#reminds me i need another doctors appointment

[les-mys]

forgot how much i like going on walks for the fun of it :]

[flareondotcom]

I think nonbinary ppl should get the day off work if their tummy hurts :^/

[mejomonster]

Oh no guys I read about adhd symptoms to see if I had it and now I've made myself sad :c dang these things be affecting my life :c

[batboybisexualism]

I may be stupid (I'm definitely stupid) but if you're a doctor's office and you're sending a patient to get labs please remind them a day or so before the appointment that it's supposed to happen at a separate location, especially if you're making them go in for labs on a day when your office is closed and they can't get in touch with you to ask where they're supposed to go. also please tell them whether or not they need to fast for the blood tests, for the love of fucking god

[rafeandonlyrafe]

tatted

words: 1k

warnings: established relationship, husband!rafe, tattoos

“mmm, good morning wifey.” rafe pulls you in closer to him, legs tangled together under the blanket.

“i’ll never get sick of hearing you call me that.” you smile, pressing a kiss to rafes chest as you snuggle into him, the morning light illuminating the room.

you’re both still on vacation mode, having just gotten back from your honeymoon two days ago. “i wish i didn’t have to get up, but i’ve got an appointment, baby.” “wait, what?” you whine, picking your head up. “you didn’t say anything about a doctors appointment.” your bottom lip pouts out, making rafe lean forward to kiss the frown off your face. 

“don’t worry, we will spend all day together as soon as i get back.” rafe slides himself out from underneath you, quickly heading to the closet to get dressed. he waited as long as possible to get out of bed, not wanting to part from you, but now having to rush out the door.

“mmm, i’ll probably stay in bed all day.” your body was still on maldives times, not even bothering to readjust to being back in the outer banks.

“perfect.” rafe leans over the bed, giving a kiss goodbye. “no need for my wife to even lift a finger.”

you smile at rafe, cupping his jaw to give him a firm kiss. “come home soon, i miss you already hubby.” 

--

“that was a long doctors appointment.” you frown as rafe reenters the house. you eventually dragged yourself out of bed, taking a shower and eating what you considered breakfast despite it being past noon.

“you know, darling” rafe says as he toes his shoes off, leaving them in the foyer. “i just said appointment, nothing about doctors.”

“what other type of appointments are there?” your brow furrows together as rafe joins you on the couch.

“tattoo.” rafe says with a shrug, making your eyes widen.

“you-you got a tattoo?” 

rafe raises his left hand. you finally realize he has a clear wrap covering his fingers. you take his hand gently in yours, looking through the film at the first letter of your name, complimented by a small heart on his ring finger.

“i’ll put the ring back on once it’s healed, but just in case i ever have to take it off, i need everyone to know that i’m still yours.” rafe says, waiting for your reaction.

“i love you.” you finally manage to get out, melting into rafe, making sure not to press against his hand as the red skin heals.

--

“i’ve got something for you baby!” rafe calls out, smiling as you skip into the kitchen.

“what is it?” you question, tilting your head to the side, expecting rafe to be holding something in his arms, but instead he lifts his loose sleeve, revealing fresh ink on his inner bicep. 

“whats it say?” you quickly move closer to read the script, eyes filling with tears when you realize that rafes newest tattoo is your wedding vows.

“oh.” you cover your mouth. “rafey, this is so sweet. i love it.” you press your lips against his. rafe clearly saw your reaction to the first tattoo, the way your eyes tracked over it whenever he moved his hands, the way you were practically begging to be fingered with just his tattooed finger, watching it disappear inside of you, the cold press of his ring against your cunt.

“love having reminders of the best day of my life on my body.” rafe never viewed himself as a tattoo guy, seeing himself as too indecisive, but his mind quickly changed when he realized they could all be dedicated to you, the one constant, the one steady thing in his life.

--

“i’m thinking about getting another tattoo.” rafe hums. its been a couple months and the script on his forearm is now fully healed. 

“really?” you hum. “what are you thinking, my name on your dick?” you joke, but rafe still cringes thinking about the needle dragging over his sensitive skin.

“definitely not. i was thinking your eyes on the back of my neck.” rafe turns, rubbing his hand over the area he was thinking.

“wouldn’t that hurt a lot?” you ask with a pout, but rafe just shrugs.

he makes an appointment the very same day, looking through all the pictures he has saved of you until he finds the perfect one. you’re smiling at him on the other side of the table on your two year anniversary of dating. 

he shows it off to you a week later, and you’re surprised how much you like it, kissing down his spine when you help him take his shirt off before looking at yourself in the eyes, but in tattoo form.

--

rafe won’t admit it to you, but he’s addicted to getting tattoos, wanting to cover his body in everything and anything relating to you. he does end up getting a few others, mostly to fill up what he feels are blankspots, a smattering of patchwork tattoos covering his body, along with a few more dedicated to you.

“rafey?” you call to him as he comes home, his hand now wrapped in clear plastic. 

“hey baby.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you eye the wrap until rafe turns his hand to reveal that he has the word married across the side, yet another reminder of your union.

“i was actually thinking…” you mumble before trailing off, not restarting your sentence until rafe nods at you to continue, looking at you expectantly. “i was actually thinking of getting a tattoo myself. just the letter r on my ring finger. to match yours.” 

you twist your ring on your hand shyly, not sure if rafe would like the idea of you getting tattoos. you’ve never shown any interest in getting them yourself, but you’ve had to take your ring off enough times to swim or wash dishes and don’t want to be without that reminder of rafe even for a short amount of time.

rafes smile stretches across his cheeks. “i thought you’d never ask, wifey.”

rafe sets an appointment for you with his favorite tattooer before you can second guess yourself.

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[sirfrogsworth]

I saw this on Reddit and it reminded me of how hard it is to transport my dad to all his appointments.

I have to push him in a wheelchair for any long distance and because of stuff like this, I have had to figure out how to pop wheelies, back down curbs, and go through doors backwards because the auto-open feature is broken. You would not believe how often the auto-open button is not functioning at doctor's offices, hospitals, and other medical establishments.

This thing.

I don't know why they break so often, but someone needs to do something about it.

One of my biggest pet peeves is people blocking the wheelchair crosswalk in front of my dad's dialysis center.

This drives me nuts.

Especially because a lot of the time it is a family member dropping off someone in a wheelchair for dialysis. You'd think they'd know better.

Because I am able to walk and push my dad I always park in the disabled spot and push him across the crosswalk. People transporting patients or family members with electric wheelchairs or more serious debilitations will choose to park directly in front of the building so they don't have to transport them as far. I park in the parking lot so I don't take up space in front of the building for these more serious patients. I'm trying to do my part to make this process easier for everyone.

Unfortunately these folks will often block the crosswalk. All they have to do is pull a bit in front of the crosswalk and they can still transport the wheelchair with ease. Usually medical transport services will do this correctly, but most family members don't give a shit. They just want to get grandma out of the car as fast as possible.

But the worst offenders are customers and delivery drivers going to the Chinese place directly next to the dialysis center. These are all able-bodied people. Customers can't be bothered to park in a parking space 50 feet away so they park in front of the crosswalk and leave their car while they order food.

And then there are the motherhecking delivery drivers.

Are you seeing this shit?

He angled the truck so his ramp would reach the sidewalk. Absolutely no space to fit a wheelchair.

AHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRGGGG. Are you kidding meeee?

I had to back my dad down a curb and wheel him around the front of the truck and then wheelie him over another curb to get to the parking area.

This dude was blocking the way for at least 30 minutes. My dad wasn't finished when I got there so I had to wait for him. Almost every patient at the dialysis center is in a wheelchair. He saw me pushing my dad all around the parking lot and just kept making his deliveries.

I nearly confronted the delivery driver, but my dad was feeling really weak from dialysis and he desperately needed to get home so he could lie down. But if I see this again, I am definitely going to say something. Anxiety be damned. I was so mad.

I guess I just want people to know stuff like this happens constantly. We need to spread the word that inconsiderate stuff like this is unacceptable.

And sometimes the worst culprits can be the family members of the disabled people. We are in this together and we need to support each other.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You can’t remember the last time you had the house to yourself. Even if your mother’s just next door, it feels a little lighter around there. And you’re happy for her. Maybe having Steve around will be good. He can be an outlet so she doesn’t have to put all her frustrations on you. 

She was happy when she left, even excited. That’s another rarity in your life. 

You start your day off with a tea. The apple cinnamon bags are a bit old so you use two. You bring the cup into your room and get your table set up with your pencils and sketchbook. You open the window to let in the sunlight, the natural light much brighter than the yellowed bulb above. 

You know your mom would tell you to do something more useful than just scribble in your sketchbook. You got the dishes done last night. Steve offered to help but you deflected as you foresaw your mom’s disapproval. You can’t let company pick up your slack. 

You try to wipe away the anxiety of last night. It’s over now. You shouldn’t have worry very much about it again. 

You finish your tea. It’s cold by the time you get to the dregs. You sit back to look over your sketch. Your eyes feel a bit fuzzy from hyperfocusing on that one stamen. You rub your brow and yawn. The sun shifts and you look over at the old alarm clock on your nightstand. It’s close to noon. 

Something else catches your eye. You look up at the window across from yours. The curtain ripples around the gap before it’s pulled open from inside. Steve stands on the other side of the pane. Can he see you? 

You can’t tell as he turns away without acknowledgement. The glare of the sun should hide your room well enough. You never really thought of it as your blinds are closed more often than not. 

You get up to rinse out your cup. You stretch your legs as you pace in the kitchen. You’re restless. You’re so used to your mom and her demands and expectations, that having your own time feels aimless. 

You could surprise your mother with dinner. Have it in the oven when she comes home. It’s still early but you can make something more than boxed macaroni. It will be a good cushion to fall back on when you remind her about tomorrow’s appointment. 

🏠

When your mother returns, you can see the fatigue around her eyes. For as little as she goes out, you’re not surprised. What strikes you, is how happy she is. You help her to her recliner and she sighs as she leans back. 

“Such a nice man,” she keeps repeating.  

You smile and let her regale you with a recounting of her day. Still, you can’t help but wait for the pendulum to swing back to normal. She leans her head in her hand, her eyes distant. 

“I swear, the universe sent him to me,” she says, “it had to. It was how much I need someone.” She drops her hand and traces her finger around the armrest, “sick, got a lazy daughter, stuck in this damn house...” 

There it is. You frown. You mash your hands together and waver. 

“I made dinner,” you offer. 

“I don’t want KD,” she snips. 

“I made... I made shepherd’s pie,” you offer meekly, “should be almost done.” 

“Hm, wondered what that stench was.” 

You frown. “I can put it in the fridge for tomorrow. Be good to have something we can just heat up after the doctor’s.” 

“Doctor?” She grumbles, “eh... I forgot.” 

She slumps and her eyes dull. You can’t help the pang in your chest. Sometimes you wish it was you who was sick. It feels like you deserve it more than her. 

“Hopefully it’s good. If you can get the surgery--” 

“Surgery!? Surgery. You keep going on about the damn thing,” she barks. “They can’t fix me, girl, get that through your head.” 

“I know, mom, but they can help--” 

“Like you help me? Crittering around here like a rat!” She hits the armrest violently, “would ya leave me be?” She closes her eyes and turns her face away, deflating once more, “ruined a good day...” 

You sniffle and slowly turn on your heel. You should have known better. You should have just left her alone. As much as she rants about you staying in your room, she prefers you there. Out of sight, out of mind. 

🏠

The next day, your mother doesn’t say much. Her silence is just a bitter as her words. You don’t push it. She gets in the car without argument and you set off into town. Even if she says it’s a waste of time, she listens intently to the doctor and answers all his questions. It’s only when she has to go through the tests that she shows her agitation. 

After some hours spent at the specialist clinic, you’re free to go. Your mom is just as quiet. You feel her mood roiling in the air. Her hand is shaking to the point that she’s hissing at it. 

You steer down to the corner and linger at the stop sign. 

“Mom,” you squeak, “you want some orange julius? A treat for the way home?” 

“Don’t talk to me like a damn child,” she snarls. “Let’s just go. I’m tired. Got no blood left in me.” 

You nod and bite your tongue. Maybe you can just put her to bed. Her naps are a respite, though you find yourself anxious in the silence, terrified of waking her prematurely.  

As you pull onto the suburban avenue, you slow and approach your drive. You pull in and shut off the engine. You get out and go around to help your mom. You open her door and she hauls herself out, tisking under her breath. 

“Didn’t see him,” she mutters. 

“Good afternoon,” Steve’s voice answers your question before you can ask. You look over the hood as he waves from his porch, “busy day?” 

Your mother steels herself and forces a smile, “just went to the doctors.” 

“Oh, everything okay?” He asks. 

“Sure,” she chimes, “just some tests. Nothing serious.” 

“Good to hear,” he stands behind the porch railing, arches crossed, “day’s not over yet. Still lots of time to enjoy the sun.” 

“Mhmm,” you mom grabs onto your wrist, shaking you as leans into you. “Nice day out.” 

“I was gonna do up a milkshake, if you ladies wanted to join me I got plenty to go around.” 

“Milkshakes?” Your mother considers, “mm, I’d have to change out of these.” She looks down, “smell like a hospital.” 

“Sure, take your time,” Steve says, “how about you, honey? I got strawberry. You seem like a strawberry type.” 

“Eh, she’s more a vanilla type,” your other cackles. “Plain.” 

“Got that too,” Steve ignores the joke. “I understand if you’re tired out though. Don’t wanna be too desperate over here, just wouldn’t mind the company.” 

“I’ll be over soon,” your mom assures him, “she’s got some laundry to do.” 

She keeps hold of you and points you towards the house. You help her inside, even though she does her best to hid how she clings to you. Her steps are uneven and stunted. You get through the front door and help her sit on the chair you keep by the door, just in case. 

“Goddamnit,” she’s shaking pretty bad. “Help me, you dumb girl.” 

“I... I don’t...” 

“Get my goddamn inhaler. I forgot it this morning.” 

“Oh, uh, okay.” 

You hurry down the hall and to bathroom. It isn’t in the cabinet. You go back out and scan the table. Not their either. You find it next to her recliner. You wish she’d keep it one place. You go back to her and hand it over. 

“I’m gonna go over,” she says before she huffs from the canister, “you’re gonna stay here. Out of my way.” 

“Alright,” you agree. You prefer that anyway. 

She takes a minute before she gets up. She shooes you away and you retreat to your bedroom. You sit on your bed and wring your hands, waiting as you listen to her. She doesn’t say goodbye before she leaves. Only the front door slamming lets you know she’s gone. 

You exhale and pull the fold out table up to the edge of the bed. You open your sketchbook and stare at the pencil. You don’t feel like drawing but you have nothing else to do. You just sit, looking at the amaryllis. You can pick out every flaw in your work. You close the cover and frown. 

A knock startles you and you stand up. Oh gosh, it’s probably Marge. What is it now? Is the siding too stained? Are the steps crooked? You get up and shuffles down the hall. You open the front door, hiding behind it as you poke your head around. 

Steve has the screen door propped open against his elbow. He holds a tall glass filled with pink, “here. Figured I’d bring this over.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you accept the condensating glass, a wide straw poking out of the whipped cream topped drink. 

“Maybe next time you can pop over too,” he suggests, “I’ve been working on getting the pool going...” he grins, “it’ll be a good summer for it.” 

You nod and look down at the milkshake. 

“Really nice of you,” you say. 

“It’s nothing, sweetie,” he puts his hand on the door above him, looking down at you, “enjoy.” 

“Uh,” you look at him then at the straw. You don’t want to be rude. You put your lips around the tip and take a sip. “Mm, yup, good. Thank you.” 

His blue eyes stick to you and he drags his hand down the door, “I’ll make a deal. You come over to see the pool when it’s ready, and I’ll make you another. How about that, sweetie?” 

You push your lips out. It’s not nice to say no. He didn’t have to bring you the milkshake or invite you. You shrug. 

“Okay,” you agree, “erm, thanks again.” 

He nods and taps the door frame before he steps back. He gently closes the screen door and you watch him through. He turns and strides down the stairs. You shiver as the cold glass numbs your fingers. Hopefully, he forgets about the pool thing. You don't even have a suit.

