#today gotta have been one of my most exhaustive and miserable days to date and its literally still 12 pm

[electricpurrs]

i think everytime im forced to spend a day with my family i should be paid $1000 usd dollars directly on my bank account

[lipstickstainz]

five times - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: A collection of the times Spencer says “I love you” without saying it, and the one time he actually does. Warnings: tooth rotting fluff Word Count: 2k, it’s a short one A/N: happy new year guys! since you wanted this to be fluffy, here it is! hope you enjoy! gif not mine.

Spencer didn't know what he had been expecting when Hotch had announced to the team that they would have young additions. He had assumed that the newcomer would be pretty serious so that he would be taken seriously, and that he would be very reserved at the beginning to get to know the team first and not offend anyone. But he definitely wasn't expecting you.

On your first day, you showed up to work in a knee-length summer dress and high Converse, which threw him off right from the start. While JJ and Emily always wore something office appropriate, you didn't seem to mind catching everyone's eye. With an infectious confidence and a big smile on your face, you introduced yourself to the others. While most of the team looked at you as if you were from another star - except for Penelope Garcia, of course, she was incredibly happy to finally know another colorful bird in the midst - Spencer liked that you stayed true to yourself. No matter what anyone else thought of you.

You went through life with an ease that was quite atypical of your profession. It almost reminded Spencer of Garcia, but only almost. You didn't have to look away when someone showed you photos of dead bodies. He sometimes caught himself worrying that the job would eventually take away your cheerfulness.

"'DO NOT TOUCH' would probably be a really unsettling thing to read in braille“, you said as you sat in the bullpen. Your desk bordered his, so Spencer only had to look up from his files to give you an amused look.

"Where did you come up with that?", he asked, a smile curling his lips.

You shrugged before looking at him. "I don't know. But it would be pretty disturbing, wouldn't it? How fortunate that it can't happen to me."

Spencer tilted his head. "Because you're not blind?"

"Because I can't read braille“, you replied with a grin, and he laughed out loud, drawing everyone's attention. Spencer smiled briefly at them and motioned for them to turn back to their work so you could continue talking undisturbed.

He leaned a little in your direction before whispering to you.

"Your head must be a wonderful place to live in."

-

It was incredibly loud and the air was too stuffy to be able to grasp a clear thought. But maybe it was just the alcohol the bartender was pouring out like Penelope had certain nicknames regarding Derek. But it also seemed to be Garcia's goal to get the entire team drunk on her birthday. She had round after round coming to your booth, repeating "one of you is dancing on the table today" several times. You were sure it would be Penelope herself. Or JJ.

You were enjoying yourself with Emily on the dance floor of the club. You were incredibly warm, which was probably 75% due to the alcohol you had already drunk. You were wearing tight jeans and a backless, loose top, and yet your skin was so hot that the clothes almost stuck to you. At first you had worried that Emily and you were too different to become friends, but one day she showed up on your doorstep after an exhausting case and stayed all night. It had bonded you together.

In a quiet moment, you looked to the others and Derek raised an arm, signaling you were ready for the next round of shots. You grabbed Emily's arm and, singing, you squeezed through the crowd toward the table.

"If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends“, you sang, and you dropped into the empty seat next to Spencer, who looked at you with amusement. "Make it last forever, friendship never eeeend“, you sang on, leaning back in Spencer's direction without touching him. When he tried to put his arm around you to pull you close, you pushed him away. "I'm sweaty and sticky, Spence. I don't think you're into that."

But Spencer reached for your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours before pulling you onto his lap. His breath brushed your face and you smelled the alcohol in it. "I don't care. I love touching you."

-

"There's a documentary about the formation of the universe and black holes in theaters tonight“, Spencer said. The team was on its way back from a case in Dallas, and while the others were resting or listening to music, you two were playing chess. Not that it was fair, but you liked the challenge and Spencer finally had someone to play with again. "I was wondering if you would like to join me. This case has been exhausting and I think we could use a distraction." He asked without looking up from the chessboard. His face turned glowing red, which you didn't notice because you were trying not to go checkmate in three moves.

You moved your queen before you looked at him. His shoulders were tense and he was breathing shallowly. Spencer bit the inside of his lower lip nervously. "I'd love to“, you smiled, and at your reply he seemed to visibly relax.

Spencer picked you up at home after you showered and got ready. You were wearing jeans and a loose sweater. Up until that point, Spencer had been sure you couldn't get any more beautiful, but when you hugged him with a sparkle in your eye and a warmth in your smile, he wasn't sure anymore.

"Origin of the universe and black holes?", you assured yourself as you stood outside the movie theater. Spencer nodded, his hands buried in his pants pockets. You smirked. "You have to promise me one thing, though."

"And that would be?", he asked as he paid for the tickets and put yours in your hand. You smiled at him.

"You have to promise me that you will tell me every one of your clever thought processes. I want to hear every comment you make, all right? Even if people around us complain."

It was the second time Spencer and you had done something together outside of work, and you enjoyed his company very much, which of course was partly because you'd had a crush on him ever since he'd once explained something to you about his case that you hadn't understood. Spencer had explained it to you as well as he could, and when you thanked him afterwards, he didn't know what hit him. No one cared about his clever anecdotes or explanations, and the fact that you had even thanked him for it made his heart beat faster. Just as it did now.

Spencer looked at you, pleased. "We're the only ones at the movies, Y/N. No one's going to complain."

"Then you can explain everything I don't understand at your leisure."

You entered the movie theater and took your seats. He handed you the packet of popcorn. "You are my partner in crime. You are my favorite person."

-

"The exhibit was very interesting“, you said as you left the museum. It hadn't been your first visit, but visiting it with Spencer was a very different experience. You liked that he had something to say about most of the exhibits. "Thank you for being here with me."

Spencer smiled down at you. "Well, actually, I asked you to go here with me. So I have to say thank you."

"But I wouldn't have been here tonight if you hadn't asked me. So, thanks for that."

Your apartment wasn't far away, and with each step you hoped the evening wouldn't end just yet. As you stood in front of your apartment complex, Spencer nervously stepped from one foot to the other. "I had a really nice evening“, he confessed.

"Me too." If you didn't want the evening to end now, you had to take the plunge. "I'd never been on a date to a museum before."

Spencer's eyes widened and for a moment you feared you had misinterpreted everything. The looks, the stories and the touches. But Spencer stopped your train of thought. "Neither have I. Well, I had been to a museum before, of course, but it had never been dates, and I'm glad I was there with you“, he babbled, blushing, which made you smile. You liked that you could read his feelings from his face. "Um, maybe we can meet again tomorrow? For dinner? If that's not too much for you?"

You didn't answer him, but put your arms around his neck and gently pulled him down to you. In his face you searched for signs that he didn't want this, and when you couldn't find any, you gently placed your lips on his.

At first he didn't return the kiss, which you attributed to his surprise. He stiffened and it took a moment for the synapses in his brain to realize what exactly was happening. You were kissing him. And you had kissed him first. When his mind started thinking again, his hands settled on your waist and he pulled you a little closer to him to deepen the kiss. When you broke away from each other, he had a gleam in his eyes.

"I recorded a short film about quantum physics that was on TV“, you whispered, opening your eyes while he kept his still closed. "If you like, you can come upstairs with me and we can watch it together."

The short movie played as background music while you sat on your couch and kissed until your lips were swollen and your lungs were gasping for air.When he broke away from you for a moment, all he could do was whisper.  "I'm addicted to you."

-

You had tried to keep your relationship a secret, and had failed miserably.

It had taken a psychopath, a hostage, and an explosion for you to fall into each other's arms and for Spencer to kiss you stormily in front of the team. His fingers dug into your skin and would surely leave bruises, but you didn't care. You had escaped the explosion by a hair and Spencer couldn't help but thank all the gods and pull you close to him as you stood in front of him.

"I thought you had been in the building“, he breathed as he gently pushed you off of him to look at you. "I thought I'd lost you."

A tear rolled down your cheek, which he wiped away with his thumb. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Spence." He pressed another kiss to your mouth before someone cleared their throat. The team stood just a few steps away from you, watching you, which was pretty embarrassing. Except for Hotch, everyone looked pleased and delighted, but you also didn't miss Hotch pressing a bill into JJ's hand.

"That's why you didn't want to go on that blind date I set you up with“, Derek grinned, putting a brotherly arm around Spencer's shoulders. "Pretty boy has a girlfriend."

Nothing ever felt so good as sharing a bed with Spencer after that day. You were half on top of him, he had his arm wrapped around you, and your legs were tangled under the covers. His fingers stroked your bare back and yours danced across his chest. He took a deep breath.

"Are you all right?", you asked, looking at him.

He swallowed. "I know we haven't been together that long and it's probably way too soon, but I almost lost you today and I can't keep it to myself any longer." Gently, he pushed you off of him and propped himself up on his elbow so he had to look down at you. "You're not just my favorite person, Y/N. You inspire me every day and you complete me in every way. You are the person I want to spend the rest of my life with." He put his hand to your cheek and you snuggled against his warm skin. "I love you, Y/N."

- tags below -

@mollygetssherlockcoffee​ / @averyhotchner​ / @ravenclawrandomness​ 

[lady-charinette]

Dinner for Two Chapter 12: The Purrfect Plan

Previously on ‘Dinner for Two’…

An idea popped into her head suddenly, “Hey, wait, I thought you found your mystery cat. Didn’t you say that professor guy was Chat Noir?”

A miserable frown marred the designer’s face and she gently hit her forehead against the table in frustration, “I’m not even sure what I found, Alya. Erik’s…alright, I guess. It’s just, he constantly makes fun of Nath and I don’t like that. He acts different than when we’re in the restaurant.”

“Maybe it’s a thing between professors? They do study in similar fields.” Alya shrugged.

Marinette huffed, “That’s what I thought too, but Nathaniel had that haunted, ‘that guy harassed me’ look about him when I mentioned his name. They really don’t get along at all.” She pushed aside her coffee and rested her chin against her propped up hands miserably, “Maybe I should drop it, maybe I was wrong about Chat, after all.”

Alya’s brow shot to her hairline, “What?! You can’t be serious, Marinette! You’ve talked about that guy for the last weeks! You’re totally smitten!”

“But what if I misjudged his character? What if he’s actually a jerk? I can’t date or like someone like that.” She pouted, looking truly conflicted. Alya hated seeing her like that.

The reporter stood up from her seat and walked around her kitchen table, wrapping an arm around her best friend reassuringly, “Hey, don’t be like that, I’m sure it’s all just a big misunderstanding.” She rubbed her cheek against Marinette’s affectionately, “Besides, my best friend doesn’t just fall for anyone, either way he’s a great guy or there is no guy at all!” she grinned and Marinette giggled, hugging Alya back.

“Thanks Alya, you always know what to say to make me more confident.” With a playful smirk, Marinette gently nudged her best friend, “By the way, Nathaniel is giving you competition, he started learning how to cheer me up too.”

Alya clenched her hand into a fist, “That punk! How dare he! Oh, he should watch his ass when I come into one of his lectures! That paperball is going straight for tomato child!”

Marinette laughed.

--

Adrien’s chemistry professor was perplexed when the part time model handed him a thick stack of papers neatly stapled together. “This is…?”

Adrien beamed, with eyebags that could go for days and suspiciously slouching feet, but beamed, “My assignment I’m supposed to hand in, professor.”

His professor did a double take, excusing himself to browse through his schedule and class list to see for when the assignment was due. “That’s in two weeks Adrien!”

The blond smiled tiredly, “Yes, I know, I wanted to hand it in sooner because I have other assignments to complete…I’m sorry did I inconvenience you?”

The taller man quickly stood, placing Adrien’s assignment on his desk and shaking his head, “No, no, that’s fine. I was just so surprised, you always hand in your work, but it’s still early and I know how busy you are.” He smiled kindly at his student, old worry lines deepening the more he noticed Adrien’s demeanor, “Are you getting enough sleep? If I remember correctly, you have another part time job to run to.”

Adrien nodded, straightening his stance. “Yes, I do, but oh sleep- yes of course, I’m getting enough sleep. Thank you.” He stumbled, shaking his head as if to clear the fog before giving a decisive nod, “I’m…working on that.”

His professor chuckled, patting Adrien’s shoulder kindly, “I know exhausted students when I see them, I know you’re well liked by the other professors, so don’t overwork yourself if you don’t hand in some assignments on time. I’m sure the colleagues would understand and give you more time if you needed, Adrien.”

The young man looked bashful, shuffling his feet before planting them firmly on the floor, adjusting his bag slung over his shoulder, “That’s alright, I can manage the rest well. I’ll be looking forward to your next lecture on analytical chemistry!”

The professor waved him off with a smile, shaking his head. “I’m glad you seem to enjoy chemistry as much as you do physics studies. Not many in the physics department do.” Adrien was certain his professor was thinking of another colleague, judging by the sour expression on his face.

Adrien waved goodbye, jogging up the steps towards the large double doors of the lecture hall. He still had time to get ready for the next lecture and grab a bite to eat.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Hey babe, aren’t you supposed to be at work already?” the sound of keys jiggling accompanied her boyfriend’s voice as Alya turned to the opposite direction they usually took to her workplace at the newspaper company.

She smiled, standing on tiptoes to plant a quick but affectionate peck on the DJ’s cheek. “Nope! I took the day off, gotta do some…investigating.” She grinned, a grin Nino learned to recognize from miles away.

It meant she was in ‘reporter’ mode and that any and all efforts to possibly stop her were futile.

With a resigned sigh, Nino pulled her closer and kissed her hair and forehead, shaking his head. “Alright, but be careful, don’t overdo it, okay?”

Alya’s grin brightened and she nodded, jogging in the opposite direction while waving. “Don’t worry!”

Nino sighed again, a longer more exhausted sigh, scratching his neck worriedly. “I always do…”

With that, he shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly made his way to the studio.

Pierre’s day had been as inconspicuous as most, and when another customer approached his desk, he was quick to grab pen and notepad and open the latest entry in the guest book.

