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lacontroller1991 · 2 years

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The Other Stevens: Chapter 6

Main Master List The Other Stevens Master List

Chapter 5

Warnings: age gap relationship, drinking, drunk Gordo, arguing, slut shaming, a lil rough man handling, Gordo breaks our hearts, language

Word Count: 2.7k

Author's Note: I apologize in advance for this chapter

==========

You toss the ball against the wall again, watching it bounce back to you as you look over to the clock on Gordo’s night stand. 11:29. He said 10, didn’t he? You’ve been waiting for an hour and a half but your lover is nowhere to be found, even his car was missing from the driveway. A pair of jiggling keys perks your head up as you stand up, wanting to go and greet Gordo, but a second pair of footsteps stops you.

“Shit,” Gordo chuckles, stumbling through the hall as you let out a sigh in relief. Ok, so he’s not dead, just drunk, but who is he with? Your stomach drops at the possibility that he may have brought home a girl, after all that is what he’s known for. The thought makes you scurry to his closet, closing the door in front of you as you try your hardest to listen to the conversation, your palms sweaty. He wouldn’t do that… would he?

“Alright buddy, just get some sleep,” you exhale the breath you didn’t know you were holding upon hearing Ed’s voice. Ok, so he didn’t bring a girl home, he brought Ed home.

“Thanks Ed.”

“Any time,” you hear a door shut and a weight falling onto the bed, shoes clunking to the floor. Collecting your nerves, you slightly open the door and pop your head out, seeing his slumped over frame.

“Gordo?” He jumps and looks over at you in confusion.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here? In my closet?”

“We were supposed to… um… supposed to have a date.” You exit the closet as he scoffs and shakes his head in denial.

“A date? What are you talking about? We’re just fucking. Nothing special about that,” he comments causing you to clench your jaw. Have you been getting this whole thing wrong?

“But I thought-”

“You thought what? That I would date somebody my own son’s age? What are you really here for? Money? What are you trying to play at?”

“Gordo, I- I thought we wanted to give things a try between us. It’s what we agreed on?”

“Well I don’t anymore. I miss my wife. I want Tracy back and you could never be a replacement for her. You’re just a slut. So why don’t you just leave,” he stands above you causing you to cower into yourself, tears welling in your eyes. He doesn’t mean all of that, does he?

“Gordo, please, I-” the words choke in your throat, words you’ve been wanting to say but never found a good time.

“I told you to fucking get out,” he grips your arm rougly and guides you to the door before shoving you out and shutting the door in your face, causing you to fall to the floor, tears streaming down your face as a sob rips through your throat, the note you had intended on giving him burning holes in your pocket.

“(Y/N)? Hell are you doing here?” You look up and see Danny standing in the doorway. Great, just great. You shakily stand to your feet and wipe away the tears.

“Your dad is a fucking asshole,” you comment briefly before shoving past him and out of the house, with no intention of ever going back inside again.

Danny furrows his brows in confusion. Just what is going on? Looking down at where you were sitting, he notices a piece of paper. Cocking his head, he leans down to pick it up, unfolding the letter and reading over the words.

‘To my own personal hero,

I didn’t plan on saying what I’m about to say on a piece of paper, but I’m a coward and I also thought maybe you would like to keep this letter if you ever felt down and I wasn’t around to cheer you up. So… here it is.

Gordon Stevens, ever since I could remember I had always looked up to you and your career in awe. Ever since I was a kid, you were my hero. And then I grew up and moved to Seabrook, attending high school where I met Danny and Jimmy and damn, they were so nice to me and when they invited me over for the first time, I had no clue that they were your kids. I guess I should have figured that one out, but when you first walked out of the house on the Saturday afternoon, I almost died. I could not believe that I was about to meet one of my personal heroes, pretty sure Kelly had to calm me down or something because if not I would’ve definitely passed out. Anyways, after that, I got to get to know you and even though I had known almost everything about your career up to that point, I got to start to know you on a personal level and you’re everything I had hoped you would be.

You’re kind, giving, funny, smart and loving and I’m so glad you decided to take a chance on me. Words can’t express how much you mean to me, Gordo. You are so much more than anybody may think. Screw those who think you’re a fuck up, or are no good and a has been. They have no clue what they’re talking about. As far as I’m concerned, they’re just jealous assholes who have never been, and will never be, to the moon.

As for yourself, I wish you could see what I see. I wish you could see how much I love your ocean blue eyes when they watch me, or the way your hair falls onto your face when you-’ Danny stops reading the letter before it goes into too much detail about what you and his dad have been getting up to in this last month. Danny looks at his dad’s bedroom door and seethes, how does his dad get the girl but he doesn’t. Looking back down at the paper, Danny crumbles it up and tosses it into the trash.

“What a fucking joke.”

The minute you get back to your room you take a hammer you had lying around and start swinging, knocking over various replicas of Saturn V, LEM and LSAM, watching them crash to the ground and breaking into pieces like your heart.

“Honey, what the hell are you doing?” You turn to look at your parents, your chest heaving as tears fall down your face, your mother quickly rushing over to comfort you, stroking your hair as your dad looks at the models on the floor. “Why are you ruining your models?”

“Fuck NASA. Fuck astronauts. They’re all fucking assholes.”

“Even Gordo Stevens?” Your mom eyes the pictures on the wall before you remove yourself from her embrace, grabbing the pictures of him and you, and just of him, before ripping them in halves.

“Especially Gordo Stevens.”

----------

Gordo awakens with a groan, his head pounding as he opens his eyes, looking at the clock on the dresser. 9:45. “Fuck,” he pushes himself up to a sitting position and runs a hand through his hair, confusion tormenting his mind. Something feels… off. Dismissing it, he opens the door and makes his way into the kitchen where Jimmy and Danny sit, quietly talking amongst themselves. “Mornin’,” when neither responds, Gordo raises a brow. “I said morning.”

“Not a good morning for you. You broke (Y/N).” Jimmy mentions as Danny abruptly stands up, walking away with his plate of food.

“The hell do you mean?”

“You and her got into a pretty nasty argument last night. She left in tears.”

“She and I got into an argument?” Gordo’s heart races at the thought of him hurting you. Surely he didn’t say something that he couldn’t recover from. Did he?

“I don’t know the entire conversation but you compared her to mom and called her a whore and said some other things,” Gordo’s face pales. Was he really that drunk that he couldn’t even remember what he said to you?

“I did not.”

“You did. She called this morning and told me to tell you to never ever speak to her again. So you must’ve done something wrong.” Gordo slumps into his seat. He would never say that to you, would he?

“I- I need to call her.”

----------

You ignore the phone ringing on your dresser as you stare into an open void. Is this what it feels like to lose the person you love? Various trinkets and photos lay broken and torn on your floor and you don’t bother to clean it up.

“(Y/N)? Can I get you anything?” Kelly asks from her spot at the doorway, a sober expression on her face. Despite her knowing who had broken your heart, she chooses not to make any sort of commentary on the matter.

“No, thank you. I just wanna be left alone,” she nods her head and dips out of the room, leaving you to your thoughts and the constant phone ringing.

----------

“Goddamn it (Y/N), pick up.” Gordo slams the phone down onto the receiver after no one picks while Danny and Jimmy watch in silence, waiting for the next move. Gordo huffs in annoyance as he looks behind his sons, to the wall that contains various bottles of whiskey, gin, vodka, tequila, and wine before looking back down to Danny and Jimmy. “How do I fix this?”

Jimmy shrugs, returning to his new gameboy while Danny scoffs and rolls his eyes, ignoring his father.

“The hell is going on here?” Tracy walks in, startling the boys. Danny is quick to answer.

“We found out who dad’s mystery girl is.” “Oh yeah? Who?” Tracy eyes Gordo up and down, clutching her purse.

“(Y/N).”

“Wait. (Y/N) (Y/N)? As in Danny and Jimmy’s friend? Are you serious? She’s what, 18?”

“20.”

“Gordo, you’re dating someone your own son's age? That’s fucking disgusting,” Tracy comments, poking a finger onto his chest as he smacks it away.

“You have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“What? Why are you even dating her? Is it just because she’s some young hot ass that Gordo Stevens just has to have?”

“Shut up, Trace.” Danny and Jimmy watch, the latter taking out a video camera and secretly recording the whole conversation. Hopefully, his dad will say something that may redeem him in your eyes.

“No Gordo, this is just fucking sick. You’re a disgusting pig for preying on a young girl.”

“Goddamn it! It’s not like that! That was not what was going on.”

“Then what was, dad?”

Gordo sighs, looking down at his hands and wrists, a small little bracelet hanging on his right wrist, a gift you had given him about two weeks into seeing each other. “We were dating. Everything was purely consensual. At first, I was skeptical as to why she would date someone like me, because you’re right, I’m a hasbeen, I’m old, I’m fat, everything you said is true, but she made me feel things you never allowed me to feel. She was there for me when I wanted to just sit and talk about whatever, she was there for me when I was going through a rough patch, and she was there to support my choices, to even support me going back to the moon. She was there for me when you guys never were. So that’s why I continued the relationship, because even for the slightest amount of time, she made me feel loved and wanted and admired.”

“Do you love her?” Tracy asks with a soberness as Gordo looks back down to the bracelet.

“Yeah. Yeah I love her. But I fucked it up again,” he grabs a hold of all the bottles and carries them over to the sink, pouring the liquid out, much to the surprise of his family. “All because of fucking alcohol.” “So what, you’re gonna quit drinking and win her back just like that?”

“Yep, just like that.” Tracy scoffs and grabs her purse.

“Whatever Gordon, come on boys, let's leave your father alone.” And leave him alone they did.

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A couple days pass and when Gordo is not at training, 9/10 times he’s trying to find a way to win you back. He doesn’t know exactly what he said, but based on the reaction from his sons and from you, he knows it’s bad. After the first day of not answering his calls, he gave up on that idea, grabbing his computer and typing long, elaborate emails, describing how much he’s sorry, but that is immediately shut down when ‘receiver unavailable’. There isn’t much left for him to do. He supposes there is one thing, but that would get you in trouble with your parents and then you would really never want to see him again.

Sighing, he closes his laptop and looks around the kitchen, his eyes tired and fatigued, saying how he’s been staying up all night, wishing he never went out to drink that night. Eyeing the trash, he blinks a couple of times, squinting as he tries to make out the shape sticking out of the corner of the trash. Deciding to investigate further, he picks a piece of paper off the floor, un-crumbling it and reading over the neatly written letters.

‘To my own personal hero,

As for yourself, I wish you could see what I see. I wish you could see how much I love your ocean blue eyes when they watch me, or the way your hair falls onto your face when you make me yours, or the way my name sounds falling from your lips, or the way your nose scrunches when you see something you don’t like and don’t even get me started on how smart you are. Even though you don’t think it, you are one of the smartest people I know, I mean rocket science ain’t easy and every time you talk about it, I just happily listen along.

Anyways, to keep this short (because I can go on for hours about how much you mean to me), I love you Gordo Stevens. I’ve been in love with you for a while, but it’s true; I’m in complete and utter love with you. You have been and will always be, my hero.

Yours truly,

(N/N).’

A tear falls on the paper, bringing Gordo out of his trance as he rereads each and every word. You love him? Wiping away unshed tears, he looks down at himself with only one thought. He needs to win you back.

=========

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#the other stevens #Gordo Stevens x reader #gordon stevens x reader #Michael dorman #gordo stevens x you #gordo stevens #astronaut gordo stevens #ed baldwin #for all mankind #for all mankind apple tv

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moved-2-koiranliha · 2 years

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The Horned Cane (short story)

so i can't remember when specifically i wrote this one, but i do remember the exact assignment it was for. it was a group project, we had to write a short story that contained some specific words that i think were randomly chosen. this was years ago, middle school maybe, but i still think it holds up pretty well. maybe i'll rewrite it someday.

A bleak and dreary night at 3:23 in the morning, an indistinct CEO was at work at his desk in the bland, gray office building. No moonlight peeked through the shutters of the windows, and his face was illuminated only by the computer screen. The bags under his eyes were deep and prominent, his hair mussed from the countless times he raked his fingers through it in frustration. The piles of papers seemed to stretch on forever. An overturned picture frame lay among the towers. It was as though he had been there for days.

Everyone had long since left, except for his assistant, who had just then popped in to check on him. “Sir, it’s almost 3:30. You should probably start heading out. Your wife and daughter are probably wondering where you are.”

“My wife is dead.”

The assistant winced. “I apologize, sir. It’s probably going to take some getting used to.”

The man simply nodded, not looking up from the computer screen, and his assistant sighed and left the building. A quick glance at the clock revealed that his assistant had not been exaggerating; it was 3:29 AM.

The man began to gather his things, pausing to glance at the photograph. It was of the man himself, younger, and standing with a woman with long blonde hair. A young girl stood between them. Everyone was smiling at the camera. The photo itself was taken around 10 years ago. The man thought he would never have that kind of happiness in his life again.

As the clock hit 3:33 AM, the door to the small office creaked open, surprising the man and making him drop the photo. The frame hit the tile floor with a loud clatter, and he heard the telltale sound of glass breaking.

“Think you could help me out?” a voice spoke behind the door. The man reached for the handle with shaking fingers, swinging it open and revealing a large goat behind the door. The goat itself was an interesting sight; it was missing a horn and a hoof. Its coat was almost completely devoid of color, deep black and absorbing all light. The man pushed past the animal to look for the source of the voice, when it came from behind him.

“Now you just look stupid.” He whirled around to find the goat staring up at him all too intelligently. It hobbled into the office and seated itself in the man’s desk chair as if it were a human. It motioned with its remaining front hoof for the man to take a seat in a small chair that he could’ve sworn wasn’t there before. He obeyed, never taking his eyes off of the strange creature sitting in his chair. He felt as though he were suffocating. Did one of his employees drug him? Did he fall asleep at his desk? Whatever the cause, this wasn’t happening.

“Oh, it’s happening, all right,” the goat sneered, leaning over on the desk. “I’m here to make a deal with you. Whether you still think this is a dream or not doesn’t matter. Just play along.”

The man found his voice finally. “What do you want from me?”

“I want my horn back. And my foot, if I’m being honest.”

“I don’t have anything like that.”

The goat’s eyes flashed with malice, and the man noticed that they were blood-red. “Oh, but you do.”

The man’s old cane materialized on the desk. It was well-crafted, with what at first glance seemed to be just an oddly ridged handle. Upon closer inspection, it was indeed made of a goat’s horn, connected to the rest of the cane with a goat’s hoof.

“That can’t possibly be yours!” the man shouted, standing up and knocking over his chair. “I’ve had that cane for 20 years, my father gave it to me!”

“Those parts were stolen from me by your father, then,” the goat said calmly. “Regardless of how you acquired it, you’ve flaunted it around enough. I want to be whole again.”

“And what do I get in exchange?”

Without missing a beat, the goat offered, “Your wife.” There was no mistaking the excitement in its voice. It was waiting for this moment.

The man paused. Then, personal bias took over and he choked out a single syllable: “Deal.”

The goat smiled and its eyes absolutely glowed. “Have a good night.” Then, both the goat and the cane disappeared in a wave of hellfire.

“See you in 13 years.”

#short story #writing #creative writing #writers of tumblr #original writing #my writing #writing assignment #spaghetti art

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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~ MLB Curious Gazes ~

prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.

word: 6k +

warnings: language, mentions of sexual content

If you enjoyed this please - reblog, like, recommend, comment, and inbox me to chat about it!

please consider donating to my kofi - my work is FREE and it is a great way to show support!

enjoy!

-=-=-=-=-=-

The Doctor’s Office

Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning.

She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.

The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.

Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing.

He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.

In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.

The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.

His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.

The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.

She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.

Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.

Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.

Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus

Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!

Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration

Holy shit.

She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.

Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.

Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.

Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.

“Good job, ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.

Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”

Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.

YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.

The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.

Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.

Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.

She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.

“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.

It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”

Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”

The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.

Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.

When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”

Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.

“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.

Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”

The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”

Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”

“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.

Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”

“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.

A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.

“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.

Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y’bring a bottle?”

Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”

The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”

Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.

He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .

Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.

“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.

Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office.

Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.

She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?

After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.

His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.

Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention.

The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”

It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.

Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe.

After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play.

He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.

It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”

“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”

Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.

The Charity Event

It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square.

It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.

There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code.

It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.

Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles.

She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms.

The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.

Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.

She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***

It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?

Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.

Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.

As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob.

Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.

“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.

“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.

Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads.

Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.

At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”

Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?

“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.

Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”

YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.

Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”

The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.

“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.

“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.

YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.

“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.

“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.

Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”

Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”

He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”

Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”

Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”

“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.

Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.

He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”

Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.

Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.

She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.

It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.

Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.

“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”

Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.

“He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”

It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.

Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.

One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.”

“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.

“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.

Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.

When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.

“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.

The crowd whistles and coos.

Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.

“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”

She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.

“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.

“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”

The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.

When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.

Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”

“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.

Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.

He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.

After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.

When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.

Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.

Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.

“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”

And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.

“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.

“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.

God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.

When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.

YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.

As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”

Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.

The Little League Game

It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.

The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.

Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.

He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.

They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.

As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.

Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.

The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).

She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.

“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.

“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”

“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.

She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.

Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”

“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.

“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.

“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.

“Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.

“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.

“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.

“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.

Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?

The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.

He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.

Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.

Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.

Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.

Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.

“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.

“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.

“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”

“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”

Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”

YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”

“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.

It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.

As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***

Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.

“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him.

“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”

“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”

Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.

“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.

Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”

Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.

As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.

The Campfire

Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.

Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.

It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.

Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.

Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.

Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.

Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.

“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.

“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.

Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.

Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.

Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.

Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.

When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.

As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.

She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.

After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.

Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.

Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”

Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”

The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.

Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.

Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”

YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”

The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.

Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.

Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.

“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.

Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”

“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.

“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”

Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.

But not tonight.

YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.

“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.

“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.

“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”

All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”

Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.

“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.

When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.

At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.

“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.

Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.

“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.

Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor.

All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.

-=-=-=-=-=-

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mass-percussion · 2 years

Text

Gone in a Snap

summary: clint barton x fem!reader find each other in midst of mourning their lost love ones to Thanos' snap. five years have passed and the victims of the snap have finally returned.

warnings: awkward bit

word count: 871

chapter one || chapter two || chapter three

You instantly turned your head towards where the voice was coming from. A woman with long brown hair stood in the doorway to the master bathroom. She was leaning against the door frame, her lip trembling like she might cry. Clint carefully pushed you off of him and quickly covered your naked body with the light gray duvet that covered your bed.

"Is that really you?" He asked while quickly standing up, throwing on a pair of boxer briefs that were previously laying on the floor.

"Why wouldn't it be? Is it because you're sleeping with another woman!?" Laura said, every single word laced with poison. You felt your face become red as you sunk slightly more into the duvet. You watched the situation that was unfolding in front of your eyes with bewilderment. You only knew one person named Laura, and that was Clint's wife. How could she be standing in your bedroom if she was dead?

"No, Laura. You've been gone for five years! I thought you died!"

"Died? Clint, I was in the bathroom for five minutes. You told me you were going to go mow the lawn. Instead, you're in our bedroom, sleeping with a whore!" Laura paused to take a deep breath, tears began falling from her eyes. "Where did those tattoos come from?"

"That's not important right now. I need you to listen to me. Thanos won, he wiped out half of the population. You and the kids have been gone for several years now. I did what I thought you wanted me to do once you passed. I moved on. I know this isn't the best time, but, Laura, this is my wife, y/n."

Laura looked around the bedroom before her eyes finally landing on you. It seemed as if she finally noticed the different decorations and the hanging pictures of yourself and Clint. She still seemed quite pissed off, but she was in the process of realizing that something was different. You could not help but feel guilty as if this situation was all your fault. You did not know she was going to reappear, especially not out of your master bathroom.

"I need to go find the kids," She said, breaking eye contact with you and marching out of the bedroom. She slammed the door loudly behind her as she went to find the Barton kids.

Clint gave you a look that read 'I'm so sorry this is happening, I'll make it up to you!' as he grabbed a pair of sweatpants and quickly pulled them up. In a blink of an eye, he had left the bedroom to find his children. You waited for a minute to make sure they were both gone before leaving the safety of your bed. You put on the first shirt you could find along with a pair of athletic shorts. You felt as anxiety was rising inside of you, almost like a balloon just waiting to pop.

The Barton family sat around the dining table. Clint sat at the head of the table with Laura sitting in the seat to the right of him. The children filled in at their normal spots, Lila next to mom and the boys fighting over who got to sit next to dad. You stood in the kitchen, hiding behind a freshly brewed cup of coffee. You watched as Clint attempted to explain the Thanos situation to the kids. Luckily, the youngest boy, Nathaniel, was more interested in the fact that he got to play with his train toys while eating breakfast.

"So...who is that?" Asked Cooper, the oldest of the Barton kids, whilst pointing a finger at you.

"Uh," Both Clint and Laura started, attempting to think of the best way to introduce you to the children. It probably would not go over too smoothly with the children if you introduced yourself as their dad's new wife.

"Hi! I'm your dad's friend, y/n. He was letting me stay at your house for the week." You explained, swiftly coming up with a lie. Laura looked at you with a very relieved smile, while Clint refused to make any attempt of eye contact with you. He was frowning, but he knew there was no positive way to introduce you to his children. The way he introduced you to his wife was awful, especially since she has walked in on the two of you having sex. The two oldest children gave you a puzzling look, but nodded their heads to your simple answer. All you could do was assume that they had saw the photos of your wedding that decorated the living room.

"I need to go make a few calls, but I am so happy that you guys are home!" Clint exclaimed, giving both sons a kiss on the top of their head. He did the same to Lila before escorting you to your bedroom. Once inside, he quickly locked the bedroom door before embracing you in a tight hug. You both began sobbing. He was filled with relief, knowing that his children and first ever soulmate were alive and safe. You were filled with worry and pain as you watched the life you built begin to crumble.

#clint barton x fem reader #clint barton #the avengers #avengers #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye #fem reader #miniseries #love #emotional

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weareallstoriesintheend · 3 years

Text

Just Give Me Time (Charlie Barber x Reader)

Summary: One day when going through Charlies night stand you find something you really didn't expect to find.

Warnings: Angst, infidelity, cheating, mentions of divorce

Word Count: 1,907

You were bustling around Charlie’s apartment filling up a small backpack ready for the day. It was a warm Saturday afternoon and the plan was already lain out; you were going out to photograph the new vintage fair that had come into the city a couple of weeks ago. You and Charlie rarely had days out, both of you makes excuses of being too tired from work so the principle of getting an outing with your boyfriend made you giddy! Charlie had already promised to treat you to as many cotton candies and ice cream you could muster, watching you bounce around like a little excited kid made his heart swell with joy.

“Charlie!” you called out throughout the apartment “Where did you put the little bag for the digital camera?”

“Ummm… try my night stand” he said absentmindedly, rustling around in the bags to get them ready.

You pulled your eyebrows down in confusion popping your head round the door, “Why would they be-“ but he was already walking away from you into the kitchen. You rolled your eyes and figured you’d give his suggestion a shot.

Making your way into the bedroom you slid open the top drawer on his side of the bed.

You didn’t even register what you were looking at at first, brain still in a rush to find this camera bag and get out the door, but then your eyes focussed a little more on what was in front of you.

For some reason you sunk to your knees, almost following your stomach which had dropped down to your feet. The voice in the back of your brain reminded you that you’d never been in this drawer, not that you’d had a reason too. Charlie kept his reading material, phone and glasses on the top of the stand, condoms in the bottom drawer and medications in the bathroom so why else would you need to go in here.

But now you knew why.

Sitting in the back of the drawer on Charlie’s side of the bed was a simple gold ring on top of a picture of a little boy, probably about 7 or 8 years old.

Walking back into the living room you could see Charlie packing the last few things into your bag, on any other occasion you would see this as a sweet gesture but right now you could barely stand to look at him. Your eyes almost immediately dragged themselves away from him as your stomach churned. “What’s this?” you asked in a small voice, trying to keep your tone neutral. A tiny part of you was hoping there was a reasonable explanation. Your hands shook a little holding the two items out to him, surely there had to be another reason?

Maybe the ring was his grandads and it was a gift when he passed away? Maybe the boy was a nephew you didn’t know about?

Charlie turned to you smiling, looking from your face down to your outstretched hands, and stopped dead in his tracks. The sudden twist of his features told you everything you needed to know. Instant silent tears began to drip steadily down your cheeks as the reality washed over you.

“Are you married?” despite your determination to keep your voice level having to utter those words made you tremble. Despite how nauseous the words made you it had to be him that told you, no room for presumptions or assuming the worst – you needed to hear him say it.

“S-sweetheart, listen I-“

“Are you married?” you shouted, anger and humiliation bubbled over and you couldn’t bear to hear him stammer.

A simple, quiet reply was all that followed, “Yes”

You scoffed in shock and held your stomach tight, fighting the bile that threatened to rise up. Your legs felt like they wanted to collapse again, like everything in your body was telling you to ground yourself in this ridiculous reality.

“We’re divorcing!” Charlie rushed out, taking a step towards you. Holding your hand up you stopped him, not wanting him to come any closer to you let alone touch you. Your skin crawled as his fingers stayed outstretched.

“Do you think that matters?” you spat; he waved his hands in response like he was attempting to get words to come out. You noticed that they were shaking as he did so.

You continued in his silence, “We’ve been seeing each other for nearly 9 months Charlie! You didn’t think to mention that you were still married?”

He nodded, “Of course I did but… it’s complicated”

“OH I’m sure it is!”

You looked down at the little collection you had in your hands, the tip of your thumb played with the worn gold band but you were focussed on the picture that was below it.

“Your son?” you asked accusingly, holding it up for him to see.

He nodded again, this was the quietest you’d seen Charlie in a long time and you were almost pleased, “Henry”

“Cute name” you sniffed and wiped the cascading tears away roughly with the back of your hand.

A deathly uncomfortable silence fell over the room; all that could be heard was Charlie’s laboured breathing and your sniffles. It was a pathetic scene to say the least. Suddenly, like a white hot flash, you realised you were still clutching the picture with his wedding ring and you felt dirty. You unceremoniously dropped them onto the side table next to you, fighting the temptation to wipe your hands down your jeans.

There was no real shouting, no screaming, throwing things and calling him names. The reality was dumbstruck silence. You felt like you’d been hit by a truck, your limbs shook and your stomach ached. Blinking your eyes you tried to push away the tears and the fact that your head felt like it was spinning.

You were the other woman, at the ripe old age of 28 you were a mistress. It made your blood boil in your veins to think you’d been tricked into hurting another woman.

“How did I not know?” a question for yourself as well as him, you stood shaking your head in disbelief as you received no reply, “I’m so stupid!”

Charlie stuttered, no words making an appearance before his shoulders slumbered and his voice quietened. You stared at him, eyes wide with the horror at his lack of even a defence.

“I’m going home” you said turning frantically to find your jacket and bag.

“Please wait…” Charlie whispered, now the tears began spilling down his cheeks as he spoke up. You noticed how his bottom lip shook as he reached out for you and it made your stomach twist with a strange sympathy. His large hands grappled with your forearms as you tried to stand back from him but his grip was strong enough to hold you.

You gasped a little as he dug his fingers into your skin in desperation, “You’re hurting me” you whimpered and he instantly let go.

“I love you”

Staring up at him you didn’t know whether to slap him or hold him, his face held the picture of complete grief. You shook your head in response and now it was your turn to stutter, lowering your gaze to the floor you kept your eyes on your feet.

Before you could really form words he kept speaking, “I love you! I love you! I love you!” he gasped in a breath and his hands returned to cover your forearms.

“Please don’t go. I… I should have told you. I was going too! But I was scared I would lose him”

Those words caused your eyes to snap up to his face. He nodded, “I thought she would go after me if she knew…. I would never see my son again!” and then it was like something snapped inside him and his towering body crumpled.

Slipping down to his knees he rested his palms on your hips, curling his fingers to grip the material of your jumper. Your body swayed with the force of his actions and your hands found steadying purchase on his broad heaving shoulders. Charlie sobbed, unabashed and completely broken, into your body. Your own tears joined in and you couldn’t help but weave your fingers into his hair and stroke gently along his scalp.

“Please just… give me time to explain everything. There’s so much… I-I can’t…” he cried, coughing and spluttering around his sobs.

“Charlie I-“

“Please!” he practically screamed, in that moment he gazed up at you and your heart shattered once again.

Nothing about him felt malicious or cruel; he was just a lost man who didn’t know what to do. A man whose own actions caused a whirlwind in his life that he didn’t know how to control. A man who just loved his son.

“I-I’m also going to need time” you stuttered, bending down to his level. He still sobbed violently remaining clutched too you as best as he could. Your brain felt like it was rattling in your skull, mere moments ago you were happily in love with the most amazing, brilliant, strong dependable man and now…. now you didn’t know anything.

You stroked back his ruffled hair that was sticking to the tears on his face, snot ran down his top lip from the force of his sobs and you scrunched your jumper sleeve to wipe it away. He nodded rapidly in response to your statement, chewing on his bottom lip to stop it from wobbling, and brought his hands up to cup your face.

“Do you understand that I never meant to hurt you?” he asked, “You are the one thing, other than my son, that has kept me alive through all this fucking shit! You are the one thing that makes me happy. Everything is so… fucked up!”

Everything was so fucked up. Everything was so confusing and you didn’t know what the right answer was here. Part of you wanted to walk out and never come back; your friends would scold you for even still being here. They’d tell you that Charlie lied for 9 whole months! And that divorce or no divorce he was a married man with a child who had stakes in all this. A young kid who would live his whole life affected by your actions from here on out.

But this was the problem - you loved Charlie, that’s why it was confusing. You loved him more than anyone you’d ever met and you just couldn’t let yourself make this so cut and dry. Your heart ached to see Charlie cry and… you didn’t know the situation really. For all you knew his soon to be ex-wife was the worst person alive and she deserved everything she got.

You tried to convince yourself of that but honestly it wasn’t all that convincing. She was probably just some normal woman just like Charlie was some normal man. Maybe she fucked him up, maybe she didn’t.

In this moment you realised you didn’t want to save him. But maybe you could still love him. You were making no promises other than to hear him out, with the ever present threat that you could decide to leave him and never come back if this situation didn’t feel right.

Reaching up you brushed back tears from his flushed cheeks, you nodded once to confirm you understood.

“Just… give me time”

#charlie barber #marriage story #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you

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dreamersdreamloud · 3 years

Text

Coming Home To You

Lena Luthor x U.S Marine Reader

You’re excited for more than one reason. After an unexpected accident during a secret top mission that had you bedridden for almost a year, you finally get to go home. The military has given you the clearance to fly back to National City and reunite with family and friends for a couple months.

Your captain was nice enough to convince the higher ups to reconnect and relax before duty calls again. You tried to tell your captain that it wasn’t necessary but you didn’t win the argument and just accepted it.

“You did good work, Ace. Take the leave. You deserve it.”

Ace. The nickname your captain gave you. You liked it. The reason he calls you Ace is because you’re one of very few good shooters out there in the Marines. You didn’t believe it yourself but you tend to prove it all the time. From shotguns, rifles, handguns, and arrows. You are a sharp shooter with any weapon you handle.

“Thank you, Captain.”

You touched down in National City. The feeling of finally being home is glowing. You play with a small engagement ring attached to your dog tags and look out to the window as the plane makes its way to an unoccupied gate.

Lena Luthor. Your genius, beautiful loving rich girlfriend is who you want to see first we you get back to the city. The woman you’re planning to propose very soon. Just the thought of making Lena your wife made you smile.

“Are you married, dear?”

An elderly woman who was sitting a few seats next to you asked with a sweet caring smile. She caught you playing with the ring with your fingertips.

“Oh no, ma’am. I’m planning to get married though. Hoping it turns out alright.” You said respectfully

“The person must be lucky to have you. Her patiences will pay off once you pop the question.”

You chuckled, “thank you, ma’am. But it seems like I’m the lucky one. She’s the most precious treasure that I have found in my lifetime. I just can’t believe that she’s still with me.”

“So sweet. I wish you luck on the next chapter of your life.”

Everyone was getting up from their seats and collecting their luggage. You quickly offered your help to the elderly woman and talked to her a bit more until you parted ways.

You stopped by your hotel room first to drop off your belongings and take a quick shower to freshen up. You switched to a fresh new pair of your uniform and made yourself look more presentable. You made sure to hide any new war scars you have collected from the past months.

Next, you stopped at a flower shop and bought Lena’s favorite flowers before heading to her penthouse. You know for a fact that she’s there since it’s a Sunday. She shouldn’t be in L-Corp working.

You were getting nervous yet eager as the elevator pulled you up to her floor. You pop in a few mints and rapidly chew on them, leaving your mouth extra minty. You don't know how you got off the elevator and made it in front of your girlfriend's door but here you are. Flowers in hand and ready to give Lena a very long passionate kiss.

You knocked on the door and waited for the woman to answer. The minutes passed we’re feeling extra long. You thought about how she could still be sleeping. You checked your watch before you got here. It remembered that it was already 10AM, she shouldn’t be sleeping in any longer.

