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#steve celebrates both mother's day and father's day
scuttle-buttle · 2 days
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Co-Pilots
Nobody asked for this. I have the flu. I needed something nice to focus on and apparently this was it. Blame @lorna-d-m my partner in crime :) also kudos to winniemaywebber and sagesolscitcewrites because i def read all their stuff and was vibing it and the pet names and stuff sooo hard
Rated: 18+
Word Count: approx. 3k
Tags: MMF, fluff and reassurance, mentions of wartime ptsd, body confidence issues, mentions of having children, PiV sex, female receiving oral, male receiving oral, voyeurism, no stated use of contraception
A/N: Croz is referred to as Crosby, Harry, and Bing in this (so as not to confuse). And idk what rank Rosie is by this point so were just going with Major
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The bright lights blinded you the first time you walked through New York City; tonight was no different. Flashes of neon whites, golds, blues, reds, lit up your path as you entered the lobby to the Ritz hotel. Your husband had made arrangements for you to meet him in the city much as he had a near 2 years ago during the height of the war. You wanted to meet him at the airport. Crosby insisted he find you at the hotel. And now, with Hitler defeated, he was on his way home. For good. 
His phone call had startled you. Usually, you wrote him weekly, sometimes more if you felt lonesome. Harry’s letters were less frequent, but no less loving. Little Steve kept you more than busy most days, back home safe terrorizing your mother and father while you got some rest and relaxation with your Bing in the big city. The toddler was a shining light in your dark days. He had the same dark curls, the same downturned eyes as his father. A piece of your love that was yours no matter what the war brought - or took.
You’d nearly lost your footing when you heard his voice, gruff and mellow, across the line. Darlin’ it's me, he'd said, I'm coming home but I've got some business to finish in the city, meet me there. I'm bringing Rosie, you remember him yeah? Said he'll take us dancing at the best jazz spots. I love you Mrs. Crosby. See you soon.
Now you wait in the lobby for your love and his friend.
Minutes tick by as you wait. Maybe the plane was late? Maybe they had to meet somewhere after landing to debrief? Maybe there was a problem with the engine? Just as your maybes started to drown out the chatter and bustle around you a voice rang out.
“Well ho-ly mackerel, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes Mrs. Crosby.”
The sight of your husband had you dashing into his waiting arms. Tears streamed down your face as you kissed him senseless over and over and over. Crosby couldn’t contain his laughter at your reaction, nor did he bother hiding it when he wiped his eyes dry. 
“I’ve missed you so much Bing.”
His forehead rested on yours. “God how I’ve missed you too, Darlin’.” 
Over his shoulder you notice a taller man, stylish moustache and curls neatly gelled into place, attempting to avert his eyes and give your reunion privacy. You were struck by how attractive he was. “Bing?”
“Oh!” Harry takes a step back. “Darlin’ this is Robert Rosenthal - or Rosie as us boys like to call him.”
Rosie gives a toothy smile and holds out his hand for a firm shake; “so nice to meet you, Mrs. Crosby. Croz here has told me all about you.”
Giving your husband a raised eyebrow, you ask “all good things I hope?”
Both men chuckle. “Only the best, ma’am.” 
The three of you settled into your rooms before deciding that a celebration was in order. Rosie commandeered the evening, promising only the best jazz New York had to offer. Drinks flowed, the band jived, and couples danced the night away. 
Night after night, Rosie took you somewhere new. You’d split your time whirling the dancefloor between both your husband and his pilot friend, never satisfied until your feet ached. Harry claimed all the slow dances, nestled up close to your body. But Rosie? He got the fast-paced, jumping, hip swaying swing that Crosby claimed he couldn’t keep up with. Two left feet, he’d claim. Each morning after you slept in the plush, luxurious Ritz bed until lunchtime while they attended to their military duties. 
Friday rolled around. It had been a week of this routine. You should’ve been exhausted, you should’ve wanted to slow down - after all you were no spring chicken anymore. Yet, something about being in the arms of your husband and Rosie as you swayed to Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman, and Glen Miller felt so right. 
When the barkeep yelled for “last call” you knew it was time to retire for the evening.
“Say, why don’t you come have a nightcap in our room, Rosie? Crosby asked.
The three of you settle into the living room of the suite assigned to you and your husband. Bing plops into an armchair with a satisfied huff. You join Rosenthal on the loveseat, a respectable distance inbetween. A bottle of whisky sits open on the fireplace mantle. Conversation comes and goes as the trio fall from the high of the night. It’s easy. Almost makes the boys forget the horrors they endured in Europe. 
Around 1am the conversation begins to lull as you finish regaling the group with a story of the shenanigans you and your girlfriends would get up to during university days. “-You think you boys were bad flying all around in your skivvies, but it was nothing compared to us girls that night!” Laughter filled the room until all had let it trickle to a close; the silence was warm like the fireplace embers. Robert sat enraptured by your story, by your beauty, by the thought of you under that blue dress and all your curves. He knew he shouldn’t have noticed…..he was just a man after all. And with the things he’d seen? Could you really blame him?
“How long’s it been Rosie?” The question broke the man’s gaze from you and directed it towards Crosby. He didn’t know it was so obvious. 
Rosie was about to stumble out an answer, an apology for looking at you like that, he doesn’t know, when Croz interrupts again. “When’s the last time you felt the touch of a good woman, Rosie?” Harry waits for an answer. Rosenthal can feel his face heat; he runs his fingers through his hair mussing the curls out of place. This confident Crosby was much bolder than the one he’d met when he first shipped out to the 100th. “Before the war?” There is no judgment in his eyes, no disdain or hesitation towards his comrade as he asks. Rosie shakes his head in affirmation. His glass clinks against the table as he sets it down, whisky unfinished.
Crosby sighs. “Too long.”
“Too damn long…” Rosie agrees in a mumble. 
You sit and watch the boys in rapt attention before meeting Bing's chocolatey eyes. Rosenthal is a good man, a great one from what your husband’s letters proved, and he deserves kindness and softness after all he’s been through. They both do. A delicate hand moves to rest on Rosie’s knee where he sits next to you. His brow furrows. The Major flits his gaze between you and your husband.
In all seriousness Crosby says “It’s alright, I don’t mind.” He tilts his head forward in permission, a silent go ahead. 
The navigator noticed how Rosie looked at you all night, how you returned the glances like a game of chicken. Each admiring but neither willing to do anything about it. How the two of you danced around the club without a care in the world at his insistence. He hadn’t seen Rosie smile like that in ages. He knew you hadn’t laughed like that since before he announced he was heading to the front. You definitely were reveling in the attention of both men tonight. This was never something you had discussed with your husband; somehow you just knew each other well enough even after so long apart to know that it was okay. It was something you both wanted.
Your fingers drifted higher on Rosie’s thigh; not enough to be indecent, but enough to get the message across. His larger palm came to rest atop yours, stopping the movement. “You uh- you’re okay with this?” the Brooklyn native questioned. 
Without hesitation you reassure “I am.” 
In a measured, almost odd approach Rosenthal shifts towards you. His lips hover over your cheek for a moment before the softest kiss brushes your skin. The whiskers of his mustache tickle. You can’t help the grin that threatens to break. He continues to kiss along your cheek, once, twice, thrice, each getting closer to your waiting lips. Finally, his chapped lips meet yours. This kiss is awkward at first as he gathers his bearing, quickly finding a rhythm as if no time had passed since he last kissed a pretty dame.
Crosby sunk deeper into his chair as he watched. He could feel the tell-tale sign of his slacks becoming tighter as he watched his best girl and his best friend. “She loves it when you kiss her neck,” he instructed with that smirk of his. Rosie dragged his lips to your throat. “Little lower-” again he shifted “-right there.” A moan slipped from your parted lips as your body warred with the directions from your husband and the attentions from your lover. 
The room felt stifling. Rosie’s coat, your dress, his shirt, your stockings, his trousers, your brassiere - each fluttered off to the floor one by one. Even Bing had lost his button down. 
The Major guided you onto your back along the couch, trailing open mouthed kisses down your sternum, along your breasts. A moment of clarity passed your mind that your body was different now than the last time you had been made love to, whether by your husband or not, since the baby. Your breasts weren't as pert, your stomach was softer than it used to be. Lips pursed, you let out a small sigh. 
“What’s wrong darlin’?” Bing asked. The navigator leaned towards you, brushing a strand of fallen hair from your face. “You know I can read you better than any map.” Rosie stopped and rested his chin on your abdomen to look up. 
“We can stop,” Rosie offered.
“No, It’s silly…” you tried to brush off.
Both men came to your defense immediately. Looking between the two you finally settle on your husband’s face. “It’s just that… since the last time we saw each other I’m different. My body changed and- I don’t know. I want it to be enough for you. For you both,” you add with a look to Rosie.
Crosby drops from the chair to his knees before you. “My pretty girl.” He kisses you slowly. “We’ve all changed.” From below Rosie adds nothing is the same. “You are still the most beautiful, most incredible, woman I’ve ever seen. Gosh - you’re my wife. Mrs. Crosby! I would fight to the ends of the earth to come home to you.” Softer he adds “I did fight to come home to you… and to bring this flak-happy bastard along too,” he laughed, nudging his elbow at his mate. “Now be a good girl and let us treat you right.” At your nod Rosie resumes his ascent down your waiting body. 
With a flourish your panties are gone, your dripping center exposed to his hungry stare. “What does she like, Croz? Because I'm not stopping until she comes begging all over my tongue.” He licks a deep stripe along your slit. “Sweet as sugar, babydoll.” Gone is the man unsure of himself, and in place is a god amongst men who knows exactly what he wants. It’s all you can do to hold on as Rosie devours you at your husband’s suggestions. Fingers dig into the cushions, tangle into his curls as you writhe under him. 
Rosie puts in his best effort to undo you; your husband saunters up to your face, his pants long forgotten. Cock stiff and ready, dripping with need, he runs the tip of his thumb against your bottom lip. Your teeth nibble at the pad.  “Think you can take me too, darlin’?” A whimpered please is all that comes out.
A cacophony of moans fills the air as your senses are assaulted - Rosie latched to your pussy like a lifeline and your Crosby’s cock deep inside your mouth. “That’s it darlin’, just like that. I bet you missed me, huh? I can tell you did, sweet girl. Fuck I missed you….” 
You gave him everything you had as you licked and sucked at his length. You could have sworn it was bigger than you remembered. He could tell by the look in your eyes you were getting closer, hell he was too. Lord knew he didn’t want to finish like some schoolboy in your lovely mouth. Crosby pulled himself out and you gasped for air. Cheeks flushed and sweat dripping down your temple he turned to his partner. “Use your fingers Rose, drives her wild when you crook them up inside her ‘n don't be afraid to get rough - give her a nip.” He punctuated the end of his command with a nip of his own to your throat. Rosie did exactly as instructed, sending you careening further to the edge and hips bucking.
“Oh- please Rosie- oh god don’t stop-” tumbles out as you start to fall. You swear you feel him humming against your clit as his fingers burn pleasure into your skin.
“That’s it darlin’, just let go for him. Being such a good girl for us,” croons your Bing.
When it all gets too much you gently push him from you. He goes gracefully, dropping chaste kisses to your thighs and hips. Despite feeling like a bowl of jello you remember your purpose tonight - to give Rosie a proper homecoming. 
Sitting up you demand he rid himself of his trousers. 
He grins. “Yes ma’am.” 
Just as Rosie goes to cover your body again you place your hand on his broad chest, pushing until he is in a sitting position. You quickly seat yourself over his lap, his length resting against you. Grinding down, he grunts. “Let me take care of you Rosie, it’s okay.” Kissing his temple, the corner of his mouth, his Adam's apple, you repeat “I want to take care of you dear, let me.”
With another roll of your hips he enters you. He feels different than your husband, but no less wonderful. Rosie’s hands land firmly on your hips as you rock above him. He knows he won't last long, you feel too good. “God Croz how do you do it? She’s so- ugh fuck” he grunts, head tossed back as you squeeze his length. 
“I know, Rose, I know. Just like heaven.” Your husband rubs your back as you move.
Rosenthal buries his face in the crook of your neck, his whimpers muffled so that only you can hear. There are no words for him to describe this feeling: the feeling of being comforted, the feeling of warmth, the feeling of home inside you, even if just for tonight. He almost feels a tear spring to his eyes. Circling your arms around his shoulders you remind him that you’ve got him, that he’s safe, that you're here. You pick up the pace as you ride him, bringing him closer and closer to his fate. His pelvis bucks up to meet yours with every roll.
“Honey I- I’m getting real close.”
You seal your lips on his; “I’ve got you, Rosie. I want you to come for me dear.”
With a deep groan he lifts you off his cock, his spend covering your stomachs and lap in a sticky mess. You hold him as he comes down from his high. 
“That was wonderful, thank you…just, thank you.” You kiss him once more; he knows he doesn’t have to thank you for anything, but he does because he’s Rosie. He carefully cleans you of his come with his discarded undershirt.
Crosby drops his lips to the crown of your head, beginning to pull the pins out of your carefully styled hair. “Come here, Darlin’.” He helps to lift you from his colleagues’ lap. “I wanna make love to my wife.” 
In seconds you’re on the floor under Crosby, his cock already buried to the hilt within you. Neither of you move as you both enjoy the feel of each other reunited as husband and wife. Whispered streams of I love you and I missed you and fuck you feel so good tumble from your lips, barely an inch apart. Harry would never need a map to know the curves, the sensitive spots, the constellations of beauty marks on your body - he knew it better in his memory than any map he could chart.
Besides you on the couch Rosie has slumped over to lay down, his arm hanging off towards you. Every breath of your husband’s puffs against your neck, every tickle of hair from across his chest reminds you that he’s here and he’s alive and he’s yours. Emotion overwhelmed you; “Bing, love please, I need you.”
Crosby hitches your thigh up and around his hip; “I’m here Darlin’.” With that he starts to thrust within your walls. His lithe body moves with a power you had nearly forgotten. Each roll of his hips he pounds into you harder, faster, with abandon; his dog tags cool against your breasts where they hung. Harry was a gentle man, but held so much emotion inside. He could let go with you. 
Your next orgasm was building, hotter and faster than the first. Nails raking down your husband’s back, you reached out your other to grab hold of Rosie’s outstretched palm. The slap of skin echoed around the room, mixed with the crackle of the fire and the sound of heaving breaths. 
An inferno raged within you. Every touch, every movement atop you sent sparks down every nerve ending. You didn’t know where you stopped and your husband began. “Fuck Bing mmmm- Harry please-” The rug beneath you rubbed your back raw but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as long as he kept going.
Crosby had his thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit in an instant. “Tell me you’re close, I need you to come Darlin’.” You couldn’t catch your breath so you nodded the best you could while squeezing the life out of Rosie’s fingers.  
Another snap of his hips and you’re gone, obliterated. Everything felt euphoric and white-hot. Crosby follows suit, his release filling you and your name on his tongue. Bruises will surely linger on your thighs. 
There you lay, tangled in the afterglow, your loving husband above you stroking his knuckles against your side and your new lover’s hand in yours. No words needed to be spoken. The moment you shared would be seared into your mind forever playing on repeat. God forbid another crisis happened that would ship your boys out and away from you - yet if it did you would hold on to tonight like a talisman. It had been a long four years, and longer so for them. But the war was won, with spoils a plenty. 
Finally. 
Lips meeting your Bing’s sweat-slicked forehead, your grip on Rosenthal tightens. “Welcome home my boys, welcome home.”  
Tags: @sagesolsticewrites @winniemaywebber @sailorscuttle @thirstyvampyr @hellfirequinnie @lorna-d-m
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hersheyalmond · 2 years
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Dustin, to Steve: Happy Father's Day Steve *genuinely smiles*
Steve, with glassy eyes: ...W-what?
*The kids bringing in a cake*
The kids, in unison: Happy Father's day Steve!
*Steve starts sobbing*
Dustin, hugging Steve: You deserve it
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xstevex-world · 1 year
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Steve Harrington’s favourite musician has been the same since he was 17.
He distinctly remembers hearing Chrissy Cunningham play in his car radio during his senior year, subsequently listening to nothing but her breakout EP for a week straight - and that was just the beginning.
He followed all of work for over the past 7 years: bought physical and digital copies of all her albums, watched every music video multiple times, read every interview, saved up enough while working weekend shifts at scoops to get tickets to her sold out shows in Indiana - he had so much merch that Jonathan Byers once joked that Steve could probably make a shrine to his idol.
He had even kept up during her hitatus, almost two full years of radio silence from the star, like she had disappeared off the face of the earth. It wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened, but it didn’t help that it overlapped with him dropping out of business school to pursue a career in cosmetology and that final falling out he had with his father over his choice in education.
The day she came back felt like Christmas.
Her comeback announcement dropped on June 13th - and it wasn’t just a new post on social media or a candid shot online someone managed to snap.
It was a whole EP drop, 4 entire songs (and a music video) that he knew he was going to play on repeat after 716 days of radio silence.
That opened the floodgates for everything to start again: she went back on social media, thanked her fans for their wholehearted response to her new releases. She started doing interviews again: discussing her mental health and the impact of her mothers control in her life; her reunion with her best friend (and apparent ex) from high school; her label dropping her after it was found that her “momager” had embezzled a huge amount of money from said company, releasing her from her contract early and allowing her to find new partners, new producers, new projects.
She talks about how she’s never been happier, and Steve can’t help but beam at it. He can hear it in her music, how it’s going more against the grain of what’s popular, opting instead for etherial synths mixed with heavy guitars. She sings about heartbreak and moving on and being better than then the people who brought her down for long, now that she’s starting fresh.
Steve loves it, thinks some of the changes have something to with Eddie Munson’s name appearing in the credits of all her new material.
Truthfully, he got curious after someone on Twitter posted a screengrab of cameos made by Munson and his own bandmates in all of her new music videos. He thankful someone else made the connection, and although he’s not the biggest fan of Corroded Coffin’s music (apart from the collaboration EP they did with Chrissy: “CCxCC presents Satanic Slumber Party”, that was incredible), he would lying if he didn’t say he was totally enamoured by Eddie goddamn Munson.
Let alone the fact that he’s totally Steve’s type (big hair, bigger eyes, a complete dork with a heart of gold but who also looks like he would bite someone in both a feral dog and a “please take me to your bedroom right now” kind of way), the guy is a genius when it comes to music, spending interviews talking about the process of artistry and the importance of storytelling - even when they’re discussing songs about him, written by Chrissy about their break up, he’s still so passionate and witty, the two of them spending interviews bouncing off each other in a way that would rival his relationship Robin.
He’s fine, really, he knows logically this is just a celebrity crush that will pass if he stops thinking about it for long enough, but he’s certain that this could develop into one of those all encompassing obsessions if he doesn’t curb it now- and that’s exact what he does. He tries to put that energy into school, excelling more than he ever did in an academic setting. He meets up more often with Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle and Barb, inviting them over more often for dinner or drinks, sometimes even just because he wants to make a breakfast feast and need someone else to eat it.
It’s at times like this that he misses Robin, who only has about 6 weeks left of her internship in Paris - he hasn’t seen her in person since he went to visit her a few months ago during spring break. He wishes she was her to openly judge him over this, before rambling on about her own current hyperfixation or moaning about her lack of romantic adventures since she and Vickie broke up.
They still talk on the phone every afternoon (nighttime for her), ranting to each other about their perspective day and sharing any worthwhile gossip.
Tonight’s no different, he’s telling her about the current drama happening in his classes when Robin says:
“I met someone today.”
He’s ecstatic - in his opinion robin deserves the world and the fact she’s met someone on her own in a city where she has been finding it hard interacting with people outside of her placement is a miracle in itself.
She tells him more: how she met this girl that morning at café, acting as a knight in shining armour (Robin’s words, not Steve’s) when the girl got flustered trying to order her coffee in broken French; how she spent the day showing this girl around to her favourite shops and parks and museums; how they spent hours talking about everything and nothing; how Robin hasn’t felt this way about someone since Vickie.
“So then we had dinner at that Italian place, the one I took you to, and, Steve, oh my goddess, she has the cutest little laugh-“
“Did you get her name?”
“Oh, sorry” he can hear her move the phone from one ear to the other. “Yeah it’s Chrissy.”
Steve stops his pacing. That would be one hell of a coincidence, if it was Chrissy Cunningham. She is playing in Paris the following night, the penultimate stop of her current tour. (The very show that he had been tempted to go to, since he could stay with Robin. It absolutely wasn’t because Corroded Coffin was joining her for the European leg of the tour - acting as her band, as well as performing songs from their collaboration as the encore - something that did not happen at any of the American shows). It couldn’t be the same Chrissy that Robin had fallen head over heels for in the space of a few hours, right?
“Did you get any of her socials?” He asks, cautiously.
“Nope,” she answers, popping the p for emphasis. “I didn’t think to ask, because I’m an idiot and all that-“
“Robs,” he interrupts, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re not an idiot.”
Her hears her laugh on the other end of the line, the same kind of self-deprecating giggle she uses when she’s nervous. He wishes he was there with her so she could see him roll his eyes at her, their main way of communicating their love.
“What did she look like?”
“Oh!” She exclaims as he hears her tumbling over something (knowing Robin, probably herself). “We took a picture together, hold on, I’ll send it over.”
His phone vibrates against his ear, so he brings it in front of him, putting Robin on speaker so he can see the photo.
And.
Holy fuck.
“Robin,” he says slowly, because he actually can’t believe it himself. “Do you know who that is?”
((Part 2))
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wheresarizona · 2 months
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Learning to Live Part 29
summary: On your last day in Miami, Javier and you are tasked with babysitting the Murphy kids while their parents get some much needed alone time out of the house.
Back at home, it’s Javier’s birthday, and the two of you are on your way to meet Chucho for dinner when you run into someone who doesn’t know how to keep their stupid mouth shut.
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (about ten years), consensual somnophilia, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, thigh riding, dirty talk, domestic fluff, babysitting, Javier being cute with kids, birthday celebration, death of a parent/grief, emotional hurt/comfort, Protective!Javier, Protective!Reader, verbal altercation, insults, not Lorraine friendly, small town drama, Chucho being the best father)
pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader
word count: 19.6k+
a/n: There’s something in this chapter we’ve been waiting for. Because the chapter is so long, it might not let you reblog with a comment. Since reblogs are important you’re more than welcome to reblog without a comment and then if you’d like to say something, you can either comment on the post or send me an ask. Unbeta’d because I wanted to post it this week, so all mistakes are mine. Thank you to @juletheghoul for making sure the Spanish makes sense!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
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It was warm, almost too warm, with the blankets over you and your human furnace of a bedmate cuddled at your back—his arm was draped over your middle with a hand up your shirt to hold your breast. The hazy dreamscape your mind had conjured was a beach you’d been to growing up with a giant sea stack in the ocean that rose over two hundred feet and was like a tiny rock mountain that you could walk right up to during low tide. As you strolled along the shore, ahead of you was a child who’d barely learned to walk with big, familiar, chocolate-colored eyes and messy brown hair in a shade you knew all too well, toddling beside a man you could recognize simply from the shape of his back, the broad shoulders down to the trim waist.
Their tiny arm was raised above their head while he was leaning a little to hold the small outstretched hand, his head turning with a smile to look at them with all of the love in the world—a baby’s cries sounded, and it had you worrying something was wrong with the toddler. Suddenly, everything in front of you disappeared, the fogginess of sleep dissipating as you were brought to by the noises coming from a baby monitor nearby that continued to worry you.
The arm around you tightened, and lips kissed the back of your head.
"I'll get him," Javi's voice was deeper and rougher from sleep. He kissed your head once more before moving to get out of the bed, hearing him groan and his knees pop as he stood from the mattress that was on the floor.
A sleepy smile appeared on your face as you thought about what a good father and husband he was—there wasn’t any annoyance in his tone, and he didn’t sound put out. He was happy to check on the baby and let you get some rest. You were lucky to have such a great partner who cared so much and took an active role in being a parent.
He was a keeper.
He was perfect.
There wasn’t anyone else you’d want to have a child with.
You were so happy your baby had such a wonderful father.
Your baby—wait, what was their name?
Why were you drawing a blank?
How could you forget your kid’s name?
Oh god, you were a horrible mother.
Hold on.
The cogs in your brain were turning now that the dreamy haze had lifted.
You didn't have a baby.
Javi wasn't your husband… yet.
You were at the Murphys, and the toddler crying was their one-year-old, Nate. Your fiancé had volunteered you both to take care of Steve and Connie’s three kids while they had a much-needed night alone at a hotel.
Throwing back the blankets, you moved to get up from the bed, it only taking you a moment to find your sleep shorts on the floor, you pulled on over your bare lower half and made your way barefooted out of the room.
Why were you getting up when Javi told you to keep sleeping? Why did you feel the need to go peek into the room he was in? You weren't entirely sure, your feet padding along the cool stone-tiled floor almost of their own accord.
Nate's door was open, and you didn’t hear crying anymore. Stopping at the doorway, you leaned against the wooden frame to take in the scene before you that made you smile.
The room was softly illuminated by a nightlight plugged into the wall near the crib that had the purple dinosaur Barney on it—Javi was just in his jeans, his chest bare, cradling and rocking the one-year-old in his arms and singing so softly it took you a second to recognize the tune.
It was ABBA.
And it was the song he got the 80s cover band at the bar you'd gone to that night to play by tipping them an amount of money he refused to disclose to you.
Your ears had perked and you were able to make out the words.
He was hum-singing it in a pitch a little higher than his usual low timbre:
"Don't go wasting your emotion
Lay all your love on me
Don't go sharing your devotion
Lay all your love on me."
He hadn't noticed there was an audience, and you were enjoying watching him putting the baby back to sleep, Nate's eyes getting droopier and droopier until they were completely shut.
It made you wonder what songs he'd sing to your future kids, imagining some of his mother's favorite Spanish ballads you listened to on the radio and Fleetwood Mac, probably some classic lullabies too, like “Rockabye Baby” and “You Are My Sunshine.”
Javi's head turned your way, his eyes looking tired, but he smiled and kept singing until the song was finished and he was sure the baby was back asleep, moving to gently put him in his crib. That was when you decided to walk into the room, your arms looping around his middle from the side. His arm went behind your back, and he kissed your hair.
"I told you I'd take care of him," he whispered. "You didn't need to get up."
"Oh, I wasn't gonna miss a chance to see a glimpse of my future," you replied just as quietly. "And I’m happy I got up and had the chance to hear you put the baby back to sleep with ABBA—you know, it really gets me going seeing you doing dad stuff, and then you chose that song? Talk about making a girl yearn for the day we have our own babies, and you did an excellent job getting him to fall back asleep."
"I can’t wait for our own babies, too.” He hugged you a little closer to him. “Connie mentioned the last few weeks Nate’s been waking up in the middle of the night with separation anxiety—it's common with babies his age."
Nate turned one the month prior.
"Awe, poor guy."
"Yeah, he's okay now." Javi reached into the crib and pressed his large palm to the child's wild black curls. "Dulces sueños, mi precioso (Sweet dreams, my precious)." He looked at you. "Let's go back to bed, mi amor (my love). The kids will be up early."
Watching him put Nate back to sleep and his gentle care had you going so soft you thought you might turn into a puddle. His last sentence made you smile because one day, he’d say that in regard to your own children—god, you were yearning so hard for your future with him.
"Early to you or early to me?"
If you had the day off, you wanted to sleep until at least nine in the morning. Javi's idea of sleeping in was waking up at six-thirty instead of six because he was a—you hated saying it—a morning person.
"Early to you,” he answered.
"Great, more morning people."
He huffed in amusement and started walking with you out of the room with your hands held, continuing to whisper. "From my experience, young children like to get up early."
You were in the hallway, and he quietly closed Nate's door behind you both. "What I'm hearing is you're volunteering to take mornings with our kids since you'll already be up."
"That was my plan, yes," he said as you returned to the guest room. "Just makes sense."
Once inside, the door was shut and locked, neither of you bothering to turn on the overhead light, instead carefully making your way in the dark to the bed. Javi took off his pants before he crawled onto the mattress naked, and you shimmied out of your shorts as you got under the warm blankets.
He scooted over beneath the covers until his body was spooning yours from behind, his arm going around your shirt-covered tummy, feeling his nose in the hair at the back of your head.
"Why are you wearing this?" he asked, pulling on your t-shirt.
Javi was against wearing clothes to bed, and you found out he even slept in the nude while visiting other people’s houses.
"So, I'm not completely naked if the children wake up and need us,” you said. “All I have to do is get up and put on my bottoms."
The frown was clear in his voice. "The door is locked, and it only takes a second to put it back on—can you take it off for now? Please?"
