don’t feel like you want to do this, then keep writing! its ok! this is just a suggestion. i’ve seen plenty of well-written fics without headers at all, so don’t beat yourself up over not having one/not wanting to do one. this is truly just a fun, extra kind of thing, and only keep reading if you want to learn how i do it! :)

tips for people who don’t want to make headers: if you still want something to make your fic stand out, use gifs! i use them in my drabbles a lot! this will at least give ur fic a lil boost!

how to find pictures

I typically use unsplash, which is a free website in which photographers upload their HQ pics for free use. the pics are really high quality, typically stock photos, and don’t have any logos on them like other ones on google. unfortunately, you won’t find any pics of the members or anything, but you’ll find beautiful stock photos of typical scenes like “ocean scene” or “desert scene.” I found the stock photo for cut me open (shown below) on that site by just looking up “medical” or “doctor”.

i used to use google a lot and just use keywords like “desert scene HQ” and edit the search settings to deliver HQ pics, and a minimum # of pixels, but unplash is definitely better in terms of quality, more aesthetic photos, and no logos/watermarks.

on some occasions, i will screenshot some scenes of youtube videos, turning up the quality to 1080p or 4k and zooming in so that the pixelation is as crisp as possible, and then editing it later to look good (which i’ll explain in a second!)

the above photo was a scene from the specific characters from the drama, “100 Days My Prince” that I screenshotted from a youtube video that TvN uploaded, recapping the drama. I cropped it just right so that their faces were left out, which i’ll also mention soon!

things to look for when picking pictures:

you want the picture to reflect a specific motif/theme from your fic! if its a moody fic, then try to find a moody scene that you can edit with filters/lighting to look even moodier; or if the characters’ jobs are a big portion of the fic (like cut me open/doctor theme) try to look for stock photos with that shown very clearly!

make sure its high quality: tumblr really dumbs down the quality of the photo when uploading it, so try your best to find something with a lot of pixels in it so that when you start editing, you don’t sacrifice too much of the quality already

try to look for something simple/clean: a picture with too much subject (ie. people in the background, or too much detail) may end up taking away from the main point of your header, which is your title. so find pics without too much clutter!

try to make sure its landscape: which will help during editing to save some of the quality better.

editing your pictures

now that you have a specific photo you want to use, now its time to edit! I use VSCO CAM (free app) and my own apple photos cropping tool for faster crops.

crop/adjust: if your picture is too large/wide, crop it to at least a 16:9 ratio. i’d say aim for skinnier if you can, so that you don’t take up too much space (especially if you’re planning to add headers to your masterlist). also crop out any faces, any clutter, any unnecessary details, so you have a nice, clean slate to work on when adding text.

contrast/sharpen/clarity/white balance/etc.: i’m not gonna give you a lesson on photography, but i’ll tell you I learned like 80% of everything that i know just by fiddling with it on VSCO! So just try it out and play with the app, see what you can make of it. i’d say a rule of thumb to follow is that you want happier fics with a brighter tone, and moodier/angsty fics with a darker tone so that it can reflect the nature of the fic further, without saying anything!

if you wanna be extra af like me, then go a step further and photoshop your pics. this one is a good example; when i screenshotted this scene from another youtube video for my fic One Year My Love part 2, i was specifically looking for a scene that would showcase the ornate/regal details of their clothing/environment in contrast to part 1′s modest clothing/scene (the first header in this post).

i found this scene, but actually, this scene portrays the Crown Prince and the Princess, not y/n. So, the actors weren’t smiling at all! They were actually frowning at eachother in this scene, to portray the tension between the two characters and their marriage.

So, I took the extra step, adjusting the pic with VSCO so that their shoulders/chins were at the same level, cropped off their faces up until their lips, and then used the adobe photoshop free app to photoshop their lips to be SMILING at eachother!!!! subtle, but important!

call me crazy for taking that much time but i’m so proud of how it turned out and i loved every second of making this one. that way, this scene makes it portray the happy ending for Jungkook and y/n!

adding text to your header

you can use any app out there, but i really like Font Candy! I actually ended up buying the 2$ version of this and never regretted it, but you can actually find a lot of their basic fonts on the free version; I tend to use the fonts: OSTRICH SANS, BEBAS, TREND, and INTRO the most! these are pretty clean-looking, block letters that look good whenever i put them as my titles.

I love this app too cause you can easily control the spacing between letters to make them take up more space, add shadows, or even make them contrast their background using the overlay feature; like this one i made for wildest dreams (see how the text changes depending on what part of the photo its on? amazing! it’s literally with a click of a button!!)

And i’ll always add “written by HAYJEON” or “by HAYEJON”, space it out, and add it somewhere underneath as my own branding.

orrrrrr

if you want to be more creative, you can even go a step further and use whatever you have on hand to enhance whatever you’re trying to portray.

for this one, i ended up finding this amazing photo on unsplash and i thought it would do a create job of portraying the “movie-set” quality of what wildest dreams is going to be about. this stock photo had someone else’s names on it, so i used my ipad, and used instagram to just erase the existing writing with the color of the background, and then wrote in my own title and url with my own handwriting/apple pen!!!

i thought this was pretty cool because it’s like wildest dreams is its own movie/has its own movie set, which, once it’s out, you guys will see that it’s supposed to be!

saving/uploading

this is pretty easy/obvious, but i figured i’d mention it. all the apps i mentioned are available on the appstore, and they will save directly to your photos. after doing that, i’ll just upload them into a special folder i have on my google drive so that when i’m finished writing a fic on tumblr using my laptop, i can easily download the photos without sacrificing quality. easy!

and that way, i can save them forever; even if i have to delete them from my computer, i can always redownload them!

side note: making text separators

i just recently started doing this, but ever since tumblr took down their text separators, i’ve just been cropping the bottom like 5-10 pixels of the header to use as my text separators! (with my laptop)

i saw some other writer doing it and thought that it looked better than what i had used previously (a cropped photo of a random line i found on google); i found that doing this tied my fics together a little better and just looked better aesthetically;

so there it is! hope you enjoyed! :) i would love to see what other tips you guys have been using, feel free to send me an ask or reply to this post; and if you end up using any of my tips, please let me know! I love to hear from you guys all the time <3

lots of love, especially during these times,

hay <3

#writing tips #story talk

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

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Enchanted - Adam Sackler (pt. 1)

well well well, look who’s back with a new sackler fic! i honestly don’t know where this is gonna head, im figuring it out as im writing so im not that ahead of you lmao but i’ve been thinking about this concept for a while now so let’s see how it will turn out!

series summary: You are casted as Giselle in the Broadway adaptation of Enchanted with Adam as Robert.

word count: 3.5k

masterlist

Chapter title: The man

If you had to imagine what a surgeon is feeling right before a super important operation, you’d compare the feeling to the one you always get at auditions without hesitation. The nerves are stretching to the maximum, some can’t even take it, some have odd coping mechanism, the air is thick with tension and rivalry and all eyes are looking for weak points in others. It’s a mixture of feelings that crawls up on your spine every time you wait for your name to be called and find out whether or not you were good enough to make the cut.

This time is no different as you sit in a now emptied out room that was once full of ambitious girls, all of them longing after the exact same thing, a role that would change their lives, but now it’s just the five of you. You see the similarities between yourself and the girls, you are all slim figured and judging from what you’ve seen all of you have some kind of dancer background, especially number three who is eyeing you now with a hard stare, probably deep in her thoughts what would make you better than her while you do the same. You would swear your life she used to be a ballet dancer, it’s radiating from the way she sits and walks, you can just tell it.

It’s way past ten pm and all of you have been here for the whole day, fighting your way through three rounds of audition, each of them testing something different. Singing, dancing and acting, the three compulsory things that need to be perfected if someone wants the role of Giselle, especially since the shoes you’d be putting on with this role are pretty high-end, given the fact that the first and only person to bring life to the character was Amy Adams and she made quite the impression on millions of people all around the world on the big screen when the movie came out.

Looking down at your hands you notice how they are shaking once again and you quickly hide them between your thighs not to show weakness. You can’t let them see how nerve-wrecking this is for you, that’s just not professional, not what you want to project to the world.

Then the door to the auditorium where you had to perform three times today opens and all five of you rise to your feet when the four people who have been judging you all day appear with the piece of paper that contains the results you’ve been waiting all week to know.

“Thank you for your patience, it’s been a very hard decision to make,” Petra, the production assistant speaks up with a warm smile as she looks around. “We wanted to make sure the best person will stand on the stage of Broadway when the curtains open very soon and we were convinced that all of you would be worthy of the role of Giselle.”

You catch a few confused and anxious looks around, and you can almost hear the questions popping up in the minds: so how did they decide?

“But we’ve made a decision, and we would like to thank to everyone for the hard work you put into today.”

Your heart is up in your throat, each beat feels like it pushes the top of your head as you stare at the paper, visioning your name written on it as the chosen one. Petra exchanges a knowing look with the three men, the choreographer Matt, the director Trevor and Lee, the dramaturge before she turns back to us and the final name rolls down her tongue, leaving those perfectly red lips that never stopped smiling all day.

“Y/N, we would like to welcome you to the production of Enchanted on Broadway.”

You gasp and you freeze as your own name rings in your ears and envious stares turn to you from all around the room while you are just standing there, completely shocked that you actually got the part, as if you haven’t been telling yourself it’s going to happen in the past weeks.

“Thank you for everyone, we hope to see you maybe at another audition, because you all have great potential. Y/N, please stay for a little longer so we can discuss the further steps.

You’re going on Broadway, it is finally happening. You’ll be standing on the stage you’ve been dreaming of since you were a little girl, the applause will be yours (partly) every night before the curtains close. You can’t stop thinking about it all through the next about thirty minutes as you discuss every crucial information with Petra, she hands you a schedule and makes you sign some paperwork that already has your name on them. You try to remember everything and when you give them every contact info that’s needed you finally head home.

You can’t help but feel silly when arriving back to your small apartment you put on the movie and watch as Amy Adams sings warmly on the screen with a skeptical Patrick Dempsey and as you hum to the music already knowing most of the songs you wonder who will be your Robert Philip. Petra said the auditions will end this week and you’ll have a table reading on Monday where you’ll be able to meet all the people who will basically be your family for the upcoming months during the rehearsals and once the show opens.

It’s past one am when you finally turn your laptop off putting it away and as you creep your way to your window the nightlights of the city light up your face. Climbing out to the fire escape you listen to the chaotic sounds of the city that never sleeps, watching a group of friends cross the street, spraying champagne to the asphalt, laughing their way into the night. Normally you would find them annoying, but not tonight. You wish them a great night as you dream about a glass of the sparkly beverage in your hand, drinking to your big achievement. Your eyes travel up to the gloomy sky and you let out a wondering sigh, the thought of change embracing your hopes and dreams.

***

“Okay, big smile!”

You flash your widest smile into the camera Lora is holding up in front of you, holding the coffee she just bought you in your hands.

“Amazing, I feel like a mother who is taking her daughter to the school for the first time,” she jokes putting her phone away as the two of you start walking. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks. I’m really excited,” you smile shyly. First day nerves are bringing the best out of you, it’s been a hard task to get some sleep last night and you only managed to rest for a couple of hours, but the excitement is definitely keeping you awake. Today is your first official day at a Broadway production in a leading role, this is a day you will never forget probably.

“You’ll be amazing and when you are finally famous, we can sell your stuff on ebay and get rich!” she cheers making you laugh. She always sees the most important things in situations.

“Great plan.” Checking the time you see that you really should get going if you don’t want to be late for the reading. “I’ll see you tonight?” you ask her stopping at the entrance of the subway.

“Sure, I’ll swing by around nine,” she nods giving you a quick hug. “Break a leg!” she calls after you as you wave while running down the stairs.

You’re not unfamiliar with the world of theater, but every theater is different and you can never know what to expect behind the scenes. It’s a whole new world on the other side of the curtains and as you walk into the building you feel like a wandering child, soaking in every little detail you see, even though it’s not even that extra like you had imagined.

Arriving to the meeting room you are fifteen minutes early, leaving only just a few people there, the long table with chairs all around it, name cards at each seat is set with water bottles and fresh fruits in bowls, a copy of the script is neatly placed at each seat.

“Y/N! Hi! How are you?” Petra welcomes you rushing over to you with that warm smile of hers, wearing an orange colored flowy dress that goes great with her dark brown locks.

“A little nervous but excited,” you chuckle.

“Don’t be nervous, we are all family now here. Come on, let me introduce you around.”

You meet some of the dancers and background actors, Trevor who you have already met at the audition and Petra also introduces you to the Misha, the costume designer who even shows you some of her sketches for the dresses you’ll be wearing on stage and they all look stunning, like a piece of art each.

You find your name at the table and put your coat to the back of the chair, running your fingers over the cover of the script with a small smile playing on your lips and pulling your phone out you shoot a quick photo of the script and your name tag before checking the names around you.

Right next to you is the one you’ve been most curious about, the name Robert Philip written in small under the name of the real person behind the character: Adam Sackler.

“I think you two will get along well,” Petra smiles at you from the other side of the table, seeing you eye the name tag. “He is—oh, he is here!” she declares, head turning to the door and she is already rushing to welcome the tall man who just walked in.

Adam Sackler is quite a man at first sight. His tall figure, broad shoulders and hair dark as the night make him appear a little dour and stern, but the smile he gives to Petra upon seeing her definitely gives his features a soft touch of warmth. He wraps an arm around her shoulders as they exchange a few words you can’t hear from this far, and you seem to be lost in the appearance of the man you’ll fall for on the stage, but you are brought back to reality when his eyes lock with yours and you notice Petra is turned to you as well. You clear your throat, feeling like a kid that’s been caught doing something naughty when you were just looking at him.

The two of them head in your way and you get yourself ready to meet the man, feeling his eyes intensely burning down at you the whole time he strides over to his seat next to you, Petra walking right beside him.

“Y/N, this is Adam. Adam, meet your Giselle, Y/N,” she smiles and when your eyes meet his again you feel his gaze in your guts. He is the definition of intimidating, expressions unreadable paired with a physique that can’t stay unrecognized.

A large hand extends in front of you, and as your palm touches his, you can’t help but notice the size difference.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” he beams, a tiny smile playing on his full lips, the lips you’ll be kissing soon.

Damn it, get your shit together! You tell yourself as you nod at him in a friendly manner.

“You too, Adam.”

Your hopes of Petra easing the nerves you are feeling from this first meeting quickly disappear when more and more people start to arrive and she leaves the two of you alone.

As your hands let go of each other you still feel the warm touch of his hand linger on your skin, both of you turning to your seats.

“So, have been on Broadway before?” he asks, glancing at your shortly as the two of you sit and he starts flipping through the script.

“No, I’m totally a newcomer. Have you been?”

“Yeah, just once a while back.”

“Any advice to be taken?” you smile at him laying your palms out on the table. He thinks to himself for a moment before turning to you.

“Leave reality behind,” he answers with a smile that seems to be hiding tens of feelings and thoughts, maybe a few stories that you are now dying to hear. Adam Sackler is definitely the person you feel drawn to in many ways and as you turn your attention towards the script, aimlessly flipping through the pages you wonder how many sides of him you will get to know by the time the lights go up on the stage for the first time.

***

The reading wouldn’t take more than about two hours at most, but with so many people and even more jokes to make it’s hard to stick to the schedule. There is always just something to add, change, comment on and this is what brings the whole team together. By the time the last words of the last page are said out loud, you feel like part of the bigger whole and the nervousness long gone, replaced by true excitement and anticipation to see what’s next.

“Thank you everyone, I think we can all agree this show is going to be magical,” Trevor, the director speaks up when the reading is over and everyone nods in agreement. “First rehearsals on the stage are expected to start in two weeks, I would like to kindly ask everyone to respect the schedule and the time of others. A list of contacts will be emailed to everyone by the end of the day,” he notes before discharging everyone.

You’re soon pulled into a discussion with Clyde, aka Prince Edward and Misha, talking about preferences for the costumes in the field of comfort and practicality, but you find yourself scanning the room for one particular tall figure.

Adam is standing a couple of feet away from you, talking to a blonde woman who has her hands on the shoulders of Janelle, the girl who’ll be playing Adam’s stage daughter, an adorable little sunshine from what you’ve seen from her in the past few hours, very focused and hardworking, she didn’t have one bad word during the whole thing and read her lines perfectly.

“He is quite the sight, huh?”

Misha’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you haven’t even noticed that Clyde was already gone. Standing next to you, she crosses her arms on her chest, eyes glued to the man in word.

“He has a great presence on the stage I heard.”

“He does?” you ask glancing at her. She nods, tugging her bright red hair behind her ears, a cheeky smile playing on her lips.

“I mean, he has one in real life too, but the way he appears up there, it’s worth a prayer,” she chuckles. “Good luck with not falling for him.”

“I’ll stay professional,” you sternly state, pushing that little voice in the back of your mind that’s doubting your words.

“Professionalism is the first thing you lose when you find yourself in the arms of such a man,” she smirks at you before walking away, leaving you with a whirl of thoughts circling around what she just said.

Checking your schedule you see that though you’ll be pretty busy from now on, your days filled with singing lessons and dance practices, many of them are solo appointments, but your eyes spot all the times when Adam’s name is written besides yours and you have one almost every day.

Glancing in his way one last time your eyes meet his stare, a small smile playing on his lips that you return before grabbing your stuff and leaving.

***

“Okay, wow,” Lora gasps as the picture of Adam appears on her computer, it’s from about a year ago, portraying him with slicked back hair wearing a long trench coat as he stares back at a guy intensely on the stage. You sip from your wine as Lora takes a good look at him.

“Yeah.”

“How tall are you compared to him?”

“My forehead is at his mouth, more or less,” you say recalling how tall he looked standing right in front of you.

“That’s a nice height difference, like, you’ll have to tiptoe to kiss him, it’s cute,” she grins at you and the thought of kissing him send a shiver down your spine. You’ve been thinking about that a lot since you’ve left the table reading, the memory of his eyes on you and the words of Misha haunting you relentlessly.

“What’s that look?”

“What look?” you ask quickly straightening your expression, taking another sip of the wine.

“Oh I know this look, the guy is already messing with your head!”

“He is not,” you shake your head, but you can’t fool your best friend.

“Oh hell yes. I don’t blame you, he looks fine.”

Turning back to the computer she starts typing, digging deeper on the internet trying to find more about him as you lean your back against the headboard, hugging a pillow to your chest. You really can’t have yourself fall this easily for a man who you’ll be working with so closely. Adam seems nice and everything you’ve heard about him is quite impressing, but you don’t know what kind of man he really is. For all you know he can be the biggest jerk in all of New York City.

“Oh my God! Look at this!” you hear Lora gasp as she leans closer to the screen. Sitting up you wonder what she found and looking at the tab that’s open there is a short film playing.

Well, it’s not the type you were expecting, because right on the screen in front of you, there is Adam’s broad back in a light colored shirt, his hair a little longer than it is now and he is… fully spanking a girl bent over a work bench, wearing only a white tank top. Your mouth hangs open as the scene carries on in front of you, the girl or more like woman grunts with each hit on her lower half begging for him to go harder as Adam calls her a slut and a whore, making it probably the most disturbing cinematic thing you’ve seen that’s not officially considered as porn.

“I’m speechless,” Lora lets out an airy chuckle as the scene soon ends with the woman jumping into his arms and you realize she is not even wearing any underwear.

“What… was that?” you whisper with wide eyes. Lora types in a few things before she can answer that question.

“It’s a short film he did last year with someone named Jessa Johnson, it was a private project. It says the story is based on events from his own life.”

“So you are saying at one point he spanked some girl he was dating and then he decided to make a movie out of it?” you grimace in confusion. This is definitely not something that you would have ever thought of him.

“Oh, and the juiciest of all is that this Jessa girl was his girlfriend,” she continues reading about the film. “This article came out six months ago, they were together then. It adapts the happenings of his private life, how he dated the best friend of his ex-girlfriend.”

“Okay, that’s pretty fucked up, don’t you think?”

“Depends,” she shrugs as she keeps scrolling. “But this film is definitely a nasty one.”