You knocked again.

After a couple of minutes, you heard her moving towards the door. Lena finally opened it with just half of her body sticking out.

She looked out of breath but totally shocked once she saw you. You see that she was just wearing one of her thin silk robes. She looks flushed and finds a couple of love bites on her neckline.

Your feelings of happiness and nervous energy drain out of you. The two of you didn’t utter a word.

“Hey, honey. Who’s at the door?” A very familiar voice ruined the moment.

You know that voice. You know who it belongs to. You adjust your eyes behind Lena and find your youngest sister, Kara. She was just wearing sleep shorts and a loose t-shirt. Clearly, she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath since the impression of her hardened nipples could be seen.

Kara stopped where she stood and gave the same reaction as Lena.

“(Y/N), I can explain.” Kara spoke out first.

You produce a dark chuckle. Your world around you is falling apart and burning fast as your anger is building up.

“Darling, please. Hear me out.”

You dropped the flowers and looked at the lovers dead in the eye.

“My girlfriend is cheating on me. . . .”

“(Y/N). .” Kara reaches out.

“NO!” You bark out. “I don’t need your damn explanation. It’s very clear what’s going on here. I can’t believe you two. I know that I was gone for a very long time. Yes I didn’t message you. Yeah I couldn’t tell you that I was caught in an accident and that I was fighting to keep myself alive! . . . I was keeping myself alive because I knew deep down that I wanted to come home to you. . .”

Tears were starting to fall. You felt so vulnerable. Moments of you and your team clinging on to your life while the helicopter crashes down flashes in your mind. Anger was boiling inside you. You hated how that accident happened. You hated that you couldn’t write to your family, friends, and girlfriend that you were in recovery mode. You hated knowing that they possibly thought you were dead to them.

What you hated the most at the moment was finding your girlfriend cheating with your very own sister.

“I just can’t believe you two. Lena, my own fucking girlfriend cheating on me. . . What’s very worse is that you’re cheating with my damn sister! My own fucking sister, Lena!”

You shook your head in disapproval and started to walk away. Lena quickly grabs onto your wrist to stop you from leaving. You turn to her. Looking like a mess with tears running down her face. The look of guilt and disappointment was written all over her. You yank your arm out of her grasp.

“Don’t bother. I wish both of you good luck with your new loving relationship.”

Your last words sting your shattered heart. You speed walk to the elevator, ignoring Lena’s pleading cries. When the metal doors were closing, you last saw Kara trying to comfort your ex-girlfriend on the floor but the woman was desperately trying to break away. Kara was stopping her from running after you.

When the doors finally closed. You broke down even more. Moments of you and Lena spent together flashes within you. You remember your first kiss with her. Your first time having sex together. The time was when she attended your award ceremony. The time where the two of you and your sisters spent the holidays in Midvale.

Moment after moment adds nails to your heart. You punched and kicked the metal doors as hard as you could. Not caring that you’re damaging private property. You couldn’t feel the pain you were doing to yourself. You just felt numb.

Tomorrow you’ll feel the pain you have physically brought upon yourself. In all honesty, you rather feel that than your aching heart that’s falling apart.

You didn’t want to call any of your family members or friends. You wanted to be alone in your hotel room. You open a new bottle of whiskey and drink straight from it. You got out your untraceable cell phone and called one person you like to talk to.

“Ace?”

“I want to shorten my leave time.”

#lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor x reader #lena x reader #kara x lena

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uwuwriting · 3 years

Text

Anger issues w/ Dabi, Bakugou and Aizawa

Request: I’m the type of person who doesn’t get angry very easily but when I do I’m really scary and people back off. Can I request Dabi, Bakugou and either Shiggy or Aizawa with a girlfriend who is just like that and the first time they see her angry they are so confused like how did their quiet s/o turn into the devil. Thank you.

Lmao I’m like that as well. Big mood. People underestimate me and think they can walk all over me just because I’m polite. Bitch nah imma stab you in your sleep in 2-3 business days. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: cursing, some violence, threats *creative ones as well*

Dabi/Touya Todoroki

-Baby was the equivalent of the pikachu meme.

-You were both chillin at his place watching TV.

-Actually he was laying down, head in your lap as he played Among us on his phone while you changed channels in an attempt to find something interesting to watch.

-As you were mindlessly zapping through the channels you stumbled upon an interview with none other than the number 1 hero, Endeavor himself.

-Your finger froze over the channel button as you stared at the hero in front of you.

-You felt Dabi stiffen in your lap, his character staying still on the screen as his father’s voice bounced off the walls of the small apartment.

- “Doll could you change th-”

- “I’m thinking of retiring, yes. My family is my top priority and I would like to spend some quality time with them. Family is very imp-”

- “Shut your clown ass up!”

-The remote went flying barely missing the TV as you launched it at the hero’s face.

- “If I have to hear any more bullshit coming out of your mouth I will march to wherever you are and beat you to a fucking plump got it?”

- “Babe he can’t hear you.”

- “I don’t give a shit! He will hear me when my hands are squeezing his WINDPIPE!”

-And with that you shot up from the couch, sending Dabi rolling to the floor in the process.

-Marching out of the living room, he heard the door slam shut and then a muffled scream before the only sound was the words coming from the TV.

-He had whiplash after that.

-He didn’t know what exactly happened but he was glad in some weird way.

-He knows that you don’t get angry easily, hell he couldn’t get you to snap at him even when he tried his best.

-Sure he irritates you but you have never actually snapped like this before.

-Your calm and collected nature calms him down so seeing you curse and be so violent all of a sudden got him riled up.

-Making his way to your shared room he opened the door finding you curled up on your bed with an angry expression on your face.

-Nose scrunched up, mouth in a scowl and brows furrowed.

-Letting out a small chuckle he took his place behind you bringing his lanky arms around your waist as he turned you around,your nose barely grazing his, eyes burning holes in his chest.

-He brought his forefinger in between your brows and made small circles at the spot, watching as your facial expression relaxed a bit but the scowl was still there.

- “Stop thinking about it you’ll get a headache.”

- “I wanna punch him in the dick.”

- “I wanna do that too but it can wait.”

-Kissing your forehead first he started trailing little pecks all over your face, being satisfied by the small giggles he could get out of you.

-This is why I love you.

Bonus:

- “That was the hottest thing I have seen.”

- “You are getting dommed tonight, lover boy.”

- *flustered burned boy*

Bakugou Katsuki

-He is the one who is angry in your relationship.

-We’ve been new.

-You are his damage control, you can always calm him down and put some sense into him.

-Most of the time he listens to your every word.

-So everyone assumed that since you put up with his shit without batting an eyelash, never showing a sign of anger, you can’t get angry.

-That your anger was that little puff of your cheeks and scrunch of your nose that Bakugou adores.

-No one has ever seen you angry so you don’t blame them.

-But everyone has that one thing that just makes them snap *for me it’s Endeavor*

-You were training with class 1-B when that dickhead Monoma decided to fuck with your boyfriend.

-They were fighting, throwing insults at each other non-stop when Monoma decided to be a dick.

- “Why are you even in this class huh? You would be more useful to the villains. It would be so easy for you too, I bet you don’t need much of a push to join them, don’t you Bakugou.”

-Bakugou may not like talking about it but you know.

-The thoughts that haunt him.

-He was kidnapped and saw his idol be brought down because the League believed that he would make a great entry to their group.

-His own mind works against him sometimes, reminding him of the looks of fear most of the people in his life have when it comes to him.

-He hates it.

-What breaks him even more though is being reminded out loud about those thoughts.

-Having them confirmed by someone else.

-He had stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the other boy in pure horror when he saw a flash of color and Monoma was now laying face down a few feet away.

-You were panting, hands clenched in fists as you stared at the boy in outer disgust, a vein popping on your forehead.

-Bakugou was silent watching your shoulders frantically going up and down, pure rage emanating from your demeanor.

-In the blink of an eye you were on top of Monoma, lifting him off the ground, a snarl escaping your lips.

- “You fucking piece of shit I’ll fucking stab your parents if you say anything like that again!”

-Everyone was shooketh.

-Absolutely terrified but still shooketh.

-Monoma scrambled off the moment you let him go spewing apology after apology.

- “Baby you okay?”

-How the fuck was your voice back to normal? How was it so soft as if nothing happened? As if you didn’t just pin down and threaten someone.

- “Y-Yeah I’m fine.”

-The class was afraid of you for the next four months.

Bonus:

- “Baby, you got so fired up.”

- “No one talks shit about you!”

- “I know but wow that was hot.”

Aizawa Shouta

-Shouta is used to the comments made about him.

-People doubt him as both a hero and a teacher at times and he has learned not to let it get to him.

-He believed that you had closed those comments off as well, you didn’t show any signs of them bothering you at least.

-Sure you might make a small comment whenever you hear something but you never snapped at someone.

-He knew that you prefered tranquility, it was his calm nature that attracted you in the first place *and the fact that he was smoking hot*.

-So when you actually snapped at someone he was taken aback and super turned on.

-Like wow that woman right there giving someone a heart attack is his wife?

-Wow.

-You were both at a hero conference, meeting up with some of your old colleagues to catch up and to get some insight in the hero industry.

-Yall wanted the tea.

-You two were attached to the hip, never leaving each other's side as you enjoyed yourselves.

-You were chatting with a retired heroine who had helped you in the past when you heard murmuring coming from behind you.

- “I heard that one of his students got kidnapped during the summer.”

- “Of course he would let that happen, what could he possibly be a reliable individual? He was a delinquent and a vigilante, irresponsibility is in his blood.”

-Shouta felt you stiffen as your gaze shadowed over.

- “Kit- um Y/N?”

-The two continued dissing your husband and you tried to calm yourself down, you really did.

-But they made it really really hard.

- “He went on live television and gave excuses for that whole ordeal.”

- “You think he was trying to pass the blame?”

- “Of course he was! He has no sense of dignity, leaving his students to fight while he slept and then letting one of them be kidnapped like that.”

-Now he started getting scared because your grip on his arm had tightened and you wouldn’t look at him.

-He thought that you were having a panic attack and it's OUR panic attack so the convention would have to deal with two UA teachers breaking down.

-But then you let go and a sweet smile appeared on your face as you made your way to the duo.

- “It comes from the bottom of my heart when I say that I need you to sit you maniac ass down and be quiet for the rest of the fucking night because don’t think I would hesitate to beat your punkass in front of all those people. If I hear Shouta’s name come out of your lips again I will personally make sure that you won’t be able to formulate words for the next five fucking months.”

-Not even a peep came out of those two for the rest of the evening, their eyes always darting between you and your husband, cold sweat running down their spines every time one of you made eye contact with them.

- “Y/N, kitty, that wasn’t necessary.”

- “You talk shit you get wrecked, period.”

Bonus:

- “Come on Shouta we’re going home.”

- “We’ve only been here for an hour, kit-”

- “You are either blowing my back out or staying here, choose.”

- “Home it is.”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @bemorefiction @threeamwriting @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses @ezoyscorner @letscheereachotheron

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yellowsuitcase · 3 years

Text

Autumn // Draco Malfoy

A/N: Hey guys! I was writing a request but then I put on soft jazz and lit a fall candle and I just felt the need to write a little drabble about the fall season. Enjoy!

Summary: Y/N, who is pregnant, and her husband Draco spend a fall day together.

Waring(s): None!

Word Count: 1.7k

Y/N sighed in content as she watched the orange flames flicker in the fireplace. She took a small sip of her hot apple cider and dug her feet further into her fuzzy brown socks. The sweet jazz her husband had put on their record player soothed her soul. She felt at peace, she felt cozy, she felt safe. After all, autumn was her favorite time of year. The soft sweaters and pumpkin carving and the beautiful changing of the leaves never failed to fill her with joy. The fall season was special to Y/N for many reasons, but perhaps the biggest one was that she had met her husband, Draco, in the fall. They’d also gotten married in the fall. She remembered that day, vividly. The smell of the crisp autumn air, the orange and brown leaves scattered on the ground. Her long-sleeved wedding gown to shield her from the cold. Oh, how she missed that day.

However, she had bigger things to look forward to. Much bigger than her wedding day. See, Y/N was pregnant with her first child. In late March, she found out. Since it was November, her baby was due any day now. Draco was over the moon when she told him. He hasn’t stopped fussing over here since that day. And now, with the day growing ever closer, he hardly ever left Y/N’s side.

Y/N took another sip of her cider, nearly dropping it as she did since her daughter decided to give her a little kick, successfully catching her off guard. She chuckled to herself and rested her hand on her bulging belly, rubbing softly. “Is she bothering you, love?” Draco asked, amused. Y/N looked away from the fireplace. She stared at her husband, who was cozied up on their couch with a book, and smiled softly. “She wants out,” she replied. Draco looked at his wife’s belly. He felt an overwhelming wave of love every time he did. His daughter was inside there, his first daughter. Draco set down his book and stood up. He walked over to his wife, gently got to his knees, and placed his head against her stomach. He said nothing for a while, solely seeping into that precious moment. Soon, his child would be here. The thought of it brought tears to his eyes. He looked up.

Y/N was smiling down at him fondly. She reached out her hand and caressed her lover’s face. How lucky was she to be with a man like him? He’d been her rock throughout the entire pregnancy, dropping everything to come to her aid. There had been a few times when Y/N was sure she was going into labor, and Draco had left work and apparated to their home without a moment’s hesitation. If he ever faced repercussions at the Ministry, he never let Y/N know about it. “Don’t worry about me; you and our baby are the only things that matter to me,” he’d always say whenever she asked.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft, “I love you,” from Draco as he stood up again. Y/N smiled and pursed her lips, signaling she wanted a kiss; Draco delivered. The smell of snickerdoodles filled the air as he sat back down on the couch and wrapped a green blanket around him. His wife looked at him. She could tell by his face he had something on his mind. The fire crackled as she studied him. “What’s troubling you?” she asked.

Draco shrugged. “I’m just a bit stressed, is all,” he replied. He rested his head on the arm of the leather couch, slowly letting his muscles relax. “About?” Y/N prompted. Draco waited for a beat before responding. “What are we going to name her, Y/N? I know we’ve talked about it, but we still haven’t made a decision. It could be any day now that she decides to pop out, and I-I guess I’m a bit worried, is all.”

Y/N gazed at him with adoration in her eyes. She didn’t think it could be possible to love him any more than she already did, but here she was, feeling her heart swell. “I think we’ll know when we see her. We’ll look at her and just...know.”

Draco stared into the fire. He knew she was right; he was just so anxious for her to come. What if he laid his eyes on his daughter for the first time and couldn’t think of a name? It’s something other parents have had happen to them. What if it happened to him and Y/N? Would they just bring home an unnamed baby girl? The thought didn’t sit right with Draco.

“I know you want everything to be perfect, but you don’t have to stress so much about it. If you put too much pressure on yourself, we’ll never be able to make a decision. Let’s just see how the next few days play out, okay? Let’s enjoy the time we have together. Soon it won’t be just you and me, you know?” Y/N reminded him. It suddenly hit him that in a few weeks, there would be another human in his house. No longer would it be Draco and Y/N. The realization gave him a sudden burst of energy. He jumped to his feet and rushed to the entryway closet. “What’re you doing?” his wife called out to him.

He turned around and smiled. “Getting my shoes on, we’re going on a little trip.” Y/N stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Draco Malfoy, if you haven’t noticed, I’m nine months pregnant. There’s no way I’m going anywhere, not unless we use muggle transportation,” she informed him. Draco had a mischievous grin plastered to his face; he was up to something. He stood in front of her with her shoes and jacket in his hands. She looked at him incredulously, unsure about whether or not she trusted him. But he paid her no mind. Kneeling to the floor, he slipped her shoes onto her swollen feet, making sure they weren’t too tight. Then he stood up and helped her off of the rocking chair she was in. She reluctantly put her arms in the jacket he held out for her. It was a beige color and big enough to wrap around her pregnant belly. Y/N busied herself with her hat while Draco rushed to the kitchen. She thought nothing of it, simply assuming he wanted to grab his keys should they run into a muggle.

Draco held out his arm for her. Once she took it, he led her to the front door. “Where are we going? You still haven’t told me,” she complained. Draco responded with a kiss on her temple, successfully silencing her. They walked out the door and down the sidewalk. Y/N took her mind off of what Draco was planning and instead admired the scenery around her. Her hand felt heavy in Draco’s as she began to relax. They walked in silence for quite some time.

Soon the sidewalk came to a dead end. In front of them stood a large tree. It looked familiar to Y/N. She turned to Draco to see he was smiling. “Why are we here?” she asked. He turned to her. “Well, I came across this tree when I was coming home from work one day. It’s an oak tree, like the one in the Hogwarts courtyard.”