"Have we discussed how spoiled you are?" you asked as you sat up and started pulling off the apparent bane of Javier's existence—he leaned up and tugged it over your head, tossing it into the dark void of the room.
"I'm not spoiled," he said, cuddling close into you once you laid back down, his arm back over your belly.
"You're incredibly spoiled—you always get what you want, not to mention you basically have pussy on demand. Spoiled."
You didn't have to see his face to know he was smiling. "It just sounds like I'm living the fucking dream. And pot calling the kettle black, Cielito—the same could be said for you, too. I spoil the hell out of you, and you better know my dick is yours whenever you want it." To punctuate the sentence, he ground his hips into your ass.
"Fine, we're both spoiled,” you acquiesced. “But you're needier."
"I'm not needy,” he denied.
"You couldn't go one night in bed without me naked."
"I sleep best being able to feel you."
"Well, you got your wish." You patted his arm around you. "Now, go to sleep, babe. Wake me up when the kids wake up."
He was already falling asleep, his answer an affirmative hum. “Love you,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face into your hair.
“I love you, too.”
It wasn't hard to fall back to sleep, not when your previous two days had started before the sun had risen, and everything that had taken place on the trip—traveling, meeting and spending time with the Murphys, getting engaged, the hours spent fucking in a hotel, going to the beach, almost fighting a woman in a bar. It seemed like you closed your eyes, and not even a minute later, the Sandman was whisking you away to the land of dreams.
An hour passed.
Two.
Three.
Four.
It was deep sleep that had you under its spell, physically keeping your body in the guest room while the dream transported you back home to your living room, where you were alone with Javi on the couch, straddling his lap and lazily kissing him.
Something warm and wet and felt so good it reached you in your foggy dreamscape, had the scene shifting suddenly, where you found yourself on your back, missing the clothes on your lower half, seeing the brown hair of your fiancé’s head buried between your legs.
There were the delicious sensations of tingles racing up your spine and pleasure building in your core as your nipples tightened—a soft moan of his name escaped your lips, the image before you fuzzy around the edges, keeping you on the cusp between asleep and awake.
You were gonna come, your cunt beginning to pulse, and the muscles in your belly coiling, winding tight, Dream Javi’s mouth feeling so real on your clit, licking and sucking on the sensitive bud. Warmth had spread through your veins, your body hot at being so turned on.
His tongue was working its magic, and you weren’t even surprised at how quickly he was getting you close to your end.
The pleasure kept building higher and higher until you hit your peak, and you were coming, the sudden explosion of euphoria coursing out from your center waking you up with a long, shuddering moan, your body tensing, and your heart racing.
Confusion had come over you at being awake and still feeling a wet tongue lapping at your pussy, and it took a second for you to realize your legs were spread with someone between them beneath the covers. It was too dark to see the lump under the blankets, but when you reached, you could feel the hardness of a skull at the apex of your thighs.
“Javi?” It came out as more of a croak.
He hummed in acknowledgment with his lips wrapped around your swollen clit, and your confusion was replaced with burning-hot arousal.
He'd woken you up by going down on you—which was something you'd given him permission to do months ago; you'd given him permission to do a whole lot more to wake you up, but Javier was big on explicit consent, and there were some lines he couldn't bring himself to cross, which was sweet, and showed what a stand-up guy he was.
And you loved that he was a Consent King; however, you happened to be a horny bitch that fantasized about him fucking you awake.
You should mention Javi also gave you permission to wake him up by the same means, and the first time he woke to you slowly riding his dick, he came in record-breaking time.
Him waking you with his mouth on your cunt was kind of a big deal and a testament to the trust you had in each other; plus, it was fucking amazing—forget alarm clocks; you always wanted your mornings to start with orgasms.
"Oh, god," you moaned, pushing the bedding down to uncover your torso and his head, the chill air welcome on your heated skin. "It's so good, Javi." It was wet and slippery between your thighs, your pussy throbbing and feeling achingly empty. Your fingers went into his mess of hair. "Baby, I'm so horny. Can I please have your dick?"
He came off you, moving up your body, his wet lips kissing over the skin of your belly and chest, up the column of your throat to your mouth, smelling your musk in his damp mustache as he kissed you. His hips took their place in the cradle of your thighs, snaking his hand between your bodies to line the tip of his hard cock with your soaked entrance, pushing all the way in with one smooth thrust that stole your breath.
The orgasm had loosened you up, making it easier for your inner walls to stretch and accommodate his girth, easing the empty ache to feel wonderfully full.
He held himself up with his arms beside your head, your hands moving to dig your fingers into his shoulders.
His lips left yours. "Did you like it?" he asked his tone a deep rasp. "Waking up by coming on my tongue?"
He had started slowly moving, his dick sliding almost all of the way out and pushing back in.
"Yes," you gasped.
"You were moaning in your sleep and got so fucking wet." Another orgasm was starting to form in your center.
"Was dreaming about you."
His cock twitched hard inside you. "Shit," he hissed. His pace sped up, hearing the wet sounds of him working in and out of you. He pressed his nose against your cheek, his breaths coming out heavier. "I didn't think it'd turn me on," he said. "But you were so fucking responsive, and when you moaned my name, it got me hard as a fucking rock that you were thinking about me in your sleep, and it made me feel like less of a creep."
Pleasure was curling inside you with every slick slide of him fucking into your cunt, but that last comment cut through your blissful haze.
“I wanted it,” you said. “Do you like it when you wake up to me blowing you or riding your dick?”
A loud, ragged groan pulled from his throat. “Yes.”
The two of you were so in tune with each other that when you made the movement to try and roll you both, Javi completed it to have him on his back with you on top, his cock staying nestled in your depths.
Your knees were bracketing his hips as you rose until only the tip of him remained and dropped back down, using your hands on his chest for leverage and keeping your rhythm steady and hard—up and down, over and over again. Javi's palms slid along your belly on a journey to your breasts, where he took them in hand, gently massaging them before his fingers zeroed in on your pebbled nipples, rolling and pinching them. It fanned the fire growing in your center, and you angled your hips to have him press into that magical spot that made it hard to think with how fucking good you felt.
There was a delay in you continuing the conversation. "It's the same for me," you panted. "I like waking up to you going down on me. I'd like waking up to you fucking me—I want it, and I don't want you feeling bad."
"I'll try.” His words were strained. “Fucking love your tits—wish I could see you bouncing on my dick.” It was too dark in the room. “Wait, what time is it?”
"What?"
"What time is it?" he asked again.
You looked at the red glowing numbers on the alarm clock located above you on the bedside table.
"6:32."
"Shit."
He pulled you forward, his arms going around your back, and rolled you both to your original position with him over you, moving your legs up high on his ribs. "We don't have much time—touch yourself."
He began slowly rocking in and out of you, speeding up little by little.
Your eyebrows furrowed. "Don't have much time?" you asked. "What?"
"The kids will be up any second, and I want us both to get off, so I need you to rub that pretty little clit for me."
Oh, right, the children.
The children you were watching.
The children you volunteered to watch and now held the power to cockblock you both.
The Murphy children.
"Shit," you said, getting your hand in between your bodies and locking your ankles against his lower back, feeling his muscles move beneath your calves. "Harder." The pads of your fingers were circling your bundle of nerves just the way you liked while Javi did as you asked, pounding into you hard enough your body was jostling, and you could hear the clap of his hips hitting yours.
The heat in your belly was getting hotter, Javi's lips sloppily kissing along your jaw and chin to claim your mouth with his, a thin layer of sweat coating both of your bodies.
"Need you to come for me." The sentence was muffled into your lips. "Need to feel it—let me have another, Cielito."
Pleasure was building inside you, every push and pull of his hips and swirl of your fingers getting you closer and closer to your sweet release.
He had you moaning into his mouth as he kissed you, Javi grunting, and you could hear how wet it was where you were joined.
His face pressed into your neck, his hot, heavy breaths fanning against your skin, your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades hard enough to leave crescent moon indents.
You were almost there.
"'M close," you said.
He put all of his weight onto one arm beside your head, and his free hand went to your breast, pinching and teasing your hardened nipple with his fingers—it had a current shooting directly to your clit, making you moan loudly.
"Come on, baby," Javi gritted through his teeth. "Give it to me—come all over my dick, and I'll fuck you full of me. I know you want it." He was moving faster, and you could tell he was close. "I know you want me to fuck a baby into you. Give me another, and I’ll give it to you."
"Yes," you gasped, clutching his back with one hand for something to hold onto as you fell over the edge and came, your cunt seizing up around him tight enough it stuttered his rhythm, and a rumbling groan erupted from his chest. Pleasure radiated out from your core, spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes, your mind going blissfully blank, your eyes closed, panting hard.
“Good girl,” he said, kissing low on your cheek. “My good fucking girl—god, I fucking love you.”
The second you relaxed, Javi was focusing on his own high, his nose pressed to the skin of your neck, hearing and feeling his heavy breaths as he pistoned into you. It was wetter between your legs, the sound of his cock working in and out of you amplified, and the suck of your pussy more pronounced.
He felt so good inside you, your hands moving to press into the sweat-damp waves of his hair.
"Let me have it, Javi." You scratched at his scalp, and he whimpered. "I want it, baby—come for me. Fuck it deep."
"I'm gonna give it to you," he grunted. "Te daré lo que quieras (I'll give you whatever you want)—Te conseguiré la pinche luna (I'll get you the fucking moon). Te daré el pinche mundo (I'll give you the fucking world)." His strokes were getting jerky. "Te daré tantos niños como quieras (I'll give you as many kids as you want). Haré cualquier cosa por ti (I'll do anything for you). Soy tuyo (I'm yours)—Siempre seré tuyo (I'll always be yours). Te amo (I love you). Te amo (I love you). Te amo (I love you)..." The last word turned into a strangled moan, Javi pressing himself all the way to the hilt deep inside you, the tip of himself kissing your womb as he came. There was the hard jerk of his dick, and you felt the warm spurts of his come filling you, his hips continuing to rock like he was trying to make sure he didn't leave any nook or cranny empty, wanting you to be completely stuffed.
The weight of him collapsing on you was familiar and welcome, stroking your fingers through his hair while he caught his breath in the crook of your neck.
One of the two baby monitors crackled to life, hearing a small, tired voice calling out for their mom—it was Stevie, the three-year-old.
Javi immediately moved to get up, giving you a quick kiss and making pained groans as he got to his feet.
"I've got him," he said, heading for the en suite. He turned on the bathroom light, your eyes squinting at the brightness and getting a glimpse of his naked back and bare ass before he disappeared behind the closed door—you sighed wistfully.
The water pattering told you he'd turned on the shower, and he must've gone in while it was still cold because it was turned off after only a couple of minutes had passed.
This had to be a record for how quickly he was going through getting ready.
You'd heard the sink run and knew he brushed his teeth, and when he came out with just a towel around his waist, his wet hair had been combed, but he hadn't bothered doing his regular styling.
"Cover your eyes," he said.
Your hands went over your eyes, and he flicked the switch for the overhead light.
"Do you want help?" you asked.
You heard him over in his duffle bag, pulling out clothes.
"With the kids? I can handle them on my own if you want to sleep in."
The sounds told you he was putting on a pair of jeans.
"I'm not gonna sleep while you wrangle the children by yourself. What I'm asking is how much time do I have to get ready? Do I need to try to break the world record like you? Or can I take an actual shower and brush my teeth longer than thirty seconds?"
"Hey, at least I brushed them," he said. "I don't wanna make him wait too long—I feel bad enough I had to shower, but I didn't have much choice since I smelled like pussy."
You were pretty sure he was buttoning his shirt.
"Yeah, a shower was needed—which, what prompted the unexpected wake-up call?"
"I had a dirty dream where I was eating you out in my old truck—the one I had in high school—and I just really fucking needed to taste you when I woke up. Took me a little bit to work up my nerve."
"Well, it was an amazing wake-up. Ten out of ten stars would love to experience it again."
He was moving, and you thought he'd grabbed his watch off the dresser.
There was a smile in his voice. "I'll keep it in mind—do your regular morning routine, baby. There's no need for you to break any world records." He was padding toward the door, it softly squealing as he opened it. "I love you."
“Wait, what color is the shirt you’re wearing?”
“Purple.”
The day before, you had to do a small load of laundry because you both had gone through the majority of the clothes you brought.
His answer made you grin. "Perfect. I love you, too."
The light switched off, and the door clicked shut. You removed your hands from your eyes and decided it was definitely time to get up out of the wet patch and shower—you made a mental note to wash the sheets and blankets before Connie got home. It seemed like the polite thing to do since you were heading home later that day.
Javi was up and ready in about five-to-six minutes.
It took you much longer to get clean and make yourself presentable, choosing to wear black leggings with your lavender-colored v-neck shirt.
Exiting the guest room, there was noise coming from the kitchen, hearing music playing low and voices, your socked feet carrying toward it.
Before the hallway opened into the living room, there was a doorway to the kitchen, and you stopped in your tracks when you got to it and looked inside, keeping half of your body hidden behind the wall.
Javi's profile was in front of you as he stood at the stove with Nate in a carrier on his back, and Stevie held in his left arm so his right was free to hold the black plastic spatula. Olivia was beside him, her back to you, with a plate in her hands that had a small stack of pancakes, all of the children still in their pajamas.
"Looks like your Mickey pancake is done, tesorito (little treasure)," he said to Olivia. "Can you bring the plate a little closer, please?"
She did as he asked, holding the plate closer but not too close to the hot stove. He scooped the pancake up and plopped it down on top of the stack.
Javi adjusted Stevie in his arm and set the spatula down to grab the large measuring cup half full of batter.
"Okay," he started, "What shape are we doing for your tía (aunt)?"
"Ninja Turtle!" Stevie shouted.
Javi smiled. "I’m sorry, bud, I'm not good enough to do a Ninja Turtle."
"What about a heart?" Olivia asked.
"Now that I can do," he answered. "Is it okay if I make your tía a heart pancake, Stevie?"
"Yes!"
Javi was cautious as he poured the pancake mix, a look of concentration on his face, finishing after some seconds.
"There," he said, he had a dubious expression. "It looks like a heart, right?"
Olivia peered into the pan. "Kinda looks like a butt.”
He let out a long sigh, and it took everything in you to hold back your giggle, enjoying watching this interaction.
"Well, guess I'm eating the butt pancake," Javi said, and you had to cover your mouth with both hands to keep from laughing because, of course, he'd volunteer to eat the butt pancake. The measuring cup was set back down, and he picked up the spatula. "I'll try again after this one. Hopefully, the next one looks like a heart."
"If it doesn't, you're really good at making Mickeys!" Olivia said.
He smiled, looking over at her. "Thanks, tesorito."
"I want a Mickey pancake!" Stevie announced.
Javi's head turned toward him with a frown. "I thought you wanted the ‘S’ for Stevie—that's what you asked me to make."
"I want a Mickey pancake now!"
“Guess I’m eating the ‘S’ pancake, too.” His eyes went to Olivia. "Set the plate on the counter, Mija. We're gonna be here longer than I expected—how's Nate doing back there?"
She set the pancakes down beside the batter, Javi twisting his torso to show her the one-year-old.
"He's just chewing on the teething ring."
"Good," he said, facing forward and flipping the pancake. "So, uh, what do you think about mi Cielito? You know, now that you've met her…"
You held your breath.
"I like her," Olivia answered. "She tells bad jokes like my dad, though. But she's really nice, and she made cookies with us, and I had fun with her at the beach."
You took a deep breath and felt relieved that you earned the approval of his niece.
"So, you're okay with her being your tía?"
"Yep! I like that she can speak Spanish with us and don't tell my mom, but tía's cookies are better than hers."
That made him smile as he moved the pancake from the pan to the stack. "I'll keep that between us, tesorito."
"Are you excited to have a tía, Stevie?" he asked the toddler.
"Yes, she made me cookies!"
Javi smiled. "Yes, she did. Okay—" he set down the plastic utensil and picked up the measuring cup again. "—let's hope this time it looks like a heart and not a butt."
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Javier had always been an early riser—he didn't have much choice growing up on his parent's ranch, where their days started with his father's, who had to be out the door by six a.m. Any time he complained about waking up so early, his parents would tell him, ‘A quien madruga Dios le ayuda (God helps those who get up early),’ which equated to what they say in English, ‘The early bird gets the worm,’ or if you were early and eager, you were most likely to succeed; the saying didn’t improve his attitude about being awake when the sun hadn’t risen and having to help his dad do chores outside before he went to school.
Waking up at five a.m. for the first eighteen years of his life fucked up his internal clock to make it so his mornings naturally started at six now—which wasn't terrible during the week, but on the weekends, his fiancée slept until at least nine, and yeah, he could get up and go have some coffee while reading the newspaper or a book as he waited for her, except he'd miss her and feel lonely. His solution was he normally just stayed in bed cuddling her and allowed himself to relax and let his mind wander, usually thinking about their future.
This Saturday morning, he woke up too fucking horny to do his usual routine of holding her, and he knew she wouldn't mind if he disrupted her sleep to see if she'd want to fool around; she generally did the same when she was in his position. However, today, it popped into his mind about how much he liked it when he'd wake up to her sucking his dick or, Christ, when he'd wake up to her riding him; he wasn't ashamed to admit the first time he opened his eyes to her on top of him and using him to make herself come, he blew his load in a minute flat.
So, he was thinking about that and how she'd given him permission multiple times to do the same to her when he decided to give it a try. The issue he ran into was it made him really fucking uncomfortable to do things to her while she was unconscious—he needed his sexual partners to be coherent and consenting. It took him a few minutes to push down the feeling and remind himself she had consented, she'd enthusiastically consented on many occasions, and that he had to trust her.
And that was how he found himself waking her up with his face in her pussy. He ended up kind of liking it, or at least liking her reaction to it, and that it made her so horny she asked him for his cock.
Would he do it again? Probably. It seemed to be something she was really into.
He wished he would've worked up his nerve sooner so they could've had more time to fuck, but they'd made it just under the wire to the kids waking up.
Which, he was loving getting the chance to babysit with her. It felt like a trial run of their future, and he wanted to show her that she made the right choice, agreeing to marry him.
The children were pretty well-behaved, and they loved him enough that they weren’t too difficult—unless it was nap time or bedtime. The one he was most worried about was Nathaniel because the one-year-old hadn’t had as much time with him as the other two and was incredibly attached to his parents, especially Connie.
When Javier and Stevie went to go get the youngest Murphy upon waking, Nate had fussed for his mom, and once he realized she wasn't there, he became inconsolable if Javier tried to put him down—the solution was carrying the baby on his back while he made breakfast.
The two older kids wanted pancakes when he asked what they'd like to eat, and of course, Javier obliged because his sobrinos (niece and nephews) had him wrapped around their little fingers.
Here he was, making Stevie a Mickey Mouse pancake, even though he'd already made the three-year-old an 'S' shaped one, and his fiancée was doing a terrible job of hiding behind the wall to watch him with the kids.
He held Stevie so the child could see the pancakes being made, a black plastic spatula in his other hand. "Cielito," he said loud enough for her to hear. "How many pancakes do you want?"
She stepped into the doorway, and he glanced over, smiling immediately when he saw she was wearing her purple shirt. She was frowning. "How long have you known I was there?"
"Baby, you had half of your body showing. I clocked you the moment you got out here."
Her arms crossed over her chest, her eyebrow raising. "So, were you cheesing it up?"
She was asking if everything she saw and heard was genuine, and it felt like a gut punch that she thought he was faking it.
A frown formed between his eyebrows and on his lips. "Tesorito," he looked at Olivia, "¿He estado actuando diferente esta mañana (Have I been acting differently this morning)?"
"Huh?" The little girl had a confused expression on her face. "No." She shook her head. "¿Por qué actuarias de manera diferente (Why would you act differently)?"
His eyes went back to his fiancée.
“No sé (I don’t know),” he said evenly. “No tengo ninguna razón para actuar de manera diferente (I have no reason to act differently). ¿Le dirás a tu tía lo que te gusta que te prepare para desayunar cuando te visite (Will you tell your aunt what you like me to make you for breakfast when I visit)?”
The girl turned to face Cielito with a smile. "Mickey Mouse pancakes! He also does other shapes if we ask, but Mickey is my favorite, and the ones he's best at making!"
"Oh," the woman replied. Their gazes met, guilt written on her features as her arms dropped to her sides. "I'm sorry, Javi. I shouldn't have jumped to that conclusion."
“Flip it!” Stevie shouted about his pancake. “Flip it, tío!”
He focused back on the pan and used the plastic utensil in his hand to do as the toddler asked.
“Yay!” the three-year-old clapped.
“Thanks for paying attention, buddy,” Javier told the little one. “And I get it, Cielito. You've never seen me with them.” Javier sighed. “How many pancakes do you want?"
She moved toward him and politely said to Olivia, “Excuse me, kiddo,” the child letting her get to his side. She ducked under his arm that held the spatula, hugging him around his middle or as best she could with him wearing the baby carrier. Her face was tilted up toward him. “I’m sorry, Javi,” she quietly said. “I was rude, and I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. Can you forgive me?”
His head turned to her and kissed her forehead. “Yeah,” he answered truthfully. He pulled back to meet her eyes. “I’m not putting on a show for you—everything you’ve seen is just how I am with them.” Javier let out a long breath. “These kids are my family, and up until you told me you wanted children with me, they were the closest thing I thought I’d get to having my own—I couldn’t be a father, but I could be the best uncle, and I’m gonna keep being the best uncle, even when we do have our own, because I love them, and they’re my favorite sobrinos.”
“Somos tus únicos sobrinos, tío (We’re your only niece and nephews, uncle),” Olivia said.
Javier smiled, looking past his fiancee at the dark-haired girl. “Sí, los son y son los mejores (Yes, you are, and you’re the best). ¿Quién es tu tío favorito (Who is your favorite uncle)?”
Her beaming smile was missing some baby teeth as she pointed at him. “¡Tú, tío Javi (You, uncle Javi)! ¡Eres divertido y haces los mejores panqueques y nos compras los regalos que queramos (You’re fun and make the best pancakes and buy us the presents we want)!”
Cielito was smiling when he locked eyes with her. “I told you you’re fun,” she said. “And I can tell you love them a lot—you’re very adorable with them.”
“Thanks,” he replied and kissed her forehead again. “How many pancakes would you like, mi amor (my love)?”
“Two is fine.”
“What shape for your second one?”
Her smile turned mischievous. “I’d love a butt pancake, so we can both eat ass—” Her eyes got comically huge at remembering the children. “—sortments.” She cringed. “So, we can both eat an assortment of differently shaped pancakes.”
He snorted in amusement, trying not to laugh. “Right,” he said. “We’ll both eat an assortment of pancakes.”
“There’s really not much different between the heart and butt pancakes…” Olivia added with a look on her face like she didn’t understand what they were talking about.
“Is there bacon?” Cielito suddenly asked and stepped away from him, clearly trying to change the subject. “I could make bacon or maybe cut up some fruit?”
He looked between the two older kids. “Do you guys want bacon or fruit with your pancakes?”
"Bacon!" Olivia answered excitedly.
"Bacon!" Stevie squealed, clapping his hands.
His head turned to his future wife, smiling. "I think they want bacon."
"Then I'll make them bacon," she said, walking to the fridge.
It was like they were playing house—it was them with the three children they were taking care of, having to feed, clean, clothe, and entertain them, giving the couple a chance to see how the other handled it.
He loved standing with her side-by-side at the stove, making breakfast while they chatted with the children. He loved that Nate wanted to sit with her at the table when they ate, and she didn’t even blink an eye as she took the baby to put in her lap and eat his small plate of a plain pancake and cut-up bananas. He loved how she tackled cleaning up with him while holding the one-year-old on her hip like it was no big deal and kept an eye on the three little Murphys while he washed the blankets from their bed and put the mattress back onto the old, squeaky bedframe. He loved watching how easily she interacted with the kids and that they liked her—he knew, without a doubt, when he asked Olivia what she thought of the woman he was marrying, her answer was going to be positive because the nine-year-old trusted him, and would’ve said something to him by now had there been anything wrong.
Javier hadn't told Cielito this, but on their first night in Miami, when Olivia requested him to tell her a bedtime story, she worriedly asked him if he'd still love her and her brothers if he had a baby, and it broke his heart. He reassured her that, of course, he would and made a mental note that when they finally had a child, he'd do his best to ensure nothing changed regarding his regular phone calls with Olivia and sending them presents.
Seeing his fiancée happily helping him with the kids had him feeling some type of way; he couldn’t stop smiling, excitement vibrating just under his skin at thinking about her doing the same things with their own children.
On many occasions, she’d said their kids were going to be obsessed with him and love him more than her, but that wasn’t something he wanted—his future wife deserved their affection more, and he wanted them to be obsessed with her. He hated how she grew up—how she never felt loved, and he sure as fuck hated her family, and starting their own was a chance for her to have a do-over where she’d be loved unconditionally and knew her importance to him and their children. He just wanted her to feel loved and wanted, and he would do everything in his power to make it happen.
In the hours they waited for Steve and Connie to get back, they got a taste of what parenting together would be like, and he thought they didn’t do half bad—they got the boys ready for the day, getting them dressed, their teeth brushed, and hair combed. He saw how well she handled calming down a crying Nathaniel. They spent some time in the family room watching cartoons with the kids, and he helped Stevie with potty training, and she didn’t shy away from changing diapers. She French braided Olivia’s hair per the child’s request, giving her a plait on each side of her head. He showed her how to put Nate down for his morning nap, and they had lunch when the baby got up; then, they all piled onto the couch to watch The Little Mermaid.
Javier usually did most of this alone when the parents were away, but he had to admit that having someone helping him was nice and made things much easier.
Something he didn’t expect was how he somehow fell even more in love with her from being so good with the kids, and it showed him she was going to be an amazing mother one day—hopefully soon, if he got his way.
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Javier was beside you on the couch with his arm over your shoulders and Stevie in his lap, Olivia on your other side, and Nate content sitting on your thigh with his back against you and a sippy cup in his hands as you all watched the movie.
"My favorite character is Ariel," Olivia said. "I'd love to be a mermaid and swim with dolphins! Tío's favorite character is Sebastian."
That was a piece of trivia you were not aware of.
Your head turned toward the girl. "Is that so? Has your tío watched this with you before?"
"Oh, yeah, it's my favorite movie!” That made sense since she had The Little Mermaid pajamas and bedding. “Last time, we ate ice cream sandwiches while watching."
Confusion came over you because you’d been sure Javi’s first time seeing this movie was with you—you’d been sure his first time watching many of the animated Disney movies had been with you.
“That sounds like fun,” you said slowly. “Have you watched other Disney movies with him?”
“Yep.” She pointed toward the entertainment center, where behind a glass door, you could see the spines of VHS cases, noting there were a lot of Disney titles and other children’s movies. “Um, I know we’ve watched Beauty and the Beast, Snow White, uh, Sleeping Beauty, Toy Story, Pocahontas, Aladdin, um, A Goofy Movie, um, oh! He took me to the movies to see Hercules!”
“I love that—have you watched Lion King together?”
He said he’d never seen it on your second date, and how he acted when you watched it on your third date made you believe it was his first watch.
“Nope—” She shook her head. “—I don’t like Lion King. It’s too sad.”
“It is kinda sad, and it’s okay that you don’t like it.” You gave her knee a pat before turning your head to look at Javi, whispering to him, “I thought you hadn’t seen Disney movies before we met?”
His face scrunched in confusion, meeting your gaze. “What? I never said that. I told you I hadn't watched Lion King, and I hadn’t. I’ve seen a few Disney movies with the kids—I figured you knew that…”
“I didn’t. I thought your first times were with me...”
“Some of them, yeah.” He shrugged. “They’re young children—what movies did you think we watched?”
“I don’t know, maybe Land Before Time or those cartoon movies not made by Disney.”
You felt dumb for not putting two and two together after he told you about Olivia and her brothers early on in your relationship—of course, it’d make sense he’d seen some of the movies before you got together.
Olivia interrupted. "We don't watch Land Before Time because it makes tío cry."
Your face softened, reaching across your body to caress his cheek. "Oh, babe, because of Littlefoot's mom?"
He was frowning, letting out a sigh, his eyes darting away from you. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Messed up way to start a kid’s movie and fuc—freaking traumatizing.”
“Yeah.” You pushed the hair off his forehead. “The beginning is brutal. I cried the first time I watched it, too.”
The children’s dad shouted from the front door, “Kids, we’re home!”
“Mommy and Daddy are home!” Stevie said, crawling off Javi’s lap to run their way.
“Mom!” Nate shouted, letting his sippy cup fall and needing help to get to the floor. He booked it the same way as his brother.
Olivia jumped up to go see them, too.