The auburn-haired woman stopped in front of him and gave him a kind smile, but her eyes seemed to be all over the place, scanning the room, analyzing, as if searching for something.

“Hello! I didn’t make a reservation but is it possible to get a free seat?”

Pierre didn’t need to eye the guest book to answer, this lady came before rush hour, so there were many seats available. He smiled politely, “Of course mademoiselle, follow me, please.” Pierre led the woman to the nearest available seat, handing her the menu and already jotting down her order.

“Um, excuse me, may I use your unique service today?”

Pierre blinked once, before nodding. “Certainly, which one would it be?”

The glint in the woman’s eyes reminded Pierre of a fox eyeing its prey, “Is the black cat in use?”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

The smile stretching the woman’s lips reminded Pierre of a fox after a successful hunt, “Perfect,” he wasn’t sure what it was about this woman, but her inquisitive nature befuddled him.

Pierre excused himself with the promise to return with the lady’s order; a simple breakfast menu consisting of a cappuccino, orange juice, baguette with fresh fig jam, pain au chocolat, and a honeyed fruit salad.

As the waiter left, Alya took the time to look about the restaurant. It hadn’t changed much from the last time Nino and her went here a year ago, the walls had a fresh color and new chairs better fitting for the overall ambience but it stayed largely the same. She looked at the yellow tablecloth, discreetly taking out her notepad with her pen placed on her lap. As a passionate reporter, Alya never forgot conversations she had with clients, but she wanted to be safe with this one, since it seemed like Marinette was torn about knowing two contradicting sides of Chat Noir.

Speaking of the devil…

A sizeable black plush toy with large green eyes was carried by another waiter while Pierre was carrying her breakfast and Alya didn’t know what to feel more excited about, her impending interrogation or the delicious food.

Once situated opposite of her on the chair, the two waiters left with a ‘bon appetit’ on their tongues, Alya throwing back a happy word of gratitude for the food.

It wasn’t until Alya was sipping her coffee that she began the conversation before the toy could, “Alright, now listen up, I know there’s a vague humanoid person behind those fuzzy ears and I would appreciate it if you strain the human ears for me.”

There was radio silence on the toy’s part, so Alya continued, cool as a cucumber and fiery as a chili pepper, “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, sweet blue eyes and dark hair, a smile that could summon angels and cure the ill, ring any bells for you, kitty cat?”

Alya waited for an answer from the human behind the toy, slicing through her poached eggs and internally delighting in the visual beauty and the savory texture in her mouth when she took a bite.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was too early for Plagg to be awake, too early to start work, too early to even think of work. And yet, here he was, staring at Adrien’s screen in mounting horror, the image of an auburn-haired woman with glasses glaring him down with all the bitterness of a woman hellbent on revenge.

Revenge for what, Plagg didn’t know, he just wished he wasn’t in the middle of this while trying not to starve to death.

Only minutes ago, he had been pressing buttons on his computer, in his little room filled with the smell of cheese, working like a slave deprived of his most basic needs.

Pierre had graciously brought him his post breakfast, as Plagg liked to call it, something with cut meat, perhaps a vegetable or two, but most importantly cheese. A lot of melted cheese. So much cheese that Adrien’s nutritionist would’ve balked at his choice of food and promptly demanded a refund. And possibly counseling after dealing with Plagg and his unholy list of food he ate on a weekly basis.

He was working for two today, he needed all the energy he could get.

It seemed not even his meal would be enough to replace all the life that seemed to have trickled from his hands like sand when the woman began speaking to the Chat Noir toy like she was all too eager to drive that butter knife anywhere else other than her poached egg.

He was a goner.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

“No answer, huh?” Alya regarded the plushie curiously, wondering, for a brief moment, if Marinette had been telling the truth about her lengthy talks with the doll. No, of course she did, but it seemed like Chat Noir was in no mood to talk to her. She knew they had automated responses, but this one didn’t even seem to have those since all she had heard from it was silence.

Alya glanced down at her notepad, thinking of all the questions that burned at the tip of her tongue, fueled by the fierce need to protect her best friend, to get answers for all the questions Marinette had, an answer to all the confused feelings that plagued her. She deserved that, so Alya pressed on.

“I know I’m not the person you normally talk to, I don’t even know if you will talk to me today, but I’m here to get some answers for Marinette, since you weren’t here the last time she came. You have no idea how worried and confused Marinette is right now.” Alya’s tone softened, if slightly, she wasn’t sure which approach would work best to tickle answers out of the plushie, but she would try the hard and the soft way.

“So, here’s one question I have for you: the first time you met up with Marinette in a café, you talked badly of Nathaniel. Is this a rivalry thing between professors? Or are you just a jerk?”

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Plagg was debating whether to call Pierre and get the toy back, or risk suffering mental injury. He was glad this woman wasn’t able to physically reach him, he was sure he would be losing more than just his mind.

He had a hunch today wouldn’t be a normal day, it didn’t even start normally. No sooner had he arrived at work, he was being starved and had to beg Pierre to fix him a meal after breakfast. Plagg shook his head, running a hand down his face to focus on the issue at hand.

Nathaniel? Who in the world was Nathaniel? Was he someone Adrien knew? Obviously, but he knew the kid, Adrien rarely talked bad about someone and even if he did, he never did it behind their backs. Adrien talking badly about someone while on a date with a woman? Plagg doubted it.

And yet, this woman seemed to believe he did.

Plagg leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin, food temporarily forgotten. She mentioned a rivalry between professors, Adrien wasn’t even a professor, he was still a student. This must be some misunderstanding. This Nathaniel didn't seem to be a model but a professor.

Wait, met up in a café?

Plagg leaned over and checked his phone, scrolling through all the messages he exchanged with Adrien, he tried to remember if Adrien ever mentioned anything about meeting up with pigtails girl before, but nothing sprung to mind.

Was he getting old?

Adrien never mentioned that. Plagg was sure of it.

The kid would be over the moon if he had met up with Marinette in person. Adrien would’ve been a mumbling, panicking fool. He would’ve harassed Plagg about dating etiquette, not that Plagg had many, and yet he had a girlfriend. He would ask Tikki for better advice, after being fed up with Plagg of course. He would get ready two weeks beforehand, choosing which outfits and cologne to wear, how to style his hair, having pep talks with Nino over how to talk to women.

And calling Plagg in the middle of the night while the middle-aged man slept peacefully, to harass him over popular places people visited for platonic dates and if it was too old fashioned to walk her home and kiss her hand. At which point he would squeal like a girl and hang up, leaving a grumpy, confused Plagg to stare at his phone.

But none of that happened. Nothing happened.

This had to be a mistake.

Just when Plagg wanted to press the speaker button, the woman spoke again.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

After a long pregnant silence from the motionless toy, Alya clenched the material of her skirt in her hands, fists shaking in mounting rage.

“Not answering that either? You want to convince me that all those talks you two had and how she talked about you all these weeks was just an act?” Alya’s temper flared, nails now digging into the tablecloth, her poached egg momentarily forgotten.

There was static noise, as if someone was ripping paper and then a robotic-like voice sounded from the toy.

“Oh mon dieu, mademoiselle, you have quite a temper don’t you?”

Alya’s eyes narrowed, folding her hands over the other and resting her elbows on the table, “I’m all ears, cat.”

Plagg loved to dig his own grave, it even had several floors, one of which was the devil’s personal residence. Plagg was sure after this, he would have to pay his horned buddy a visit.

Should he try to channel his inner Adrien? The radiant, carefree, dreamy spirit of youth?

No, he would make things worse. Until Adrien got here, he had to set things straight for the kid’s sake.

With a deep breath, Plagg spoke.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

“What a clawsome day we have, huh? Purrty fine meowrning, right?”

Alya tapped her foot, eyeing the toy suspiciously, did it have a camera too or was it just a speaker for the voice?

“Or should I say, an eggcelent morning.”

So it had a built in camera.

Alya was mildly disturbed, with the new knowledge of a person behind this doll actually watching her eat and rage at it until now.

Gathering back her courage and anger, Alya adjusted her glasses. “Quit it with the puns, will you answer my questions or not?”

Silence followed her words, Alya thought the doll wouldn’t offer any answers she was seeking, but just a minute later, she was proven wrong.

“Sorry lady, you uh-this isn’t the cat you think you’re talking to.”

“What?” was this a bad joke? Had Marinette’s hunch been right? Was this person an impostor?

“The real owner of…uh the black cat is unavailable right now, I’m just filling in for him. But every time pigt-Miss Dupain-Cheng was here, it was the real him, trust me.”

Should she trust him? This was only a doll she was talking to, she had no way of knowing who was behind the voice, if this man was telling the truth.

Then again, she had nothing much to go on.

Crossing her arms and leaning back, Alya pondered her next movements, ire and ego sufficiently snuffed now that the man she had actually wanted to confront wasn’t even here, and she was talking to a third party.

…A third party who might just have the answers she needed.

“Hey, kitty cat.”

“What?” the voice originated from the plushie, sounding mildly grouchy.

Alya brushed the tone off, leaning forward to write in her notepad. “I have some questions I think you can answer, I’ll try to hold off on the difficult ones.”

There was another moment of silence, before the toy spoke, “…What kinda questions?”

“First, tell me if this switcheroo thing is an often occurrence and if you inform my best friend of this if it happens?” sticking her tongue out in concentration, Alya held her pen close to the paper.

The answer followed immediately. “What kind of a cat do you hold me for?! Today was the first time since he, uh Chat Noir, was busy.”

Alya scribbled the answer done, satisfied with the speed at which he answered.

“Okay, why are you a jerk?”

A scoff sounded, “It’s in my genetic make-up. Next.”

Snorting in amusement, Alya continued, “Did ‘Chat Noir’ ever had any intentions of meeting up with Marinette in person?”

“He has to keep his identity secret, so unless he could fully trust her with keeping his secret, I don’t think so. Or at least I would stop him, he wears his heart on his sleeve, at one point he would crack like an egg.”

Alya wrote that down too, ‘secret identity’, ‘no meeting’, ‘crack like an egg’.

The young woman rubbed her chin in thought, half the questions flying out the window now that the person she wanted to interrogate wasn’t here.

“What does ‘Chat Noir’ look like?”

“Oh, god-like. A model really. Sun kissed skin, corn golden hair, forest green eyes and all the smhuck.”

Alya rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her coffee, “Are you giving me false information?” she stared at the soulless eyes of the doll, annoyed she wasn’t getting her questions answered.

“…Pawsibly.”

“So, you have to protect his identity that much? Alright, I’ll leave this for Marinette to figure out but can you at least answer me one question?”

Plagg mulled the suggestion over, before pressing down on the speaker and replying, “Fine.”

“Did you ever meet up with Marinette in person or do you know if he ever met up with her?”

“Nope, cat’s honor. The ki-he never met up with her personally, if he had I wouldn’t be trying to hide his identity, now would I?”

Alya sighed heavily, leaning her head back to massage her forehead in frustration.

If Chat Noir never met up with Marinette, who the hell was the guy Marinette met up with?

Her thoughts were interrupted when the doll spoke again.

“Now, let me ask a question, miss Reporter.”      

••••••••••••••••••••••••     

Plagg tapped his fingers against the control panel, never letting the woman on the screen out of sight.

According to this woman, some guy apparently met up with pigtails girl and pretended to be Adrien?

Did somebody know their secret? Did someone leak it? No, they kept it heavily guarded, they always make sure no one catches them entering or leaving the restaurant.

If this man was someone unknown to them, maybe he knew Marinette? But if Marinette didn’t know him, was he her stalker?

Plagg felt a headache sneaking up on him, all this talk of identities and possible imposters made him want to just eat cheese and sleep.

“Hm, what to do with you?” he mused aloud, fingers still tapping his desk.

If he wanted to gain anything from this conversation, Plagg had to get as much information as he could.

He pulled the microphone close to his mouth.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Sure, spill.” Alya leaned back, notepad resting on the table next to her half finished breakfast.

It had only been an hour, but she felt like half the day passed. Interrogations always made time pass by faster.

Finally, the cat asked, “Do you have a photo of the man who claimed to be Chat Noir? Did Miss Dupain-Cheng show you a photo?”

Alya frowned, mentally slapping herself. “Uh…no. No she didn’t. Just that he was good-looking but seemed to act weird, like, downright mean to Nathaniel, Nathaniel’s her friend and co-worker by the way.”

The doll was silent, seemingly deep in thought over her answer, before he poised his next question. “Yeah, no way that’s the same guy. Chat Noir would never disrespect someone like that, especially if he’s a friend. He’s too nice for that.”

Leaning forward again, Alya rested her chin on her palm, “So, what do you suggest we do Puss in Boots?”

Another moment of silence before the replacement Chat Noir answered, “Tail her.”

Alya blinked, “What?”

“Tail your friend when she goes out with that guy, try to get a photo.”

“What will you do with that information anyway? Are you from the secret services?” Alya froze, what if this guy and this Chat Noir fellow were some men with secretive backgrounds?

Alya snorted in amusement. What were the odds of them being some cliché secret agents? She would buy the story with Chat Noir being a model any day.

“If I were, I wouldn’t be sitting here posing as a plushie talking to people in a restaurant, would I?”

Someone was grouchy. Alya guessed this individual was either an old grump, or just a grump.

“That’s something a secret service agent would say to throw suspicion off themselves,” Alya teased playfully, before clearing her throat. “Anyway, fine, I’ll try to get a photo, but what will you tell Chat Noir when he comes back?”

“Exactly what happened, he has to know there’s a copycat out there. What will you tell Miss Dupain-Cheng?”

Alya glanced down at her notes, “The truth and nothing but the truth! What kind of a best friend would I be if I didn’t tell her what I discovered today?”

“Don’t tell her anything yet, let her stay in the dark until you get that photo of the copycat, then tell her the truth.”

Frowning in dismay at the prospect of lying to her friend, Alya shook her head, “But why? What if she gets hurt with that weird guy? We don’t know who he is or what he wants from her!”

“If he wanted to do something, he would’ve done that already. No sense in playing cat and mouse forever, right? I think your friend will be fine until you get his picture.”