[starry-eyes-love]

Calm Me Down

Main Masterlist Joel Miller Masterlist

The next chapter in the Marriage Dynamics series

Pairing | Husband Joel Miller x Wife F!Reader- AU, No Outbreak

Summary | You wake up having a panic attack, and Joel calms you down. This results in the two of you talking, calming each other’s fears, and finally working through your problems. You feel movement in your pregnancy for the first time while Joel silently talks to his unborn child, asking for a gift that he doesn’t know yet but will receive.

Work Count: 5.5K

Warnings | Series is 18+, Minor DNI

Age difference (implied), language, descriptions of anxiety/panic attack, flashbacks, marriage dynamics (these two finally communicate), hurt and comfort, tenderness and love, mentions of pregnancy, you feel baby movement for the first time, mild reference to past cheating (your father and Joel's ex-wife, not from Joel or you), mild references in the past to physical abuse by your father, references to berating your father did to you in the past.

A/N: Sorry for taking so long on this next part, but here you are. As a reminder, I no longer do tag lists. Make sure to turn on notifications for when I post new written pieces.

“Baby, look at me,” Joel said sternly, turning you around to face him. He immediately searched your eyes to get you to look at him. Joel reached out instinctively and placed a steady hand on your belly, slowly rubbing it and feeling the soft swell of your stomach that was holding and caring for his child. He was trying to help ground you and reassure you that you were okay and that your baby would be alright, too.

These moments come out of nowhere: the sheer panic, the sweaty palms, the narrowing vision. You don't know why, but suddenly, it feels like the whole world is crashing down around you, like you are falling fast off of a cliff, unable to save yourself from sudden death. Your heart races, and you're stuck believing the lies in your head. The lies that you know are not true.

“I'm not good enough. I can't do this. I'll never be more than what I am now: a failure. My husband doesn't love me.”

This feeling inside seizes you, holds you tight, and doesn't allow you to take a proper breath. And that's ok, you think. You don't need to breathe, not yet. But the feeling doesn't stop, and your body eventually screams for another breath. The thing is, though, you can't get any air in, so you panic once again. The cycle never ends. It keeps repeating until you're drowning in your sweat and anxiety. You're having a goddamn panic attack, one that you haven't had in many years. To say you're embarrassed doesn't even come close to describing your emotions. The word you require fails to come to you, so you settle for fear, embarrassment, and loneliness.

You've been way too stressed your entire pregnancy. You're a week shy of being 20 weeks along with your third baby and your fourth pregnancy.

Yeah, we won't talk about that pregnancy. The daughter that you lost at 22 weeks pregnant. To this day, you still don't like thinking about it.

Even though this is a different pregnancy, things seem to haven't gone how you wanted. You finally did tell Joel that you were pregnant at your doctor's appointment when you started spotting blood. You were scared of admitting pregnancy to him, especially when you two had barely talked since Halloween. You didn't know why; you just weren't getting along. It's funny how life does that sometimes, isn't it?

Even though your 20th-week ultrasound was just a few days away, you felt embarrassed that nothing seemed to go as planned this time. You hadn't told Joel you were pregnant technically until you were having bleeding problems. You weren't sexually active with your husband. There was no celebration of being pregnant, just awkward silence, mostly of which came from you. Joel attempted to speak with you, but you'd always clam up and not talk. If you were being honest, it wasn't until late at night on Christmas Eve that Joel and you started to talk and get along again. 

Now, you lay awake in bed, your mind racing, running wild with panic at all the scenarios that weren't even happening. But it felt like they were happening now, and you were scared. You were drowning in panic, unable to slow your mind down, wishing for anything to stop it. 

I'm not good enough. My husband doesn’t want this and doesn't want to be with me. I'm such a horrible wife for not telling him.

Your thoughts wouldn't stop. Your mind kept racing, and you felt like you were drowning. The walls were once again closing in around you, sucking you underneath the surface. You desperately needed a lifeline to grab onto, something to save you from yourself. That's when you felt your husband reach out to you and pull you tight against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, securing you to him while gently whispering, “Baby, come on now, breathe.”

Earlier in the night, Joel had decided not to sleep with his shirt on, something he hadn’t done in a long time. After his shower, he noticed the way you were looking at him. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, you looked at him like you desperately needed something primal from him.

“What's that look for, baby?” He said, glancing over at you and raising just his eyebrow. He was taunting you, wanting you to voice all those dirty little things that he knew you were thinking. He could tell by the look on your face, the way you were breathing, and how you were slowly squeezing your thighs together that you were turned on and sexually aroused. Joel may not be able to give you penetrative sex yet, but dammit, he could eat his wife's pussy if she wanted it. And Joel secretly hoped that you wished to do that tonight.

“I-uh, I-'' you said, stuttering and stammering at the words. You couldn't voice it or say it out loud for some reason. You were never afraid of dirty talk in the bedroom. But considering it has been almost 20 weeks, nearly five months since the two of you have done anything sexual, you were a bit nervous. 

“Why don't you finish getting ready for bed, baby, then come over here, and I'll get ya all nice and relaxed for bed.”

“What did you have in mind?” You asked, hoping Joel would voice it for you.

“Oh, darlin’, you know what I have in mind,” he said, slowly sticking his tongue out and moving it up and down like he does when he licks at you fast when he goes down on you.

You quickly nodded your head and then ran into the bathroom. You needed a shower and desperately needed a shave. You spent the next 20 minutes making yourself feel more sexy and presentable. But when you entered the bedroom, you noticed all your work was in vain. Joel was lying down and loudly snoring already. Immediately, your heart sank at seeing him fast asleep.

Joel intended to give you, his wife, some much-needed affection and attention. But he underestimated how tired he was. When his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light and asleep within seconds. You, however, had laid there with your eyes open, overthinking stuff once again.

You loved being pregnant, but you hated the first part of pregnancy, where the anxiety was horrible. Your doctor said because your hormones change so much in the first stages of pregnancy, anxiety is common among women. And boy, did you ever have anxiety, especially this time around with being pregnant in your late 30s. 

Even though your hormones were already leveling out, you were still nervous about knowing if your baby was growing healthy inside of you. You knew that after your 20-week ultrasound appointment, you would calm down. But you just had to get there first. You were nervous about losing this pregnancy. You remember the pregnancy you had lost; that 20th-week ultrasound showed significant problems. If everything would show that you were ok, just like the two other pregnancies did with your boys, you knew you'd calm down. You kept telling yourself that everything would be ok. But that crippling anxiety kept sneaking up at you at the worst times and holding you tight, like tonight.

The longer the night continued, the more you wanted to reach out and have your husband hold you tight to help calm your fears. But he looked so peaceful lying there sleeping; you didn't want to wake him. You both were getting along again, and there was no more fighting between you. So you didn't know where this anxiousness was coming from tonight. Your body felt off, and you didn't know why.  You had tried to fall asleep, struggling with your mind to get any rest. At one point, you had dozed off a little bit, but you quickly woke up in a panic, sweating profusely. You were smack dab in the middle of yet another bad panic attack. You haven't had one of these episodes of panic for many years. Usually, stress or something larger would trigger them, but nothing unusual has happened recently. So you lay there silently, trying to will all of these bad feelings that you were having away. But no matter what you did, you could still feel your heart race and your chest constrict. It felt like you couldn't fully take a deep breath.  You were drowning fast in terror and panic, not knowing if you could get yourself out of it anymore. You didn't realize in your panicked state that your husband woke up. But then, all of a sudden, when your chest constricted the tightest, and you thought you were going to die from lack of oxygen, you felt Joel’s strong arms wrap around you. He gently pulled you to him, where your back met his chest. He let out a long exhale while slowly whispering, “Baby, come on, breathe.

After Joel had laid down, he had fallen asleep suddenly, too suddenly for his liking. He wanted to cuddle you and give you much-needed attention and affection. Joel could see that you were stressed with work and raising the boys, and Joel's chaotic work schedule didn't help you. He recently hired a manager to work out in the field with Tommy so he could stay back in the office more and focus on the business side of things.  His contracting business was expanding, growing at a rapid rate where Joel didn’t need to be out in the field all the time working. He could take that much-needed break and focus his time and skills on the best ways of growing his company. 

Joel suddenly was jolted awake by something, but he was unsure of what.  When he opened his eyes, Joel saw your back as you were facing away from him. Joel thought maybe it was a bad dream that had woken him up.  Slowly, he ran his hand down his face, slightly shaking it and yawning to clear his head.  Upon looking over at you again, Joel saw that you were curled up into a ball, looking like you were resting peacefully.  He smiled silently, admiring you and what looked like your peaceful slumber. But then he heard it, the small sob that left your chest as you struggled to breathe in air.  Joel frowned, knowing all too well that you were panicking and having a bad panic attack yet again.

Baby, I thought we stopped these, he thought, not enjoying seeing his wife struggle.  He knew you were drowning in your head, unable to get your head above water as gulp after gulp of quick spurts of air were leaving your lungs.  You were like a lost ship out to sea, desperately looking for a way back into port.  Joel knew he was your only lifeline, and it broke his heart that he needed to be this again.  He loved you and always supported you, but seeing you panic like this broke his heart.  Something was bothering you, and he hoped, like hell, that someone wasn’t him.

“Baby, come on, breathe.” He said, slowly reaching out to you and pulling you into his chest.

But you couldn't; your heart was hammering in your chest, and it wouldn't slow down. “I can't breathe,” you said, hyperventilating and sobbing. You didn't know what was wrong or why, but it felt like you couldn't breathe. “Something’s wrong, Joel, I can’t- I can’t breathe.” You said, rushing air in and out of your lungs fast. 

“Baby, look at me,” Joel said sternly, turning you around to face him. He immediately searched your eyes to get you to look at him. Joel reached out instinctively and placed a steady hand on your belly, slowly rubbing it and feeling the soft swell of your stomach that was holding and caring for his child. He was trying to help ground you and reassure you that you were okay and that your baby would be alright, too.

As soon as your eyes met his, you started sobbing and saying, “I can't do this. I'm a failure. I'm always fucking up. No one cares about m-me or loves me.”

“No, babe. Come on now, look at me,” Joel said, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes to look at him.  “Come on, with me, yeah? Breathe.”  Joel then took a slow, deep breath, and you mirrored his actions.

“That’s it, sugar, nice and slow,” he said, breathing with you. He was trying to slow your breathing down. After readjusting himself, Joel sat beside you, gently taking your hand and placing it on his chest, holding it tight against him. 

“Feel how I breathe, darlin', now match it. Come on now, slow breath in.” 

*Joel took a slow breath in.*

 “Now, slowly breathe out.” 

*Joel slowly breathed out.*

“And again,” he said, getting you to focus on slowing your breathing down. One of his hands held yours against his chest so that you could feel the pattern of his breaths. The other hand was protectively lying over your bump, gently stroking the skin, centering both you and him that everything was alright with your baby.

After several moments of slowing your breathing and getting you to breathe normally again, you finally sighed and said, “Thanks, Joel.”  

Still sitting above you, Joel furrowed his brow as he looked at you. He didn’t know why you were having a panic attack tonight. It stressed him out and worried him, especially since you were pregnant. He didn’t want you to get too stressed out and put the baby you were carrying under any more stress. After a long moment of observing you, Joel finally sighed and asked, “Why d’ya think you’re a failure?” As he waited for your response, he slowly started stroking your belly once again.

“I don’t know, I- I was upset and spouted my mouth off. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Don’t give me that shit of ‘didn’t mean anything by it.’ Christ woman.” Joel said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand while removing his other hand from your belly.  

You frowned slightly at his movements, knowing that now he was agitated. You didn't want to have any more arguments with him. You two have been finally getting along for a while, and you weren't in the mood to go back to the way things were, where you hardly spoke, and if you did, it would result in an argument. To you, those days were behind you. 

When Joel felt you stiffen below him, he froze. He was frustrated at the situation tonight. Something was bothering you to the point where it made you panic, and he wanted to know why. Why did you think that you were a failure? He felt his heart ache when you continued to look up at the ceiling, not wanting to look at him for fear that it'd start another argument. 

Since when did Joel Miller become such an asshole that his wife didn't want to look at him? Since when did he become your father?

Joel took a deep breath and sighed, realizing how harsh his attitude had been these past few months. Yeah, you two haven't had sex since Halloween, almost five months ago. He reasoned with himself that the lack of sexual intercourse was because of the doctor's orders. But you two haven't done anything else either. Joel didn't blame you; he blamed himself for the change. Tommy even commented the other day to Joel that his brother had changed, but not in a good way. Yeah, Joel Miller was an asshole. But what bothered him the most was he's been an asshole to you, and you've never deserved it.

Sighing at this realization, he turned towards you and gently touched your chin. “Hey, look at me, will ya,” he said, cupping your cheek with his hand. When you finally decided to look at him, he smiled tenderly and whispered, “I love you. You know that, right, baby?”

He felt his eyes sting when you didn't answer and just stared at him. Joel Miller has been drastically fucking things up.

“I'm so fucking sorry, darlin’,” he said while gently placing his hand back again on your bump. “I’m sorry for makin’ this. For fucking everything up where I wasn’t there for you emotionally like I should have been.”

You just glared at him, struggling to keep your tears from falling. “Y-you didn't, shit,” you said, brushing a single tear away from your cheeks. I’m not doing this right now. I’m not going to break down again, you thought. 

Joel could see you were struggling not to get emotional, and he was trying so hard to find ways to fix what he had already broken. “Baby, I was so mad at what ya told me on Halloween. That I wasn't rockin’ your sexual world anymore. I got, fuck baby, I got mad and jealous.”

“Seriously? What could you have been jealous about?” You said, snapping at him with more force than you intended. You were confused and slightly irritated at your husband. Joel was the one who shut you out after Halloween, not you. He barely spoke to you, held you; hell, he still hasn't even fucked you since that night. Sure, you pulled away, too, and you didn't tell him you were pregnant. But every time you tried to open up, he'd shut you down, yell at you, or treat you like you weren't his wife. You sat in silence, not knowing how to respond to your husband. Joel wasn't moving or answering you either, and for a minute, you thought that maybe he'd fallen asleep. But then you heard it, a sniffle, followed by a choked-off sob.

“Joel-” you said softer, looking over at him as you noticed tears streaming down his face. He placed a hand over his eyes, sobbing into it. You didn't understand what was happening or why he was giving you this emotional response.

“I'm s-sorry. I'm so fucking sorry that you d-don't want to be w-with me anymore.” Joel said, continuing to sob into his hand.

Where the hell was this all coming from? You thought. “Baby, what are you talking about? Of course I-”

“Don’t,” Joel said sternly, quickly brushing his tears away. Joel hated crying by himself, and he hated crying in front of you. After taking a moment to collect himself, he leaned down and whispered to your belly, “I'm so sorry that Daddy has fucked this up. I-I love both you and your mama so fucking much, ok?” He gently kissed your belly and wiped the remaining tears from his eyes away. When he sat up, he looked around the room, admiring the home you two had built together, with the front of him facing away from you.

Joel wouldn't look at you, even when you asked him. You were scared, scared of what was coming next. You knew this scene, knew it well from your father. It would be the moment that Joel would tell you he’s been sleeping with someone else.  He’d tell you that you were too much for him and that he couldn’t help it, that it was an accident. You also waited for the words ‘you ruined my life’ to come to his lips, just like your father told you before. But the longer you waited, the longer it was apparent that those words would never come. That’s when you felt your heart begin to race again.

“I can practically hear those gears turning in your head, love. Stop overthinking things. I just wanted to say that you deserve better; you both do. And I know I'm not your favorite human right now and that you’re ashamed to carry my child-”

“Joel Miller, what are you even talking about? I'm not ashamed of-”

Joel stopped you by raising a hand, silencing you, saying, “Please, just let me finish.” He then continued when he knew you wouldn't interrupt him again. “I've, I'm- shit- I'm not good with this stuff, with words. I just- fuck.” 

Joel didn't know what he was trying to say. He felt sorry for Halloween and for the miscommunication you two had. He’s been moody since then and not present in his marriage. He was also very sorry for not making you feel comfortable enough to tell him things again, like when you were first pregnant. But most of all, he was sorry for disappointing you as a man and husband.

When Joel realized the last admission in his mind, he felt tears well up again. You had opened your mouth to speak again, but Joel interrupted you by saying, “Ya know, I think my ex-wife was right all those years ago.”