Javi leaned in close, your cheeks touching when he whispered into your ear, “I can’t wait to come home to kids who are excited to see me—can't wait to come home to you pregnant. I just can't fucking wait to have a baby with you."
You smiled. "I know," you said just as quietly. "I can't wait, either. You're gonna be such an amazing dad, and our babies will be lucky to have you."
"You don't know how fucking happy it makes me when we talk about having more than one—I get so excited, I feel like a kid on Christmas."
"You're so cute."
"Hey, Jav!" Steve called out. "The two of you need to come out here!"
Your fiancé kissed your cheek. "We better go see what he wants."
“Okay.” You took his chin in hand and moved his face in front of yours to give him a kiss on the lips.
Your hands were held when you both got up and made your way to where the family was, finding them all standing around the kitchen table, Connie holding Nathaniel and Stevie in his dad's arms—toward the end of the table you were closest to, sat a professionally made, circular, white frosted cake, with red outlining the top and fancy writing in the same color, spelling out, "Happy Birthday Javi!" and two lit candles shaped like a four and zero standing above the message.
The moment you entered the dining room, the Murphys started singing "Happy Birthday," and you joined in, Javi suddenly stopping.
"What's all this?" he asked.
It got to the part in the song where his name goes, and the adults said Javi, but Olivia and Stevie sang tío. When they finished singing, the three-year-old clapped his hands.
"It's your birthday party!" Steve said with a smile. "Get over here and blow out the candles so the kids can give you your presents and eat cake."
"Right," Javi replied, letting go of your hand to walk the handful of steps, leaning over the table between two chairs.
"Make a wish!" Olivia said.
His eyes closed, and he blew out the candles.
"Yay!" Stevie said excitedly, clapping his hands again. Nate copied his brother with claps and a big smile.
"What'd you wish for?" Olivia asked.
"If he tells you, then his wish won't come true, honey," her mom said.
Javi straightened, and you made your way to him.
"Oh, right," Olivia replied. "Can we have cake now?"
"Yes, baby girl," Steve answered, taking Nate when Connie passed him to his dad so she could cut the cake. "Olivia, go grab your tío's presents over on the coffee table." He nodded behind him, and the little girl ran in that direction.
Javi's voice was rough with emotion as he spoke, "You guys didn't have to do this..."
"Yes, we did," Connie said, putting a small slice on a tiny paper plate. "The kids wanted to celebrate your birthday with you and eat cake."
"Thank you." Your arm was around his waist while he pulled you closer to his side and kissed your hair.
Olivia came barreling back toward them with some folded papers in one hand and a small box under her other arm wrapped in red and white striped wrapping paper that was clearly meant for Christmas.
She stood beside him and handed him the folded papers first, which turned out to be handmade Birthday cards from the kids—the first one featured an array of colorful marker scribbles that had every color in the rainbow and an abundance of circles, the writing messy as if an adult was helping to guide their tiny hand to write in black ink, ‘Happy Birthday!’ Javi flipped it open to find a baby-sized orange handprint on one side, with ‘Love, Nate’ written above it in Connie's clean script, and on the other side was a blue toddler's handprint with the same messy handwriting from the front over it, spelling, 'Love, Stevie.'
His eyes were misty as he looked over at the boys. "Did you make this for me, Stevie?"
"Uh-huh." His little head nodded. "I colored it for you!"
"I love it, mi principito (my little prince). Thank you."
"What do we say when someone thanks us?" Steve asked his son.
Stevie smiled big. "You’re welcome!"
Javi's attention returned to his hands, putting the closed first card behind the second.
This one was clearly made by Olivia. She'd drawn a birthday cake with the frosting colored pink and a few candles on top, a bunch of vibrant balloons above it, and underneath, she'd spelled in block letters in different colors, ‘Happy Birthday!’ When he opened it, there was a colorful stick figure drawing of her family taking up both sides, their names written above each person, with Javi and you in the middle, and 'Cielito' put down as your name. Along the top in the child's script, it said, 'Happy Birthday to the best tío in the entire world! Love, Olivia.'
It surprised you that she added you amongst her family, and it warmed your heart, knowing how happy it would make Javi.
"Es hermoso, tesorito (It’s beautiful, my little treasure)," he said, sounding a little choked up. He pulled her in for a side hug. "Incluso incluiste a mi Cielito (You even included my Cielito)."
"Well, yeah," she replied, looking up at him. "Hablas mucho de ella y vives con ella, y te vas a casar con ella (You talk about her a lot and live with her, and you are going to marry her). Tuve que incluirla ya que va a ser nuestra tía (I had to include her since she is going to be our aunt)."
"Gracias, Mija (Thank you, Mija). Es perfecto (It’s perfect). I'm gonna hang these up at work so I can look at them every day." He sniffled and wiped at his eyes, handing the two cards to you. His head turned your way. "We're gonna need to pack these carefully."
"Of course," you said.
"Y aquí está tu regalo (And here is your gift)," Olivia held up the box to him, and he took it, quickly unwrapping the paper and opening it. He set it down on the table and pulled out what was inside.
It was a picture of Javi sitting on the Murphys’ leather sofa, holding a maybe six-month-old Nate in his arms, with Stevie and Olivia seated on each side of him, all of them, except Nate, who was chewing on his hand, smiling at the camera, the white ceramic frame around it covered in kid-drawn sunflowers and daisies, with ‘World's Best Tío’ written on the bottom in Olivia's handwriting.
He was smiling. "I love this—it’s gonna go on my desk," he said. His gaze went to his friends. "Thank you. This means a lot to me."
"You're welcome, Javi," Steve said, smiling.
"The kids had a lot of fun making your presents," Connie added, "and I've been meaning to get you a copy of that picture." Six plates with cake slices on them were sitting on the table.
“Thank you," he said again, gently setting it back into the box.
The birthday cake was eaten, and the majority of the hours you had left with the Murphys, Javi spent with the children while you took care of packing both of your bags, wanting him to have as much time with them as possible—the last thing you saw them doing was having a Nerf gun battle, Javi and Olivia versus the Steves; big Steve carrying around little Steve, both with weapons in their hands.
There was a lot of laughing and happy squeals.
A little later, when Steve and Connie walked into the guest room you were in, you were folding the basket of clean bedding.
"Oh, sweetie, you don't need to worry about folding all of that," the other woman said as she came over and carefully took the sheet you were holding, tossing it back in the basket.
"It's really not a problem," you replied. "I don't mind."
"We'll take care of it later." She waved away your words, then guided you with a hand on your back and arm to stand with them over in the space at the end of the bed. "We wanted to thank you for last night." She stepped to stand beside her husband, and he immediately put an arm around her.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry about how I acted." You covered your face with your hands.
"It's okay,” she reassured. "If I had been in your position, I would've wanted to kick that woman's ass, too, and to be honest, it made the night very exciting."
You lowered your palms. "Really?"
"Oh yeah. Steve—" She glanced at her husband. "—tell her about that time right after we got married when that woman tried to kiss you."
"First of all," he started, "I told that woman to leave me the fuck alone and was very blunt in how uninterested I was in her. Then she tried to lay one on me—Connie had stepped away to use the ladies' room—and next thing I know, my beautiful, amazing wife was pulling her off me by the hair, and gave her a black eye before myself, and a bouncer could separate them. We were lucky she wasn't arrested, but I had never loved her more." He had a dopey smile on his face as he looked at Connie.
"Sooo, I acted accordingly?" you asked.
"Yes," they replied in unison, focusing their attention on you.
You smiled. "That makes me feel better."
“We wanted to talk to you before y’all left,” Connie said, “and thought this was a good time since Javi’s busy with our babies.”
“Okay…” you replied, wondering what they wanted to discuss.
“We are so happy Javi met you, and you’ve been so good for him. We’ve never seen him happier, and the two of you are a great match.”
You were waiting for the ‘but,” their expressions turning solemn.
“We just kindly ask that you please don’t break his heart,” she continued. “With how head over heels he is for you, we worry about what would happen to him.”
Breaking his heart had never even crossed your mind, and you had no intention of doing it either—Javi was the love of your life, your person, your soulmate; doing anything to hurt him was unfathomable, and you got where they were coming from—imagining a life without him was bleak and painful, and you knew he wouldn’t handle it well.
“Oh,” you said, “Wow, you guys are giving me the shovel talk. Well, I just want to reassure you both—” You looked between them. “—that I love him more than anything, and I’m in it for the long haul; in sickness and in health, ‘til death do us part, he’s it for me—I can’t even picture my future without him.”
A small smile was on Connie’s lips. “That’s good to hear,” she said.
"We're serious when we say you're the best thing to ever happen to him," Steve added, also smiling softly. "I'm not used to seeing him so fucking happy, but it's a good look—he deserves this, and we just hate thinking about him losing it.”
“I completely understand your worries,” you replied. “You just want what’s best for him, and you’re great friends—he’s lucky to have you. I want him to have happiness, too, after all the shit he’s gone through.”
Steve took a deep breath, his free hand resting on his hip. “He’s been through the wringer, and it’s about damn time he catches a fucking break.”
“It really is, and I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure he’s happy.”
“We appreciate it,” Steve said—he scratched at the back of his neck. “Also, I’ll tell him on our next call.” He and Javi chatted every Thursday over the phone. “But, I’m sorry about what an asshole I’ve been. I don’t know what got into me.”
“You needed to get laid, Steve.” You reached out and patted his arm, Connie giggling. “We know.” His cheeks had reddened. “If I only boned five times in an entire year, I’d also be a dick to the couple who are clearly doing it on the regular.”
He sighed, averting his eyes. “Yeah…”
You smiled. “Looks like you guys had a great night, though.” It was obvious they were much more relaxed. “Connie’s even glowing.” You gestured toward her, and Steve stood a little straighter, his chest puffing out. “Now, I need you guys to promise me something.”
Connie’s face showed curiosity. “What’s that?” she asked.
“You’ll start going on at least one date a month—get a babysitter for the night and take some time for yourselves away from the kids to have some fun. If you can swing it, I highly recommend getting a hotel room so you can go wild.”
The other woman looked at her husband. “I did enjoy the room last night. I’m sure my sister would watch the kids for us once a month.”
Steve had a delighted smile. “I enjoyed it, too—it’s a great idea, and we should’ve thought of it sooner.”
Her attention came back to you. “We’ll try—thank you. There’s something we want you to promise us.”
"Lay it on me."
“We know y’all are adventurous in the bedroom, but promise us you’ll avoid getting arrested by having sex out in public.”
You cringed. “Last night was a first for somewhere that public, and I don’t think I could stomach doing it again anyway.”
"Good." She nodded.
"Well, thank you for having us," you said. "It was lovely to meet you all and see Javi with your kids."
"I told you he's great with them," Steve replied.
"Yes, he is—we need to figure out a date, but hopefully, you guys can make it to our wedding next month. I'd love for Olivia to have the chance to be some kind of flower girl.” You weren’t having a traditional wedding with a whole bridal party; it was going to be a small ceremony with Chucho, Javi’s cousin, Seb, and your best friend, Robyn, the only people in attendance. “We'll make it work somehow."
"She'd love that," Connie said with a smile.
"We wouldn't miss it for the world," Steve added.
When it was finally time to leave for the airport, there were a lot of tears and promises Javi would see the children again very soon—Stevie had to practically be pried from your fiancé's arms with the grip he had around the man’s neck.
The drive to the airport was quiet, with your hand in Javi's, knowing he was sad about leaving his best friends and their kids.
On the plane, your bags were safely tucked away in the overhead compartment, and your future husband was again wearing his leather jacket and sitting in the aisle seat. He distracted you with his mouth on yours for take off, and you were thankful he remembered your fear of flying.
There was hardly any talking between you, mainly because you both were exhausted and ready to sleep in the comfort of your own bed.
An hour into the flight, as you read your book with the small overhead light shining down on you in the dark cabin, Javi nudged you with his elbow to get your attention.
"Cielito, look."
He was smiling with his reading glasses lowered on his nose, his hands holding his own book, and your eyes followed the direction he nodded in.
Across the aisle, in the row ahead of you, a mother was holding her baby, who couldn't have been a year old, in front of her and doing something you couldn’t see that had the child erupting in happy giggles with a big infectious smile.
"I want one," Javi said.
You snorted, laying your head against his shoulder. "And we're doing our best to have one."
His face turned your way, and he whispered, "Yeah, we are—maybe we should try joining the mile-high club. I'm sure I could figure out how to make it work in that small space."
As horny as the thought made you, a disappointed sigh exhaled from your mouth.
"Can't," you replied. "I promised Steve and Connie we wouldn't have sex in public anymore."
His eyebrows dipped low, and his eyes slightly squinted. "Why would you promise them that?"
"'Cause we were having a heart-to-heart, and I made them promise to fuck at least once a month. Anyways, they said ‘public’ and were referring to the bar yesterday, so us messing around in your truck is still okay—basically, in my head, as long as no one's around, we're good."
His face relaxed. "I can work with that—yesterday and the beach were too fucking risky anyway."
"Right? If we're gonna have a baby, we gotta start being more responsible."
A smile pulled up on his lips. "Agreed—god, I'm so fucking excited."
"About getting married and having babies?"
His expression softened as his eyes stayed on yours, grabbing your left hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss the largest diamond on your engagement ring. "Yeah, and that I get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend, living the fucking dream."
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Next Day, Sunday, December 13
The day he’d been dreading had finally come—he was forty.
Forty.
That morning, he'd stood in the bathroom naked, staring at himself in the mirror, taking in every little detail of what he looked like after being on the planet for four decades.
There were more lines on his face and a grey hair on his head he plucked. He'd put on some weight, seeing his gut was softer and his face fuller.
He felt relieved that he still recognized the reflection—it was still him. He just had more wear and tear than when he turned thirty.
Cielito had woken earlier than she usually did on the weekends and found him doing his inventory of changes. He couldn't help it when he asked her if he was still attractive at his new age—he needed to know and have some reassurance. The question had her turning him to face her in order for her to press up against his front where she stared into his eyes and, honest to god, waxed poetic about how sexy he was for a solid five minutes; he'd felt much better afterward, and so happy, he sat her on the bathroom counter and ate her out.
He didn't want to make a big deal about his birthday—the small party with the Murphys was more than enough, and for today, he wanted to go to dinner with his fiancée and father at a decent steakhouse, where they both promised not to tell the servers it was his birthday so he didn't have to go through the embarrassment of being sung to by strangers.
As he said, he didn't want to make it a big deal—he helped Cielito make him breakfast, they cleaned up the apartment, washed their clothes from the trip, and ran some errands; typical things they’d do on a Sunday to prepare for the following week, plus relaxing on the couch and watching what she said was a Christmas movie he’d love: Die Hard.
She was right; this was the best birthday he'd had in years.
They'd gotten ready for dinner much earlier than they needed to so they could make a stop on their way.
His wi-fiancée looked stunning in her wine-red dress; the bodice had floral patterned lace, the skirt flaring out from the waist to stop just below her knees, and so she didn't get cold, she paired it with a jean jacket. Javier didn't feel like getting too dressed up and decided dark-wash jeans, a maroon button-up, and his black sports coat would do.
He held her hand as they quietly walked on the grass, his other fist carrying a small bouquet of bright orange and golden yellow marigolds; the wind was quietly whistling, two squirrels on a tree nearby were squabbling, and in the distance, faint sounds of cars traveling on roads met their ears, bringing life to a place where the inhabitants silently rested.
His eyes started watering before he saw the familiar stone, unable to stop from thinking how bittersweet this would be. They approached the headstone that had been so lovingly cared for, you couldn't tell it had marked this spot for close to ten years; the inscription was seared in his brain, knowing what it said without having to read the engraved letters and numbers.
Antonia Peña López
November 17, 1937-January 31, 1991
Beloved Wife, Loving Mother, Greatly Loved, and Sadly Missed
And he wished she knew just how greatly loved and sadly missed she was.
He bent down to place the flowers in one of the vases dug in the ground, grunting when he stood back up.
Cielito squeezed his hand to remind him she was with him, and he had to clear his throat before he could speak.
"Hola, Amá (Hi, Mom)," he said, "Te dije la semana pasada que por fin iba a pedirle al amor de mi vida que se casara conmigo, y lo hice (I told you last week that I was going to finally ask the love of my life to marry me, and I did)—dijo que sí (she said yes)." He held out his fiancée's hand to show the ring on her finger. He had to wipe at his eyes. "Me voy a casar, Amá. (I'm getting married, Mom). Estamos empezando nuestra familia (We're starting our family)," his voice cracked on the last word, and he cleared his throat again, ignoring the lump in it. "Estoy tan feliz, Amá, (I'm so happy, Mom)—nunca he sido más feliz y te extraño mucho (I've never been happier, and I miss you so much)."
Tears were rolling down his cheeks.
"Ojalá estuvieras aquí para ver cómo me he convertido en el hombre más feliz del mundo (I wish you were here to see how I've become the happiest man in the world). Ojalá pudieras estar aquí para conocer a la increíble mujer con la que me voy a casar (I wish you could be here to meet the incredible woman I'm marrying). Ojalá pudieras vernos casarnos (I wish you could see us get married). Ojalá estuvieras aquí para conocer a tus nietos (I wish you'd be here to meet your grandchildren). Solo desearía que estuvieras aquí, Amá (I just wish you were here, Mom)."
His lips had started to tremble.
"Hoy cumplí cuarenta años y me di cuenta de que la última vez que mi cumpleaños se sintió como algo para celebrar, estabas viva, estaba en casa desde de la universidad en las vacaciones de invierno y hicimos un pastel de tres leches juntos. (I turned forty today and realized the last time my birthday felt like something to celebrate, you were alive, I was home from college on winter vacation, and we made a tres leches cake together). No ha sido lo mismo desde entonces (It hasn’t been the same since). Mi vida es mejor ahora, y prometo celebrar más mi cumpleaños el próximo año (My life is better now, and I promise to celebrate my birthday more next year).”
He smiled.
“Me habré casado con mi media naranja, podríamos tener un bebé, al menos, espero que tengamos uno, y probablemente viviremos en nuestra nueva casa (I will have married my soulmate, we might have a baby, at least I hope we will, and we will probably be living in our new house). Tendré muchas razones para celebrar (I will have many reasons to celebrate). Te amo, Amá, y te extraño tanto (I love you, Mom, and I miss you so much). Gracias por visitarme la otra noche (Thank you for visiting me the other night). Lo necesitaba (I needed it).”
He'd dreamt about his mother the night before he proposed, and it had felt like she was giving him her approval of the woman he would spend the rest of his life with.
Cielito wrapped her arms around his middle from the side, and he hugged her back, sniffling loudly.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yeah." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm okay."
"You know, wherever she is, she's so fucking happy and proud of you, right?"
His eyes blurred with more tears. "Yeah."
She squeezed him a little tighter, then moved from the embrace to look at the headstone.
"Hi, Antonia," she said, doing a little wave that made him smile. He knew she got nervous talking to his mom and preferred to speak English. "I love the ring." She held up her hand to show it. "It means a lot to me that it used to be yours, and I'm happy we have something to keep you with us every day. I just want you to know that I love your son so much, and I promise to take good care of him—he's everything to me, and I want him to be happy; I think you'd want that, too. So, I promise to take good care of him, love him with everything I've got, and make sure he gets that happy life we both know he deserves and want him to have.” She frowned. “I'm sad we never got to meet, but it feels like we have, and I want you to know that I love you, and our kids will love you, too, because you would've been the best abuela (grandma) to them. Thank you for raising such an amazing man, and don't worry, I'll keep him safe and love him forever."
The moment she stopped talking, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"I meant it all."
"I know."
Something that made Javier really fucking happy was how much the woman he’d chosen to marry loved his parents. She and his father got along so well they spent time together without Javier—she sometimes went out to the ranch after work to have a couple of beers with his dad and gossip about what was happening in town. Other times, she’d hang out with Chucho, and they’d cook Javier dinner together. And just like how Javier occasionally needed advice or a wiser perspective from his father, she did, too, and would visit him to talk things out. Javier loved that they’d bonded and developed a great father-daughter relationship.
Then there was how she never got a chance to meet his mother, yet through stories, pictures, home videos, and his mom’s recipes, she grew to love her and felt as though she knew her—Cielito genuinely loved his mamá, and had told him that when she makes his mother’s dishes, it made her feel closer to the other woman, and that meant so much to him.
He hated thinking about it, but there were so many signs that Lorraine was bad news, and one of them was how she never made any effort with his parents or wanted to—she hated going out to the ranch, she didn’t like to eat his mother’s cooking, and hardly spoke a word to them. He should’ve figured it out sooner that she was a waste of time. That she didn’t deserve him. That she wasn’t right for him.
He was with the right woman now. Cielito was the complete opposite of his ex—she actually loved him, she cared about him, she made an effort with his parents, and loved them, too; she enjoyed making his mother’s recipes, she learned Spanish for him and his family because she wanted to, and agreed to live at the ranch with zero convincing. She was perfect and everything he could want in a partner, and he was well aware that he didn’t deserve her. She was too good for him, and he was the luckiest man in the whole goddamn world that she’d chosen to be with him—she chose him.
They rode in his truck to the restaurant downtown and had to find parking on the street, ending up two blocks away before a spot was available. Christmas was weeks away, and people were out shopping at the small stores lining the road, and since it was dinner time, the restaurants were filling up—they had a small journey to make on foot, and neither of them minded.
It was one of those days where he needed her close because of the array of emotions he was feeling—there was unease from turning forty, sadness at missing his mom, regret for the things from his past on his mind, excitement at the prospect of getting married and starting a family, happiness from being with the woman he loved, and he was almost positive Cielito was hiding a new lingerie set under her dress, and that thought alone had him a little horny.
His arm was across her shoulders, keeping her against his side, his head tilted toward her as they walked and talked, his attention on her and her alone, loving the smile on her face, and her bright eyes, the smell of her perfume making him feel warm, and content—she smelled like home, she felt like home, she was home, and as long as she was with him, he would always be home.
"I'm telling you," she said, "your dad's gonna have a contract or something that he went through the effort to have notarized, or some shit to make it legally binding that he's okay living with a baby and will help us take care of them."
Amusement was on her face.
"He only had Friday to do something like that, and I doubt he could've done it in one day—I'm betting we just get a piece of paper that he wrote down he's okay living with the baby and helping us, that he signed on the bottom."
"Twenty bucks.” She glanced his way to meet his eyes as she smiled.
"What?"
"Twenty bucks says he went all out."
"Fine," he said. "I'm in, but don't be mad at me when I win."
His father was eager for grandchildren, would do anything to ensure he got them, and could be a bit ridiculous, but Javier didn’t think he’d go through so much trouble for what was essentially a joke, even though they all knew he meant what he promised.
She looked forward again. "Ha! You're the one who's gonna lose because your dad is—" she trailed off and suddenly stopped, and so did he. Her smile turned into a frown, and she glared at something ahead of them.
His lips turned down. "What?" He looked in the direction she was. "Fuck," he breathed. Javier got his hands on her shoulders. "Let's cross the street, baby," he said, trying to make her move, but she wouldn’t budge.
“No,” she replied. “We’re gonna ignore them and see if they’ll do the same. I need to know if they’ve stopped with their bullshit.”
He sighed. “I don’t think this is a good idea...”
She looked at him. “I promise, Javi, I won’t start shit if they don’t.”
“I know you won’t—I don’t have much faith in them.”
“Who knows, maybe they’ve grown as people.” She shrugged.
He highly doubted that.
"Hey, Javi.” The heavy Texan drawl of the woman’s voice had him tensing like he was hearing nails on a chalkboard.
“Or not,” Cielito said, looking at the group.
He sighed again, his attention going to the group of women, and sounded tired when he spoke, "Hi, Lorraine." She was with her cousin Tammy and her friend from high school, Tracy, the three women holding shopping bags. “Tammy, Tracy.” He nodded at each of them.
Javier was really fucking hoping this would be a quick hello, and they could continue on their way. “We’ve gotta get going,” he said. “We’re on our way to dinner.”
Grabbing his fiancée’s hand, he started to move and stopped when the interaction continued.
"I'm surprised you're still doing whatever it is you're doing with the same woman,” Lorraine said. “I'd think you would've grown tired of her by now with how you go through women."
He knew staying here was a bad idea. He ground his teeth, glaring, and didn’t have a chance to respond since Cielito beat him to it.
"Surprise, bitch," his fiancée said, holding up her hand, "we're engaged, so why don't you fuck right off with your shitty attitude and leave us the hell alone."
The other woman's eyes flashed as she looked at the ring. "His track record with weddings isn't great, and I wouldn't be surprised if he disappeared on you, too; that's what he's good at, up and leaving, and I doubt him giving you a ring is really gonna hold him to marrying you—there’s also the fact he spent over a decade paying a different woman to fuck him every night, and I just think he’s too much of a slut to settle down."
Cielito lunged toward her, and Javier quickly had his arms around her to hold her back.
"You don’t fucking know him!” she yelled, trying to break out of his hold. “And I don't recall him getting you a ring, you jealous hag!" Lorraine scoffed, and the woman in his arms went still. "That's it," she said, having a realization. "You know, I thought it was really fucking weird that you're married and have a whole ass family but are so obsessed with a guy you dated for a handful of months and tried to baby trap—you're jealous," she stated matter-of-factly. "I bet Javi was the best sex you ever had, and you hate you couldn't keep him—it grinds your fucking gears that he's in an actual, loving relationship with another woman who gets that fucking spectacular dick on the regular and is treated like a goddess while your husband probably doesn't even know where the clit is, and only cares about getting himself off; honestly, with how much of a fucking cunt you are to Javi, I'm gonna assume the only orgasms you've had since him were with your own fingers because the man you're married to is godawful in bed and it wouldn’t shock me, most likely cheating on you—and that's what you fucking deserve for being the biggest, selfish, stuck up bitch in the world."
The other woman's face was bright red, and she dropped her bags, Tammy and Tracy immediately grabbing onto her to keep her from moving toward Cielito, her expression showing pure rage.
His wonderfully amazing, beautiful, badass wi-fiancée seemed to have struck a nerve, and he had to keep himself from laughing at the other woman’s anger.
"I'm not fucking jealous!" Lorraine shouted. "He was lucky I even bothered dating a loser like him! And he humiliated me! Me! I was the prom queen! I’m a beauty queen! I come from money! My family name means something here! He had the chance to be something more than a poor farm boy with me! You're delusional if you think he'd marry an ugly fucking nobody like you when he wouldn’t even marry me!"
He was already pissed off, but that made him want to scorch the earth she walked on. He stepped in front of Cielito, his tone going icier than the Arctic. "Shut the fuck up, Lorraine," he said, staring daggers at her. "I've had it with your shit."
The woman stopped struggling, eyes wide like she couldn’t believe he was talking to her like this.
"You can insult me all you fucking want,” he told her, “but you will not talk about the woman I love like that, no matter how fucking jealous you are of her—and she's right. You are jealous, and you should be because you don't hold a single fucking candle to her.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “I actually love her. I love her so fucking much, I proposed to her with my mother's ring, and what did I give you when you tried to trick me into marrying the devil incarnate? Fucking nothing because you meant nothing to me and deserved nothing from me. I'm done, Lorraine. I no longer feel bad about how things ended, and I’m fucking glad I left your ass at the altar because it led to me meeting the woman of my dreams who’s far more prettier than you and is somebody—she’s somebody better than you.” His hands went to his hips. “This is the last time you or anyone else in your shitty family harasses me—” He pointed at himself. “—or the people I love—it better be, or I'll get the Sheriff involved, and I’m sure with his connections over at the courthouse, they’d be more than happy to strap you fuckers with restraining orders.” Sheriff Arturo was respected and had a lot of pull in the community; he also was Javier’s boss and a family friend, who’d be more than happy to fuck with Lorraine’s family on his behalf. “As my future wife said,” he continued, “you can fuck right off; whatever this was is over. Have a nice life.”
His ex's face was so red, a vein was bulging in her forehead, while her mouth opened and closed, unable to speak from clearly being too angry and shocked. He grabbed Cielito's hand and pulled her around the other three women behind him. They were walking away, their backs to the trio, and he heard a frustrated scream, followed by an “I’m not jealous of her, and Rick isn’t cheating on me! He just works late at the office!” The other women were trying to calm her down, which made him smile.
It was about fucking time he told her off, and he felt free—a weight had been lifted; he no longer had to walk on eggshells. He was finally fucking free of his past, and it was like he could actually breathe.
There was nothing more he wanted to do than kiss the woman he loved, who always stood up for him and was simply incredible. They went across a street to be on the same block as their destination, passing people as they walked.