“But why is the picture so important? Can’t she just ditch the guy and come here again as if nothing happened?” Alya didn’t understand why he insisted on that picture.

“Look, if that guy shadows Miss Dupain-Cheng one day and knows to what restaurant she goes to, he could potentially discover Chat Noir and I. And that’s something I wanna avoid, so get that picture of him and I’ll deal with him.”

The edge from the robotic voice made Alya’s skin crawl, “I knew it! You’re a hitman! A muscle for hire! Will you kill the guy if you find out who he is?” Alya slapped her hand on the table, ducking her head and mouthing an apology when nearby patrons glared at her.

Plagg swirled around in his chair, coming to a stop facing the monitor again.

He smiled, chuckling as he gave his answer through the speaker. “Not kill, but I’ll deal with him for trying to stir up trouble. Don’t worry, nothing illegal. I want to keep a low profile too.”

He waited patiently for the woman’s answer, seeing her mulling it over in her head.

He knew he sounded shady, maybe even downright dangerous, but Plagg would not take any chances in getting to that guy before he got to them and possibly endangered Adrien this way.

“Fine, I’ll try to arrange it next week when she meets up with him. If you break our contract, I’ll personally hunt you down and hold you accountable, got it pussycat?”

The woman pointed her finger at the camera, coming dangerously close to one of the cat’s eyes.

Plagg smirked, pressing the speaker on the microphone to talk. “Got it, miss reporter. Hope you can keep a secret.”

He grew more amused when the woman gathered her things, grabbing her untouched croissant, “I wouldn’t be good at my job if I couldn’t, pussycat.”

With that, she left with the promise to bring the photo and Plagg was ready to finish the rest of his meal until a hazel eyes suddenly popped into his field of vision.

The scream Plagg released was never to leave this room, the shrill pitch embarrassing to his own red ears, he was glad Adrien wasn’t here today.

“What?! Don’t get so close to the camera!” he spat, trying to calm his racing heart down.

The woman backed away, quickly retrieving something from her purse and holding it up near the camera, “Sorry! Just, write this down so you know how to contact me, since I can’t contact you.”

Plagg squinted, eyeing the details on the white business card.

La presse de la societe

Alya Cesaire

Journaliste d’investigation

Tel. XXX-XXX-XXX

Quickly scribbling down the information, Plagg spoke into the speaker and Miss Cesaire left with the promise to return and the threat to contact her.

Plagg stared down at the information he wrote, quickly folding the piece of paper and shoving it in his pocket.

Just when he reached for his bowl of now cold cheese, the lock on the backdoor sounded.

“Hey Plagg! Sorry for being so late, I still had to ask my professor something.” Adrien greeted him with a wave and a tired smile, hanging his jacket on the coat rack and placing his bag on the empty chair before walking towards him. “So, anything interesting happen?”

There was this hopeful shimmer in his eyes, the one that told Plagg he was still waiting for Marinette to show up.

He almost felt guilty for lying. “Nope, nothing, just some cranky old lady eating her breakfast. Her teeth fell out so she had to leave, good thing you didn’t see that. Gonna give me nightmares for weeks, ugh.”

Plagg stuck his tongue out, rolling his chair out of the way so Adrien could take a seat at his desk, chuckling. “Don’t be like that Plagg, I can’t wait to see the day you grow all old and bald with your dentures in a glass.”

“Ha, ha, very funny kid.” Plagg playfully kicked Adrien’s chair, causing him to rotate in circles. The model only laughed and Plagg discreetly shoved the slip of paper that peeked out back in his pocket.

Thank you for reading everyone! And thank you again for your eternal patience, hopefully the next update is quicker :3

[a-lil-perspective]

The Bad Batch X Sick Reader

A/N: This is my very first posted fic on here, I hope you all enjoy. Please feel free to provide feedback, it’s much appreciated!

Although you didn’t bolt upright in dramatic fashion upon returning from a deep slumber, you nevertheless awoke with a start, eyes fluttering open and feeling vaguely aware of the dampness of a cold sweat permeating your hairline. Disorientation takes over as you lie rigid in the bed, only being able to process the physicality of how utterly terrible you feel- you didn’t think you could move in such quick succession if you tried- Every joint feels stiff and your muscles are resistant to comply, attempting to encompass and entrap your body deep within the mattress, refusing to give way to your motions.

Swiping at the remnants of sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, you become uncomfortably conscious of the fact that your face is burning up, despite the rest of your extremities freezing in stark contrast.

This was no good. Your heart rate quickens as panic rises in your throat, gripping tightly as your breath hitches. Your mind begins racing, conjuring up every angle of the current situation in an attempt to make some light of it. You eventually force the lump down, giving into the overwhelming realization.

You were sick. Big time.

Fearing you looked as bad as you felt, you promptly thrust yourself out of bed with great effort and a groan of pain before stumbling into the ‘fresher, examining your entirety and fervently hoping your initial concerns were just an exaggerated oversight.

One glance at your trembling, pale, and achy form confirmed your worst suspicions.

“Kriff,” is all you can manage, further worsening matters by the realization of your curse rolling out only as a mere croak. Gritting your teeth, you roll your puffy, exhausted eyes and shake your head in disappointment. Great. Sick AND losing your voice. This can’t get much worse, you think to yourself bitterly as you level your gaze back at the mirror.

With great effort you manage you pull yourself together enough to make it out to the common area of the ship, bracing yourself to face the others. You remain self-conscious of your movements, attempting to exert your stance, stride, and demeanor with purpose as to not draw unwanted attention to yourself and your condition.

Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair- they were no fools. Hunter especially, what with his enhanced senses and innate perceptions, will pick up on your illness lighting fast.

Realizing you’re up and starting your day much later than usual, it’s no surprise the guys are already up and in their respective places- although Hunter is nowhere to be found upon entering the common room.

Tech, lounging in a seat with his nose buried in his datapad, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, looks up to greet you first, his expression turning into that of perplexity.

“Good morning, Y/N. I am surprised you slept in. Stayed up late last night, I presume?”

You clear your throat in an attempt to forcefully exact your normal, chipper level of voice. “Hey, Tech. Yeah, something like that.”

He nods, returning sights to his work, facial expression evident that his curiosity is momentarily satiated. It’s clear that he didn’t pick up on the fact that your voice, despite your best attempts, came out in just above a whisper. For that, you were thankful.

You head over to the cupboard to pour yourself some caf, hoping a warm drink would do you some good.

“You look like hell.”

A terse statement from the jaded appearance of Crosshair standing in the corner, arms folded across his chest and eyes boring into you, caused you to jump and your already trembling fingers to drop the empty cup you had grabbed, clanging to the ground and reverberating with purpose as if some cruelly overly-dramatized joke.

Feeling frustration bubble to the surface, you sigh deeply and level a thinly-veiled unimpressed look in his direction, unable to muster the willpower to put up with his attitude today.

“Thanks.” You sneer. Before you even manage a step over in his direction to where the cup had predictably rolled, Crosshair moved in the blink of an eye to pick it up and appear alongside you, placing the now unusable cup to the side and in one solid motion, reaching up to grab a new one down for you.

You look at Crosshair quizzically. Out of all the other members on this ship with whom you’ve fallen into methodical and sequential step with, you two have still got some steps to learn to your dance, with you having never quite fully figured out the enigmatic sniper and all of his expressive layers.

“Thanks,” you mutter in just above a strained whisper, though pushing more sincerity and less of a sarcastic quip this time. Turning to pour the caf, you’re taken by mild surprise when Crosshair engages with you once again.

“You sick or somethin’?” His eyes narrow questioningly as he searches your face before reaching out tentatively to thumb at your cheek, gently cupping it.

You’re taken aback by the touch, distantly aware of your heart rate quickening it’s pace. You avoid his questioning gaze, instead focusing on the sensation of his cool fingertips meeting the increasing warmth radiating from your skin with ease. Despite the fact that the action further solidifies your current state of being fever-ridden. It’s oddly comforting.

You hesitantly turn away, but not before slightly leaning into his touch.

“I’m fine,” you manage weakly.

Crosshair’s not convinced in the slightest. But before he can voice his trepidation, Wrecker comes bounding into the room, his voice boisterous and projecting. Not exactly the sound volume you want to hear right now but, you can’t help but smile inwardly at his puppy-like energy. He means well.

“Hiya, Y/N!” Wrecker greets you with a less-than-gentle pat on the back, making you almost spill the cup of hot caf you had laced your cold fingers around just moments before.

You weren’t sure what facial expression you were wearing, but Wrecker falters nonetheless. “You okay?” He asks, voice coated with concern.

Kriff. You wish everyone would kindly stop asking you that. You just wanted to enjoy your kriffing cup of caf and TRY to recoup before your briefing in two standard rotations, with which you’d been tasked with compiling numerous works together in preparation for a large-scale mission forthcoming. The fact that you were in this state, so close to the arrival date of the meeting and your work not AT ALL in a state of completion, was seriously stressing.

“Yeah, Wrecker.” You once again smile up at the gentle giant looming over you. “All good.”

As if on cue in an effort for the universe to illuminate your lying streak with full bravado, your body is racked with increasing pain and you tremble, feeling a shiver go up your spine.

Nobody gets a word out before Hunter comes around. He looks as if he’s just awoke, blinking rapidly and rubbing at his temples. You consider him for a moment then, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks.

OH.

THAT’S why he hasn’t been around this morning.

Guilt suddenly pangs at your chest as you revert back to yesterday, recalling how Hunter had to turn in after the last mission due to a headache caused from a sensory overload. He had explained to you how it plagued him from time to time, and reassured you not to worry, but you couldn’t forget how much pain he was in- eyes glazed over, body doubled over, beads of sweat enveloping his face. It made you feel helpless.

Helpless, and embarrassed at your perceived selfishness.

Here you were, out here dropping cups from the cupboard and making general racket, all the while wallowing in your own self-misery today- having not even previously processed how Hunter could’ve been in the other room feeling just as miserable.

Now he stood before you, addressing everyone about something, something you couldn’t even hear over the sound of your own thoughts simultaneously drowning everyone out.

“-Feels like I heard commotion or somethin’ out here, just thought I’d check on y’all.” He grinned in amusement, feeling a spark of playfulness. “Wanted to make sure Y/N wasn’t acting up in here.”

Everyone cracked a grin but you, who all but blurted out your guilty admission, much to your chagrin. It’s your own guilt, coupled with illness, sporadic emotions due to the fact, and lack of coherent thoughts nagging at you all at once.

“Hunter... I’m sorry,” you croaked. All eyes were on you, each differing degrees of quizzical expressions.

“I-I’m the one who dropped the cup and made the racket. I didn’t consider that you could’ve still been feeling unwell. Sorry.” You sheepishly confess, before spilling into a coughing fit.

Kriff. Shouldn’t have said so much in one setting. Way to make your condition obvious.

Hunter, who holds the most mixed expressions you’ve ever seen- amusement, discomfort, confusion, laced with compassion- comes striding over to you.

“Y/N. You’re rambling. That’s not like you,” he chuckles. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me, okay? You look like you could use a lot more help right now.” He reaches a hand to splay out across your forehead to check for a fever that you both already know is becoming, to which you gracefully duck and sidestep him, all while gripping your cup of caf.

Crosshair chuckles at your motion and Hunter just looks to you. He’s diving fully into empathetic, sensible parent mode- you can tell- as he sighs exasperatedly at your innate ability to prove difficult.

“Y/N... ya gotta let us figure out what’s going on with you, so that we can get ya well.”

You look down into the cup, weighing those words and considering what to say next. You’ve never been one to freely and openly allow someone to care for you, nor have you fully possessed the ability to convey your feelings in a refined way- especially when you’re unwell. Your tenacity, though admirable, doesn’t always make it easy for someone else to know how to help you. Likewise, deeming it challenging for you to even know how one can help you. It’s a tedious cycle that plagues you when you immerse yourself too deep.

“I... I think I’m just tired.” you manage weakly. “Besides,” you croak, “I’ve got to get all my works completed before the briefing.”

With that, collective silence falls as you stumble back towards your room, thankful for the closed doors that keep your vulnerabilities and current physical ailments tightly locked away.

You were thankful for the brief quiet time, and managed to clear your head just enough to work for what you estimated to be about a half hour that came and went. With your work sprawled on the floor, you alongside it, the caf mug well empty now and off to the side, there’s a wheezing that now accompanies your breaths and, it worries you. As you lie flat on the floor, fear swells in your chest and you wish you had the courage to call the guys in here to you. You wish you weren’t so conflicted.

As you finish that train of thought, there’s a loud bang on the door.

“Y/N?” It’s Wrecker, the realization coming unsurprisingly to you judging by the obvious choice gesture of greeting at the door.

“Come in,” you strain your voice to project.

In the doorframe you find all four members of The Bad Batch, all weighing mixed levels of concern at your small, sick frame curled up on the floor. They all collectively rush in, though in a way as to not alarm you. In the moment, you’re thankful for their company.

“Hey,” Hunter soothes as he kneels down beside you, running a hand through your hair. “You’re gonna be okay. Let us take care of you, like you take care of us.”

You nod weakly, coming to your senses and surrendering all complaining rights in that moment.

Hunter orders Tech to go and grab the small medkit kept on the ship, though they’re all well aware of the fact that it’s not on par with medical facilities. Being several parsecs away from the nearest, they want to at least get the ball rolling here onboard for now. They decide not to move you until you’re stable.

Wrecker comes behind you and sits down, straddling you back into his lap and letting you use him as a body pillow. He doesn’t mind, he loves your small frame in contrast with his own, much larger one. You love how warm he is in the moment. It’s a mutual feeling between you two of safety and security.

Tech promptly returns with the medkit and although Crosshair is the only one appearing rigid and most hesitant to be hands-on with you, The Bad Batch get to work, communicating amongst themselves with the same efficiency they project amidst all things. They give you some anti-inflammatories to take the edge off, and you vaguely remember a stimulant- an overwhelmingly pleasant aroma of something very herbal-like. You initially thought it to be reminiscent of Bacta, but it wasn’t.. What was that?