“How so?” you said, tensing at the mention of her.

“She said I always fucked things up, and that's why she was- uh- why it didn't work out between us.” Joel almost said it. The thing he hadn’t told you. That his first wife was unfaithful because he wasn't present in their marriage and didn't give her enough support after Sarah was born.

“Joel,” you said while slowly grabbing his hand. “Baby, I'm not her, and for the record, you ain't fucking things up.”

Joel snorted at your comment, saying, “Darlin', we both know that ain't true. You're pregnant with my child. And you didn't even want to tell me because of it, because of me.”

“Joel, I didn't tell you because I was scared. I'm a woman in my middle thirties who told her husband life was stale in the bedroom. On that same night, he also knocked me up. I wanted to tell you immediately, but as soon as I attempted, you weren't there. You were working 16-hour days and moody because of no help at work. Yeah, I fucked up. I should have said something, but I was scared. I was scared I was trapping you in a marriage you didn't want.”

“What do you mean a marriage I didn't want? Baby, I love you and want you, always. I've never felt trapped, not ever. Why are you thinkin’ that?” Joel said, screwing his face up and not understanding why you thought he didn't want to be married.

“I don't know, just something my dad said when-”

“I ain't your old man,” Joel said, grinding his teeth and flaring his nostrils. At one time, your father, Pat, was Joel's best friend. But that abruptly ended when Pat laid his hands on his daughter and unforgivably hurt her.

“I know it's just- I was worried you didn't want this, want me. I know I'm a lot, a handful, that-” Your voice started to tremble, and your lip was quivering. You couldn't say it out loud. But Joel knew it was the last thing you heard your father say before you walked out of his life, forever.

Flashback

“Joel, I know my daughter, ok? She's a handful, a complete pain in the ass, and a liability. One that I wish like hell wasn't my damn responsibility anymore. So do yourself a favor; don't get involved. She'll just ruin your life. She’s already ruined mine.”

You had stood there and heard your father tell Joel, your new fiance, he didn't want you as a daughter anymore. That you being around was a burden to him and his life. You were standing in the kitchen as Pat, your father, talked to Joel in the living room. You weren't supposed to hear the conversation, and you knew that. But with what you heard, it had shattered you. You walked out of your father's house with tears in your eyes, never returning. It was good that you walked out before you heard your father's last comment. The one comment that yet today made Joel grind his teeth and see red anytime he thought about it.

“Joel, that girl of mine is nothin’ but a goddamn whore. A bitch, just like her mother. She'll just hurt you in the end. My advice, make sure you have a little something on the side, a nice piece of ass as I did, just as a pick me up. Trust me, you'll get sick of looking at her pathetic ass day in and day out. I did with her mother, and it felt great to go and get some much-needed attention from the girls I had on the side…”

After your father called you a whore and told Joel what took place when Joel had you hang out at his house, he felt sick and saw red with anger. Your dad's weekend trips and late-night house calls were due to him fucking around on your mom, a woman who was battling cancer and eventually lost. But the worst thing that Joel found out was that all those black eyes you were supporting in high school and college weren't because you got into a fight or that a boyfriend hit you. No, Pat was getting drunk and using his fists against his daughter's face. Joel also had a sneaky suspicion that the two cracked ribs you had in college also came from Pat.  Joel couldn't believe that his best friend did that, and worse, you never said anything. Joel would have stopped it immediately if he had known. Pat was no longer in either of your lives anymore.

Present Day

“Baby, you ain't too much, so stop thinking that. C’mere.” Joel said, having you come and sit on his lap while he placed his back against the headboard.

He helped you straddle him, putting your hard baby belly against his softer belly. Your bump prevented you from getting as close as usual, but it was close enough that Joel could still wrap his arms around you and rest his forehead against yours.  

“Now, darlin’, I want you to take a deep breath for me, ok?”  After you took a deep breath and slowly let it out, you felt your heartbeat return to normal, along with his.  

“I’m so sorry, Joel, that I didn’t tell you-”

“Don’t. Please darlin’. I-I don’t care what we’ve done before. I care about the right here and now. Please.”

You could feel how stressed Joel was. How his muscles tensed with you, referencing you were sorry again for not telling your husband at the beginning of your pregnancy that you were pregnant.  If you could do it again, but differently, you would.  But that’s not life.  Life is about living in the moment, feeling emotions, and allowing yourself to experience it in its messy glory.  It’s about making mistakes and then learning from those mistakes.  But most of all, it’s about forgiveness, hope, compassion, love, and understanding.  You both understood that the choices made these past few months were out of anger, frustration, and loneliness.

With your eyes closed and your understanding of the situations that have surrounded the two of you for a while, you quietly said, “I love you, old man.”

Joel let out a small snort at your teasing. ‘Old man’ was a nickname you gave him long ago when the two of you started dating, and now it was a term of endearment. 

“I love you too, baby girl,” he said, slowly nuzzling his nose against yours.  

When you pulled back and opened your eyes, you saw your husband looking at you lovingly.  His eyes were so soft, tenderness seen behind them. He was your lifeline that tethered you to this world, keeping you anchored and not drifting.  When he slowly kissed you, you felt him tell you in the kiss that you were loved and that everything would be alright.  He was your rock, your protector, your soulmate. But more importantly, he was your Joel. The man who saw you for what you were inside. He saw past your faults and insecurities, of you believing you were too much. He gave you a safe place to land and be in the moment.  You had a lifetime with him, helped him raise Sarah, and gave birth to two strong-willed little boys you loved dearly. And now you were pregnant again, with a baby that was half him and half you growing inside of you. This little one was very much a surprise, but the best possible surprise.  It forced you both to stop your chaotic lives and slow down to remember what life was all about Love.

After several tender kisses, you started to giggle against his mouth.  Joel pulled back at your giggling, confused at your antics. “Darlin’, are you laughing at me?”

You continued giggling and said, “No, Joel, I’m not,” but then you giggled again.

“Baby, please-”

“Joel, I just felt the baby move.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot up, surprised, looking at you with excitement. “R-really? Just now?”

“Yes, just now, when I was thinking how much I loved you and how much this child is teaching us that we need to communicate still, to be strong, and-”

Joel slowly moved his hands down to your stomach and rubbed it tenderly.  He knew he wouldn’t feel movement for another few weeks.  But seeing you feel life for the first time was the best possible gift one could experience with you.  The joy on your face at the realization that a baby was growing inside you, one that he helped create.

“There it is again,” you said, smiling and giggling. You placed your hand right over Joel’s hand, right where you felt movement.  It felt like a cricket, or something ran across your stomach, but from the inside.  It was always the oddest feeling that you’d feel. It wasn’t a full kick yet; those would come in a few weeks.  But in this movement, it always made you laugh when you’d feel it for the first time.

When you looked up at Joel, you were beaming with the biggest smile, while he had the most tender look in his eyes. Softly, he rubbed his thumb back and forth over your skin, giving you and his baby affection. “She's telling her mama that she loves her.”

“Joel, it’s too early. We don’t-” you said, choking up with emotion.  Joel knew you wanted a girl so badly, especially after the two of you lost the only pregnancy before where you were pregnant with a girl. It was a sore subject for the two of you. 

Before, when you were pregnant with a girl, Joel had come home early from work because you said you weren’t feeling well.  He noticed you were sleeping on the couch when he entered the house. Joel quietly went upstairs and showered, but you yelled for him while he was washing his body. Joel quickly rinsed himself off and ran out to the living room, wearing nothing but a towel with water still dripping down his back. When he got to you, you were sitting up and crying.  When he had asked you what was wrong, you pulled back the blanket, and Joel saw a large pool of bright red blood on the couch. You were rushed to the hospital by ambulance, but it was already too late.  The girl you were pregnant with had no heartbeat detected. You stayed in the hospital for observation, delivering the tiny baby that night. 

After you were asleep in the hospital, Joel had gone home. He took the sledgehammer to the couch, tears streaming down his face while hitting it. Tommy found him beating the hell out of the sofa, crying and screaming at how much he hated the world for taking the one thing that you wanted away from you: a little girl.

And now, all these years later, when you hear Joel reference a girl, you can’t help but get scared. Sure, you hoped for a girl and dreamed of it again, but you also didn't want to go through losing another baby once again.   

“It’s just a hunch, darlin’, and don’t worry, mama; I’ll keep you both safe.  Now come on, time for you both to go to bed.” Joel said, wrapping you in his arms to help silence your fears.

Joel laid you down and got you situated after he brought you some water to drink.  He pulled you tight to him, your back against his bare chest as he traced small circles on your belly, helping you quickly fall asleep.  After Joel knew you were sleeping soundly, he quietly whispered, “Little one, please stay in here no matter what, ok? I don’t know if you’re a girl or a boy, but I think you may be a girl this time.  Regardless, your mama needs you to be healthy, and Daddy needs you to be healthy. You’ve heard bad words these past few months when your mama and I have been arguing. But please know, I’m beyond excited to be a dad yet again, your dad. I love you both so much, ok. Stay in there, and let your mama have a nice, easy pregnancy, ok? I love you.”

Joel stilled his hand on your bump, gently holding it snug while he drifted off to sleep. Neither of you knew that deep inside your belly, a tiny baby girl was growing nice and strong. Even though this pregnancy was difficult at times, that baby had no plans of leaving anytime soon. She would be the miracle and the one thing that helped you focus on fixing your marriage once and for all. 

They say that life throws the most challenging curveballs when you least expect them and that sometimes those challenging events shape you into a better human being. That’s always been the story for you and Joel, and now, you both are about to enter the exciting part of your pregnancy—the one that will reshape your current Marriage Dynamics.

End of Chapter

[marleyybluu]

Glasses

Husband!Oscar x black!wife!reader

Word count: 2k

Content warning: fluffy fluffy, Oscar is a stubborn husband, a little sexy flirtatiousness at the end, just your typical married couple and we love it, reader is hot for Oscar and his glasses (I mean I would be too tf)

A/N: bare in mind that i don’t have glasses idk how the process goes lmao I just made shit up so sorry if it’s not accurate I guess. Who cares we’re in make believe land rn

Sorry for typos && bad translations if any

(I know these aren’t glasses glasses but… you get it lmao)

"Mama..." Rafa says poking your arm, you look down at him and smile. "Yes?"

"Why is Dad making that face?" He asks pointing over to Oscar who's holding his phone down in his lap with his head tilted up slightly so that he can see the screen better. You shook your head. That old bastard was a stubborn one. You have noticed for months now that Spooky is squinting to read everything, he's holding things at certain angles just the see the words correctly. He even has the kids reading things for him when he flat-out can't make out any of the words.

And of course, you've confronted him about it, saying if he wanted you could schedule an appointment with an optometrist and get his vision checked but he tells you— "No, mamita, I'm fine."

Stubborn Jack ass.

You roll your eyes and sigh dramatically. "Mi hijo, maybe you can talk some sense into your big-headed father. Because he won't listen to me." You say loud enough for your husband to hear. He grumbles and looks over at you, so tempted to say something disrespectful but your son is there. You wiggle your eyebrows taunting him.

"Papa, I think you need gafas."(glasses)

Spooky breathes heavily like a dragon, you swear smoke comes out of his nose too. "Mira, baby, let me just take you to check your eyes. If I'm wrong I'll eat my words and do anything you want."

His ears perk up at the offer. "Anything?"

And you knew what that tone meant. Spooky had been asking for another baby sooner rather than later but you constantly rebuttal with the fact that your third child, Emilia, was only a year old and you refused to have two under two. "Yes, anything." You reply confidently knowing you'd win this battle. He says it's a deal and you smile proudly keeping a reminder to make his appointment later.

-- --

In the days leading up to the appointment, he swore up and down that you'd be wrong, that you'll soon be walking around with a round belly all over again and he couldn't wait to see it. You remain quiet and shrug, occasionally giggling at how cocky he was about this.

After dropping the kids off at your mom's, you two head over to the Optometrist. You're pleasantly greeted by the woman at the front desk who asks you who the appointment is for. Oscar finds himself a seat and huffs like a child. You roll your eyes and mention his name. "I'm assuming you made the appointment." She smiles light-heartedly. "That obvious?"

"Trust me, I've got one at home whose chain I have to pull to even get him to the doctor. They're all like that."

You giggle and look over your shoulder at him as he pouts and looks at his new shoes. The receptionist says she'll let the doctor know you two were there and be back to guide you to a room. You take a seat next to Oscar who immediately puts his hand on your thigh, squeezing at your supple flesh. "So, what do you think the next baby will be? I hope it's a boy, I can't lie."

"Will you shut the fuck up? You are not winning this bet, Diaz."

He looks around before trailing his hand up your dress, your eyes widen when his fingers brush over your panties. "Who you talkin' to like that? Don't let this bet get you fucked up."

You swallow your attitude and shrink in the chair, he removes his hand and gently kisses your temple. Maybe he'd get another baby out of you regardless.

It wasn't long before you two were called in. Once in the room, Oscar was told to sit in the chair that was hooked up to everything while you sat in the extra chair not too far from them. He starts by asking Oscar about his medical history; and if anyone in his family has problems with their vision but he says, "Not as far as I know."

You watch as he's asked to read the chart across the room and he instinctively squints, you cover your mouth to stop your giggles.

Even with the act of squinting he ends up getting a lot of them wrong.

He's tested furthermore and, honestly, it was not looking too good. He was struggling so much that it was truly getting to him, his nails scape at the jeans over his knee caps-- taps them once in a while whenever he lets out a frustrated sigh. You were beginning to feel bad for him, wanting to whisper the letters to him so he didn't feel so... shitty.

The lights in the room turn on and the optometrist sits in his chair. "Mr. Diaz, unfortunately, I do think you'll need some prescription glasses. You are more farsighted in your right eye than you are in your left. The left eye seems to be fine for now. So, I will put in an order for a pair of lenses and when they're ready we'll give you a call to pick out the frames."

Oscar sighs, he sounds so defeated. You two thank the doctor and make your way out of the office building and back to the car. He sucks his teeth while buckling his seatbelt, he crosses his arms and waits for you to put the car in drive but you don't budge. "Why are you acting like this?"

He shrugs. "Let's just go."

"No. What are you upset about?"

"I'm old."

There was a moment of silence, took you a a minute to realize he was serious. "I'm old, mama. I can't see shit, I'm tired, I'm cranky. I'm fucking old. Next thing you know I can't play with my kids, can't play Fútbol con Rafa, dios mio." (Soccer with Rafa, my God)

He was genuinely spiralling. "Papito, I hate to break it to you but we're supposed to get old." You say to him but it (obviously) doesn't help.

"Lo sé, mi amor, pero, they still have to make it to middle school and high school, I gotta see them through college."

"Who says you won't? Mi marido, (my husband) we will be there for all of their events, for all the big changes. We will still be there when they all leave the nest to create their own, and when they come back to visit." You reassure. "I'll still be next to you in a rocking chair. We are not going anywhere, anytime soon. Entiendes? No hay prisa." (Understand? No rush)

He nods, still pouting. You lean over and plant a loving kiss on his lips. "If you ask me you will make a sexy Abuelo. Glasses and all."

"En serio?" A little bit of confidence coming back to him.

"Sí, papi chulo." You purr pulling him in for another kiss. "You know we have a lot of time before we got to get the kids." He grumbles his lips travelling down your neck. "Let's go before you get us in trouble in this parking lot."

He shrugs. "Wouldn't be the first time."

You laugh. "I know, I don't want to relive it."

-- --

Days passed and Oscar finally got the call to pick up his lenses and choose the frames, you offered to go with him but he said he wanted to surprise you. You'd been waiting all day excited to see what would walk through the door.

You sighed flipping through the selections on Prime, the house was quiet with the kids either distracted or sleeping and you were bored-- until you heard the car door slam shut and his keys jingle right outside the door. The door swings open but he doesn't enter, not yet. He calls out for you and when you answer all too eagerly he chuckles at your excitement. "You been waitin' on this all day?" He asks.