“I can only imagine what else is in it,” you mumble finishing off your wine and reaching for the bottle you pour yourself some more.

“Wanna figure it out?” she grins and you shake your head no immediately.

“I don’t need inappropriate images in my mind when I’ll be stuck with him at rehearsals.”

Knowing how your conscious works you just can’t take the risk. If he appears in more inappropriate scenes in the film, you bet your life that you wouldn’t make yourself think of anything else when you look at him the next time. The spanking is already more than you would bear with.

“I wonder what else there is about him that we don’t know of,” Lora narrows her eyes staring into the distance.

Adam Sackler has given you way more to think about than you would have ever expected from someone and you haven’t even talked to him that much. His appearance, his words to you and the things the internet is holding about him, it all shows a different person and you can’t decide which one is the real side of him or where he stands if it’s a mixture. You wish you could just ask him all the questions you have about him and get your answers without being judged or have them held against you, but you are left with silent suffering and slow observation until you finally figure this handsome looking mysterious man you’ll be forced to cross paths every day.

general/forever taglist for Adam Driver

i do separate taglists for different people, but not for different works of mine! if you ask to be on my Adam taglist, you’ll be tagged in all of my Adam fics!

@superdriver @siren-queen03 @holacherrycola90 @spencer-is-amazing @unusual-kindred-spirits @hailthemightywoecloud @holy-kylo-stars @kowalskibro-adamdriverblog @hurricanesunset @writerandee @luxury-0pps @prncess91 @malefoygal @zaahidahhh @filternotincluded @fire-in-her-veinz @emily-strange @ktellmeastory

if you’d like to be taken off or added to the list, please let me know!

#adam driver #adam driver imagine #adam driver fanfiction #adam sackler #adam sackler imagine #adam sackler imagines #adam sackler fanfiction #adam sackler fanfic #adam sackler x you #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler x y/n #hbo girls

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

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Black Coffee - Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

GIF Credit: X

@mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad!

Nolan Sorrento + 15 - “I’d kill for a coffee... literally.” Yo @mendelskrull - I remember a tag of yours once saying that you also love the CEO x PA trope, so I went full on with this! Please enjoy! 😘❤

Author’s Note: I think this was originally just meant to be a cute watching him make coffee scenario and then I kind kept building on it and now we have this. I’m really coming into my own with writing for him - considering how hard it’s been for me in the past... Anyway, I really like this one. It was a lot of fun!

Disclaimer: RPO Characters not mine / lyrics not mine / gif credit as appropriate (Thanks again Joss!)

Premise: As much as you like bringing coffee to your CEO, it’s just as enjoyable when he returns the favour. Maybe you can persuade him that it’s not the only thing that can wake him up this morning...

Words: 2580

Warnings: sexual connotations

_________ Day dreamin', chain smokin' Always laughin', always jokin' I remain the same Did I tell you that I love you? Brush your teeth and pour a cup of Black coffee out - I love to watch you do that every day The little things that you do Each moment is new Freeze the moment Each moment is cool Freeze the moment I wouldn't wanna be Anywhere else but here I wouldn't wanna change Anything at all

---

Both of you were rushing. You weren’t exactly sure why, because the CEO of IOI was never late for anything, not even a supplier meeting – even when he was probably running five minutes behind schedule. You might shoulder the blame for trying to catch him just before he ought to be heading to it, but a certain someone decided to drag you into his office for a makeout session and now had to run halfway across the building to his meeting room. With you giving chase if only to go through what you ACTUALLY had to remind him of, and what you’d tried to catch him for in the first place. Eventually Nolan realised the same as you – he couldn’t be late! - and slowed down; heck, he didn’t want to turn up to a meeting out of breath as it was, that would raise a bunch of awkward questions. So you actually got to tick things off your list as he instructed you. And finally you got to the one you were the most curious about; “Oh! Nolan! Why does your dentist keep ringing? It’s the 5th time this week!” You’d had the note on your desk for the past few weeks, but it was always something he’d get to - you were started to get annoyed at having to pick up the phone to them. His face flushed, “Oh don’t worry about it!” “Well I do worry when I ring back and they’ll only talk to you!” You narrowed your eyes at him, “I’m your assistant Nolan, it’s literally my job to book things like this-!” “It’ll be okay!” He waved away your suggestion. “Really? Nolan! What are you doing to your teeth-?!” “Nothing-!” But his voice pitched and you reckoned that couldn’t be further from the truth. “Your teeth are fine the way they are! I like them...” Then your head tilted, “Well, okay, maybe if you smoked a little less.” He scoffed, giving you a sharp look, “That’s enough outta you!” But you thought it was important to also keep his health at the forefront of your mind. Nolan’s smoking habit was casual, but he still did it.

As you rounded the corner to the meeting room Nolan stopped dead, and it became clear that he hadn’t made a note of exactly what he was about to walk into. “Oh god who invited them-!” No, they certainly weren’t one of his favourite vendors, he’d made that apparent when he asked you to book it in. “Uhhh, it’s been on your calendar for like 2 weeks.” “Really?!” “Mhm - I did remind you yesterday morning.” “I was a little... distracted yesterday morning.” He better not have been blaming you again. “Uh huh.” You pushed the folder in your hands into his arms, and waited for his hesitant hands to take it, this was only one part of what he needed and you needed Nolan to focus on you right now so you could hand it all over, “Go get ‘em.” It was at least a little sarcastic, he would hate every second. “Oh god…” He blew out a breath, free hand to his forehead, “I’d kill for a coffee... literally.” - yeah, it’d be them being killed, too. “Black?” It was like an instant response, with a soft smile He smiled, “You know my order by now, c’mon.” “Well,” you grinned “just wanted to check you didn’t want it extra strong-!” You knew how much Nolan hated this particular group of suppliers. “Ehh, good call, wouldn’t go amiss-!” “Will you need anything else, Sir?” You handed his tablet over, files he’d need for the meeting already pulled up, awaiting him to call upon them. “No, thank you Y/N, this should be sufficient.” You smiled sweetly, the gentle touch to his arm encouraging, “You’ve got this.” His hand hovered over yours for a minute, but he didn’t touch you – remembering himself, “I surely have.” You liked the confidence in his smile. You gave a nod, turning to leave and then back to him; “Should I get one for anyone else?” For one, you knew that to bring him one you would have to walk into the meeting with it – and people would become curious as to why they weren’t all being offered coffee. Nolan immediately scoffed; “NO.” You sighed, knowing that was hardly the way to treat important guests even if he despised them, “I’ll have some sent up and I’ll go out for yours.” He nodded in agreement, “This is the kind of thinking I hired you for, right?” There was a sudden glint in your eyes that made Nolan shiver; “Sure, if that’s what you tell yourself.” But immediately that sugar sweet smile was back “I’ll make sure I don’t send up the good coffee!” Then you winked, “Have a good meeting, Sir.” You got halfway down the corridor before you remembered one last important thing coming up; and luckily, as you expected, Nolan was watching you leave. He always was predictable. “Oh! You’re ready for the conference next week, right?” “Yeah! Yeah! It’s gonna be a good one - presentation and notes being reviewed as we speak-!” “As long as you’re on top of things-!” You nodded and turned to go make him coffee, but Nolan called you back. “Oh! Y/N!” “Mhm?” “You are coming to the conference with me, right? I’m gonna need someone to keep track of things for me...” You smiled “Yes, I’m going with you. That is my job, Sir.” Nolan nodded, mind already wandering, “Good... that’s good.” “Anything else?” “No, no, Y/N - carry on-!”

*** The conference was four days long, starting on a Sunday of all days. Which meant you both arrived on Saturday, to give you a day to settle in. Two rooms were always booked, only one was ever used. You thought you were either IOI’s best kept, or worst kept, secret. No one ever acted like they knew, or even hinted it – but it wasn’t like Nolan made anything about his flirting or checking you out subtle. You’d seen him lean back in his chair with a raised eyebrow, rolling his tongue over his bottom lip at your too high heels and too short skirt before (not that you thought these things, but occasionally some of the bitches that worked here would make comments of their own.). Not that you minded, half of your work wardrobe you picked out and wore for him. The first day had been a lot of fun, he’d had a few client meetings, but aside from that, it had been wandering around stands and prospecting. IOI had their own of course, and Nolan had spent a long time making sure it was perfect, before thanking everyone manning it for being here. He of course was giving a workshop of his own – not only that, but he was Tuesday’s keynote speaker. A very important role. You were here to make sure everything ran smoothly, that Nolan was where he was supposed to be at the right times, that he had everything he needed and that you were picking up all his emails & calls whilst he was busy. Such was your role as his PA. But a role you couldn’t have enjoyed more if you’d tried. You liked reading emails to him out loud in your most sarcastic tone depending on what people had sent him, and Nolan would ask you to type his reply just as sarcastically, which most of the time would have you in stitches. Before he had enough of you standing around in his button up and dragged you to bed for something he would consider far more fun. With Sunday out of the way, and Monday consisting of a celebrity Keynote, and some workshops Nolan wished to attend himself – you weren’t that bothered about settling into your day until this afternoon, where you’d have to set the room up for him. Although you were checking in with IOI news as he got ready, enjoying the background noise of him pacing the room to get washed and dressed; the scratch of his razor against his skin, the slide of silk tie against cotton shirt, click of watch strap into place. “How we doing?” “Stock is up.” You mumbled, smiling gently as he leant over to kiss your shoulder, “…Matthew’s rerun sales numbers and they’re better than projected… uhm, Carlo says there’s a routine system upgrade tomorrow but you should know about it?” “UH. I think I remember him mentioning, it yeah…” You glanced at him over your shoulder as he neatened his hair in the mirror. That kind of response meant that Nolan didn’t have a clue, you rolled your eyes, typical. At least you were on top of things. “Also…” You rolled yourself in the sheets so you were facing the end of the bed and the wider room where he was, “I need to run through your day, even though I’ve pinged it to your calendar, so I know that I’ve told you-!” Nolan chuckled, crossing the room to the coffee machine, “You don’t trust me, huh?” “You wouldn’t want me to be honest, would you sir?” You were lucky that raise a smirk rather than an upset look – he knew you were teasing. He poured – Nolan had this very meticulous slow pour, and always bit his lip when he concentrated on it. As his name would suggest – he would insist that Italian coffee was the only good coffee, and when he made it the way that he did, you weren’t about to disagree with him. You groaned from the bed watching him, even the position he stood in gave you all the lines of his body under that sharp suit. Apparently it was a little louder than you expected by the way he turned to you with a smirk; “You okay over there, darling?” It was your turn to bite your lip as he stirred in just the correct amount of sugar for you, and a dash of milk – you were not the black coffee drinker here. “I would be if you came back to bed.” “Oh no…” Nolan’s voice was sultry as he walked back over, holding the mug out for you he ran a hand through your hair, just enough of a tug to force you to look up at him. Your lips parted and his blue eyes flashed, “I should let you recover from last night.” You shivered in delight at the way he was looking at you, and your body was already telling you that recovery was the last thing it wanted. You took the cup quickly, clearing your throat and looking away from him as you blushed. “J-Just let me tell you your schedule!” “Oh my god, will you just stop until I’ve had some of this.” He waved his hand and slid back over to the machine to pour his own – straight black, with no sweetness. The kind of coffee a ruthless CEO would drink. You knew there was a lot of sweetness under there, he just didn’t show it to anyone else. Nolan came back and sat beside you, sipping his coffee thoughtfully and nodding along as you relayed the schedule to him – propped up on one arm as you read from the tablet. Every so often he had several presentations at the same time that he’d have to choose from, or some that might conflict with client meetings; “You can send someone else to the meeting… or… I could go to the workshop for you and report back?” He regarded you with playful curiosity; “Oh? You’d be interested in some of these?” “They do sound rather good – yeah.” You blinked up at him, “You’re a little more interesting.” “Oh really?” Nolan grinned, taking a gulp of coffee and leaning over your shoulder to pick some out with your help. Eventually you had three days’ worth of scheduling down (for him and yourself), and if he wanted to go to the keynote and his first workshop he ought to be leaving your side right now. Instead he was taking his time, sweet talking you and finishing his coffee. With his casual string of flirting, and your body still telling you to drag him back to bed and relieve him of that suit and tie, you couldn’t help but nearly beg him to stay. You couldn’t even talk for fear of what might come out of your mouth, only sipping your coffee as you listened to him. Watching the nuances of his face, and the way he moved his hands; Nolan had a lot of ticks and tells – and they all meant something different. It was as much your job to read these as his employee, as it was your job as his lover. But each one was fascinating – and today every movement was the story of a man that couldn’t leave; but knew he should. You took your final sip and placed the mug on the floor before looking back to him; “Nolan.” “Yes?” “Don’t you think you should be heading off?” Nolan hesitated, as if that didn’t say everything; “…Kicking me out now?” “I just don’t want to see the CEO I’m looking after be reprimanded for being late.” He tipped his mug back and set it, empty, next to yours. “Well, my PA probably has a point…” He straightened his cuffs and brushed himself down, before turning to you. But he paused and this was a fatal mistake. You’d had enough – and Nolan was hesitating – you reached out and grabbed his tie, tugging him to your lips. The sheets slipped from your body and he covered you instead – causing your needy sigh against his lips. “Y- Y/N…” He swallowed hard, “If you’re so insistent I go, then I really should.” But you were both playing the game of who could hold out the longest – who would be the one to say it? Truth was you weren’t so concerned with winning the game – just with having him back between your thighs under the sheets. “Just come back to bed... it’s not that important, right?” Nolan scoffed, but his hands were already finding yours, and he wasn’t using them to hinder your progress on his tie; “You’re the one who spent the last 30 minutes telling me how important my schedule is.” “As if you don’t change it on me last minute all the time when we’re in the office?” You raised an eyebrow and mocked his voice; “OH, Y/N, really – please, not this meeting. Push it out.” He growled, displeased, before claiming your lips roughly again, “If I wasted good coffee for nothing.” “I got to watch you make it, certainly not a waste of anything.” You pulled him back so that you could taste him; it almost tasted better from his kisses than it did from a cup. “Oh? Do you get off on that?” You gave him a wink, “It’s the little pleasures, Nolan Sorrento. About time someone taught you that…” He laid you back properly, placing a kiss to your neck, and again to your shoulder. “Well, I would like to learn…” His hands ran smoothly down your body and you sighed against the travel, “Maybe you could be my first workshop of the day.” You smirked, winding your arms around him and running your hands into his hair; “Gladly, Mr.Sorrento.” As it turned out the conference that morning wasn’t so important after all.

---

7/16 - Nearly at the halfway point!!! Thank you for requesting! 💙 Thank YOU for reading! 😘😘

#nolan sorrento #nolan sorrento x reader #ready player one #ben mendelsohn #There will never be enough Nolan Sorrento on my blog #Fun fact: I've already used the song /coffee/ - there's a draft called /black/ and this one is /black coffee/#Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes requests #smol bean drabbles #SO this is more a /the sentence is the theme/#I'm very surprised this needed very little editing! Which is a nice change #But it was kinda find the way it was :)#But some is from my phone notes so when copying it over i usually do a little bit of editing...#Theres SOOOOO much Nolan in my drafts at the moment oh my goodness #how did THAT happen #159 #YOOOO Dave is gonna me my 160? That makes me irrationally happy!#i forgot that I added the teeth thing and spent 10 minutes laughing at myself #Look it doesn't bother me but I thought at some point someone was gonna have to ask the question or mention it!!

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sstrongstyle · 4 years

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𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Adam Cole x OC, mentions of Seth Rollins x OC 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After nearly a decade of being the golden girl of WWE, Adaline Marin wants out. Their ring was no longer home, haunted by her first love and upon reaching her thirties, the face behind "Aspen Glory" wonders if the passion she once had was still ablaze. Instead, she gets sent down to NXT to join the Undisputed Era. The next three hundred and sixty-five days, all captured by cameras for the history books, become a year of revival, reinvention, and realization with her legacy at stake and a new flame from the past emerging. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: All characters are referred to by their real life names (for the most part) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I love feedback! Please send some my way! <3 Very background heavy chapter, no real fun, but more to come. If you’re interested in being added to a tag list, let me know!

CHAPTER THREE.

June 8th, 2019

Adaline couldn't believe that she didn't just agree to this, but agreed for it to be done for an entire year. It wasn't like she cared about being in management's good graces and volunteered to do it, but she somehow got hoodwinked into agreeing to a 365 special on herself. She was the last person in the world to enjoy having cameras on her when she was out of the ring and no longer Aspen Glory. Doing interviews out of character for Adaline felt like pulling teeth. She avoided Total Divas at all costs. Even appearing on stuff like Ride Along and UpUpDownDown was difficult for her.

"Just call me the modern day Undertaker," Adaline rolled her eyes, but she smiled a bit, as she sat down for the camera.

She liked her privacy as much as any other wrestler that had cameras constantly on them, but especially since fans liked to pay extra attention to her life for whatever reason. Adaline attributed it to her once long term relationship with Colby, highly publicized at several points because of whatever dirt sheet rumours and private leaks that were thrown their way. She was quiet at all times, her Wikipedia page only covering her wrestling career, as she had been as vague about her childhood as possible in the past.

Raising an eyebrow at the producer, Craig, a few feet away, Adaline wasn't sure where to begin. "I can just talk about anything?"

Anything but the few things on the "no mention" list. Most were contributed by WWE, but a lot of other things were provided by Adaline. This included her past relationship with Colby outside of kayfabe and especially anything to do with Nikki Bella.

"Start with talking about your career so far. You can name drop companies and non-contracted performers, but only because we'll be editing whatever we don't want aired, anyway."

"Right," she shifted slightly, unsurprised. "Well, I'm turning thirty-two this fall, so this will be into my sixteenth year of doing this thing."

She wasn't exactly sure why the Network executives wanted to give her a 365 special. As far as she knew, most of the episodes were focused on wrestlers overcoming serious injuries or taking the next great step in their careers. Was this what NXT was supposed to be for her?

Craig's expression remained blank, as he pushed his semi rimless glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. "You started at sixteen years old?" His eyes never left the clipboard in front of him, where she assumed was a list of prompts to ask.

"Yeah, I dropped out of high school in the tenth grade and I worked retail and other random part time jobs for two years while training and working local shows in Toronto. Bingo halls, high school gyms, random parking lots, you know," Adaline explained further, still trying to loosen up her tense shoulders. "When I turned eighteen, I dropped everything and moved to the United States because I knew I was limited, wrestling where I was wrestling. I was an illegal alien with no plan and just a few hundred dollars—the dumb indie wrestler dream."

It'd been so long since she looked back at that time in her life. Once embarrassed by her roots, Adaline felt a warm, fuzzy feeling at the pit of her stomach and couldn't ignore the swelling of pride in her heart. She'd come far.

The look on Craig's face induced Adaline to continue, so she took a deep breath. "My early work happened in Pennsylvania, where I fought my way into gyms and I mean fought. It was really hard at that time for a woman to be taken seriously. It was guys like Drew Gulak and Jon—" Although Craig said that she was allowed to name drop non-contracted performers, she was positive that uttering the former Dean Ambrose's name wasn't worth it. "—um, who helped me learn the ropes and culture in that area. Chikara's Wrestling Factory really helped me out and I did stuff for them and other places like CZW. Drew was the head trainer at the CZW at the time and was one of the first mentor figures I had."

If Adaline had to put her money on it, she would have said that Craig was bored out of his damn mind, but then again, he had the same expression on his face ever since he walked into the room. "Did you just stay in the northeast for that portion of your career?"

"I ventured a bit more west as time went by. Definitely lingered around Illinois for a while, since it's where the top independent women's promotions were at the time. Funnily enough, I ended up living in Chicago for about ten years after that." To be with her boyfriend, but she didn't mention that. "I did some time on the west coast, not as much as I wish I did, but I definitely had some fun doing stuff in California and for a split second, Mexico. Three years into working in the States and I somehow, by a miracle, land myself in the locker room of Florida Championship Wrestling."