Almost instantly, your chest felt clear. Your breathing became even and despite still being in pain, you were no longer wheezing. You attempted to make a mental note to ask later what the miracle worker was, but you weren’t able to give it much more thought as you felt your eyes suddenly became heavy-lidded, succumbing to rest you know your body desperately needed.

You awoke much later, feeling immensely better, and no longer needing the medical facility services that were finally available to you. Four pairs of eyes were studying you and, upon seeing you wake, the expressions attached collectively sighed in relief. You couldn’t help but feel something soft swirl in your chest upon lovingly fixing your gaze on the crew of the Havoc Marauder. They truly were something special. They knew you the best, and were able to have the most profound effect on you, no matter how adamantly complex you could be. They deeply cared for you. It’s moments like these, you realize how intertwined and inseparable you are.

You hope it always stays that way.

[silly-nonny-fics-are-for-fandoms]

As the snow falls around us

Note: This is a gift fic for @angiezstuff! Gonna keep saying thank you because you are awesome! Also, I had to rewrite the whole beginning of this fic because I found out about their birthstones this morning, so I’m sorry if it’s not as fluid as the rest of the fic.

Gift fic 2/3, this one is Stosuh.

Summary: Stephen accidentally found out that Hosuh was going to propose to him. True, they had been dating for around ten years, and that certainly wasn't what Stephen was upset about. No, what he was upset about, of course, was that he'd been planning to propose to Hosuh, and his ring wasn't done yet.

Read on Ao3, or keep reading here! 

Stephen saw the ring before he realized that Hosuh was planning on proposing. They'd been dating since shortly after they met, nearing on ten years now, it was about time. Honestly, he hadn't meant to see it, but he'd been cleaning in the living room when he came across a small box in one of the drawers of the coffee table. It was black velvet in finish, and when he opened it, he found a little silver ring with little amethyst and sapphire crystals in a quartered diamond. The amethysts were on top and bottom, with the sapphires on each side. The color of his hair and his birthstone.

Of course, amethyst was also Gavin's birthstone, but whatever. That wasn't what mattered. What mattered was that Hosuh was planning on proposing.

Now Stephen had to act like he didn't know, and like he wasn't planning on doing the same thing come the winter. They were in the middle of autumn, nearing Gavin and Jay's anniversary. His brother and Jay both lived with them, though they'd been dating for only four years. 

The ring Stephen had ordered was a thin band of silver with little sections of it replaced in stripes of blue topaz and the center an amethyst and ammolite. Hosuh's birthstone and the national stones of Hosuh's home country and the country he wanted to live in for the rest of his life. It had been expensive, yeah, but it was worth it for how personal it would be to him. 

Winter was their favorite season, even though the cold was brutal in Canada. The cold brought them closer together, it had their favorite holidays in it, and they had a tradition when it came to the first snowfall. No matter when it was if the forecast had snow, they would be up. If it was scheduled for three in the morning, they'd cook, play games, and once Stephen had convinced his boyfriend to spend the time dancing with him. It was, without a doubt, their favorite time. So, he'd planned to propose during the first snowfall of the season. 

They'd talked extensively about how they wanted their wedding to be, to the point that almost all they needed to do was actually get engaged and they could get things done themselves. It wasn't like this would be a surprise. Except there was a reason no one told him secrets involving himself;  he couldn't keep his damn mouth shut unless it was in the image of self-preservation.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna get married," He whispered to himself, a dopey grin on his face as he thought about how Hosuh would propose. Would it be on their anniversary in January? Would it be on a different day, like when they're just out on a date? When? How long would he need to pretend he didn't know? Hosuh's ring would be in by the end of the week, luckily for him. 

Because the two-week forecast predicted light snow at midnight to eight am in almost two weeks.

He was gonna propose to Hosuh, and Hosuh would probably try to propose back. This was going to be fun. And this was going to be torture, not knowing when Hosuh was going to spring the question on him.

His phone rang shortly after he finished his cleaning, having put the box back exactly where he found it. The jeweler's icon showed up on his phone's caller ID and his eyes went wide, quickly checking to make sure Hosuh was still cleaning in the kitchen, seeing him also talking quietly on the phone, before heading up to their room and answering the call with a deep breath.

"Hello, may I ask who's calling?"

"Hello! I'm calling about a ring ordered by Mr. Stephen Ng?" 

"This is him. What's up?"

"I regret to inform you that the ring will not be in at the time which was estimated. During transportation to our store, the truck got delayed and as such will be a few days late. My apologies. Would you like us to call you once it arrives and is ready for pick up?"

"What?! Of course I would!" 

"Thank you, sir. We will call you as soon as it's ready. Have a nice day."

Beeeeeep.

Stephen wanted to scream. Of course, it would be delayed. He only had to design his own ring for Hosuh, had been working with the jeweler to make sure it was absolutely perfect and feasibly possible, so of course it took so long. 

"I can't believe this bullcrap!" He exclaimed into the void, grabbing one of the pillows and screaming into it for about two minutes straight before he ran out of air. Did it make him feel better? A little bit. Did it fix the problem? Absolutely not.

He needed to calm down or Hosuh would figure it out, and he'd be crushed. He couldn't crush this dream. When it was a game, he was the most competitive person he knew, and would happily knock down the competition with a grin. But this was life, this was his partner, and he couldn't do that to him. And watching Hosuh cry over serious issues was never something he enjoyed. 

The next few days were torture. Pure torture. Hosuh was extra anxious, his medication didn't help at all, and it made him jittery. Simultaneously jittery and exhausted, that was the way Hosuh existed. And it killed Stephen to watch. Did Hosuh know he knew? 

Gavin and Jay being extra lovey-dovey weren't helping either. In fact, it only made things worse, because Hosuh tried to imitate them but his anxiety got the better of him every time so he'd always end up in a panic. It wasn't something he could control, but it was something they were used to. So Stephen took it slow. He kept as calm as he could so that he didn't raise Hosuh's worries, only touching him if Hosuh said he could. He missed kissing his boyfriend. He missed holding him as they fell asleep.

This wasn't the first time Hosuh's anxiety spiked in a major way for a long time before a big event. The last time this happened, it was when they were taking a vacation and Hosuh could barely enjoy the first two days of the trip because of it. 

"I don't know how you put up with me and my anxiety," Hosuh mumbled one morning, reaching over to take Stephen's hand, "I'm probably making you miserable."

"Oh my god, Hosuh," Stephen sighed, "I've not been just putting up with you, it's just part of who you are. And Stephen loves Hosuh. So you need to stop putting my Hosuh down, got it?" He glanced at his partner, watching him smile and try to hide his chuckle. Every time Stephen saw Hosuh smile, he fell in love all over again, and he fell deeper with every kiss. He wanted to keep falling in love with him every day, to keep loving him deeper and stronger, to see him in every way possible. He wanted to support his lows and celebrate the highs, to share and revel in the experience together.

They'd partly grown up together, and he wanted to grow old together too.

Maybe that was sappy, maybe it was dramatic or whatever, but Stephen did not care. He loved that he had the ability to love someone and to love Hosuh when Hosuh couldn't love himself. He wanted to see Hosuh happy, and while he'd gotten better at loving himself and being comfortable in his own skin, they had quite some ways to go.

Stephen was looking forward to it. 

Their phones each rang simultaneously, and when Stephen checked his caller ID, he found it was the jeweler's. His eyes went wide, gasping softly. 

"I'll be right back, gotta take this. It's for work." Stephen said, jumping out of bed and rushing out of the room, answering the phone as he hurried down the stairs so Hosuh didn't hear him.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Is this Stephen Ng?"

"Yes, this is."

"Your ring is ready for pickup. You can pick it up any time after we open." Stephen glanced at the calendar, which had a little snowflake sticker for when the first snowfall was expected. Today. Perfect. A little close to the wire, but perfectly doable. He just needed to pick it up without Hosuh becoming suspicious. 

"Thank you, I'll be there like an hour after you guys open to pick it up." 

"We'll be expecting you, have a nice day, sir."

"You too." 

Beeep.

"Bro? Something wrong?" Gavin said, staring at his brother who was standing at the bottom of the stairs. "You're really pale."

"Okay, Gavin, I have a job for you to do," Stephen said, staring at his brother with intense passion in his eyes, "I need you to keep Hosuh busy until noon." 

"What? Why?"

Stephen put his phone in his pajama pocket, reaching over to grip his brother's shoulders, "I'm going to go pick up a ring so I can propose to Hosuh before he proposes to me, so keep him busy."

Gavin looked like he wanted to say something, eyes wide with a shaky smile. "Damn, bro! You're actually gonna pop the question? That's awesome! Good luck."

"No, I saw the ring, I know he's gonna say yes, so I need to do it first. So keep Hosuh busy until I get back."

"I can totally do that! Good luck!" 

"I don't need luck, I'm Stephen!" 

Stephen was so excited once he had the box in his hand. It was a dark blue box, but that wasn't what was important. He sat in the driveway, staring at the ring which lay inside. It was just how he thought it would look, absolutely wonderful. Everything he paid for it was absolutely worth it when he had it in his hand, he just needed to actually propose. It was supposed to start snowing a little while before midnight, so they wouldn't have to stay up too long past normal. 

He looked up, and his eyes went wide when he noticed that the other car was gone. No one should have anywhere to go today, why was the car gone?

He exited his car, heading inside quickly. "Gavin?! Hosuh?!" He exclaimed, only for Jay to reply. 

"They went to the gym, calm down." Jay sighed, rolling his eyes, "No need to scream."

"Oh thank God. Also, I'm going to need you and Gavin-"

"Already booked the hotel. I know the first snowfall is important to you and Hosuh so I made arrangements."

"Well, thank you for finishing my sentence, asshole!"

"You're welcome."

Stephen hated that he had to put up with him. One day, maybe five years in the future, he'd end up being in-laws with Jay, and that was something he didn't want to put up with. He sincerely hoped that Gavin would get married one day, and he hoped he was happy, but he didn't want to deal with Jay.

Now all he needed to do was wait for the night to come, and he could get ready. Once Hosuh and Gavin returned, his lovable ball of anxiety gave him a big hug and a kiss, apologizing for having not texted before he left. They always texted one another when they left, because neither wanted the other to worry. 

Jay and Gavin left as soon as the sunset, heading off to their hotel room so that they could have some privacy. They'd made hot chocolate and curry; not the most romantic of foods, but it was nice and warm, which they needed if they were going to make it to midnight. Well, which Stephen needed if he wanted to make it to midnight. Hosuh had no issues staying up until like three in the morning, while Stephen almost never went to bed after ten. He'd been getting better at getting Hosuh to go to bed early, though.

Now, they stood on the balcony, sipping their hot chocolate as they waited for the snow to fall. 

"I can't believe it's been over ten years," Hosuh said, staring up at the stars. The area they lived in was far enough out of the main city that they could see the stars, as there wasn't much light pollution. 

"It doesn't feel that long. Still feels like two."

"Some days it feels like forever."

"Pff- That's true. You know I'd love to spend forever with you." 

Something wet hit their faces, and they realized what it was. Looking around, they could see the snow falling all around them softly. It wasn't supposed to be a lot of snow, barely half an inch, and it would likely melt by the morning. But it didn't make it any less magical to them. Instinctively, they leaned over and kissed, softly, sweetly, slowly. Every ounce of love could be felt in that one press of the lips, warming them from the inside out. 

Stephen reached into his pocket where he'd put the ring, stepping back from his partner as he pulled it out. Except, just as he was about to get on one knee, he saw a similar box in Hosuh's hand. They both stared at the other's box, faces turning red.

"Wait- Stephen, are you going to-"

"You were planning to tonight? That was my plan!"

"Oh my god," Hosuh laughed, setting the box down on the little table they had set up on their balcony, "We're such dorks." Stephen joined in on the laughter, the chilled air showing their breaths in soft puffs, unbridled joy and love in their voices.

"I guess that's a yes, then?" Stephen said through his laughter.

"Only if it's a yes from you too." 

"What? Of course it is!"

They each opened their boxes, and Stephen was surprised. That wasn't the ring he'd found. This one was larger, sectioned off in layers with a black wavy section in the middle. He recognized the gemstone on the bottom; ammolite. The top was purple, but not the deep amethyst color. Then he realized where he'd seen it before. Purple sapphire. The black wave was a soundwave, and he recognized it. When they were still in school and did a paper on what soundwaves were, they got to use a machine that showed them what the soundwaves looked like. The two of them had said 'I love you forever' together for the first time on that day, their voices blending together. Wrapping around the ring was love and forever from that project. 

"Huh, that's surprising," Stephen said, not expecting Hosuh to jump at the words.

"D-Do you not like it?"

"What? No, Hosuh, I love it, you thought of everything. I'm just surprised because I found a ring box while cleaning two weeks ago and this wasn't it."

"Oh," Hosuh breathed a sigh of relief, "That's Jay's, for Gavin." 

"So you weren't planning on proposing?"

"Of course I was. I've been working with a jeweler to make your ring for months. I had to pick it up today because the delivery truck was delayed."

"Holy crap, I think we went to the same jeweler! I picked up yours this morning because the delivery truck was delayed!"

Once again, they couldn't stop the laughter flooding out from them. Even without knowing it, they'd gotten the perfect rings for one another simultaneously. And as they sat there in the slowly falling snow, hands held tight, there was nowhere else in the world they'd rather be, and no one they'd rather be with. 

[not-close-to-straight]

Summer Nights (Three)

Ohhhh Drama Drama Drama mama-- Steve gets back together, Nat and Bucky break up, and then the dance! If you’ve seen the movie, you’ll definitely notice what I changed, but it’s still fun!

MASTERLIST HERE

************ Peter Quill and Steve Rogers became everyone’s favorite couple immediately. 

Not only were they both big and blonde and all sorts of beautiful, but Peter was adorably earnest in absolutely everything and Steve was so nice that even the lunch ladies loved him. Scott Lang put up posters that very same day nominating Peter and Steve as Homecoming Kings and the yearbook photographer came by at least once a week to snap pictures of them eating lunch, holding hands down the hall, or just laughing together because both Peter and Steve had perfect smiles. 