“You mean the one people used to carve their initials into?” Y/N asked. Draco nodded. “That’s the one. When I saw this one, in particular, it reminded me of our school days, and even though we didn’t sit at this tree very often, we spent a lot of time in the courtyard,” he said. Y/N chuckled. “We did. Lots of picnics out there,” she said happily as she stroked her stomach.

“Exactly. You mentioned these being our last few days of it being just the two of us, so I thought it might be fun to have a little picnic, for old time’s sake.” Draco stared at his wife expectantly. He looked pleased with himself. Y/N laughed and let her head fall onto his shoulder. “You’re a dork. But I am starving, whatchu got Malfoy?” she asked. Draco winked and let go over her arm. He looked around before taking out his wand and wordlessly making a red and orange blanket appear on the autumn dirt. Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a towel. He placed it on the blanket and gently unwrapped it to reveal the snickerdoodles Y/N had put in the oven earlier that afternoon.

Draco made sure the cookies weren’t going to move, and then he walked over to his wife and helped her down onto the blanket. She sat down and got herself as comfortable as she could, and Draco followed suit. They wasted no time digging into the sweet snickerdoodles. Draco looked up in between bites to see Y/N stuffing her face. He smiled to himself; he remembered her doing the same thing when they’d share lunch together on a Sunday afternoon. Y/N had a tendency to eat as if someone was going to appear out of thin air and snatch her food. Draco found it adorable, often jesting and calling her his little chipmunk. She sensed his eyes on her and glanced up.

“Not a word from you, I am a pregnant witch, and I can eat however many I please,” she declared, causing her husband to chuckle. He continued to watch as she munched on the cookies. She looked as beautiful as the day he first saw her. Perhaps even more beautiful now, as she had that glow about her.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said suddenly, yet gently. Her eyes flickered to his. “I love you too, sweetheart. Thank you for dragging me out of the house to eat cookies,” she said sweetly. “Your daughter is enjoying them just as much as I am.” Draco scooted closer to his wife and placed a hand on her belly. Almost instantly, he felt a kick. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her bulge. And then it hit him.

“Autumn,” he whispered with a gasp. He sat up to look at his wife. “Autumn,” he repeated. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Draco, that’s the season we’re in.” He shook his head. “No, no. Autumn. We should name her autumn,” he said, his eyes wide. Y/N looked down at her stomach. She saw it stretch as her daughter kicked again. She lifted her head to look back at Draco.

“She likes it,” she said with a smile.

#draco lucius malfoy #Draco Malfoy #draco fanfiction #Draco #draco malfoy x yn #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy dad #harry potter fanfiction #pregnancy #autumn #fall drabbles #draco imagine #apple cider #snickerdoodle #hogwarts

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feralnumberfive · 3 years

Text

The Rewatch Academy: Episode 2 of Season 1

“Run Boy Run”

I am in no way a good analyst so my little analysis and speculations probably sound a bit goofy or pretty wild and probably mean nothing at all. Everything I put into this post about each episode is purely what I noticed or thought, whether it's funny or serious. I will be making jokes, so please just leave it at that (in no way am I trying to make fun of an actor and or character!) I am also in no way saying I noticed this stuff first. This is just what I noticed while rewatching these episodes

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂

1x01 | 1x02 | 1x03 | 1x04

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂

☂ Ben is a tired boy leaning on his chair

☂ Luther and Allison please stop making googly eyes at each other

☂ Five really woke up and chose violence that day huh

☂ Diego already knows shit is about to go down and it’s so funny

☂ I love that Reginald doesn’t even scold Five for stabbing the table

☂ Five: “I have a question.” blah blah blah Veggie is talking Five: “I want to time travel.” That’s not a question, Five

☂ It’s interesting to see young Five blinking/jumping compared to older Five. Even at this age, 13, he says that he’s still practicing his spatial jumps. Young Five needs to clench his fists and almost squeeze his eyes shut just to concentrate. Older Five simply just teleports without effort and is able to casually blink even as he’s just walking. Five probably practiced teleporting a lot in the apocalypse

☂ Someone else pointed this out, but all of the other Umbrellas are frozen for a for a second as Five teleports next to Reginald. While that freeze is just editing, and possibly a small error, this is another example of how Five’s spatial teleporting doesn’t make a noise. Luther, Diego, and Allison only look at Five when he begins talking to Reginald. Grace notices Five right away because he is in her line of sight while Luther and Diego were looking at where Five was sitting and Allison had her head down eating

☂ “The effects it might have on your body, even your mind, are far too unpredictable.” Harsh foreshadowing

☂ The “Run Boy Run” scene is one of the best musical moments in all of the show. It gave me chills when I first heard it, and the fact that all of the lyrics that play during that part match so perfectly with it make it even better. Tomorrow is another day being sung as Five travels into 2019 is just too good

☂ Imagine how scared you have to be to call out to your p.o.s father

☂ The instant regret immediately falls onto his face and he kneels in front of the Academy

☂ I love how in the first few episodes Five’s hair is styled exactly as it was when he was an old man and when he was actually 13. Over the rest of the season and the second season it just gets more disheveled and floppier

☂ “You think I didn’t try everything to get back to my family?” Ahhhh there we go, one of my favorite Five lines. This here is probably when I truly fell in love with his character. He spent 45 years just trying to survive and attempting to get back to his family. He would have spent more too if the Handler hadn’t taken him in

☂ Vanya is genuinely trying to understand what happened and Five was being a little asshole. C’mon, bud, she’s just confused and hasn’t seen you in forever

☂ This Five and Vanya scene melts my heart (simply as a sibling relationship!!) She doesn’t care anymore if she understands, she just wants him to stay because she hasn’t seen him in a while. Even Five understands that as his demeanor quickly changes from being frustrated to gently telling her “Night.” He watches her as she leaves, also partially realizing that he hasn’t seen her in a while too

☂ Why didn’t Five just teleport outside of Vanya’s apartment?? That would have been the stealthiest thing

☂ “All quick and efficient skills.” A little note on Five’s level of skill of slaughtering the Commission agents in Griddy’s

☂ Diego said he bought his police badge on Ebay, so computers do exist in the UA universe

☂ “By the way, this thing might look like a botched robbery, but my gut’s telling me something else is going on here.” Yeah, and that something else is your brother

☂ I want Claire to meet her uncles and aunt so bad

☂ So Ben has a ghostly puzzle book and pen he can use? Because if they were real Pogo would have been able to see them just floating in the air. What other ghostly items can Ben summon? (I believe this is more so just an error but it’s fun to think about)

☂ “I-I found it at a playground, actually. Must have just *click* popped out.” An underrated Five line

☂ Five immediately becomes aggressive at the thought of losing the eye, something he found clutched in the hand of his dead brother and was a clue to what caused the death of his siblings and the end of the world

☂ Just now noticed that you can see Diego up on the second floor being led down to where Patch is in the police station

☂ I really like that they added in the little tidbit about a cold case Five created 81 years ago

☂ I miss Patch. She deserved better and more screen time

☂ Hey, Diego might have been thrown out of the Police Academy but at least he’s still in The Umbrella Academy!

☂ Hearing Patch talk to Diego really made me realize that the Umbrellas weren’t even necessary for helping with crime. It was just Reginald’s way of training them

☂ Love the shot of Luther looking at Diego’s cross-stitch and the camera lining it up so it’s like he’s wearing the mask

☂ Five lying just to keep Vanya away and to continue on with his goal hurts. His goal is saving the world and his family, but I don’t think he actually took in what Vanya was saying to him or maybe he recognized the offer but shoved all of his feelings down. She was reaching out to actually get him some help and he lied to her to avoid that. Maybe he doesn’t care and is just blinded by his ultimate goal. Save the world and family first, then process your feelings and genuinely communicate with your siblings

☂ Don’t worry Klaus, I would have let you wear that outfit

☂ When Cha-Cha questions “Five” aka the poor tow truck guy, she asks him about “The London job in ‘66.” I believe she is referring to the Shepherd’s Bush murders where three policemen were murdered

☂ Hazel replying “Not from what I’ve heard.” when Cha-Cha asks if he thinks Five is a whimperer shows that Five definitely had a reputation in the Commission for probably being a cold and stoic guy

☂ Vanya is just trying to help, chill Allison 😭. You haven’t seen her in years, what do you know about her?

☂ Klaus would really slap his brother in the face to get drug money

☂ Another example of Five not making noise when he teleports is when he blinks into the taxi and Klaus didn’t notice that he had left until he turned to look where Five was. On the other hand though the taxi driver does jump as Five suddenly appears in the car. However, I believe that might be from the driver noticing Five in a mirror in the car

☂ I wonder what languages the Hargreeves siblings know. Vanya didn’t understand Leonard’s German. You think Reginald would have taught them multiple languages or maybe she forgot it if she was taught it

☂ I don’t know why but Luther just siting there and reading a book and almost getting hit by the knife is really funny to me

☂ Yeah Diego doesn’t have to prove his innocence, but it would have saved a lot of trouble

☂ Rewatching the scene with Leonard talking to Vanya about his father is just disturbing when you already know what happened to him and how he’s lying just to try to be more relatable

☂ I heard a rumor that smoking is bad for you ❌

☂ Vanya calling to make sure Allison is okay even though she hurt her makes me sad. She’s so nice and thoughtful

☂ The old man can’t even reunite with his wife before he gets hunted down

☂ The shot of Hazel and Cha-Cha putting on their masks in the dark with the music is 👌👌

☂ Again, Cha-Cha isn’t able to hear Five as he teleports next to her and slices her arm. She might not have noticed him though because he was very quick to attack her

☂ Five really went through all of that just to bring his wife home

☂ I think it’s an easily blocked out part because we already know what Allison has to say and it’s exciting, but Luther is apologizing about accusing Diego and causing issues amongst his siblings

☂ Five is just so defeated and emotionally tired that he doesn’t allow Luther to touch him. In fact, he very quickly and aggressively grabs Luther’s wrist. You can tell Five is a little out of it and I believe it was more so his subconscious stopping Luther. Five doesn’t want help, he’s going to carry the burden of figuring out who ended the world and killed his family as far as he can by himself

☂ “There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing any of you can do.” Are such heavy lines. Five is so emotionally and mentally tired at the end of the day and he sounds like he’s about to breakdown. He’s replaying the moment he found his siblings’ corpses. They weren’t able to stop the person who ended the world. Luther is offering his help, but Five is denying it. Luther couldn’t stop the person who ended the world. None of his siblings were able to stop that person. He’s telling himself that they can’t help and he’s telling Luther and Allison that too. Five wants to be alone to figure out who this person is. His siblings can’t help him

☂ Five coming across the corpses of his siblings is just heartbreaking. He first stumbles across three adults lying in the rubble. One of them is holding an eye. He goes to shake the man in all black, having a tiny bit hope that miraculously he is still alive. He stumbles across another body only to back away with tears in his eyes as he spots the tattoo on the man’s arm and realizes who these people are

☂☂☂☂☂☂☂

Feel free to comment or reblog with things you have noticed too!

#the rewatch academy #tra #tua #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #1x02 #run boy run #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #number five #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #hargreeves siblings #leonard peabody

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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 years

Text

Princess

Harry Potter AU Marauders ERA

Summary: You grew up in the Black household. Regulus was always your playmate and best friend. Now that the two of you are nearly grown things are changing. They changed a long time ago. In your mind, you had always belonged to Regulus. Now a war is going and things will become harder than ever.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: E- smut. Smut series. Don’t like smut? Please stay away from this series

_____

It was 6 am when you heard the front door slam closed. You yawned and glanced at the clock. This was the latest that Regulus had ever come home after a death eater “meeting.” It had been two weeks since Regulus had said a word to you and it was driving you batty. Going from being Regulus’ pet to nothing was beginning to wear on you.

You had been living in the Black family household since you were two years old. After your mother was killed and father sent to Azkaban for being a dark wizard. Your aunt Druella talked Walburga and Orion into taking you in. Walburga would finally get the daughter that she so desperately wanted. That was your life. You would go between Walburga and Orion to Druella and Cygnus Black. To some, Walburga treated you better than her own sons. She pampered you senseless. You were her “special” one and you were to grow up knowing that. She wasn’t able to produce another child after her rough pregnancy with Regulus but she ended up getting what she wanted anyway.

Reggie...your heart fluttered thinking about him. As children the two of you were inseparable. It was decided early on that you would be Regulus’ pet and eventual wife. Neither of you seemed to be opposed to this arrangement. As children, the two of you would scowl at each other when Walburga would mention the betrothal. The two of you were practically siblings. Falling in love with the other would seem so weird!

When it came to starting school, you began to notice the subtle differences in Regulus. You began to notice his jealousy when another boy would talk to you. It didn’t matter to him that it was on himself that you would cling to. In Regulus’ mind, the two of you grew up together and each other was the only thing that either of you needed.

It didn’t take long for you to begin to notice Regulus for the man he was. Puberty was a literal bitch who smacked the two of you over the head and changed everything about the other. Both of you grew into haughty good looks that turned a lot of the members of the opposite sex’s heads. You had lost your “baby fat” and grew slender with violet eyes. Regulus grew taller and you began to notice his chiseled jawline and romantic eyes. The attraction was building until the point the two of you were desperate for physical love. You didn’t mind that Regulus’ hand started staying on your lower back longer than normal or how he would “casually” stare at your breasts. His hands and mind were on you and not the other girls (who were desperate for his attention.)

The pivotal change in your relationship came when Sirius left home. Your memory from that day was still strong….

You had been out shopping that day with your aunt Druella. She decided that it was time to start buying you more “ladylike” lingerie. Druella hadn’t said it directly but she assumed that you were already sleeping with Regulus. It was time that you learned to please him properly.

Kreacher popped up the moment that you stepped into the house with your shopping bags.

“Mistress Y/n, let Kreacher take your things upstairs.”

You let the elf take the things out of your hand before picking up on the sullen mood in the house. It felt darker than normal. You automatically called Kreacher back.

“Is something going on?”

Kreacher winced before speaking.

“You should go to see my mistress. She ordered Kreacher to tell you that she wants to see you upon your arrival. She is in her sitting room.”

Kreacher said before popping out of the room. You shrugged off Kreacher’s words. In your mind, you assumed that Walburga was probably upset over some childish prank that Sirius played.

Stepping into the sitting room, you noticed Walburga elegantly placed on her chaise lounge. A half-empty glass of wine sat beside her as her dark eyes peered into the flames.

“You wanted to see me, mum?”

Walburga didn’t look up.

“Y/n, I’m glad that you are home. Sirius is no longer with us.”

You frowned, confused by her words. Did she finally kill the boy? You wouldn’t have been surprised. The past few weeks had been beyond tense in Grimmauld Place. You had found yourself asking Sirius to tone it down a bit but he refused.

“No longer with us, mum?”

You repeated her sentence as Walburga stood and closed the distance between your bodies. Her beautiful face took in your appearance before she reached out and touched your face.

“He has decided that he no longer wishes to be part of this family. Therefore, he is dead to us all. Do you understand?”

You nodded but, no, you didn’t understand. Where was Sirius? Was he alive? The two of you had little in common but you still cared for him. You also knew in the beginning, you had been intended to be for Sirius. He was the heir after all and would need a suitable wife. You, however, took to Regulus first. Walburga wasn’t about to upset her favorite son by taking away the one person that he loved the most.

“I do, mum. Are you alright?”

You asked, sweetly. Over the years you had learned to be sweet as pie to Walburga and she would eat of your hand. If you played into her “perfect daughter” role then you could get anything that you wanted.

Walburga smiled.

“You’re a sweet girl. I will be fine. You should go tend to Regulus. I believe he is taking this hard.”

You didn’t have to be told twice before quickly going up the stairs. Walking by Sirius’ room, you couldn't help but question what “actually” happened. Was there something that you had not seen or something that Walburga hadn’t told you? Your best guess was...yes.

Stopping outside of Regulus’ half-closed door, you could see the outline of his body lying on his bed. His hand was hovering in the air to catch the golden snitch that whirled above him.

“Regulus?”

You said his name gently as you stepped in and closed the door. Regulus didn’t look up at you. His messy curls were sprawled over his pillow like a crown. Your pampered prince...you thought with a smile.

“Where have you been?”

He asked, simply.

“Druella took me shopping.”

Regulus nodded. He wasn’t surprised. Druella had been “stealing” you from him a lot lately. Regulus figured Druella was tired of his possessive nature when it came to you.

“I suppose that you heard about Sirius.”