To this day, Adaline wasn't exactly sure how she got in. The tape that she sent the developmental recruits was god-awful and her tryout promo was more than cringy. However, looking at other people in her recruitment class, it was clear that officials and scouts looked at potential over everything—how well could they be molded into the WWE standard, the ceiling of their entertainment value. She wasn't sure if she should feel flattered that they saw that in her or not or if they simply saw that she could be easily manipulated.

"It was definitely a time down there. Difficult, yes, but I learned so much." Adaline could recall nights crying into her pillow out of frustration for where her training was going and how she was treated by the other talent. Girls often claimed how hard they were judged for being models and dancers before coming to FCW, but it was just as hard being an "arrogant indie schmuck." There weren't many women from back then who could relate to the garbage that she went through.

Craig asked, "Do you think performers then had a harder time in FCW than the recruits down in the PC and NXT today?"

She paused, taking the question in. "Not a harder time, per say, but the process is much smoother now, while being more of a burden. We have the state of the art Performance Center now, compared to that warehouse we used to train in. NXT gets so much more exposure now that it's harder to reinvent yourself at your own pace." Adaline said. "In a way, because NXT is now its own brand, I would say that talent from the FCW era were much more catty in the sense of starting drama and wanting to move up to get on the road with the main roster talent. The divas division back then was a very different culture to the women's locker room here at Full Sail, which is now very welcoming. Everyone wants to help each other, not drag them down."

There was nothing Adaline wanted to do more than expose certain names, but she held herself back. The catty environment, the hazing, the drama and sabotage, was too much for her. She was just glad that she move on from there quickly, as her memories in developmental hurt her as much as they did help her.

"And after FCW?"

Adaline grinned. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows what happened after that."

For the first few years, she was afraid that the only reason she got lumped in with The Shield was because she was Colby's long term girlfriend and that they assumed he would be most comfortable with her as their valet. After all, Adaline wasn't exactly progressing as a character in FCW. She was scared of that, and only being considered as eye candy and a side item for the boys. It took years of understanding from other people and seeing the product in the eye of the executives that they truly must have seen potential in her.

And if all of the above were true anyway, then Adaline made damn sure to prove herself to be otherwise in the past few years.

"My time with The Shield was everything I could ask for and more. I'm glad I spent that portion of my career with those guys, I don't think I could have found my way around without them. We were all definitely kind of lost, but we had each other, and we were really family." She wanted to say are family, but things were different these days.

Adaline talked to Joe the most, at least up until her move to the yellow and black brand. He texted and checked up on her often while she was off TV. Jon came here and there, but things were different. She only kept up with him through Renee, since the man clearly had yet to discover how to reply to a text.

Then, there was Colby.

Things were good the first couple months after the big finale. As fine as they could be, really. They were on different brands leading up to Wrestlemania, which contributed tremendously to the smooth sailing. After the Royal Rumble, though, things got. . . weird and of course, she hadn't known it yet, but it was around the time he started seeing Becky.

"Hey, Becks, some of the girls are going back to my hotel room after the show," Adaline had tapped Becky on the shoulder after catching her outside of the trainer's room during the later hours of Elimination Chamber. "You gonna come and kick my ass in Mario Kart?"

For whatever reason, Becky's expression dropped. "Oh, uh, actually, I'm just gonna head back to mine. Call it in early, y'know?" Tripping over her words, the fluster in her voice was a tad suspicious to Adaline, but she brushed it off.

She'd proceeded with her plans with Pamela and Leah, playing video games into the early morning. Adaline didn't even think of Becky and her obvious excuse until Leah mentioned that she ran into Becky on her way back to her own room.

"It was written all over her face! Someone definitely got lucky that night," Leah mused at the makeup table, two days later at Smackdown. "Who do you think the guy is? She's definitely not one for random hookups."

Adaline knew that she wasn't owed an explanation to Colby's new love life, but she was a little disappointed that she figured it out on her own. The little things, the rumours she heard backstage, all pieced together for her to realize what was going on between the two of them. Maybe Adaline wouldn't have felt so ruffled about it if it wasn't made to be so weird and secretive. She didn't tell anyone what she found out, keeping it to herself until they announced it themselves.

"Stop making excuses for him, I know why he's late." She didn't even look up from her phone, as she waited in the passenger's seat of the group's rental car. "He's with her, right?"

This was at the tail end of The Shield's farewell era in February earlier that year. Though, Adaline was not heavily involved in the storyline as some expected her to be—the escalation to her own Wrestlemania feud had been going on and she had duties to fulfill on the Smackdown brand. She wasn't there for the buildup throughout the month on Raw, but she was able to join the reunion at Fastlane. It was the group's last match together and the group begged personnel to let her be apart of at least the final moments.

Joe and Jon simply exchanged looks with each other in response. They clearly knew about the couple and probably found out from Colby himself. While nobody said anything to Adaline about it, deep down, they all knew that nobody needed to. She knew Colby more than possibly any other person in the world and the two weren't surprised that she figured it all out.

"Right." Jon was the one who chose to break the awkward silence. "Well, he can meet us there. Let's get this show on the road, we got some beautiful people waiting to see my beautiful face at that bar." It felt a little wrong to not wait for Colby on their way to the roster's "Goodbye Shield" party at a local watering hole, but even Joe was sick of waiting and started the engine.

"We had the time of our lives in that initial run. There's just too memories that I'll cherish forever, you know. But, my memory of all time is surprising the fans at Fastlane, when I showed up to accompany the boys to the ring one last time and having that farewell embrace as the show went off air." Adaline quickly blinked back the tears, as sensitive as ever, but she didn't like showing that side of her to the camera. "I swear to god, time seemed to just completely stop for those few minutes. It was out of this world, nothing like it."

The most magical part of wrestling was the crowd, there's no denying that. On the eve of Fastlane, Adaline felt mountains of love and excitement from the fans, knowing that they were witnessing the end of an era. All four of them knew it was the end of an era, in many ways more than one. Adaline and Colby, who were always known as a collective, rather than individually, were now apart and were now moving on from each other. Mox chose to chase his dreams elsewhere, away from the three that became his family. Joe's legacy in the industry was building and building, year by year. They were no longer the people they were in 2012, having finally gotten a taste of wealth and glory after early years of struggle when the four used to share a single hotel room to save costs.

She'll always be grateful for her run with The Shield. At the beginning, she was just happy to be in a main roster storyline. She was just happy to be able to maximize her time with Colby. Beyond that, Jon and Joe became her family. Bickering over who's turn it was to drive after long house shows, getting to know Joe's kids, playing video games in the locker rooms and every hotel room, and nobody leaving the trainer's room until everybody was clear. No one got left behind.

Back then, it was like that. Now? Adaline can't help but feel like she's come to that point, without any of the three by her side for the first time in a decade.

Craig sighed a little too loudly, rolling up his sleeve and glancing at the shiny watch on his wrist. "We're running out of time. We'll touch on your time with The Authority and everything since then for our next interview day, maybe also dig a little deeper into your new alliance with Undisputed Era." Adaline tried not to breathe a sigh of relief, already worn out from the questions. "Last thing. What are your expectations going into NXT, considering all that you've gone through in sixteen years?"

A question that she didn't know the answer to.

"It's good catching up with you. You have your locker number?" Coach Bloom stood up from his chair from across the desk, extending his hand for Adaline to shake.

She nodded, taking his hand. "Yes, sir. I'll be on my way, then."

Being called into the head trainer's office was similar to the feeling of being called into the principal's office and she had more fear in her body than someone who had just arrived should have had. That was the feeling that Bloom gave off to all NXT residents, but she knew that there was always care behind his tough demeanour. He simply wanted to welcome her properly to the PC on her first official day.

Meanwhile, Serena had been sitting to the side of the two of them and she couldn't confine the grin stretching across her face. When they had shook hands, she instead pulled her old friend into a tight embrace.

"I'm so happy you're here," she whispered into her ear, not caring that Bloom was rolling his eyes at them, mumbling about something for the two women to take it outside of his office.

They had only reunited so few times since Serena signed on as a coach for the Centre a year ago and it only made the moment feel so much sweeter. At the very beginning of Adaline's career, Serena had served as such a helpful mentor figure, even going into their short lived time in the FCW women's locker room together. To have their paths intersect once again, at yet another pivotal part in Adaline's life, seemed poetic in a sense.

Adaline walked out of the office, in tow with Serena. "I guess I'll be responding to your drills again, huh?"

"And you better do it damn well," she raised an eyebrow at the younger woman. "I'm still in shock that you're here. They really didn't want you going anywhere else, huh?"

Shrugging in response, the Canadian sighed. "I'm in shock, too—considering that NXT wasn't apart of the plan." Adaline was getting tired complaining about how the wool was pulled over her eyes during her contract negotiations, but it was starting to fully settle in. Meeting the guys in Hunter's office softened the blow. It was time to shut up and accept the facts.

"People everywhere watched what you did all over the world during those two years that you were gone. You don't need this company to be a star, they need you," Serena said. "Have you maybe considered that you're here because you did all you could do on RAW and Smackdown?"

Those words echoed in Adaline's head, as she trudged into the women's locker room.

It had almost ten years since she started this journey in this company and it seemed like almost everybody that started with her had already grown tired of it. Her first road wives, April and Celeste, were long gone. Danielle decided that she was worn out and was gone. Trinity had recently taken time off and wasn't sure when she was coming back to the ring. Saraya, someone who Adaline thought would be wrestling in her sixties, was retired. Even the goddamn Bellas weren't around anymore. Ninety percent of the division from a decade ago was gone. Wasn't she exhausted, too?

She envied women like Becky and Pamela, who were still hungry for more. There were others who had just made the main roster and some down with her in NXT now, who suffered through the struggles of the indies and were still ready to claw up to the top. Adaline wondered where that drive was for her.

Every locker was labelled by ring name, some with more long-standing plates—mainstays like Io Shirai and Bianca Belair. Meanwhile, others simply had a laminated piece of paper slapped on top of the metal. These were the recruits who had yet to prove themselves, the names that Adaline couldn't recognize.

A shiny, new plate shone on the locker that sat at the corner of the room. Aspen Glory, it read, in all of its permanent lustre.

She slammed her gym bag onto the bench, the impact echoing throughout the empty room. The process felt foreign, making a locker home when Adaline spent so many years travelling to probably hundreds of different arenas and treating each space and moment as temporary. She wasn't sure where to begin, as she unlocked the door and was met with a clean, baby blue interior.

There were some basic things that she brought, like extra socks, a water bottle, and shower shoes. Adaline quickly filled the locker up with these contents and it still appeared so barren to her. What the hell else was she supposed to put in it? She shrugged, not thinking too much about it. Then, she heard the door creak open.

Somewhat hidden away from the front of the locker room, Adaline could hear a distinct voice that seemed to be talking to someone over the phone and a smile formed, hoping it was who she thought it was.

"Yeah, that sounds good for dinner. I just got into the PC, I think Cheree's already waiting for me. You know how she is, she's always early. Alright, bye, Johnny, I love you. See you."

A flash of blonde hair only confirmed Adaline's suspicions. It was Candice LeRae, who hummed the melody of a 90s pop song and chewed bubblegum, as she strolled over without noticing the other female in the room. She easily unlocked her name plated locker, which was across from Adaline's, and nearly everything spilled out from it being too full.

She groaned. "Oh, crap," Candice said, trying to chase a bottle of dry shampoo that had begun rolling across the floor, only to be met with Adaline's bemused expression.

"Hi."

"Hey," Candice replied with a grin, a little perplexed.

Almost instantaneously, they pulled each other into a hug. Knowing that she would be diving head first into the unknown, Adaline was aware that she couldn't navigate all on her own. The two Breezango idiots were too busy figuring their own things out and she couldn't voice her anxiety to her new stable mates, wanting to give off a confident face. There were only so many people that Adaline could turn to outside of them, so she gave Candice a heads up that she was now reporting to the Performance Centre.

Adaline bent down and reached out for the lavender can for her shorter friend, passing it to her. "Your shit's a mess, girl."

"Yours will be, too. Give it a month," she rolled her eyes and peeked over her shoulder at Adaline's belongings on the bench. "You're moving in today?! I honestly did not expect to see you here so soon."

"I told you that I landed a few days ago, didn't I? I've been in meetings all weekend," Adaline replied with a groan. She had only been in Orlando for such a short amount of time and the amount of work and settling she had to do was taxing. The NXT tapings hadn't even begun, yet.

Candice said, "Yeah, it doesn't really slow down for another week or so. You'll love it here, I promise." As everyone else had promised Adaline, who clearly wasn't convinced.

The blonde turned around and put the can back into its place—if it even had one, in that mess of a locker—and began rummaging through her personal possessions. Candice let a out a soft a-ha! when she found what she was looking for at the back of the space, a Minnie Mouse hairbrush. Adaline chuckled softly at the sight and turned around, closing her own locker.

"Are you off to go workout?"

"Yeah, Cheree's wanted to get some cardio in. Any more meetings today?" Candice replied.

Adaline shook her head. "No, just moving in." She gestured to her gym bag and locker.

"Well, while you're here, the taping schedule is posted up by the west wing double doors, you know, the ones to the main gym. We can check it out together. Actually, would your name even be on there?" Candice thought to herself, considering that she was one of the few people who were made aware of Adaline's presence. The taping schedule wasn't usually subject to the change unless there was an injury, but producers were known edited the cards last minute to accommodate random returns and debuts before, at least once the talent found out.

The woman in question just shrugged in response. "Beats me. It doesn't hurt to look, right?"

"Then, we can check out the travel schedule. Ooh, I hope you're coming with us to the midwest loop at the end of the month!" Candice became giddy. "We'll hit the road together, no men! I wish we got to do that more often when you were in Cali."

Adaline didn't get the opportunity to do so often, but she loved wrestling in The Golden State and especially in PWG. When she worked with them in the past, she always travelled and hung out with Candice.

"I don't think so, but probably the next one?" she shrugged.

The two began chatting more for the next few minutes, mostly about Adaline settling in and her new house. Always the lazy type, she'd been procrastinating and the boxes in her home were left untouched, despite her promising herself that she would get it all out. The small talk about something other than wrestling for once settled the restlessness in Adaline, a small distract of sorts.

It wasn't like she disliked talking about wrestling, rather it was all that seemed to be on her mind for the past while since Wrestlemania. Somehow, it was the first time Adaline really took notice of that, considering she lived, breathed, and ate wrestling for the past sixteen years of her life. A part of her felt worrisome for the sudden awareness of it, wondering it had any relation to her other career concerns.

Unfortunately, the brief, sweet wrestling-free moment was cut short when the locker room door slammed open.

Everyone knew who Shayna Baszler was, or at least, every woman in the company did. After all, the current NXT Women's Champion was probably next in line to overtake your spot in the animal kingdom. Management wanted to push her to lead the division once she would inevitably leave NXT and become a box office draw for all of the big pay-per-views and tours and media.

Some said that Shayna was one of, if not, the most intimidating women on the NXT roster and bore a vicious gaze. Even upon entering the locker room that was nearly empty, her presence demanded attention. All eyes drew to her so naturally and so quickly as they tore away from her out of fear.

"Out of my way," was all she had to say to Adaline, not even flinching at the sight of the veteran and former women's champion.

Adaline zoned out for a moment, completely baffled by the attitude that she was just given. She couldn't help but scoff, trying to process the disrespect that was being shown to her.

She narrowed her eyes at Shayna. "The hell did you just say to me?"

In between them, Candice just sighed. It seemed like that she wanted to end what was going to be an ugly dispute early, but something held her back. Adaline hoped it wasn't out of intimidation by the former mixed martial artist.

Shayna stared back at the woman in front of her. "You think you can just waltz in here and act like you got this brand on lock? They get tired of you on the main roster and Japan couldn't offer you enough money, so you come down here to fuck around?"

Adaline wanted to find out how Shayna found out that she was going to be here, but that wasn't the main concern of hers. Her jaw nearly dropped to the ground, hearing Shayna's words. Clearly, she didn't like her or some rumours already began to float around backstage. Regardless, Adaline was already on the bad side of the de facto locker room leader.

With the fury running through her body, though, she didn't give a damn.

"I'm going to say this once, so you better listen up," Shayna began, "I think you're entitled. I think that you've ridden on the coattails of your ex-boyfriend for your entire career. So, I don't like you. Plain and simple."

"You think you know me?" Adaline's voice began to rise, but Shayna held up a hand and didn't let her finish.

She said, "Maybe for you, being here is like a little vacation before someone like Ashley Flair gets injured and creative will need another spoiled brat to bury their women's division with on Smackdown. For some of us, NXT is our entire lives. Don't mess that up for us."

With that, Shayna bumped Adaline's shoulder when she walked away to the other side of the room and behind a wall to another area of lockers. All she could hear after was the stomping of boots and the slamming of a metal door open. Meanwhile, she was in complete shock of the conversation that just happened, wondering if she just imagined it.

Looking at Candice's sheepish expression, though, it confirmed that Shayna Baszler did indeed strut right up to Adaline and cussed out one of the scariest warnings that the latter had ever heard in her life.

"Honestly, she gives that talk to every new girl," Candice said in a low voice, as she ushered Adaline out of the locker room.

"You can't be serious," Adaline shot back, still worked up over what happened. It took all the will in her body to not barge right back in and swing at Shayna's smug face.

The target was now on her back and she had yet to even step into the yellow brand's ring. If she was being honest, it was definitely a wake up call to where she was now and the expectations weighing down on her shoulders. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. She didn't even want to be here. Adaline wouldn't admit it out loud, but she was terrified for the first time in years.

#adam cole imagine #adam cole fanfiction #adam cole x reader #wwe fanfic #nxt fanfic #wwe imagine #hm series

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into-crazy · 4 years

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Man Under the Makeup Pt. 2

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Female Reader series

Warnings- Cursing, that's about it

You can find the other parts RIGHT HERE and through the “Man Under the Makeup” tag lovelies!💘

It's been two weeks that you've last seen of Arthur- or his work character Carnival, for the matter. Ever since you've both unexpectedly met, it just seems like he vanished. Having seen that video Murray played on The Franklin Show a while back. The one with Arthur performing stand up comedy act. You never cared for Murray Franklin or his show to begin with. It's one of those shows that plays when you leave the television on for some background noise.

The other night however, when you recognized Arthur's sweet voice on the tube, you immediately jumped at it to see him. Almost tripping over the dinning room table's leg with how fast you ran over. Then seeing Murray and the audience laughing at Arthur, not realizing- or caring- that he was having one of his fits. Now that just pissed you right off. You felt so bad for him. Hoping it hadn't hit him too hard if he had saw it himself.

Although other assumptions came to mind. You figured he might have joined the new cause- Apparently, there's a rather large group of clowns going around the city with their "Joker For Mayor" agenda. Seems as though the lower class people didn't want Thomas Wayne to take over as Mayor when he was alive. They're still angry considering another wealthy man is trying to run in Wayne's place. Starting to grow sick of the oh so needy and greedy continuing to drag this city farther down, benefiting only the wealthy in the process. They have strong confidence in this man- Joker. Believing he could bring some real change, no matter what it takes.

You'd seen groups of these supporters in various parts of town. Having kept your distance, because you've heard they could get violent. The majority of them wore masks and carried signs around. The design on their masks looked similar to Arthur's makeup design, you had thought. Hm, maybe Arthur was already a supporter before it became more mainstream.

Whichever the case, it bummed you out not getting another chance to see him. Everyday that you walked past the sight you would scan the area for him. Searched the sidewalk for the dancing, colorful clown man. But you found nothing, he wasn't there anymore.

Speaking of clowns, you have heard about the Joker- but never actually seen him. It's been a while since you've had time to properly watch the news or read the papers. Though he is quite the topic in conversation these days. Especially after he had shot Murray live on the show, which is what everyone's saying. Recalling quite easily, you missed that show because you went to bed early that night. Wanting, rather needing, the extra hours of sleep. The loud noise of the riot passing by your window had woken you. Confused, you peeked outside to make sure it wasn't cause for worry. It wasn't, they just seemed to be passing by. Minding your business, you fell right back asleep once it was quiet again. That was just a couple nights back, it's been hectic ever since.