Peter loved the attention of course, and always had a mega watt grin turned towards the lens, and while Steve was a little more reserved, he had to admit it was nice to be with someone so uncomplicated, someone who didn’t mind showing him off. 

Peter was a little bit goofy but he had a heart of gold and was charming in a cheesy sort of way. He pulled out Steve’s chair and held open doors and even though Steve was in advanced classes and had loads of books, Peter had loads of muscles so he carried all their books in one hand and kept his other arm right around Steve’s waist to walk him to class. 

Steve liked wearing Peter’s jacket so everyone knew he was Peter’s fella, he liked the way Peter waved at him during games. He liked how Peter was always so excited to see him in the morning and how the big quarterback never wanted to hang up when they talked at night and most of all, Steve liked that Peter was always the same person whether they were in public or private, with the other jocks or sitting with Steve’s friends at lunch. 

Peter was uncomplicated, sweet and honest and sure, maybe a little dumb but Steve sort of loved it. So when Peter stopped him one day and stammered through a frankly adorable, “You sure look pretty today-- I mean handsome today-- I mean wow, those pants on your butt-- I mean--” Steve just laughed and tipped his chin up for a kiss, and laughed again when Peter cheered in excitement before leaning in to give him a very gentle kiss. 

It was a good kiss, if not a little clumsy. A good kiss, but there wasn’t a riot of butterflies in his stomach and Steve wasn’t weak kneed like he’d been when Tony used to--

Nope. Not thinking about that.

No. Steve put his arms around Peter’s neck and kissed him again, muffling the quarterbacks surprised noise with his mouth and pressing their bodies together. No he was not going to think about Tony when Peter was good and kind and sweet and everything Steve should be looking for in a boyfriend. 

“Wow.” Peter’s eyes were blown wide when they finally parted, his smile stretching towards ridiculous. “What was that for?” 

“I just like you is all.” Steve whispered, and Peter gave a quiet “Yay!” and squeezed at Steve’s hand. 

Steve smiled over Peter’s goofiness, just like he smiled over all the good natured teasing from Thor and Carol, and the overly nosy but most likely well meaning questions from Pepper. Natasha only ever rolled her eyes over anything remotely relationship related, but Steve ignored her and ignored the lack of butterflies, determined not to let how much he still missed Tony ruin what was definitely a good thing with Peter. 

Besides, Natasha didn’t do a whole lot of eye rolling these days anyway. She was far too busy hanging off Bucky’s arm and that was definitely not something anyone was allowed to tease her for. 

Today Natasha lounged in the front seat of Bucky’s junker with her feet up on the dashboard as she watched her boyfriend-- nope, not saying that-- as she watched Bucky go back and forth between his tool box and the hood of the car. She fought a smile hearing the gorgeous brunette curse as he banged his head at least twice, and when Bucky yelped in pain over pinching his finger, Natasha finally sighed and wriggled her way out of the seat to see what was the matter. 

“Everything alright?” Natasha planted both hands on the car and leaned over the hood as if she had any idea what she was looking at. “My god, this looks terrible under here, I’m practically embarrassed to be seen next to it.” 

“If you weren’t so fuckin’ hot, I’d be mad about that.” Bucky huffed, sticking his finger in his mouth to clean the blood from it. “Ain’t right for a girl to insult a guy’s car.” 

“This is barely a car, Buck.” Natasha countered and when Bucky growled in frustration, she wiped a smudge of grease from his cheek and smiled. “But I like the way those jeans sit on your ass.” 

“Well I guess that counts for something.” Bucky pushed his hair out of his eyes and sighed down at the various pieces of engine. “Tony’s sposed to be helpin’ me with this shit, you know. This was gonna be our project, but I dunno where he even is most days and I’m never gonna get this done without help. You any good with a wrench, Tash?” 

“What, like a real wrench?” Tasha glanced at one of the greasy tools and shook her head, going up on her toes to kiss Bucky instead, pushing her curves into his hard frame until Bucky cursed for an entirely different reason and spanned her waist with his big hands, yanking her close. “No. Not good at all. No idea what to do with one of them.” 

“Well, are you any good with uh--” Bucky dragged one of her hands down to the front of his pants and when Natasha palmed over him, he moaned, low and messy. “Ah fuck, babydoll, you’re good with that, huh?” 

“Well it’s not a wrench.” Natasha laughed under her breath when Bucky slammed the hood of the car and then lifted her right up onto it, pushing between her knees to crush their mouths together. “But I suppose I know my way around this sort of tool pretty damn well.”

Their version of flirting was far far from Steve and Peter’s nearly chaste teasing, but it made them so obviously happy that not even Clint and Sam had anything snarky to say about the unorthodox couple. Thor fully approved, Pepper and Carol were just relieved Natasha wasn’t quite as bitchy any more, and Valkyrie was too busy gaping over Natasha to give Bucky hell about being whipped. 

Steve and Peter were happy, Bucky and Natasha were their own brand of happy, and the only person who would admit to being totally miserable was Tony. 

Tony who walked through school every day and saw posters promoting Steve and Peter as Homecoming Kings and Couple of the Year. 

Tony who had walked up to Bucky’s place wanting to distract himself with a couple hours of work on the car and had been treated to the misfortune of hearing Bucky and Tasha together in the back seat. 

Carol and Pepper only gossiped when they saw him, and Thor had nothing but frosty glares for the way Tony had treated Steve at the bonfire. Sam whistled and hollered for Tony anytime he saw him, but Clint and Valkyrie were too busy clowning on each other and causing general mayhem to pay any attention to Tony’s moping. 

And he was certainly moping. Tony been heartbroken when he’d called Steve and been told he had a wrong number. He’d been embarrassed to have Steve show up at school of all places acting as if nothing was wrong and then that embarrassment and heartbreak had turned to anger when Steve apparently moved right on to Peter. 

But then the anger faded into a sort of determination that Tony didn’t completely understand, but knew he had to act on. 

“He doesn’t miss me at all.” Tony muttered, pacing back and forth outside the gym. “Acts like I broke his heart? He broke my heart and then ran off to date that moron--” he kicked at a rock and then cursed when it about busted his toe. “I mean sure, I said some stupid things, maybe some mean things but I--I--” 

Tony ran his hands through his hair and groaned out loud. “I didn’t know what to do! I was all messed up and shocked and he was just so pretty right there and I acted like a dumbass and--” 

“Tony.” Gym teacher, athletic director and half past ancient Coach Stan Lee took the cigarette from Tony’s mouth and put it out with a sigh. “I came out here to smoke in peace, not to share my cigarettes with some punk and listen to him complain. What’r’ya doing out here?” 

“I uh--” Tony shoved his hands into his jacket and sighed. “Coach I uh-- I want to join a team. Want to you know-- want to be a jock?” 

“A jock.” Coach Lee was one of the most patient teachers in the school, had been coaching teenagers almost forty years now, had seen and heard all the bullshit kids came along with, but Tony Stark wanting to be a jock about shocked him speechless. “What?” 

“I need to change.” Tony kept looking at the ground, kicking at the dirt. “And this should be a good start, right? Being a jock? Seems bout as different from me as I can get.”

“Son, what sort of problem are you trying to solve by becoming an athlete?” 

“....a stupid one.” Tony muttered. “One I shouldn’t care about but I can’t seem to shake it.” 

“Ah.” Coach Lee raised his eyebrows. “So it’s love, then.” 

“Summer fling, don't mean a--” Tony pursed his lips and sighed again. “Yeah. It’s love.” 

“Alright.” Stan clapped his hands together. “I can get on board with that. First things first though, you gotta change.” 

“Well that’s why I’m here.” Tony deadpanned. “To change. Apparently this rebellious punk look isn’t working for me so I’m going to get a jacket, get a letter, change.” 

“Yeah, no I mean you have to change.” The Coach motioned to Tony’s leather jacket, to the skinny jeans and high top converse. “I send you running in that get up and you’ll die of heat exhaustion or chafing and honestly son, I don’t know which of those is worse.” 

“Oh man, I have to run?” Tony whined and the Coach only chuckled and waved him inside the gym. “Go on, go get in uniform and meet me by the mats.”

“Oh man, I gotta wear a uniform?” Tony started to complain, but then he caught sight of one of those Homecoming King posters with Steve and Peter’s names scrawled all over it, and his eyes narrowed. “Alright. If Steve needs a jock, I’ll be a jock. A uniform it is.” 

********

The uniform was terrible, but Tony wore it anyway, and when Coach put him up against M’Baku as a wrestling partner Tony swallowed the instinct to scream, and worked at learning the positions and moves. 

“Alright, wrestling isn’t your thing.” Coach Lee acknowledged when Tony barely made it out of a pin alive. “What about baseball?” 

“What, like hitting people when they try to steal your base?” 

“Nope, there is no hitting people in baseball. We’re gonna slide right past that suggestion and into track.” Coach raised his eyebrows. “How about track? No contact, limited interaction, you can just get out there and run all your angst out.” 

“Run all my angst out.” Tony blew his hair off his forehead and put his hands on his hips. “That sounds okay. But isn’t the track right by the football practice field?” 

“Sure is.” Coach said mildly. “Is that alright?” 

Tony thought about how Steve sat and watched Peter at practice every single day and made an instant decision. “Yep. Yep, that’s alright. Track it is. 

****************

“Look Sam, I don’t want to hang out with you anymore than you want to hang out with me.” Pepper tucked her hands into the pockets of her fur coat and shivered. “But since Tasha and Bucky are still hooking up, we have to deal with it.” 

“Well I mean--” Sam stopped halfway to a sip of his hot chocolate. “Damn, Pep. I wanted to hang out with you. You don’t want to hang out with me?” 

“Oh.” Pepper’s eyes widened as if she’d never even considered the possibility. “No?” 

“Pep, you are ice cold.” Valkyrie chuckled. “Why are you so cranky?”

“Don’t mind her, she’s just put out cos all Tasha does these days is put on lipstick, hang out with Bucky and then reapply lipstick.” Carol hip checked Clint out of the way so she could get the next hot chocolate from the coffee stand. “Pep you can’t be too grown for high school boys and then be mad if your friends still want to, that’s not fair.”

“Whatever.” Pepper turned her nose up and sniffed. “Did you uys hear the Winter Formal is being hosted by Justin Hammer? There’s a boy I’d let boss me around. He’s on TV, drives a fancy car and he hosts one of the biggest talent shows in the country. I don’t know how he got convinced to come host a dance at Andover High, but I plan on taking full advantage of it.” 

“What, you in to older men Pepper? Justin Hammer is like thirty.” Clint pulled a face. “That’s so old, I bet nothing on him even works right anymore.” 

“I’m willing to overlook a lot of mistakes so long as there’s a lot of zeros in his bank account.” Pepper said blandly. “And it’s not like the choices around Andover are that great. Who am I supposed to go to the dance with? Oh and speaking of choices, Thor, how is beauty school going?” 

Thor ran his hands over his newly bright pink hair and shrugged. “I don’t really want to talk about it.” 

“Thor's scary style choices aside, I’m going to the dance with Clint.” Carol hooked an arm around Clint’s neck and rumpled up  his hair. “Guaranteed to be a grope free evening because I beat him in arm wrestling and that was a turn on for exactly no one.” 

“And I’m going with Thor.” Valkyrie said matter of factly. “Again, guaranteed to be a grope free evening. No one with hot pink hair would risk a knuckle sandwich by tryna feel me up.” 

“I’d risk it.” Clint said immediately. “I’d definitely risk it.” and Sam agreed, “Should I dye my hair pink now or later?” 

“Change of plans.” Valkyrie said immediately. “I’ll be going with Carol while Clint and Sam dye their hair pink and play hide the pickle.” 

Loud shouts of “Hey!” and “Oh!” and “What in the--” were quickly followed by appraising glances and vaguely agreeable shrugs, and Sam decided, “So what Pep, so you’re gonna go with Thor? Or with Tony, cos them’s the only two left.” 

“An evening with me would be grope free.” Thor promised, holding up both hands. “Not because my hair is pink, but because I respect you enough not to try and get under your skirts.” Pepper raised her eyebrows and Thor amended, “Unless you gave me the go-ahead, of course.”

“Where the hell is Tony, anyway?” Valkyrie wanted to know. “Normally he’s at the ice cream shop or messin’ around working on Bucky’s car but I haven’t seen him in days.” 

“We haven’t seen him in…” Carol thought about it for a minute. “Thor, when was the last time you saw Tony?” 

“Haven’t really seen him since the bonfire.” Thor snagged Pepper’s compact from her purse and opened it, fussing at his hair. “He’s probably avoiding us since we spend time with Steve, but why isn’t he hanging out with you guys?” 

“Cos all we do is give him hell about Steve.” Clint answered promptly. “I feel like I’d avoid us too, we’re sorta the worst.” 

“Oh the worst.” Sam agreed, “Undoubtedly.” 

“Well, the dance should be interesting then.” Pepper said mildly. “If we’re all paired up and Steve is going with Peter, do you think Tony will go stag?” 

“He’ll come with someone, you’ll see.” Sam shook his head. “Tony Stark always has a date to the dance, he’d rather not show up than show up alone.” 

On the track field on the other side of the school, the same thought was swirling around Tony’s head as he did lap after lap around the field. Almost two months he’d been on the track team now and even though the uniform was stupid and the practice was terrible, Tony suited up every day and went running and just like Coach Lee had promised, he had all but an out his angst over Steve was feeling better ever day.” 

Not that he didn’t still miss Steve, damn it did Tony miss Steve. He hated every time he saw Steve and Peter holding hands in the hall and it was embarrassing, but every time Tony saw them kiss he always ducked down another hallway and every time he saw one of those stupid posters promoting them as Couple of the Year, he drew devil horns and stink lines over Peter’s name.

So alright, maybe Tony hadn’t ran all the angst out. Maybe he still dreamt about their summer and woke up reaching for Steve, maybe he’d let himself imagine taking Steve to the dance and wow-ing the pretty blond with all his dance moves and stealing a kiss under the stars. Maybe he’d written out a couple dozen apology letters and then thrown them all away, maybe Tony still wasn’t over Steve and maybe none of the running in the world would change--

Tony’s steady pace slowed and faltered when the football team started trickling onto the field. Usually he was done and gone by the time Peter and his goons showed up for practice. He must have ran too long today because usually he wasn’t here when 

Oh damn. 