"Yes, hurry the fuck up." You rush. He appears from behind the door and stands with his arms slightly open. "Cómo me veo?" (How do I look?) He asks. Your eyes widen and your jaw slacks. They were simple black frame glasses, they weren't obnoxiously thick or oddly small, and they were good enough to fit him. You sit up on your knees and lean over the back of the couch. "You look... good. Muy guapo, papito." You slur feeling a heat spread in your lower belly. His eyebrows raise in surprise, he knows that look anywhere.

"Quierida..."

"Oscar... " You had the filthiest line ready for him to hear until a pair of footsteps descended from the steps. "Whoooooa! Elliana, Mira! Papa got glasses!" Rafa announces rushing down the stairs to get a better look and shortly another set of little feet made their way over. The two children were so interested in what was on their father's face and how different he looked. "Can you see better?" Elliana asks and he smiles giving her a sweet kiss on her head. "Sí, mi corazón. Thanks for asking."

Rafa turns to you. "Mama, doesn't Dad's glasses look cool?"

Their eyes were on you but you could feel the taunting nature of your husband's eyes. "Yeah... mhm, he looks... they look-k good." You stammer causing Oscar to smirk.

He had seemingly found an upper hand on you with these glasses and he wasn't afraid to use it over the next week. He had them on even when he didn't need them to see that look on your face— the lust, the adoration— your pupils seem to expand whenever you see him in those spectacles. He just looked fucking hot.

It was the best when he walked around in his grey sweats, alone, with no shirt. Just his tattoos and glasses to complete his look and you ate it up every time. You tug on your bottom lip as you paint the picture in your mind. But why imagine, when you can just go see. The house was quiet, all the kids were sound asleep, you shifted out of bed as carefully as you could to not wake Emilia. Once you are successful you grab the baby monitor and creep downstairs, the television is off and the whole first floor is dark-- the only form of light shines through the windows courtesy of the moon. 

"Why the fuck would you do that!?" 

Ah yes, of course, he was in his habitat. The basement. You sneak your way down to see that the ceiling light is off and he just has the ones around his monitors on, though they are bright enough for her to see where she's going. His back is turned and he's so zoned in that your presence goes unnoticed for quite some time. You cross your arms and dramatically clear your throat to let him know you're here. "Yall give me a minute, wifey is here." You can hear the collective; "Hi wifey!" "Hola señiorita!" "What's good Mrs. Spooky?" 

You smile and greet them right back before he mutes his mic. "What's up?" He spins his chair to give you his full attention. "Emilia's awake?" 

You shake your head. "No, she's still sleeping. Just came to hang out." Your eyes ogle the print in his sweats. He follows your line of sight and chuckles. "You sure?"

"Mhm." You swing your leg over his legs and perch yourself on his lap. "I mention how fucking good you look in these glasses?" You purr leaning in. "They havin' an effect on you, ma. That I can see." He hums ghosting your lips with his. "And that's why you should listen to your esposa (wife)more." 

Your lips finally meet and it's not long before you two are practically nibbling at each other with a mutual desperation to end the sexual tension that's been created over time. "Let me hop off the game-" 

"No, it's okay. They can't see you right?" You smirk gnawing at his jaw. "No, they can't."

You reach between your bodies and slide your hand into his sweats. Oscar reaches up to adjust his glasses and when they begin to fog up he cleans them off and reaches to put them on his desk when you stop him. 

"The glasses stay on, Diaz." 

if you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated. peace and love, see you in the next one🤙🏾

🏷️: @darqchilddaydreamz @educatorsareslutstoo @realhotgurlshit @bigenergy777

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Oof that Daniel and his best friend's wife hit the spot for me. I know it has a happy ending but if by any chance you'll come up with ideas for pt. 2, I'll be there reading it

NOT A REQUEST (you already have enough of those)

His Best Man || DR3 {2}

Summary: Two months later you uncover another lie James told you. (Just a little thought I had and decided to share) Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, pregnancy, smut WC: 2.1k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Daniel’s Reaction

Song: Bless the Broken Road by Rascal Flatts

“Did you lie to me?” Your broken voice was hoarse as you sat crumpled on the cold stone tiles in Daniel's bathroom. A thousand thoughts raced through your head so fast you couldn’t cling to one long enough to make sense of what was happening.

“You woke me up for this shit?” James growled and you heard a soft feminine voice asking him who was on the phone, but it no longer hurt.

Your hands trembled as you reached for the impossible that was somehow staring you in the face. “The appointment I missed…did you lie?”

The silence dragged on for too long to be honest and you shook your head roughly, displacing the tears that clung to your bottom lashes. 

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he admitted in a quiet murmur. “It was easier to believe it was your fault.”

“You’re a rotten bastard.”

“How did you find out?” You could picture the confusion as he sat up in bed and heard the lamp click on. “Unless…”

You hung up the phone before he could voice the connection he had made and dropped it at your side to pull your knees to your chest. That was how Daniel found you when he crashed into the room with his phone barely hanging from his fingertips, a look of dismay on his unusually somber face. He hadn’t even changed out of his fireproofs after finishing free practice on the famous Monaco street track.

“You said you couldn’t have kids.” The accusation and hurt was clear in his tone as he sank down the wall opposite you, his eyes unable to look away from the tests scattered at your feet.

You too stared at what you thought was a miracle only to find out that it too was a lie. “I got caught in traffic on the way to the appointment at the doctors. James said that his tests came back fine but mine were the problem. That’s when our relationship changed, when he started to pull away. I thought it was because of me!”

Daniel dragged his eyes away from the pink plus signs and narrowed them at you. “Why didn’t you double check?”

The back of your head thumped against the vanity but you didn’t feel anything as you screwed your eyes shut against the sight of his distrust. “He was my husband, I thought I could trust him. I don’t need you reminding me what a fucking mistake that was!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m just a little shocked, okay. Fuck. A baby?”

You peeked out of your lashes to see him reaching for one of the tests, holding it up to the light despite the lines being clear as day. “Apparently so.”

He picked up the other two and blinked a few times as he waited for the punchline to come, but it never did. “Should we get hitched?” 

“Wow, Danny, just wow,” you muttered as you pulled yourself up from the floor and massaged your leg that had gone numb from sitting for so long. 

He leapt to his feet and caught you by the hips before you could leave the bathroom, but after a split second he moved his hands higher to your waist. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m not going to marry you because I’m pregnant, this isn’t the 1920’s, and my divorce isn’t even finalised.” You unlatched his arms from your body and stepped into the bedroom that overlooked Monte Carlo, grabbing your suitcase from under the bed to begin packing your clothes.

“What are you doing? You don’t have to go.” There was a hint of desperation in his voice as he fought the urge to drag your suitcase away from your hands. “Stay, please.”

“You didn’t ask for this and I had long given up on the idea, so I think we could both do with some time to think. You should be focusing on your race this weekend.”

Unable to resist any longer, he stepped between you and the suitcase and placed his hands on your shoulders as he bent his knees so he could look you in the eyes. “I may not have asked for it but I’m not some fucking bogan, I’m not going to let you go through this alone. I’ll be right by your side.”

“Don’t,” you whispered as you looked away from the sincerity in his eyes. “Don’t make promises on a whim. You might mean it now but…”

Daniel didn’t let you break eye contact for long as he followed your gaze, a small smile playing at his lips. “When have you known me to change my mind, love?” 

His smile grew at the pause as you mentally ran through all the years of knowing him unable to find an example. You couldn’t count the number of times James had changed his mind, but Daniel? He had none. 

Your answer was reserved and nearly silent but somehow he heard and his hands slipped down your body before cupping your ass and picking you up. His laugh warmed your neck as he buried his face in the crook while you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“I never thought about having kids,” he admitted as he kissed your racing pulse. “It’s kind of exciting.”

You looked around the high end apartment and lingered on the balcony that opened out off the bedroom that was 15 floors off the ground. “It’s kind of terrifying. There is some serious baby-proofing needed to raise one here.”

Daniel chuckled and shook his head as he laid you gently down on the bed and continued his soft kisses across your body. “Then pick a house, baby, any house. Whatever you want, we’ll make it ours.”

“Just slow down a minute,” you panted as he brush the strap of your dress aside and sealed his lips over the swell of your breast.

“But I want you,” he groaned as he propped himself up on his knees between your legs.

You reached for his race suit hanging at his hips and tugged the zip down further so you could find the hem of the fireproof shirt. “No, not that. I meant the plans and grand gestures. You can definitely continue what you were doing.”

“I like grand gestures,” he said as he helped you to pull the shirt over his head and you saw a sheen of sweat coating his skin from the sprint he had made to get home. “From surprise tattoos to buying a house fit for a family, don’t stop me now.”

“How can I when you talk like that?” You pouted as you remembered your promise to him. “I won’t be able to get your tattoo for a long time.”

Daniel’s short beard rubbed across your shoulder, tickling your skin as he shook his head. “We have more important things to think of now but I’ll get it on you one day, baby.”

Your thoughts turned to everything those important things could be from finding a doctor and midwife to just how insane the whole situation was. Daniel could see you were drifting away as you got lost in your mind and knew one sure way to bring you back to the present.

“Eyes on me, love,” he ordered as he pushed your dress up and hooked his fingers into your panties to slide them down your legs. “Forget about everything except this right here.”

His fingers teased you as he slowly dragged them through your folds, feeling your body respond so quickly to his touch. You squirmed beneath him when he smirked and teased you again, almost but never quite going where you wanted him most.

“Please,” you whined when he missed your clit for a third time.

“Just checking you were still focused on me,” he chuckled. His eyes held yours as he curled two thick digits into your cunt and pressed his thumb to your clit, making your back arch off the bed at the sudden sensations of his ministrations.

“I’m always focused on you,” you moaned, reaching for his race suit to push it down his hips. “Now please fuck me…”

Daniel’s smirk grew as he shoved his boxers down his thighs and nudged yours apart wider. “You’ve been so needy lately, is this the hormones? ‘Cause I could get used to this.” He teased you once more as he fisted his thick cock and stroked the long length before tapping the head on your sensitive clit. “Are you sure you want me to fuck you?” he asked as he pressed himself to your entrance, your body slowly stretching to welcome him before he stopped an inch in.

“Yes! Please, Danny,” you whined, before taking matters into your own hands. You wrapped your legs around his hips and dug your heels into his ass, pushing him forward, and you both moaned as he filled you completely.

“That was naughty,” he chuckled in your ear. “If you want to be in control so badly, here you go.”

He caged you in his arms and rolled onto his back so you were on top. Tucking his arms behind his head, he winked and made himself comfortable. “Go on, baby, take what you need.”

Planting your hands on his chest, you accepted the invitation with the roll of your hips as your eyes fluttered shut.

“He really is a cunt,” Daniel sighed as he lay beside you, his phone on silent after all notifications he had received overnight. The sun was beginning to leak through the gaps in the curtain and your eyes were weary from the lack of sleep. It worried you to know Danny was going to be driving in a few short hours when he hadn’t rested for long enough.

After James called Daniel to taunt him over the news that you were pregnant, and that as the father he wasn’t even the first to know, the asshole had then told every news outlet globally it seemed. He hadn’t stopped there though, he had spread the news on every social media platform he had, ensuring there would be no privacy for either of you.

“That was your friend,” you pointed out, only to earn an unamused side glance.

“That was your husband.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“Very.” Daniel rubbed his eyes and groaned as he stretched his arms out before pulling you into his embrace. “But it was also the truth. We can’t change our pasts, baby.”

He grabbed his phone from the night stand and avoided the apps with growing numbers of notifications in the corners. He barely had to look to find Spotify as his thumb hit the icon purely on muscle memory. 

“No, please, it’s too early for country,” you groaned as you saw him selecting a playlist and song. 

“Nobody can tell a story like a good ol’ country song, Roo. It’s like they can somehow bottle up everything I’m feeling and say it for me. Just listen,” he said softly as he hit play. The apartment came to life with the speakers that were built into the ceiling, the sound wholly encompassing as you curled into his arms and listened to what he wanted to say.

I set out on a narrow way many years ago. Hoping I would find true love along the broken road. But I got lost a time or two, wiped my brow and kept pushing through. I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you.

Daniel hummed along to the tune, his eyes closed as he rested his head against the cushions and you watched it rock gently side to side. He was always at peace when he listened to the genre and even with the chaos he had woken to he was able to let it saturate his soul and calm him. So you nestled in closer to rest your head on his chest and let his heartbeat join the chorus.

Every long lost dream led me to where you are. Others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars, pointing me on my way into your loving arms. This much I know is true, that God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you.

Daniel’s lips pressed to your forehead softly and you felt them whispering along as tears stung your eyes, “God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you.” 

I think about the years I spent just passin' through. I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you. But you just smile and take my hand, you've been there, you understand. It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true.

“You’re breaking my heart, cowboy,” you whispered as you idly traced the line of hair down his navel.

He smiled as he wiped away the dampness on your cheeks before his large hands cradled your face. “Then let me fix it.”

Request: Daniel’s reaction

Tagging: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @zendayabelova @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery @eviethetheatrefreak @kimi240302 @formula1mount @storyteller-le @dakotali @daddyslittlevillain @elijahslover @formulas-bitch @faithm120601 @ynbutbetter @allabouthappiness @simpingcorner @chasing-liberosis @jspitwall @sociallyinepludi @ru-kru

[talesofadragon]

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬

Synopsis: Receiving wind that Hydra has successfully managed to awaken another wave of winter soldiers, Captain America appoints his two best avengers, Bucky Barnes and Y/N Y/L/N, for the job. But aside from Bucky’s trepidation at reliving his worst memories, there’s something else rooting him in his place–the fear of inflicting harm on the woman he loves the most. Between her encouraging words and his violent past, what will happen when Y/N is forced to encounter her boyfriend’s alter ego?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Warnings: Angst | Fluff

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬  Masterlist | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

“𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍, whose brilliant idea was it to hitch a ride to Antarctica at four in the morning?” Sam groaned, shooting Steve a tired side-eye. The glare would've carried more weight if Sam's eyelashes weren't so heavy he looked on the verge of collapsing into sleep right then and there.

“It’s a twenty-hour flight,” Steve stated matter-of-factly, ignoring Sam’s blatant groans. 

Everyone was almost in the Quinjet, with Bruce and Clint slumped in a bunk each. By the sound of their rhythmic snores, the early mission hadn’t disturbed their sleeping schedules, and the Big Guy was too exhausted to comment about his new surroundings. Natasha was in there, too, plugging in the mission's coordinates. Needless to say, besides her and the two supersoldiers standing in the hangar, everyone else looked more than eager to go back to dreamland.

Y/N eyed Sam as he hugged his pillow tightly, using the walls to steady himself. Sam, who was this ball of infinite energy, was dozing off at the speed of light. And though he was used to waking up early and heading off for his morning lapses with Steve, the poor guy was stuck in a debrief with Nick Fury late last night and had barely managed to get some shut-eye. 

“I think what Sam means is why endure a twenty-hour hassle to get to Queen Maud Land when we could’ve figured out a faster means of transportation,” Y/N interjected.

Steve raised a skeptical brow. “Like what?”

“Portalling,” she shrugged, catching Sam’s attention. “What’s the point of having friends like Dr. Strange if we don’t ask for help when we need it?”

"Because, for one, Strange is not a friend," Tony asserted, his voice carrying a hint of annoyance. He looked pristine and smelled fresh, his gym bag slung casually over his shoulders. Figures the insomniac would be the least bit aggravated at the prospect of deploying to Antarctica before even the worms were up. "And second, what makes you think he’d help us?"

“Maybe because he’s also an Avenger.”

Tony gasped aloud, his hand shooting up to cover his arc reactor. His melodrama got even Steve to roll his eyes. “Firstly, take that back. There are only six Avengers and a handful of enhanced sidekicks.”

“Excuse me?” Bucky chimed from next to Y/N. 

“Seven Avengers,” Tony corrected, shooting Y/N a glance. Not even Bucky’s death glare or Sam’s scuff halted his monologue. “Anyway, back to the topic at hand. What’s bigger than Strange’s bibbidi-bobbidi arsenal is his ego—”

Natasha interceded, “Says the man who had his name plastered on a building.”

“I heard that, Jessica Rabbit.”

“As you should’ve. I’m sure,” Steve piped in. 

Tony’s lips twitched in their signature way. He pushed Steve aside and entered the Quinjet, throwing his bag on one of the biggest bunks available. For a man who’s not keen on sleeping, or being accused of egotism, his behavior is quite contradictory. 