Regulus added. You nodded, trying to gauge his reaction. Regulus was a master at making his true emotions and today was going to be no different. You didn’t doubt Regulus’ love for his brother. Now that his brother was gone, Regulus was destined to be sour. Sirius abandoned the two of you in Grimmauld Place as if you both meant nothing.

“I did. Are you alright?”

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Fine.”

You took a breath before climbing onto the bed beside him. Wrapping an arm around his chest, you nuzzled your face against him.

“Why would he do such a thing?”

“He’s a selfish toad.”

Regulus snapped.

“My only worry is you.”

You said, gently. Regulus didn’t reply for a moment. You were doing exactly what he wanted. You were comforting him...or at least trying to. Regulus had you and that’s all he needed. The two of you could be alone in the world together and be just fine.

“What did you buy today?”

Regulus asked, wanting to change the subject. He was already tired of discussing his feelings and if the subject wasn’t changed then he would be sobbing in your arms soon.

You sat up before blushing.

“Lingerie.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“I wanna see.”

Regulus smirked when your mouth dropped.

“Reggie…”

Regulus reached out and pulled you onto his lap.

“We’ve been kissing for years. You’re mine, after all…”

You quickly unbuttoned the blouse, not needing to be told twice. Regulus, meanwhile, sat back with his typical “Black family scowl.” He was surprised that you agreed to undress for him so easily. There was also the thought that he was finally getting what he wanted. Regulus had been watching you closely for a long time. As your body started to “change” so did his own curiosity about how it would feel to touch you...to put his mouth on you.

Regulus ignored the thought of the muggle porn that he had seen. Sirius was a shameless git and didn’t mind admitting that he liked watching the stuff. Regulus, on the other hand, didn’t want to admit that his own curiosity had him wondering how it would feel to have you underneath him? Would you move the way these muggle women did under their lovers? How long would it take Regulus to gain your permission for physical affection? It had been too long. Regulus didn’t care that the two of you were extremely young to be doing such things...he wanted it!

The moment that your blouse was fully unbuttoned and the tops of your breasts came into view Regulus bit his bottom lip. He had seen you in a swimsuit but this was different. This was intimate apparel that only he should see. You were his and only he was going to look at you in such a way.

“Don’t laugh.”

You whispered as you tossed your blouse on the floor…”

Your mind was still on the memory of your first time in order to pull on a cream-colored dressing gown. Neither Regulus nor yourself had intended to have sex that day. It just happened. After he saw your bare breasts the two of you were making out heavier than normal. The next thing that you knew Regulus was thrusting into you. Maybe this was the best way that you could have provided him with comfort?

The rest of the house was quiet as you slipped out of the bedroom that you now shared with Regulus. Slipping down the stairs, you prayed that Walburga and Orion were sleeping in that morning. You wanted some time with Regulus alone.

Your lover’s increasing distance and lack of being home were getting to you. It wouldn’t be long until both of you returned to school and your chances of “being close” diminished greatly. Having to sneak around to gain some private time with Regulus was a bit annoying. You also had the feeling that as soon as Regulus was around his male friends; you would be forgotten about to an extent. It was no secret to you that your cousin Evan was a death eater and so was Barty Crouch Jr.

Regulus stood in the kitchen, staring out the window when you stepped in. He had taken off his robes and stood only in the black jumper and matching trousers all of the death eaters had taken on as their “official uniform.”

“I’ve missed you.”

Regulus turned around the moment that he heard your voice. He internally thanked his mother and father for being “sound sleepers.” You had just woken up and looked like a total goddess standing there with your arms crossed like a pouting child. The dressing gown left little to Regulus’ imagination.

He waited a few seconds before gently pushing you against the wall. Spreading your legs, Regulus took his place between them.

“Yeah? Why don’t you show me how much you missed me?”

Your fingers tangled in his curls before pulling him into a long kiss. Reaching down, you tugged the jumper over his head. Regulus shook his head to free himself from the garment. He waited all of two seconds to push the dressing gown from your shoulders. You were left only in the lingerie that you had slept in. The chill of the room on your exposed skin left your shivering closer to your lover.

“You’re such a tease.”

Regulus hissed as your hand right hand caressed up his chest and down his left arm over the dark mark. Your left arm was around his waist to make sure that he didn’t get away too easily.

“Take me to bed, Reggie.”

You whined against his mouth. Regulus quickly lifted you into his arms and carried you up the stairs. He forgot all about the abandoned articles of clothing that were in the kitchen.

Locking the door behind him, Regulus tossed you onto the bed as he began to unbuckle his belt.

“Well, come here and show me how much you’ve missed me.”

You were on your knees without having to be told twice. Tugging Regulus’ trousers down, you pressed kisses to his thighs and hips. Regulus groaned as he ran his hand over his length. It had been two-fucking-weeks since he had last touched you and he hated it.

Regulus’ negative thoughts vanished the moment that your mouth was wrapped around his length. His eyes rolled back as you took him inch by inch to the back of your throat.

“Fuck.”

He growled, wrapping a hand through your bedridden curls for leverage. You, meanwhile, let your eyes flutter open enough to look up at Regulus’ face. His eyes were closed as he muttered “good girl” and “fuck yes” over and over. You smiled knowing that you had the talent of turning prim and proper Regulus Black into a cursing stuttering mess with one touch.

Regulus pulled away enough for his cock to pop out of your mouth. He reached down and tugged you onto the bed. He sunk down in front of you with a shit-eating smirk.

“Has my princess been a good girl?”

He asked in a mocking tone. You only nodded. Regulus tugged your knickers down and tossed them over his shoulder before stroking his index finger down your folds.

“How many times have you touched yourself here?”

“Just once.”

You confessed. Regulus raised an eyebrow before turning his attention to your thighs. The evidence of your last time together was healing. Love bites and healed scars from his biting, littered the places that only he could see.

“Are you sure?”

He asked, dropping a kiss to your plump flesh. You, again, nodded.

“I used my fingers.”

Regulus chuckled and quickly wrapped his hands around yours. He took your index and middle finger into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the digits as if it were your clit that he was lavishing affection on.

“These fingers?”

Regulus finally asked as he removed the digits from his mouth. You nodded as Regulus took your soaking fingers to rub yourself. His hand guided yours as he smirked up at you.

“Reggie, please. It's been two weeks.”

You whined. Regulus didn’t budge and you knew that he would only make love to you when he was ready. Your lover was in “dom” mode and he was going to play like a naughty boy.

“I know it's been two weeks. Trust me, love. I know very well. You’re going to have to get used to going some time without being fucked. You know how hard it is at school. It's just one more year, sweetheart. I foresee a lot of dates to the astronomy tower and room of requirement in our future.”

Regulus was proud to see how much of a withering mess that he caused you to be.

“You could always sleep in my bed.”

He added, smacking your mound lightly. You gasped as Regulus repeated the motion.

“Do you seriously want to be making love to me in front of your friends?”

You squeaked. Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“They all know that we have sex. Evan’s bitching to his mother that I get to have you sleep in my bed every night and he has to stay downstairs with his mother and girlfriend. Barty...well...the closest Barty has ever come to sex is watching us snog.”

Regulus was right on that one. Barty had zero luck when it came to women. The poor boy seemed to be living vicariously through Regulus. You couldn't count the number of times that Regulus’ on-again/off-again friend had sat and watched the two of you snog jealousy.

“He’s fingering her in front of everyone!”

You internally laughed at the tone of Barty’s voice when Evan finally had enough of Regulus’ shenanigans and pulled the other boy out of the common room. Evan didn’t seem to care that the two of you would practically be fucking in front of everyone until he got sick of watching it. You smiled at the memory of your cousin's disgust.

“It's hard to study when you have someone’s tongue down your throat. Will the two of you stop?”

Regulus pulled away from you for a moment before lust drove him right back. Even slammed his book closed.

“I can hear you two kissing! I’m going to the library. Let’s go, Crouch.”

“We can really scare them this year.”

Regulus commented as his index finger slowly pushed inside. You gasped and threw your head back onto the bed. Regulus moved up enough to join you. He pulled you into his arms as he continued to manipulate your body.

“You won’t forget me like you have this summer, will you? I feel neglected.”

Regulus stopped his movement at your comment. You knew that annoyed him. He quickly took his place over you and shoved inside. You would have moaned loudly had Regulus not crammed his hand over your mouth.

“Neglect you? I’m inside of you right now. You don’t go without! I’m working to make sure that we have a nice life after graduation.”

Regulus increased the speed of his thrusts. Again, you found yourself praying that Walburga was sleeping through all of this. The last thing that you wanted your “adopted mother” to hear was the sound of Regulus’ skin slapping against yours.

“You can be a bit selfish.”

Regulus grunted. His eyes had closed as he focused on not coming. Truth be told, he was as selfish as you. When it came to you, he could be a selfish little tyrant and he didn’t care. You were his to kiss and his to please.

“So can you.”

You snapped back. Regulus’ dreamy eyes opened and he smiled.

“Yeah? You think so?”

You nodded with a smirk as Regulus pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach. He pushed back in before you were able to formulate what he was doing. Regulus was trying to make you come. If you came first, he would win your “fun little game.” The head of his cock shoved against your cervix, leaving your gasping.

“I’m making you come. How is that selfish?”

He asked with a grin. Regulus bit down on your ear before snaking his hand around your waist and teasing your clit.

“Reggie…”

Your teasing tone softened. Regulus pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“I love you.”

You gasped as he shoved in balls deep, sending you into a powerful orgasm. Unable to move a moment, you simply enjoyed the feeling of Regulus rocking into you muttering in French. You turned, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“I love you. I know that you want to come.”

Regulus wrapped his hands in the sheet and increased his pace as you whispered sweet nothings in his ear.

“Coming.”

He managed to get out as you tugged on his hair the moment he exploded inside of you. Regulus remained in his kneeling position before pushing your legs off enough to collapse on top of you. His head snuggled against your breasts as you gently ran your fingers through his sex ravaged curls.

“Such a selfish girl.”

Regulus said with a smirk as you pressed a kiss to his forehead. He yawned, finally feeling relaxed. Selfish was the last thing that Regulus thought that you were but it was fun to tease you.

“Sleep, sweetheart.”

You cooed, feeling suddenly tired yourself. Regulus didn’t move. He remained on top of you before dozing off. Your hand interlocked with his as you too fell asleep.

This was how Walburga found the two of you an hour later. The two of you were nude and wrapped up in each other. Orion said, putting a hand on his wife’s back. He didn’t have to look at his son to know what the two of you were doing.

“Let them be.”

_______

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toomanyrobins · 3 years

Text

Sugar

Summary: Moving to the small town of Lehigh was supposed to be a quiet escape. But, the local sheriff and his determination to drive you crazy turns your plans right on their head.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Content Warning: some swearing, annoying misunderstandings that would be fixed if people just communicated

Notes: This has not been proofread, so any mistakes are entirely my own. Whoops!

You had just arrived in Lehigh the week before and had been busy moving into your new home on the outskirts. When you’d seen the little cottage, you knew that it was meant to be and used the money grandpa had left when he died to buy it. A few days after moving in the last of the boxes, you wandered through the small town. The help wanted sign in the front of the diner made the job search easy and after a week working as a waitress, you’d settled into a comfortable rhythm. The other waitresses had been kind to her and now you considered Wanda and MJ to be friends. MJ and her boyfriend, Peter, had a young son and she had begged you to take the breakfast shift so that she could be home in the mornings. You had readily agreed, enjoying filling your days with work, and now it was your first morning shift.

You greeted Wanda as she pulled in and together you flipped on the lights and put on music to dance to as you started up the coffee machines and took down the chairs. It wasn’t long before people started coming in. Two men in uniform walked into the diner and sat in one of the booths in MJ’s usual section. You couldn’t stop the little voice in your head from appreciating how attractive they were, but you shut her down. You walked up to the table and plastered on a smile, “Morning, gentlemen. What can I getcha?”

The blonde looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t know you.”

Your internal voice snorted at the obvious statement and you nodded, “And I don’t know you. Now, what can I getcha?”

The dark-haired man did snort at the awkward interaction, “I will have a black coffee and whatever pie you have.”

“Does cherry work?” He nodded and you turned back to his friend, “And you, Officer Stranger?”

“That’s Sheriff Stranger—I mean Rogers—Sheriff Rogers.”

“Alright, Sheriff,” you decided to take pity on the awkward man, “What’ll it be?”

“Toast and black coffee.”

“Right away, Sheriff Stranger,” you flashed him a dazzling smile and went to put his order in.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head, “Well done, Punk. You made a great first impression on the pretty waitress.”

Steve groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face, “Thanks, Buck. Appreciate it.”

“Get some coffee in you and try again. Maybe smile this time.”

After that first failed encounter, Steve had come to the diner every morning. For two weeks, he would come and sit in your section. You couldn’t help yourself and continued to call him Sheriff Stranger. It had evolved into a fond nickname, instead of a sarcastic quip. He had taken to sitting at the counter instead of the booths so that he could chat with you as you moved around. He had been surprised by how quick your mind was and it had become the habit for him to read the paper aloud, the two of you going back and forth about whatever the front page was reporting on.

That morning, just like every other morning, he put in his usual order of black coffee and toast. You threw your head back dramatically and groaned, “Stranger, you’re killing me. Variety is the spice of life. How about scrambled eggs? Home fries? A piece of fruit?”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at your dramatics, “I like my toast and coffee, Sugar.”

“Fine!” You threw your hands in the air, “It’s your really boring funeral.” Steve chuckled under his breath as he looked back down at the paper. It didn’t take long for you to bring his plate over and when he put the paper down, he choked at the sight of what was on his plate. You meticulously had arranged a bacon smiley face with melon balls for eyes on top of his toast. You skipped away before he could say anything and he was left to stare at the ridiculous breakfast. Steve contemplated calling you over, but dreaded seeing the disappointment in your eyes. Instead, he popped a melon ball in his mouth and when he looked up, you had a massive grin on your face. You purposefully avoided looking over, but both of you knew this was a victory for Y/N.

After that first day, you continued to sneak new things on his plate often. The day after, you brought him his usual coffee and toast, but also put a glass of orange juice down. You winked at him, said something about vitamin C, and walked away to help another customer.

The day after that, it was an omelet with peppers and cheese. Every few days, you would allow him a respite from the over-the-top breakfasts and would bring him toast and coffee, but always added an orange juice to the order, insisting he needed some fruit.

One day when you allowed him to order his boring breakfast, as you’d dubbed it, you pulled the paper away from him, “I have to ask. Is the toast and coffee an indication of the other meals you eat? Because if you’re boiling your chicken, we are gonna have a serious problem.” Steve looked ashamed and you gaped at him, “Oh sweet Jesus! You boil your chicken!” You propped your head up with one hand, “It is flavor? Do you just hate things that taste good?”

“I am busy helping to run this town. I don’t have a lot of time on my hands.”

You looked incredulous, but perked up when you saw someone walk through the door. Steve could see the gears whirring in your head and knew this was not going to be good for him. “Officer Bucky, sir!” you waved him over, “I have a question for you! Answer it right and your meal is on me.”

The dark-haired man looked confused, but figured it didn’t hurt to try his hand at a free meal, “Alright, hit me.”

“What did you make for dinner last night?”

“Ciorba de Perisoare. It’s my mother's recipe for meatball soup. One of Nat’s favorites.”

You grinned victoriously at Steve and tapped the counter where there was a seat available, “That answer gets you one of those potato and cheese omelettes I know you love. Oh, and a slice of cherry pie.” You came back out with Bucky’s delicious looking breakfast and Steve’s sad toast and black coffee. The latter rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, begging God to give him strength to deal with the stubborn young woman who had captured his interest.

“Any chance you can tell me why I’m eating for free?” Bucky asked.

“I boil my chicken,” Steve grumbled.

“What?”

“You’re eating for free because I boil chicken.” Bucky just stared at Steve in disgust and confusion before turning back to his breakfast, shaking his head at the two clueless idiots.

It had been almost three months since you had moved to Lehigh. Once Bucky had told his wife about the pretty waitress at the diner that had ensnared Steve’s attention, Nat had made it her mission to befriend her. She had gone into the diner one day and chatted with you, inviting her to join her friends for a girl’s night. That had been the start of a beautiful friendship that had the redhead trying to sniff out what the feelings were between you and Steve.

At the diner, it had been a long day for you. It was nearly 4 in the afternoon and she was dead on her feet. Nat came flying into the diner, “Sugar, get your best outfit on! We are going out tonight.”