Oh no no no.

“Are you going to break your record today?” Steve was stopped at the bottom bleacher, wiping a smudge from Peter’s helmet before handing it back. “How many yards have you thrown this season for practice?” 

Tony missed whatever Peter answered, his attention held fast by the way Steve’s eyes lit up in excitement, the way he smiled like it was the most impressed he’d ever been. Damn he missed that look and damn he missed that smile. Missed the way Steve’s eyes shone with admiration and the way his hands had always been so eager to hold Tony’s and the way he--

Tony shook himself from the thoughts when he realized he’d stopped running altogether and had come to a stop right in front of Peter and Steve. 

“...Tony?” Steve was leaning back into Peter’s arms, tipping his cheek back for a kiss, but he paused when he saw Tony. “What um-- what are you doing out here?” 

Tony took off running again. He didn’t know what to say and he didn’t know what he wanted to say, so he just took off running, picking up speed until he was practically sprinting down the track towards the hurdles as if he could outrun just how much it sucked to see Peter kissing Steve.

“Huh.” Steve watched Tony run for a minute, and Peter asked, “What’s up, babe?” 

“Oh nothing.” Steve tried to sound casual but knew he didn’t quite manage it when Peter frowned a little. “No, it’s nothing. I just didn’t know Tony joined the track team. Or ran long distance. Or did hurdles. Or exercised… like at all. He was never one to-- OH NO!” 

Steve cried out when Tony took on a too high hurdle and face planted on the track, splatting hard before rolling a few feet and finally skidding to a stop, groaning loud enough to be heard clear in the bleachers. 

“Oh no, I have to help him, I got to help him, give me a second--” Steve jumped the barrier of the bleachers and landed on the field, running towards Tony to check on him. “Tony? Tony are you okay?” 

“M’fine.” Tony popped to his feet and dusted the gravel from his sweats, sniffing as he checked his nose for blood. “Go away. M’fine.” Hurt leeched into his words, hurt and embarrassment and Tony hated that just being close to Steve like this made his hands shaky. “Back off, Steve. Go back to your himbo.” 

“Um--” Steve spread his hands helplessly. “My what? Go back to my what?” 

“I said what I said.” Tony swallowed hard and paced a few steps down the track. “What do you want?” 

“I just wanted to check on you.” Steve was even worse than Tony at hiding his feelings, and the look in his eyes was damn near heartbreaking. “I just-- are you sure you’re alright?” 

Tony didn’t mean to snarl, but it came out anyway, “What do you care?” 

“Well I-- I--” Steve folded his arms and chewed at his bottom lip anxiously. “Tony, I--” 

Hope, flaring barely there and flickering as Tony asked, “You what, Steve?” 

“I miss you, you know.” Steve said in a near whisper and Tony really thought his knees would give out. 

“You... you miss me?” 

“I miss the version of you I knew.” Steve amended in that same soft tone. “I miss you a lot. Like every day.” 

“...I miss you too.” There, the most honest thing Tony said since the night at the bonfire. “Holy shit Steve, I miss you so much.” 

“Yeah?” The beautiful blond’s eyes widened. “You do? Cos I miss you like crazy. I know I’m with Peter right now but Tony, I would--” 

“Go to the dance with me!” Tony blurted and Steve’s mouth fell open. “Please? Please go to the dance with me. I know you’re with Peter and I’m sure he’s a way better boyfriend than I ever was and I’m sorry for everything but damn it sweetheart, it's killing me to be away from you.”

Tony wet his lips nervously and slowed down, forcing himself to breathe. “Can we try again? Will you give me another chance?” 

“Oh.” Steve jolted forward like he was going in for a kiss, but stopped himself at the last minute, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Tony, I’d never want to go to that dance with anyone else. I mean, you need to let me break it off with Peter before I can say yes officially, cos that’s the right thing to do.” 

The smile got a little brighter as Steve reached for Tony’s hand. “But you’re the only one I’d want to go to the Winter Formal with. I don’t care if the entire school thinks me and Peter are a perfect couple. I only ever want you.” 

“Okay.” Tony’s throat closed up over what was definitely not tears, he was definitely not going to cry, he was not going to cry-- “Okay um-- that’s um--” he cleared his throat. “That’s great. Cool beans. Really. Nice. That’s-- that’s nice.” 

“Tony.” Steve whispered. “Just tell me what you’re really feeling. Please? You don’t have to be cool or whatever, just be you.” 

“I’m feeling like I’m going to do anything I can to make this up to you.” Tony pressed at Steve’s palm, linked their fingers and pulled Steve closer. “I was a real jerk to you and I’m sorry and one day I promise we can talk about all of it but for right now could we um-- could we--” 

“I have to break up with Peter before you can kiss me.” Steve’s cheeks stained red and Tony bit back a curse as he leaned away again. Steve was right of course, break ups had to happen first but Tony was all of three seconds from combusting. 

“Right.” he nodded quickly but held fast at Steve’s hand when he went to go back to Peter. “I should let go of your hand so you can go break up, huh?” 

“Right.” Steve repeated. “Soooo let go?” 

“I swear I’m trying, sweetheart.” Tony laughed sheepishly. “Dunno why my fingers aren’t listening.” 

“Oh.” Steve blushed again and it was about the prettiest thing Tony had ever seen. “I do like when you call me sweetheart.” 

“Sweetheart.” Tony stepped right back into Steve’s space and pressed their foreheads together, bumping noses teasingly. “Go break up with Goofy Gooberson over there so I can kiss you, alright?” 

“Alright.” Steve said shyly. “I can’t wait.” 

“Oh my god.” Tony breathed out shakily. “Yeah, I can’t wait either.” 

*************

*************

“I don’t want to go in there.” Natasha balked at the door to the ice cream shop and Bucky sent her a strange look. “Don’t look at me like that, Barnes. Take me to the movies or something instead.” 

“I don’t want to go to the movies.” Bucky argued. “I wanna get some ice cream and see my friends. All we ever do is hang out alone, let’s hang out with the gang tonight.” 

“It’s freezing outside, you don’t need ice cream.” Natasha crossed her arms stubbornly. “And we hang out by ourselves because the gang throws things at us if we do what we do in private, in public. Besides, I don’t want to--” 

“Is that Steve and Tony?” Bucky pushed open the door of the shop to get a better look and then whooped out loud. “It is! Tony! You get your boy back?” 

All the way across the diner, Tony looked up with a grin and a wave while Steve ducked his head and blushed, and Natasha hissed, “Look they’re on a date, they don’t want to be disturbed! Let’s just go!” 

“Well we’re on a date too, right? Let’s just make it double.” Bucky grabbed Natasha’s hand and silenced her next protest with a quick kiss. “Come on baby doll, don’t be so difficult, I haven’t seen Tony in ages, come on.” 

Natasha grumbled under her breath but let Bucky tow her across the diner and up to where Steve and Tony were sitting, sharing a milkshake and fries. “Hey kids.” she said with a falsely bright smile. “How’s tricks?” 

“Tony.” Bucky clapped a hand down on Tony’s shoulder. “Bud, where the hell have ya been? What have you been doing?” 

“So many important things.” Tony dipped a fry in the milkshake and fed it to Steve, his smile just this edge of absolutely stupid when Steve ate it right from his fingers. “This has been the best two days of my life. How’s it goin’ with you, Buck? Tasha?” 

“Well we were going to--” Natasha was rudely interrupted when first Sam and then Clint barreled past her to drag some chairs up to the table, and then Thor simply walked through the crowd holding two chairs up above everyone else so Pepper would have some place to sit as she hurried along behind him. Carol climbed between the bars of the little balcony and shoved Valkyrie out of the way to get the last chair, and Valkyrie just huffed and flopped right onto Carol’s lap as revenge. 

“--go to a movie.” Natasha finished. “But sure, hanging out with the entire gang is just as fun as a quiet movie, hm?” 

“Sure it is.” Bucky ignored Natasha’s obvious irritation and spread a few menus around the table. “So what are we eating? Who’s got money?” 

“Don’t look at me.” Pepper scolded when four different heads swiveled her way. “My parents are rich, not me! I don’t know where all my money goes! I bought hot chocolate the other day and paid for pizza last night-- someone else needs to pay!” 

“You got money, baby doll?” Bucky asked and Natasha’s jaw dropped as she cried, “I’m not buying for the whole table!” 

“Oh my god, chill out, I gave you money earlier to get lunch, don’t you have the rest of it?” Bucky scoffed and turned back to Tony. “So hey, we should start working on the car? I’m thinking she needs a name, like Lightning or Sonic or--”

Natasha tuned out the rest of the conversation as Tony and Bucky jumped into car babble and the rest of the group threw around stupid names for the vehicle. Steve looked entranced by the entire conversation, or at least entranced by Tony and for some reason that irritated the hell out of Natasha. 

She dug her compact from her purse and scowled when she saw all the hickeys at her neck, dabbing at them furiously with her cover up until Bucky finally noticed what she was doing and reached out a hand to stop her. “Baby baby baby, what are you doing? You’re spreading powder all over the table, what’s wrong.” 

“I’ve got so many hickeys, I’m starting to look like a leper.” Natasha complained and Bucky did one of those lazy shrugs and drawled, “Well damn sugar, you ride the Bronco and you’re gonna get bruised. Just the nature of the game.” 

“The nature of the--” Natasha snapped her compact closed and curled her lip. “That is disgusting, you sound like an animal.” 

“Oooh, talk dirty to me.” Bucky teased, but his pale eyes flashed in annoyance. “What’s with you tonight? I thought we were supposed to be having a good time and you’re just being a bitch. Is it PMS, you on the rag? Come off it, Tasha. That Ice Queen act gets real cold, real fast.” 

“Ice Queen.” For reasons she wasn’t really ready to explore, the words cut Natasha right to her soul, bringing tears to her eyes. “Aright then, here’s something icy for you, you son of a bitch.” 

She reached out and snatched Thor’s soda before he managed to get a drink and threw it right in Bucky’s face, then ripped Bucky’s jacket from around her shoulders and threw it at him too. “How’s that, Bronco?”

“Tasha!” Bucky howled when the ice hit his face and slid down his neck, the soda soaking his shirt and most likely staining into his jacket. “What the fuck--” Tasha turned on her heel and strode away, flipping him off over her shoulder and Bucky stared after her in shock. “What the fuck? Get back here! Where are you going!” 

“Damn, Buck.” Tony opened his mouth when Steve swirled a fry through their milkshake, then licked Steve’s finger teasingly to get the last bit of ice cream away and smiled when Steve immediately turned bright red. “What the hell was that? What’s going on with you and Tasha?” 

“Fuck if I know.” Bucky scowled and wiped at his shirt. “Gotta get to the bathroom and clean this shit off. “Oh and by the way. Carol? What in the fuck is going on with your hair?” 

“What?” Carol ran her hand over her nearly shaven head, a tuft of blond hair still flopping long into her eyes. “I sorta like it. Thor says it looks great. Very in fashion right now.” 

“Maybe on like... certain types of dogs...” Clint said slowly, and Sam patted Thor sympathetically, “Beauty school is just kicking your butt isn’t it?” 

The still pink haired giant scowled, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“If it’s any consolation Thor, I think you look nice with pink hair.” Steve spoke up. “I think it suits you, makes your eyes look extra blue.”  

Thor preened a little and Steve looked up in surprise when Tony kicked at his foot. “What?” 

“Nothing, I just forgot how sweet you are.” Tony had a curious look in his eyes that Steve couldn’t quite read. “It's um-- it’s nice. Most of my friends are jerks, but you are just genuinely sweet.”

“You’re sweet too.” Steve leaned over the table and left a soft kiss on Tony’s cheek before going back to talking about pink hair and unfortunate styling, and Tony rubbed at his cheek a few times, frowning a little. 

He really had forgotten how sweet Steve was. Sweet and a little naive and the sort of person that Tony wouldn’t ever look twice at on a normal day and yet somehow Steve was everything he wanted and it made no sense at all. 

How was Steve going to fit into his life? What happened if Steve found out about the rest of Tony’s reputation, how he’d hooked up with all those people and flunked a few classes and how he skipped more often than not and smoked where he wasn’t supposed to. Would Steve run away?

Or would Tony have to leave everything about himself behind to fit into Steve’s world? No more leather jackets? No more smoking? Would he have to be an athlete forever and get good grades and have tea with parents on Sunday and--

“Honey?” Steve tapped at Tony’s hand. “Are you okay? You look like you’re panicking all the sudden.”

“I’m-- I’m fine.” Tony gulped and sternly reminded himself Steve is worth changing for. “I’m fine babe. Let’s talk about what we’re wearing to the dance.” 

Steve lit up in excitement, and that was enough to make Tony put those other more distressing thoughts to rest as the conversation took a turn towards dresses and coordinating suits. 

Outside the diner, Natasha finished her cigarette and tossed it aside, folding her arms against the night chill as she set off walking alone. She hadn’t expected Bucky to come after her, hell she probably would have laughed in his face if he had but all the same….

...all the same it would have been nice to think he cared she was upset. 

Natasha didn’t even know what she upset about. It could have been her period, it might have been failing that test yesterday. Hell, it could be that Bucky had pulled her close and told she was beautiful and that he was damn lucky to know her. That sounded an awful lot like feelings and Natasha didn’t want to say she’d panicked but yeah, she’d panicked and now---

A car horn startled her, and Natasha took a step back from the road as a sleek black convertible slowed to a stop beside her, the window rolling down and a voice calling, “Natasha Romanov. I thought Tony Stark and that moron Bronco were trading you back and forth, how come you’re out walking alone on a Friday night?” 

“Bruce Wayne.” Natasha said coolly, leaning down to look into the passenger side window. “What are you doing on our side of the bay? The rich girls at the Academy had enough of your bullshit so you gotta slum it in Andover?” 