“The point is, Stephen Strange’s medical license may scream, ‘I help people for a living,’ but doctors talk a big game until the hospital bill arrives.” He paused, turning his attention back to Sam and Y/N. “That’s when you realize their benevolence comes with a hefty price tag.”

"One that I'm sure you can afford because you're a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, as you oh-so-casually like to remind us all."

"Okay, weren't you sleeping?" Tony pointed an accusatory finger at Clint, who had rolled over and sassed him. Clint refrained from answering, his light snores filling the now silent area.

Sam took this as his cue to build on the previous point. "I’m with Clint on this one. Why don't you score three out of four on the Stark Personality Index and give Strange a call?"

"Why don't you channel your inner sorcerer and magically zip it? Because the less we debate, the quicker we might actually get something done," Tony rebutted. He waved his hands around, signaling for everyone to board the jet. Sam and Steve went further inside, both commenting on Tony's antics. Y/N and Bucky were the only ones who lingered in the back.

“James,” Y/N whispered, catching Bucky’s attention. His electric blue eyes held her gaze. He expected her to ask him about his well-being or point out his lack of commentary. But, to his surprise, Y/N gently took his metal hand and squeezed it. “It’s going to be just fine.”

Bucky laced their fingers together, bringing their interlocked hands to his lip and planting a soft kiss on her knuckles. Sometimes, he could’ve sworn Shuri had augmented the sensory feedback in his prosthetic. But when Y/N’s eyes twinkled as they did now, and a wave of undiluted love inundated his heart, he knew it had less to do with technology and more to do with her. 

“Stick by my side,” he reminded her firmly. 

Y/N’s lips twitched, the corners rising to form a smirk. “Till the end of all lines.”

Bucky broke into a chuckle, briefly shaking his head. He pulled on her hand, making her fall into step together. Though the nagging feeling in the back of his mind hadn’t dissipated, he gladly ignored it as he led Y/N to one of the bunk beds. She needed all the sleep she could get, and he needed the reminder that she was very much real and very much close. 

“Avengers Assemble.”

Y/N bet Tony’s entire fortune (obviously, because he was the billionaire, not her) that Steve, along with everybody else, expected anything—literally, anything—except for Bruce to burst out laughing at this exact moment. It wasn’t even a shortle or an innocent giggle. He was doubled over, gasping for breath, one hand gripping his stomach while the other clung to a chair for support.

It was only when the entire group turned to face him that his laughter began to gradually cease. “You said Ass,” Bruce clarified sheepishly, his weariness rising now that all eyes were on him. “You know, because you’re America’s ass, and you could’ve literally said anything else, but you chose that word. Right, Tony?”

“Right,” Tony replied wryly. 

It was evident that Bruce was growing increasingly uneasy. The team had reached Queen Maud Land, Antarctica, with only five minutes to spare before landing. FRIDAY was working to determine the safest landing spot, considering it was well past midnight and the relentless snowstorm showed no signs of abating.

A tingling sensation emanated from Bruce, creeping into Y/N's consciousness. Quickly, she skipped to his side, stretching out her hand. With a gentle smile and inviting eyes, she wordlessly sought Bruce's approval to make contact. As he extended his hands, Y/N eagerly accepted it. A radiant silver encircled her irises, the hue spreading through them. Likewise, her veins adopted a pale white, the color effortlessly transferring from her to Bruce. In a matter of seconds, she sensed his shoulders ease, a soothing wave of calmness enveloping him.

“Thank you,” Bruce said softly. 

“Don’t mention it,” Y/N replied as her eyes reverted to their original color. 

She swiftly made her way to Bucky, watching as Bruce stood taller, giving Steve his undivided attention. 

"Now that we've all... assembled, for lack of a better term," Y/N giggled at Steve's joke, earning a lopsided grin. "At face value, this Hydra facility appears to be a scientific research ground. However, we know from SHIELD intelligence that it's not—particularly the East Building. It's safe to assume that both the Observatory and the Experimentation Lab may not include the soldiers we're looking for, but that doesn't exclude any relevant intel we could possibly gather.

"Sam, we'll need you to conduct a quick aerial scan. Deploy Red Wing to ensure the main entrance points are accessible and check for heat signatures to quantify the number of Hydra operatives inside. Nat and Bruce, you'll be in the Observatory. It's the smallest of the three buildings, with only one floor to cover. Sam, once you're done with your report, land in the Experimentation Lab and wait for Clint and me. Tony, you're with Bucky and Y/N in the East Building. Any questions?"

“For the record, that itself was a trick question,” Natasha noted as she double-checked her hidden weapons. The latest NSFW suits (abbreviated for “Nano Secure Field Wear,” though Tony insisted on using the acronym) made it impossible to discern the locations of her weapons. “None of you better ask a single thing because even this Russian ass is freezing and is ready to kick some butt to get warmed up a little bit.”

“Hey, I’m not one to argue when asses are involved,” Tony commented. “Let’s go, Wilson. Time is money.” 

Sam rolled his eyes, lowering his night vision glasses. “Says the billionaire,” he huffed, wings at the ready.

“I heard that, Iago”

“As you should’ve. I’m sure,” Natasha sassed. Safe to say, Tony didn’t mirror everyone’s laughter.

“So, Lynx. On a scale of Africa to Antarctica, how are you two snowglobes enjoying this weather?” Tony quipped. 

He was supposed to fly to the East Building, but the storm was unrelenting. Steve had asked Sam and Tony to limit their aerial assessments, not wanting to risk damage to their gear. Unfortunately, that meant Tony had to walk to the building alongside Bucky and Y/N. While this wouldn’t normally be a problem, the loud groans coming from the side painted a clear picture of Bucky’s sullen behavior. And God knew how much Tony and Bucky just loved to push each other’s buttons. 

“Just because my moniker happens to be ‘Lynx’ doesn’t mean I am one, Tony,” Y/N shot back. Her eyes glinted with a hint of mischief as she gazed at him. “If we all carried the same traits as our pseudonyms, then you’d be as heavy as your ego.”

Bucky elected to laugh at this one, watching with glee as Tony made a face. Even with his suit hiding his features, it wasn’t hard to picture his reaction. “You should know better than to try and sass her.”

Tony shrugged, picking up his pace and walking just a bit ahead of the two. “Teasing your girl is my favorite pastime, Barnes. She’s a ray of sunshine when she wants to be. Too bad she’s stuck in the wrong season.”

“He can’t keep his mouth shut for thirty seconds, can he?”

Y/N giggled, shaking her head. “I’m afraid that might cause him an aneurysm, baby.”

The storm was fierce, with the wind battering them from various directions. For the most part, the trio easily navigated the road. Tony was leading them, using his altered nano blasters to inconspicuously clear the path when the snow was too thick. 

And yet, while the enhanced suits blocked out the cold, they didn't imbue any of those who wore them with warmth, maintaining the body temperature at a neutral level. So, when Bucky unexpectedly felt a fiery rush glistening across his gloved hand, he immediately looked down and broke into a dulcet smile at the sight of Y/N's smaller hand in his.

“You seem lighter,” she commented.

Bucky kept his eyes on his surroundings as he responded, “Is this an attempt at praising Stark’s new suits?”

“No, silly,” she chuckled. Of course, she’d find ways to lighten his mood in these frosty conditions. “I was talking about you, not your clothes.”

“Using your abilities on me, Lynx?”

“You’d know if I was.” 

It’s true, he would. Not that she had ever used them on him, anyway. It was only when he grappled with his nightmares that she did, and that was only when she had earned his explicit permission to do so. 

“I’m convinced that even without your enhanced abilities, you would still be the only person able to influence my emotions.”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “What do you mean by that?” She almost missed a step when Bucky briefly chanced a glance at her. His electric blue eyes were darker, given the lack of light, but there was something else there—an emotion she had trouble deciphering. "That’s not exclusive to me. I’m not the only person who influences your mood."

Bucky smirked, his thumb drawing circles along Y/N’s gloved hand. “You are the only one that counts.”

“Do you say that to every woman you come across, Sergeant?”

“Only the ones I’d like to keep around, angel.”

Y/N playfully jabbed him in the ribs, and to his surprise, he felt it even through the layers he was wearing. Taking the light-hearted punch in stride, Bucky mock-pretended to be hurt.

“I don’t know if Tony has rubbed off on you or if it’s the other way around," Y/N lamented, her pout visible, even cuter with the cold air escaping her mouth.

“Don’t involve me in your lover’s squabble.” Speak of the devil.

Bucky had to roll his eyes at the unwanted intervention. “Overly narcissistic of you to assume you are part of the conversation, Stark.”

“Overly irresponsible to shamelessly flirt with your girlfriend before shutting off the open communication channel of your earpiece, Barnes. Judging by the flush of your cheeks, it seems that even this playboy can influence your emotions.”

It took too long for Tony to register the snowball Bucky had gathered and chucked at his face, even longer to notice Y/N’s outstretched leg before he fell face first in the snow—because the communication channel was certainly not open. Tony, as always, was just being a nosy little worm.

"Observatory sweep complete. Six targets eliminated. Uploading the recon data," Natasha informed, the audible huff in her voice coinciding with a forceful kick against a Hydra operative.

“Copy that,” Steve acknowledged. There was silence on the line, one that mirrored the noiselessness that greeted Y/N, Bucky, and Tony as soon as they entered the East Building. The three exchanged discreet glances, brandishing their weapons as they ventured deeper into the vicinity. “We’ve yet to face any resistance in the Lab. Clint found a hidden passageway on the far right, though. We’re making our way in now. Bucky, do you reckon we’ll find the soldiers there?” 

“Unlikely,” Bucky answered promptly. “All prisoners are kept at sub-level units under strict observation. Unless the passageway leads you to a lower floor, you’ll most likely encounter more agents.” 

“Speaking of agents. Any on your end so far?” 

“None.” 

“Well, looks like our luck ran out. Be careful.” 

The corners of Bucky’s lips twitched as a grin began to spread on his face. “When am I not?”

With Steve’s grunts receding and the conversation dying down, Bucky and Y/N left Stark to scour the upper floor while they inspected the sub-levels. Though there was an enormous likelihood that the soldiers were situated somewhere in this area, the lack of supervision made them question whether this entire mission was either a trap or a distraction. 

Bucky turned to Y/N as soon as he descended the staircase. He seemed disconcerted at the thought, while Y/N was unfazed. “They have an unknown number of active supersoldiers,” she said, graciously blending in with the shadows at the same time Bucky stuck closer to the walls. “Why would they need to have any guards surveying an area they've labeled as ‘barren’ for a reason?” 

“You have a point,” Bucky acknowledged. He scanned his surroundings, locating an intersection a few steps across. “Can you feel if the soldiers are anywhere close?” 

Y/N’s brows knit together in concentration. She huffed, the sound unregistered by her own ears. Bucky noticed it, though. Just like he registered her pout.

“I can’t detect any active emotions.”

“Maybe they've put them in cryo.” Bucky pondered aloud. 

Y/N hummed, “Your theory stands as the most logical.” She craned her neck, attention drawn to the left path ahead. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized it. “While this entire level is brimming with a negative aura, this side seems to be the nucleus. The energy is passive at this point, but there’s a lot of emotional turbulence emanating from there.”

With a swift swipe of his hand, Bucky uncovered the gun he had hidden in his suit. He extended his right arm, quickly drawing it to the side, in front of Y/N's body, as he followed the emotional trail she had picked up. 

Y/N stepped behind him. Her presence almost always went unnoticed, courtesy of her agility and capacity to blend in with her surroundings. On various missions with the Avengers, particularly with Steve and Natasha, she had been told numerous times that her sudden appearances had caught them off guard.

Knowing the same applied to Bucky, Y/N intentionally placed a heavier weight in her footsteps—not enough to alert the enemy to her presence inside the base, but enough to assure Bucky's ears that she was still behind him.

A faint static sensation tingled in Y/N and Bucky’s ears before Tony’s voice filtered in, "I won't claim it's a competition, but if it were, I'd say I've gathered the best intel in this super squad."

"Share it with us so we can award you for it, Stark," Bucky replied sarcastically.

“Six soldiers,” Tony's tone carried a certain smugness as he relayed the information. “Kept in cryostasis. They’re still being heavily monitored and undergoing extreme medical and physical examinations. Expected to be deployed into the field…”

“Watch out!” Bucky hissed, cutting Tony’s speech off. 

As soon as he and Y/N had stepped into a deeper part of the facility, laser beams deployed from all around them, entrapping them. 

“What’s going on?” It was Bruce who had asked, but Bucky and Y/N were too busy ducking out of the way of the lasers to answer. “Bucky? Y/N?”

Y/N surveyed her surroundings, attempting to pinpoint the source of the laser blasts. Unfortunately, the beams emerged from the walls, rendering it challenging to counteract them with bullets. Bucky rolled on the ground, the edge of his suit singed by the laser’s touch. He groaned, his eyes hastily searching for Y/N, who had pressed against one of the walls.

The only exit lay a few meters away, but there was no certainty about where that path would lead or if they could bypass the abundance of lasers to reach it. Y/N patiently waited until one of the beams prepared to shoot, analyzing its trajectory. In the split second it readied to fire, she lunged, curling her body into a ball mid-air before landing on the balls of her feet.

She repeated the process several times, closely monitoring Bucky as he fired a series of shots to dismantle the laser mechanisms. Whether it was a momentary distraction in her brain or a miscalculation on her part, an angry red beam struck her. Y/N took a deep breath, summoning all her energy to shift into her incorporeal form. To her utter disbelief, the lasers surrounding her diminished.

“James!” she shouted, earning a worried look from the super soldier. He immediately jumped to his feet and rushed to her. A forlorn shadow crossed his face when a laser beam severed his attempt. “I think these lasers are triggered by our movements.”

“So what are we supposed to do, Y/N? Stay still?” Bucky said the last part with a sneer, tired from the disadvantage.

He was surprised to see the corners of Y/N’s lips edging upward before the translucent edges around her form completely engulfed her whole. “Don’t be scared,” she had asked of him before she disappeared—the laser beams mirroring her motions.

He supposed that she was making her way toward him, if the receding beams were any indication. He felt a slight pressure on his arm before his body felt lighter as gentle silver strokes tingled across his body. When Y/N turned them both invisible, they moved together toward the end of the small hallway.

“Laser beams,” Bucky breathed out into his earpiece. He kept a firm hand on Y/N's waist as she dropped the veil that shrouded their movements. “We’re fine. Y/N got us out. Stark, what were you saying?”

“I said that the soldiers were scheduled for deployment on their first mission this month, but the specific date was not disclosed. It looks like Hydra hasn't centralized information regarding this project.”

“The information is scattered,” Bruce added. “On the servers here, Nat and I found a list of potential candidates for the 'Winter Program,' as they've named it. Clint is attempting to extract intel from the Experimentation Lab's servers.”

“How many soldiers did you mention?” Y/N asked.

Her gaze fixed on the sliding door ahead of her. Bucky followed her line of sight, peering at the seemingly deserted area. Cautiously, the two of them entered, guns drawn and ears sharp, attentive to any movement. The expansive space was filled with cryo pods, and the two rushed to inspect them.

“Six,” Tony replied.

Y/N shook her head, though only Bucky could witness the gesture. She raised her hand to her earpiece, speaking directly into the open channel, “There are seven pods. All of them are empty.”

A tense silence gripped them, not even a sigh audible through their earpieces. Bucky and Y/N instinctively positioned themselves back to back, keeping a vigilant watch for any potential threats.

Suddenly, a grunt echoed, followed by a loud crash. Without hesitation, Bucky pulled on Y/N's wrist, shielding her with his body. It wasn't until Steve's voice came through their earpieces that they realized the commotion wasn't originating from their location.

Steve sighed, "We've got a problem."

"Aside from the 'seek six, and get an extra super soldier killing machine for free'?" mocked Tony.

"Three of these Hydra operatives that ambushed us are the super soldiers," Steve explained.

Tony groaned, and the sounds of his blasters kicking off resonated in everyone's ears. It looked like he’s got company, too. "Well, that's just perfect. Not only is Hydra onto us, but winter is coming as an unwelcome bonus."

"You couldn't help it, could you?" asked Y/N.