Cielito came to a stop, and he did, too; Javier grunted when she shoved him into an alley, making him stumble a few steps. The space between the two buildings was wide enough for a walkway, and he was confused when he turned her way, his eyes widening when she grabbed the lapels of his coat and pushed his back against the wall, her mouth following to crash into his.
A surprised sound left his throat that turned into a guttural groan when it registered she was kissing him; his arms wrapped around her back to pull her closer to his body, sliding a hand down the rough denim of her jacket to the buttery soft satin of her dress skirt to grab her ass.
It was obvious she was turned on, and he moaned when she palmed his dick over the front of his jeans. He didn’t need to ask what had gotten into her and had her all over him in a random alley; he knew it was because of how he talked to his ex, and honestly, listening to her lay into Lorraine on his behalf had his pants feeling tighter.
Her tongue licked hotly into his mouth to massage his own, and this was just what he wanted—to make out with the love of his life after they both told off the witch that ruined his life. Adrenaline was running high in each of them, and it was making them horny.
She had his body lighting up, prickling sensations shooting through him and making him thicken in his jeans. It got to the point where his lungs started to ache for oxygen, and her lips left his to sloppily kiss over his chin and along his jaw, as they panted.
“I wanna suck your dick.” Her sentence was muffled into his skin, her hand lightly squeezing over his half-hard cock.
“We’re not supposed to do shit in public anymore,” he breathily replied.
He’d love to get a blow job; however, he was acutely aware of their surroundings and the fact there was a steady stream of people passing by the mouth of the alleyway.
Her lips were on his neck, and it had him breathing hard as she licked and sucked at the sensitive skin, the scrape of her teeth making him shiver.
“That was before you were really sexy and went off on that stupid bitch.”
It was tempting. He glanced toward the sidewalk and realized how visible they were; anyone walking by could just look their way and see everything going on. They had too close of a call at the beach when the lifeguard showed up right as Javier was about to take off her pants; then there was the fact people heard them fucking in the bathroom at a bar—too many risks had been taken over the last few days, and he knew their luck would run out sooner rather than later, and he didn’t want to spend his birthday in jail; his dad would be so disappointed, and Steve would never let him hear the end of it.
He swallowed hard.
“You can’t suck my dick here,” his words came out rough.
Her head popped up with a look of confusion.
“Why not?”
“Because I love you, and it’s too fucking risky. I also don’t want your knees to get dirty.”
She pouted. “But you were so hot, you deserve a blow job.”
He smiled. “You can give me one when we get home or if you really wanna play with fire on our way home.”
She breathed out a long sigh. “Fine.”
He took her chin between two fingers, his gaze moving between her eyes and mouth, wanting to kiss her.
“Good girl,” he rasped.
His hand moved to cradle the back of her head, and he pulled her forward to smash his lips with hers, kissing her hard—his other arm was around her back as he turned her, pressing her spine to the brick wall while she clutched at the shirt over his chest, and he fit his thigh beneath her dress, between her legs for something to grind on.
He swallowed her moan, a sharp spike of arousal stabbing him in the gut at feeling the heat of her bare pussy through his jeans—he’d thought she was wearing lingerie under that pretty dress, but it looked like she was wearing nothing and that had blood rushing to his groin. She rocked her hips for some friction while his tongue delved into her mouth to tangle with hers.
This was safe—all people would see was them making out like a couple of teenagers. They weren’t doing anything illegal by kissing, though her getting off on his leg would probably be frowned upon.
Javier didn’t care; he wanted her to feel good, and he was in heaven getting to kiss her—he loved the feel of her lips against his and how their tongues danced together in a familiar routine. He loved the slight taste of her cherry-flavored chapstick and hearing her breathy moans and whimpers as she used his thigh to get herself off. He loved the softness of her body pressing into his and the heady smell of her perfume that made him think of his face buried in her neck while she held him in the comfort of her arms.
He loved her.
And just a kiss had him drunk on her—her smell, her feel, her taste, it all consumed him, making her every thought in his brain.
Her arousal seeped from her cunt, and he could feel a wet spot forming on the denim covering his thigh, her hips rolling to chase her release. His big hands grabbed onto her waist to help her move against the firm muscle, his cock now fully erect and straining in his pants.
He spoke into her lips, low enough for no one to overhear, “Are you gonna come for me? Are you gonna get off riding my thigh?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Good—use me, baby—make yourself feel good. I wanna wear your come on my jeans, Cielito.” He nipped at her bottom lip. “Mark me with it so everyone knows I’m yours. Make a mess of me, mi amor—keep rubbing that perfect clit for me.”
Her mouth separated from his, trailing wet kisses over the line of his jaw, to his neck, Javier’s eyes rolling back when she sucked over his pulse point hard enough to leave a mark—arousal was burning hot in his belly, sparks skittering through his body.
His voice was ragged, “I love you so fucking much.” He cupped her face, moving her head to get his mouth back on hers. “You were so fucking sexy sticking up for me,” he murmured against her lips. “I’m yours; all of me belongs to you. I’ll fight for you, I’d die for you, I’d go to war for you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe, and I won’t let anyone fuck with you.” He kissed her. “You’re mine—you’re my everything, and when we get home, you can have me however you want.” Grabbing her hand, he pressed it to his hard-on. “This is yours.” He put her palm over his heart. “This belongs to you.”
“I’m close,” she moaned.
Both of his hands moved to grip the globes of her ass over her dress, canting her hips back and forth, assisting her movements. "Come on, mi amor, come for me. Keep riding my thigh with that pretty pussy, and come."
His mouth claimed hers once more, dampening her sounds and deepening the kiss with a press of his tongue between her lips.
Moments passed of their mouths fused together and her wet cunt grinding against the flexed muscles of his thigh, when she hit her peak, her motions stopping, and her body tensing up tight, coming with a loud moan that vibrated in the back of her throat. He broke the kiss, sharing her panted breaths.
"Good girl," he purred and caressed her cheek, pecking her on the lips before they blazed a trail across her jaw to her neck, where he tasted her salty skin, kissing and sucking at it as she came down from her high.
It took a minute for her to speak.
"It's your birthday," she said, "why am I getting all of the orgasms? There was this morning in the bathroom, and now this. How do you not have blue balls?"
His head lifted to look her in the eyes with a smile. “It is my birthday, and I’m doing something I love, which is making you come, and yeah, my balls are aching a bit from not getting off, but I’m saving myself for tonight because I’m curious about what you have planned—I saw you put the sex towel on the bed before we left the apartment."
The sex towel was a big, thick, black towel they brought out when they didn’t want to dirty the bedding, like if she was on her period or he was in the mood to make her squirt—it kept things from getting too messy. If the sex towel was out, it meant they were gonna have some fun, and he was dying to know what she intended to use it for.
She laughed, looping her arms around his neck. “I’m not gonna spoil the surprise,” she said, smiling big. “But you’re gonna lose your fucking mind and probably ask me to marry you again.” Her eyebrows wagged.
That had excitement thrumming through him.
He grinned. “It wouldn’t take much to make me propose to you again.”
“That’s true.” His fiancee nodded. “You, sir—” She poked him in the chest. “—are incredibly whipped.” She flicked her wrist and made a noise like she was cracking a whip, which made Javier chuckle.
“Yes, I fucking am,” he said proudly.
“God, it’s so hot how much you’re into me.”
“Yeah—gets me going how much you love me, too.”
“The sweetest man,” she replied, leaning forward to kiss him. Her eyes were on his when she pulled back. “We better get going. We’re gonna be late to dinner.”
“Shit.” He checked his watch, then looked at her. “Pop’s probably wondering where the fuck we are.” Javier stepped away from her and turned his back to the alley’s entrance to adjust himself in his jeans and hide his hard dick by trapping it under his waistband—a dark patch had formed over the denim covering his thigh from her come.
Facing her again, his hands held her face, and he kissed her tenderly, his gaze on hers when they separated, and his lips turned up in a soft smile—she looked just as happy and so fucking beautiful. He was kicking himself in the ass for not taking a picture of her before they left for dinner.
“I love you,” he said. “Thank you.” His thumbs stroked across the apples of her cheeks.
Her eyebrows furrowed. “For what?”
“Loving me, marrying me, protecting me, making me happy—I can keep going.” He smiled. “Thank you for being with me and changing my life for the better; thank you for giving me shit to actually live for. And today, thank you for making this the best birthday I’ve had in a long time.”
“Even with what happened earlier?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I love it when you defend me, and it felt fucking amazing to go off on her—it was long overdue.”
“It was, and I’m proud of you.” She kissed him. “You also have nothing to thank me for—I love you, and all I want is for you to be happy.”
“I’m so fucking happy.”
Nothing was more true.
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Javi was glued to your side as you walked the rest of the way to the restaurant. His arm was across your shoulders, keeping you tucked against him while his head was tilted your way, chatting about nothing important.
Before arriving at your destination, ringing sounded from inside your purse, and you wondered who would be calling. It took you a second to feel around in your bag to get the sturdy Nokia phone out, seeing your best friend’s name on the screen. You and Javi moved to the side of the sidewalk and out of the way of the other pedestrians.
“Robyn’s calling.” Confusion was laced in your tone.
“Didn’t you tell her we were going out tonight?” Javi asked.
“Yeah, this afternoon when I called her to debrief about our trip. I wonder what she wants.”
You hit the answer button and put the cell phone to your ear.
“Hello?” you said.
Her best friend spoke in her Texas twang. “What the fuck happened with Lorraine?”
“Hi to you, too—how in the world do you already know about that? It’s been fifteen minutes!”
“I’m at my mama’s, and she got a call from her neighbor, Miss Caroline, down the road, who heard from Mrs. Bell, whose daughter, Bernice, works at the jewelry shop downtown that Lorraine got into a screamin’ match with Javier Peña and the nurse he’s datin’ on the sidewalk outside the store—girl, you better spill.”
You were taken aback by how quickly word had spread.
“I cannot believe people are already talking about it…”
“Somethin’ excitin’ like Lorraine and Javier Peña havin’ a public quarrel? Of course, the news is gonna travel fast! You know better than anyone people still talk about their failed wedding.”
She made you frown. “That I do.”
“So, what happened? Tell me everythin’.”
“Well, Javi and I were minding our business, heading to meet his dad for dinner, when we ran into Lorraine, Tammy, and some other woman I didn’t care to get the name of—”
“Probably Tracy-Anne Walker,” Robyn interrupted. “She just goes by Tracy these days and is tight with Lorraine and her cousins.”
“Maybe?” you replied. “Anyways, we tried to ignore them, but Lorraine decided to open her big, stupid mouth to say some shitty things about Javi, and if he hadn’t held me back, I would’ve kicked her ass—instead, I called her out on being a jealous bitch because he’s with me, and Javi got a chance to lay into her, and finally, tell her to shut the fuck up. It was great; I thought her head was going to explode with how red she turned. Hopefully, she’ll leave us the fuck alone from now on.”
“I’m upset I missed the drama. From what I heard, after you guys left, Lorraine had a meltdown and had to be dragged back to their car.”
“Good. And that’s all that happened.”
“It’s surprisin’ y’all hadn’t crossed paths until now. It’s good you put her in her place.”
It was surprising you hadn’t had another encounter with her since the first one.
“There’s no way in hell I’d stand by and let someone talk to Javi like that,” you said, “and now she knows we’re not fucking around.”
“Yes, she does. Okay, I’ll let you get back to your evenin’. Tell Javi happy birthday from me again, and Chucho, hi.”
“Will do.”
“See you tomorrow at work.”
“See you.”
You clicked the end call button, and put the phone back in your purse.
“Everyone knows?” Javi asked, taking your hand.
“Yep,” you answered and started walking with him.
He breathed out a long, weary sigh. “Of course—this town is full of fucking gossips.”
“It’s annoying as fuck when you’re the gossip, but I’m guilty of enjoying hearing the tea.”
​​"I am, too—I love it when you tell me about what's going on at the hospital."
"And I love when you bring home hot goss from work—still not over that deputy finding out his wife was having an affair when he saw her at the motel he was doing a drug bust at."
It happened in a neighboring city.
"Yeah, talk about a fucking coincidence."
The place he chose for dinner was relatively new to Laredo. It was a nice steakhouse that only served locally sourced beef and had the best steaks in town. The owner was a local who'd gone to some fancy culinary school and spent time working in a Michelin-star restaurant before coming back home to open this one, and the food was surprisingly good.
Inside, the lights were slightly muted, the brick walls decorated in paintings of pastures, with some featuring cattle grazing. A bar was on one side of the place that could've come from an Old West saloon with all of the carefully crafted mahogany wood.
It was easy to spot Chucho when you arrived, the older man waving you over to the booth he was in. His white straw cowboy hat was sitting on the table with a cold bottle of beer and three menus, the man getting up as you approached with a beaming smile.
"Hola, mis hijos (Hello, my children)," he greeted and gave you a big bear hug when you were close enough, then a simpler hug to Javi that included some back pats. He looked your way when he stepped back. “Quiero ver el anillo (I want to see the ring).”
Holding out your hand, he took it in one of his as he admired the engagement ring through his glasses—the gold band that used to belong to his wife with a decent-sized princess cut diamond in the middle, flanked by two smaller ones on either side of it, Chucho’s eyes beginning to shine.
“Es hermoso (It’s beautiful),” he said. Glancing at Javi to your right, he continued, “A tu mamá le encantaría que intercambiaste el diamante original por algo más grande y estaría muy orgullosa de ti, Mijo (Your mom would love that you exchanged the original diamond with something bigger and she would be so proud of you, Mijo). Ella estaría tan feliz (She would be so happy). Permítanme tomar una foto (Let me take a picture).” He turned back to the table, lifting his hat to get his camera under it, and faced you again.
“De verdad, Pop (Really, Pop)?” Javi asked. “Quieres tomar una foto aquí (You want to take a photo here)?”
“Sí (Yes).” He nodded. “Quiero tomar una foto de la primera vez que la vi usándolo (I want to take a photo of the first time I saw her wearing it)—dale un respiro a tu padre (give your father a break). Estoy emocionado (I’m excited).”
“Yeah, Javi,” you said, looking over at your fiancé with a smile. “Let your dad enjoy this.”
“Fine,” Javi replied, wrapping his arm around you to pull you against his side.
Chucho put the camera up to his face. “Okay, Mija, put your left hand on his chest so we can see the ring.” You turned your body toward your future husband and pressed your left palm over his heart. “Perfect. Now smile—a bigger smile than that, Javier, you’re getting married!”
“Sorry,” Javi said. “People are staring.” He hugged you closer to him.
“That’s better.” The flash went off, making you blink as spots dotted your vision. The camera was lowered. “See, that wasn’t so bad. Now, please sit. I want to hear about your trip.”
“Thank Christ,” Javi said under his breath and let you scoot into the side of the booth you were going to share.
A server came over to get your drink orders the moment the three of you had settled in your seats, and Chucho put the camera back under his cowboy hat. Javi’s arm was around your back, with his hand under your jacket, drawing shapes against your dress-covered hip with his fingertip.
“How are Connie, Steve, and the kids?” the older man asked. He picked up his beer and took a drink.
“They’re great,” Javi answered. “Olivia’s Spanish has gotten better, and the boys have grown a lot since the last time I saw them. Steve and Connie are doing good, too.”
Chucho set the bottle down. “Good, good.” His dad nodded. “I’ll have to call Connie this week and catch up—I love talking to her. What’d you guys do while you were there, besides getting engaged?” He was smiling.
“We hung out with the Murphys,” Javi said. “Spent a day at the beach, went out for drinks with Steve and Connie, babysat the kids so they could have some time alone, and yesterday they threw me a small birthday party.”
“That was sweet of them. Did you get any gifts?”
“Yeah.” Javi smiled. “The kids made me cards, and I got a framed picture of me with them from my last visit.”
“I can’t wait to see it.” His attention turned to you. “Did you have fun and enjoy meeting Javi’s friends?”
“Yeah!” you answered. “They were wonderful and so welcoming. I had a great time, and I loved going to the beach. It was also really cute to see how Javi acts with the children—they love him so much.”
“I’ve heard.” He grinned. “He’s gonna be a great dad, which speaking of that—” he looked at the seat next to him toward the wall and picked up a large manila envelope he set on the table in front of you both, his eyes back on you. “—I said I’d put our deal in writing, and there it is.” He nodded at it.
Javi picked it up and unclasped the flap, pulling out a small, stapled stack of papers. His eyes moved over the first page before flipping through the others, the last one containing some kind of official seal and signatures.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Javi said in disbelief. His gaze landed on his dad. “You had your lawyer write up an agreement for you babysitting and us living with you?” He held up the stack. “You even have a rental agreement in here stating you won’t accept rent from us.”
“Figured that’d be good to have on paper.” Chucho shrugged. “You’re my son—” His head turned toward you. “—and my daughter-in-law and I won’t have you paying to live with me. Just having you there will be enough, and hopefully, I’ll have a nieto (grandchild) there, too.”
Leaning into Javi, you whispered, “You owe me twenty bucks.”
“Yeah, I do,” he said. “I can’t believe you went through all this trouble, Pop.”
“I needed you two to know I was serious, and what better way than a legal document.” He looked very proud of himself. “It was also time I met with my lawyer to update my will. We always had it that Javi would get everything, but I wanted to make sure you inherited all of mi Antonia’s jewelry and her recipe box, Mija.”
“Oh,” you breathed, your eyes suddenly burning. “You didn’t have to do that,” you told him.
His gaze was on yours, his mouth turned up in a sweet smile. “Yes, I did. It was important to me those things would go to you, even though I’m sure Javi would’ve given them to you anyway. I also wanted there to be something in there about the ranch staying in the family—I know you’ll have your new home to raise your children in and won’t need my old one, but I hope after I’m gone, one of your kids will want it.”
“Yeah,” Javier said, his voice thick from the emotional subject. “Of course, Pop. We’d never let anything happen to the ranch or your house.”
“Good.” He passed each of you a menu and took one for himself, his eyes scanning over it. “Let’s figure out what we’re eating and talk about happier things.”
Your future husband put the agreement back in the envelope and handed it to you to set out of the way on the booth seat beside you. The server returned with your drinks and a basket of freshly baked bread with soft butter, telling you they’d return to take your orders in a few minutes. As you all read over your menus, you idly chatted about the choices and were ready when the employee returned to find out what you’d decided on, taking the menus with them when they left.
“So,” Chucho started, his hand wrapped around the glass bottle in front of him, “have you had any ideas for your wedding?” His eyes went to Javi. “I can talk to Padre (Father) Jorge if you want to get married in the same church as your mamá and me. I still go there, and since you were baptized, I’m sure I can convince him to let you—he officiated a wedding there not too long ago between Juan Barocio’s oldest son and a nice Protestant girl.” He lifted his beer to his lips for another drink.
It was sweet of him to offer, and he was probably hoping you’d accept, but Javier and you didn’t want to have a big wedding and had no desire to get married in a church.
“Actually, Pop,” Javi said, adjusting in his seat to lean closer to the table and rest his arms on it, “we talked out what we want to do for our wedding.”
The bottle was set on the table again, and the elder Peña’s face brightened. “What have you decided?”
“You know the big oak tree up on the hill, you and mamá would take me to for picnics?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Somewhere on the trunk, I carved her and my initials.”
No wonder that spot was so special to your betrothed; it was somewhere he had fond memories of and had made new ones with you there, too.
“Yeah, you showed me,” Javi replied. “We wanna get married there at sunset with just you, Seb, and Robyn with us, and afterward, we wanna have a party at your place—if you’re okay with it—to celebrate with everyone.”
Chucho’s expression had gone soft. “That would be a beautiful way to marry your media naranja (soulmate), Mijo, and of course, we can throw a party. Have you picked out a date?”
Javi and you looked at each other. “Hopefully, in about a month,” you answered.
“I’ll call Padre Jorge tomorrow to see when he’s available,” the older man said.
Your fiancé faced his dad. “We don’t want Padre Jorge to officiate,” Javi informed him with a shake of his head.
Chucho looked confused. “Did you have someone else in mind?”
“You.”
His father’s eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline. “Me?” He pointed at himself. “I’d be honored to do it, but Mijo, I’m not ordained—if I marry you, the law wouldn’t recognize your marriage; you wouldn’t be legally married.”
“We have a solution to that,” you said and met his eyes. “There’s this church that will let you get ordained through the internet.”
He frowned. “I don’t have a computer and have never used one... I wouldn’t know how to do something like that…”
“Easy solution: we can take you to the library, and I’ll help you—Javi can just watch since he hates computers and types with his index fingers.” You imitated the way he typed by pressing the fingertips of your pointer fingers against the tabletop, pretending there was a keyboard.
All of the times you’d visited him at his office, you’d never seen him touch his desktop computer once; you had, however, seen him use his typewriter and were absolutely tickled by how he stared at the keys like they insulted his mother and only used two fingers to hit them.
Javi looked at you. “Are you seriously making fun of how I type?”
Your head turned his way. “Lovingly,” you answered. “I’m lovingly making fun of how you type like an old man.”
He breathed out a sigh and focused his attention on his dad. “Anyways, what my rude, future wife is trying to say, is she’ll handle the computer shit, and we'll just be there for moral support.” His hand gripped your thigh under the table. “Isn’t that right, honey?” he asked you.
Your eyes narrowed in his direction. “Did you just honey me? You have never honeyed me—Cielito, amor, hermosa, cariño, baby, babe, light of my life, The Artist Formerly Known As Prince, and Your Royal Highness, Queen of my heart, are all acceptable terms of endearment, that are incredibly sweet, and cause me to swoon like a Victorian woman who’s caught a glimpse of a male wrist; honey makes me feel like you’re mad at me or being condescending, which I know, it’s what Steve calls Connie, but they’re so… vanilla.”
“Is that your nice way of saying boring?” His amused gaze met yours.
“I mean… you said it.”
“They are vanilla, and I’m sorry, baby,” he said, rubbing his hand over your leg. “Let me try again—isn’t that right, Your Royal Highness, Queen of my Heart?”
You giggled and playfully smacked his arm. “You smartass. I do kinda like that, though. Back to our discussion.” Your focus shifted to Chucho. “Yes, I’ll handle the computer and do all the work while the two of you stand behind me looking handsome.”
The elder Peña chuckled. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll get ordained if you’ll help me do it. I’m touched you want me to be a part of your special day.”
“There was no version of our wedding where you weren’t there, Pop,” you truthfully told him. “We love you, and you’re important to both of us.” You gestured between yourself and Javi. “Having you officiate one of the happiest moments of our lives would mean the world to us and was how we hoped we’d be married.”
The older man’s eyes had gotten watery as you spoke, and he had to take off his glasses to wipe at them.
“Yo también te amo, mis hijos (I love you, too, my children). Me han hecho el padre más feliz y orgulloso (You have made me the happiest and proudest father). Desearía que mi Amor estuviera aquí para compartir esta felicidad conmigo (I wish my Love was here to share this happiness with me). Tengo que ir a verla mañana para darle la noticia (I have to go see her tomorrow to tell her the news). Ella estaría muy emocionada (She’d be so excited).” He sniffled, putting his glasses back on. “¿La visitaste hoy (Did you visit her today)? Le costaría creer que su nene tenía cuarenta años (She’d have a hard time believing her baby boy was forty years old).”
“Sí, Pop (Yes, Pop).” Javi answered. “Nos detuvimos en nuestro camino hacia aquí (We stopped on our way here). Nosotros necesitábamos (We needed to).”
“Bueno, bueno (Good, good).” He held his son’s gaze. “Feliz cumpleaños, Javiercito (Happy birthday, Javier). Te has hecho un hombre increíble y no podría estar más orgulloso de ti (You have become an incredible man and I couldn’t be more proud of you). Sé que tu vida no ha sido fácil, y como tu padre, me mató ver todo lo que has tenido que pasar sin tener ninguna manera de detenerlo (I know your life hasn’t been easy, and as your father, it killed me to see everything you had to go through without having a way to stop it). Me siento aliviado de que finalmente estés a salvo en casa, donde perteneces, y de que hayas conocido a una mujer maravillosa que te hace sonreír y te ama tanto como tú la amas a ella (I’m relieved that you’re finally safe at home, where you belong, and that you met a wonderful woman who makes you smile and loves you as much as you love her). Tu madre y yo rezamos durante años para que seas feliz de nuevo, y ahora lo eres (Your mother and I have prayed for years for you to be happy again, and now you are). Esperábamos que encontraras a tu media naranja y tuvieras tu propia familia, y finalmente está sucediendo (We hoped you’d find your soulmate and have your own family, and it’s finally happening). No he estado tan feliz desde que tu mamá estaba viva y aún vivíste en casa con nosotros (I haven’t been this happy since your mom was alive and you still lived at home with us). Feliz cumpleaños, Mijo (Happy birthday, Mijo).” He held up his beer. “Se te ha dado una segunda oportunidad en la vida y esta vez, sé que estará llena de felicidad y amor (You’ve been given a second chance at life, and this time, I know it will be filled with happiness and love)—finalmente estás obteniendo todas las cosas buenas que te mereces (You’re finally getting all of the happy things you deserve).”
Glancing over at Javi, his cheeks were wet, and you leaned your head against his shoulder as you raised your glasses. The two men took drinks before you all set them down.
“Gracias, Pop (Thank you, Pop),” Javi said. His hand lightly squeezed your thigh, and you grabbed it to lace your fingers together. “It’s been a great birthday.”
“I’m glad, Mijo,” Chucho replied. “That reminds me, did the two of you really have an, eh, altercado con Lorraine en su camino hacia aquí (altercation with Lorraine on your way here)?”
“Lorraine started it!” Javi and you said at the same time.
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waywardcrow · 25 days
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Haircuts and coffee.
Summary: A little story about how Fairy and Bucky meet and how far Fairy could go to protect someone.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader.
WC: About 1600 or something.
TW: Very poor science kwnoledge by me, a pair of assholes talking shit, language, references to Bucky’s past as the Winter soldier and the abuse he suffered at Hydra's, physical violence (don’t try this at home), goofiness, someone trips and falls, fluff and feels, reader it's pictured to don't be above 5'3 but I try to don't specify too much, let me know if I missed something.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.
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Everybody talked about “the incident” for a while.
That’s what Tony decided to call when his favorite lab tech decided to blast a not tested powerful weapon at some jerk agents.
In your defense, he had it coming.
Agent Smith was rude, obnoxious and misogynistic, he smelled like instead of water he used his awful cologne to shower and he made the mistake to be rude to Sergeant Barnes in your presence.
Three weeks ago Sergeant Barnes was found innocent of all charges against him and Captain Rogers took him to the Avengers compound so he could start living there while he finished his recovery, you remembered how happy he was that morning, not even Tony’s teasing could get under Steve’s skin and you were so happy for both of them, obviously not everyone shared the feeling.
There were some people whispering, not very enthusiastic about having the former Winter Soldier living there, free, but you decided to don’t engage with them, Agent Hill made very clear you couldn’t keep getting into fights with your coworkers even if they never were physical.
You weren’t a violent person but also you weren’t one to stand and watch something happening when you knew it was wrong.
So you focused on your work.
A simple weapon that could be camouflaged like a normal glove but it had all the power of Tony’s blasters, it was a delicate experiment because the material wasn’t resistant enough to the power source so it ended on fire or the blast wasn’t powerful enough, firing some sparks that only will scare you and no one else.
Tony told you over and over again to don’t pressure perfection which was bullshit because the man survived on caffeine and impostor syndrome most of the days, just like you. You continued to work until you were sure it was good, that’s why you decided to try it in a safe environment and, it was then when it happened.
You heard a couple of agents talk on your way to see Tony, they were watching Sergeant Barnes from the hall without an ounce of shame while he poured some coffee for himself in the kitchen, what you heard made your stomach drop.
“I don’t know why they let him out, he’s a fucking freak” Agent Smith said with a vicious smile in his very symmetrical face.
“Yeah man, they should never left him leave prison” the other, Jameson, agreed.
“They actually should send him back to Hydra, so he gets what he deserves”
At that, you saw Sergeant Barnes flinch and you realized he could hear them even if he was a very good distance.
It broke your heart.
He was so polite when Steve introduced you, he had such a kind smile when his best friend told him he would take him to the best burgers in the city that night as celebration and you read some of the files years ago when Nat put out all of SHIELD and Hydra’s information, you knew things you wished that could get erased from your mind and specially you wished the man in front of you never would have to suffer them, ever.
So yeah, you threw Hill’s advice through the window and went to agent jerk and agent douchebag.
“Take that back, assholes”
You were well aware how you looked, a small nerd with very big glasses and a very short skirt facing some six foot something idiots who could kill you in a heartbeat. Your mother always told you to stop being too impulsive but your father always smiled about it, calling you a troublemaker.