You shook her head at the amount of energy her friend had. All you wanted to do was finish your shift and go home to soak in the claw foot tub you’d just scrubbed clean the day before. You leaned against the counter putting on your best puppy dog eyes, “I have been on my feet since 6 o’clock this morning. The last thing I want to do is go out.”

“It’ll be an easy night, I promise,” Nat hopped onto one of the stools at the counter as you poured her a cup of coffee, decaf of course, “It’ll just be some drinks at the Hideout. Please? First round’s on me.”

You groaned and then nodded, “How could I ever say no to you? I get off in an hour. We getting ready at mine or yours?”

“Mine. I already told Buck that they could meet us there.”

“They?”

“Yeah… Bucky and Steve.”

“Nat, don't tell me this is some setup for a double date.”

The redhead gasped in outrage, “What you must think of me! I just want my friends and I to spend a night out together.” You raised an eyebrow at her friend. Nat held her hands up in defeat, “I promise. No more setups.”

You finished up the last hour of your shift and timed-out. When you walked out, Nat was waiting for her. She drove over to Bucky and her home and they started getting ready. This had become such a common occurrence for the two women that she had taken to leaving a pair of clothes at Nat’s for convenience.

You had opened a bottle of wine while they got ready and by the time the two men arrived, you both had dissolved into giggles. It had not gotten better as the group got to The Hideout. You and Nat were having a great time and the music started playing. The latter had pulled Bucky out of their booth to dance. Steve had slung his arm over the back of the booth and in your inebriated state, you didn’t notice how much either of you had curled against each other. Tucked comfortably in the booth, you people-watched. As the music transitioned into a slower one, he held out his hand, “Dance with me, Sugar?”

“I’d love to,” you laughed as he pulled her out onto the floor. Soon the music slowed, and you were swaying together. Steve had chatted away about his work and you were happy to listen to him speak so passionately. Eventually, you leaned your head against his broad chest, feeling his hand move underneath her shirt. His fingers grazed your lower back, sending shivers down your spine. You felt Steve’s heartbeat speed up and smiled softly to yourself. You weren’t alone the effects of being in such close contact. As the song ended, you lifted her head up and got sucked into his deep blue eyes. Just as you thought he was going to lean down and kiss you, the main door swung open and three women walked in. When Steve saw them, he cleared his throat and stepped back awkwardly. You were left feeling cold and confused as Steve walked away before you could ask him what was wrong. You moved to the bar, wondering if you’d just screwed everything up with that almost kiss. Steve had become the person you were closest to in town and without his company, the loneliness was sure to grow.

Throwing back a shot before heading to the bathroom, you needed a moment to clear her head. You stared into the mirror, wondering how you could fix your mistake. One of the stalls opened revealing one of the women that had come in. She washed her hands and fixed her lipstick before acknowledging you. The smile she gave didn’t reach her eyes. She spun around, “You’re Y/N, right? From the diner?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” you were not sober enough to remember if she’s ever been into your work before, “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.”

The blonde looked almost insulted that she wasn’t instantly recognized, “I’m Trish. Steve’s fiancée, Carly, is my best friend.”

You thought you were going to be sick right there on the floor, “Steve has a fiancée?”

“Oh yeah!” Trish explained, “It’s not official yet but she found the ring in his sock drawer a month ago. I’m sure that’s why he hasn’t mentioned it yet. But, it’s coming any day now”

“Right--,” you grabbed a paper towel and dried your hands quickly, “It was nice to meet you. I guess I should get back to my friend.” You hurried out of the bathroom and back to the booth, grabbing your purse and jacket. Thankfully, it seemed that Nat and Bucky were still occupied and you made a quick getaway.

The walk back home was only 20 minutes and as soon as the front door was shut, tears started to well in your eyes. You fanned your face, “Stop it. Stop it. He’s not yours.” Walking into the bathroom, you hated how much Steve had melded into your life. You’d brought paint samples into the diner one day and asked his opinion. Now, the color he picked seemed to mock you. How could she have been so stupid as to let this man in? Of course, he had a girlfriend, soon to be fiancé. Why would he want a waitress who forced her way into his life. God, I’m just a nag. You threw the towel against the wall and curled up in bed, letting yourself wallow in self-pity.

The next morning, Steve didn’t show up for breakfast. Every time the bell above the door chimed, your eyes jumped to see who it was and each time you cursed herself for being that way. Around lunchtime, Nat came in and looked upset. “Why did you leave without saying goodbye last night?”

You plastered on a fake, apologetic smile, “I started to feel sick and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“How did you get home?”

“I walked,” When Nat opened her mouth to scold her about being safer, you shook your head, “I know. I know. It was a stupid idea, but I was drunk. I promise I won’t do it again.”

The redhead nodded and then switched gears. A mischievous grin grew on her face, “You and Steve looked comfy on the dance floor last night.”

You scoffed as you turned to refill a coffee pot, “That’s never gonna happen.”

“But—“

You decided to be blunt, “I know about Carly.”

Nat looked confused, “And because of that you won’t give him a chance?”

“Definitely not. I’m kinda insulted that no one said anything to me.” A family walked in and sat in your section, “I have to get back to work. I’ll see you later.”

When you turned back to put the family’s order in, Nat was gone and it felt like a boulder was weighing on your chest.

It wasn’t until a week after that awful night that Steve deigned to come back to the diner. He looked like a child who’d just been told off by a parent. He took his usual seat at the counter and put his hand on top of yours when you came over, “I’m sorry about last week. Sugar, let me explain.”

You slid your hand out from under his and shook your head, “No need. I know the story now. I’m sorry if I gave off the wrong impression. Let’s just be glad nothing happened. I’ll bring your breakfast around.” When you brought him his meal, Steve felt sick to his stomach. There were no melon ball eyes, no bacon smile, not even a glass of orange juice. Just toast and a black coffee. You walked away before he could say a thing.

The food tasted like sand against his tongue and when he swallowed his last bite, he walked out and left the money on the counter without another word. As soon as he was out of sight, he pulled his cruiser onto the side of the road and threw up the “boring breakfast.” His temper was at an all-time high and he was shouting at everyone in the station. Finally, Bucky walked into his office and shut the door, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I fucked up and it’s unsolvable. I almost kissed Y/N last week, but Carly came in and I freaked out instead. You know how those women are and I thought that if they saw me with Y/N, they’d run her off. Turns out I was right. She said she’d heard enough and is glad that nothing has happened between us.”

Bucky was surprised to hear that. You had seemed too sweet to let something like Carly’s lies get to you. Especially without hearing Steve’s side. He ran a hand through his hair. “Damn, Punk.”

Things did not improve as the weeks went on. First, your greetings had slowed down in their enthusiasm and he missed being called Sheriff Stranger. Steve tried to catch your eye, but you quickly put the plate down and went to another table. Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your eyes weren’t as bright and he could see the makeup trying to hide how tired you were. Everything about Y/N was just off.

It was late that night when Steve swung around the back of the diner. The main parking lot was packed and he decided the back was easier. He saw a figure leaning against the wall and figured it was one of the waitresses on a smoke break. As he walked closer, Steve realized it was you and that you were asleep. You’d had walked out back for some air and had fallen asleep against the back wall. Steve shook you awake and you were embarrassed that you’d crashed like that. He pushed a strand of hair out of the way and you winced at the close contact. He pulled his hand back, “What’s going on, Y/N. Did something else happen?” You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. Steve hooked a finger under your chin and tilted your head up so that your eyes met his. He leaned down and kissed you, instantly making you dizzy. You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He moved closer until your back was against the brick, both of you intoxicated with the other.

You were interrupted by someone calling your name inside and you pulled away. With one look back, you hurried back inside. Steve ran a hand through his hair, a grin on his face. Maybe not all was lost if you kissed him back like that. You were the first person he’d been interested in since he’d ended things with Carly. After they’d broken up, she was so angry that she told anyone who would listen about how he couldn’t get it up and was all-around disappointing. One of the downsides of living in a small town was that once something was out, everyone knew. Since their breakup, Steve had been too worried to even try and date someone else. Suddenly, you’d shown up in a hail of melon balls and paint samples and the idea of trying again wasn’t quite so terrifying.

You had gone home that night, the kiss seared in your mind. It felt like you’d just closed your eyes when your alarm went off. It was a rough morning and you were nursing a cup of coffee when you saw Steve, Bucky, and Nat arrive and sit in one of the booths in your section. You groaned when you saw the shit-eating grins on all their faces and walked over to the table, “Morning. What’ll it be?” Bucky and Nat quickly put in their order and then you turned to the blond.

“Waffles.”

You just stared at Steve and slowly brought one hand up to his face. He cheered internally when he felt your cool hand on his forehead, “You don’t have a fever. Are you dying?”

Both Bucky and Nat were dying on the other side of the table. Steve didn’t take his eyes off of you, “Ha. Ha. You’re on me all the time to try something different; so I am.”

The smile that crossed Y/N’s face made it all worth it. She said nothing else, worried he’d change his mind. She put the order in and went to check on her other tables. The minute his breakfast was ready, Y/N brought it over to him, “I won’t force the orange juice on you today. So, your coffee is on me.”

“Sugar, you don’t need to do that. If I didn’t want the waffles I wouldn’t have ordered them.” Nat saw the smile falter at the pet name and decided she was going to get you to talk before she left.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m in charge of your bill. Just say thank you and tell me I’m right.”

“Thank you.”

You tried to stay busy as the trio ate, but you squeaked as Nat came out of nowhere and dragged you into the bathroom, “Spill.” You stammered as you tried to figure out what to say. “I know you and Steve kissed, but when he called you Sugar you looked like you were dying inside. Are you really so shallow that you’re going to let one little rumor from a heinous girlfriend ruin this chance?”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m honestly super pissed off that you’d try and set me up with an engaged guy just because you don’t like his fiancee.”

“Who’s fiancee?”

“Steve’s!”

“Steve doesn’t have a fiancee.”

It felt like all the air had deflated from you, “What?

“Steve’s not engaged to Carly. Never was. They broke up over a year ago.”

“I don’t understand. Why would her friend tell me that?”

“Because Carly is a psycho bitch hates to see Steve happy. After they broke up, she told everyone that his little friend was less than great and he sucked in bed. Everyone in town has been talking about the two of you and how cute you guys are. You’re the first woman that he’s gotten the courage to any show interest in since it all happened.

“That…” You couldn’t believe you’d been trapped in such a lie, “BITCH! How could she do that to Steve? He’s like the sweetest guy ever!”

“He thought you’d heard the rumors and that’s why you pulled away.” You were so confused and just stood there. Nat smacked you on the arm, “Well, go out there! Kiss him and tell him that you're both idiots. Go!”

You were practically gnawing at your bottom lip, your stomach in knots. You walked up to the table, “Steve, could we talk?”

“Of course, Sugar.”

Your eyes slid over to Bucky, “Outside?” You grabbed his hand and dragged him out the front door. You bounced your leg as you tried to figure out how to start this, “Um--so--you see--I--.”

“Y/N?”

“Fuck it,” You threw caution to the wind and hooked your finger into Steve’s belt loop, pulling him in for a kiss. He buried his hands in your hair, his tongue tangling with yours. He pulls away, both of you trying to catch your breath. His eyebrows were furrowed and vulnerability and fear shone in his eyes. “I am an idiot,” you blurted out.

“I’m just not quite sure what’s going on. We don’t talk for like two weeks and then I kissed you and you ran away and now you’re kissing me again.”

“I thought you were engaged.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, I know that now. Nat explained everything to me. The actual story. I have half a mind to burn down that bitch, Carly’s, house.”

Steve laughed and wrapped an arm around your waist, “I really don’t want to have to arrest you for arson.”

“Technically, it'll be attempted murde--,” He leaned down and kissed you again, shutting you up. You pulled back and smiled up at him. “I’m taking you out tonight. I’ll tell Nat to come by your place to help you get ready.” You couldn’t help but giggle at how well he knew you.

You turned to walk back into the diner and found every patron plastered against the windows watching you. “Somehow, I think she might already know, Stranger.” Steve just smiled at you and laced your finger together, walking back into the diner where it all began.

#avengers au #avengers imagine #toomanyrobins #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers au #steve rogers #avengers

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

Is this seat empty? " Yes and this one will be too if you sit down" , "Don't be like that my love."

For MLB!Harry first stupid fight in a relationship 😂

Okay this turned into something entirely different then the prompt. Sorry anon 😂

—

Peace & Quiet (Please)

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I write for free so if you enjoy my work please consider donating to my kofi page.

“Where d’you put m’protein mix?” Harry asks, padding into the kitchen and opening every single fucking cabinet.

“It’s in the same place it’s been for the past five years,” YN bites out with a slight irritation, mixing the pancake batter a little rougher.

She’s been up since three in the morning and Harry sauntered in around six-thirty after coming home late from a baseball game last night.

All the babies still asleep.

“Ah - fuck,” Her husband huffs when he spills the powder all over the countertop and floor she had just swiffered ten minutes ago.

When he goes to open the other cabinet and grab for a shaker bottle - they all come tumbling out onto the floor in a loud clash.

“Could you be any louder? You going to wake up the kids!” YN scolds harshly, pointing to the closet, “Go get the swiffer.”

He obliges - surprised by her attitude, grabbing it and slapping it (by accident) on the ground like a fucking baseball bat, the head of the mop snapping off and breaking.

“S’broken,” Harry states the obvious, shrugging and going about peeling a banana before leaving the peel near the sink.

YN turns to face him, voice irritated, “I’m about to break you, just like you broke the swiffer.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He asks cheekily but her glare tells him there is no amusement to be had this morning.

“I just spent all morning cleaning and you’ve made this place a disaster already!” His wife bites before flipping one of the pancakes.

Harry dejectedly cleans up his protein mix mess, neatly places the shake bottles into the right place, throws away the peel, and closes all the cabinets.

“M’sorry,” He murmurs, coming up behind her and kisses the nape of her neck, “Y’seem a bit cranky this mornin’.”

And man. He should have not said that.

“Do you have a baby who needs to fucking feed from your body every hour even during the night? I don’t think so,” She mutters, shaking him off of her.

“Hey, mama. M’bein’ an ass, what can I do to help?” He changes gears, choosing to stand next to her since she didn’t seem to want to be touch.

“Breastfeed - let your nipples feel like their constantly on fire and about to fall off. Make all this post-partum bleeding stop. Let me sleep for a day straight. I don’t know,” YN begins to sniffles, plating a few mini pancakes.

He’s taken aback, eyebrows furrowing in concern, and he leans forward to flip off the stovetop, “Can I touch you?”

She nods, wiping her eyes, and allows him to haul her up into their marble countertop, “Mama, y’need to tell me when y’feeling overwhelmed? Please baby. I’ve asked you a million times to wake me up and I can bottle feed her.”

“No, she…I have to feed her. It helps bonding and it-“

Harry interrupts firmly, “She will be perfectly fine being fed by a bottle a few times a day. You’re putting too much stress on yourself.”

Her head falls on his shoulder and she mumbles, “I just feel so…gross, not attractive at all.”

He pulls her back, searching her face in confusion, “Baby, why would you ever say somethin’ like that?”

YN let’s out a quiet sob, “My nipples are chafed and sore, I’m constantly bleeding, my belly hasn’t deflated -“

Harry can’t help but lean in and connect their lips harshly, he’s pulling her loose shirt up and over her head.

“Harry, what-“

“Listen t’me,” Harry rasps seriously, his hands are tender and careful as they cup her swollen breasts - thumbing at her painful nubs.

“I’m literally obsessed w’your tits, baby. They’ll go back to normal after y’done feeding and even if they don’t - I love them just as fucking much. You fed our three healthy strong boys and now you’re makin’ sure our chunky little girl is eating good.”

Then he hands move to cup her belly, large hands splayed over the still softening, firm bump from where Briar had been housed for nine months.

“Y’gave me four, four fuckin’ babies from this belly. I’m fucking in love with your body. God, y’thighs, y’tummy, the stretchmarks - fuck, getting me hard just lookin’ at you.”

It was true, he was stiffening up in his shorts but neither of them acknowledged it - it was a love boner more than anything else.

He literally got hard from how much he loved her.

“I’m tired,” She sighs softly, letting Harry tug her shirt back on as the children would be waking up soon to eat breakfast.

“I know, mama,” Harry acknowledges softly, giving her another kiss before taking over the pancake station.

When all the boys are downstairs and chomping away on their food, Cash, who is just about four decides it’ll be funny to squirt the sticky syrup all over their expensive stool cushions and the floor.

When YN turns from the sink to see the mess, she admits she snaps a little bit, “Really Harry? You’re supposed to be watching them, not checking the sports news on your phone!”