All you've been hearing- Joker this, Joker that. Joker. Joker. JOKER. Not giving much care as it wasn't your concern.

It was your day off, so you decided to make a run into the city. You wore a tanned dress that went just below your knees. You had on black heals and your hair was in a ponytail as it was rather warmer out.

Still early, you were taking the above-ground subway. Being careful to avoid the areas that were flooded with the angry hordes. Many of the passengers aboard are on their way to work or run errands. You're just glad you didn't have work today.

Seated in the aisle seat, there was an older woman sitting right up front. The train came to a halt, and it appeared to be her stop. She struggled trying to get all of her bags out of the seat.

"Would you like some help with that ma'am?" You offer standing up.

"Oh, why yes. Thank you." She hands you a few bags while carrying some herself, then you walk with her towards the exit doors.

"Here you are," you say handing them to her as she gets off. Her frail arms surprisingly able to carry the bags.

"Thank you again, dear." She happily praises before slowly heading off.

Walking back down the aisle, you spot a loud commotion coming from the other end. Slowing down, you look over to see what all the noise was. Entering the train from the doors on the other end- a group of men in clown masks.

Great. Just what you needed today, huh?

They all looked the same. Although there was one individual who stood out, he wasn't wearing a mask or holding a sign- no. His face was painted white, with blue around his eyes, red nose, brows and smile. His long hair, wild green. His suit deep red, with an orange vest and green shirt underneath. That must be him. He fits the description of what you've listened to. Plus, he's leading the rowdy mob down the aisle.

Shit. Wait.

They're heading your way. Should you turn around and get off the train? You don't want any trouble. But you're not gonna let anyone think they can scare you. No. You're not gonna flee away like a scared little girl. Fuck that. So you keep walking with your head held high. All of this over thinking. Yet as the man gets closer, you sense something far too familiar. Wait a minute.. His face, those features, you've seen him before. Then you figure it out, recognizing him to be Arthur! The one you previously encountered, Arthur Fleck!

No wonder I haven't seen him around, you thought. Would you look at him?

Getting closer, a lit cigarette in hand, he spots you. Instantly remembering your kind, lovely face. Still, even now that you appear to have a smug-like expression. The woman I ran into a couple weeks before.. What was her name? He brings his hand to his mouth, inhaling the tobacco. Ah y/n! He recalls flicking the cigarette. Contemplating whether he's actually talked to you before- that it was not another illusion he's given himself.

Stepping up, you stop in front of him. As does he. Not allowing them to easily pass by, and his crew doesn't have it. "Show some respect broad! Move out of the way!" A masked man demands aggressively, earning him a scowl from the Joker.

"Now, now," you slyly tell him, "is that any way to talk to a lady. I'm just trying to get to my seat." Not moving, you bring your focus back to Arthur- or Joker- rather. "Joker? I presume. Your men need to be taught some manners."

He quietly chuckles and waves the man away. "Daring are we," he tells you. Cocking his head to the side, looking you over.

"Just try me," you whisper leaning closer towards his ear. "Arthur."

Caught by surprise, you can feel how tense he got just from how close you were. There he is. Drawing back and seeing his amused expression, he seems pleased you knew it was him. Though who wouldn't? Pretty much everyone knows that he is the Joker by now.

"I just might my dear." He glanced around to make sure no one else hears as he leans closer to you. "We need to catch up. Have dinner with me later?" His voice low and deep next to your ear.

"Where?" You quickly ask.

"Meet me at six, by the place we've first came across one another. Do you remember?"

"Of course I do. Six this evening, got it." You confirm.

With that, he pulled back. "Well then," clearing his throat, "gentlemen, if you will, make way for the lady." Turning to you, he motions for your hand, which you don't hesitate to give. He takes it, placing a delicate kiss atop. "See you tonight." Rubbing his warm thumb over your fingers.

"Absolutely." You finish before heading down the path while Joker and his crowd exit the cab- carrying on with their previous actions. Feeling the passengers glare as you sit down. Certain they're judging, but you could care less.

Arthur's the Joker. THE. JOKER.

A quiet man who seemed to keep to himself. He came off as the kind who'd avoid attention and confrontation. Or so you had thought. Out of everyone, you wouldn't have figured that he is the crazed man making all the noise throughout the city. Leading mobs around while trying to take over. He's a different man- he's bold, his energy's more out there, and there's a swaggering in his walk. It's just insane! You admire his new confidence, it's captivating. But the need to know why the sudden change, ponders.

Also coming to the realization that Arthur is the one who shot Murray! Including those three men on the train. It was him! He's got their blood on his hands, and who knows who else's. Now you just have to know. The question is, are you ready to get caught up in this chaotic situation? Are you prepared for what's to come?

Staring down at your hand, you spot the little bit of red from his lips left on top. Ahh, the irony with the paint he tends to leave with you. Smiling as you wipe it with your thumb, yes. Yes I am..

End of part 2.

#Man Under the Makeup #joker #joker 2019 #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck x female reader #joker x reader #joker x y/n

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duckapus · 5 years

Text

My Danny Phantom Reboot (as was owed for the Phight)

Okay, so first off I should mention that this is going to be less “what if someone made a reboot of Danny Phantom now” and more “what if Danny Phantom was done right to start with.” This means there’ll be more emphasis on storytelling and characters, none of H*rtm*n’s usual shenanigans, but the storyline as it was is going to be more-or-less intact, depending on what I think I can salvage.

So, let’s talk powers.

Danny is going to have all the powers he did in the show, given gradually and with clear foreshadowing. His ghost sense is currently just a bit too conspicuous, so I’ll be changing it from a wisp of cold breath to a chill up his spine, though for the sake of the audience there will be a visual and audio indicator of it, much like Spider-Man’s spider sense. Starting out, he just has that and the three basic ghost powers, though they won’t work properly for a while, and I’ll make it clear that this is because his half-ghost status prevented him from gaining the instinctual knowledge to control them outright. While there are some abilities that he gains during times of stress (like ectoblasts and the ghostly wail) he’ll have to actually practice in order for them to work with any level of consistency.

Like I mentioned, there will be some foreshadowing, specifically when it comes to his ice powers. There’s going to be multiple points where someone mentions that he has cold hands, with many of those people being ghosts to imply that it isn’t a ghost thing. There’ll be more emphasis on Ghost Cores and Core Types. Danny isn’t going to be as affected by warmer or colder temperatures as other people, usually being the last one to need to put on a jacket. He’s going to be somewhat weak to fire-based attacks. And there’s going to be a multi-episode buildup to his powers freezing him.

I’m also going all-in on the space motif. His bedroom is covered in star stickers and NASA posters. He tends to look up at the stars whenever he needs time to think. He isn’t afraid of heights at all because up is good, up is safe, up is home, and flight is the only power he never has trouble with as a result.

And now, for Danny’s parents. First off, for this, they do not want to destroy ghosts. They want to study them, understand them, and keep people safe from the ones that cause trouble. They know full well how little they actually know and how small their sample size is- that’s why they’re working on equipment to actually explore the Ghost Zone in the first place! Yes they’ll screw up, and jump to conclusions, and be a bit too enthusiastic. Yes, they’re working off of some pretty big assumptions, because that’s all they’ve got. But at the end of the day, they’re the first to admit they’re not perfect. And as far as priorities are concerned, they’re parents first, scientists second, and hunters third(if even that).

Jazz and Tucker are already good as-is, as are most of the ghosts, so let’s move on to Sam and the “A-listers.”

So starting off, because I’m not Fartman, I will not be vilifying the popular kids just because they’re popular. For Qwan, we’ve already got the fanon of him being a sweet cinnamon roll who’d be a great friend to everybody if he were just able to say no, specifically to Dash. And with Star I’ll be going with a strong-willed girl who’s fully willing to call the others out when they’re bullshit goes to far, though she’s admittedly got a looser definition of “too far” than she should.

And now the big three. So my interpretation of Sam, Dash and Paulina is that a big chunk of their issues come from them not quite growing out of their jackass middle schooler phase(you all know what I mean). That’s not all of it, or even most of it, but it’s a big enough part that them acknowledging it will be a huge step in the right direction.

In Sam’s case, a lot of it also stems from her need to control as much of her life as she can, which developed in response to how little control her parents let her have. This ranges from harmless (her love of gardening and “ultra-recyclo-vegetarianism”) to really not okay (her tendency to manipulate or strong-arm people into doing what she wants) with her harsh judgement of people and trust issues landing somewhere in the upper middle. All of this to say that she’s a lot more like her parents (and Paulina, to a lesser extent) than she realizes.

With Paulina, while she does still have a lot of problems, being a crazy, obsessive fangirl isn’t one of them. She knows full well that her feelings for Phantom are just a celebrity crush and they aren’t about to get together any time soon (the boy’s dead as far as she knows, for god’s sake!). She’s also very observant, not to the point of finding out the truth about Danny but enough to realize quite a few other important details…

With Dash, all I’m really going to be changing is that his Football Star status absolutely does not give him free reign to do whatever he wants, because I respect Mr. Lancer more than that.

Admittedly I haven’t quite figured out their other classmates yet. And Valerie’s arc is already good as-is, though I won’t be including her getting shunned by the “A-listers” because this version of Star ain’t gonna let that fly. I’m also including Wes, because his antics are glorious and I think I can do some cool stuff with him.

Now, along with giving the characters better characterization in general, I’ll also be giving them their own time in the limelight to show what Danny’s situation looks like from an outsider’s perspective. Valerie in particular ends up as something of a secondary protagonist.

And now we come to Vlad. Oh, Vlad.

Okay, so in this version, Vlad inviting the Fentons to the reunion was a genuine attempt to reconnect. Unfortunately ghostly obsessions are powerful things, and he sort of relapsed into hating Jack and wanting Maddie for himself. Things more-or-less continue as normal, though with his desire to take on Danny as an apprentice coming off as him actually, genuinely wanting to teach Danny how being a halfa works, which makes it a little comically awkward when he tries to turn their battles into a teaching moment. He still becomes the mayor, though this time around it’s because he genuinely thought it was a good idea, and he got voted in legitimately.

Unfortunately it all sort of goes downhill after a while. Due to his current mentality of “tired old uncle just wants to get over his issues and help out” clashing with his obsession with Jack and Maddie, he’s sort of cracking, and the fact that Danny adds an extra layer to both isn’t really a good thing.

And then we get the clones. In this version, they all last a lot longer, and sort of act as Vlad’s minions for a while. The Frankenstein’s Monster-esque one sort of acts as a big brother to the others. He’s also very smart, even if he can’t really say much, and as time goes on he starts to realize that something is very wrong with Vlad. It all comes to a head when Dani is created, because Vlad realizes that even with a human half she still isn’t stable and something inside him just snaps. At this moment, there’s now two Vlads in there; Masters, who’s honestly just tired of all the fighting and pushing people away, and Plasmius, who’s essentially season three Vlad in all of his megalomaniacle obsession-fueled glory. Frankendanny’s destabilization is a big moment in this, as are the other clones holding back Vlad as they’re melting so Danny and Dani can escape at the end of the episode.

Dani still ends up traveling after that, though she’s not just ignored as she’ll be sending Danny postcards of places she’s been and there’ll be a few episodes dedicated to her adventures (with some hints to her instability getting worse.)

D-stabilized is where thing get really crazy. This is because while I’ve been distracting you with my Danny Phantom remake, there’s been a secret, second remake of Fairly Oddparents hidden in the background! I won’t go into too much detail, since that’s not what this is about, but It follows the same structure of apply overarching story, focus on characters, trim off what doesn’t work. Because of this, Timmy happens to be in the same city where Valerie finds Dani (I don’t think they were in Amity Park yet, but I’m not sure) and meets Dani before Valerie does. The episode plays out more-or-less the same (Val uses Dani as bait to catch Danny, gives Dani to Vlad, Danny appeals to her better nature, she finds out that Vlad is an evil half-ghost and that not all ghosts are evil thus shattering her world view) but with the addition of Timmy tracking her down to her weird holding cell/torture room place (seriously, what was up with that?) and then tagging along and somehow holding his own against Fright Knight with nothing but a blaster he managed to swipe from her (since not only does he have to deal with having human allies, but also the fact that magic doesn’t work that well on ghosts, which means no fairy help).

After that, there’s a few breather episodes to the end of the third season, mainly to do with Valerie processing everything she’s just learned.

And then Freakshow gets the reality gauntlet, because I’ve been holding that off until now. Danny gets his identity revealed on live television, the Guys in White are after him, and Freakshow is holding Amity Park hostage until Danny can find the three stones he scattered.

There’s just a few small changes I’ve made:

The stones got scattered across the planet, instead of just the country

There’s no easy way to track the stones unless one gets activated, unlike in the original where they had ecto-signatures

Wes and the “A-Listers” get dragged along for the ride

Because Freakshow isn’t a complete idiot and realizes that it will take a significant amount of time to find the stones, the team has until the end of summer.

Instead of everybody being in cages (since that won’t really work with this time frame) Amity Park is surrounded by an impenetrable dome, and both ghost portals are clogged up. Nobody gets in or out unless the ringmaster says so.

The second and third parts of Wishology and an adaptation of Nicktoons Unite are happening alongside all of this, so along with GIW and ghosts the team is going to be dealing with the Eliminators and The Syndicate.

Carl, Sheen and Libby have somehow tagged along.

We’ll be calling this arc the Road-trip from Hell, and it, along with the other two story arcs, will be taking up the entirety of the fourth season. The other two arcs will experience changes as well, such as Dani going with Timmy, Mark Chang and the Villains to find the Wind Wand due to being in Dimmsdale when it happens, Catman, Chip Skylark, Elmer and Sanjay getting captured along with the rest of Timmy’s friends, Valerie and Tootie getting recruited by Jimmy to fight the Syndicate since Timmy and Danny are busy and they’re honestly the only two options, and Anti-Cosmo being the Fairly Oddparents representative for the Syndicate since Crocker is also busy.

For the sake of storytelling, I should mention that GIW is a fanatical splinter group of MERF in this continuity, and have already been established as major antagonists. Also throughout the season Fairy World is basically going to be a warzone locked in a three-way battle between the Fairies, the Anti-Fairies and Syndicate, and the Eliminators, which all three groups see at one point or another.

The final battle is really going to be four going on simultaneously- Danny and Team Phantom(which by this point will also include the reformed agents O and K, because I like them) vs Ghost Freakshow, the robot army just outside of town, and Lydia; the Nicktoons vs the Syndicate’s doomsday device; Cosmo in his Godzilla form vs everything the Syndicate and the Eliminators can throw at him, and Timmy vs The Destructinator (which will actually be a full-on fight, with the outsmarting thing just being Timmy’s trump card). It’s going to be really cool with a bunch of well-timed jump-cuts and everything.

Then in the aftermath I’m going to basically spit in the face of the status quo. Danny still erases peoples memories of his reveal, but leaves out the new members of Team Phantom (because if he has to remember the road-trip from hell, so does everybody else), and it also doesn’t work on Valerie (or Tootie) since they were in Jimmy’s universe at the time, which is going to be Fun for Danny to deal with when she gets back. Timmy, Chester and AJ are also immune, due to AJ secretly making the three of them immune to memory wipes in general so Timmy wouldn’t have to forget his fairies or go through what happened in the first Wishology again. He would’ve done the same with Elmer and Sanjay, but he didn’t get the chance.

After all that, season five is a return to the norm, other than dealing with the new character dynamics, the Vlad situation, and all the Fairly Oddparents stuff leaking in. I haven’t really worked out all the specifics, since I sort of got caught up in the season four stuff.

Note: For obvious reasons, I cannot actually reboot Danny Phantom and/or Fairly Oddparents. Unless I come up with ideas later on down the line, or other people decide to add their own ideas, this is what you get.

(@phandomphightclub, I did it!)

#danny phantom #dpreboot #fairly oddparents #reboot #concept #phantom phight club #lost a bet #phantom planet isn't canon #this was fun #long post #sorry

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sunshinevanfleet · 5 years

Text

summer ‘78

c h a p t e r o n e - a flyer in the wind

[disclaimer: none of the images in the banner/any graphics belong to me, all credits go to the respective owners; all i’ve done is edit the images. please excuse me in advance for any historical inaccuracies/discrepancies, i was not alive in the 1970′s. i’m doing my best to research, but i’m not checking every minuscule detail. all events and characters in this series are fictional, or used in a fictional manner.]

a/n: here’s the first chapter of my new series! you can find my series masterpost here! the tag for this series is svfs78! there are still no romantic pairings at the moment, but i’ll be sure to include them when the time comes! hope you lovelies enjoy!

word count: 1.6k

summary: y/n meets a charming stranger in her father’s record shop; little does she know, this is the catalyst for the wildest summer of her life.

warnings: swearing

You grumbled under your breath as you hurried down the street, late for work. If your dad knew you were late, you’d definitely be in hot water, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. With a string of swears, you brushed the sweat-slicked hair off of your forehead and tried to hurry your step even further. Around you, the streets of your little town were busy with bustling morning life.

The sun shone with a renewed vigor, the first official day of summer giving it a new life that it’d been starved of for the past few months. Floating above you, the summer sky sang with a cerulean haze, trembling in the heat of the late morning. Once again, you swept sweat from your brow, feeling the tickle of a single drop slip over the curve of your cheekbone and drip off the angle of your jaw. The heat was killing you already, and you dreaded being at work all day when you could take a few hours to drive to the coast and spend the weekend there. But, your father made it impossible.

As you shoved the key into the front lock of the shop, a piece of paper was lifted by the wind, and carried your way. You swatted at it, cursing as the fingers of your freehand crumpled around the yellowed and lightly water-damaged flyer. Quickly, you glimpsed the words on the front, reading GRETA VAN FLEET. In the back of your mind, you wondered what it was but pushed the thought away as you dropped it into the bin when you finally got inside. Whatever it was, you wouldn’t have time to check it out with your work schedule, even if you wanted to.

A sigh floated from your lips as you followed the opening procedures, not paying much attention as you straightened out shelves, cleaned up, and opened up the blinds of the front windows. You could think of a million different ways you’d rather be spending your summer, but you needed the extra money if you were ever going to get your own place. You were so close to being able to move some place nice, but you wanted to have some money to fall back on if you needed it.

As you settled in your seat behind the counter, listening to the dull riffs of a rock song playing in the background, you wondered what Jackie and Heather were up to. They were your best friends, and Jackie had been your coworker for a couple of years now. She wasn’t scheduled to work for a couple more hours, and you knew you’d be bored out of your mind until she finally showed up.

You knew Heather was still sleeping, probably curled up in her silk pajamas dreaming of fame and fortune. She was always up-to-date on everything to do with celebrity gossip, and somehow she’d weaseled her way into their circles. She’d met several celebrities that you knew of, and always offered to hook you up. At first, you thought she was joking, but then you saw the pictures.

Jackie was awake, likely getting ready for work despite the fact that she had several hours before her shift started. She was exponentially more responsible than you, but she had her moments, for sure. You couldn’t count the amount of times that you’d been called to pick her up from a party, drunk and stoned out of her mind.

The jingle of the bell on the front door interrupted your thoughts, and you glanced up to see a lone guy entering the store. His brown hair skirted his shoulders, and he offered a shy smile as he began to browse.

“Can I help you with anything?” you asked, peering at him over your book as he fingered through the records.

“Just lookin’ around,” he replied casually.

You offered a mere nod in response, but eyed him for a second. Something about him perplexed you; maybe it was the way he carried himself, his cool demeanor and slow, calculated movements. His hands flipped through the vinyls so carefully, almost like he was gathering the feel of every album as his fingers trailed over them. He walked slowly, sauntering around the room with some kind of unspoken purpose.

As he turned away from you, you returned to reading your book. You didn’t want him to catch you staring like some kind of creep. A few minutes later, he approached the counter with a couple of vinyls in his arms, letting them slide from his arms onto the counter as you rang him up.

The soft sound of his voice interrupted you, making your hand stutter as he handed you his money. “Come here often?” You heard the tease in his voice, but met his eyes just to be sure he was kidding.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the bogus line, something that would normally make you scoff. It was kind of endearing coming from him.