“Don’t get your nose in things that doesn’t concern you, lab rat” Smith didn’t like you, not so much after you declined his offer to go out which was predictable from someone like him, beside him Jameson let out a laugh that made you see red.
“I said: take it back and apologize”
Smith got too close to you for your liking, enjoying being able to stared down at you, like you were nothing.
“Or what? Are you going to cry? Or would you ask your new friend to kill me like he used-“ you didn’t let him finish, with a flick of your wrist, he got send backwards alongside his buddy, making both of them fly across the hall to the empty conference room to end in the garden, a floor below.
You looked at your hand, the good news was your experiment worked, the bad was Maria would not like this.
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That was how you ended in disciplinary action, thankfully Tony and Steve interceded for you, watching with Friday’s help the footage of the incident, Smith and Jameson had to apologize to Sergeant Barnes and you didn’t have to do the same with them. When they presented a complain, Tony swore the footage of the incident was gone and there was no way they could prove you hurt them. Also he promised them they would have nice assignments waiting for them after their recovery… in Alaska.
Maria was not speaking to you, tired of cleaning everyone’s messes. Yelena gave you lots of high fives that made you want to hide when someone else watch you both, and Steve, he was thankful for your intervention and you didn’t regret it but his friend couldn’t look at you in the eyes anymore.
It wasn’t that obvious because as part of you punishment, you had to spend a lot of time in the training facilities with Nat, Maria was convinced that it was perfect because you hated exercise and she was right, you were in hell.
Even if Nat was one of your best friends, she was a relentless trainer, tough and disciplined, all you weren’t when it came to run in circles.
“Come on, Fairy” she yelled at you from her position, very ahead of you “I need you to run like Pedro Pascal is waiting for you!”
The sweat was blinding you, your lungs felt on fire and still you managed to scream at her like a suffocated turtle.
“Don’t you dare use Pedro’s name in vain!”
The redhead laughed, running backwards like it was easy, for her it probably was and then you saw him.
Not Pedro Pascal, of course, although you were sure he was friends with Pepper and she didn’t want to tell you.
You saw Sergeant Barnes coming towards the run track, it wasn’t strange since he and Steve used it a lot but his hair, it was different. He had cut all his long locks leaving only a very modern haircut that make his cheekbones more evident.
Before you could think about closing your mouth, your foot got caught in something and you fell.
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It was so embarrassing being in the med bay for this.
Sam would never let you hear the end of it, Yelena got the footage and made a tik tok reel just for you, Morgan was the only one who took pity on you and left you a bag of Sour patch when she went to see you.
You were fine with all of that, the teasing of your friends and even your sore wrist but your literal high school celebrity crush saw you hit the dust, all because you were so busy staring at him. It was a good thing he was avoiding you.
Because life loved to make fun of you, he went to see you at the med bay.
“Hi miss, Fairy, I mean miss Fairy” he wasn’t sure he could get to call you by the pet name everybody used with you even if Steve had introduced you like that. Bucky knew your real name, of course, but you seemed to like being called Fairy and if he was honest with himself, it suited you.
“It’s everything ok, Sergeant?” your first instinct was to check on him and it didn’t went unnoticed by Bucky.
“Yeah, I am” he put a cup pf coffee in the bedside table and looked at you like he wanted to run from there “I came to see how you are, it was a very bad fall”
Your cheeks burned, why did this have to happen to you? If seventeen year old you could see you right now, she would slapped you for making this impression on Bucky Barnes, your favorite Howling commando, the reason you wanted to join SHIELD and even when you couldn’t, you still tried to do something good with your life.
“Yeah, it wasn’t- I mean, I’m fine” you smiled but it looked more like a grimaced gesture.
He wasn’t convinced, your arm had scratches and your left cheekbone was red, Bucky felt bad for waiting until this happened to talk to you.
“I brought you some coffee, Steve told me you like it like this” he lied, Bucky had observed you enough to know how you liked it, which was natural since you drank it like it was water. He fought the urge to hide his gloved hands on his pockets “I didn’t get to thank you”
“What for?” you asked before taking a sip of your cup, it was perfect.
“For standing for me, that day”
His voice sounded small even being this close to you and he hated it.
He hated you heard what they said, he hated that you felt bad for him and that he found you so beautiful when he had no chance with you.
Biting your lip, you left your drink and looked at him in the eyes.
“I didn’t want you to think they represent us, they don’t, there’s a lot of douchebags but there’s also a lot of good people here and we will support you” it sounded so cheesy but it was true, what kind of superheroes organization they would be if they don’t take care of their own people?
Bucky stared at you, not wanting to believe you were real, why were you being so kind with him? And why did he wanted more?
“Thanks, Fairy” this time, your pet name sounded sure on his tongue and it made you smile.
“No need to thank me, Sergeant”
“Please, call me Bucky”
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Hello! I wanted to write this so bad and I didn't care if it was very self indulgent and silly, I needed this, I love Fairy and Bucky so much and I hope you love them too, let me know what you think.
Love, Lily.
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withacapitalp · 7 months
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Toast
Link to ao3 for the stranger things writers guild daily drabble!
“I’m going to skip asking how you got into my house this morning, and go straight to what the fuck happened in here?!” Steve shouted after he finally got the window open, watching the smoke pour out into the open air. 
The kitchen was, in a word, a complete and utter wreck. Egg shells littered the counter tops, batter was dripping from the ceiling, flour was layered on the floor like freshly fallen snow, and two bedraggled teenagers were standing in front of him looking extremely forlorn. 
“We were trying to make you breakfast,” Dustin sighed as Max dragged a path through the flour with the toe of her sneaker, still not looking up at him. 
“Why?!” Steve cried, throwing his hands up, starting to get actually angry. He had woken from a wonderfully peaceful sleep to the smell of smoke and the fire alarm blaring in his ears, and he still had no clue what was going on. All he knew was they were in big, big, trouble. 
The kids knew they were semi-permanently banned from being in the kitchen. They knew that. Especially if he wasn’t around to stop them from their ‘experiments’ with food! Steve didn’t put his foot down about a lot of things, but this was the one thing that the entire Party actually listened to him on. 
So now they had not only broken in, but broken in to go against probably the only rule he had for them. He wasn’t usually a hardass, but this might merit a phone call to both of their mothers. 
“Why?” Steve repeated, his teeth gritted against the yell that was threatening to come bursting out of his throat. 
“Because it’s Father’s Day, jackass,” Max snapped, finally turning her glare upward, as if challenging Steve to say anything. 
The anger instantly vanished. Steve’s mouth shut like a trap, and his eyes opened comically wide. 
He had forgotten. There wasn’t really any point in remembering. Vaguely he knew that was why Robin and Eddie wouldn’t be able to hang out today, and that was the reason that everyone else would also be busy, but now he was hit full force by the fact that he wasn’t the only one without a dad today. 
Or, apparently he was, because according to Dustin and Max, he was the one they were going to celebrate today with. 
And that wasn’t terrifying at all. Nope. Steve wasn’t freaked out by that whatsoever. 
It wasn’t like he didn’t know that the kids saw him as someone to look up to. But there was knowing that, and there was having the two without father figures break into his house just to try and make him something to show that they cared about him. 
And Steve had spent the better part of the last ten minutes lecturing them. 
“Well, the toast survived,” He said slowly, walking around Dustin and Max and over to the kitchen table where two pieces of sad burnt toast were sitting on a blue china plate. 
“Barely,” Dustin grumbled, turning and leaning into Steve’s side. Max hooked her chin over Steve’s shoulder to join them in staring at the slightly depressing toast. 
“Don’t be mean to my toast. It was made with love,” Steve defended, grabbing the plate and holding it high above their heads as both kids groaned and reached up to take it away, complaining about how gross he was being. 
“Let’s take this inside and watch some tv. Then we can clean this up, and I’ll show you guys how to properly make breakfast,” Steve declared, already going towards the living room, “You know, for next Father’s Day. ” 
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janesaridoll · 8 months
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Birthday princess 
pairing || woc!reader x mob!ari levinson
genera || fluff.
summary || how’s Ari dealing with someone trying to disrespect his girl.
wordcount || 2,4K
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A vicious man who will go to any length to make his sweetheart smile.
Growing up, Ari enjoyed his mother's elaborate celebrations, where everything had to be extravagantly flawless—whether they were birthday parties, wedding anniversaries, or charity events. He thinks his mother did all that to compensate for her husband, his father’s harsh reality.
He especially gets excited whenever his birthday is nearing, he loved when he was ten and he loves it now, almost thirty seven years old.
Even though, it's different from when he was younger, he still enjoyed it. However, the idea of someone not celebrating their milestone were awful to him, So when he found out his precious girl never celebrated her birthday he was horrified.
He couldn’t fathom that someone not celebrating their birthday especially someone as sweet as his girl.
Your birthday was never acknowledged by your parents. Not even a happy birthday was said. Although, your siblings celebrated theirs, no one ever seemed to remember yours.
As you got older, you just forget about it. You knew you missed something, but there was nothing you could do to persuade your parents to celebrate your birthday because they always had some excuse not to.
At first, you resisted Ari's insistence on throwing you a birthday party. Therefore, Ari did not celebrate your first birthday together as he had intended while you two were together. But of course he did do something to celebrate.
He took you to an upscale restaurant, after both of you finished eating, he gave you your gift; an elegant pair of earrings. That was the first time anyone had ever given you anything. You were appreciative, till this day you never taken them off.
The following year, when your birthday approached, Ari broached the subject once more, you told him you didn't care and that what you both did last year was enough yet Ari didn't think so. He wants to give you the experience of celebrating your birthday properly.
After much persuasion, you agreed to the birthday party, Ari got his mother's party planner number in order for you to contact her to plan your birthday, he didn’t set a budget for it; just told you to do what your heart desired.
"I want everything to go as smoothly as possible, Steve, I don't want anything to go wrong," Ari says as he sips from his brownish liquor.
"Of course, I'll tell Peter to oversee everything," you'd assume from the way they're both talking seriously in their black suits that it had to be about business. No, it's Ari's princess 24th birthday celebration. Which, if you think about it, is more important.
Ethan, your bodyguard and friend, is racing with with staff members making sure everything is perfect for your birthday, including the lights, decorations, DJ, food and drinks.
“She even got Ethan to do all the work” steve mumbled to Ari who let out a chuckle “I can’t believe he’s the toughest one of our men” He sips the rest of his drink before smiling to himself “wait for me in the werehouse” Steve only nodded.
He went upstairs to the guest bedroom where you had your makeup artist and hairstylist stay because Ari doesn't like it when people are in his room.
He stared at you from the doorway, completely captivated; the expression of happiness in your eyes brought happiness to him as well; he can't believe someone could be so cruel as to not love or spoil you in the way you deserve.
"Can you leave us for a minute?" As soon as he said it, the room quieted down, and your best friend, Nat, who you met through Ari's friends, spoke up, "sure, we will be outside," she patted your shoulder. She had already dressed in a black silk dress, done her makeup beautifully with smokey eyes and her signature red lipstick that matches her hair, she looks stunning.
"You look pretty," he began, staring at you from the mirror “you do, too," you said, turning around to face him.
He takes a step closer to you, as soon as he is within reach, you wrap your hand around his neck, drawing him closer to you, tilting your heads up to lock your gaze on him smiling lovingly.
"Ethan needs a day off tomorrow," when you noticed that the party planner were demanding you gave her Ethan's phone number so she could organize everything with him rather than you, you just told them what you want the theme of your party.
He initially objected, after all, he is the toughest man. But he agreed simply because he likes you and he wants you to have the nicest and most memorable birthday celebration ever.
"Sure, anything you want." Even Ari is taking a day off tomorrow, he wants to spend it with you while business is calm nowadays.
"You spoil me a lot," you said, kissing his jaw. He smiled “that's the least I could do for you. honey"
"Thank you, I love you too much." You kissed him again. "I love you too."
"I’m leaving for a bit; I've got a business to take care of, and I’ll be back before the party starts."
"Why?" You pout. Is he going to skip your birthday? You know it was stupid. You shouldn’t have agreed. Maybe your parents is right; it is a waste of time.
"They need me there; it won’t take too long, maybe an hour max," he told you while curdling your face between his large hands and kissing your lips softly.
“You promise?” You smiled softly at him.
"Absolutely,I wouldn’t miss it for the world” he replied, you kissed him again.
“I’ll leave you now to finish, honey."
“Okay be careful”
“Always”
He left, and the girls returned to do their tasks. Wanda followed Nat into the room; it appears that your friends are already showing up, so you should finish quickly.
“Hey! Nat told me you invited Ema?” Wanda said as soon as she’s stepped beside you, “hello to you too” you turned to her smiling.
“Im sorry babe” she kissed your cheek before continuing “is it true?”
“Yes, i thought it would be rude to invite all of our friend group except her!”
Nat spoke looking at Wanda “told you”
“Yep, she’s tooooo nice” Wanda replied.
“I don’t know, Ari is inviting his friends and business partners, his mom and sisters are coming as well as their friends, so I think it would be crowded and she won’t be a bother!”
“I hope so” Nat said before looking at Wanda who was fixing her red dress, adjusting her breasts “what are you doing?”
“I’m gonna go see Ethan, wish me luck” Wanda and Ethan has been flirting a lot lately, you know they would end up together it was just a matter of time.
Everyone has arrived an hour and a half later, including your friends, Ari's friends, and family. Nat helped you dressing up in your pink gown, you wore your jewelry as well. Wanda is working as your personal photographer; she took many photos of you before you had to go downstairs so the party could begin.
When the DJ announced your entrance, everyone's eyes turned to you, yelling and clapping, while your eyes scanned the the place looking for Ari.
As soon as your gaze latched on him, you smiled brightly, relaxing for a while before getting down and everyone began to approach you, wishing you a happy birthday.
You were quite apprehensive because it was the first time you had ever been the center of attention at any form of event.
Nat gave you a microphone so you could thank everyone who came to celebrate with you, and you specifically thanked Ari, none of this would happened if it weren’t for him. You wished them a good evening.
After you handed the DJ the microphone, you felt like you were being crushed in a hug by someone, and when you looked down, you discovered it was Ari's younger sister, Amara.
“Happy Birthday!!!!!” She said screaming a bit. You laughed before hugging her back.
“Stop squeezing my girl to death” Ari teased his sister before greeting his mom and his older sister Sadie.
When Amara separated from you Sadie hugged you, as well as his mother.
"Happy birthday, sweetheart; i loved the party theme!"
"Thank you, Mrs. Levinson," you respectfully said. The elder woman scoffs at you, "sweetheart, we've been through this a lot! Please call me Freya; you make me feel old."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'll start calling you Freya," you said hesitantly, knowing she had told you that several times but you always forgot. Your mother taught you to never address someone by their first name; instead, use Mr. or Mrs.
Sadie looked around “are we finally going to meet your family?”
Your communication with your family has diminished since you left for college; you text and call, but they don't reach out to you as frequently as you would want. It's what they've wanted ever since you were born. To forget all about you.
You gave them an invitation to your party, but they did not respond. And when you called they didn’t pick up, No surprise.
You didn’t tell Ari that, you didn’t want him to feel sorry for you. But he can see it in your face when his sister mentioned your family.
“Oh they’re busy, they couldn’t make it!” You hoped your excuse was believed and by the look they gave you they did.
After a small talk they left to join other people for dance and chatting.
Ari left you alone for a minute to talk with his friends while you drank and danced with your friends.
Hours later, it was time to cut the cake, two servants brought the cake to a table in front of you. Ari hand wrapped around your waist while your hand was on top of his, him and everyone else singing happy birthday for you.
"Make a wish!" Nat called for you, and everyone else joined her, you giggled before closing your eyes and making a wish.
After opening your eyes and blowing on the candle, everyone clapped and whistled for you.
"I want to show you something," Ari whispered in your ear. You turned around, looking into his eyes. "What?"
"Come with me," he said, taking your hand a bit further and directing you to the double massive doors, which opened immediately.
A Rolls-Royce Ghost in Champagne Rose pulled in, you could hear the stunned screams of the people surrounding you; you were as surprised as they were.
“Oh my god!!, you didn’t!!!” You looked between Ari and the car, Ethan stepped out of the car, passing the keys to Ari, who handed them to you.
“All yours baby” you jumped on him, hugging him firmly, thanking him constantly “I love you i love you i love you!!”
Nat and Wanda came close to you both “girl you have to take us for a ride!!”
“I can’t wait to show off my first car ever!!” You smiled big and jumped up and down while clapping.
Wanda smiled “let me take pictures of you with the car!” She took her phone out and you got beside the car posing while she took a couple of pictures of you.
You grabbed Ari hand wanting him in the pictures. He smiled before letting you posing him in whatever way you wanted.
If he could, he would have given you the entire world without asking, but for the time being, he will give you anything your heart desire.
Life has its own way of repaying you. While you spent the previous twenty-three years begging someone to spare you a glance, right now you could ask for anything and it wouldn’t be trouble to give.
From behind, an irritating loud noise was heard. "I told you that he is her sugar daddy!!" Everyone fell silent, wondering who it was.
Your smile faded slightly; you weren't a particularly confrontational person to begin with. People would walk all over you while you excused them. You were too kind and too afraid to ever react to anyone.
“Who said that?" Ari stated calmly yet furiously, everyone got quiet surprised at the person who is brave enough to insult Ari’s girl
Wanda and Nat exchanged knowing glances. Finally, Ema made a fool of herself in front of Ari.
They know Ari doesn't accept disrespect, especially to those who don't deserve it, and to disrespect his girl? Oh, she just dug up her grave.
“Ema did," Nat answered, unconcerned about your glares.
Ari doesn't want to ruin your first birthday celebration, but he can't let this individual get away with it.
When he observed a girl who appeared shaking with fear, everyone's gaze was drawn to her, he knew it was her, and he approached her moved in front of her eye sight, almost nothing can stand between them.
"There are two reasons for saying this; one is that you are jealous because no one has ever loved you enough to provide you with something you desired, or YOU don't deserve to be loved or cared for like i do with my girl, I believe the latter it is," he said as calm as he can be
He could hear Wanda and Nat laughing mockingly at her. Finally, someone standing up to this bitch.
“Get the fuck out of my house and don't ever think of disrespecting my girl; or the next time you won't have a tongue to talk with; are we clear?" She nodded so quickly
“Good," he said, motioning for two of his guards to accompany her out; Bucky pointed out for the DJ to play some music to keep the party going.
Wanda yelled “ oh my god i love this song”
Her and Nat went dancing on the dance floor, while everyone else seemed to have forgotten what had happened and continued to have fun.
"Are you alright, sweetheart?" Ari spoke to you in hushed tones.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, smiling back. "Do you know this is the first time I've seen you in your mob mode?"
“Really??” Ari was taken aback, saying, "I hope I didn't scare you."
"You did not, thank you for standing up for me; I really thought inviting her to my party would make her nice to me," you said, "I didn't want to divide our group into two sides."
"Sometimes, honey, being nice to someone so low is not the solution; if they don't respect you, they have to go; it's either they do or they don't." His huge hands comforted you by moving circles behind your back.
You thought for a moment about what he said "Yeah, you're right"
You got closer to him, your lips almost touching, "do you want to take my new car for a ride?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
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abbatoirablaze · 4 months
Text
Sealed, Steve Rogers
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings:  sexual tension, slight angst, mentions of fighting, underage drinking, dubcon/noncon relationship.
Part 2 of 3.
Part 1, Signed
Part 3, Delivered
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“My god, you’ve grown so much, (Y/N),” your future mother-in-law cooed as she pulled you into a hug.  You gave Mrs. Rogers a small, albeit forced smile as you pulled away and she got another look at you.  She reached out and stroked your cheek, “my god, I remember when you were just a little girl.  Barely knee high and going at it with Stevie like cats and dogs.  Now look at you!  You look like a refined young woman…”
“Yeah…it has been a while…”
“Been a while,” she giggled, pulling away from you, “been a while might have been a holiday or two…I haven’t seen you since your mother squirreled you and your sisters away from sight when you hit the end of fourth grade.”
You gave another forced smile, “yeah…I’m sorry.  I-I would have called…or written, but I-I didn’t have anyone’s numbers memorized.  A-and, well…mum thought it was best that I focus on school.  She always said a good education helps all.”
“It’s okay sweetie,” she smiled softly, “we understand…Steve’s sister just got married to that Parker boy…sweetest little couple you’ve ever seen…you’ll see them at the reception at the end of the week.  They’re still finishing their honeymoon.”
Your eyes widened, “oh no…I-I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to interr-“
“Oh, you’re not interrupting anything,” she laughed, “we insisted on Peter taking her on a nice little honeymoon to one of our villas in Milan.  They get back from there in about a day or so, so they’ll have plenty of time to unwind before your nuptials…”
“Yeah…”
“Sarah…maybe we let (Y/N) get reacquainted with everyone…I don’t believe she’s gotten to say hello to her father yet…have you dear?”
“Oh…uhm no,” you admitted sadly, the smallest of frowns crossing your lips, “I-I haven’t seen daddy yet.”
“He’s in his office,” she smiled as she looped her arm through Mrs. Rogers, “go say hello to him and pull him from whatever he’s doing in there.  He should be out here…enjoying the party.  It is your homecoming after all…and soon you’ll be a Rogers and not a Barnes.  All of you should be mingling…it’s your graduation and engagement party after all…”
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t do two separate parties,” Mrs. Rogers sighed as she gave you a soft look, “the girl should be celebrating all of her accomplishments…a party for graduating high school, and a party for becoming officially engaged to my Stevie.  I keep telling you Winnifred this all feels too cluttered…you should have let me plan at least one of the parties…allow me to showcase our home...”
“You’re too kind, Mrs. Rogers,” you offered, giving your mom an out as you put a hand on her arm, “I’m perfectly fine with just the one party.  Two parties so close to the wedding would have made it seem forced, wouldn’t it?”
She gave you a firm smile, “perhaps you’re right, sweetheart…you know, you always were a wise one, well before your time.  And how many times do I have to remind you, it’s mom…you’re practically our daughter as it is, (Y/N).  Lord knows Stevie’s been in love with you since the two of you were little…call me mom, sweetie…”
“Okay…mom…”
She chirped excitedly to your mother, cooing at how you calling her mom as well felt ‘all too right.’
Meanwhile, you rolled your eyes as you started back to the house, promising both mob wives that you would go to find your father, while ignoring the rest of the party goers and well-wishers. 
You barely had an idea on who many of them were, only knowing that they were associated with one of the five families, and here to ‘strengthen ties.’ 
It sickened you to your stomach. 
Everything was done to ‘strengthen ties,’ while they bickered behind closed doors and made stomach-turning deals.  All of them wearing faux masks of happiness to see one another, when they would all too quickly stab one another in the back for a chance on a higher rung.  But that was the nature of the beast.  One that you’d become all too accustomed to. 
You were glad when your parents sent you off to finishing school back in London.  You didn’t have to deal with anyone and could just blend in without having to be a Barnes, or the future Mrs. Rogers.
“Champagne, miss?”
You smiled politely, holding a glass in each hand.  When he gave you a look, you shrugged, “going to take one to my fiancé…or father.  Whomever I can find first I suppose.”
He gave a nod, one that said that he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t question it as he turned on his heel and went back to the main part of the party.  When he was out of sight, you downed the first.  Feeling the crisp, dry bite of the champagne, you rounded the corner and took the other, as though it was a shot yet again. 
A shiver ran down your spine as the warmth from the alcohol filled your belly.  You placed the two empty glasses along a desk sitting in the entryway. 
Sighing, you noticed that your father’s study door was closed.
It was always business with him. 
But stepping forward you could hear voices behind the heavy wooden door.  You frowned when you couldn’t recognize the one that was speaking, nor make out any words that he’d been saying.  But a roar of laughter made you pause from knocking. 
You recognized the melodic laugh of your brother, despite not seeing him since you were ten. 
“You gotta stop getting into fights, punk,” the thirteen-year-old chuckled as he ruffled the sandy blonde hair of his best friend, “you’re twelve and nearly losing to a eight year old.”
“He was nine,” Steve grumbled, shooing his friend’s hand away, “and anyways…I didn’t need your help, Buck.  I’m Steve Rogers.  The heir to the Itali-“
“You’re the heir of every ass-kicking from here to the Bronx with how you go picking fights…” Bucky replied sternly, his laughter fading away, “come on man…I shouldn’t have to rescue you from a little kid…all I wanted to do was enjoy my book and-”
“He was annoying (Y/N).”
Bucky gave you a small frown and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your eight-year-old chest, “he wasn’t annoying me nearly as much as you were, Rogers…”
Steve’s nostrils flared, “you know…I did it to help you, (Y/N)!  I did it because I was standing up for my wif-“
“Don’t you dare say it, Steven Grant Rogers!” You growled, cutting the older boy off as you wagged your finger in his face, “don’t you dare!  I am not your wife!”
“But (Y/N), you are going to be it one day!” he said quickly, “you’re going to be my wife!  And I’m going to burn down the world for you…or at least anyone that gets in your way.”
“You’re in my way,” you growled, “you’re always in my  way.  News flash, Steve…I don’t need you lurking around every corner waiting to be chivalrous.  I don’t want it!”
“But (Y/N) I’m doing it because I love you,” he simpered, attempting to take your hand in his own, “I-
You sneered, your face scrunching up at the words as you ripped your hand from his, “stop it, Steve!  I will never be your wife…because you won’t make it to adulthood.  You won’t ever be anything other than a scrawny little twerp who can’t fight his own battles let alone the ones you pick over me…and you’re gonna get Bucky hurt…just like the last time.”
Steve frowned as he turned to look at his best friend.  Bucky nervously pulled the sleeve down so that his cybernetic arm was covered by the sweater, “(Y/N)…”
You looked at your older brother, still angry over the accident that Steve caused years ago when he and Bucky first became friends.
“I-It was an accident, my lo-“
“I’m not your anything, Steve!” you spat, glaring at the young man, “now go away!”
Bucky took a step forward, “(Y/N), that’s enough.  Steve was being a good fiancé and looking out for you.  And right now, you’re being a spoiled brat and pushing people’s buttons.”
“You had to come save his butt!”
“Yeah…and he saved yours…it’s what family does for one another…” Bucky growled, defending his friend, “family makes sure that they’re safe and sound.  That they-“
“Then why did he let you lose your arm, huh Bucky?”
“(Y/N)!”
“(Y/N)!”
You were snapped from your thoughts, and you noticed that the door to your father’s study was open, and man just inside the door, holding it open was none other than your big brother.  You felt a bit of pride in your stomach as you launched yourself at him, “BUCKY!”
“Pipsqueak!” Bucky exclaimed happily as he easily lifted you from the ground, “What are you doing in here?  You’re supposed to be out there enjoying your party!”
“Ughh, gag me with a spoon!” you groaned, “last thing I want is another snotty person from one of the families telling me congrats.  I wanted to see you, robo-boy!”
“(Y/N)” your father scolded as he stood from his desk.  Your heart melted as you peeled yourself away from your older brother and started towards your father. 
In the years since you’d last seen him, he’d definitely aged. 
He was only about fifty years old, but time had not been kind to him. 
He kept his hair short and tight on the sides, as was normal from his military days, but the salt and pepper look that had graced the longer hair on top was all but silver on the sides. 
He looked like an aged version of your older brother.  A little bit smaller, and definitely less muscle-mass, as well as the obvious differences in the fact that your father had both of his arms, while one of your brothers was a robotic one, but they were very much the same otherwise. 
“Daddy!”
He smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, becoming wrapped in the scent of the posh cologne that he wore that reminded you of smokey bourbon and fresh leather. His scolding of you had quickly faded and he allowed himself to melt under your touch. 
“Oh, sweetheart…I’ve missed you…it’s nice to have all of my children so close to home again…”
“How’ve you been.  Wha-“
“Good…good!” he smiled, pulling away from you, “but I don’t want to talk about me.  Tonight is about you, honey.  You and Steve!”
You groaned, hearing your fiancé’s name, “Daddy….can we just not talk about Steve Rogers for a second…you know that I don’t want to marry him.”
“Don’t worry…I think you’ve made that abundantly clear since we were children.”
You paled as you turned around and noticed a man that you didn’t recognize, standing off to the side of the room.  He was watching you interacting with his father while he kept his hands in his pockets.
You felt a blush rising to your cheeks as you stared back at the attractive man. He was tall and muscular…well built.  His sandy blonde hair was styled elegantly, and he was dressed to the nines.  You felt your heart fluttering as he looked at you with his cerulean stare and pouty lips. 
Was he someone new to your father’s crew?
But then the words snapped in your mind.
‘Don’t worry…I think you’ve made that abundantly clear since we were children.’