A blast went off a second before Tony answered with a simple "No."

It appeared that Hydra had stationed their soldiers in every building. Three were already locked in a duel with Steve and the others—two now, since apparently, Clint caught one off guard with a tranquilizing arrow. Bruce and Nat were fighting two, and Tony was trapped upstairs with one.

Y/N left Bucky's side faster than he could hold her back. She heard him curse as she inspected the names on the pods. She didn't know what she was looking for, but something told her the answer would be etched on the pods. With six super soldiers combating her friends, the question remained: who was the seventh, and where were they?

The pods all bore identical markings on their plaques, each displaying a serial number designating a soldier. Y/N moved methodically down the line, disregarding Bucky's protests. As she reached the last pod on the far left, she tuned out Bucky's objections. Suddenly, she froze in a way that even Tony's cold-resistance suits hadn’t thought possible.

"James," her voice quivered as she called, the blood in her veins turning to ice. "It's a trap."

Barely having time to convey the name she saw on the seventh plaque—the moniker that Hydra had assigned him—she heard the click of a gun.

Bucky watched with horror-stricken eyes as the bullet shot at Y/N faster than he could intercept it… faster than she could dodge it.

I am so excited for the next part!! Are you ready for the winter soldier to come out and play? 🫣 Share your theories on what you think is coming next!

All-Works Taglist: @xxrougefangxx

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @ye0nvibezzn

: ̗̀➛ Read Chapter 3 - VIOLENCE - here!!

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> choi san x reader x jung wooyoung warning(s) -> mention of abuse words -> 1.2K

abstract -> "...like you’re wanted. It's a sense of security that you have a home"

san's perspective

I’ve been under her care for about a month now… humans often were cruel creatures. She was a saint though. 

The way she cared for others over herself was obvious. The amount of people who come over to check up on her shows how many care for her. 

They were all cautious of me though… of what I did to her. She’s healed by now… luckily she didn't scar. I didn’t want to be reminded by a scar of what I’d done. 

She did prove to want to spoil me and Wooyoung. 

The black card in her hand would pay for everything… I've seen people have their card declined but she constantly picked things out without a worry. 

She is a trust fund kid… but she made money herself too. “San how about this?” she asked me and I shook my head. I didn’t want to show off my arms. 

“San you need some short-sleeved clothes,” she said as she put it back. “Ooh! y/n how about this!” Wooyoung yelled as I saw him pull out another piece of clothing for himself. “If you like it, put it in the cart,” she said happily. 

“y/n?” he asked, looking nervous. 

“Yes?” she said waiting for him to speak… he was fidgeting and not looking at her anymore. “Why haven’t you given us collars yet?” he asked and I groaned.

Collars weren’t something I wanted. 

“Hmm? Oh… well I guess we haven’t had that conversation” she said while looking at me. “We’ll do that at home okay?” she asked and he nodded. 

She wandered off while me and Wooyoung guarded her cart with the mountain of clothing. “Why do you want a collar so badly?” I asked and he sighed. “It's not necessary but… to hybrids, it's almost like you’re wanted. It's a sense of security that you have a home” he said

“Then why hasn't she gotten us one yet?” I asked now feeling agitated at the thought of not having one. “Well… collars are also seen as oppression. Some hybrids don’t like it because it could be offensive” he explained and I nodded. 

“Maybe she hasn’t caused your past? I heard her speaking to our doctor about triggers you have” he said and I knew that made the most sense. 

“I never really had a collar…” I said and he nodded. 

“You should also have some short-sleeved clothes…” he said and I sighed. “I’ll choose some but I doubt I'll use it,” I said and he chuckled. 

“Well it looks like she's looking for some,” he said as we saw her looking at short-sleeved clothes… “Miss?” I heard as I saw an employee get closer to her. “Do you need help looking?” they asked and she pondered before shrugging. 

“Sure,” she said. “Do you know your boyfriend’s size?” they asked and I felt my face heat up. “Huh?!” she let out clearly flustered. Wooyoung laughing at the situation… “Yah, when did you become her boyfriend ~” he teased and I growled. 

“No fair though… I wouldn’t mind being mistaken for her boyfriend” he said softly. The fox had a huge crush on her; it was painfully obvious. 

He was also a big pervert… always when she was out he’d go to her room and leave with her scent on him. I don’t want to know what he does there…

“I think i'm ready for the next store,” she said, quickly coming over to us with a pink hue across her cheeks. 

It was cute how flustered she became. 

“So much,” y/n said as we were now all on the floor lying down surrounded by bags. I don’t even think the floor was visible anymore. 

“y/nnie! We still need to go grocery shopping!!” Wooyoung said and we groaned. He was now the appointed chef since y/n burned lunch one day. He scolded her and kicked her out of the kitchen. Not like he lets me in there either though…

“Does that mean we order food today?” I asked and she chuckled. “What are you craving San?” she asked and I thought about it… “Anything with meat with it,” I said, and the two chuckled. 

I hate the time I wasted being too stubborn to let her in. I’ve never felt happier than by her side and playing around with Wooyoung. 

Everything was perfect. 

“Do you guys want collars?” she asked and I liked the way Wooyoung explained it. A feeling of being wanted… I wanted to be someone like that for her. 

“I do… when my owner died they sold my collar. I never got one again after” Wooyoung said and I sighed. 

“I still can't believe them. I tried visiting you… but they denied us all from visiting saying it was bad for a pregnant woman. Eventually, I just gave up trying to accommodate. I’m sorry Woo”  she said and I noticed he sat up. 

“I’m just glad you never forgot about me,” he said with a grin. “How about you, San?” she asked as she sat up. I looked at her and she always asked me questions with pure curiosity on her face. 

“I wouldn’t mind it,” I said. I think in fact I wanted to be wanted by her.

“Wait here! I have something to give you two!” she said as she stood up quickly and made her way out of the bags and toward her room. 

“What do you think she has?” Wooyoung asked and I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said and he chuckled. “You really are becoming domesticated,” he muttered. “What is that supposed to mean?!” I asked confused and he laughed. 

“You’ve grown closer to her!” he said and I nodded. Before I could say anything I heard her footsteps. We saw her excitedly coming over to us with two bags. 

I didn’t recognize this brand… not like I recognized most but from the looks of it, Wooyoung didn’t either. 

“Before you open it, I got you the second day I went to buy stuff for San,” she said and I was confused. “I also got you one after San told me to adopt you both” she explained. to Wooyoung 

We took the tissue paper out of the bag to reveal a velvet box. Mine was black and Wooyoung’s beige. 

I opened it to reveal a collar… has she got me a collar ever since then?

It was pure black with black jewels around it. “Thank you!!” Wooyoung yelled as he hugged her. I was in shock… she got this on the second day of my being here.

I looked over to Wooyoung. y/n was helping him put it on. It was a beige collar with white jewels around it. “San?” she said as she looked at me nervously. 

I stood up and picked her up. I hugged her tightly…

“Your tail is wagging like crazy!” Wooyoung said and I don’t think I've ever felt this happy. “Do you like it?” she asked and I chuckled. 

“You’ve completed your promise,” I said and she pulled away to look at me shocked. I noticed her eyes turned glassy and she smiled happily at me.

“I hope you’re always happy with me,” she said as she hugged me tightly. 

“I know I will, if I’m with you” 

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 4)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: After battling the symptoms of touch deprivation for weeks, Y/N sees Harry again in Chicago and he helps her deal with the worst of it.

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3

Word Count: 4.9k

Y/N POV

“You haven’t had a nightmare in 4 days?” Rachel asks.

“Nope!” You reply happily, taking a sip of your iced caramel latte. You and Rachel both have a free afternoon and decided to meet at a local cafe. You feel so much better than you had for the last few weeks that you felt confident to order a different drink. No tea that reminds you of Sarah, no hot chocolate that makes you think of Harry.

“And you’re not using those coping mechanisms you mentioned?”

“Haven’t needed them in days.”

“And you’re still not going to tell me what they were?” You blush at this question, embarrassed by the truth.

“No, that secret may come with me to the grave,” you joke.

Rachel looks at you, slightly worried and says, “It was safe right? You weren’t like, drugging yourself to sleep were you?”

“Oh God no!” You reply with a laugh. “Nothing like that, I swear.” Though you think to yourself that Harry’s scent in its direct form would probably be so delicious that it would act like a drug to you.

“Okay, I trust you,” Rachel says. “So, have you heard from Harry?”

You sigh, slightly disappointed by the answer you have to give. “Not since the night of the concert. I’m sure he’s been busy.”

“Maybe you should text him first.”

“And maybe you are out of your mind. No way. And before you say anything, it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm the girl or he’s the alpha or any of that sexist bullshit. It has everything to do with the fact that he’s Harry Styles.” You whisper the last part, aware that you’re in public and anyone around could hear the conversation.

“So what if he’s Harry Styles?”

“What would I even text him?”

“You could start with ‘Hi, how are you?’”

“Very funny. I mean, I guess I could. Maybe. I’ll give it a couple more days.”

“Waiting for him to leave the area?”

“Something like that,” you reply.

“Speaking of procrastinating things,” Rachel says teasingly, “have you called your doctor yet? To find out why that alpha knew you’re an omega even though you’re on suppressants and scent blockers?”

“Okay, that I did not procrastinate on. I called her but I can’t get an appointment until November.”

“Seriously?”

“Yea. I mean there aren’t a lot of doctors who specialize in omegas, so they’re always booked. Anyway, she said that my body has probably just developed a resistance to the pills. She’ll try to change my regimen after the appointment and told me to use the spray on neutralizers until then.”

“That sucks.”

“It does. I am so not looking forward to changing meds. It takes awhile to find the right combo and then there’ll be all new side effects. But it’ll be worth it.”

“I wish omegas didn’t have to hide who they are.”

“Me too. But that’s just how it is now.”

From there the conversation turns to lighter topics until you part ways to continue your day.

Another week passes and you still haven’t heard from Harry. On top of that the bad dreams come back, along with the restlessness, and chills. You’ve started using the old coping mechanisms again, which barely work this time around.

The morning after his final show in New York City, your social media is flooded with videos of him receiving his banner at Madison Square Garden. If there was any time to reach out to him, now was it. He said he wanted to be friends, right? A friend would absolutely congratulate him on this achievement.

It still takes you forever to type out the message, and ever longer to find the courage to press send. It’s nearly noon by the time you text Harry, “Congrats on the banner!”

It’s a simple sentence, just four words, and you still find a way to overthink everything for the two hours it takes Harry to reply. You’re taking a walk, grateful once again that you work on your own schedule and can take a break when you need one. And right now, you need one. Because you texted a celebrity and he still hasn’t answered and you for sure made a complete fool of yourself.

You stop dead in your tracks when your phone buzzes and Harry’s name appears on your screen.

From Harry Styles: Thank you! Can’t believe I got such an honor. How are you? What are you up to?

There’s a bench nearby and you sit to reread his message five times before replying.

To Harry Styles: You deserve it! I’m good, just out for a walk. How about you?

The next message comes in much faster.

From Harry Styles: I’ve been doing well. Took it easy this morning, currently enroute to Texas for the next shows.

You can’t help but feel disappointed that he’s no longer just a city away. You know it’s silly, but it was nice that he was so close by.

To Harry Styles: Enjoy Texas!

From Harry Styles: Thank you! Have you ever been?

To Harry Styles: Once, in college. Went to San Antonio with some friends.

From Harry Styles: That’s a great city, love the river walk there!

And so, you and Harry Styes became friends who text each other about random things. You talk throughout his flight to Texas, and sporadically over the next couple of weeks. It never gets very deep, all surface level conversations, but it’s nice. You feel like you’re getting to know the real him, and he’s getting to know who you are as well.

The texts from Harry are the high points. The low points are, unfortunately, very low. The hot chocolate, and roses, and forest smelling candles are no longer helping you. Bad dreams happen almost every night, you’re constantly cold, and there’s an itch under your skin that just won’t go away. The voice in the back of your brain is telling you it’s touch deprivation, but you refuse to admit that to yourself. You’ve never needed an alpha, and you refuse to depend on one now. So no, you do NOT have touch deprivation.

You’re checking your email, and you see that there are still spots open for a job training opportunity in Chicago. You rarely go to these, but it’s been a while, and you think maybe it would be good to go. There are always new types of data software, and you found the last two training courses you attended to be pretty informative.

Looking at the dates you notice the course is the following Thursday and Friday. In Chicago. You also notice that Harry will be doing shows there at the same time. You don’t admit that’s what seals the deal for you, but it totally is.

After registering and setting up your flight and hotel reservation you send a text to Harry. You casually mention that you’ll be in Chicago the following weekend. You’re surprised when your phone starts to ring, and Harry’s name is on the screen.

You answer the phone and he’s first to speak, saying, “You’re gonna be in Chicago?”

“I am!” you reply, matching his excitement.

“Can you come to my shows?”

“Which days are they again?” You ask this to try and seem like less of a stalker.

“I’ve got one Thursday, Friday and Saturday. You’re welcome to come to as many of those as you want,” he answers.

“I think Thursday is an all-day thing, so I won’t be able to come to that one. The training ends with dinner on Friday evening so I think I could make it just in time for the concert.”

“Ok great, and Saturday?”

“I am free all-day Saturday. My flight back home is Sunday afternoon.”

“Wonderful. I’ll have tickets for you for those two shows. That is, if you want to come of course.”

“Harry, I absolutely want to come.”

“Then the tickets are yours. All the details will come from Jada. I’d be a mess without that girl.”

“You paying her well?” you ask jokingly.

“She’s compensated handsomely, I promise,” he replies with a laugh.

“Happy to hear it.”

“I uhm- it sounds like you won’t be able to come before the show Friday, correct?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’ll probably get there right before you go on.”

“Forgive me if this sounds forward, but would you want to hang out after? It would have to be at the hotel, I can’t really be out in the city after a concert.”

“Totally understand that. And yea, I’d love to hang out after.”

“Great! I’m staying at the Nobu Hotel.”

You quickly look it up and see that your hotel is close by.

“No way!” you reply. “I’m at the Crowne Plaza like, two blocks away.”

“Well, that’s convenient. I’ll make sure there’s a car to take you to Nobu after the show Friday if that works for you?”

“Yea that would be great. I’d love to hang out!” You cringe, hoping that didn’t come off too strong.

“I’d love to hang out as well. Listen I have to go to sound check for tonight’s show. I’ll text you soon. And look out for the email from Jada, it’ll have all the info you need.”

***

Harry POV

“You’re extra happy today,” Elin says as Harry bounces around the venue smiling so big that both dimples are showing.

“I am!” He replies. “Thanks for noticing!”

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Sarah asks. “Because it’s definitely not how this sound check is going.” She has a point there. No less than a dozen things have gone wrong since they started, leading them to take a break while the sound techs work out a few problems.

“Just talked to a friend who will be in town next week.”

“Oh I see,” Mitch says. “So Y/N will be here?”

“Yes, and she’ll be coming to the shows Friday and Saturday. I can’t wait to see her!”

“Aw, someone’s got a crush,” Pauli says.

Harry ignores the teasing from his band members and says, “Honestly I’ve been a bit worried about her. I’ve just had this feeling that keeps getting worse.”

“Why do you think it has to do with Y/N?” NyOh asks.

“I mean, I don’t know for sure. But we’ve talked on the phone a couple times, and she always sounds exhausted.”

“I’m sure she’s alright,” Sarah says reassuringly.

“I know, I just can’t help it.”

“I completely get that,” Sarah replies softly, looking towards her mate.

“Fixed it!” One of the sound techs calls out, effectively cutting off the conversation as Harry and the band get back to work.

***

Y/N POV

The next week passes in what feels like slow motion. Every hour drags on. Your apartment building hasn’t switched from air conditioning to heat yet, so you’re constantly wearing layers of warm clothes and burrowing under blankets. The itch under your skin only gets worse, spreading to new areas each day until there’s a maddening tingle throughout your whole body.

Amelia drops you off at the airport Wednesday afternoon. You know she can tell that something is wrong, but you don’t offer an explanation, so she doesn’t pry for details.

You put on your mask before walking into the terminal. It’s a habit leftover from the pandemic, and also a great way to block out the potential strange scents. Alphas and omegas might be rare, but there’s always a chance a few will be around in such a crowded place. You’re extra sensitive to smells at the moment due to the touch deprivation that you’ve finally admitted you have. But it’s mild. Totally manageable. Not a problem.