“Yeah, I work here,” you replied with a laugh. He grinned, obviously amused that he’d made you smile. “How ‘bout you?”

He shrugged. “Not really. It’s my first time,” he said, in an exaggerated whisper.

You rolled your eyes. “Not much here,” you shrugged. “What’re you here for? I know it can’t be a vacation.” You thought of your town, settled in the desert and as barren as the land surrounding it. You’d rather be anywhere in the world than stuck in your shitty little town.

“Oh definitely,” the guy replied. “I love dust in my eyes every time it gets windy.” He winked at you playfully, and you laughed.

“Seriously, though,” he continued. “I’m here for some work stuff. No biggie.”

“Must be a real bummer, forcing you to come here.” You wrinkled your nose as you stuffed his receipt into his bag, pushing it toward him.

“Nah, it’s a pretty bitchin’ job.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t believe it,” you chuckled.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, then.”

“Guess I will.”

You watched as he smiled playfully at you and took his bag, headed for the door. Before he could leave, he turned back to face you. “What’d you say your name was again?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t. But it’s Y/N.”

“All right… See ya, Y/N.”

“See ya…” you trailed.

“Jake.”

“See ya, Jake.”

You weren’t sure you ever would.

A couple hours later, Jackie showed up for her shift. Her shocks of white-blonde hair were wild, as usual, but her expression was bright. She practically danced in the door, her striped t-shirt tucked in half-heartedly and her mascara smeared. You could feel the excitement buzzing off of her as she joined you behind the counter, propping her feet on an empty box.

“What’s up with you?”

She grinned at you, bouncing at her seat. She was probably happy you’d finally entertained her energy, for once.

“So, I was talking to Heather last night, and this awesome band is in town for the weekend. I was thinking that we should go… Can you dig it?” She quirked an eyebrow at you, the words flying from her mouth at a hundred miles per hour. You sighed as you sat back, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No, way. You know I have to work late all weekend. What band is it, anyway?”

Jackie rolled her eyes at you, as if you were being the most obtuse person she’d ever met. With a sigh, she glanced out the window and pointed out one of the flyers. “It’s Greta Van Fleet. You haven’t seen all the flyers?”

“I’ve seen them, Jackie. Who are they?”

She groaned. “I know you’re joking…” When you said nothing, her face deepened into a frown.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, the bell on the door jingled and you saw the face of Heather. It wasn’t uncommon for Heather to show up and hang out around the record shop, even though she technically wasn’t supposed to. But what your father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“Heather! Tell Y/N about the concert!”

Heather’s face brightened instantly, and she leaned on the counter when she reached the two of you. “Oh, yeah. You have to come. It’s gonna be far out,” Heather enthused. She brushed a long strand of dark hair out of her eyes, and continued. “We’re gonna crash the after party and everything.”

You rolled your eyes. “I have work. I don’t even know how you manage to get in all these after parties, anyway.”

“Her sister’s in Playboy,” Jackie butted in, as if that actually made any difference.

“Yeah, Lisa’s in Playboy. I’m practically famous.”

“Oh my god,” you huffed in exasperation, flipping to the next page of your book even though you hadn’t really been paying attention. “I don’t have time for this.”

“You seriously can’t come to the concert?” Heather pouted.

“No. My dad would kill me.”

“You’ve gotta start standing up for yourself. He can’t control you forever, you know.” Jackie said.

“I need this job, guys. How else am I ever gonna move out?” You glanced between them, but they were both silent. With a sigh, you shook your head and dropped your book onto the counter.

After a moment, Heather spoke up again. “At least come to the after party.”

“What?” you gawked at her.

“Oh, please! You need to get out! Your life is a total drag. You never do anything fun!”

“She’s right, Y/N,” added Jackie, her tone sheepish.

You groaned, frowning at the both of them.

“What time does it start?”

#svfs78 #queue are my special #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fic #gvf imagine #gvf fic #jake kiszka imagine #josh kiszka imagine #sam kiszka imagine #danny wagner imagine #jake kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x reader #danny wagner x reader #sam kiszka x reader #my writing

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sign-from-god-complex · 5 years

Text

the choice is ours and ours alone

Summary: "Was there a reason you felt it necessary to interrupt my sleep, Virgil, or was this simply a poorly timed social call?"

There was a pause and a deep breath before Virgil continued. "Oh, uh, yeah. Pat and I were wondering if you guys wanted to come out and have lunch with us? We have something important to tell you."

Or, Virgil and Patton have some news they need to share with their best friends and Logan worries about some things he truly shouldn’t be worried about. (With autistic Logan and nb Patton, because I can.)

Pairing: Logince with background moxiety.

Warnings: Food (drink?) mention and very brief mention of fighting.

Tag list: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard

AO3 Link

Logan was woken up by the sound of his phone going off next to him, it's constant vibration on the bedside table forcing him into consciousness. Part of him wanted to let it ring through, however, Logan was sure that if the buzzing went on any longer it would wake up Roman, and then he would have to deal with his whining all morning and that truly wasn't worth it.

Cursing the fact that he was a light sleeper, Logan fumbled around for a moment with his eyes still closed before grabbing a hold of his phone and answering the call.

"What?"

There was a chuckle from the other end of the line that Logan personally thought was far too smart for this early in the morning. He simply did not have the brainpower to figure out social rules right now.

"Good morning to you too, L," Virgil laughed, "You do know it's 11 am, right?"

Logan cringed inwardly. He had been going to finish grading some papers this morning, but he supposed he’d just have to work through the movie this evening instead. Roman would likely complain, but he'd make it up to him another time.

He was glad that the call was only Virgil though, as he didn't really have to worry about social niceties or accidentally saying the wrong thing. Virgil was his oldest and closest friend, he'd heard far worse from him than early-morning (or he supposed, late-morning) irritability.

His sleep-addled brain was slowly realising that this phone conversation was going to be longer than he'd hoped and so he quietly slipped out of bed to head to the kitchen. He was going to need some coffee.

"Well... we went to bed late last night," Logan mumbled, pulling the bedroom door shut behind him.

Logan let Virgil believe it whatever he wished about the nature of last night's activities—he was certainly not going to tell Virgil that their exhaustion was due to Mario Kart. When both halves of a couple were as competitive as the two of them were, a video game is never simply a video game, and Mario Kart was one of the worst.

They'd been tied for hours into the night, neither of them willing to concede to the other until finally Logan pulled ahead and claimed his rightful place as the best Mario Kart player of the household. Roman was going to be sulking about it for weeks.

Virgil laughed. "Oh yeah? Prince Pompous still sleeping then?"

Logan swept around the kitchen counter and pulled out the coffee, humming a confirmation.

"He's so cute when he's asleep," he quipped, "It's a guarantee I'm actually going to have some peace and quiet for a moment or two."

"Eh, you love him really," Virgil replied and Logan could hear his smirk through the phone.

"Mmm, so he keeps telling me."

He measured the coffee into the French press before filling it with water and waiting for it to brew.

The French press had been a housewarming present from Roman's friend Remy. Both Roman and Logan were very fussy about their coffees, a fact Remy knew well considering he’d been their regular barista for several years. Roman didn't use the French press very often—Logan was generally up far before his boyfriend, plus he preferred to get coffee from the place down the road when he had the time—but Logan made good use out of it.

"Was there a reason you felt it necessary to interrupt my sleep, Virgil, or was this simply a poorly timed social call?"

There was a pause and a deep breath before Virgil continued. "Oh, uh, yeah. Pat and I were wondering if you guys wanted to come out and have lunch with us? We have something important to tell you."

Logan frowned. Virgil generally avoided making vague statements, since he knew first-hand how much anxiety it can cause, so this was truly odd. He grabbed out another mug for Roman—it seemed he was going to have to get up sooner rather than later.

“That would be acceptable, Virgil. Same place as usual?”

Logan poured the coffee into the mugs—milk and sugar, along with whipped cream and caramel drizzle for Roman and cinnamon for himself—hearing Virgil breath a sigh of relief.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, sounds good,” he said, “How long you gonna need to get Roman out of bed?”

Logan huffed a laugh. “We’ll be there in half an hour.”

“...So, 45 minutes?”

“Yes.”

———————————————

Logan pushed his way into the busy cafe, dragging Roman by the arm behind him.

His boyfriend had understandably not been very pleased with being woken up on their day off, but the coffee Logan had placed on the bedside table had enticed him into some degree of alertness. Once Logan had explained Virgil’s call and their scheduled lunch date he had ceased his grumbling—he never could be mad at those two, even if they had disrupted his lazy morning in.

Of course, Roman had managed to take even longer than expected to get ready. Even after 2 years of living with Roman Logan could not predict his behaviour to any useful degree. Some days Roman was ready in 20 minutes, some days it took hours; Logan almost felt as if he was doing it on purpose to frustrate him (and knowing Roman, that was not such an outlandish idea).

“Woah! Woah, specs,” Roman said, stumbling his way around one of the tables, “Slow down! What’s the rush?”

Logan paused and glanced towards the back of the room, catching a glimpse of Patton and Virgil seated at their regular table. Their backs were to the door and they looked deep in conversation, so they likely weren’t yet aware of Roman and Logan’s arrival.

“We are already late, Roman, thanks to your obsessive hair styling and 30 different outfit choices. I am merely trying to avoid us wasting any more time.”

Logan wasn’t going to admit just how worth it that extra time had been. Roman looked gorgeous, almost ethereal, in the dark red dress he had picked out—outfit number 14, if Logan remembered correctly. He had almost considered cancelling on Virgil so the two of them could stay in and make out for a few hours, however, the anxiety he felt over Virgil’s announcement had prevented him from doing so.

Roman rolled his eyes and pulled his hand out of Logan’s grip, forcing Logan to turn to look at him. “It’s Virgil and Patton. We’re late to see them all the time! What are you so worried about?”

Roman’s ability to see through Logan almost completely was often appreciated—it meant he usually didn’t have to admit to not feeling 100%, Roman could just tell—but it was often annoying too. Hiding surprise gifts or events was virtually impossible, and hiding emotions was even worse.

The two of them were both equally as likely to try and play off any bad feelings as tiredness, but they were also both highly aware of the other’s capacity for deception. For Roman, picking up on Logan’s lies seemed almost natural, and Logan wished it was the same for himself. He was aware that he wasn’t the most observant person; when it came to Roman’s mental health and wellbeing, however, he was certainly willing to make an effort.

Logan clung to the wall, trying to stay out of the way of any passing employees.

“...Virgil told me there was something the two of them wished to discuss with us. He sounded quite serious and he didn’t give any more information than that which is extremely out of character and-” Logan realised he was rambling and cut himself off with a sigh. “I suppose I am just concerned is all.”

Roman seemed to consider this for a moment, before pulling Logan close and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Logan fought back the blush that rose up at the action as he wrapped his arms around Roman’s waist.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, love. There’s no need to jump to conclusions,” Roman mumbled into his hair.

Logan couldn’t tell whether Roman was being sincere or whether he was equally as worried now that he had been made aware of the circumstances for this meeting, but he accepted the comfort regardless, savouring the contact for a moment before pulling away. As much as he wished he could remain in Roman’s arms forever, they were still in public, and they still had places to be.

“Yes, of course.” He offered a small smile. “Now, let’s not leave our friends waiting any longer.”

The two of them made their way over to the table—side by side this time—before dropping into their usual seats across from Virgil and Patton. The conversation cut off mid-sentence as the two turned to greet them.

“Logan! Roman! Hi!” Patton’s eyes lit up almost instantly, making Logan relax even further.

Patton didn’t look worried, but then, it was often very difficult to tell—even Roman had admitted to having trouble puzzling out Patton’s emotions. The only one who really seemed to know was Virgil, so he supposed it was fortunate that the two of them were romantically involved.

Roman beamed across the table. “Greetings, Patton!”

“Salutations.”

Logan watched Roman shift in his seat slightly, turning his gaze to Virgil.

“And how are you faring this afternoon, my dark and stormy knight?” The question seemed innocent, but Logan knew it was Roman’s way of testing the waters on Logan’s behalf, helping them both judge the nature of this announcement.

Virgil gave Roman a curious look for a half-second before it faded into general amusement.

“‘m fine.” He took a sip of his coffee, Patton and Virgil clearly having already grabbed one whilst they were waiting on their friends’ arrival. “…How’re you?”

Roman raised his eyebrows. “Good! Good…”

There was a moment of silence across the table that Patton seemed entirely oblivious to, tracing lines in the condensation on the outside of their mug. Virgil narrowed his eyes at the two of them, confused as to the sudden tension.

“Logan informed me you had something important to tell us?” Roman said, clearly tense.

A look of understanding crossed Virgil’s face and he chuckled. “Lo, it isn’t anything bad! I thought it was my job to worry in this friend group.”

Logan exhaled, glad to have confirmation that all was well. The idea of any one of his close friends being in anything less than an ideal situation was upsetting, to say the least. He wasn’t particularly known for his emotional reactions, but he did truly value his friends, even if it didn’t always seem that way.

“My apologies,” he said, adjusting his glasses, “I am aware I should not have… jumped to conclusions.”

He bumped his shoulder into Roman’s subtly and felt Roman push back, confirming he had received the message—a thank you and an acknowledgement that he had indeed been correct tied into one.

“Nah, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have deviated from our norm without giving you an explanation—I know that throws you off. But really though, it’s not bad. It’s… um…” Virgil smiled down at the table for a moment before glancing over at Patton. “Pat, you wanna-”

Patton threw their hands out in front of them, barely missing their coffee mug with the gesture. “We’re engaged!”

Engaged.

Logan let that information sink in for a moment, aware that Roman was offering his lavish congratulations but finding himself unable to do the same.

It wasn’t as if he wasn’t happy for them. He was! It was excellent that Virgil had someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, especially after all the years of passionate self-hatred and despair Logan had been witness to.

Logan loved Virgil, and he loved Patton, and he was so pleased that they had found each other.

It was just…

“L, you good over there?”

Virgil’s question cut through Logan’s thoughts and he threw his head up to look at him. Virgil seemed anxious, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, and Logan immediately felt guilty for causing him distress. He didn’t want it to ever appear like he didn’t approve of their marriage, that wasn’t the case in the slightest.

“Yes, Virgil, I am fine. Congratulations, you two.” The smile he gave them was sincere, but he knew they could all tell it hid a lot behind it, even if they couldn’t tell exactly what.

Roman grabbed his hand under the table and squeezed it and Logan could feel that squeeze mirrored around his heart, causing him to swallow and try to keep his expression as neutral as possible. He squeezed back because that is what he was expected to do, but it was weak. After a beat, Roman let go and began mindlessly tracing patterns on the palm of Logan’s hand, trying to distract him from his thoughts.

Logan softened instantly at the way his boyfriend always seemed to know what to do to comfort him. Gods, Logan did love him. But… was that enough?

“So, tell us the story!” Roman exclaimed, aware he was losing Logan to his worries again, “Which one of you was it?”

The rest of the lunch went by without much incident, barring Patton finally knocking their drink over with their gestures, narrowly avoiding getting hot chocolate on their new skirt.

The two of them had explained that Virgil had been the one to propose. He’d supposedly had a whole day planned out with a picnic and taking Patton to a dog park and everything, but had instead ended up proposing in the early morning, Patton looking “so soft and beautiful” lying next to him that the words had just tumbled out. Logan had commented with a smirk that proposing accidentally was incredibly in character for him and he’d noticed Virgil relax a little bit, laughing at the friendly jab.

They hadn’t planned a date or anything for the wedding yet, considering they’d only been engaged for about a day, but Patton said they were leaning more towards the spring or summer so they could have it outside. They were also, of course, both expected to be the best men—Logan Virgil’s and Roman Patton’s—something they had gratefully accepted.

Roman seemed quite enamoured with the whole idea, theorising on wedding gifts and whether or not he would be permitted to wear a bridesmaid’s dress instead of a suit for the entire drive home. Logan had remained mostly silent, letting Roman’s excited rambling wash over him as he tried his best to remain calm—he didn’t want to get into an accident because he was distracted by other thoughts.

Once they arrived home Logan had planned to head upstairs—possibly try to get some marking done before tonight—but it seemed Roman didn’t agree with that idea.

He grabbed his boyfriend’s arm, spinning him around and pushing him onto the couch before throwing himself down beside him. “Alright, Lo, spill. What’s up?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Logan lied. He attempted to push himself up off the couch but almost immediately found himself with a lap full of Roman, making it virtually impossible.

It wasn’t very often that Logan lamented the fact that his boyfriend was so much taller and stronger than he was. Even if he’d never admit it out loud, he rather liked being tucked under Roman’s chin or into his chest—it made him feel safe. However, the one thing he did not appreciate about it was Roman’s ability to keep Logan in place so easily (well, he wouldn’t lie, there were benefits to that too, but now was not the time to be thinking about them).

Roman lowered his face to hover right in front of his, so close that Logan could feel the air of each breath. “Please talk to me, Lo.”

And Logan couldn’t deny him that.

Instead, though, of taking any time to think through the way he wanted to approach this, Logan simply blurted out the first thing that popped into his mind.

“I don’t want to marry you.”

Logan regretted the words almost as soon as they came out of his mouth. Clenching his jaw and breathing in slowly, he glanced up to look at his boyfriend. Roman was very still, his brow furrowed, confusion and hurt warring for precedence on his face and Logan internally cursed his poor impulse control.

“Okay…” Roman spoke slowly, waiting for him to continue.

Logan screwed his eyes shut for a moment in an attempt to get his bearings. He was finding it difficult to think with the way Roman’s body was pressed against him, so hot and close, causing his skin to prickle and his hands to tap against his chest.

Through his thoughts, he heard a quiet, “Am I closing you in too much? I can move now if that would make you more comfortable.”

At his nod, Roman pulled himself off of Logan and settled in next to him again, waiting patiently as he tried to find the words to articulate his thoughts.

“Patton and Virgil got together a few months before we did,” Logan began, “It will be their 3 year anniversary in a few weeks. In a few months, it will be our 3 year anniversary. We have both been in a relationship for approximately the same amount of time and they are getting married and I don’t think I’m ready for that yet but I do love you and I want to make you happy so if you want to-”

Roman pushed his lips to Logan’s, cutting off his anxious babbling. Gentle hands cupped Logan’s face and he pressed in even closer, craving the comfort and warmth his boyfriend was providing him. He didn’t realise he had begun to cry until Roman drew away, wiping away his tears with his thumb. He inhaled shakily.

“Oh, Logan, sweetheart. You do not have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” Roman gazed at Logan lovingly, tracing patterns on his skin again. “Quite honestly, I doubt I’m ready for marriage either. Each relationship is different and you shouldn’t judge our progress by anyone else but us, okay?”

Logan cast his gaze down to Roman’s hand against his, watching mesmerised by the repetitive motions. “If… you’re certain. I just want to ensure that you’re happy. I know that I can be-”

“You’re perfect,” Roman interrupted calmly, grabbing both of Logan’s hands in his and squeezing them tight for a moment before releasing them, “And I am happy, Lo. I promise.”

After only a moments hesitation, Logan shifted himself onto Roman’s lap, curling up and resting his head against Roman’s chest. The warmth didn’t seem quite as overwhelming now that his thoughts had settled slightly.

“Alright... I love you.”

Roman stroked Logan’s hair, a soft smile gracing his face.

“I love you too,” he whispered.

In 7 months, Roman and Logan would arrive at their best friends’ wedding, standing beside them as they proclaimed their love and committed themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. The wedding would be soft but comfortable, taking place in the garden of their house that Patton so carefully tended to. Roman and Logan would both make speeches that made both Virgil and Patton cry. They would go home happy.

In 9 months, on his day off, Logan would make a trip into town and return with a small box in his pocket, something he was finally sure of. It would sit in the bottom of his closet, hidden in an old suitcase, and every time Roman laughed or teased him or fought with him over something silly—them both immediately running back, blurting out apologies and kissing through tears—he would become a little bit more sure of his decision.

In 10 months, Logan would take Roman stargazing on the hill where they met—Logan looking for a quiet place to study outside of his dorm and Roman looking for a place to practise his lines. He would make a speech during which neither of them cried at all. He would tell Roman of all the ways he had changed his life, would tell him how he could only hope that Roman would give him the chance to continue to experience his joy and warmth for the rest of his life.