Harry is about to defend himself but his wife is stomping over to where Cash has emptied the bottle and gives him a firm look, “Cash Edward Styles, get your bum upstairs, right now.”

Cash’s eyes widen, his mother rarely needed to use a harsh tone with them, “Mama, I’m so-“

“If you are not upstairs, by the bathtub this instant, you get no outside time today. Do you understand me?” YN tells him, giving Easton a warning look when he licks at the syrup on his finger.

“Yes mama,” Cash squeaks out sadly, abandoning his plate and walking up towards the bathroom upstairs to get clean.

Easton and Ezra are dead silent as they watch their brother leave - not wanting the same fate as him so they sit proper.

“Sweetheart-“ Harry begins, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“No, I have my hands full taking care of four kids. I don’t need you acting like a fifth. Go bathe your son,” YN tells him coldly, an angry stare directed his way.

Harry clenches his jaw, biting his tongue as he stands up and pushes his chair in with force - making a loud noise before following after his second son.

A few minutes after they’re out of sight, Easton thought it’d be funny to wipe syrup down Ezra’s cheek which made Ezra cry and throw a pancake at his older brother - now soaking him in syrup.

YN starts to leak milk at the sound of Ezra’s cries.

“Easton Robin - get you butt upstairs this instant too. You know better - no outside time today,” She informs him as she uses a wet wipe to clean Ezra’s cheek.

“Mama,” Easton whines, fat tears starting roll down his cheeks as he stands up, loitering by the kitchen stool.

“Do not make me repeat myself,” YN warns, swiping a paper towel over the wet spot on her shirt from the leak.

Harry had just started washing up Cash who was still melancholy when his blubbering older one comes in - still tearful.

He sighs, looking at his syrupy son, “Wha’ happened?”

Easton looks hesitant, “I put syrup on Ezzie and mama said no outside time today.”

His father is tight-lipped, he can already predict that Easton’s actions upset Ezra, “Alright, c’mon. Let’s clean y’up too. Y’know better, Easton.”

Harry had just finished helping both boys dress when YN appears in the doorway with Ezra who has a binkie popped in his mouth.

She steps over and hands their son to Harry before muttering, “I’m going to feed Briar, keep the boys out of the room. I need some peace.”

YN disappears from the room before he can even reply to her.

Harry can admit he gets distracted when one of his coaches calls him up for a game change, doesn’t notice when Cash sneaks from the playroom.

It’s less than five minutes later when YN leads Cash gently by the hand back into the playroom, with Briar still latched and feeding.

When she sees Harry on his phone, she’s fucking livid with him.

“Really Harry?” His wife scoffs, guiding Cash to join Easton in where he’s playing with legos.

“I’ll call you back,” Harry replies to his coach before hanging up, “Sorry, it was Donny-“

“Good to know your job is more important than watching your kids,” She spits out before storming back out of the room.

Harry is up and following behind her, jaw clenched and irritated, “Just ‘cause you’re in a pissy mood doesn’t mean that y’say shit like that.”

She turns on her heel, eyes fiery, “You have no god damn consideration. You’ve been swamped this week because of your nike promotion and games. I’ve had the babies all by myself for four nights while you get to gallivant around!”

Harry goes to speak but she puts her free hand up.

“I ask for you to keep our house clean and to let me have one moment of peace with our daughter but you don’t even let me have that! You do not understand how hard it is to push a baby out of you and then have them rely on you to feed them twenty times a day!”

His anger fades when his wife starts sobbing - chest shuddering sobs, “I just had her four weeks ago. I-I haven’t had a break yet. You act like it’s so easy!”

He starts to walk towards her, “Sweetheart-“

YN shakes her head, a desperate plea in her tone, “Please just give me time with Briar.”

Harry swallows harshly and nods - feeling like shit as his wife walks back towards the stairs - all the while still feeding their daughter.

“Hello?”

“Mum, I-can you take the boys for the night?” Harry asks quietly, standing in the kitchen while the two older boys are still playing quietly.

Ezra’s passed out, on Harry’s hip with his little face smushed against the cap of his shoulder with parted lips.

“Dear, is everything okay?” She replies cautiously.

“No, I-I don’t know. YN is overwhelmed and I don’t think I’ve been supportive enough,” Harry feels himself begin to sniffle.

Anne doesn’t pry for information which Harry loves about her, she agrees to take them, and states she’ll be over within the hour.

Harry goes about packing their pajamas and other necessities in their little backpacks as the squeal excitedly about going to Nana’s.

“Can we say bye to mama?” Easton asks anxiously as they clear out of their bedrooms.

“Let me go ask,” He murmurs, running a hand through his son’s curls.

When he cracks open the door, YN is sprawled out on her back, fast asleep with Briar also asleep in the bassinet next to the bed.

His heart aches because her shirt is off, and the remnants of her nipple cream which was a pinkish orange color wasn’t fully rubbed in on her bruised breasts.

Harry guides them downstairs, promising that their mama will call them later.

After the boys leave, Harry doesn’t know what to do so he cleans whatever he finds that is dirty or messy so she won’t have to.

He does all the laundry in the house, cleans up every single toy, and when Briar starts to whimper - he sneaks in to snatch her up so she doesn’t wake YN.

Then he takes her out to the shops with him to grab groceries, her favorite snacks, and maybe he does stop by a jewelry store and buy her something nice.

(casually a pair of 20k earrings)

YN fell asleep around eighty-thirty in the morning and doesn’t wake up until about nine at night, Harry had put Briar in her nursery about an hour ago.

When she does awake, Harry is sitting in the living room - watching a stupid action movie to pass time and dwell on everything.

She comes in quietly, stands in front of her husband who looks up at her with anxious eyes - she looks brighter now that she’s had adequate sleep.

“Will you hold me?” She rasps quietly, just in one of Harry’s shirts and soft pair of sleep shorts.

“Never haven t’ask, mama,” He murmurs, guiding her until she’s straddling his lap and burying her face into the crook of his neck.

His hands sneak beneath her shirt to massage the sleep-warm skin as he kisses her shoulder - over and over again.

“I’m so sorry,” YN whispers into his skin, voice croaky as she tries to not get upset.

He pulls her back to study her face, “Do not apologize, y’allowed to get mad at me and feel frustrated. You’re emotions are valid. There’s a lot going on and I could be doing more to help.”

YN wipes a tear that trickles down as she laughs in disbelief, “No, you can’t do anymore to help.”

“Wha-? I can, I promis-“

She interrupts his with a kiss before telling him sincerely, “You can’t do anymore help because you’re already doing the most amazing job. As a husband and dad. I was just tired and stressed - it’s not an excuse.”

It warms his heart, he fucking loves her so much it does make sense, has to button their lips together one more time.

“You have a really hard job too, on top of being a husband and dad. You give us all this, support us and take care of us.”

“Are y’kidding me? Y’the one who keeps this family together. Y’the fuckin’ love of my life, you know that? I love you so much, so so much,” He emphasizes, rubbing a thumb across her bottom lip.

The kiss one more time - the anger was subsided and they were okay once again.

Harry laughs and agree when YN murmurs, “S’time for bed again, m’tired.”

“Okay mama, anythin’ for you,” He responds before peppering her in kisses to make her giggle lightly.

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

If you are still taking meet ugly prompts, sternclay 22 nsfw???

Here you go!

22: you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship.

Note: I interpreted "first date" loosely. Slight content warning for mentions of blackmail, including blackmailing someone into a relationship.

It’s hard to tell where the sting of gin on his tongue ends and the sharpness of the pines through the window begins. The combination would invigorate him were it not for the conversation playing out at the other end of the short bar.

“...Last time, I’m not leaving.” The bartender, a mountain of a man who Joseph would love to climb, has been dealing with a persistent suitor for the better part of an hour. They’re the only people in the place; ski season is far behind them and summer isn’t here yet.

“C’mon, you’ve got no reason to hang around.”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” The bartender finishes cleaning glasses, turns to put them up.

“Don’t you fucking turn your back on me! I’m not through with you, oughta drag you outta here by your hair you cheap, dull-”

The next word is an unkind name for men who, like Joseph, prefer men in their beds. The bartender doesn’t respond, though his hands tighten around the glasses. Damn it, the world did not go for a second war just for him to let everyday evil slide by.

“That’s enough.” Joseph stands, moving to where the other patron wobbles on his stool, “him being uninterested doesn’t give you the right to abuse him.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, pretty boy.”

“I know that if you don’t leave, I’ll escort you out.”

The man throws up his hands, spits at Joseph’s feet before stumbling and stomping for the door, “Three years, Barclay, you’re throwing away three years in one night, and you’re gonna regret it. I’ll make sure you do!”

“Don’t think you will.” Barclay mumbles as the door slams. He’s twisting his dishrag to the point it’s ripping.

“Three years? Good lord, I thought he was just a run-of-the-mill drunk.”

“Nope. If you can call him tracking me down every few months a relationship.”

“I’m sorry.” Joseph pulls out his handkerchief, kneeling to clean up the spit, “still, I apologize for getting in the middle of a, um, lovers quarrel.”

“Please don’t, I’m glad you stepped in. Don’t know what I woulda done if you hadn’t.” His brown eyes study Joseph more closely, “have I seen you here before?”

“Through there.” He indicates the pass-through to the kitchen, “I come here as often as I can since the food can’t be beat.”

“Thanks.” Barclay smiles, starts wiping the counter, “yeah, Dani usually tends bar after the kitchen closes but her wife is down with the flu. Only seemed fair to let her take time to look after her.”

A big heart to go with a big frame? Joseph’s in big trouble.

“You, uh, you up here for the lakes or…” He’s now directly across from Joseph, sliding a fresh gin and tonic in front of him.

“I’m a private detective, a one man operation as of 1949; Kepler’s the optimal spot for me, since it’s between the mountain towns and the eastern edge of the city. That’s a lot of people who might need help. Not to mention lots of the residents closer to the lakes are wealthy, the kind where they’re always looking for someone to trail a straying spouse or track down the pearls their no-good layabout son sold for dope.” He lets a little bit of scorn enter his voice in hopes of letting Barclay know he doesn’t always agree with his clients, but that a man has to make a living.

Barclay rolls his shoulders, then leans forward, “any fun cases so far?”

Joseph pulls off his jacket as he thinks; if Barclay’s really interested, they might be here awhile.

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

He’s an early riser, so the banging on the door to his house (and office) interrupts his breakfast and not his rest. Joseph opens it and then fights to keep it that way.

“Detective Hayes. This is a surprise.” He smiles.

“I’m not here to catch up, Stern. I’m here so you can answer one, simple question: where were you between eleven-thirty and midnight last night?”

“In the dining room at Amnesty Lodge, talking with the bartender. If you need to verify that, just go to the Lodge and ask for Barclay.”

Hayes glowers in a way he recognizes as, “this won’t be an easy case like I assumed” and turns without a word. Two officers follow him. The third, Dewey, hesitates. He’d always been a pal. Joseph shoots him a confused look.

“Guy got shot in the woods near the Lodge last night. His only known contact in town was the bartender, and everyone else we questioned said the two had been arguing for a few days. Hayes thought the cook was a shoo-in to book but, well, his alibi aligns with what you said. Plus, some ranger Owens talked to said he saw Barclay talking to someone in the dining room at the time of the murder. Guess he was walking by the window on his way to-”

“Dewey! Get the hell over here!”

As his informant scurries up the hill to join the others, Joseph steps back inside to finish his toast. He only gets through one piece before the phone rings, summoning him to the managers office at Amnesty Lodge.

Madeline “Mama” Cobb sits behind her desk, whittling with the kind of force that suggests she’s doing this in place of putting her knife to another use.

“Barclay tells me you’re a detective.”

“That’s right, Miss. Cobb.”

“Great. I’m hirin’ you to find out who the hell killed his useless ex and is tryin to frame him for it.”

He sits down, intrigued, “I thought the police were handling the investigation.”

“I ain’t inclined to trust ‘em. Barclay can’t think of someone who’d set him up, and the police don’t think he was. Yet. But I happen to know there were scraps of a shirt Barclay owns on the trees nearby and that the fella who died had this on him.”

She holds a crumpled paper out. He unfolds it, reads, “Come to the old mill at a quarter until midnight. B.” He looks up, “meant to stand for Barclay, one would assume?”

“Yep. Whoever wrote that did a decent job forgin it.”

“How can you be sure it’s fake?”

“Because I got plenty of documents where Barclay describes a time. He just uses numbers, not words like ‘quarter until.”

“Did you suspect a set-up before you lifted this from the body so the cops wouldn’t find it?” Joseph tucks the note into his inside pocket.

“Course I did. You’re new in town, but there ain’t a person here who’d say Barclay is anythin but gentle. He ain’t about to shoot someone in cold blood, even that fucker.” She sighs, takes off her hat and runs a hand through greying hair, “that boy is as good as a brother to me. I know he’s been through some rough shit. He don’t deserve to get caught up in some goddamn murder scheme. So name your price, Mr. Stern; so long as it keeps him outta trouble, I’ll pay it.”

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

He’s elbow-deep in Barclay’s dresser when the cook returns from his shift; he gave Joseph permission to search his room for signs of whoever took his shirt, but still, the other man doesn’t seem pleased with his presence.

“I’m sorry, but I have to be thorough. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can.”

“S’fine.” Barclay slumps down on the bed. After a moment he murmurs, “I know Mama hired you, but is there anyway I can convince you to quit? She, the Lodge doesn’t have much cash to spare this time of year. I don’t want anyone going without on my account and, and maybe this will all blow over if I just lie low, y’know?”

“It might. But until I think that’s the outcome, I’m inclined to agree with Miss. Cobb that we should work to keep you clear of this. And” he watches Barclay stand, moving to the window so he won’t have to see Joseph rifling through his life, “I promise that if it comes down to getting paid or bankrupting the Lodge, I’ll stop taking my fee. This is a good place and, um, it clearly means a lot to you. That makes it worth some belt-tightening on my end.”

“Thanks.” Barclay stares into the woods, then looks over his shoulder, “Joseph, I-”

It’s only because the mirror is above the dresser that he sees the black barrel peek from the trees. With no time to yell, he dives forward, pulling Barclay to the floor as the first bullet makes shards of the window.

“What the fuck?!” Barclay covers his head as another shot flies over them

“I think we just confirmed Miss. Cobb’s theory!” He pops up, fires once, and drops back down. Whoever’s in the trees isn’t expecting someone armed, so in place of another bullet they get breaking branches.

Joseph gives chase, leaping out the window and sprinting into the trees. Were they in downtown L.A, hell, even if he was still in Chicago, he’d have a better chance of staying on his target. But there’s no paths, no short-cuts, and every tree looks the same at this speed, cloaking the shape in the distance. Worst of all, he discovers that instead of dead-ending at a brick wall, he dead ends at a rockface.

Oh, and his hand is bleeding. He must have cut himself jumping out the window.

It looks like his investigation just took on a bodyguard element, and his wish to spend more time with Barclay could end with them both looking like swiss cheese.

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

“You could talk to Duck.” Barclay finishes bandaging the slash on the back of Joseph’s left hand, “he works in the state park near here and knows a ton about the layout of the woods. There, not too tight?” He sits back on his heels as Joseph tests the tightness of the bandage.

“It’s great, big guy. Um, I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

“I don’t mind it” he winks, “pretty boy.”

His visit with Duck the next day, while informative, doesn’t give him much insight into how their assailant disappeared, especially when Duck points out that the rock face he ran across is over a mile long and hard to climb without equipment or a death wish. At least the ranger outfits him with a map with written-in details; most are about trails that are likely to be muddy (and thus hold prints) or spots where a person might be able to hide. And some hike recommendations, just because.

He tries not to think about taking Barclay on the one to a secluded lake and fucking him under the stars.

His schedule alternates between sitting in his office taking and making calls, shadowing Barclay when he’s out on errands or otherwise vulnerable (he’s spent more than a few nights on the floor of his room, that velvety baritone talking to him until they both fall asleep), and scouring the woods for clues.

A jay heckles a squirrel, which surrenders it’s pinecone and scrambles along the rocks. He’s wishing he could be so nimble when it climbs up and then...disappears. Following it, he discovers what he dismissed as endless rock is an optical illusion; the rocks above and behind align with the ones in front and below to make it seem as if it’s a flat face. But when he climbs over the bottom rock, he finds a narrow slot canyon. One big enough for a human.

Fifteen minutes of granite scratching his back later, he’s at the other side of the rocks. Smoke curls up his nose, and he trails the scent to a cabin which, according to Duck, is on a strange pocket of private property, just up a frontage road. Stranger still is the sign out front.

I.C All

Tarot, Palm Reading, and Other Psychic Services.