“Sure doesn’t feel like slumming when you’re the sorta beauty I get to find.” Bruce was all dark hair and darker eyes, expensive cologne and trust fund clothing, a smirk on his face that spoke of sheer arrogance and enough money in his wallet to get whatever he wanted. Usually he only came around to stir up trouble but tonight he looked more interested in company. “You up for a ride, babe?” 

Natasha wasn’t up for a ride, but her options for the night were either hanging out with Bruce Wayne or sitting at home hating herself for crying over Bucky and honestly, Bruce was the lesser of those two evils.

So when Bruce opened the door of that fancy car and motioned for her, Natasha glanced back at the diner one more time and then slid right inside, leaning over and planting a kiss on Bruce’s cheek. 

“See there, that’s better than wandering around in the cold, don’t you think?” Bruce’s hand was warm and heavy on her leg. “What say we go get lost for a while, you want to see a movie or something?” 

“I’d love to see a movie.” Natasha settled back into the leather seats and closed her eyes. “I’d also like a new dress for the Winter Formal.” 

“Gonna be like that, huh?” Bruce chuckled and rubbed at her thigh. “That’s alright. I’ll buy you a real pretty dress, baby doll. Let’s go.” 

**********

It took less than twenty four hours for word to spread that Natasha and Bucky had broken up, and by the end of the next day, everyone knew that Natasha was bringing Bruce Wayne to the Winter Formal. 

Bucky was so mad he was practically snarling, pacing in the garage and kicking at the cars fender until Tony finally peeled himself away from Steve and pushed Bucky away from the car. “Damn Buck. The car didn’t do nothing to you, calm the hell down.” 

“Calm the hell down?” Bucky growled. “My girl is out there messin’ around with Bruce fuckin’ Wayne? That posh brat will use her and leave her when he goes back to the rich dames at the Academy and then what? Then I’m sposed to get back together with that asshole’s sloppy seconds--” 

Steve gasped quietly over the vulgarity and Bucky held up a hand apologetically. “Sorry Steve, s’just-- it ain’t right!” 

“You love Tasha, Bucky?” Tony asked, and then ducked when a bucket went flying towards the garage wall, Bucky bellowing, “THE HELL I DO! I don’t love that girl! I’ll show her! She’s gonna step out on me with Bruce fuckin’ Wayne, fuckin’ rich kid I can’t fuckin’ stand him---”

Bucky stormed into the house still swearing up a storm and Tony leaned up and kissed Steve’s horrified expression away. “Don't worry about him, sweetheart. He’s just cranky but he’ll be over it by the dance.” 

“You think so?” Steve shivered when Tony came back for another kiss and jumped a little when Tony’s hands crept down over his rear. “Tony! What are you doing!”  

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna grope you here in Bucky’s garage.” Tony winked. “And yeah, Bucky will be fine, you’ll see. This dance is gonna be real fun and super romantic and um--” the third kiss was even longer than the second, Tony slipping his tongue over the seam of Steve’s lips and letting his fingers dig into the big blond’s waist. “--maybe we can... you know...?”

“Oh.” Steve sucked in a quick breath, his heart pounding as Tony slid kisses down his throat and to his shoulder. “T-Tony. Wow.” 

“Mmm.” Tony sighed into Steve’s skin and smiled when Steve broke out into goosebumps. “S’gonna be a good time together, I promise. We’re gonna--” 

“DON’T DO THAT IN HERE!” Bucky sounded positively scandalized as he winged a greasy rag at the pair and Tony burst into laughter. “You are not gonna get down in my garage! Get out! What the hell!” 

“Come on, babe.” Tony grabbed Steve’s hand and ran away still laughing. “He’ll be fine by the dance, I promise.” 

**************

**************

Bucky was not in fact fine by the dance, and when he swaggered through the doors of Andover High with his shirt unbuttoned to his navel and his arm around one Loki “Cha Cha” Laufeyson, everyone in the gym stopped and stared. 

And Natasha who was snuggled into Bruce’s side wearing a rather low cut dress of her own didn’t know if she wanted to scream over the sight or burst into tears, so instead she just glared daggers at Loki as they leaned in and whispered something into Bucky’s ear. 

“Oh, who’s that with Bucky?” Steve pinned a pink rose to his shirt, smiling when he saw how perfectly it matched Tony’s tie. “They’re pretty, look at their hair. And oh wow, that dress.” 

“Eh, Bucky’s probably just trying to make Natasha jealous by bringing someone fancy.” Tony leaned down and wiped a spot from his shoes, then straightened up and dotted a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “I’m sure they aren’t half as pretty as you, though.” 

“You didn’t even look at them.” Steve pointed out, straightening the lapels of Tony’s jacket. “So how do you know?” 

“Cos you’re the most gorgeous person in any room, ever.” Tony said confidently. “We’re gonna tear it up tonight, sweetheart. Then I’m gonna take you for a drive and kiss you beneath the stars, alright?” 

“Tony.” Bucky came over then, cutting his eyes over at Natasha and letting his hand drop lower than was strictly necessary over his date’s lean frame. “What’s up, bud? You remember Loki, right?”

“Oh.” Tony’s eyes bugged out, any bit of color leaving his face as he dropped Steve’s hand. “That is um-- yep, I uh-- Lo--Loki. Uh. Hey.

Loki narrowed brilliantly green eyes in Steve’s direction and then parted glittered lips to practically purr, “Anthony. How nice to see you again. And wearing so many clothes this time! I hardly recognized you.”  

Tony made a horrified sort of noise and Loki’s mouth tipped up into a near vicious smile as they looked Steve over. “You must be Steven, Bucky’s told me so much about you. My name is Loki, but they call me Cha Cha.”

“Why--” Steve wet his lips anxiously, watching out of the corner of his eye as Tony seemed to grow more and more agitated. “Why do they call you Cha Cha.” 

“Cos I’m the best dancer this side of the bay.” Loki twitched the skirt of their dress out until it flared high around their shapely legs, baring a shocking amount of skin and a hint of lace far enough up their thigh to make Bucky whistle. “Or hasn’t Anthony told you?” 

“Anthony?” Steve repeated. “You call him--Tony, they call you Anthony?” 

“It’s um-- it’s an old nickname.” Tony muttered and grabbed at Steve’s hand to lead him away. “C’mon babe, let’s get out of here. We can dance on this side of the gym, way the hell away from Loki and Buck, come on.” 

“Wait wait wait, Bucky brought Cha Cha?” Carol and Valkyrie joined them before Tony could make an escape, both girls with arms full of snacks and effectively blocking their route. “That seems bold, right? Are you okay Tony?” 

“Why-why-why--” Tony loosened the collar on his shirt and swore. “Fuck it’s hot in here. Um, why wouldn’t I be okay?” 

“Um.” Valkyrie made a gesture towards Loki. “Because they showed up wearing the same dress they wore when you and the Bronco--” 

“Enough.” Thor clapped a huge hand over Valkyrie’s mouth, effectively shutting her up. “Don’t worry Steven. Loki might be the best dancer on this side of the bay, but they have the worst reputation and it is well earned, if you know what I mean.” 

“I don’t think I know what you mean.” Steve shot an uncomfortable look at Tony. “Tony, what does that mean?” 

“We should get some punch.” Tony said quickly. “Who’s thirsty?” 

“We talking about Cha Cha?” Clint came up holding a thermos that was certainly not full of punch. “Tony, isn’t that the same dress they were wearing when you and Bronco--glmph!” 

“Enough, Clint.” Thor covered Clint’s mouth with his other hand and sent a pained smile towards Sam as he wandered over with Pepper. “Let’s not talk about Cha Cha, hm?” 

“Who wants to talk about Cha Cha?” Pepper snorted, craning her neck every which way to try and catch a glimpse of televisions favorite host, Justin Hammer. “Even if they are wearing that stupid, slutty dress. Poor Tasha, I bet Bruce spent a bunch of money on her dress and then Bucky brings Loki along looking like they did the night Bucky and Tony--” 

“I don’t have enough hands to shut you up too!” Thor cried and when Pepper wrinkled her pretty nose in confusion, Thor tilted his head towards Steve. “Shut up, Pepper!” 

“Oh. Oh Steve.” Pepper audibly gulped when she saw how upset Steve was and how increasingly nervous Tony looked. “Oh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Cha Cha is-- I mean Loki is-- well they are--oh! Oh my god, there’s Justin!” 

Just that fast Pepper was gone in a whirl of perfume, balancing on her high heels and holding up the length of her gown as she hurried to meet the celebrity, and Carol snorted, “All she’s talked about all damn day was how grown up she wants to look so Justin will want to put her on the talent show. She can’t sing worth a damn but maybe the padded bra is enough to get her on TV.” 

Everyone except for Tony and Steve laughed. Tony was busy stealing looks at Bucky and Loki over his shoulder, and Steve was just staring at Tony in confusion and maybe even a little bit of fear. 

Loki was gorgeous, all long limbs and porcelain skin, knowing smiles and flashing eyes and there was something about their voice that spoke of private moments and long nights and the sort of kisses Steve had no idea how to give. 

If they were who Tony usually spent his time with, what the hell did Tony see in Steve? How long would it be before he got tired of being with a goody two shoes and went back?

“Can I talk to you?” Steve finally asked and when Tony didn’t turn around, Steve tugged at his sleeve impatiently. “Tony! Can I talk to you?” 

“Yeah sweetheart.” Tony’s head snapped around and he attempted a smile up at Steve. “What is it? What’s on your mind?” 

“Come here.” Steve laced their fingers together and pulled Tony towards a quieter part of the gym, ducking behind the row of bleachers that had been pulled out for extra seating. “Tony,  did you and Cha Cha-- Tony!” 

He raised his voice when he noticed Tony still wasn’t looking at him. “Tony! Stop staring at them for two seconds and listen to me!” 

“I’m sorry.” Tony said quickly, forcing his attention off the distracting brunette and on to Steve. “What’s wrong Steve, what’s going on? You aren’t having a good time?” 

“How could I be having a good time?” Steve asked blankly. “You’ve spent the last few minutes staring after Loki and they keep smiling at you like they know something I never will. Did you and Loki go out?” 

“Oh god, no we didn’t go out.” Tony shook his head adamantly. “No it wasn’t like that, we definitely did not date or anything like that. What um-- what we did? Not dating.” 

“Well then what’s going on?” Steve pressed. “And what’s the story with the dress? Why did Thor keep trying to shut everyone up?” 

“Hey.” Tony squeezed at Steve’s hand. “Hey it’s-- it’s nothing. It’s nothing, Steve. It was just one time with Loki. Okay, I mean it was a few times with Loki, but we never went out, we just sorta-- we just sort hung out, you know?” 

“That’s the same thing.” Steve protested and Tony insisted, “It’s really not. You and I are going together, we’re dating. But what happened with Loki is-- I mean it was--” he stole a quick look around the bleachers to where Bucky was spinning Loki across the floor, the damnable skirt flying up around Loki’s hips. “It was uh--just don’t worry about it, okay?” 

“Oh.” Realization and something else awful flickered across Steve’s face, his heart sinking as he suddenly knew. “I see.” 

“What?” Tony stepped closer and lowered his voice. “No no, you’re looking at me all crazy, Steve. It’s not what you’re thinking.” 

“No?” Steve pulled away from Tony and put his hands in his pocket, hunching his shoulders. “I’m thinking that how you acted at the bonfire makes a lot more sense now that I know Loki is the type of person you usually date.” 

“Wait.” Tony blinked. “What?” 

“Obviously you and Loki did all the things together that you and I don’t.” Steve said helplessly. “You said that I had a ten o clock curfew and you had a whole other life after that and no one else was even surprised. It’s because of this, isn’t it?” 

He motioned to the dance floor. “You and Loki together, and I know about you and Natasha.” he nodded when Tony’s eyes widened. “I know about Natasha. Do you and Bucky--” Steve sounded like he could barely get the words out. “You did something together with Loki, did you do that sort of thing with Tasha? Were you planning on sharing me with Bucky too?” 

“It’s not like that!” Tony snapped, and Steve snapped right back, “Stop lying, Tony! Obviously there’s this whole other side to you that I have no clue about!” 

“It’s not lying just because I haven’t told you everything!” Tony nearly shouted. “Do you really want to know about all the people I’ve slept with? Why does it even matter! It’s just sex! Sex and there was alcohol and things got crazy but none of it mattered the next day!” 

“That’s awful.” Steve’s face went very white. “It’s awful if you think se--if you think you can do that with someone and it wouldn’t matter.” and then sounding as if he wanted to cry, “If we would have done it this summer, it wouldn’t have mattered? I’d be someone you avoided at dances and that all your friends laughed about? Everyone knows what happened with you and Loki, would that be me? Would I be the person gossiped about and laughed at because I was stupid enough to-- to do that with you?” 

“If you and I would have--” Tony clenched his jaw and prayed for patience. “It would have mattered Steve. It still does. It will be different with you, not just sex. I promise. You mean so much to me. It could never just be sex. Not with you, not between us.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Steve whispered, and Tony felt the words like a physical slap. “Because every time I learn more about you, you get further and further away from who I thought you were. I could handle you wearing leather jackets and I didn’t know you smoked but I sort of like the way cloves taste. I can handle that but I can’t handle--” 

He motioned towards the dance floor. “You fooled around with Natasha and never called her back, left her alone cos you were hanging out with me. Carol told me all about it. And then with Loki, or Cha Cha or whoever the hell they are, it was you and Bucky? What’s the story with the dress? Do I even want to know?” 

“...no.” Tony admitted and Steve’s face crumpled. “But I’m not like that anymore, Steve. That was just stupid stuff, but I promise, I promise being with you made me not want that anymore.” 

“...I don’t believe you.” Steve said again, and it hurt just as bad as the first time. “Because it hasn’t been all that long, has it? Nobody changes from doing that sort of thing to being fine with just a few kisses. You can’t go from this person, to being who you were at the beach and then back to this person again all that fast. Somewhere along the line you are lying about who you are.”