In 10 months, Roman would say yes.

In 10 months, Logan would call up their best friends and vaguely invite them out for lunch, telling them they had something important to tell them. Virgil would laugh at him once he’d revealed the surprise and accuse him of being petty. Logan wouldn’t deny it.

In just under a year and a half, Logan and Roman would be married. Roman would be wearing a wedding dress because he would insist and Logan wouldn’t be able to deny him, and when he would finally see Roman walking up the aisle he would be glad he hadn’t.

Yes, in just under a year and a half, Logan and Roman would be married.

But for now, they weren’t.

And that was okay.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logince #roman sanders #logan sanders #moxiety #virgil sanders #patton sanders #lo can write #hell yeah!!!! I got something done I'm really proud of myself #the ao3 link will be up this evening!!!#probably between 6-7 edt #and I can't for the life of me figure out when is a good time to post things so this will probably be reblogged

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butchedyke · 4 years

Note

(for the char thing) stanley uris, mike hanlon, and patty blum

migz!!!! i’m sorry i abandoned this in favour of video games and capitalism i hope i can make it up to u uwu

this is mostly going off the movies but there’s occasional book and miniseries input- i’ve only read the first few chapters, a few wikia pages, and some character meta from the book and i’ve only seen the miniseries once vs the however many times ive watched the movies in the last 2 months so don’t expect consistency between canons

(also i’m gonna put these under a cut because this post got really long)

stanley uris

How I feel about this character:

there is a reason i use the tag baby boy for stan (and also for miniseries eddie)!!!! he’s my favourite loser other than eddie and i want to like. hold him and make sure he’s happy and healthy and i think stephen king should treat his characters better.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

patty!!!!! their relationship in the book makes me so happy and anyone who’s ever spoken to me about stanpat knows that i am at all times thinking about how she calls his car sedanley.

that being said, i respect stenbrough, stanlon, and streddie but overall this is a stanpat household

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

stan with all the losers but especially richie! which isn’t very original since they are literally best friends but their dynamic!!! good!!!! i’ve not been able to stop thinking about that one scene from the miniseries where richie introduces stan as “this is stan the man uris, he’s a jew,” partially because it’s fucking funny because who says that richie what the fuck, but also because stan just instantly follows up by saying that richie has a high metabolism which makes him hyperactive, and maybe it’s because the miniseries is campy and a little bit shit but the delivery of those lines makes it seem like they do this a lot! they have these introductions ready to go! and i love the idea of them as a platonic package deal even if we don’t get to see much of that in the movies

My unpopular opinion about this character:

i don’t think i really have any? i tend to follow people who hold the same opinions as me tho so i have no idea what’s popular outside of that dshfk

i mean i do think fics that save eddie but not stan aren’t really fix-its and going off the amount of fics where stan’s still dead i guess that’s somehow an unpopular opinion? i know everyone’s focused on reddie rn but god like. stan is right there can we stop ignoring him pls

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

i mean the most blatantly obvious answer here is that i wish he didn’t die! he should’ve gotten to go on his holiday and rail/get railed by his wife and live to meet his friends as adults, catch up on the 27 years they didn’t get to be with each other. he should’ve gotten to have kids, once everything was over, and they should’ve been able to grow up with 5 extra uncles and an aunt bc u can’t tell me the rest of the losers wouldn’t be deeply embedded in their lives. i just wish stan had a chance to be completely, 100% happy without the underlying terror of his childhood.

on a smaller note i also wish we’d gotten to see more of his interest in birds in the movies bc like. he’s babie. and who knows! maybe would’ve helped stop the perception that his entire personality is just being a bitch that hates richie jshfd

mike hanlon

How I feel about this character:

part of the reason i wanted to read the book was for more mike content because i adore this lil farm boy and the movies. well. y’know. :). characters who just openly and whole-heartedly love their friends and go straight ride or die like 10 minutes after meeting them have my whole heart! he’s so smart and so kind and just wanted to protect his friends as best he could even though he dragged them into this whole mess bc he doesn’t want to lose them again!!!! mike deserves the whole world and if his way of getting that is by getting out of derry and getting to know that his friends remember and love him and each other then that’s all i want for him.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

i wasn’t overly set on any particular mike ship until i watched the miniseries and saw the homoerotic bike montage and now i’m fully on the hanbrough train. choo choo.

just like with stan i support stanlon but endgame hanbrough is just. it’s right there in the text. bill didn’t divorce audra for nothing in ch2.

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

this also kinda ties in with the last point, but jane @billdenbrough opened my eyes, in the middle of a very in-depth conversation about audra’s minion strap, to the world of best friends mike and audra who are both with bill which is both galaxy brained and an incredibly good concept which i think about a lot

also i think mike and ben could’ve had something Incredibly soft if mike wasn’t treated like a background character in the first film and a quest-giving npc in the second one :) :)

My unpopular opinion about this character:

i headcanon mike as gay, i have no textual evidence for this, i just think he’s neat. i think it’s a pretty popular opinion that the movies treated him poorly? and i also think that in ch2 he was just trying to protect his friends in a scenario that did not lend itself at all to protection. drugging bill and not telling the others about the full ritual might not have been the best thing to do, but he was in a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation, and he was trying his best to save his friends no matter how impossible it may have been.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

i uh :) i don’t know if anyone’s figured out yet :) that i wish many things had happened with mike in canon :) :) the first film doesn’t give him much but the second film just infuriates me completely tbqh! he’s basically entirely there to push the narrative (his dialogue doesn’t even sound like dialogue! it sounds like prose explaining the plot and the next steps the characters have to take!), or to drug and lie to his friends. i wish they’d kept his backstory the same, that we’d actually gotten to see him find his token, that he’d gotten a token relevant to him as an individual rather than the group, that we’d gotten a flashback for him, that he was given more screentime and development across both films, like... i wish he’d been treated like the other losers and not a plot point.

i also wish we’d gotten to see him on his travels post-canon, seeing the other losers, and just generally actually getting to be happy- we see the start of it but god i just want to see him having a good time outside of derry.

patty blum

How I feel about this character:

if she were not stan’s wife she would be my wife. we don’t get to see much of her in the movie or miniseries and that is a fucking crime!!!! i’ve already mentioned sedanley but like. sedanley. i’ve read patty’s bit in the book and that’s all i need the other 1100 pages can get fucked, she’s just here to watch family feud and love stan which i can confidently say is a huge fucking mood

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

STAN. i guess i already talked about this before but i’ll keep going!!! my love for stanpat overwhelms my usual distaste towards straight relationships bc they’re so good!!!!! the fact that they’re really the only happy relationship to come out of the 27 year gap and they love each other so much and so like... wholesomely? but they still blow each other’s backs out on the reg and it’s what they deserve.

also i sometimes think about patty/audra as like. kind of a crack ship kind of a “i’m a lesbian and i’m desperate to see lesbians” ship. i haven’t thought about it in depth i just want to plant the seed

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

stan introducing patty to the losers and patty becoming an honorary loser is my weakness!!!! patty being comfortable enough to rib richie (and richieandeddie) with stan, but also vice versa going along with richie’s bits. patty and bev getting close because as much as st*phen k*ng and co push bev as One Of The Boys(tm) there’s just something in having another woman around that can be refreshing especially when they’re both bicons. patty and mike enthusiastically sharing holiday pictures and tales of their trips. patty noticing when eddie’s having a bad day, whether it’s anxiety or lingering trauma, and supporting him through it, regaling him with stories about stan and what essentially amount to dad jokes (sedanley!!!) and making sure he knows he’s loved and supported by all the losers. patty, the teacher, and ben, lunchtimes-in-the-library ben who never outgrew his love of reading, nerding out over shit that the others don’t really know about. bill telling patty all about what stan was like as a kid in that way only bill can, richie chiming in with crude comments sometimes but noticeably keeping quieter than usual, and patty returning the favour, telling them about the last 27 years, and not even richie makes a single joke when everyone tears up (because he’s tearing up the most). stan sitting there the whole time not even bothering to point out that he’s right there because it’s enough for him to see the romantic love of his life and the platonic loves of his life bonding, and yeah, maybe it was worth sticking around for.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

i don’t know if this is unpopular but patty pegs. that’s all.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

more patty. let me see my wife.

#eddiekissbrak #migz this has literally taken me hours i hope ur happy #i can't remember if the book specifies what patty teaches so i'm taking some liberties because i don't care what stephen king has to say #kinda went off the shits with patty there rip #i'm also like. not good with thoughts or with words so im sorry if this is underwhelming dgfhjsk

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trashcanmarvelfan · 5 years

Text

Best. Job. Ever. 7/12

Summary: Reader gets a job on the set of Spider-Man: Far from Home for the 3 weeks they are shooting in New York City as what she thinks is a production assistant, but a twist of fate has her reassigned as Tom Holland’s personal assistant. As she & Tom grow close during filming, will their budding friendship turn to more or will they go their separate ways after filming concludes?

Warnings: Language, but that’s pretty much it? This is basically a PG-13 rom-com. (Legal) alcohol use as well but since it’s legal do I really need to tag it?

Word Count: 2255 for chapter 7.

Author’s Note: As this was written WAY before Spider-Man: Far from Home was released (actually before Avengers: Endgame was as well) I’ve kept plot details and which scene was being shot on what day extremely vague. Also, I’m American but tried to write Tom as British as possible, although I do think he’d try to stay(ish) in character and use as much American slang as he could while he’s still playing Peter.

Chapter-Specific Author’s Note: None?

Requests are always open!

Cross-posted at AO3.

The next morning Y/N knocked on Tom’s door after making her usual coffee run and was looking at her phone when the door swung open. “Hey, you...” She paused as she looked up into ice-blue eyes. “...are most definitely not Tom.” She glanced at the room number again just to make sure that in her non-caffeinated state she hadn’t accidentally knocked on the wrong door. Nope, right room.

The guy grinned as he eyed her up and down. He ran a hand through his dark, curly hair. “No, darling, I’m not, but in this case I certainly wouldn’t mind the confusion,” he said in a crisp British accent.

Y/N blushed. Ah, this must be Harrison. Damn, are ALL British guys total hotties? She was starting to regret not googling him when she had the chance, thinking at the time that doing so would've been kinda creepy and stalker-ish. At least she would've known what he looked like.

Tom appeared behind him. “Hey, there you are. Come on in.”

The guy that Y/N presumed was Harrison stepped from the doorway and gestured for Y/N to enter.

Tom put a gentle hand on Y/N’s back as he introduced them. “Haz, this is Y/N, my assistant while I'm filming in New York. Y/N, this is my best friend, Harrison.”

“Ahh, so you're Y/N,” Harrison said knowingly. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Y/N glanced at Tom curiously before shaking Harrison’s hand. “Nice to meet you too,” she said, missing the glare that Tom shot Harrison in the process.

She handed Tom his coffee before turning to Harrison. “I didn't know you'd be around this morning, otherwise I could've also got you a coffee.”

Harrison laughed. “Thanks, love, but I can fetch my own coffee. I'm not a diva like this one.” He gestured towards Tom jokingly as he grabbed the to-go cup that was already on the desk.

Y/N laughed as well. “I honestly don't mind getting Tom's coffee in the morning and dinner at night. I'm already getting stuff for myself anyway, so it's nothing just to order extra.”

“And she does it all without complaint,” Tom joked. “Careful Haz, you might be permanently replaced as my best friend and assistant.”

Harrison pretended to be hurt. “I’m wounded. After all I’ve done for you and after all our years of friendship, you’re willing to just replace me like that? It’s because she’s prettier than me, isn’t it?”

Tom pretended to think for a second, then shrugged. “Basically, yeah.”

Harrison gently punched Tom in the shoulder. “That’s cold, mate.”

Y/N laughed. “While I’m flattered, I don’t think I could ever really replace you. The bromance is way too strong.” She grinned as her phone chimed with a text. “James is here. Ready to go? Need me to grab anything?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you yet -- Haz is going to come join us on set today,” Tom said. “I've already got it arranged.”

“Oh, ok, that's cool. You guys ready to go then?”

They all headed towards the elevator and as they were waiting for it to arrive, Y/N turned to Harrison. “While Tom’s busy filming we can swap all of our horror stories about how much of a nightmare it is to be his P.A.” She playfully nudged Tom.

“Aww, Y/N, not you too,” Tom groaned as the elevator doors opened and they stepped in. “I knew it was a bad idea to get the two of you together.”

Y/N turned and gave Harrison a high-five as the doors closed.

Harrison nodded approvingly. “I like this one.”

They made their way downstairs and to the waiting car. “Morning Mr. Holland, Miss Y/L/N,” he greeted.

“Morning, James,” Y/N replied.

“Sorry we're late,” Tom chimed in. “We've got an extra passenger today. This is my best friend, Harrison Osterfield. He’s in town for the weekend.”

James shook Harrison's hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise,” Harrison replied. “Shall we?”

Y/N climbed into the car, followed by Tom, then Harrison.

Y/N mostly kept quiet during the ride, letting Tom and Harrison talk and catch up, until her phone chimed with an email alert.

“Ok, hmm,” Y/N said, looking at the revised schedule she had just been sent. “Because of Wednesday’s and today’s schedules getting swapped due to the rain on Wednesday causing continuity errors and not being able to film outside, it looks like it won’t be as crazy tight of a day as originally planned. So instead of having to run straight to hair & makeup as soon as we arrive on set you guys should have about 45 minutes to relax in your trailer while I get your croissant. But the even better news is that you should be done around 3 pm instead of 9, so you guys will have plenty of time to hang out tonight.”

“Awesome,” Harrison said as they pulled up to the set.

They all climbed out, thanking James and wishing him good day.

“So I’m gonna go grab your breakfast from craft services, Tom, and meet you guys back at your trailer if that’s okay. Harrison, you want anything? Croissant? Bagel? Toast?”

“I’ll take some toast if you don’t mind,” Harrison replied.

Y/N nodded. “Ok, I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

She turned in the opposite direction of the trailers to head to craft services, greeting various cast and crew members as she walked.

She grabbed a pastry box and placed a few croissants and a couple of pieces of toast inside.

She made her way back to Tom’s trailer and knocked before poking her head inside. “Hey, guys, I have your breakfast.” She entered and set the box down on the table, taking a few mini jars of jam out of her pockets and setting them down as well. “Harrison, I didn’t know if you wanted jam or not with your toast so I went ahead and grabbed a couple of different kinds just in case, along with some butter.” She grabbed a croissant for herself before having a seat next to Tom.

“You, darling, are an absolute peach,” Harrison said, biting into his toast.

“She is pretty great, isn’t she?” Tom agreed, slinging his arm around Y/N and giving her a quick squeeze.

Y/N shrugged. “Thanks. I try.”

“So, Y/N, tell me about yourself,” Harrison said.

“Oh, um, well…” Y/N gave Harrison the same basic background information that she had given Tom upon their initial meeting. “So, you two met… at school?” she asked.

“Yeah, we met at school and hit it off straightaway, became best friends,” Harrison said.

“Flatmates, too, for a bit,” Tom added.

They chatted until it was time for Tom to go to hair and makeup. Harrison went with Tom to say hello to everyone while Y/N made her way to set to see if anything needed to be done before Tom began his filming for the day.

After lunch Y/N had been talking with one of the production assistants when Tom and Harrison walked up, joined by Jacob, who was flying out to California for the weekend after they filmed the final scene of the day.

“Hey guys,” Y/N said as Jon called for everyone to get in their places. “Ready to get back to it?”

Y/N and Harrison stood to the side as Tom and Jacob took their marks, Jon calling action on the background extras, then action on Tom and Jacob.

Tom and Jacob ran through the scene several times but Jon wasn't quite happy with it. After the fourth time of Jon calling cut, he told everyone to take five. “Hang on, something’s not right,” he muttered. He thought a moment. “I think we need a few more extras.” He pointed at Y/N and Harrison, who were talking with Tom and Jacob. “You two. I need you in this scene.”

Y/N's eyes widened. She pointed to herself. “Us?”

Jon nodded. “I need you two to walk across the background of this shot towards the cafe’. Act… couple-y.”

As he turned to call for hair and makeup, Y/N turned back towards Tom and Harrison.

“Well, this is an interesting development,” Harrison said cheekily, slinging an arm around Y/N's shoulder.

“Yeah, I wasn't expecting to suddenly be in the movie, even as an extra with no lines and only a couple of seconds of screentime,” Y/N joked. “If this even makes it into the final cut.”

The stylist came by and dusted the same translucent powder she used on Tom on both Y/N and Harrison's faces and gave Y/N a brighter shade of lipstick before declaring them camera-ready.

“Ok, Y/N, Harrison, you're going to cross behind Tom and Jacob as they're walking down the street,” Jon called out, settling back into his chair. “I'll cue you.”

Everyone got into their places and he called for quiet on the set.

“And… action!”

Tom and Jacob walked down the street, reciting their lines.

Harrison turned to Y/N. “Ready for your big debut?” he joked.

“As I'll ever be,” Y/N replied nervously.

Harrison squeezed her hand reassuringly. “You'll do fine.”

“And, cue Harrison and Y/N!” came Jon's voice.

Y/N and Harrison walked across the street to the coffee shop, Harrison's arm around Y/N's shoulder as she snuggled into his side, her hand on his and their fingers linked.

“Cut! That's exactly what we need, but let's do it one more time to make sure we've got it.”

They reset and this time when Jon called action, Harrison pulled Y/N closer as they stopped in front of the cafe’ and placed an affectionate kiss to the side of her head.

“Cut!” John checked the footage. “ Perfect. That's a wrap on today, everybody. Have a great weekend and I'll see you all on Monday.”

While Tom went to go change out of his wardrobe Harrison wandered off to go make a phone call, so Y/N decided to run to the coffee shop situated inside the bookstore on the corner of the street that they had been filming on. She signaled to Harrison to get his attention, pointed down the street, and mouthed, I'll be right back.

Harrison nodded. Ok, he mouthed back.

Coffee?

He nodded again. Thanks.

Y/N had gotten their coffee orders and was walking back with them when she saw Tom and Harrison talking.

Tom's face lit up as he spotted Y/N. “Y/N, there you are.”

“Hey, sorry. The line was longer than I thought it would be, probably since the cafe’ is closed today.” She handed Tom and Harrison their coffees and threw the carrier into a nearby recyclables container before taking a sip of her own coffee as they walked to meet up with James to head back to the hotel.

“So what’s up, guys?” she asked.

“Haz and I are planning on going out to a club tomorrow night,” Tom said.

“Oh ok, cool, have fun,” Y/N replied. “Which one? I’ll call ahead and reserve a VIP table for you.”

Tom shook his head. “Oh, no, that’s not necessary-- wait, actually, yes, that would be brilliant, thank you, but-- What I mean is, would you like to join us?”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised. “Are you sure? Harrison’s only in town for a few days, I wouldn’t want to interfere with boys’ night out or anything.”

“We'd love to have you come,” Harrison assured her. “It’ll be loads of fun.”

Y/N thought about it for a second before nodding. “Okay, then.”

“Brilliant,” Harrison said. “We’ll come ‘round to yours at what, 6 tomorrow night? That sound good?”

“Yeah, 6 is fine.”

Y/N called the club and left Tom’s name for the VIP list, making a table reservation as well before hanging up.

“Ok, we’re all set,” she said as James pulled up. They greeted James and loaded into the car.

They talked about dinner plans and agreed upon a sushi restaurant near the club for dinner beforehand.

The car pulled up to the hotel and they all headed towards the elevator, dropping Harrison off on his floor and heading up to the 10th.

“Are you sure it’s ok that I come with you guys?” Y/N asked Tom once they were alone.

“Yeah, it’s totally fine… unless you don’t want to?” Tom replied uncertainly.

“No, no… I mean I do, I just don't want to be a bother or a third wheel in case you guys want to be each other's wingman or something.”