And you paled once more.
NO!
It couldn’t be.
Your stomach turned. 
Had you just been guilty of finding yourself attracted to him?  To Steve Rogers. 
You took a few steps away from your father and started to back out of the study.  “Sweetheart, where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here,” you muttered softly as you backed through the door.  You were nearly there until you stumbled when you took another step back.  You thought you’d hit the edge of the door frame, but when you heard the crashing of a silver platter behind you and the crunching of glass, you spun, “oh fuck…”
You had knocked over a waiter carrying a tray of champagne from the catering space in the kitchen to the party outside. 
“And here I was thinking it was bad luck to see the bride just on the night before the wedding,” the charming blonde smiled as he leaned against the bookcase.  You shot him a glare, trying to focus your rage into him, instead of staring at his chiseled jawline and the way that his clothes clung to his muscular frame and slim waist.  He pushed himself away from it and pulled his hands from his pockets.  In three quick steps he was nearly on top of you, his arm already looping around your waist and pulling you close.  Your lips parted as you stared into his cerulean eyes, unsure of what to do or say.  A smirk tugged at his lips, “why did no one tell me that it’s also two days before?”
“S-steve…”
He chuckled, and the action sent a pulse straight to your core as he watched you, “have you been drinking, (Y/N?)”
You felt a whimper escaping the back of your throat as you lost all resolve.  You weakly nodded, unable to form the words. 
“I can smell it on your breath,” he chuckled softly, still holding you close, “You naughty girl…”
“Sweetheart…I’m sure you remember Steve…” your father reminded you, “perhaps…your brother should take you to the powder room though…or the kitchen and get you sobered up before we address the guests for coming to celebrate you and him…”
“Y-yeah…”
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russellsppttemplates · 3 months
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Hallo hope you have a great day my ask is
George gifting you a cat for his present and ask you to marry him
Or
He gave you a bad present and seeing how you still happy and appreciative about it he ask you to marry him
???
Note: I hope you don't mind this, but I've had this other request for a while and I had trouble posting it and had to delete the old ask, so I'm mixing them together!
George proposing to you but it rains down and at the end of the proposal you both are soaking wet
“So thank you, Allison, for the past 35 years of marriage. Here’s to another 35,” Steve finished his speech as he held his flute, kissing his wife as you all clapped. Still after so many years, Alison blushed at her husband, the effect he had on her still after all those years. The family had taken the day to celebrate their anniversary, the beautiful restaurant George and his siblings picked out stunningly decorated and the food was exceptional. The sun had not graced them with its presence, but it was still a good moment to enjoy with close family, George's siblings' families in-law as well as your own parents joining for the celebration, too.
"Can you come here with me, please, darling?", George said after you shared some dessert, his niece promptly jumping out of your lap so you could go, "sure", you smiled, cleaning your mouth in case some of the chocolate was left on your skin. Holding his hand, you excused yourself, walking with him to the garden of the restaurant. It was the middle of the week and, not surprisingly, no one wanted to be outside given that it was cold without the sunshine and it looked like it would rain soon.
"George, I think it's going to rain", you yelped, seeing him walk with a certain determination, "I need to do this now, or I'll chicken out again", he muttered, losing you a little as you tried to understand what he meant as he turned to face you just as you felt the first raindrop.
"What we saw in there? I want that for us, I can only hope our marriage is as good as that", George began as your eyes were wide, "I didn't fall in love with you at first sight, you know it wasn't that. Not because you're not the most beautiful and kind woman I've ever met, but because I thought I wasn't enough for you. But I would be damned if somebody else ended up with you and it wasn't me. I can’t imagine living even another second without you. I want to share every moment of my life with you, I want to be there for the good things and the bad things", he said as rain fell down, using his hands to cover your head so water wouldn't fall straight on your face, "I will take care of you - and carry an umbrella-, and give you my full support, no matter what happens. Y/N, I love you with all my heart,” he knelt down on one knee, not caring about his pants on the wet grass, "will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?", he proposed.
"George", you chuckled through your tears, not caring that now rain was pouring down on both of you, blending with the tears in your eyes. “Yes, I would love to marry you,” you whispered and nodded through the tears, bending down so you could kiss him.
George was quick to fiddle with the ring, putting it on your finger and kissing the soft skin, "I love you", you both muttered as he pulled you up with him, his hands on your waist as he spun you with him as your families cheered from the covered patio.
"You'll get cold, guys!", Cara called as her older brother whistled at the newly engaged couple, encouraging George to pull you down so he could kiss you, a movie worth show of affection as he finally got the answer he had been waiting for.
Walking inside the restaurant, you hugged your families as they didn't seem to mind your soaked clothes, "congratulations, dear, welcome to the family", your future mother in-law said as she hugged you. "I told you she would accept it, George!", your father hugged your fiancée.
Going back to your place so you could change and your guests could hang out in a more private place, you and George got changed before heading back to the living room, hearing the kids snicker and running around.
"I'm sorry, uncle George, he got out and we couldn't catch him on time", (now) your niece said as she pouted, holding a beautiful baby kitten. He had soft grey fur and big curious eyes, "darling, this was supposed to be a surprise, but this is Winston and he's ours", George smiled, bringing the car up to your arms as you cooed at him, mouth agape at the way he snuggled into you.
"Another surprise? You're full of them, Mr. Russell", you winked, sitting down next to your parents and cuddling the cat, "look at you, so cute!"
(Thank you for submitting an ask 🤍)
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blushweddinggowns · 4 days
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A Deep Dive into the Munson Marriage: Just Who is Steve Harrington?
By Fredricka Keith
The world has somehow been sleeping on the end of an era. The notorious bachelor Eddie Munson is married. But how did it happen? Who did he fall for? Surprisingly enough, those questions were very hard to answer, despite Munson’s past predilection to be an open book. 
He has been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about his new beau. Tight enough for the majority of his fans to be just as shocked as the general public at the new announcement. Even so, Steve Harrington hasn’t managed to stay completely out of the public eye.
The thirty-three year old has a dismal social media presence, but lucky enough for us, his husband and sister are much more giving. Though Eddie’s Instagram and Twitter mentions of his husband were quickly found to be useless in getting to know the man, despite the number of posts associated with his name. It probably shouldn’t have been surprising, considering how they were nearly all nonsensical compliments, written straight from his stream of consciousness. 
His sister, Robin Buckley, was better, especially considering that she’s been using the same Instagram account since 2012. Through her, we received a little more insight on the man. He had a penance for camping and exercise, often ready and able to drag both his sister and husband with him. According to a Birthday celebration post in 2017 it was mentioned his favorite movie is The Thing (1986) and his favorite cake flavor was southern caramel. 
As for his own career, Robin’s BrotherBartender hashtag was of some use, at the least showing us that the man was capable of creating gorgeous drinks, with a long past career in bartending. But that was it, the only information that was up for grabs.
While the newly Steve Munson has been to a number of events with his husband, he still remains an enigma. The only thing his red carpet showings have proved was that the former Harrington was a master at directing attention away from himself, and his husband was incredibly protective of his privacy. There have been many interviews cut short due to questions he found unacceptable, which was a brand new behavior for the star. His days of being an open book are officially finished. 
But the plot thickens. 
While neither Steve nor Eddie are open for insight, a thorough background check did reveal some interesting information. Surprisingly enough, marrying a rockstar was not Mr. Buckley-Munson’s first experience with the upper echelon. 
Through anonymous inside sources we were able to find that the Harrington last name was familiar for a reason, outside of Steve. His parents, celebrity lawyer Richard Harrington, along with his estranged ex-wife, Adriana Harrington, made headlines in 2012 due to their contentious divorce.
For those not in the know, the two C-list celebrities are most well-known for their continued campaigns against the LGBTQ community, as well as Richard Harrington’s unsavory choice of clients. Harvey Weinstein, Jeffery Epstein, Mitch McConnell, along with his earlier aid work on the OJ Simpson trial. 
His mother, Adriana, while not directly working with some of the most despised men in the country, is famous in her own right. The fifty-one year old has nearly two hundred followers on Instagram, her posts consistently centering around the sanctity of marriage, pro-life advocacy, and bible quotes. 
With this in mind, it is extremely hard to see how their son ended up in not only a gay marriage, but with someone who is flagantly against every single thing they stand for. Though after reaching out to his parents for comment, the picture of how they came together becomes more clear. 
Richard Harrington initially denied all allegations of having any children with his previous wife, despite direct evidence to the contrary. That was until Adriana Harrington settled the score, posting a series of photos of what appeared to be a young Steve Harrington alongside his father. Along with a caption reading: It doesn't surprise me that a liar would lie about his own son. But unfortunately, yes, Steve Harrington was ours. 
Though when asked for clarification on her own relationship with their son, she did not hesitate to reiterate that she had no regrets regarding how their relationship ended. 
“While I wish Steven had taken the tough love he was given to improve himself, I can not say that I’m surprised that he has turned out this way. It’s unfortunate that his deviant behavior has escalated to the level of making a mockery out of the institution of marriage, but that is out of my control. All I can do is rest easy knowing I tried to give him the best life possible. Him throwing that chance away is not of my concern.”
It was an odd choice of phrasing, considering how “throwing” his life away equated to marrying a multi-millionaire. When asked just what tough love she was referring to, she clarified: 
“Steven was given a choice to get help for his affliction or be completely on his own. He chose to be completely on his own. Whatever happened after that choice is a reflection on him. Not me.”
Though when further pressed on just when Steven was given this “choice” she only mentioned that he was “of age” but admitted he was still a teenager at the time of his disownment. 
When asked for comment after Adriana’s claims, the Harrington firm provided the following information:
“Richard Harrington has not spoken to his alleged son, Steven Harrington, legal name Steve Buckley-Munson for nearly fifteen years. While his name is present on Mr. Munson’s birth certificate, the biological relationship between the two has never been confirmed. Considering Adriana Harrington’s past history of infidelity, it is quite likely that there is no actual relation between the two men.
With that acknowledged, Mr. Harrignton would like to reiterate that he has no ties to Steve Buckley-Munson, Edward Munson, Corroded Coffin, or their label Virgin Records. He is a dedicated family man whose loyalties lie with his new wife, his two beautiful young children, and his clients. Those areas are where his focus will always be, first and foremost.”
It is a wonder that such a well-matched duo could ever end in divorce. But their answers only led to more questions. How could Steve Buckley-Munson have a sister if he was disowned as a teenager?
From the last chapter of this (finished) fic!
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piratefishmama · 1 year
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Live to Serve (You) | Part 2
“You have to come with me!” Steve had been following him through the palace for the past half hour, his lessons being cancelled for the day in lieu of the evenings’ festivities giving him more than enough time to pester his best friend and personal servant as the poor boy tried to do his chores. The day was one of celebration! The anniversary of the Princes’ birth, which meant there’d be a grand party in the palace in the evening, all manner of Lords, Ladies, potential future matches for the Prince to marry, that… well, Eddie was required to attend that.
He even had an outfit for it, even the servants were to look like respectable attendees at the sixteenth anniversary of the Princes’ birth, even if they were only there to serve the guests.
Main issue of the day though, Steve had gotten himself up and thrown Eddie’s whole daily routine off by ambushing him in the earlier hours to harass him.
“I can’t leave the palace, Steve you know I’m not allowed to.” It was like talking to one of the stone walls. Steve’s incessant pestering wasn’t about the party to be held later in the day. Steve wanted out for a few hours.
He wanted out, wanted to escape the seemingly endless labyrinth of stone corridors and walkways that made up the palace, wanted to go for a ride, but most of all, he wanted Eddie to go with him. “Okay but I’d be with you! It’s not like you’d be going on your own!”
“It’s not about whether or not I’d be on my own, Steve. It’s—” he finally stopped in his step, turning to face the boy that’d been stalking him long enough to wander into an area that he wasn’t actually familiar with. Steve had never been in the servant halls, the ones not lined with any carpets or portraits, just dark back passages lined with candlelight to light the way. “You know I don’t have the freedom to leave… don’t act like you don’t know that.” As much as he liked Steve, and he did, he adored the Prince, him and all his whacky quirks, the boy made his head dizzy sometimes, made his heart thump faster, his skin warm and tingly.
He could be awfully naïve sometimes. “M’not, I just—I just want you to come with me.”
“You spend most of your days with me, Steve, why not go with Thomas, or Carol? I’m sure those two would love to spend time with the Prince.” A young Lord and Lady, betrothed since their earlier years, the Queen had introduced them to her son half a year ago and they’d been sniffing around for scraps of attention ever since. Eddie hated them, they treated him as if he weren’t there, as if he were a normal servant, they’d even demanded he serve them. Steve had firmly put his foot down there.
Eddie only served him.
“Eh, I’ll see them tonight, you’re the one I wanna spend my day with.” Eddie was glad for the candlelight being the only real source of light, for certain a window pouring sunlight would show the warmth upon his cheeks at the comment. “What if we get permission from the Captain, or I ask my mother, if I get a yes from one of them, then will you come with me?”
He didn’t expect Steve to be able to pull that one off. He hadn’t been let out of the palace grounds since the day he stepped foot into them, his whole world was that palace, he wasn’t an employee, he was a slave. He didn’t get paid for his work, he got food, drink, and a bed to sleep in, but he didn’t get paid, he was working off debts that his father had racked up.
Still didn’t know how much his father actually owed. Or if his nine years of service had actually put a dent into it. He figured he’d probably never know, his life would be one of servitude, at least they weren’t cruel to him. At least Steve was nice to him.
So, because he didn’t expect Steve to be able to pull it off, with a heavy, put upon sigh, he replied “fine, if, and I do mean IF, the Queen, or the Captain, preferably the Captain as he’s the one who’d hunt my backside down for leaving, says yes to me leaving the palace grounds, I will go with you on your ride. ONLY if one, or both say yes. Actually. Both. You have to ask both.”
“Both?”
“Yes, both, I’m not risking my head because you want a jaunt through the wilds with a servant. They both need to say yes before I’ll go.”
“I could just—”
“No, you couldn’t, maybe when you’re older my Prince, when the crown is yours, maybe then you could just order me to go with you” Steve at least had the decency to duck his head, Eddie knew him too well, knew him well enough to know that stepping closer, and gently placing fingers to his chin to lift his gaze to his own, was a thing he could freely do unpunished. “But until then… while the King is away, the Queens’ word is law, and I remain chained to these walls.” Unfortunately that was something he had to remind Steve of often, so often that even he couldn’t wait for the day that Steve would take the crown, for sure the ideas that prompted those gentle reminders were just as perfect as the beautiful little moles littering his skin.
Steve didn’t even try to pull away from the pleasant touch, it carried his gaze to Eddie’s, why would he pull away when Eddie’s touch brought him so much comfort? Instead he lingered there, thinking, until Eddie pulled his hand back of his own volition and Steve had to fight his own urges to chase it. He dampened his dry lips with a swift swipe of his tongue, “so... if I get them both to say yes, you’ll come with me?”
Eddie still didn’t believe he could, so with a great amount of softness, he answered with “mmhm, I promise.”
It brought him a great deal of surprise when Steve dragged the Captain of the Kings guard to him an hour later to announce with a beaming grin that, “you can go with me!”
“Excuse me?” Eddie’s eyes flitting between Steve and the much larger man at his side, a man who looked at Eddie with thinly veiled amusement.
“Kid, you’ve been stuck in this place for nine years now and to my great surprise, you haven’t tried to escape once, you got one chance to prove you won’t bolt if given the opportunity, and this is it. Queen says just make sure you have her son back in time to prepare for the festivities tonight, he’ll need—”
“A bath, and suitable attire, I’m aware.” Eddie spoke as if on autopilot. Bathing would take an hour at most, his hair would take half that time and getting him dressed even less. Eddie was already calculating how much time they’d have to be out of the palace.
They’d have... plenty of time, the sun hadn’t even fully reached its peak yet!
“Good. Have fun boys, Eddie, don’t do anything that’ll have us hunting you down.”
Faintly, in the back of his mind, Eddie knew that at one point, he’d had a plan for escaping. He knew that he’d planned to scope out the palace, map his new prison out until he could slip out unnoticed but then he’d seen Steve and all plans had just, floated away. They hadn’t returned, he knew the palace inside and out, knew all the little holes he could slip out of, but he’d never planned to escape it.
How could he leave his Prince behind?
That faint resurfaced thought lingered in the back of his mind when he made his way to the stables not long after, having told Steve to meet him there as he had to change his attire to something more suitable for riding. He didn’t have a wide selection of clothing to wear, his wardrobe now limited to off white shades in shirts that sometimes looked a little too baggy on him, and brown pants he could tuck into his boots, but at least he could tie up his hair into a messy braid with a long cord he’d saved from an old shirt, he could still look good.
The other maids fondly told him he looked like a noble with his hair all tied up like that, that he still had the posture of nobility at times but in a good way. The littlest Lord was still in there somewhere.
And he was still excellent with horses.
He didn’t even notice Steve had joined him until he felt the softest of touches brush upon his hair yet he didn’t startle. He instead found himself turning away from the mare saddled for him, which had been contentedly munching hay out of his palm, to bless the Prince with a warm smile that dimpled his cheeks. “My Prince” he greeted forever fond of how those two words always lit the boys face up with the cutest of flushes.
“Your uhm... your hair looks nice like that” now his turn to feel warmth in his cheeks, he wished he hadn’t tied it up now, couldn’t hide behind it like he craved to be able to do. It was just them in the stables, just them and the horses, the Stable Master having taken one of the colts to have his hooves trimmed and shoes replaced. “You should wear it like this more often.”
“It needs a trim...” now down to the middle of his back, out of a tie it was long and unruly.
“I like it.” Maybe it didn’t need a trim then. Steve seemed to shake himself of whatever thought he’d gotten trapped in though, because he turned his head to the horse, abruptly moving to her side “so! Uhm, do you— I assume you haven’t ridden before, right? I thought that perhaps you’d want to ride with me? On a horse with me I mean.”
“You... wanted us to share a horse?”
“Well, I mean, I could ride and you sit behind me and hold onto me?” Eddie was almost tempted to hide the other horse, just accept his offer, as the mare, a beautiful sooty black coated mare named Sombra, was the only one he could presently see.
Sommer, the Princes’ white mare, was still in her stall, saddled but out of sight.
Had he been a braver sixteen year old boy, or still a Lord he’d have probably said something particularly daring, a sly quip lingering on the tip of his tongue about how if the prince wished for it, he could just ask him to hold onto him, but he neither had the status, nor the courage to voice it.
The Prince may have often referred to him as a friend but surely there were lines he couldn’t cross.
“I... I can ride” oh god was that disappointment? No, it couldn’t be, why would it be? “I uhm, I learned to ride when I was young, before I came here.”
“Oh... did you come from a farm or something?” He’d never told Steve where he was taken from. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he’d be going back, but it was awfully cute that Steve had not yet put the clues together.
Honestly what farmhand knew how to read? Or write in cursive? Or write at all?
“Or something.” He chose to answer with instead, smiling softly. “Sommer has her saddle on in her stall, she’s ready to go.”
“Right. Right ok, yeah that makes sense, or else Sommer would have been the only one saddled. Right.” Flustered and cute, the boy would never not make his heart happy. “I’ll just... yeah.” And off he went to gather his steed, leaving Eddie to gently stroke down Sombra’s long face before guiding her out of her stall, rounding her great form, putting one foot in the stirrup, and pushing himself up onto the saddle.
It’d been a long time since he’d last rode a horse, both his legs and his reach now longer, his grip stronger. He still knew exactly what he was doing though. Still knew how to coax her into a gentle walk, how to guide her out of the stables and how to make her wait for his company. “Where exactly are we going, Steve?” He asked once his companion joined his side.
“Catch” Steve tossed a pair of gloves into his waiting hands, a simple, thin but beautifully crafted leather that vaguely matched his own “they’re my old ones, figured you wouldn’t have any.” Answering an unvoiced question when Eddie looked at him in question. “Just follow me.”
“Why did you bring gloves for me if you assumed I’d be sharing your horse?”
“No reason” he answered so quickly Eddie wished he’d have had the guts to lie and claim he didn’t know how, certain he’d now never know what the reason was. “Let’s go!” Steve didn’t give him a chance to wonder though, the Prince already off toward the palace gates, forcing Eddie to put the thought to the back of his mind and push Sombra to catch up.
He was free.
Once they made it out of the city walls, the open fields greeted them, he could see the kings road that’d take him back to Forest Hills, that’d take him back to the people he’d left behind, could see the treeline that hid his past within its dense embrace, the little homesteads, the children he’d once played with, the mothers who’d once braided flowers into his hair then quickly removed them so his father wouldn’t see.
He missed the subtle scent of flowers whenever the wind made his hair dance. He couldn’t even remember their faces anymore, just that they’d cried for him as he was taken away.
They weren’t staying on the kings road though, although they were headed for the treeline, they were veering off to the right, toward what Eddie knew to be just fields, seemingly endless stretches of land between villages, dotted with the odd farmhouse here, an inn there, maybe a small grove of trees. It didn’t matter though, as Steve didn’t seem to have a plan for their excursion.
There was no end goal in mind, just two boys chasing each other on horseback through the wilds, feeling the wind in their hair, the freedom of it all, no responsibilities, no lessons, no chores, just them passing the time, goofing off as if they weren’t naturally separated by the largest difference in status known to man. A servant and a Prince. As if they were just two friends, two boys playing in the fields without a care in the world, there was no greater feeling than that.
So of course, it had to end eventually. It had to end with the setting sun that called them back to the palace at a steady trot, their hearts light and laughter dancing between them, Eddie’s hair having fell loose through the day now flowing freely in the breeze and a subtle weight in Steve’s pocket from an interesting rock that Eddie had found and presented to him as, as Steve decided it to be, the BEST birthday gift he’d receive that evening.
It was at the city gates when Steve realised Eddie had slowed to a stop somewhere behind him, the boys eyes lingering on the Kings road off toward the forest, the wind gently rustling through his pretty brown curls, hands tight on Sombra’s reins as his gaze remained fixed there on those woods, on the road that’d lead him off to freedom, to wherever he wanted to go.
“…Eddie?” That soft gaze fell upon him once more, a small smile graced plush lips, and Steve knew he didn’t have to worry about a thing. “You coming?”
“…Yeah” He gently nudged Sombra forward toward the gates at Steve’s side once more “let’s get back, my Prince, before the Queen crucifies me.” Eddie had freedom within his grasp, and he’d chosen Steve.
Part 4
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crazyunsexycool · 9 months
Text
My little love
Father’s Day celebration
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word count:2.1k
Warning: fluff, implied smut
The door of the bedroom opened silently. A whispered conversation was happening and it was enough to make Bucky wake up.
“Morning Daddy, happy Father’s Day.” Henry said as he stood by Bucky’s side of the bed.
“Thank you bubs. C’mere.”
Henry happily climbed up into the bed to hug his father. This was something Bucky was sure he was never going to celebrate. Of course he didn’t become a father the traditional way. Many people wouldn’t even consider taking care of children that were the result of abuse but Bucky saw past that. When he looked at his little loves he didn’t see hydra or what they did to the three of them. He saw everything that was good with the world. Henry and Charlotte were the best of him and the reason he got up every morning to fight.
“Where is your ma and Lottie?”
“On our way.” You announce from the hallway.
Bucky sat up and against the headboard as he waited for you to appear in the doorway. He looked over at Henry who seemed to be way too excited for his own good. A few seconds later Lottie walks in very slowly. She held a glass of orange juice with both of her hands, her tongue poking out to the side as she concentrated on not spilling a drop or tripping. You are right behind her with a tray full of food and an amused smile. Once Lottie was close enough to Bucky she raised the glass for him to take. Once he does Lottie’s face lights up as she looks up at her father.
“I did it, dada. Am big.” She says gleefully.
“That’s right. You’re a big girl now.” Bucky scoops her up and hugs her. “My big girl, I love you.”
“Lobe you dada.”
You smiled as you placed the tray on the bed and walked over to Bucky, giving him a quick kiss.
“Happy Father’s Day, my love.”
“Thank you, Sugar.”
“Alright, let’s have breakfast.”
Should you have thought more about breakfast in bed? Yes. Was there a mess after everyone was done? Absolutely. But the kids loved it and so did Bucky so it was worth it. Lottie had decided that since it was Father’s Day it was her job to feed Bucky. It was quite funny to watch her bring a spoon to his mouth while making airplane noises. Henry was sitting there giggling every time Lottie did it so it only made her want to do it more.
After cleaning up the mess made by breakfast and changing the sheets you all moved to the living room. The kids gave Bucky their gifts first. Just like Mother’s Day they each painted something on canvas with the help of Steve. Then they both presented him with two small booklets.
“What’s this?”
“This is coupons daddy. So we can do fun stuff together. If you use one we have to do it.”
“Is it for everyone?”
“No, one is for us and one is for you and Lottie. Mama said it’s like dates.” Henry informed him. “This is special stuff not like watching tv or reading bedtime stories. We can choose them together.”
Bucky flipped through the little booklets and sure enough it had special “dates” for him and the kids either one on one or together.
“Why didn’t I get one from mama?”
“She said she has a special one for you. Right mama?”
Bucky looks over his shoulder amused at the implication.
“That’s right, I’ll give it to daddy later.” You winked in Bucky’s direction before turning to grab one of the gifts you’ve gotten for him. He laughs before turning back to the kids and giving them each a hug.
“It’s your turn mama.”
“Yeah, mama has suwpwise.”
You grab a slender box from behind your back and give it to Bucky. He opens it and looks confused.
“They’re copies of my dog tags?”
“Turn them around.”
He pulls them out and holds them by their chain. While the front of the dog tags still have his information there is added information on the back. Like the necklace he gave you for Mother’s Day, the back of the dog tags have the kids' birthstone encrusted in them and the birth month flower as well as their initials. Bucky smiles at the gift and looks back at you.
“I thought you’d like to have a little piece of them with you. They’re made with vibranium and I created them myself. Maybe we can get some chains and give the kids one of your old ones.”
“I love these, thank you.” He kissed your cheek.
“Don’t thank me just yet. We have more gifts but first we have to change.”
~~~~~~~~
Like always Lottie and Henry walked in front of you and Bucky while holding hands. Honestly it was Henry holding a very excited Lottie back as you guided Bucky to the garage. He kept looking around slightly confused because you were dressed for the pool and not to go out anywhere. It wasn’t until you stopped in front of a parking spot with something covered by a tarp that Bucky looked unsure of what was happening.
“Go ahead.” You pushed Bucky lightly.
Bucky looks at you a bit confused but excited and he pulls the tarp to reveal a rusted motorcycle frame. There were no wheels or a seat or even handles. It looked like it had seen better days. You wanted to laugh as you watched Bucky trying to be excited about whatever this was.
“Steve told me how much you used to love the motorcycle you used during the war. Tony helped me track down the frame, which is original and all of the parts which are also original.” You point to a box that was pushed against the wall. “I thought since you enjoyed helping Sam fix his family’s boat that you might like having something like that to do here. You know a side project for when you need to unwind. Maybe it could be something you could work on with the kids.” Your voice got smaller as you finished talking. He hadn’t said a word and you started to panic thinking it was a bad idea.
“This is perfect.”
You put your hand over your chest as you breathed a sigh of relief. Bucky picked you up and spun you around.
“I love it, thank you sugar.” He kissed you as he put you back down on the ground. “What do you say? Are you going to help your dad fix this up?”
“Yeah! I wanna help daddy.”
“What about you, Doll? Do you want to help me fix this up?”
Lottie looked at her dad and then at the rusted frame and grimaced.
“No tank you, dada.” She shook her head. “Is yucky. I stay wit mama.”
Both you and Bucky laugh. If there was anything that needed to be known in this world it’s that Charlotte is a girly girl. She loved her bows and dresses and getting her nails done by auntie Wanda. So it was no surprise that she wouldn’t be chipping her nail polish on an old rusty motorcycle.
“Ok, we should head up to the pool.”
~~~~~~~~~~
The pool area was already full. There were agents with their families around but it was a more laid back affair than Mother’s Day was. Mostly due to the warmer weather. The team had already picked out their side of the chairs and pool. Clint’s family and Sam’s sister and nephews were also visiting. The latter wanted to visit and celebrate their uncle who stepped in and was a father figure in his own right. You handed Henry a gift bag meant for Steve and sent them both ahead to surprise him.
“I love this, thank you both so much.” He held up the small picture frame with a photo of him and the kids as well as a small oil paint set and a t-shirt that said coolest uncle ever. The last one was Henry’s idea. Steve looked up when you and Bucky got closer. “You guys didn’t have to do this.”
“Of course we did, punk. You’re helping us raise them so you deserve to be recognized for it.”