He knocks as wind chimes sing lazily around him.

“Come in!”

The first room is divided by a curtain, the half he’s in a rather eclectic waiting room. The dining room and kitchen are probably on the other side of the pink and yellow cloth.

Waiting for him in the next room is a man with a distinctly beatnik air about him, from his red glasses down to his brightly colored shawl and shoulder length hair. Laid out before him is a tarot deck, crystal ball, and several black candles. But that’s not what concerns Joseph.

“Before I sit down, can you ask your friend hiding in the bureau to come out?”

“Fuck” the beaura hisses, “uh, I mean, uh, there ain’t, uh, fuck-”

“It’s alright dearest, I suspect we may all benefit from this.” He gestures for Joseph to sit, “Apologies, but my hope was you were either a client I could turn away or one in search of a brief reading that I could perform before returning to more...pleasurable activities.” He grins as none other than Duck Newton steps from the creaky wooden bureau, looking like he’s been wrestling a very amorous tiger.

“Afternoon, Joe.” Duck sits on the nearby couch, “didn’t take you for the fortune tellin’ type.”

“I’m more interested in whether Mr…”

“Cold, but my friends call me Indrid.”

“Whether Indrid has noticed anyone coming and going on his property without permission?”

“I can’t say that I have, though it’s hard to do so; the walkway is guarded by Beacon, our dog, and everything but the walk up to the cabin is fenced off or, well, a massive wall of rock.”

“...Come with me.”

Soon, Duck is studying the slot canyon while Indrid worries his lower lip.

“I had no idea this was here.”

“No one did. It ain’t on any of the maps, and I never heard of anyone findin it on accident.” Duck pulls back, popping his hat on as he turns to Joseph, “this got somethin to do with Barclay?”

“I think whoever shot at us used this to get away. For all we know, the person who killed Mr. Douglas did the same.”

“To think, I encouraged Barclay to come here even more often once he told me his predicament; I thought no one could approach us without me seeing them coming. No, no this will not do at all” he shakes his head, “he needs to go see her.”

“You know he won’t, sugar.”

“He must. It’s the safest place for him. And the last anyone will look.”

Joseph looks between them, but before he can ask Indrid simply says, “You should ask Barclay about the Greenbank House. That story isn’t ours to tell.”

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

“Home sweet home.” Barclay grumbles as he and Joseph step out of the car and into the shadow of a mansion in the most exclusive neighborhood in Lakeshore. It took all of his friends telling him he should go--and Joseph assuring him it’s location meant it wouldn’t look like he was trying to run away from the scene of the murder--for the cook to agree to a stay at his family home.

“What are you afraid of?” Joseph keeps his tone gentle as they climb the front steps. His friend had simply said he had unhappy memories of the house and would rather live in a mausoleum then stay there.

“It’s more dread. You’ll see when we get inside.” He knocks on the front door. It’s opened by the least congruous face imaginable; a man with greying hair and a groundskeepers clothes. When he sees Barclay, a smile bursts across his face.

“Barclay! How are you kiddo?”

“I’m...I’m okay. It’s good to see you Thacker.” He offers a genuine smile as he opens his arms and gathers the older man into a hug. When they separate, Joseph offers his hand and introduces himself. Having an extra guest delights Thacker, and he ushers them in with a promise that he’ll have rooms ready to go in a jiff.

“How’s Maddie doin’?”

“She’s good, and she’ll still slug your arm for that nickname.”

“Good old Maddie.” Thackers cheer falters, “do you wanna go see your ma? If I didn’t know you were comin, gonna guess she didn’t neither.”

“Yeah. Yeah I should go see her. Joseph, you don’t, uh, you don’t need to come with me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s only polite to meet my hostess.”

Barclay leads him up a flight of stairs, then down a hallway where dust substitutes for walllpaper. Waiting for them in a red and orange toned bedroom is a woman with greying, black hair and a face not unlike Barclay’s.

“Dear heart” she rises from her armchair, drawing her son to her, “you came back.”

“Just to visit, Ma. Uh, this, this is Joseph. He’s a friend of mine. He’ll be staying here too.”

She studies him with a critical eye; Joseph thought Hayes had a judgemental gaze, but she could beat him any day.

“Hmm. The more the merrier, as she always said. How long will you stay?”

“A few weeks.”

She nods, regards the photo of another woman above the mantelpiece as if seeking council, “You’re not here for pleasure.”

“No.” Barclay rubs his arm, “I...I got into some trouble. Andrew Douglas was shot the night I broke things off with him. The cops are leaving me alone for now but someone else wants me dead.”

The woman’s face suggests she both recognizes and despises that name, “We will keep you safe.”

With that, she sits once more and picks up her book. Barclay hesitates, then bends to kiss her forehead before pulling Joseph from the room.

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

“How long ago did your mother die?” Joseph kicks his legs up onto the ottoman. Barclay alluded to her passing previously, but never gave details.

“When I was eighteen. Car accident. She went off the Kepler bridge. They, uh, they never found her, and just found part of the wreck.”

He intends to leave it there; they’re on the back porch overlooking the garden (“Thackers pride and joy”), early summer dusk on their skin and their arms occasionally brushing from the edges of their chairs. No need to kill the mood further. He just wanted some kind of context for the house and the widow within it.

“Ma never recovered. She loved mom so much that losing her was like losing a lung; she can get through her days, even enjoy them, but it will always be hard. She tried to keep mom around however she could; the whole goddamn house is the same as it was the day she died, even my room. She wanted me to stay too, but Mama offered me the job and I just...I couldn’t live in a haunted house anymore.”

Joseph tips his hand to the right, extending his fingers into the space between them. Barclay takes it and holds tight.

“I’m so sorry, Barclay. You had every right to leave, to make your own life.”

“I know.” He runs his thumb across Joseph’s knuckles, “okay, pretty boy, my turn for a tough question; why’d you really leave the police force.”

It’s not that tough a question, not when he knows the man he’s confiding in won’t go running to Hayes, “I joined the force because I wanted to solve mysteries and help people. But it turned out there was a lot less seeking justice and a lot more chasing off drunks who just needed a place to sleep off benches and harassing certain neighborhoods. Then I worked out that the chief was taking bribes from all kinds of places and was naive enough to think someone might listen to me and help me when I told them. Instead they threw me off the force. In hindsight, it could have been worse; they could have killed me and covered it up.”

“Jesus.” Barclay polishes off his drink, contemplates the ice, “glad they didn’t. Both because, y’know, world is better with you alive, but, uh, also because if they had we’d never have met.”

Joseph meets his eyes, smiling in a way that makes the other man blush, “that would’ve been a damn shame.”

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

This is turning into one of the stranger cases he’s worked, in good ways and bad. The good is that his work days, when he’s not on the phone or digging through his notes, are spent with Barclay. His friend insists on cooking, has even brought him lunch at his desk, and usually the two of them have dinner with Thacker in the garden. They read or play chess in the study, take walks through the labyrinthine grounds, and even swim in the open air pool. Barclay in his swim trunks is a fine sight indeed. Joseph wonders if he ever brought boyfriends here, ever kissed them in the blue water or let them have their way with him in some hidden patch of lawn.

But it’s not all roses and revelry. The more he roots around in Andrew Douglas’s past, and in Barclay’s, the more questions he has. Why did Andrew come and go? What happened to large portions of Raquel and Sylvia (Barclay’s parents) fortune? And who wants to kill someone with no criminal record, no known enemies, and no heirs? If it’s the same person who murdered Andrew, killing Barclay would remove their fall-guy, so that makes no sense as a move.

His best lead comes when he learns Barclay’s family and Andrew Douglas lived in San Francisco at the same time. A friend in the city agrees to do some sniffing around there for any information that might point towards their killer. Two days later, he calls back and says he’s sending Joseph a “fucking brick” of evidence in the mail.

It’s been several days and he’s still waiting. He dozed off in his room after dinner, intending to cat nap, but it seems he’s overshot; it’s after ten. At least the mail must have come by now.

“Barclay? Did anything come--you have five goddamn seconds to explain yourself.”

His friend stammers from his seat on the bed, surrounded by papers, photo’s, newsprint, and a manila envelope with Joseph’s name on it.

“I, uh, I, it isn’t-”

“This is all evidence collected for the purpose of protecting you, so if you have something you’re afraid of me finding you’d better start talking now.” He snaps, looming over the other man from the edge of the bed.

Wordlessly, Barclay hands him a piece of newspaper. It details a kidnapping, one that ends--happily--with the victim being returned to their family. Four names are mentioned, but none of the perpetrators are the man in front of him.

“I was sixteen. A stupid kid. I had this perfect life and I got a little stir crazy, a little bored, and fell in with some other rich kids who felt the same. It started out harmless. Then James, the guy in charge, decided we should dream bigger. I was so, so fucking in love with him, I didn’t try to stop him. Not right away, anyway. I...I was their look-out for that kidnapping. But I couldn’t let them keep it up.”

“You struck a deal.”

Barclay nods, “Best part is, I managed to do it without either of my parents getting wise. We moved here soon after. I thought I could put it behind me.”

Joseph takes a closer look at the paper. The byline for the article is one A. Douglas.

“He blackmailed you.”

“Not at first. He, he” Barclay takes a shaky breath, “he went to mom first. Asked her how much she’d pay to keep my name out of the papers. James had told him about me and he was going to spread the story. That’s why she was on that fucking bridge in the middle of a fucking storm; she was meeting him.”

“Oh, Barclay.” Evidence crumples under his knees as he sits to comfort his friend.

“Then he came to me; now not only was I paying to keep the story quiet, I was paying to keep him from telling Ma why Mom died.”

“She died because of a blackmailer, wet cement, and a weak guard rail. Not because of you.”

Barclay looks at him, eyes coffee cups of sorrow, and simply shakes his head. Then he crumples forward and Joseph catches him, holds him tight while he finishes his story through his tears.

He paid off Andrew for three years. Ned Chicane, owner of the Kepler Museum of Curiosities, helped him with the family accounts so Raquel wouldn’t notice anything suspicious. Whenever Andrew came around, he demanded Barclay act as his “boyfriend” for the duration of the visit.

“Everyone must think I have terrible taste in men.”

Once they establish that, as far as Barclay is aware, only Ned knows about the blackmail, Joseph cups his face and says, as firmly as gentleness allows, “From now on, I need you to be truthful with me. You said you didn’t want me putting the pieces together because you were ashamed, but all I want is to help you. I can’t do that if there are big things you’re hiding from me. Understand?”

Barclay nods, and apologizes the entire time they’re gathering the strewn pieces back into the envelope.

“Barclay?” Joseph cuts him off and eases him down until he’s on his back, “I forgive you. Now please go to sleep before you pass out from stress.”

The cook smiles at him, eyes already fluttering closed, “You’re the boss, Joseph.”

He ignores all the urges that kickstarts in him and leaves his friend to sleep in peace.

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

“Y’know, kind of wish we’d known each other back then.” Barclay looks up from where he’s helping Joseph sort the new evidence on the floor, “when I was in San Francisco, I mean.”

“It would have taken more than just a change of scene for me; my family does alright, but I’d have been way outside your circles.”

“So? Maybe then I coulda had a boyfriend who was ‘disreputable’ for bullshit reasons instead of real ones.”

“I’ve never once been disreputable.” He looks up from the photos in his hand, “and is that your way of telling me something, big guy.”

“Yes. I, uh, you can tell me to knock it off, but I, uh, I think you’re swell. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way but you said I should be…” he trails off as Joseph leans into his space,”honest.”

He kisses him once, so brief it barely counts but the larger man whimpers and tries to grab him before he pulls away.

“If we’re going to do this, I need you to promise me that you’ll tell me to hit the brakes if you need to; it won’t change my dedication to the case.”

“I promise.” There’s no dishonesty in his face, just boundless hope and affection.

“In that case, big guy” he lunges forward, pinning him to the rug, “you’re all mine.”

An unexpectedly high whine leaves his lover.

“You like when I’m rough?”

“Uh, uh huh, so much, people always want me to be and I don’t want to, wanna be, wanna beAHHHhhnnn” he arches his back as Joseph bites the patch of skin just below his beard.

“You’re so gentle, big guy, I thought you’d go straight to making love but” another bite, another gasp, “I think I’d better fuck you instead.”

“Please.” Barclays hands glide up to cup Joseph’s face and guide him down into another kiss.

Joseph rolls his hips forward and his sleeves up as speaks, “Now that you mention it, I can see how things would’ve gone if we met earlier. I was an obedient son but not beyond sneaking someone into my room when my parents were away” he undoes Barclay’s shirt, keeps grinding against him and licking his lips as he feels him getting hard, “or maybe we met down here, and you’d sneak me into the backyard.”

“Fuck, yes.” Barclays chest heaves as Joseph cards his fingers up through the dark hair to tease his nipples, “god, if how I, fuck, feel now is a clue, I’d have been so fucking mad for you.” He makes a charming groan as Joseph tongues his nippls and then nibbles his way up to his ear.

“It’s funny” Joseph kisses his cheek, “I knew so many guys like you on the force. Not you now, used to hard work and worry, but you then; spoiled and softer than a boiled egg.” He allows himself a moment of savoring their cocks teasing each other through their pants before continuing, “always wanted to discipline them, because it was clear no one ever did.”

“Please show me how.”

“Why?” He grins down at him, toying with his left nipple until it’s bright red.

“Because I wanna be good for you, Joseph. Wanna be every fantasy you ever had.”

“...Lord god almighty how am I supposed to say no to that?” Joseph undoes his suspenders, laughing at Barclay’s triumphant smile, “you’re a dream, big guy.”

He crawls so he’s straddling Barclays face, cock dripping pre-cum onto his lips. Barclays tongue keeps peeking out from between them, but doesn’t go further without permission.

“Since this is disciplinary, you don’t get a say in how it goes. You’ll take my cock as long and as deep as I want it, because I’m superior to you and you’re here to do what I say”

“Fuckyeah” Barclay paws Joseph’s thighs, opens his mouth so he can guide the head in.

“That, ohyes, that being said, if it’s really too much, tap my thigh twice.”

Barclay nods to show he understands, but is already pre-occupied sucking his cock like he’s starving for it.

“A good start, big guy, but if I just wanted my cock wet I’d have gone swimming.” He cups the back of Barclays head in both hands, “I want something to fuck, and your face is it.”

The man beneath him moans, fucks the air uselessly as Joseph pushes further in. He finds the resistance of his throat with a half-inch to go, and decides that’s good enough. He pulls halfway out, pushes back in, repeats the process a few times before finding his rhythm. Weeks of wanting mean it’s hurried and greedy, but the resulting moans suggest Barclay approves.

“You look so good like this, Barclay. God, if you’d been some fresh-faced officer, one look of those doe-eyes is all it, shit, would’ve taken for me to make this the only discipline you ever got. Any time I needed to put you in your place or just, fuck, just needed to let off some steam, I’d do this, get my, my cock in your mouth so often you’d run out of spit and be thankful for my cum in, in it’s place.”

Barclay is groping him again, eyes bright and lips managing some upward curve as his cock forces them apart.

“Then again” he tenderly massages Barclay’s scalp, “there’s no reason I can’t do that in this universe. Oh, ohshit, Barclay-” his words desert him as he cums, the other man swallowing eagerly and sucking him clean before he pulls out.

Joseph glances over his shoulder, “Can I take care of that for you?”

“Fuck, please?”

He rolls off of the cook, stays on his side and slips one arm under his shoulders. Then he sets his palm on the monstrous bulge in Barclay’s jeans and sets to work.

“I, I should unzip-”

“No” he kisses him, “we’re surrounded by evidence that I can’t have you cumming on. Don’t worry, I’ll clean up the mess you make cumming in your pants like a teenager.”

“Promise?” It’s an odd thing to say, but Joseph thinks he understands.

“I promise.” He quickens his pace, Barclay’s grunts growing louder when he does, “I’ll take care of you, big guy. I’ll look after you. You don’t have to lift a finger when I’m around.”

“Joseph.” Is all the reply he gets, Barclay already turning as cum spreads across his fly and clinging to the detective. His breath is hot, stays shaky even as his cock stops pulsing.

“Barclay? Baby, are you alright?”

“So fucking good, babe. I, I uh” he holds him tighter, “this is the first thing to make sense to me in years. Loving you, having you in my life, I get how we fit together so easily. Everything else, the murder, Ma, this person lurking around the last place that feels like home waiting to hurt me or hurt Mama or someone there, all of it, it’s so goddamn tangled I’m worried it’ll never get straight.”

Joseph rests their cheeks together, “We’ll figure it out, big guy. I promise.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #TAZ amnesty #noir au #detective au

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