The plane ride and subsequent train trip and walk to the hotel is exhausting. You stop and grab some food on the way. After checking in you immediately eat your quick meal, take a hot shower, and crawl into bed.

You’re almost asleep when your phone digs with an incoming text. You’ve already texted your family and friends letting them know you’re at the hotel, so you’re annoyed that someone is interrupting your sleep.

That is, until you see who the message is from. Harry’s name pops up with a text asking if you made it safely to Chicago. You practically melt at how sweet it is that he’s checking in on you. You send a quick reply before immediately falling asleep.

The first day of the training session is typical- informative, but boring. Harry’s show is still going when you get back to the hotel, so you watch on a livestream. You’re still exhausted and fall asleep before it’s over.

Waking up the next morning is difficult. Your body feels heavy, like your bones are filled with lead. The chills seem worse than ever and you’re grateful you packed yourself a heavy sweater to wear that day. Not only is it warm, but it covers up the marks from where you’ve been scratching at the skin on your arms due to the incessant itching.

You have trouble concentrating on the training throughout the day. There was one alpha there, and he was somehow in every single session you attended. He didn’t have a bad scent per se, but his presence alone became overwhelming.

By the time the sessions are over, you feel exhausted. You debate skipping dinner altogether but know you at least need some food before you can start your walk to the United Center. The alpha, whose name you’ve learned is Andy, sits next to you at dinner. He seems nice enough, you don’t feel threatened by him, but you still want to finish dinner and get away from him as quickly as possible.

Once dessert is over you grab your bag, ready to escape. Andy stops you before you go, asking for your number. Without thinking you quickly say, “I have a boyfriend,” and hastily leave the restaurant.

You’re not far from the venue, only a few blocks away, and you’re so out of it that you barely notice where your legs are taking you. It only takes fifteen minutes to get there, but you’re on edge the whole time. Glancing at your watch you see that it’s just before 8PM, meaning Harry should still be backstage.

You’re tired, and dizzy, and a little fuzzy, but knowing you’re so close to seeing Harry again has you moving faster than you thought possible. You’ve even built up a slight sweat, and you feel warm for the first time in weeks causing you to roll up the sleeves of your sweater.

As you approach the building you hear your name being called. You turn to see Jada running up to you.

 “I didn’t think you’d be here so early! Glad I was talking to one of the security guards, you walked right past the entrance,” she says.

You smile as she hands you your VIP badge and leads you inside.

“Harry has a few minutes before he needs to finish getting ready. He’ll be glad you made it before he goes on, I know he’s been dying to see you,” Jada says, causing you to blush.

“Well, I can’t wait to see him either,” you reply.

She knocks on a door which opens a second later. The first person you see is Mitch, who gives you a hug as he says, “Hey kid, good to see you again.”

“You too!” you answer, somewhat surprised by the warm greeting.

Sarah’s there too, pulling you in to a hug next. The moment her arms wrap around your shoulders, you’re overcome with a wave of dizziness. Black spots flash in your vision and you blink rapidly to try and clear them.

“You okay, love?” she asks as she lets go and takes a step back.

After a couple deep breaths you answer, “I’m good. Practically ran here from dinner, still catching my breath I guess.”

Harry, who’s been quietly watching you quickly walks to the fridge and grabs a water bottle. You reach out your hand so he can pass it to you, and see his eyes focus on your arm. There’s no way he missed the angry red scratch marks there, but you immediately pull your sleeves back down to hide them anyway.

“Can we have a moment?” Harry asks, causing Mitch, Sarah, and Jada to promptly exit and close the door behind them. He motions to the couch, and you’re reminded of the last time the two of you were in his dressing room together.

Like the last time, you sit next to each other, but he seems to be giving you more space. This confuses you. If he’s so excited to see you, why didn’t he greet you with a hug like everyone else? And why is he so far away now? And why does he seem so serious instead of happy?

“Y/N, I have a question, and it’s kind of personal, but I’d like you to answer honestly,” he starts.

“Okay,” you reply, taken aback by this turn of events.

He’s quiet for a moment, seeming to think of exactly what he wants to ask. Finally, he settles on, “Where did those scratches come from?”

“My arms were itchy,” you reply. Not a lie, though probably not the full truth he’s looking for.

“And the dizziness? Cause I don’t think it was from your walk. You seemed fine until Sarah touched you. Until an alpha touched you.”

You know what he’s getting at. He’s no dummy. Just minutes after seeing you he’s figured out what you’ve been hiding for weeks. Hiding from everyone, including yourself.

He watches you, and you know he’s waiting for an answer. But you can’t think of one to give him. So, he continues, “Y/N, I think you have touch deprivation. Is that fair to say?”

You let out a shuddery breath and nod. “Yea, that’s fair to say.”

“It seems pretty severe.”

You finally decide to open up, saying, “It’s been getting worse the past couple weeks. I don’t think my meds are working anymore, and the soonest doctors appointment I could get still isn’t for a couple weeks.”

“I’m worried you’re close to a drop. Like, any minute now. Or that you’ll go under if I touch you. You realize that you were close with Sarah, right? That if you’d stayed in contact with her, or if she’d released any pheromones you’d be in a full drop right now?”

Part of you wants to snark back, yell at him for going full alpha male and acting like he knows your body better than you. But the problem is, he’s right. It’s been so long since the last time you dropped that you forgot what it’s like. You forgot what the signs are.

But now that he’s pointed out the obvious, you really start to feel it. He sees as you deflate, starting to fold in on yourself. His hand reaches out, wanting to comfort you in some way, but he can’t. He can’t risk sending you into a drop, not when he has a show to do in just twenty minutes.

“You’re right,” you finally say. “I didn’t realize it. I thought I was handling it, that I could make it to my doctor’s visit and get new soothers and I’d be okay. I just don’t know what to do if I don’t have meds that work.”

“I’d like to help you, if you’ll let me.”

You finally meet his eyes and see that he’s completely serious.

After a moment you nod and reply, “Okay.”

“Okay? You’ll let me help?”

“Yes. I don’t know what else to do. And uhm, I trust you. You’re a good person, Harry. A good alpha.”

He smiles at your words before glancing at the clock and saying, “I have to finish getting ready in a minute. I’d still like to hang out after the concert. I think it might be healthy for you to do a drop with me there, if you’re comfortable with that?”

“I mean, I don’t like dropping. It’s only happened to me twice before and I was alone each time, so they weren’t good experiences. But maybe it will be different if you’re there?”

“I can help you through it, if you’ll let me.”

“What would you do to help? Like, how do alphas help omegas through that?”

“It depends on what you consent to but ah, I would hold you, help you get the touch your omega needs. Most alphas will scent the omega. It lets them know that they’re not alone, that someone is there protecting them, keeping them safe while they can’t do so themselves. I’d also release calming pheromones to keep your omega relaxed.”

“Okay. I’m okay with all of that. I’d like that,” you answer. Truthfully you’re a bit nervous. Harry Styles has just offered to hold you, to scent you for goodness sakes. That’s incredibly intimate. But you’ve felt so awful for weeks, and there are still weeks to go before you can get new soothers. And this is kind of a dream come true.

“Do you want to stay here for the concert? You can hang in here or go to the VIP box. Or you can head to the hotel now and take it easy if you’d like,” he says.

“I’ll stay in here if that’s alright,” you reply.

“It’s more than alright,” he answers. “And if at any point you want to get out of here just text Jada. She can arrange a ride back to my hotel and I’ll meet you there after the show. Or if you change your mind she can get you a ride back to your hotel too.”

“Thank you, Harry. For everything.”

“Of course. I know I don’t know you all that well, but I care about you. Anyway, I uhm, need to get dressed so I’m just gonna step into the bathroom for a moment.”

“I can go in the hall for a minute, get out of your way-”

“Nonsense. You’re not in the way. I’ll be right back.”

Harry finishes getting ready, and you make yourself comfortable on the couch. A couple of people come in, touching up his hair and make-up and before you know it he’s heading to the stage.

You watch on the screen in the room for the first few songs. After a while Jada joins you and you ask if you can watch from the VIP section for a bit. It goes well until Harry and the band take a break. You’d been so focused on the music that you were distracted from everything else around you.

But now all you can hear are all the other people, and it’s overwhelming. It becomes difficult to breathe, and you start to see dark spots once again.

You turn to Jada, and she immediately leads you back to the dressing room.

“Do you want to wait for Harry, or do you want to leave now?” she asks.

“I think I should go,” you reply.

“To your hotel, or his?”

“Harry’s, please.”

“Okay, wait here, I’ll get the car and come back for you in a minute.”

You sit back on the couch, seeking out Harry’s scent to calm you, but it’s barely noticeable.

Jada comes back and you follow her to the car. It’s a quiet ride to the hotel, and once there, she goes with you to the suite.

His room is on the top floor. It’s big, basically a full apartment, and you stay in what seems to be the living room. Jada sits on the couch with you, and you say, “I feel like you have more important things to do than babysit me.”

She laughs and says, “It’s not babysitting. I like hanging out with you. And you’re a priority to Harry. Which makes you a priority to me.”

The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence for a while until Jada’s phone buzzes. “Shows over,” she says. “Harry’s just getting changed and then he’ll be here soon. He said you can borrow some of his clothes if you want to get comfy.”

You hesitate and she adds, “I have no problem going through his stuff. I can grab you some clothes if you want.” You laugh at that and nod.

A short while later you’ve changed into a pair of Harry’s sweatpants, as well as a t-shirt and hoodie. They smell like him, and you shamelessly inhale the scent you’ve been craving for weeks. The suite door opens, and Harry walks in, looking incredibly cozy in his own pair of sweats.

“Thank you, Jada,” he says. “Get some rest, you’ve earned it.”

“Night guys,” she says as she leaves the room.

You’re left alone with Harry. It feels different, here in his hotel room, surrounded by his belongings, while you’re wearing his clothes.

“You left early,” he says.

“Sorry,” you reply.

“Don’t be. I’m just worried as to why you left.”

“I was just overwhelmed. Needed some quiet.”

“I understand. Y/N, are you ready for this? You still seem on the edge of a drop.”

“I’m ready.”

“And have you changed your mind about anything? Or is it okay if I hold and scent you through this?”

You pause for a moment, scared at how vulnerable you’re about to be. “I haven’t changed my mind. I want you to do that. I trust you.”

He takes a step towards you. “Thank you, for trusting me. We’ll probably be more comfortable in the bed.”

“Lead the way,” you say.

It’s awkward at first, the two of you sitting next to each other in his bed, backs resting against the headboard.

He turns to you and says, “Can I hold you now?”

You nod, and his arms wrap around you, pulling you until you’re tucked under his chin and resting against his chest.

Everything starts to get fuzzy, and you feel yourself losing consciousness. It’s an unsettling feeling, but you know that Harry is there to help you through this.

The last thing you hear before it all goes black is Harry calmly saying, “I’ve got you. Let go. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Harry can’t describe the helplessness he feels as you go limp in his arms. He doesn’t allow himself to stress, or panic, knowing that his emotions will impact you. Instead, he takes some calming breaths and thinks through everything he knows he needs to do in this situation.

He hears you whimper quietly as you start to shiver, and he doesn’t hesitate to soothe you. It takes some maneuvering, but soon you’re both laying down in the bed. He tucks his nose into your neck and begins to scent you, releasing calming pheromones until you relax.

It continues this way for the next couple of hours. Harry holds you, and scents you, his nose rubbing against the gland in your neck. During one moment when you seem particularly distressed he can’t help but place kisses there to soothe you faster.

Finally, you start to stir. It takes longer than Harry had anticipated, so he’s relieved when your eyes meet his after hours of being closed.

“Hey there,” he says with a soft smile.

“Hi,” you answer groggily. “How long?”

“Couple hours. Your inner omega needed the rest. Now you need some too. Go to sleep, I’ve got you.”

It’s the same words he said before you dropped. You wish you could hear that all the time. No one has cared for you before, not like this. It feels good, but you remind yourself not to get used to it. Still, you curl into his embrace, enjoying every moment of contact with Harry that you can get.

The next thing you know, it’s late morning. You’re still cuddling against Harry, and his deep breaths indicate he’s still sleeping.

You feel amazing. You’re nice and warm, your mind is clear, and the constant itch and restlessness are nonexistent. You’re extremely grateful, but at the same time, you’re annoyed that you need to depend on another person just to feel normal. But you don’t dwell on that. Because Harry is starting to stir next to you.

“Hey,” he says when your eyes meet his. “How do you feel? Sleep okay?” God, you could melt at the gravelly sound of his morning voice.

“I’m good. Feel better than I have in a long time. And according to that clock, I slept wonderfully.” The two of you laugh, seeing that it’s nearly noon.  

“I was hoping to treat you to a nice breakfast, but I guess I missed the window on that,” Harry says, continuing to laugh with you. “I do still have plenty of time before I need to be at the arena. Would you like to spend the afternoon with me exploring Chicago?”

“I’d love to,” you reply. His face breaks out in a huge smile before he leans down, once again running his nose along your scent gland. You go limp at the feeling, happily submitting to him.

You don’t think about the fact that this is temporary. That you leave to fly home tomorrow afternoon. That you’ll be without his alpha scent once again.

Instead, you think about the hours you have ahead of you, hours to spend with Harry. Nothing could be more perfect.  

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AN: Thank you so much for reading! This was one of the scenes I imagined when I first thought of the story and I'm so happy that it's finally shared with you all!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz @fictionalmensblog @buckybarnessimpp

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Will Halstead (Ft Platonic! Jay Halstead): I'll Call Will 

This was supposed to be short! Why can’t I ever just write a page or two? Oh well- I like how it turned out. I have no medical knowledge and I made shit up.

This is like my People We Love story reversed regarding it being more Platonic Jay x reader than Will x reader.  

You shift and feel Jay’s eyes shoot to you. He had been eyeing you like a bomb that was about to explode since he got to your and Will’s apartment two hours ago. You were trying to ignore him and his detective's gaze, but it was starting to get irritating. “You know if you keep it up, I’m going to take your fun uncle shirt and replace it with a worry wart one.” 

“You’ve been having cramps off and on since I got here, and you don’t look like you feel good.” You roll your eyes at your brother-in-law affectionately. Shooting him an amused look from across the couch and resting your hand on your prominent baby bump. 

“It must be that glow everyone talks about. I'm almost seven months pregnant, Jay. Braxton Hicks is normal.” What you don’t want to tell him as they had been becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. You hadn’t gotten off the couch since he got here because you felt lightheaded with a side of vertigo. “I went to the OB last week for an appointment. They said everything was just fine. No problems, no restrictions.” You tell him and remind yourself.  

You were trying to take the pregnancy in stride. People had babies in fields for years but it didn’t mean you didn’t get nervous sometimes. You had never been pregnant before and didn’t know what to expect and you had learned the hard way that Will was not the one to ask. He was a wealth of information. Too much information. It often made your anxiety worse after talking to him rather than better. He had too many horror stories from the ED.  

Jay looked unconvinced but dropped the subject and went back to watching the trashy TV show you had turned on. The two of you watched another episode and a half with rounds of minor cramping on your part. The commercial was just ending when a cramp so painful jolted through your belly that it made you grab at it and whimper. When you blink Jay is in front of you. He looks angry but you have known him long enough to know it was actually worry clouding his features. “Okay that’s it we are going to the hospital.” 

“Jay, I don’t think-” He doesn’t even let you finish your thought. 

“You either let me take you to the hospital right now or I’ll call Will.” You search Jay’s eyes. “Your choice.” He is clearly over it and reaches for his cell. You can just imagine your husband after a call like that. He would leave work and speed home in a mad dash to get to you. You would feel so bad if he did all that for a few Braxton Hick contractions.   

“Okay! Okay, fine, let’s go.” Jay wastes no getting you to your feet and out of the apartment steering you to his car. “Just what the world needed another Doctor Halstead, Will will be so proud.” You tell him before Jay rolls his eyes and closes the car door. 