“You may not be their father but we both know that if they needed you, you would step up and take care of them no questions asked.”
“If you’re trying to make me cry it’s not gonna work.” He warned until his looked down at Henry and Lottie hugging him.
“Lobe you Steebie.”
“Love you uncle Steve.”
“Ok that will do it.” He bent over and scooped both kids up to share a group hug. “Don’t go too far, Buck. I got you a gift of my own.” Steve walks towards the wall where a gift bag is sitting away from the water and offers it to Bucky. “Happy Father’s Day. I always knew you’d be a great dad.”
Bucky smiles up at his oldest best friend before pulling out a framed drawing. You see Bucky’s eyes water as he looks down at a drawn portrait of his parents holding the grandchildren they never got to meet. The second portrait is of his three sisters with the kids. You wrap an arm around Bucky’s back and rest your head on his shoulder while he admires the drawings.
“These are amazing. Thank you Steve.” Bucky says as they embrace.
“Hey Robodad, I got you a gift too.”
Tony walks up to Bucky with some people following behind. You notice there is a resemblance between them. Maybe they’re related?
“I debated on whether I should do this or not but I think you and those kids deserve a bigger family.” Tony steps aside to let the older man step up first. “These are your nieces and nephews and their families.”
“Hi, it’s good to finally meet you. Ma, Rebecca, never stopped talking about you.”
Bucky was in awe of the small group in front of him. For so long he felt like he was alone. Now he had two kids, the girl of his dreams, his best friend, the team and he could add to that his sisters’ kids. Rebecca’s son opened his arms first, inviting Bucky on for a hug and soon enough you lost sight of him in a sea of brunette hair.
“You’re his girl right?” Bucky’s nephew asked.
“Yeah, I’m Y/N. Thank you for coming. I know this will mean so much to him.”
“It means a lot to us too. Now come on aunt Y/N, you deserve to get some of this loving too.” You both laugh as he pulls you in for a hug.
For the rest of the afternoon everyone spends it together. Asking questions about Bucky and getting to know the kids. Overall it was a happy occasion and nothing could have been better.
~~~~~~~
That night after everyone had traded numbers and promises of visiting again you found Bucky in your shared room. He was sitting at the edge of the bed with the drawing Steve had given him.
“Hey, everything ok?” You asked softly as you walked in.
“Yeah, today was amazing.”
“Good. You deserved an amazing day.” You say as you watch him place the drawings back in the gift bag.
“Thank you for everything.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. There is one more gift.” You tell him as you open the drawer to your nightstand. Bucky settles on the bed, leaning against the headboard. You straddle his lap and present him a booklet. “Henry wasn’t lying when he said I had one for you too.”
“Hmm, let’s see here then.”
Bucky flips through the book and quickly he begins to blush. He looks up at you wide eyed once he’s done and you only respond by wiggling your eyebrows. Bucky shakes his head and flips the booklet open again to rip out a coupon.
“Don’t worry about it. This one is on the house.” You wink before leaning in and kissing him.
“Wait, the kids.”
“Don’t worry they’re in bed, probably asleep already.”
“Yeah you know how well that worked out last time.” He huffs.
“Good thing they’re sleeping over at Steve’s place then.”
You give Bucky a mischievous grin and suddenly he’s flipping you over.
“Well then let’s celebrate.”
And you did, multiple times. But you would celebrate anything with Bucky. For him having children was sudden and unexpected. There was abuse behind the conception of those kids he clearly adored. You admired how he stepped into fatherhood with grace even when he could have stepped away from the responsibility.
In the morning your lives would be the same regular routine. But it’s one you wouldn’t change for the world if you got to see Bucky being a damn good dad.
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 3 months
Text
A/N: This is how my fiancee left me right before Christmas a few years ago. Although, he didn't accuse me of being in love with someone else, and it was my grandmother who died. We also had a very good relationship.
'87 to '88
Steve had felt it in the air that this was going to be the worst Christmas of all, and it was true. It had started off pretty well. He proposed to his beloved girlfriend, Heidi, and she had eagerly accepted. He was ready to tell everyone, just like she was, until he found out his mother died a few days before Christmas. Not only did he find out from his father over the phone, but he also found out that his father had already buried her. It broke Steve’s heart to know that he was never going to say goodbye to his mother, something Heidi was too selfish to understand. So far, she had been the only one to know about his mother.
"I thought you wanted to tell everyone!" Heidi exclaimed.
"My mother just died! Forgive me if I don't feel quite up to celebrating!" Steve exclaimed.
"Well, it's not like you were on good terms with her anyway!" Heidi yelled.
"She's still my mother!" Steve yelled.
"Yeah, and she's abandoned you on several occasions. Screw her. Why not try to make this a happy occasion. Come on, Steve, let's tell everyone," Heidi said.
"No!"
"Fine. . .if you don't tell everyone, I'll leave you for someone else!" Heidi screeched.
"What?" Steve gasped and stood back as if he had been slapped.
"I said that I'll leave you for someone else. I've been talking to a friend who's willing to be with me and only me," Heidi said.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He asked.
"It means that you're clearly in love with someone else," she said.
"Because I don't want to make my mother's death about you, that must mean I'm in love with someone else," Steve scoffed. "I told you before that Nancy and I have been over for a long time!"
"I wasn't talking Nancy. I was talking about Eddie," Heidi said.
"Eddie's a guy. I like women," Steve replied.
"You can like both, dumbass," she said, rolling her eyes.
"I love you," Steve said.
"I know you do," she said softly. "But you also love Eddie. It might not be clear to you or anyone else, but it's clear to me that you love him," Heidi said.
"I love you, I want to marry you," he said.
"I know that you do," she said. "You also want Eddie, and I want to be with someone who wants only to be with me."
"Okay. So, if you knew all of this then why the fuck did you agree to marry me?" Steve asked.
"Because I really wanted to marry you," she said. "I thought I could handle being your second choice."
"Fine. Leave then and leave the ring," Steve snapped. "Tell your other guy that you can be with him."
"I already am," Heidi said and placed the ring on the table before walking out the door.
Steve waited for a while after she left and picked up a vase before slinging it at the door that she left through. He had loved her, he really did but as she thought about it. . .she might have been telling the truth. He thought about all the times that he hung out with Eddie, how he always yearned for more, but he didn't know what. He had craved his touch and his affections. He had wanted to be touched by him all the time. Steve thought about when he finally left town for good and how Steve had stayed in bed for three days, how Heidi tended to him without letting the others know. Jesus, she should have left him a long time ago. He had wanted to be with her, though, as badly as he wants to be with Eddie. . . Eddie, who barely calls anymore and who doesn't even visit. Steve realized that he had been clinging to Heidi to avoid the huge hole in his life where Eddie used to be. Eddie was probably better off without him, everyone was.
A few days later. . .
Christmas had passed, and now, New Years Eve was right around the corner. Steve didn't see anyone, didn't pick up the phone. He just stayed at home with the lights off and the phone off the hook, so no no one would call him. He just laid in bed, and when he wasn't laying in bed, he was drinking. It was all very pathetic. He drifted off to sleep, and when he awoke, he heard voices from downstairs.
"I'm telling you something is wrong," Robin's voice whispered loudly.
"Maybe he just has a headache," Eddie's voice whispered back.
Eddie? Eddie was here. Steve sat up and groaned, clutching his head.
"Maybe, but my best friend senses are telling me otherwise," Robin said.
"Didn't they tell you once that Steve was dying and he only had a splinter in his thumb?" Eddie asked.
"Hey! Those can be very deadly if left untreated," Robin said and paused. "They can't be right all of the time."
The door to his room opened, and the lights flipped on. Steve groaned and hid his head under the pillow.
"Get out!" Steve groaned. "Turn off the light!"
He heard the sound of them moving through the room, the sound of them kicking aside beer cans filling his ears.
"Steve? What the hell?" Robin asked.
"Man, what happened to you?" Eddie asked.
Steve sat up, removing the pillow and tossing it aside. He glared at Eddie.
"Do you even care?" Steve asked.
"Of course, I care. Why wouldn't I?" Eddie asked.
"Why haven't you called me?" Steve asked.
"It's what you wanted," Eddie scoffed.
"It's not the fuck what I wanted. Who the hell told you that?" Steve asked.
"Heidi," Eddie said.
"Meddling bitch," Steve muttered. "You should have talked to me, I would have told you differently."
"I'm sorry," Eddie said.
"This all started with you leaving, basically. Couldn't even get out of bed. I loved Heidi, though, and she did pull me out of my funk. She took care of me so I asked her to marry me and she said yes. Of course, it all went downhill from there. I got a call a few days before Christmas from my father. He told me my mother died and to not bother coming to the funeral because apparently, they had already buried her. Can you believe that? All Heidi cared about was making sure that everyone knew, but my mother just died, and I wanted to work through it. She gave me an ultimatum. Tell people or she'll leave me. So, she left me," Steve said. "Everyone is always leaving me. I can't say goodbye to my mom, I won't ever get the chance to tell her how much I forgive her."
Steve collapsed on the bed and let out a deep aching sob.
"Oh, Steve," Robin said softly.
She immediately climbed up onto the bed with him and pulled him into her arms. Eddie climbed up on the bed and held onto his other side. Steve moved his head into Eddie's lap, curling his hand into Eddie's pants as if he was holding on for dear life.
"She said something else," Steve said. "Heidi."
"What?" Eddie asked.
"She said that I was in love with you. At first, I thought that she was crazy. . ." Steve asked.
"But now?" Eddie asked.
"She was right. She was definitely right. I didn't even know that I liked men, or maybe you were just the exception. I don't know, but I do know that I love you. I had this dream cooked up. After the kids left for college, I would buy this RV and leave town to see the world. I wanted you to be the one to come with me, but then you left, and I didn't know what to do. I wasn't sure how to fill the hole you left in my life. I'm not sure how I would have gotten by if it hadn't been for Heidi. I loved her. I did, but I also loved you. I love you," Steve said. "I know this is selfish of me, but please, don't leave me again. I know it's a lot to ask. . .to ask you to stay in a town that hates you. . .but please, stay."
"I've been right here, Steve, waiting for you. All you had to do was ask for what you wanted," Eddie said, stroking his hair. "I love you too."
"Eddie," Steve sobbed softly.
"Of course, we're not going to start right away because I think you need to get through this, and I do want to be there for you," Eddie said. "I just want us to start off properly."
"Me too," Steve said. "When the time comes, can I still kiss you at midnight?"
"Of course."
And when the time finally came, when it was just the two of them curled up on Steve’s couch, they sealed the new year with a kiss. It was a new year and the start of a new relationship for Steve. He knew that with Eddie by his side, he could get through anything.
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cherienymphe · 1 year
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all of my writing explores dark themes such as non-consent, dubious-consent, and a/b/o subjects. if any of this offends you, this has been your warning!
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『Ransom Drysdale 』  
『Chris Evans 』
None of Your Concern
Costars for a little over a year, Chris has always been protective of you in the cutthroat industry much like a father would be. However, when he learns that your boyfriend is even older than him, he realizes that his feelings might not be so familial after all
Need  to Know
Chris heard from a friend of a friend that that pussy was a 10 out of 10
…or the one where you’re shy and Chris gets curious.
『House of the Dragon』
『Coriolanus Snow』
A Caged Bird
Birds are best kept in a cage where one can see them…and where you know where they are at all times.
Everybody Knows That I’m A Good Girl, Officer
…and everybody knows. Everybody knows…that he fucks you.
『Geralt of Rivia 』
Late Bloomer
Geralt of Rivia saves you from more than just a werewolf attack. {alpha!Geralt}
『Sherlock Holmes 』
『Peter Ballard 』
My Lucifer Is Lonely
Peter is your comfort within these cold and sterile walls, and when they come crumbling down, they reveal the nightmare that lies inside.
『Walter DeVille』
Midnight Delights
So many maids have come and gone, but you seem to be the master’s favorite.
My Soul To Take
The search for your missing sister puts you right at Carfax Estate and in the clutches of the lord of the manor.
『Lucifer Morningstar 』
Promised
When you start waking up with bruises you can’t explain, your nightmares turn into a reality.
『Michael Gray 』
Gangsta’s Paradise
An agreement with the Peaky Blinders is almost a done deal...until you catch the eye of Michael Gray. You’re suddenly thrust into the equation, and your father must decide between losing everything or losing you.
『Steve Kemp 』
Sweet Tooth
The Kemps have always struck you as a little weird, but as their babysitter, you figured they didn’t pay you enough to make that your business.
『Damon Salvatore 』
Like Mother, Like Daughter
You never imagined that you would find solace in the bloodstained hands of a murderer.
Haunted
If you’d known that your ex-boyfriend was a vampire, you would’ve gotten a stake instead of a restraining order.
『Roman Godfrey』
Bite Marks & Bruises
Roman Godfrey is spoiled and arrogant and rude…and he gets whatever he wants.
『Stephen Bonnet 』
Bejeweled
Your journey to America is turned on its head when the captain of the ship wants both your mistress’ jewels…and her handmaiden, snatching both in a single night.
『Dune 』
There Will Be Blood
Knowing that you are too afraid to ever find yourself alone with the Harkonnen heir, Lady Margot secures his heart’s desire for his celebration day.
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『Chris Evans 』
None of Your Concern
     ➥ Where you and Chris aren’t on the same page
     ➥ Where tensions increase
『Geralt of Rivia 』
Late Bloomer
   ➥  Character POV
『Michael Gray 』
Gangsta’s Paradise
     ➥ Character POV
     ➥ Where Michael has a close call
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skyfall8600 · 2 years
Text
First Mother’s Day
Masterlist
Requested by @borhapgirlforlife19
Pair: Dad!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader (fluff)
Mother’s day was never a day Eddie cared about. With how things turned out with his own mother, he absolutely despides the day. Every year when it came around, all the teachers in elementary school remind the students that a Mother had unconditional love for their children…. Which was utter bullcrap to young Edward Munson.
But he wasn’t a little boy anymore. And he had you. From the minute you officially became his, he understood what it was liked to be loved wholeheartedly. Nothing prepared him for the day your little girl was born, it was only then that he understand what ‘Unconditional love’ meant.
In the late hours of the night, as he held her trying to sooth her screams to give you some time to sleep, he was frustrated and tired yes, but he loved her more than anything in world. He couldn’t understand how his mother could have just tossed him aside like trash; when in reality he would make the whole world burn to the ground if it meant giving his little princess a safe place to sleep.
He adored watching how you were with her. How delicately your voice became whenever you held her in your arms. You loved her with every fibre of your body and it definitely showed.
That’s why when that one day a year came around sooner than he expected, he knew that he had to make it special just for you. That for once in his life he had someone to celebrate it for.
His plan started to form three weeks before the big day. He organised with your work to give you a secret day off; meaning that it still looked like you were on the roster but they already got someone ready to cover for you.
He practiced the meal he planned to make. Somehow burning it with every try. He called up Steve and Nancy begging for their help in teaching him how to make an edible meal. After a few private sessions from them, he produced an exquisite main meal and dessert by heart. Although, don’t ask him to cook anything else because he only perfected those two recipes.
On the days you had to work late, he tried his best to be quick and not make much mess. Your daughter on the other hand hated the activity. She cried as Eddie stuck her hands and feet into the paint and squished them against the pieces of paper.
“I know I know. Shhh. Just one more - Ah ha! All done princess, that’s my good little girl. Mummy’s going to love it.” He said, cleaning her up and proud of himself that no paint made its way onto any of her clothes.
By the time the big day came, you had no idea Eddie had planned anything. Before you got pregnant you made an agreement with him that silly days like Mother’s Day and Father’s Day held no value in actually showing how much you loved your little family. You knew of Eddie’s sadness with those two days and you were more than happy to do without them. He showed you every day how much your little family meant to him.
You got up and proceeded to get your uniform on. You kissed your daughter's head goodbye and you were about to do the same to Eddie until you caught his wicked smile.
“Happy First Mother’s Day.” He said, practically whispering it against your lips as he kissed you.
You laughed as you thanked him, slowly pulling back for the kiss but he didn’t let you go. “Eddie, I gotta get to work.”
“Actually you don’t.”
You raised an eyebrow as you looked up at him. As if right on cue, your boss sends you a message saying to enjoy your big day. “I don’t understand-“
“It’s your first ever Mother’s Day. I know we promised not to do anything but I had to. I just had to. The way you are with her, you’re a natural at it. You love the both of us so much and we think you’re the best thing in the world. So I spoke to Nadine and got your shift covered. I’ve got the whole day planned.”
You were tearing up at his words.
“But first, little missy here made you a special card!” He was beaming with so much joy. Picking up your daughter and the messy colorful card full of paint, glitter and bad handwriting.
You laughed seeing it, just imagining how much of a struggle it was to get her to corporate.
“Now she was a bit cheap so that’s all you get from her. But this, this is from me. To show you how much I love you being the mother of my child.”
He gifted you a small velvet box. “Eddie, I swear to god if this is really expensive and you just made me lose a shift I’m gonna kill you.”
“Nonsense sweetheart, I just made a small adjustment to something you already had.”
Inside was a necklace your mother had gifted to you when you were young. It originally had a small heart with your birthday engraved on it. But now, an additional heart was added to the chain and contained the birthday of your daughter.
You lost it. You became a crying mess and hugged him tightly. “It’s beautiful!”
You kissed him passionately, tasting the salt from your tears and faint residue from his toothpaste.
“Come on, I got the whole day planned. Next up, I got you a day at the spa and you’ll be with Nancy. By the time you come back, dinner will be ready and the house will be spotless. So you can relax for the rest of the night and just cuddle on the couch with our little princess.”
You laughed, “And with you too I hope.”
“Oh absolutely, I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”
Eddie Munson Taglist
@fentyreligion @littlelunarfox @coconutchumby @eempxth @superflannel @fluffycookies22 @yearwalker96 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @grungegrrrl @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @dixontardis  @santaatemypuppy @nchl18 @tomshelbystits @musicmoviestv @bratckerman @dani-d0rk
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ultralightpoe · 28 days
Text
Pinky Promises - Chapter Two
Authors Note: Another Part in the series is up, I am very excited for their story.
Word Count: 8532
x Series Masterlist x
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x Prev Chapter x
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October 13th, 1977 - Thursday 
“Both of you need to be on your best behavior.” Charlotte Fraser warns, watching as the two children in front of her give each other wide smiles that she knows firsthand will only cause trouble. “You hear me?” 
They nod, staring blankly back at her before turning to each other and giving that same smile once more. Before she can call them on it another figure emerges in the kitchen, limping slightly as she laughs at the scene before her. 
“Lottie, dear. They are just getting ready for the day. Take it easy on them.” Nana defends, coming to kiss her granddaughter's head lightly. “Are we doing pancakes for the birthday girl then?” 
Everyone blinks, and Steve watches as Lottie tries coming up with an answer to her mothers question. But Ollie is quick to beat them too it. 
“We already ate breakfast Nana. I wanted you to sleep because you stayed up late making my dress.” She smiles, spinning to show her the work she had done. “Thank you so much by the way.” 
Nana blinks, looking at the clock before realizing what time it is and nodding slowly. “Right. I must have overslept. Silly me. Alright. Let me say goodbye at least.” 
She kisses Ollie’s head, and then kisses Steves before limping off to find where Wiley ran off to in an effort to flee from his father and school. The second she turns the corner Lottie bends down to fix Ollie’s dress a bit and wipe some of the hair out of her daughter's hair. “You’re such a pretty birthday girl. Let’s get you to school.” 
Steve watches in silence as Ollie runs to grab her backpack and Charlotte wipes the tears before everyone is being ushered out the door. 
“I have your gift.” He mumbles to Ollie on the way to the car. “I’m giving it to you later.” 
“Are you going to have dinner over here tonight?” 
“My mom is going out with an old friend so yeah. That and I want to come celebrate your birthday.” 
“I know.” She smiles, leaning to hug him. “You’re my best friend.” 
“You're my best friend.” He sighs, hugging her back, nerves filling his body. 
October 13th, 1983 - Thursday 
“I am so irritated with you right now I can’t even begin to describe it.” Cece snaps, her hand slamming into the locker next to the one Via currently stood in front of, shuffling through to find her lighter as her friend went on a rant. “It’s not even worth arguing over.” 
“Good because-“ 
“You know what? I changed my mind. It is worth arguing over because how dare you? How. Dare. You.” The brunette seethes, eyes narrowing as Via’s fingers finally wrap around the lighter and drag it out from the abyss of a locker. “I’ve been your best friend for how many years now?” 
“4 I believe. Might be 5.” 
“And this is the treatment I get?” 
“Okay, let me get this straight. You’re mad at me because I accepted a shift tonight? I need money and Thursday nights are the best since it’s just a bunch of middle schoolers and their parents.” Via mumbles, exhaustion coating her every movement. It had been a rough couple nights, spent unable to sleep and so she crammed herself in that tiny desk and tried drawing or painting until she got tired enough to pass out at the desk until her father woke her up for school. All. Week. 
“It’s your birthday, Olivia.” A couple people turn their heads to them at the tone which makes Via panic and shush her. 
“Not so loud. Alaska can probably hear you.” They glare at each other for a moment, both unwilling to give up on their stances. 
Finally, with a growl of frustration, Cece stomps her heel into the ground. “We should be celebrating tonight Via.” 
“I need to work.” Via huffs, rolling her shoulders to release some of the tension that had built up. “Besides, Hartson wasn’t really offering it. It was more of a ‘I need this shift covered so do it’. And so I agreed.”
“He can’t do that. That’s not legal is it? He can’t do that.” 
“I’m not sure but it’s already been done so who cares-“ Before she can finish her sentence a body shoves into her, wrapping her in a hug that sends them both careening into the lockers by them. 
“Gareth.” It’s a warning enough, but the brown haired boy doesn’t listen to Eddie and continues hugging Via with a big smile. 
“You smell like fish.” She scoffs, trying to push him away. 
“It’s my new deodorant. I call it sweat.” The fool smiles, lifting his armpit for her to smell which leads to her gasping and pushing him harshly. In their little scuffle they both accidently push into another figure that had been at her locker. 
A soft grunt of pain could be heard as Barb dropped the books she was holding, making the group in front of her stop quickly. 
“I’m sorry.” Gareth blushes, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as Barb nods, doing her best not to make eye contact. 
Relatively Barb and the group before her sat at the same rank on the food chain of this school, barely making it by with Tommy Hagan. And yet their groups sat on opposite sides. 
Via and her friends were considered ‘burnouts’ whilst Barb was considered….a ‘goody two shoes’ not that there was anything wrong with that. But it’s safe to say they all normally avoided each other. 
“We didn’t mean to do that.” Via confirms, bending down to grab the books for her as the redhead keeps nodding. 
“No it was me. I was in the way.” Barb tries a laugh, grabbing the books back from Vias outstretched hand slowly. 
“Hey I saw you in the hall the other day while I was ditching. You told the teacher the wrong way when they asked where I went.” Eddie smiles, and Via watches in real time as her cousin does what he does best. Break tension and make people feel comfortable. “That was totally cool. You rock for that.” 
Barb's face turns a deep red as she ducks her head a bit, fighting off a smile. “Oh that was nothing.” 
“And that top is extremely cute.” Cece smiles, reaching forward to feel one of the ruffles between her fingers. “Have you ever seen Vogue magazine? It’s got a top that looks a lot like this-“
“I just got it from my moms closet if I’m being honest.” Barb admits. “It’s hard finding sweaters that fit me sometimes.” 
“Oh here we go.” Eddie rolls his eyes, watching Cece’s face light up with excitement as Gareth groans out when she shoves him out of the way to get closer to Barb. 
“I can make you something out of any sweaters you don’t like anymore. I actually think you would look so good in-“ As she starts going on and on Gareth groans again and Eddie reaches out to shove him and give him a death glare as Via shuffles to make her escape. 
She normally waits until her free period to sneak out and smoke near the track field, it was the perfect time of day to do so. No student or teacher traffic, she didn’t have to worry about missing class and got the perfect amount of silence to work in her sketchbook. Not that she needed silence, she just liked letting her thoughts run free without anyone near. 
She would miss math class, and her dad won’t like that call when he gets it later but she’ll say she wasn’t feeling well and lie about going to the nurse. It was her birthday after all. So she takes a sharp breath in and walks through the halls while patting her jacket to make sure she had everything she needed before taking the side exit out of the school and heading to the weird alley left between the gym building and the main building. 
The gravel digs into her legs as she sits on the ground, shuffling around to get comfortable as best she could before dragging out her sketchbook and lighting a cigarette as she begins working. 
Via liked to follow her instincts when it came to art, she trusted her imagination more than anything else, and it had never really caused a problem before. If a project wasn’t working then she moved on to the next. 
But this one had been killing her, and she had no clue why. 
It was a rough sketch, shadowed figures all huddled in the forest. There were four young boys, and Via kept seeing images of her brother flash in her mind as she detailed them out before she finally gave up and focused on the fifth figure but that was the thing that caught her the most. 
She couldn’t tell if she had been drawing a boy or a girl, the images flashing in her mind were always hazy and undistinguished and yet it was so clear. The hospital gown that reached their knees, torn a bit on the right. The hair cut short, a sort of buzzcut that reminded her of Eddie back when he was in middle school. The nose was bleeding, but there was something on the wrist that she could never make out. A tattoo of sorts that-
“Are you smoking?!” An angry voice snaps her attention quickly, she had been so involved in the sketch that she didn’t even hear the person exit the gym, a soft curse falling from her lips as panic claims her, making her drop the cigarette to the ground desperate to stomp it out until she sees Steve there with his hands on his hips. “Really, Ollie?!”
“Someone needs to put a bell on you.” She snaps, her skin flush with heat as she tries to glare at him while he shakes his head gently. His face is puckered between amusement and shock, his eyes bright with something that makes Via nervous. “What? You going to run and snitch on me now?”
“First you shoplift-”
“So did you.”
“And now you’re smoking on school property. What? You buy eyeliner and suddenly feel like a bad girl?” His tone is teasing, but Via stays on edge. Teasing probably means his friends were soon to follow and she would become the butt of the joke. 
She had to get out of here. Her eyes narrow in on his slow shuffling, like he was trying to move closer without her knowing. His shoulders tense and he is messing with the white towel balled up between his hands as he begins looking everywhere but her. 
Without another thought she grabs the handle to her bag, keeping her sketchbook gripped in her hand as she gets ready to jump up and scram. 
“Don’t you know those cause cancer?” He asks after an awkward moment of silence passes, laughing a little under his breath. She goes rigid, turning to glare at him rather than her exit. 
“So does your hairspray, you don’t hear me raggin on ya.” 
“My hairspray does not cause cancer.” He argues, eyes snapping to hers. “It is completely safe to use-”
“That’s such a lie, Harrington.” His face falls slightly at the last name, blinking as he nods. “What? I offend your hair?”
“I just can’t get used to my last name.” He admits, shrugging a bit. 
“You’ve had it since you were born.” 
“Yeah but you never used it.” And the silence that follows that sentence is deafening, it settles between them like a wall and Steve inhales quickly. “I just figured you would be the most cautious about cancer and-”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snaps, sitting up quickly as his eyes widen in fear. 
“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything-”
“You really want to bring up my nana, you little shit?!” 
“I’m a little shit?! You’re a little gremlin!”
“Oh I’m a gremlin now?! Listen here you half baked ken doll, you are the most annoying person on this earth. You walk into a room and your ego sucks out all the air in it!” She stands to be at his height, the sketchpad dropping from her hand. 
He’s quick to snatch it up, when she moves to snatch it back he turns his back to her and keeps it away. “If I’m a half baked Ken doll then you're a metal melted barbie.”
“Give it back Harrington.” She seethes, trying to jump over him to grab the book. Doing so she wraps her arms around him and just hangs from his back as he laughs. Dropping the white towel to reach his free hand up to hold her arm there so she doesn’t fall from his back. She reaches out once more, face heating as she catches a whiff of his overly priced cologne. 
“Jesus, Ollie…via. This is really good.”
“Yeah, right. Okay.” She rolls her eyes, diving for the book once more. He slips a bit, and they both panic. She wraps her legs around him to stop from falling and he catches himself on the wall. 
“Your dad said not to koala me!” He gasps, still gripping her arm to keep her up. “This isn’t fair.”
“Give me the book then!” “No!”
“Yes!” “I just wanna see it!” 
“You are such a pain in the ass-”
“Who is the girl?” He asks before gasping for air a bit when her arm tightens around his neck as she begins sliding off. “Ollie-”
The strangled sound of his voice makes her let her legs to, moving to unravel her arms from his neck, too focused on what he said about the sketch to care about grabbing the book back. He keeps a hold on her arm though, and a part of her feels like he just wanted to keep her near him while the other part of her knows he’s getting ready to block her again. 