“It’s not a bother at all,” Tom replied, giving her hand a squeeze as they stepped out of the elevator. “Honestly, I'd really like you to come out with me and Harrison tomorrow. He and I have all night tonight and all day tomorrow to hang out and I'd really like the two of you to get to know each other.” He grinned. “Besides, you have yet to experience New York nightlife and what better way than with two English blokes from London?”

Y/N smiled. “Okay, if you're totally sure.”

“Ok, then it's settled.” Tom grinned.

“I better go see what I brought that I can wear to the club so I can figure out if I have to go shopping tomorrow,” Y/N said, taking a step back towards her room. “See you later?”

Tom nodded. “See you, Y/N.”

#tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland rpf #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years

Text

Madness | Chpt. 12

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “The Less You Know”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 9,553

Warnings: ???

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: Harley reminds Eva of her lost companion. Tony reveals that he is aware of his connection to Eva and asks for a favor which will bring Eva back to a simpler time.

A/N: I’m definitely taking my creative liberties in this fic, so I hope it sits well with you all. I’m also sorry again for the long breaks between updates on this fic. I haven’t lost my drive or inspiration, but I’ve definitely lost a lot of free time in my life recently. I’ve picked up more hours at my job, college is kicking my ass, I’m also juggling other personal responsibilities, and I’m actually in the process of writing my first “serious” novel. I’m still shocked that so many of you are sending me private messages just checking in and giving me feedback on the fic. I’ve heard a lot of really good theories about what might happen next, so I’m definitely excited to hear what you guys think of the story going forward. I’ve poured my heart and soul into this fic, and all I can do is hope that it shows. You’re all so phenomenal. I love all of you so, so, so much <3 -Ellie

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny @xletmetaste-yoursmilex @itsknife2meetu @mynameisyara @j-j-ehlby-writes (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

“You can have the shack for the night,” Harley spoke softly as he opened the door of the shack for the two of us. He stepped aside to let us in and held the door until we were safely inside. Convincing Tony that it was a better idea to come back to the shack for the night and pick up the next day was a difficult feat, but I could feel his fatigue. We both knew he needed rest, but I couldn’t bring myself to confess that I was also feeling much more weary than I was before. It was as if I was growing weaker and weaker with every vision I experienced. The pain from the wound on my abdomen was becoming like background noise the majority of the time; it was always there, but I didn’t pay too much mind to it. There were moments, however, that the pain took over completely.

Once Tony and I settled ourselves onto the couch, Harley continued, “my mom should be home sometime soon, so try not to turn the lights on out here. It’s for the best she doesn’t know you’re here. Our space heater is broken, so it’s gonna get cold out here tonight. I’d give you two my bedroom, but that’s not much better, and you wouldn’t be hidden from my mom for long. I can go look for some blankets for you, though,” he stated, a hopeful look in his eyes. I knew that look. He didn’t want to disappoint us, and he was hoping to make up for “failing us” by keeping us out in the shack instead of bringing us into the home. I understood his predicament, and Tony’s silence reassured me that he understood the situation as well.

I offered Harley a warm smile, “thank you,” I murmured, glancing over at a sullen Tony, “and you can rest assured that I’ll keep Tony in check tonight. No parties, I promise,” I remarked in an attempt to lighten the mood before Harley laughed and ran off to find us some blankets to use throughout the night.

As soon as we were left alone, Tony’s deep brown eyes caught mine, “what happened earlier?” he asked, and I furrowed my eyebrows, not understanding what he was asking. Sensing my confusion, he clarified his previous question, “you freaked out and went outside. When you came back in here-before we went out into the town-it was like you saw a ghost. Then, when we were in the town, the same thing happened. Harley was starting to freak me out, and you just wandered away. You’re just acting...strange,” he recalled, his eyes flitting to the dark corners of the room as he spoke. The quirk showed up whenever he was embarrassed or reverted back to his most natural state: his shy and reserved self. He maintained eye contact when the moment was intense or when he was confident, but when he was vulnerable or felt inferior, he would only meet my eyes for a fleeting moment.

I cleared my throat, thinking of a way to tell him the truth without telling him everything. I couldn’t explain to him the extent of my conflict because he was too far out of the loop, and telling him would only taint his perception of me. I couldn’t tell him about the visions of my past or the hallucinations I was having that seemed so real but couldn’t be based in reality. If these visions were real, it would mean that I was the product of Death, that I was her offspring, and that was impossible. I cherished and fought for life in all its forms, so if I told Tony that I suspected the woman who birthed me was Death herself, it could cause a rift to form between us. It was bad enough when Thor and I came into the fold during the battle of New York. The only contact the majority of them had with Asgardians at that point was predominantly negative thanks to Loki, so we were less than welcome. Luckily, Steve-a man I thought I’d never see again-vouched for me. We were wildcards, though-Thor and I. What would happen if I told Tony about my past? What would that do to the trust that we built with each other? I couldn’t throw that away.

“What happened, Eva?” Tony asked, breaking my train of thought.

I locked eyes with him and searched for even the slightest hint of doubt, but I knew I would find none. When Tony put his faith in someone, he went all in. He trusted me to tell him the truth, but I couldn’t, so I gave him a version of the truth, “I just...I thought I saw something in the woods,” I replied, trying to be as vague as possible as to not lie to him.

He didn’t buy my statement, sensing that I was withholding something, “what’s really going on? Why did you really come here?” he asked, still puzzled about my intentions coming to Earth. Asgardians were not an “open book” people. We were more careful and closed off. Asgardians kept to themselves, so trust didn’t come easily, especially with those outside of their species. Humans were much more compassionate, and, in comparison, Asgardians seemed much more callous. I didn’t know how to tell him that he meant so much to me that I would leave my home behind to protect him, and I didn’t want to make him feel inadequate by insinuating that he couldn’t handle himself. If I told him that I couldn’t fulfill my destiny on Asgard, I would have to explain to him why, and that wasn’t a conversation I was able to have with an “outsider.”

Before I could even ponder my answer to his question, Harley saved me when he walked in the door, holding a blanket with a frown etched onto his lips, “this is the only extra blanket we have. I looked through the whole house, but...this is all I could find,” he said, a hint of guilt clear in his voice as if he were somehow at fault for there not being extra blankets. I opened my mouth to comfort him, but he continued before I had the chance, “if you need an extra one, you can have mine,” he trembled, the chill from having just been outside finally catching up to him. When he closed the space between the two of us, the moon shone onto his face just enough to light up his tear stained cheeks. He looked so distraught that he couldn’t find us another blanket, almost like he was failing us somehow.

I reached out for the blanket slowly, sensing his distress. In that moment, he reminded me of a frightened animal, almost as if he had been hurt before. He placed the blanket in my hand, and I pulled him toward me with a delicate grasp on his small hand. Once he stood directly in front of me, I saw him as I had seen her. Every time I looked at her, it was like I was seeing her for the first time, and that same phenomenon happened with Harley. I rested the blanket in my lap and held his small hands in mine, my thumbs running over his knuckles. My eyes searched his as I felt our souls intertwine. The moment was so intense that it made me want to cry. The pain of having felt it before and losing it only made my emotions that much more intense. There was no explanation for it, only that my soul must’ve known Harley’s from the moment the universe was created. It felt like we were long lost friends, like he was a piece of the puzzle of my life. As I searched his eyes, I saw that he felt the same inexplicable connection to me, too, and I knew I had to foster that in any way I knew how, “we’ll be fine with this one, Harley. Thank you for the kind gesture. You are a most gracious host,” I said in a soft voice filled with gratitude. His eyes flickered away from mine, and I watched as his bottom lip began to quiver. I gave his hands a gentle squeeze, his emotions pouring through them and into mine, “what’s wrong?” I asked, tilting my head.

He sniffled and pulled one of his hands away to wipe a stray tear from his cheek. His tear-filled eyes found mine once more, “I just...I want you to be happy. I want you to be happy it was this house you came to and not another one,” he trembled, fighting to hold the tears in, but I hoped he didn’t do it out of shame. I would’ve never passed judgement on someone for showing their pain, especially not a child. He continued, his voice cracking, “I don’t-I don’t want you to be disappointed in me,” he whimpered right before the tears began streaming freely down his cheeks.

“Oh, come here,” I pleaded, opening my arms as he held up his hands to keep me from seeing the tears. He was hesitant about accepting my embrace, but I could feel that it was because he didn’t want to make room in his heart for someone who could hurt him. I felt his pain like I felt hers-as if it were my own, as if I were feeling it for the both of us. Once he leaned in, I wasted no time in wrapping my arms around him and holding him the way he deserved to be held, the way every child deserved to be held. He nestled into my body, and I rubbed his back, holding him close to me, “you have no need to be ashamed, little one,” I murmured in a soft, gentle voice as I felt Tony’s eyes on us. The tears falling from Harley’s eyes began to dampen my shoulder where he rested his head. I held him for quite some time, desperately pulling as much of his pain into my own heart as I could. I would happily endure it for him. After enough time had passed in the silence, I spoke, “I am so happy to be here with you, and I’m so happy you were willing to let us stay with you. You took a chance on the two of us, and I will be forever grateful for that.”

“Look at me,” I urged him, pulling away just enough to tilt his head up and find his beautiful, teary blue eyes, “I am so happy I stumbled across this house because I got the chance to meet you and learn about you. You have a wonderful and magical mind, Harley, and I hope you can understand that my joy in being here doesn’t come down to how many spare blankets there are in your home. It doesn’t come down to the state of your house or how clean this shack is. It doesn’t come down to how well I’m going to sleep tonight, and it certainly won’t come down to how comfortable the cot is going to be. My joy is going to come from spending time with you and Tony. It’s going to come from protecting people and doing the right thing. Do you understand that?” I asked, wiping away the tears from his cheeks. Tony still sat silently beside me, but I knew it was because he didn’t want to ruin the moment I was having with Harley. Normally, Tony would try to lighten the mood with a hint of sarcasm or a joke, but he knew that it wasn’t the appropriate setting for him to do that with Harley, and I was thankful for his restraint.

Even when Harley nodded his head in understanding, I could still feel his heavy heart. As we sat in silence, I waited for his mind to clear up, waiting for his insecurity to diminish; however, it wasn’t long before I realized that it wasn’t going anywhere. My heart broke as I thought of who did the damage to this young child's heart. I pulled him close once more, and the moment I wrapped my arms around him, I felt him begin to relax. He nestled his head against my shoulder, and I brushed his hair back the same way my father always did to me, “close your eyes for a moment,” I urged him, still wanting to clear his mind. The only way to do that was to get him to look inward, to face the demons in his own mind in order for the two of us to fight them together, “now, picture the most peaceful, beautiful scene. What does it look like?” I asked, unable to leave him without calming the unrelenting pain in his heart.

I felt him tense in my arms, and I knew that he was struggling to build a place of tranquility in his mind that was too often filled with noise, “it’s you, me, and Kaia,” he answered, his body finally relaxing as his mind trailed away. My heart nearly leapt from my chest. Why me? Before I could have time to ponder it, he continued, painting me a picture unlike any other, almost like he had done this before...but not for himself-for someone else, “we’re in a forest far away from here. It’s summer, and the air is warm. It smells like the trees and overgrown grass. The sun is shining through the leaves, and Kaia’s hair looks like melted gold. There’s a small creek, and when the wind isn’t rustling the leaves, you can hear the water on the rocks. There’s nothing but woods as far as I can see. It’s just the three of us,” he said, his voice level where it had once been trembling. He was calm.

I closed my eyes and pictured the place he had described for me, and I created a world in my mind that would be the place for him to experience his dream in. I had so many questions that arose during his explanation of his peaceful scene, but it wasn’t my place to ask them. I made sure to create a world as beautiful as it could possibly be, a forest as close to his imagination as I could make it. Once it was done, I rested my hand against his head, and implanted the imaginary place into his mind, making sure that he would find peace while he slept. I brushed his hair back once more, feeling closer to whole than I had for quite some time, “you will sleep well tonight, and I will see you in the morning. Now, it’s time for you to go inside and rest, little one,” I murmured, basking in the warmth that his presence brought to me.

When he finally pulled away, his blue eyes found mine once more, “you’ll still be here?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty lingering in his eyes. I knew he was afraid that I would disappear into thin air or run away like his father, but I could never bring myself to abandon anyone else. Not like...her.

I nodded my head as I grasped his hands firmly, “I’m not going anywhere...I promise,” I insisted, my eyes flickering between his. As silence fell between us once more, I began to feel the trust and faith he was putting in me. It was as if Harley surrendered every ounce of trust over to me, but I couldn’t understand why he would do that. As he searched me for any sign of dishonesty, he realized that he would find none. As soon as he came to that conclusion, he threw his arms around me and held me tightly, as if I would fade away if he let go. During the time we held each other, I felt my soul bleeding into his, a connection that mirrored the one I had with her from the very moment I met her. I wondered if my soul had been pulling me here for more than just Tony, if I was meant to meet Harley, if I was meant to be destroyed once more.

After he pulled away from the hug, he walked out of the shack without another word, taking the warmth with him; however, there was a coal that was left burning, one that would keep me warm throughout the night. For the first time in so long, I felt like I was doing something right, like I was making some kind of difference. Tony cleared his throat, “you’re still good at that stuff. There’s a reason why the people here chose the nickname they did,” he snickered as his body trembled from the cold.

“We should probably head to bed. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow, and it looks like it’ll be a long night,” I murmured, steering the conversation in a completely different direction. Sensing that I didn’t want to talk about the topic he brought up, he nodded his head in agreement. I continued, “we should sleep in the cot together. I’d rather you not freeze to death.”

“You and me, both,” he chuckled, standing up from the couch and holding out his hand for me. I took it and rose to meet him before he led us over to the cot in the corner of the room. He gestured for me to sit next to him. I lowered myself down onto the cot next to him before pulling off the cloak he had given back to me when Harley offered us warmer attire. I knew how cold it was going to get throughout the night, and keeping him safe was my top priority in that moment. If he froze to death in the night, all of this would’ve been for nothing, and I would lose yet another person I cared about. He knew not to argue that I should keep it for myself because I was far more stubborn than him, and he would sooner move mountains than convince me that I shouldn’t protect him. He still had the faintest sadness in his eyes, almost as if he was undeserving or somehow unworthy of a kind gesture, “thank you,” he murmured as he draped the cloak over his shoulders and nestled into its warmth.

As soon as he moved to lay down in the bed, I followed his lead. We situated ourselves right next to each other, staring up at the ceiling together. He draped the blanket over the two of us, nestling beneath the warmth of that as well as the cloak. The blanket didn’t do much to keep out the cold, but there would never come a time when I would admit that to Harley. He was already distressed enough as it was. As we stared at the neglected ceiling above us, silence fell. I wondered for a moment what I would dream of that night-if I would dream of Loki’s face, if I would dream of her, if I would have another vision of Death, or if I would finally have a vision of my father-not Aaldir, but...whatever my father was called. A piece of me just wanted to dream of nothingness to quell the misery that came with the dreams and visions. I didn’t want to dream of Loki or her or Death or my father. I didn’t want to dream of Asgard or Midgard. I didn’t want to dream of the past, the present, or the future. I just wanted nothing, but at the same time, I wanted to visit Hjalmar in my dreams. I wanted to know if I was doing it right, if I was making the right decisions. Of all the people who walked in and out of my life, Hjalmar stayed by my side, fighting with me, fighting for me...dying for me.

Just as the sorrow over his death began to take over once more, Tony’s voice silenced it, “listen, I know you’re not big on talking about your problems, but you helped save the world back in New York. I just want you to know that if there’s anything I can do-listen, talk, distract you-I’m here. I know that I can’t offer much to an Asgardian, but all I can offer, I owe to you,” he explained, and I turned my head to argue that he didn’t owe me anything. He saw the fire in my eyes, the cinders that would never be extinguished. Before I could argue against his reasoning, he continued, “you saved my life in New York, so if you need someone to talk to, I’m all ears...along with a few spare parts, but you know what I mean,” he added, a grin spreading across his lips as he tried to lighten the mood. His dark, impossibly deep brown eyes, I noticed, sparkled under the light that shone in through the window.

It shocked me that he would even believe that he owed me anything, especially after all he had given me. I knew the life we led before we first “formally” met each other. I had kept an eye on him since the dawn of his existence, since the moment the sun rose on the day of his birth-a monumental occasion that I felt in my very soul. I knew the lifestyle he led before, engaging in drinks, parties, and social events. I knew that he loved the spotlight, and what I asked of him tore that all away, but he did it for me...for her. He owed me nothing, but I owed him all that I ever had and all that I ever would have. I shook my head in protest to his previous claim, “you owe me absolutely nothing, Tony. I owe you my life for what you did for me after the battle of New York. After you nearly sacrificed yourself to save a world that never fought for you, you took upon a responsibility that I will never be able you repay you for. You have done more than enough for me, so protecting you-saving you-is the very least I can do. I will not burden you with trivial matters after all you’ve already done,” I explained, searching his eyes, trying to make him understand how limitless my gratitude was for him.

Something clicked in his mind that arguing his case wouldn’t be beneficial, and that it would be counterproductive because I would fail to see how he was in my debt. It was very much the other way around, which he also failed to understand. Instead, he changed the subject, adjusting on the small cot to bring himself even closer to me, “you should visit sometime. You can see just how far she’s-”

I cut him off, “don’t,” I warned him, my eyes widening as the wave of emotions crashed against the wall I built to keep them from spilling over and overflowing. If I allowed myself to feel that particular loss, I would succumb to it, and that was dangerous. My grief would control my actions. I used my grief and sorrow to fuel my passion, which made me a worthy opponent in battle, but when I allowed my grief, sorrow, anger, or fear take control, it was dangerous for myself and the people I meant to protect in the first place. I had placed the “loss” of her into a section of my mind that I never visited. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have been alive to be in that very moment with Tony.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “what?” he asked, clearly confused as to why I wouldn’t want to hear about her after all that had transpired. It was the only time Tony saw through to my raw emotions, when I left her. It was clear that he was expecting me to be interested. I wasn’t.

“Don’t talk about her. I don’t want to know,” I warned him, “the only thing I want to know is if she’s safe. Aside from that, it’s no longer my concern,” I murmured, reinforcing the stone walls keeping back the dark emotions. The farther she could be from me, the safer she would become. While I wanted nothing more than to know what she was doing during every waking moment, I knew that it would only make it harder to move on and be away from her.

He furrowed his eyebrows, his face twisting with disbelief, “that’s a bit harsh...even for an Asgardian, and especially for you,” he exclaimed, the frustration clear in his voice. He would never understand the feeling of choosing. It was either my happiness or her safety, and I chose what I believed would be best for her. I needed to live with it, and that was something Tony couldn’t possibly understand. I couldn’t fault him for it, but I wished he could understand that it wasn’t in an attempt to be hard-hearted. I never knew a love so pure than the moment I met her, and the moment I gave that away was the single most devastating moment of my life thus far.

I felt my eyes begin to sting with the unshed tears. I cried so much during those first few weeks that it felt as if I had watered the forests of Asgard. I gazed up at Tony, trying to push the feelings back far enough that I wouldn’t lose control, “the less I know, the easier it is to stay away. Never think for even a moment that I don’t care. I want, more than anything else, to be here with her, to be a part of her life, to teach her, to hold her, to guide her, to love her. However, my presence in her life would put her in even more danger than she’s already in right now. I won’t do that. I would never do that,” I explained, sighing as I gazed back up at the ceiling, willing myself to think of anything else. The tears were coming quickly, and I couldn’t let them fall for fear that they would never stop, that I would somehow drown the world with them. I needed to remember why I was on Midgard in the first place, to help Tony-not the other way around.

He remained quiet for a long moment, pondering the meaning behind my words. I knew how confusing it must’ve been for him. It didn’t make much sense to someone “on the outside,” how her life could possibly be in danger, but I knew the risks, I weighed them all, and I had made my decision. Knowing that I wasn’t going to explain the details to him, he gazed back over at me, our eyes bleeding into each other’s. For a moment, I lost myself in the depth of them, drowning in their beauty and pain, “you’re far too good for this, Eva, for everything you’ve been through,” he commented, his voice soft, every word sliding off his lips like a waterfall of velvet. He and I were bound together by an unseen thread. I viewed him as one of my own since the moment we met, long before he could even remember. I loved him as if he were my blood, and I watched over him as if he were one of my offspring.