You sit in the hospital bed waiting for the OB to come back.  Your doctor was out today and the woman that came in was all warm smiles and a reassuring tone. She must have been new because you didn’t recognize her or her name. “It looks like the cramping is just Braxton Hicks. It’s completely normal and nothing to worry about.” You looked over at Jay who had been lurking near the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“What? It was better to get you checked out just in case.” Jay’s tone is defensive, and you roll your eyes lovingly at your brother-in-law. The OB smiled at him and patted him comfortingly on the arm. 

“It is a good thing that he brought you in.” You look at the woman in surprise because her tone goes serious. “Your blood pressure is much higher than I would like. Have you been under more stress than normal lately?” You sigh as you begrudgingly tell her about your increased workload. “Have you been feeling more fatigued than normal? Lightheaded, dizzy, or any vertigo?”  

“I’m almost seven months pregnant, isn’t feeling off kind of normal?” You put your hand on your rounded stomach protectively. 

“It can be but with your blood pressure being so high it’s concerning. I’m going to order a blood panel just to be on the safe side. Now, let’s take a peek at this baby.” The ultrasound is all normal. the OB points out your baby's face and hand. You look over at Jay who is watching the screen in awe. He had seen the pictures, but this was a new experience. He breathed a quiet wow as the quick heartbeat of the baby filled the room. “It all looks good. It shouldn’t take long for that panel then you will be good to go.” 

A familiar nurse that you can’t name comes in and draws your blood. “Maybe I should message Will and let him know we are here.” Jay pulls his phone out of his pocket and begins typing. 

“Why so he can wait with us? He is working- leave him alone. Besides that was our deal, wasn’t it? There isn’t an emergency.” Jay holds his hands up in surrender. “And will you sit down please- your pacing is driving me crazy.” Jay flops into the chair giving you a ‘happy now’ look. “Geez, it’s like having a real brother.” 

“Yeah, and you're stuck with me. You and that bean, you got growing.” 

You smile caressing your stomach, “I’m good with that.” As much as you had fought him on it, it was nice to know that he cared enough to drag you to the hospital. Jay was protective and you knew he was going to be a lot more than just the fun uncle who only stopped by when he felt like treating your kid to a good time. “Can I ask you something?” At his nod, you continued, “Why were you at my apartment at 2 in the afternoon on a day you knew Will worked a double? Did Will ask you to check up on me?” 

“No,” You gave him a look of disbelief, “No, really, he didn’t. He didn’t ask me to come over or anything like that. He just mentioned that he thought you may not have been feeling good the last few days. So, I just wanted to make sure that you were- Are you crying?”  

You were.  

You had big crocodile tears running down your cheeks, “It’s the hormones. And honestly, that is just the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” More tears streamed down your face and Jay looked uncertain of what to do. When he saw a strategically placed tissue box, he grabbed it and held it out to you. You grabbed a few and started dabbing at your eyes. Your own family hadn’t been part of your life much since you had moved to Chicago. Not that they had been very good to you throughout your childhood into your twenties. You felt like you looked out for them more than they ever would for you. “I hope you know that I appreciate you and I’m so glad you are going to be in this baby's life. I love you, Jay.” He looked a little miffed but flattered as he rubbed your back soothingly.  

“Of course, I love you too.” 

You had gathered your raging emotions by the time the OB had returned. “Alright, everything looks good. I’m not going to put you on bed rest, but I highly encourage you to take it easy for the next few days.” You thank her and swing your legs over the bed to start the process of getting up, which is much harder now with a protruding belly. The woman paused in the doorway before turning and taking another step back into the room. You and Jay both look at her. “You know, another good natural way to get your blood pressure down is by having sex. I don’t see any problems with you having sexual activity right now. And with the looker you got- I would take every opportunity you get before the baby is the one keeping you up at night.” The doctor gives you a knowing wink before exiting the room. 

You look over to see a mortified Jay. His eyes were closed tightly, and he brought his hand to scrub down the bottom half of his face. The woman had barely made it out the door when you started laughing uncontrollably. When Will walked into the room less than a minute later and looked at you in bemusement as you tried to catch your breath. “Everything okay?” 

You immediately sober, “I told you not to bother him!” Will walked over to your bedside and helped you shuffle off the bed. His hand came to rest in its now familiar place on your stomach.  

“He didn’t, Maggie saw your name on some bloodwork. Are you okay? Everything okay with the baby?” Will’s face was furrowed with concern. You put your hand over his stroking your thumb across his knuckles.  

“Everything is fine. I had some cramping and Jay took me in to be on the safe side. It was just Braxton Hicks.” Some of the tension left Will but you can tell he is still on alert. “My blood pressure is a little high. But don’t worry, the doc thinks it is just from stress. She told me I should take it easy for a few days and gave me a few...natural ways to bring it down.” Will furrowed his brow trying to think of what you could be referring to. Then he turned when he heard Jay cough and mutter something under his breath. Will looked between the two of you knowing he had missed something.  

You give him a soft smile, “I’ll explain later. But really, don't worry, okay. I’m just going to spend the day on the couch watching Love is Blind. Taking it easy and relaxing, just like she said.” You push up on your toes and oblige you by leaning down for a kiss. “Now, I really have to go to the bathroom.” You say as you make a beeline for the public bathroom down the hall.  

“Is she really, okay? It must have been pretty bad for her to feel like she needed to call you.” Will looked even more worried after you left the room. Jay rested his hand on his shoulder to comfort his older brother. He knew that Will had been trying his hardest to keep all of his own worry as a doctor from bleeding into you. He had been trying hard to do everything at your pace and not overstep the line of future dad to doctor. It hadn’t always been a struggle he won. It didn’t help that you hated hospitals and felt like less was more when it came to OB appointments. You had a tendency to cancel and never reschedule them much to his frustration.  

“She’s okay. I was actually already over there. She started getting some cramping and I kind of forced her to come here to get checked out.” A guilty look crossed Jay's face. 

“Forced her?” Will found that hard to believe. It was like pulling teeth to force you into doing anything. You had a stubborn streak to match the Halstead clan. 

“Well, more of an ultimatum really. I told her she could either agree to come in or I'd call you.”  

Will hummed in understanding, that sounded way more plausible. “You were already over there? I thought I told you I was working a double.” 

“You did.” Jay agreed, “You also told me she had been feeling well.”  

The gratitude that Will felt for his brother at that moment was overwhelming. “Thanks, man. I’m glad you were there. It means a lot.” 

“You would have done the same for me,” Jay stated simply, “Besides that what you do for family.” He sighed heavily, “That’s why after I buy her the pizza she has been talking about for the last hour, I’m going to sit down on the couch with her and watch that trash she calls TV. I’ll make sure she is all good until you get home.” 

[missmeinyourbones]

TWO IS BETTER THAN ONE (suna x reader)

cw: implied AFAB reader (baby bump), lots of mentions of pregnancy & parenthood, doctors office talk, i think reader is referred to as mom twice ?? expecting-dad!suna, slightly suggestive bc he’s annoying. you know i’ve officially locked in a character when i start writing parent content for them LMFAO

part two

The plush chair of the doctor’s office is surprisingly comfortable, or maybe it’s the fact that your body aches with a soreness that can’t be relieved for another 6 months.

It’s not your first time making yourself cozy in the chair, nor is it your husband’s first time sitting beside you, palms locked together as he mindlessly rubs circles to your knuckles. 

However, it is your first time being this big at a doctor’s appointment, now approaching your second trimester and growing by (what feels like) the second.

The pressure in your back slightly fades with the support of the pillowy examination chair. Between it’s relieving comfort and Suna’s relaxing touches, you almost find yourself drifting off to sleep while waiting for the obstetrician. 

Lucky you, Suna’s voice lures you back to reality.

“If it’s a girl, you owe me twenty bucks,” he mumbles against your hand, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to the cold back of your palm. As his tongue briefly swipes the skin, he faintly tastes the hand sanitizer you used after entering the room.

He grins when you tsk at his comment before reminding him, “We are not betting money on the sex of our child.”

He sighs in faux disappointment before pretending to mull over your empty scold.

“Fine, if it’s a girl… you have to blow me,” he settles on, looking rather pleased with the compromise. 

“That’s what got us pregnant in the first place, Rin.”

“Technically, no. What got us pregnant was when you—”

“And if it’s a boy?” you’re quick to cut off whatever crude memory weighs heavy on his tongue. 

“If it’s a boy...” he takes a moment to think the possibility over before his eyes light up with cocky realization, “then I’ll never ask you to get on top, ever again.”

His grin grows when your laughter echoes throughout the room. “Fucking deal,” you give in with little to no persuasion needed. 

The doctor knocks a pattern on the door, and you’re suddenly overwhelmingly grateful that she didn’t choose to knock thirty seconds prior. She waits for your call of confirmation before entering the room with a soft, reserved smile.

Not an obstetrician you’ve met with before, but not still adorned with professionalism, she greets the two of you with a comforting hospitality. Once all introductions and updates are out of the way, she slides her stool over where you sit. Suna doesn’t move from your side, even when the doctor struggles to wiggle in between his chair and the counter to squeeze by. 

“Alright, Mom and Dad, let’s take a look,” she slides on a pair of plastic gloves, signaling for you to lift your shirt and expose your bump. 

You wince slightly when she rubs the cool gel across your sensitive skin, and though he chuckles beneath his breath at your reaction, you feel Suna’s hand gently squeeze yours a few times in reassurance. 

The two of you watch intently as the doctor cautiously drags the transducer around your stomach, searching for the clearest image of your growing baby. Switching positions a few times, she points out a handful of quick images including tiny toes and twitching fingers. 

With the heartwarming flashes on the monitor, Suna excitedly remembers your harmless bet. He shifts in his chair, now impatient to prove you wrong. 

“Do you know if we can find out the gender today?”

The doctor wears a expression of doubt, “No, I don’t think so. Since there’s two of them, they’re tinier than babies normally are at this point in the pregnancy. You should be able to find out at your next appointment when—”

Your heart thumps heavily in your chest. You interrupt her mid-explanation, “Sorry, two of them?”

The doctor removes her focused gaze from the monitor and over to where the two of you gawk at her casual reveal of such an important, life-altering detail. 

“Yeah, you’re having twins,” her eyes wearily flicker between you and your husband. “Did you…not know that already?”

“The last doctor didn’t say anything about twins,” Suna retorts with surprise that somehow still drips of sarcasm, “think we would’ve remembered that part.”

Still in shock, you don’t have it in you to berate his impolite comment. Instead, your eyes remain bulging at the monitor displaying a black and white blob of baby, or rather babies. 

You do your best to keep your tone level as you digress, “You’re sure you’re reading it correctly?”

The doctor confirms with a confident nod, “Positive.”

Her hand returns to navigating the transducer around your stomach, gliding it in all different angles to attempt to prove her conclusion. 

“There’s one,” she stops on an image that though shaky, clearly depicts the outline of a head.

“And...there’s two,” she grins, slightly moving the device a bit to the left to reveal another identical forming head.

She goes between the two images as proof before applauding, “Congratulations, double the fun.”

The rest of the appointment whizzes by in a blur of disbelief and anticipation. The doctor books your next appointment, as well as giving you multiple pamphlets on your next trimester, explaining in simple terms what changes and symptoms to expect. You nod along, only half-listening as the thumping of your heart in your chest distracts you. 

She eventually leaves with the same friendliness she came with, but the room feels different from before she entered. There’s a hovering uneasiness that suffocates your thoughts. If your silence wasn’t loud enough, your heavy breathing was an indicator for Suna to bounce into action. 

He brings his idle hand up to your cheek, letting his fingers gently caress the clammy skin. 

“Y’okay, pretty?” he cautiously mumbles, eyes flickering over your dazed expression. 

Realizing how alarming your silence must be, you bring yourself to nod in reassurance. “Yeah. I mean it’s insane, but I’m okay,” you truthfully bare before turning the tables with a hesitant whisper.

“Are you?”

You anxiously await his response, because though unexpected and jarring to say the very least, you know that you can handle twins. A blessing of good karma granted to you through the form of an extra heartbeat. It’s incredible, but ultimately, you know it’s not what Suna signed up for. 

You haven’t a clue of where his head is at. Maybe this is too much for him, maybe he’s second guessing everything he knows about being an expecting father, maybe this is all he needed to up and abandon this whole relationship and—

“Are you kidding?” his voice is soft, but the smile on his face is anything but as it spreads from ear to ear, “I’m fucking amped.”

You don’t realize you started crying until his fingers are wet with salt and his coos are pressed into your skin. You laugh in relief at his giddy response, all emotion and stress and fear leaving your body through a release of happy tears. 

“Good,” you release a wet laugh before leaning further into his touch, “it’s just shocking, y’know?” 

Suna nods with an empathy he saves just for you, “I know, but we’ll be fine.” His words, though shaky and unverified, leave you feeling an instant wave of comfort. He squeezes your hand again before insisting, “Just gotta adjust the plan, right?”

You exhale, slumping against his shoulder, “Right.”

He places a few warm kisses to your temple, before allowing them to crawl to your forehead and cheeks. In between smooches against your skin, he murmurs.

“I mean,” kiss, “you were already gonna be a great mom to one kid,” kiss, “now you’re just gonna be a great mom to two,” kiss, kiss, kiss. 

He allows himself to hover over your lips for a moment, whispering the promise of a lifetime before allowing himself to kiss you where you need him the most.

“We’ll be alright, all four of us,” he concludes with a toothy smooch. 

You reaffirm his words against his lips, “We’ll be alright.”

Suna pulls away, getting a good look at you as he wipes any stray tears away he missed before. Like a cat, you purr beneath his touch and borderline nuzzle into the warmth of his hand. 

“Plus,” his eyebrows arch in a playful manner, “this just means that I fucked you so good, it knocked you up twice.”

Your scoff-chuckle hybrid is almost immediate, but still he marks it as a victory in his books. 

“Don’t think that’s how it works, Rin.”

“Just let me have it, will you?”

The moment is sweet, the only noises in the room being your shared breathing and the ticking of the clock hanging from the wall. The sudden jolt of Suna sitting up contrasts the peaceful moment. 

“Oh shit,” he furrows his eyebrows in deep thought. 

“What?!” you jump up from your seat, or try to. Within milliseconds, your husband’s cradling your stomach with one hand while sitting you back down with the other. 

“Careful, baby, sit down,” he breathlessly reprimands as he ushers you back into the seat, “It’s nothing, I just...realized something.” 

You glare at him with anxious expectancy, and he merely shakes his head in disbelief before grumbling out.  

“The Miya’s are gonna find this fucking hilarious.”

[witchygirlgray333]

Journal prompts / ideas

Poems (either ones you've written or just ones you enjoy or connect with)

Book review

Film review

Write about your day

Collage

Vision board

Habit tracker

Calendar page

Notes from something you're learning

Quotes you like

Draw some outfits you like

Search up creative writing prompts and do those

Meditate and write down your thoughts before / during / after (I don't do this everytime or sometimes I'll only write afterwards but when I write before, during and after it's always really interesting to read back on and see how much has changed)

Stickerbomb page

Films to watch

Books to read

Wishlist

Bucket list

Highlight of the day (I like to have a page in my journal where I write a short sentence of my favourite thing that happened that day, it's nice to look back on and it's nice especially for days when I'm not feeling well enough to do a longer entry)

Gratitude list

Random thoughts

Drawings and sketches (I'm not even good at drawing but I love drawing or sketching in my journals and just expressing myself)

This one is more for chronically ill people but making notes for doctor / hospital appointments which helps so much! I have severe memory loss so a lot of the time I'll turn up to an appointment and have totally forgotten about anything I'd hoped to say so this has been a total lifesaver

Along with what I said in my last point about living with severe memory loss my whole journal works towards helping me deal with living with the memory loss. I'll probably do another post soon about more in depth ideas for journaling to help life with memory loss but I write down SO MUCH. I've got to do lists, a calendar page, my night routine (I'll also have my morning routine written down once I've actually worked one out!), things I need to do everyday (such as brushing my teeth, washing my face etc), contact info for people I'm close to, labelled photos of my loved ones (it can be really scary when I don't recognise people so having these pages really help), a list of things I can do throughout the day (I'm on bedrest but having a list of things that I enjoy doing written down is a nice reminder, some of the things on the list at the moment are make tiktok videos, do makeup, watch a movie or tv show, journal, scrapbook etc)