“Girl? What makes you think it’s a girl?”
“The eyebrows? A random feeling? How am I supposed to know? You’re the artist.” He scoffs, keeping a hold on her elbow as he pulls the book closer to himself. “Is that…that’s Wiley right?” 
“I…. don’t know.” She blinks, suddenly feeling way too exposed and snatching the book finally. “Just get on with the mocking already-”
“I’m not here to mock you-”
“Here, I’ll even get it started for you. ‘What are you doing in the alley you freak?’ or ‘It’s creepy to draw people you stalker’ or-”
“Can I have a cigarette?” He interrupts her, wiping his palms on his shirt as his eyebrows pinch together, a look of pain passing across his face so fast that she thinks she must have imagined it. 
“And then I say something like ‘why don’t you go make out with a mirror you narcissist?’ and-”
“Olivia, can I please have a cigarette? Please?” He tilts his head, holding out a hand as she rolls her own eyes and reaches into her pocket to grab one for him. She freezes halfway through, blinking up at him with suspicion which makes him smile slightly. “I’m not trapping you to snitch.”
“Fine.” She pulls out the box and opens it to him, he is quick to snatch one, their fingers brushing together a bit which makes her pull her hand back quickly with a sneer, the heat from his touch rising up her arm and somehow sending chills down her spine. 
“How bout a light?” He asks with it between his lips, hands on his hips as she pulls out her lighter and tries to hand it to him. After a moment of standing there she realizes he won’t grab it so with a huff she flicks it on and leans to light it for him. He shrugs and leans his head forward so she can light it while it’s still between his lips. A cocky smile spreads across his features. . “Remember when we used to talk about stealing our first cigarette from your dad when you hit high school?”
“No. I don’t.” 
“Liar.”
“Jackass.” Her words were supposed to piss him off, and she gets aggravated and annoyed when it seems to have the exact opposite reaction and instead drags a smile onto his face. 
She didn’t understand why he was even bothering to bring it up, it obviously never happened. Whispering their plans of sharing their first cigarette and first drink had been useless. He had started his freshman year without her and somewhere along the way she had completely been dropped from his life. 
Eddie’s warnings from middle school are still right there in her ear as she watches him now. 
“I know you both are close but…. He’s not the person you think he is you know? He hurts people. You’re not like that.” 
She hadn’t understood then, hadn’t been able to process that her very best friend in the world was a bully. But the second she moved up to the same school as him once more it all made sense. And the betrayal of finding out who he really was hurt like a bitch. 
The apologies she had to give Eddie for not believing him tore at her chest. 
As if he knows what she is thinking while she stares he awkwardly clears his throat before taking a drag from the cigarette and shuffling to find a spot. 
After a few moments he leans against the brick wall, trying to seem relaxed as he smokes while she shuffles to the opposite wall, moving to pick up her bag and toss all her supplies in. The sketch pad is thrown in, and she fights a cringe when the pages bend against the other books but she’s too interested in getting the hell out of here. 
“What are you doing today?” He asks after yet another minute of silence, his voice a little cracked, almost as if he was desperate to keep the conversation going before she could escape. Alarm rings through her, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to reveal what he actually needed. 
“Oh just the usual, plotting your murder and then robbing a bank after school.” She scoffs, trying to fix the hair that had fallen out of her bun when she attacked him earlier.  “Any requests? I’m partial to the throwing you down a well idea but I would also be willing to set you on fire.”
“Oh. Interesting. I think I’m gonna go with Plan B.” He smiles, shuffling closer once more and she finds herself trying to find something to say that would piss him off. Anything that might shred his heart the way he shredded hers, but the words get caught on her tongue whenever she thinks of something close.  “Seriously, what are the big plans tonight? For Ollie’s birthday extraordinaire?”
There’s a bite to the words, and she tries not to scoff at it, noting the small tinge of jealousy. 
“I have work. And I already told you not to call me that. ” She admits, shrugging a bit. Torn between dashing away and or staying near him. Why was it so hard to leave? She hates him. 
“You work at the theater, right?”
“Yes? How did you know that?” 
“I’ve seen you there. Not in a stalkerish way but like- you work the snack counter. Why are you working on your birthday? That is the biggest sin known to man. Especially in your family.” 
“I…..” For a second the words almost tumble out, desperate to finally rant to someone about the situation. For a second it’s not Harrington and Via, rather than Ollie and Stevie and she feels the emotions hit her chest as she breathes in air for what feels like the first time in forever. 
She wants to tell him that she hasn’t celebrated her birthday without her Nana before, and explain that her family had no money to do a warm dinner or cake so what was the point of making them feel guilty? It wasn’t worth it anyways considering she wasn’t anything to celebrate over. 
For a second she almost slips and admits her sad thoughts to the longest friend she ever had. 
But his laughing face appears in her memory next, and she could just about vomit all over the gravel beneath them as it engraves itself there in the forefront of it all. 
This was not how it used to be, and she needed to remember that. 
It finally made sense why he was out here, he was looking for things to throw at her. Looking to trick her into talking to him so he would have fresh material. 
“Why am I wasting time talking to you?” She scoffs. “You’ll just throw it back in my face the first chance you get. Fuck off Harrington.”
She storms off after that, and she should have felt victorious because she got to tell Steve to fuck off. But she didn’t, she only felt lame and hurt. 
And the worst part was she knew exactly what to say to hurt him in the way he had hurt her, but she didn’t have the guts to do so. 
She was pathetic. 
October 13th, 1977 
Ollie’s birthday dinner was spent with her family, just as it always was, elbow to elbow as they poured over the meal before them. 
Nana, who sat at the head of the table, was recounting her trip at the store earlier to the little ones who had been in school, watching their faces as they listened intently. 
“And the damn price of corn went up again. By the time you bunch are grown it’s gonna be damn near 5 dollars for one stock of it.” She grunts out, rolling her eyes gently. “You better become rich.” 
“I am!” Wiley yells, raising his hand. “I’m gonna go to space!” 
“Ollie is going to be a famous painter.” Stevie smiles, leaning forward. “She’s gonna be in a museum one day.” 
“No I’m not!” Ollie laughs, shaking her head at her friend as he turns to her shocked. “They only put the really good ones in those museums. There is no way I make it.” 
“They have to! I’ll make them!” Stevie snaps, his face thrown into one of disbelief. 
“How are you going to make them?” The adults can do nothing but watch as the two turn to face each other, all aware just how this process goes with them. 
“I’ll….. I’ll….. break their kneecaps!” Stevie rushes out, face growing red as Ollie gapes at him. 
“You’re going to break their kneecaps to get my work in a museum?” She asks, her face melting into one of giddiness as Steve nods aggressively. 
“I’ll break the museum's kneecaps. No question.” He confirms and his best friend shoves forward to hug him tightly. “Who even works at a museum anyways?” 
“I have no clue. But they better watch themselves.” Ollie giggles with her arms still wrapped around Steve. 
“I pray for them.” Flip mutters, shaking his head at the two kids. “I pray for anyone who bothers you two.” 
“Do you believe in god?” Wiley blurts out, fully staring his father down. 
“Eat your mashed potatoes, Wye.” Flip grunts, going red in the face himself at his youngest son's attention, flustered. 
-
October 13th, 1983 - Thursday. 
Standing outside Hawkins Theater, Steve Harrington shuffled about on his feet awkwardly with his hands in his pockets debating whether he should be here or not. 
He knew, deep down, that this was a bad idea. Like pouring gasoline on himself and then lighting a match. And yet he stood there, wanting nothing more than to light the match. 
It was an addiction, he was sure of it, having to be near Ollie. One that he had managed to avoid so well, until that night at the Mini Mart gave him a taste again and he found himself looking for her throughout the day. 
It made sense, this was his best friend at one point. He used to spend nights at her house and eat with her family. This was the person who taught him to ride a bike and dared him to eat a worm. It’s only natural to miss her….. right? 
He messed it up earlier, he moved too fast and asked too many questions. He made her paranoid, and that was on him. This time he would be more careful, ease into the conversation. He would-
Jesus when did Ollie go from his best friend to talking about her like she’s a scared kitten in an alley?
This was a bad idea, he knows this, the sinking feeling in his gut making him turn to walk away. He’d go to the store and get something for dinner and forget all about this. Go back to the way it was, completely ignoring her existence. 
But her face flashes in his mind and he finds himself turning right back around and facing the theater. It was her birthday. He missed it last year, an away game for basketball, and even if he was in Hawkins he didn’t know what he would have done for her. 
And the year before that had been the year when Cece emerged, the girl hating him through and through. He remembered her narrowed eyes as he carried the painting set to the house, the look of distrust. 
He had gotten to watch from the sidelines last year just how close Cece was to Via, a firm layer of annoyance lacing his mind every time he saw them hanging out. Steve liked to blame Cece on Via's new look, the new shorts and dark colors. The chopped and bleached hair. Via looked completely different than what he was used to. 
And it wasn’t bad, she was still beautiful, always had been. Even he could admit that as her best friend. But it was a shock to the system seeing her now. The first day of school this year he had kept an eye out for long brown hair and one of Nana's signature creations. 
He had not known what to do with the new Via, or how to stop his heart from racing through his chest when she walked by with her middle finger pointed at his group. 
But that didn’t matter, he had spent the year avoiding her, and had missed her birthday. 
“Come on Harrington. Just get it together.” He mutters to himself, wiping the sweat from his palms down the front of his jacket before hopping on his feet a bit to hype himself up before he finally makes his way to the ticket booth. 
“What can I do for you?” The kid sitting in the booth huffs, staring at Steve like he was crazy. 
“Oh um. My friend is working. Can I just come in? I don’t really need a ticket.” He explains, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. 
“Can’t get in without a ticket.” 
“Okay. Fine. Just a ticket to a movie then.” Steve rushes out, grabbing his wallet and paying for the ticket before he heads into the building and takes a deep breath in. 
The smell of buttered popcorn fills the air, the red decorations around mixed with the maroon carpet and warm lighting making everything about this place feel so welcoming. It almost manages to ease all his anxiety as he shuffles to the snack counter, wiping his palms one more time as her voice fills the air. 
“Just this today Miles?” She asks, even though she is already grabbing the money like she already knows it will be. The taller figure nods quickly, grabbing his snack and turning to walk away. 
He makes quick eye contact with Steve before he whirls around and bends his head in thanks and blurts out a fast. “Thank you Ms. Olivia.” 
With that he walks away, back ramrod straight and not making eye contact with anyone as he passes. And while Steve was busy watching him walk away he completely forgot that Ollie could see him. 
“What are you doing?” She snaps out and he whirls to meet her eyes quickly, suddenly feeling insane. 
“I’m….. here to see a movie.” He lies, stepping forward until his fingers touch the counter. “Obviously.” 
She blinks up at him, her lips shut in a thin line. “Then go see your movie.” 
“Well I need snacks.” He smiles, pointing behind her at all the snacks displayed on the shelves and the large popcorn display. “What do you recommend?” 
“Popcorn.” She keeps her face bland, it makes his chest tighten as he panics for ways to make her smile. 
“That guy before me was a little weird, huh?” 
“Miles is really nice.” She rushes out, standing to grab a bucket and fill it with popcorn quickly. “He comes every Thursday for that Star Wars movie. And he always says thank you. So leave him alone.” 
“Right. Got it.” He rushes out, nodding a little too much as he tries to come off relaxed. “So…. Nice hat.” 
Her work uniform was a yellow button up with a red tie, and Steve was a bit frustrated by the fact that she actually managed to make it look good. With bracelets stacked on her arm and black nail polish. But the thing that caught his attention was the birthday hat on her head. Blue with the words ‘happy birthday’ printed all over it but it printed wrong so it mostly said happy with only about 3 birthdays. And there was so much color on the hat that he had to blink to focus. 
“My manager gave it to me. Get your jokes out now.” She snaps, slamming the bucket on the counter. “And my ears were cold because they blast the ac so people don’t fall asleep.”
“People fall asleep a lot?” 
“More often than not.” She hits the buttons on the register before looking at him with a raised brow. “Anything else?” 
“A drink. Please.” Anything to stay here a little longer. 
“What are you seeing anyways?” She asks and he struggles to pull the ticket out of his pocket to see. 
“The… last Jedi?” 
“Oh fun! You should sit by Miles.” She smiles, pointing to the soda machine and waiting for him to answer what he wants. 
“Coke please.” 
“The theater is almost always empty now. That movie came out in like May and we were packed back then for weeks and now it’s just Miles.” She explains, filling the cup. “He comes every Thursday. He used to come with his brother but I haven’t seen George in a minute. I think he got married and moved to Nebraska.” 
Her voice holds a dreamy tone in the end, one that he catches a little too quickly. 
“You want to move to Nebraska?” 
“Not specifically. I’d like to move one day though.” She snaps the lid on the drink, coming back over to set it down, she’s close enough that he can smell the perfume she wore. It wasn’t too flowery or strong. Just a nice sage smell that had him at ease. 
“Why would you want to leave Hawkins?” 
“It’s…. Hawkins. Who wouldn’t I?” She laughs, slamming the buttons on the register once more before the total pops up. He pulls the cash from his wallet and sets it down gently. 
“I like it here.” He mumbles, shrugging a bit. He always thought she liked it here too. 
“It’s different when you’re the king.” She snaps a little, and he registers that wall building back up before his very own eyes. He had to switch the topic. 
“Where were you from originally? Denver?” 
“Yup. But my parents were from here.” 
“I remember. Your mom got accepted into college out there? Right? She studied… history?”  And Flip had followed her. From what Steve could remember of their story Flip had graduated a year before Lottie and he got a contracting job here in Hawkins. When Lottie left for Denver he stayed for a bit before he moved out there to be with her. He got a job with a construction company out there and they lived in a small one bedroom apartment when they got pregnant with Ollie. 
Lottie had been 18 and in college but the way his mothers friends talk about it makes it sound like she had gotten pregnant in high school. And as a kid he never understood the big issue, and now that he can do basic math he knows that his own mother had gotten pregnant senior year. 
She would never admit to that, too busy harping on everyone else. 
“She studied history and artifacts.” Ollie answers, seeming to be a little more at ease. “But right now she’s working as a temp in a legal aid office.” 
“Really? Wow.” His fingers tap against the counter as excitement courses through him. “How’s Wiley?” 
“Good.” That answer comes out clipped and he sees red flags in his vision. 
“Right. Well if you could tell him hi-“
“You’re gonna miss your movie.” She mumbles, pushing the popcorn and drink forward. “Wouldn’t want that.” 
“Right. The movie….. that I came here to see.” He nods, picking both of the containers up and moving to leave before turning back once more. “They are playing trailers though. I don’t mind missing those. What was that thing you were drawing earlier?” 
“I’m not sure. It just kinda…. I don’t know.” She answers truthfully. 
“Have you seen those murals all around? Of the famous people?” He asks, leaning against the counter easily. “There was one recently of Marilyn Monroe. It was really cool.” 
“Yeah I’ve seen them. My parents keep an eye on the paper for articles about the tagger.” She shrugs, cheeks turning red. 
“It’s not tagging though….. technically.” 
“Its not?” 
“Tagging is like…. Graffiti. The paintings are nothing like graffiti. They are really good. They are murals.” He explains, feeling proud of the fact that he is getting her to smile a bit. Truth was he had studied different art topics all week knowing she would be interested in them. Art was her weakness. “And I think whoever is doing them knows that. They hit popular spots when they are mad, like the store. But most of them are for fun.” 
“Who would think spending hours outside in the cold weather painting a wall would be fun?” 
“People with something to say. I would if I had any talent. And I know for a fact you would if you knew how to paint faces.” He smiles and her head tilts a bit which makes his heart speed up. 
“Who says I can’t paint faces?” 
“You always struggled with it growing up. Remember that one you did of…. Oh what was his name? You know with the-“ his hands puff out around his head in attempt to show poofy hair. “With the- damn it. You obsessed over him.” 
“Bob ross. And I didn’t obsess I just…. Liked him a little.” 
“You drew picture after picture of him. You planned a wedding.” Steve laughs. 
“I did not! I planned a proposal. You called me a donkey before I could start planning the wedding.” She huffs, her cheeks bright red. “And yes. I struggle with drawing eyes.” 
“Struggle? Struggle?! You can’t do it period. He looked like a lizard. One eye staring at me and the other trying to find the lost treasure of Atlantis.” He laughs, trying to cross his eyes the same way that drawing had. 
“Ohhhh you wanna talk about drawing. Let’s talk about-“ 
“Please don’t bring it up. I already know what you’re going to say.” He huffs. 
“The family portrait! The one you drew with nanas colored pencils of all of us. But it was just stick figures, and you overdrew dads and it looked like-“ 
“I didn’t mean to give your dads stick figure a dick! I didn’t mean to do it!” He laughs, rubbing his eyes as he remembers that drawing. “It wasn’t my intent.” 
“And you gave Wiley a unibrow.”
“The kid always had his face scrunched in confusion at the time! It looked like one eyebrow every time I saw him!” He tries to explain. “I’ve never seen a baby more confused.” 
“He was always so confused! And so curious! Every time you came over he stared at you like you were some ancient mystery!” She laughs loudly, snorting a bit. “Remember the day you tried making him laugh and got mashed potatoes up your nose?” 
“Oh my god! And then when I laughed it hit his face!” Steve cackles, bending over to try and catch his breath. 
“You scarred him. I swear. That’s why he’s always so nervous now.” 
“Always on the lookout for nose mash now.” He chuckles. “That was your 10th birthday. Right?” 
“I think so, Wiley got so mad that he refused to let me blow out the candles.” She remembers with a laugh, before the sound of blasters fills the air. “I think your movie is starting-“ 
“HARRINGTON!” The voice sounds out from the doors, drawing both their attention to the doors as a couple of the boys from the basketball team show up. “What are you doing here?” 
“W-watching a movie.” Steve rushes out. 
“Nice man.” Nicky laughs, shoving past him. “Nice hat.” 
His tone is sarcastic and the bitter laugh that falls from his lips makes Steve tense. 
“Thanks.” Ollie sneers. “What can I get you?” 
The next couple minutes pass way too slowly, the snarky comments from the boys as Ollie gets their snacks. He laughs, of course he laughs every time they make a comment because he is a coward. Always has been. 
Ollie knew that. And judging by the look she gives him as he is dragged off by his friends he knows she’s remembered why. 
All that work he did over the past 30 minutes ruined. 
October 13th, 1977 - Thursday 
Wiley gets cranky halfway through the dinner and he begins staring at his plate which makes Steve feel bad. He didn’t like when Wiley got upset. He elbows Ollie to get her attention and then leans in to whisper in her ear his plan. She nods with excitement as they both turn back. 
Wiley gives them a skeptical look, casting a brief look to Nana then back to them. Steve scoops up a bunch of potatoes in his hand, rubbing it all over his face as Ollie does the same thing, both of them moaning out like zombies. 
“Me like potatoesssssss.” Stevie groans. 
“Eat brains.” Ollie groans back and Wiley starts laughing which makes the other two start laughing. But it slowly starts turning out of control, all of them laughing a little too hard. 
Then it happens, Steve snorts and a bunch of the mashed potatoes fly across the table and hit Wiley in the face. Chaos breaks out quickly. 
His face falls quickly, a scream tearing from his mouth as he swipes his face quickly, already crying for their mom. 
“I didn’t mean to!” Steve rushes out as Ollie cackles loudly, barely breathing which just makes Wiley cry more. “Ollie!” 
“I HATE YOU STEVIE!” Wiley screams, picking up a handful of mashed potatoes from the center bowl, and throwing it right at Steve only for it to hit Ollie. 
“Enough!” Lottie yelps when her daughter reaches for the same bowl. “How about some cake?” 
“No! I’m gonna kill them!” Wiley yells. 
10 minutes later as the family sings happy birthday to Ollie, Wiley keeps leaning over to blow out the candles before Ollie can, which makes Steve laugh. All three of them huddled around the cake and beginning to hit each other as the adults try to keep them all contained. 
Ollie leans forward to blow out her candles but when Flip lifts the cake to avoid Wiley’s attempts he accidentally smashes it into her face. Another wave of laughter hits all of them as her face is covered in chocolate. 
“Happy birthday Ollie,” Steve mumbles with a mouthful of cake, sliding his gift over to her. She unwraps it quickly, smiling from ear to ear when she sees the pack of colored pencils. 
“50 colors?!” She yells out, already standing. “I can’t believe it!” 
-
October 15th, 1983 - Saturday - Wiley 
“Are you serious?” Flip asks, blinking slowly at his son from his spot on the couch, trying to glue a chair back together as the sounds of Via slamming things in her room fill the air. “You’re not messing with me are you?” 
Wiley can do nothing but blink at his father, feeling nervous and excited in the same moment. 
Another thud comes from Via’s room followed by a muffled “FUCK-“ 
“Olivia! Language!” Flip huffs, shaking his head before setting the remains of the chair down and looking at his son. “Go get your shoes. I’ll get my keys.” 
Wiley dashes to go grab a pair of shoes that she shoved in his closet earlier, struggling to put them on because he was moving so quickly as he hears his dad knock on Via’s door. 
“Hey Via? I’m running your brother to the store. You need anything?” 
“No!” She snaps back, followed by another thud. She had been in a mood since her birthday, had come home and marched straight to her room. Not saying a word to and from school the next day and remaining in her room at every other moment. 
Mom said to leave her alone, telling both Wiley and his dad that it was probably girl stuff and it would all be fine. 
What Wiley didn’t admit was he snuck into her room yesterday while she ate breakfast and walked to her desk to see that she had drawn a very detailed flower with teeth on the petals and sprawled across the paper she wrote “Fuck Steve Harrington.” 
He wasn’t stupid, he knew something happened between them last year, but Wiley would ve the first to admit he missed the older teen and he missed the way things used to be. 
“Wiley! Come on let’s go!” 
He doesn’t respond, prefers not to, and rushes down the hall to meet his dad at the door with a wide smile. One Flip matches with his own excitement. 
“I’m about to drop my boy off to hang out with a friend.” He narrates, huffing a bit. “Can’t believe it.” 
Wiley’s eyes narrow at the slight diss hidden in the words, but they were also the truth so he shuffles past his dad to get to the car. 
The ride to the Hawkins comic store was long, not because of the actual ride but more so because Wiley was so excited to get there. When his dad parked the truck in front of it he hops out and meets him around the front. 
“Okay. I’m gonna head to the general store and grab your ma’s prescription. You good here?” 
A nod. 
“No talking to strangers. If you need me then come get me okay?” Another nod. Flip smiles, ruffling his hair before nodding his own head in the direction of the door. “Go knock ‘em dead kid.” 
And he makes sure Wiley gets in the building before walking down the block to the store, leaving his truck there so Wiley would have somewhere to run just in case. 
The bell to shop rings out, causing Wiley’s cheeks to heat as he shuffles inside, looking around at everything within the building. He begins to panic, what if Lucas didn’t show up? What if this was all a joke and -
“Wiley! Hey you came!” Lucas Sinclair smiles, coming around the corner with another smaller figure in tow. “Was that your dad?” 
“Y-yes-sss.” Wiley answers, hand coming up to rub his chest as a form of anxiety. He just had to remember to talk slow and breathe. It would be fine. 
“Dude he’s tall.” Lucas laughs. “Mike has a tall dad too but he doesn’t ever talk to us. His name is Ted. He’s kind of boring but your dad looks cool. I like his truck. Have you read the new Wolverine? I just found it, we can go find a spot and read it.” 
“Are you actually gonna let him speak airhead?” The smaller of the two sneers, her eyebrows pinching together in anger. “Or keep talking over him?” 
“I’m f-f-fin-ne.” Wiley smiles, moving forward to take a closer look at the comic in Lucas’ hands. 
“My parents made me bring her so she can play Pac man. Which she promised to do once we got here so scram forehead.” 
“Whatever Buck teeth.” She snaps back before heading to the pac man game while Wiley and Lucas dash to find a spot to read their comic. 
The friendship with Lucas was new. After school a couple days ago Wiley ran into him at the comic book store and at first he avoided him like he usually does. It had taken one bad play date with the wheeler kid to know that he would not belong in their group. They talked fast and often talked over each other.  He wouldn’t be able to keep up and he knew that his stutter bothered Wheeler. So he had never gone out of his way to talk to them. 
That is until Lucas saw Wiley holding a comic he was looking for and they ended up talking about marvel for a while….. Lucas talked and Wiley tried here and there. 
But he slowly realized that when he did choose to talk that Lucas was willing to wait, and he never talked over him to finish the sentence, he just waited. 
“I invited Dustin but he’s in a bit of trouble because he threw his bike in front of his garage and his mom nearly ran over it. Do you have a bike?” 
“I hav-ve my-my sist-ters old bike.” He explains, shrugging. “S-she spr-spraypaint-Ted it for me.” 
“You should ride your bike to school with us! Dustin passes my place and we normally meet at 7:40.” 
And just like that Wiley Fraser was making friends, and he barely had to talk. 
October 15th, 1983 - Saturday - Steve 
It’s not like he planned on wasting the past two days thinking about Olivia Fraser. That’s just what happened, which was embarrassing considering the fact that he spent most of Friday afternoon sitting with Nancy Wheeler at the picnic tables outside after school. 
She was cute, in that nerdy notebook way. She made him smile and all things considered she wasn’t the worst he had flirted with, that prize went to the muppet from study hall. 
But Nancy Wheeler, as pretty and smart as she was, could not compete with Ollie in his mind. Ever since that interaction at the theater he found that she coated his mind like an oil spill. 
Hey, my tire on the car looks flat; suddenly he remembers the year his bike broke and she had to help him limp home. 
He needed to study for a history exam, suddenly he thinks back to the time they were doing homework at the table and she realized that she had been misspelling her name for years. Which had led to a full blown meltdown and she decided that she would steal his last name. 
Her teacher had sent back all her work with the last name Harrington crossed off on each and every one. And Ollie learned that her name was Fraser and not Frazier. 
Over and over and over. 
But it got bad when Barb reminded him of Nana. That is what hurt his heart the most. 
It was while he and Nancy were packing up after pretending to study and the redhead had come out to take her friend home. 
It started off easy with a simple “can we stop by the craft store on the way home?” 
And Nancy had simply responded “yeah. I love that place.” 
Steve hadn’t even realized the connection, and had been partially listening when Barbs next words made him stop. “Remember that older lady that used to work there? I miss her! She owned the house on Steves street didn’t she?” 
And just like that he is seeing Nana, the very last time he saw her. So frail and tired, so ready for the end and yet still so welcoming. Suddenly he is back to being that bloodied up kid who just needed to be near them. 
“Yeah I think.” He mumbles, snatching his books. “How am I supposed to know?” 
But it clung to him, of course it did. And he was still bothered by it a day later as he pulled into the general store with a bad attitude. 
His mom would be home that Wednesday, so he just needed groceries until she got back and he figured the best time to do so would be early afternoon when the store was at its peak so he wasn’t trapped in the silent house all day. Peak hours meant he could browse the aisles without having to worry about being stopped since everyone was in a rush. 
That was until he saw Flip with a basket in hand grabbing a box from one of the shelves near him. The man still wore his classic flannel, and his mouth was set into a from as he read on the box while Steve tried to figure out what he should do. 
Say hi right? Or had Ollie told him what a dick he had become? He should just walk away and pretend he didn’t even-
“Stevie! How ya’ doing pal?” Flip smiles, coming up to shake his hand. “It’s been way too long, bud.” 
“It’s good to see you Mr. Fraser.” He smiles awkwardly, his hand shaky in the hold of Flips. 
“Oh? Long enough to go back to the Mr. Fraser then? Or am I just that old now?” 
“No no. I just- I don’t know.” Steve laughs, moving out of the way of an older woman passing by. “It’s been awhile. I miss you guys.” 
The admission makes his skin heat up, still nervous about it all. 
“You need to come by for dinner. We haven’t had you over since we moved.” Flip mumbles, setting his basket down and pulling out a small notepad. Steve recognized it as one of the ones he used to carry around for contracting, so he could write down measurements and such. 
Taking the tiny pencil Flip sprawls something across the lines on the paper before ripping it out and handing it to the boy. 
“November 2nd we are making dinner for Lotties birthday. You should come over. That’s the address.” The man smiles, patting his back once more before heading to checkout while Steve stares at the paper in his hands with wide eyes. 
It was like a golden ticket had just been handed to him, a chance to be near the Fraser’s again and be near Ollie again. 
It was obvious he would go for dinner. The only problem was how mad Ollie was going to be when she found out.
{New Chapter out Monday}
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