I snickered at his words, “it’s funny to hear that from you, a man who cannot see the goodness in himself,” I stated, my voice softening as I made my point.

He shook his head, “I’ve done a lot in my life that I’m not proud of, a lot that you don’t know about,” he assumed, completely wrong. I had watched over him since the beginning, pestering Heimdall constantly for information about how he was doing as well as three other humans I had met years prior to Tony’s birth, one of whom died shortly after-a death I could never forgive myself for, blaming myself for not seeing it coming and being there to prevent it. I knew all that Tony had done; the best, the worst, and everything in between.

For a moment, I wondered if he was truly too blind to see how vital he was to everyone around him, how much of a hero he was to the world, “that’s what you fail to see, Tony. The people who care about you-who love you-they don’t just want the moments you’re proud of. They want to see the moments you fall because your willingness to get back up inspires them. It inspires me,” I explained, reaching down between us and grasping his hand in my own, wondering what it would take for him to understand just how much he was loved and cherished.

“No one wants that,” he argued, pulling his hand away. I saw the frustration in his eyes before he looked up at the ceiling, “they want someone like you. I remember the orphanage, Eva. The people want someone who never falls, someone who can withstand the storm and help rebuild. People don’t love Tony, they love Iron Man; he’s everyone’s hero,” he ranted, irritation seeping into every word as he spoke.

My eyes widened as I thought of the orphanage. I had tried to push it back as far as possible for as long as I could. I tried not to think about the battle of New York, but when I did, the majority of my thoughts were clouded with images of Loki. I tried not to think about the orphanage, but the moment Tony mentioned it, I remembered those hazel eyes. Knowing that I couldn’t dwell on it, I pushed it aside, “I fell at the orphanage, Tony, but like you, I picked myself back up and focused on the task at hand to prevent even more chaos,” I explained, referencing the countless times he did the same thing. When he was faced with fear, when the odds were stacked against him, he looked the fear and adversity right in the eyes and pushed back against it with all he had. When he fell, he pushed himself back up, dusted himself off, and fought harder than ever before. We both idolized each other, but both of us failed to see our own greatness, both believing that we deserved no kindness, generosity, or gratitude.

I sighed, seeing that he was still unconvinced, “I come from a place where our technology is far more advanced than many Midgardians have even managed to dream of, but you’re still one of the smartest people I’ve ever known; however, you are so ignorant to your importance in everyone else’s life. You think yourself to be expendable to the ones who love you, to the ones who would be lost without you. You believe everyone would be better off without you, that you are simply a weight that’s holding them down. You think you’re damaged, like you need to be fixed, but those pieces are what make you shine like the sun. Those pieces that you believe to be broken are what make you one of the most beautiful souls I’ve ever encountered in my lifetime,” I insisted, wanting him to see that my words were built upon a foundation of truth. I grasped his chin and turned his head until our eyes met once more, “I just wish you could borrow my eyes, even if only for a moment, so that you could see yourself the way I see you,” I murmured, cupping his cheek with my hand as I stroked the smooth skin beneath my fingertips.

We laid together in complete silence, our eyes navigating each other like ships lost at sea, desperately trying to find their way home. The look in his eyes when I finished my rant was one of disbelief, as if he couldn’t understand why I would see him as something far more beautiful than he saw himself. For a man who longed for acceptance, he also longed for them to despise him just as much-if not more-than he already despised himself. He felt he deserved it. While he was surprised by my words to him, the look in his eyes was still the same: unconvinced. I frowned, feeling the hot tears of shame rise to my eyes. If there was a way to convince him of his goodness, I would find it, but until then, I was left in desperation. I sat up in the bed, eager for a moment to catch my breath and be alone with the silence for a moment. Before I stood up from the cot, though, I gazed back down at him, “for the record, I love Tony Stark; he’s my hero,” I insisted, standing up and finding my way outside.

I knew that Harley wanted us to keep a low profile, but there was no sign of his mother just yet. The moment I felt her presence, I would be sure to find my way back inside the shack, not wanting to get him into any trouble. As I watched the snow fall around me, I found myself recalling the memory I wanted to give away so badly. My mind betrayed me time and time again, and one of the many memories I wished to forget was pulled to the surface: the orphanage. When I closed my eyes, all I could see were hers. The little girl with eyes bluer than all the oceans in all the nine realms. They were sad eyes that had a glimmer of hope. I didn’t know her name, but I knew her face, and I knew those eyes almost as if we had encountered each other in another lifetime, as if we would encounter each other once more. She was dainty, young, innocent...precious.

After my body healed itself from the encounter with Loki, I left him to fight with the other Avengers on the ground. My job had been to contain the threat, to draw the Chitauri out of the buildings where the Midgardians who couldn’t run from the city were finding shelter. When I had reached the orphanage, attempting to stop a group of them, I came to a room with 10 Chitauri surrounding dozens of children. Upon entering the room, the Chitauri scrambled to grab the defenseless children, ready and willing to use them as shields against me. That was when my eyes caught those of the little girl. She looked at me like a hero, like I was there to rescue her and only her. Tears welled up in her eyes as the fear rose within her, and I desperately tried to figure out a way to diffuse the situation. The only way I could think of was to surrender, to let them take me hostage and hope that my team would find a way to free me, or the Chitauri would just kill me instead. Either way, it would’ve been better than letting them massacre the children.

However, the moment I raised my hands to surrender, they took it as a threat, and they began killing the children, starting with that little girl. Then, everything escaped me. I couldn’t remember anything between that moment and the moment I found myself on the floor with her body in my arms. Chitauri blood covered my suit, my hands, my sword. It was splattered throughout the room, mixed with the blood of the children they killed. It was one of the few moments in all my life that I felt pure and unbridled hatred. A piece of me knew that I did everything in my power to save them all, but another part of me shattered at the thought of lives lost. Little lives. Those children never knew love, and I was convinced that I could’ve somehow taken them all back to Asgard with me and shown them all the love in the world...if I hadn’t failed them. I had sat in all the carnage of the orphanage until Tony found me holding onto the body of the little girl. He didn’t see me cry, but I did. He didn’t see me fall apart, but I did. He didn’t see the nightmares I had, but I had them. He didn’t know about the guilt I felt, but I felt it.

I remembered the orphanage.

“What are you thinking about?” I heard his voice from behind me, pulling me from the horrific scenes playing in my mind. I jumped at the sound of his voice, startled by his presence. It wasn’t often that someone could sneak up on me. Loki had been able to do it for a while, but that was before I learned to see through his illusions. Tony took his place next to me as we watched the snow fall together.

Closing my eyes, I found all the strength I needed from the world below my feet. Her energy coursed through my veins, and I found myself wondering what I had ever done to deserve her mercy and understanding. She connected with me and placed a sturdy foundation beneath me to help me find my balance. As tears stung my eyes, I continued to gaze out at the snow, not wanting Tony to see me so vulnerable and weak, “there’s not a day that goes by when I don’t think of the ones I failed-the bloodshed, the pain, the loss. I fall asleep and dream of their faces. I know that given the choice between compassion and apathy, I would always choose the former. However, I know how painful compassion can be for the person giving it, how much guilt comes with failing those you wish to help. I know how much compassion you hold in your heart, Tony. You would take on any amount of danger-sacrifice yourself-to save someone else. You see the goodness in everyone else around you, but you fail to see it in yourself. I don’t understand that,” I explained, feeling hopeless that he would ever truly understand how important and wonderful he was.

He snickered to himself, somehow amused by my words, “you’ve done the same since the day I met you, Eva. You should understand it better than anyone,” he reminded me, clearly surprised that I wasn’t more sympathetic to his situation. As soon as I opened my mouth to argue my point, he continued, “I have never heard you speak a kind word about yourself, but I think the world of you. You’re upset that I have a certain level of self-loathe that I think is completely justified, but you’ve always been harsh when you talk about yourself,” he explained with a sigh, almost as if saying the words wore him out.

I glanced over at him for a moment, taking in the beauty and honesty in his eyes. I could see how much distress my actions caused, and I knew that in order to ask for him to be kinder to himself, I had to show him that I was also willing to do the same. I nodded my head, agreeing with his statement, as I gazed back out at the woods and watched the snow fall, “I loved myself at one point, though. I treated her well and spoke kind words to her. I had a love who whispered words of love directly to my broken heart. I had a man who took me into his home and raised me as if I was one of his own. I had a brother who loved me the way everyone deserves to be loved at least once in their lives-completely and without hesitation. Even when I lost everything, when I thought the goodness in my life had disappeared, I met her,” I said, recalling one of the most joyous moments of my life that occurred so soon after my entire world crashed down around me.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I felt a few slip down my cheeks as I thought of her, as I thought of the unbridled love I felt for her. After Loki’s fall, I was certain that I had nothing left to live for, that there would be no purpose for me to serve. He took all the light and love from my life when he fell from the Rainbow Bridge, but meeting her...I felt my soul being stitched back together. She breathed life back into me, and I realized that, while Loki would always be my eternal love, she was my person. My bottom lip quivered as I swallowed the tears back, “then, I abandoned her just as my love abandoned me,” I noted, glancing over at Tony and feeling that glimmer of rage I held deep down within the very pit of my stomach, “I’ve failed the people in my life, and in turn, I have failed myself. I deserve no kind words, especially not from myself. In a perfect world-in a perfect life-I would’ve done right by all of them, and he would still be mine. I would have protected him even more than I did, and I would’ve rather seen myself put to death than watch him fall the way he did. In a perfect life, he would be happy, free, accepted. That was all I ever wanted for him, and I believed all the rest would fall into place, but I was wrong. I gave him all I could, but I hadn’t anticipated what others could take from him. By tearing him apart, they did the same to me,” I ranted, feeling the heat course through my body as the wound on my abdomen began throbbing once more. A searing pain shot through my body, and I gritted my teeth to keep it from overcoming me completely.

“Who was he?” Tony asked, his voice soft and curious.

The moment he asked the question, the rage began to die away as I thought of the centuries we spent together, the endless and eternal love we shared, the freedom we felt with each other. I thought of our future family, the...children we spoke of. I thought of the days and nights we spent in the forest next to the tree, gazing up at the sky through the branches and leaves. We would be curled up together, molding our bodies back together to form the one soul our two bodies were created from. Loki would sing to me often, his like velvet against my skin. If I was upset, he would wrap his arms around me and sway back and forth with me, holding me like I was the very essence of his existence. As I thought of my most sacred memories, the anger and rage died away, but it still lived within me like a dull ache as I thought of a love lost and the pain he endured. I glanced back over at Tony, “search your heart, and you’ll find that you already know the answer to that question,” I insisted before watching the memories flit across his face.

“Loki,” he answered confidently but gently. He hadn’t given much thought to his response, almost as if he had always known, “I never pegged you to be into the bad boys,” he teased with a smile in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.

“If you knew him for as long as I have...if you knew him the way I have, you’d see a different side of him. You’d see how passionate and caring he is,” I stated, tears filling my eyes once more as I thought of the memories we made, as I wondered if we would ever make anymore, “I’ve known him all my life, and in the beginning, he was nothing like what you saw in New York. He was always kind-hearted and sensitive. He had so much empathy when it came to everyone else, but they didn’t have that kind of patience and kindness for him. People abused him, hurt him in ways I couldn’t protect him from, cast him away because he was different. He wasn’t Thor, and that’s what people expected of him. His own father, our king, never appreciated Loki. He had only a handful of people who showed him love, understanding, kindness, and compassion, people who fought for him. I was one of them. I will always be one of them because the man I love is still in there beneath all the rubble, and it’s my responsibility to free him.”

“You really miss him,” Tony murmured, his voice light, almost as if he didn’t want to disturb the silence and peace that I so desperately needed. I didn’t want to drown in it, though, not after what happened last time.

I nodded my head, wiping the tears from my cheeks as the heat rose once more. The image that flashed before my eyes was one of the man who stole it all away from me, and I tried my best to bury it as quickly as possible. I learned early in my life that any extreme emotion, including endless and eternal love, was dangerous for those around me, people who I loved and cared about. Suppressing those emotions was the only way to retain control. I couldn’t risk the alternative. I glared out into the frozen forest, “my heart is locked in the dungeons beneath Asgard. Thanos took everything from me when he corrupted my beloved, turned him away from me, and stole the very soul from within me. I will watch as he burns for what he has done,” I growled, feeling the heat within my body. Every time I felt fury or an incomprehensible level of rage, a fire-that felt as if it rivaled the heat and energy of a star-coursed through my veins.

I clenched my fists, trying to focus on anything else, but the anger wasn’t going away. I couldn’t feel so deeply with Tony so close. I couldn’t even bring myself to imagine the consequences of losing control in his general vicinity. In a desperate attempt to stop the fire, I gripped my abdomen, the mere touch of my fingers sending a surge of pain through my body that stemmed from the wound on my abdomen. I winced at the excruciating pain, but I also breathed a soft sigh of relief that I managed to gain my control once more. I closed my eyes, seeing the face of the man I first saw when I searched Loki’s mind on our way back to Asgard. I wanted to know who had done this to him, and I saw him. The Mad Titan. I gritted my teeth as I focused on the pain instead of the anger, “Thanos will know that he should have run while he had the chance because when I find him, he will understand that there has never been a fury as great as mine. He will beg for his life on his knees, but just as he did to Loki, I will grant him no mercy. I will be the one to deliver him to death herself, and if that means I meet her as well, so be it,” I hissed, knowing that I would gladly meet my end if it meant that it would have my vengeance.

“I’ve never heard you talk like that...ever...about anyone,” Tony murmured, shocked at my words. In the time we had known each other, Tony found solace in my peaceful nature. The love and compassion came naturally to me, but there was a darker side to me that I disowned, a part of myself that terrified me. She didn’t come around often, but when the ones she loved were hurt or taken from her, her imagination was endless when it came to the ways someone could suffer. She wanted to tear them apart, to hurt them the way they hurt her and her loved ones. She was a force to be reckoned with. She was the embodiment of madness, rage, fury, fear, and death. She was the opposite of everything I believed in and treasured. She was the human embodiment of everything I fought so hard against, but I knew why she was there. She was there to preserve life in a way I couldn’t. She did what needed to be done to bring about justice and peace. She wasn’t afraid of getting her hands dirty in situations that couldn’t be resolved with words. Tony had never seen her, so he was right to be disturbed by her sudden appearance, “who is Thanos?” he asked, still visibly shaken.

I cleared my throat, “a long story for another time,” I answered, finally pushing her back into the darkness and locking her away until she was needed.

Sensing that I didn’t want to talk about Thanos or Loki anymore, Tony changed the subject, “you knew my father,” he claimed, making a rather bold statement out of the blue. My eyes widened as the utter disbelief washed over me. I opened my mouth to deny the claim, but I felt like a fish out of water. The mere mention of his father felt like he punched me in the chest, but I never could have anticipated that Tony would find out about that companionship. Before I could find a way to lead him away from the truth without directly lying to him-something I couldn’t do-Tony continued, “I found a few of his journals, and he wrote about you...extensively. He had pictures of the two of you, pictures of just you, pages upon pages upon pages of what you wore, the way you wore your hair, your favorite things. You knew him,” he claimed once more.

I sighed, knowing that there was no way for me to deny what he was saying. It wouldn’t have made much sense to lie when Tony had seen pictures of me with his father. I chewed on my bottom lip, turning my entire body to face him, “Howard was a good man. I know that he had his faults, but he was also one of the most incredible people I have ever known. The way he hurt you, though,” I frowned, reaching up to stroke Tony’s cheek. He winced just as he always did, but he made a conscious effort to let his guard down when we were together. Still, I could sense his anxiety when people raised their hands at him because he had known angry hands far more often than hands that would show love and gentleness, “I can never forgive him for that. In the time I knew him, though, he always fought for what he thought was right, and I can't fault him for that. He was just as human as anyone else, and just like with you, there were some demons I couldn’t save him from,” I murmured, tears welling up in my eyes once more as I thought of my late friend.

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed, “why didn't you tell me?” he asked, confused as to why I would keep my friendship with his father a secret, why I wouldn’t open up and explain to Tony that our connection began before he was even born, before Howard even met Maria.

I snickered, trying to find a lightness in such a heavy conversation, “I didn’t want to age myself,” I smiled, recalling a time when Howard said the same thing to me. Once he had discovered my true origins and understood that I had been around for over a millenia, he was slightly embarrassed by the comment. Still, even after I told him about being from another realm, he treated me no differently than when we first met each other. He was still one of my closest friends, and he was still just as curious about my history. There never came a time when he treated me like an experiment or an outsider, and I loved him for that. Tony’s eyes were still glazed over, still questioning my reasons for not disclosing that piece of information, “the honest reason why I didn’t tell you was because I didn’t want to upset you. My relationship with your father has nothing to do with my relationship with you. It doesn’t define our relationship, and it would never alter the way I feel about you. He was the first human I ever had a true connection with, the first human who ever understood me on a fundamental level. He understood why I sacrificed for something greater than myself. He understood why I would die to protect someone I didn’t even know. He understood me, and I understood him. I know that your relationship with him was difficult, and I didn’t want to glorify the man he was because I know how much he hurt you,” I explained, upset by the choices of my late friend.

Tony’s eyes met mine, sparkling with a hope that was rarely present when he spoke about his father. Usually, there was frustration, humiliation, and a bit of contempt. When our eyes locked in that moment, though, I saw him for the first time. He wasn’t the businessman, the showman, the engineer, the hero. He was the man who missed his father, the man who was looking for answers, the man who never had a chance to get to know his father. He blinked back the tears in his brown eyes, letting out a long breath, “how did you know him? What...what was he like?” he asked.

I cleared my throat, staring down at the snow beneath me. Tony didn’t want to hear about the man his father was while he was alive. He wanted the stories of his father when we first met, when Howard was still in his prime. He wanted to get to know his father through me because Howard was cold as he saw more and more of the world. I wished I had been able to save him from witnessing the violence and despair. I would’ve done everything in my power to keep him the way he was when we first met just so that Tony could know his father the way I knew him. I would’ve protected Howard, and in that way, I would’ve protected Tony. I frowned to myself, “we should go inside before you freeze to death out here,” I stated, trying to change the subject. Thinking about Howard always upset me for so many reasons. I missed him, but I had been mourning my friend long before his passing.

Tony hesitated, not wanting to drop it, especially when he was so close to having some answers. His eyes scanned my face and body before he nodded, knowing that it was for the best if we made our way back into the shack. The cold nipped at my skin as we walked back into the shack. I cast one last look into the window of the small home to see Harley curled up on the couch, hugging his knees to his chest as he drifted off to sleep. I smiled to myself before stepping into the shack and closing the door behind me. Tony and I made our way back over to the cot, and he motioned for me to take my place on it first. When I finally situated myself, he crawled into bed next to me, our bodies so close to one another that I felt his warmth against my skin without him even touching me. Our eyes locked, and I knew that he had no intention of sleeping until he had answers, “tell me about him...please,” he pleaded with so much desperation in his voice.

I nodded, preparing myself to remember some of the most vulnerable moments of my life. I would remember a time before love hurt me, before love was taken from me. I would remember a time when I saw all the gentleness and kindness I needed in the eyes of a Midgardian, a tenderness that died within him with time. I would remember my ventures to Midgard with my beloved by my side every step away. I would remember the dancing, the promises, the late nights, the love, the laughter, the midnight talks, and how young we made each other feel, as if we hadn’t already lived for a millenia. I would remember the walks through the city when it was still young. I would remember the way Loki would snake his arm around my waist and pull me close to him when there was a chill in the air. I would remember the way he walked closest to the street to keep me away from the traffic, it made me feel safe and made him feel important. I would remember the way he walked in stride with me, never ahead of me, never behind me. I would remember how he slipped his slender arms from his jacket to drape it over my shoulders when a chill would cause me to shiver. I would remember how he always looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time, how we loved like it was the first moment we knew we loved each other.

I would remember the moments that turned my heart into stone.

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