“Steve--” 

“This was a mistake.” A tear slipped down Steve’s cheek, blotting onto his new shirt. “I don't want to be someone everyone gossips about because I went with Tony Stark. I don’t want to be laughed about over ice cream or avoided at dances or pitied because I thought I knew you and everyone else knew who you really were.” 

“Steve.” 

“Who are you, Tony? I don’t know this version of you.” Another tear and Steve didn’t wipe it away. “And I don’t really like it.” 

“Well what if this is the only version of me?” Tony thought he could be sick watching the heartbreak in Steve’s beautiful eyes. “What if this is just me? Yeah, I went with Loki and yeah me and Tasha had some fun. No, I never called them and sure, it was just sex, it didn’t matter at all, didn’t matter one bit but that doesn’t mean what you and I have doesn’t matter. So what if I wear leather jackets now, it doesn’t change who I am underneath, does it? I’m still me, Steve. I’m still Tony and I still love you. You’re telling me you can’t look past all that to see who we were this summer?” 

Steve stayed quiet and Tony nearly pleaded, “I’m not real proud of how I acted before, but it was all before, alright? Underneath all this and all the rumours or whatever-- Steve, I’m still me. The clothes and school and how I acted at the bonfire, I was an asshole and I’m sorry. But that doesn’t matter in the long run, I’m still me. Can’t you see that?” 

“I feel like you tricked me into loving you.” Steve swallowed back what might have been a sob and shook his head. “Because I never would have loved this Tony Stark at all.” 

Steve turned and fled from the gym and Tony made it two steps into chasing him before slim fingers closed around his arm and Loki pulled him back. “Leaving so soon, Tony?” they asked with a wicked smile. “Why so serious? Come and dance with me.” 

“Lo, you look amazing tonight.” Tony sort of hated that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the length of leg showing beneath the split in Loki’s skirt. “But I gotta go after Steve. I have to. He’s all freaked out about--”

“--about who you are?” Loki interrupted smoothly. “If he can’t handle you then maybe you should spend time with people who can.” 

“...I’m willing to change, though.” Tony stared at the gym doors. “I could change for him.” 

“Maybe he should change for you.” They pointed out, and Tony frowned. “If he wants to keep you, I mean. But it sure doesn’t seem like he wants to keep you, if he can’t handle being in the same room as someone who’s seen you naked.” 

Loki winked to ease the sting of the words. They didn’t mean anything awful by it, not really. Loki didn’t go to the school and ignored all sorts of social conventions and had the unnerving habit of speaking their mind constantly, but they were rarely mean and they weren’t trying to be mean right now, so Tony softened a little under their smile. 

“So what, you pretended to be a good boy to get into his pants and it didn’t work? It’s time to stop pretending and just dance with me.” 

“...I should go after him.” Tony said quietly. “I should--” 

I never would have loved this Tony Stark.

“Actually, you know what?” Tony was just hurt enough, just brittle enough to take Loki’s hand. “We should dance. Wanna show these kids how we can burn up a dance floor?” 

“Always.” Loki twirled their skirts and Tony snatched them up against their body, moving them in a slow grind to the music pounding over the speakers. “Mmmm, see I like this Tony Stark just fine. No reason to change at all.”

“Yeah.” Tony skated his hands down Loki’s back and tried to smile when the gorgeous brunette only sashayed closer. “No reason to change. This is fine.” 

“This is not fine.” Bucky disagreed, watching in distaste as Loki and Tony danced. “M’not just sayin’ it cos Loki came as my date, hell I don’t care if Tony dances with them, fuckin’ free game. But this is not fine. Tony belongs with Steve, not with Cha Cha. And Pepper’s off there trying to get up with Justin Hammer and--” 

Screeching laughter suddenly erupted across the gym, and they all turned in time to see Pepper nearly falling over her heels as she stumbled back towards them, her hands over her mouth to try and quiet her laughter. 

“Oh my god!” she gasped as she finally made it to the group. “Oh my god you are never going to believe-- I can’t even-- okay seriously, you guys--” 

“Pep?” Clint held the pretty redhead steady as she collapsed into giggles again. “What’s up?” 

“He’s shorter than me!” Pepper practically screamed. “Justin Hammer is shorter than me! He had to look up at me and then tried to tell me--” she finally kicked off her heels and settled barefoot on the floor. “Oh my god, he looked up at me and said ‘well from down here, your talent sure is obvious’ and I--” 

This time when she laughed the entire group joined in. “I can’t-- he said-- oh my god--from down here! What in the hell?” 

“Hey you know what we should do?” Valkyrie took the thermos from Clint and sloshed the contents around. “To get back at Hammer for being fucking creepy and weirdly short, we should all moon the camera when it goes around the gym, get our butts broadcast on national television.”

“Oh, I’d have to be very drunk for that.” Pepper decided and Sam whooped, “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” 

Across the gym, Bruce hugged Natasha a little closer to his side and commented, “Your friends are a little wild.” 

“Yep.” Natasha watched them all laughing, and swallowed back a jolt of misery when she saw Bucky grin down at Pepper. “Yeah, they sort of are.” 

“If you want--” 

“Let’s get out of here.” Natasha interrupted and pushed Bruce towards the door. “Let’s just.. let’s just go. I don’t want to be here.” 

***************

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

***************

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[finnwolfhard7137]

The Art of Falling in Love-Finn Wolfhard

Chapter Five is here...

Chapter Six: The Grand Canyon

Chapter Seven is coming soon...

Word Count 2k

Warnings: Cussing, Pure Fluff

When you awake, you feel the sense of two arms tightly wrapping around your torso. Some black curls were tickling your neck but you do not move, you simply sigh in peace. You reach down to the floor and grab your phone, viewing the time: 10:13 a.m. You unlock it and text your mother a good morning text. By the time the message delivers, Finn's arms move and he rolls you over. 

Finn "Mornin' babes." He places a kiss to your forehead.

"Morning babe, how did you sleep?"

Finn "Fucking amazing," you both start laughing, "How 'bout you?"

"Really good...I don't even remember what we fell asleep to-"

Finn "It-oh wait…" he thinks for a moment, while you twirl one of his curls. "OH! The Office!"

"Oh yeah! As soon as we hit the bed I was out."

Finn "I know, as soon as I have you in my arms, I am just so content that-" you stop his sentence by crashing your lips to his. He kisses you back with pure love and affection. Using his thumb to trace design patterns on your cheek. When he pulls away, he kisses the tip of your nose as you giggle.

Finn "I think you already know what I was gonna say, don't you?"

"Yeah, and I feel the same way." He kisses you once more, before rolling out of the bed. 

When you two get dressed and cleaned up, Oakes knocks on Finn's trailer door.

Finn "Come in, Oakes!"

Oakes "Hey! How was you guys' night?"

"Really good, and yours?"

Oakes "I didn't stay up past 9…"

Finn "So pretty fucking good?"

Oakes "Yeah dude! I haven't slept that good in a while." 

Finn "We can say the same. Are you ready for going out today?"

Oakes "Uh yeah, I think so. Are we coming back tonight? Cause if not, I need to pack." He laughs.

Finn "Nah we will come back. I just wanna go to the grand canyon! I mean we are in Las Vegas...we have to!"

"I've never been, so I'm down!"

Oakes "Okay, then yeah I'm ready."

Finn "Okay, let's go."

__________________________________

Since we were already deep in the desert, it only took an hour and a half to reach the canyons. 

Finn "We are almost at the park, you guys see it?!"

"Yeah!"

Oakes "You can tell by the way the valleys are getting taller and then deeper."

Finn "Oh, I see where we can park!" 

Once he parks the car, you jump out of the car in excitement. You feel like a kid at the amusement park. You hear Finn laughing at you, making you blush and stick your tongue out at him.

Oakes "Alright, you lead the way Finn. You've been here like what...eighty times?"

Finn flips him off, "No! Like twice." He puts his backpack on his back: that is filled with water's and snacks. You wait for him to get situated and then he walks right next to you, grabbing your hand in his. 

Oakes chuckles "damn..I should have thought this through."

"What do you mean?"

Oakes "I am third wheeling so hard right now!" You laugh into Finn's side and he laughs with you. You didn't think about that either, making you feel kind of bad.

Finn "Here, you wanna hold my other hand?"

Oakes "Fuck you." 

…

You guys walk for about ten minutes until you reach the sightsee spot of the canyon: the ooh aah point.

"Oh..my god."

Finn "Beautiful right?"

"Yeah, I've seen so many photos but nothing compares to seeing it in person."

Oakes is already taking pictures of the view while you and Finn take it all in first. The birds are flying above, some below the canyons. You spot a river and immediately feel the need to go down and see it.

"Can we go down there?"

Finn "Yeah, of course. It'll take a bit to hike all the way down but we'll get there."

"Okay."

Oakes "It is so beautiful out for this!"

Finn "I know! The last time I was here, it had to be over ninety degrees, it was miserable. Today is perfect though."

You take so many photos: some zoomed in and some capturing the whole view. Once you all are done that, you head in the other direction to find a path that leads down to the river.

You three hike for almost four miles before taking a snack break. Where you three settle at, was breathtaking: a curve in the canyon, overlooking the vast hills. Finn sits first, taking off the backpack and sitting it in front of him. You form a circle around him, unpacking the goodies that you guys brought.

Oakes "I feel like my legs aren't gonna work tomorrow.."

"That's a promise."

Finn "Hey, it's worth it-" You look where he points, "Look at our view."

"Yeah, totally worth it babe. Thank you for taking us."

Oakes "Yeah, thanks man."

Finn "No problem. When we go to Amsterdam, we should go sightseeing there too."

"We definitely should! We can see everything because we aren't filming."

Oakes "That's right, I forgot. John literally just invited us...that like never happens."

Finn "Well we're special that's why."

Oakes "True that, we are the best. No one can tell me otherwise." After you guys take a long break, Finn gets up and puts his backpack back on.

"You want me to carry it this time?"

Finn "No, babe. I got it, I want you to have a good experience, not a backache."

"I've carried heavier, let me help please. You've been carrying it for over five miles." He hesitates but eventually gives in.

Finn "Fine but if it starts to bother you, give it back or give it to Oakes."

Oakes "Yeah Y/n, I don't mind taking a turn." 

"Okay, let's go!"

…

By the time you, Finn and Oakes reach the water, you all fall to your knees from exhaustion. You are out of breath and your ankles are giving out. Finn pulls you into his side for you to lean on him for support.

Oakes "Holy shit guys...how the fuck are we going to get back to the car?!"

"Oh fuck.."

Finn chuckles, out of breath "Well it'll just take us longer but we'll get there."

"We have to rest all day tomorrow."

Finn "Babe, I'll carry you all day tomorrow if you can't walk." You giggle and kiss his cheek, when you pull back he kisses your lips. Oakes leaves you two so that you guys can have a moment. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he holds you from behind. The river is going slow and the sound is mesmerizing. The water is so blue it is shocking. 

Finn "Y'know that river is beautiful but you are way more beautiful than any sight I have ever seen baby."

"You are so cheesey!"

Finn "Yeah but you love me for it."

"I do." He kisses your lips and then helps you up off of the dirt. Oakes walks closer and closer to the water, bends down and puts his hand in the stream.

Oakes "Guys.."

"Hmm?"

Oakes "It's so nice.." 

"Really?"

Oakes "Yeah..it's not freezing or too warm!" Finn looks at Oakes and then at you and smirks. You all strip down to your underwear (thank god you wore a bra today..) and jump into the lake.

"Shit you're right!" 

Oakes "I told you!"

Finn "God we needed this.."

Oakes "Damn right. I was like, fuck I need to cool off..so I stuck my hand in and I was like...oh hell yeah!" You three laugh and enjoy the sunset in the perfect river. The sky was orange and yellow. Fading perfectly together and you take in this amazing moment with your best friend and your boyfriend. 

Finn "Hey Oakes, think fast!" He splashes him so quick that he couldn't even comprehend what Finn was doing. 

Oakes "Ah, you fucker!" As you could imagine, this turned into a splashing battle. You guys are literally having a water fight in a river in the grand canyon...talk about a perfect evening.

After the swim, you three dry off in the last bit of sun that you had left and put your clothes back on and head back to the car.

__________________________________

Eight full miles later, it is dark out and you three are absolutely exhausted. 

Finn "Well it's a good thing that we didn't have to drive too far to get here in the first place."

Oakes "That's true. I had fun today, Finn. Thanks for inviting me, I know you didn't have to do that."

Finn "Of course, Oakes. I'll always invite you if it isn't our date night."

Oakes "Thanks." Once you get in the passenger seat, your legs go completely numb. You think to yourself, well Finn might just have to carry me all day tomorrow.

…

Oakes fell asleep in the backseat while Finn drove us back to the trailer park. You stayed awake with Finn, talking about how amazing today was and how relaxing tomorrow will be. The radio was low, just high enough for you and Finn to hear. The windows were down and the moon was shining bright. Finn's hand rested on your thigh as he continued to drive.

Finn "Wake up Oakes..we're home."

Oakes "Oh shit...sorry for falling asleep."

Finn laughs, "It's fine man, go on, go to bed we'll see you tomorrow."

Oakes "Good night guys."

You and Finn "Night!"

Once Oakes gets into his trailer, Finn notices your struggle to walk.

Finn "Hey, you stay right there."

"Huh?"

Finn "Just do it." He laughs and kisses your forehead and walks into the trailer while you lean against his old jeep. You wait for him to come out and you look at him confused, until he swiftly picks you up: bridal style.

"Aw babe.."

Finn "I told you I would, babe." 

"You're too good to me, Finn."

Finn "Only because you mean the world to me."

"You mean the most to me, Finn" He kisses your lips quickly and then gets you two into his trailer. He places you down on the bed and starts to head out the door again. "Where ya goin'?"

Finn "I gotta get my baby clean clothes. Anything you want in particular?"

"No, you can just surprise me. Thank you."

Finn "No problem." 

You can't get over how sweet he is to you. He has only treated you with such kindness, love and respect. You aren't used to getting this much love and attention because your past relationships were horrible. The guys were absent most of the time, barely showing you affection. They were barely boyfriend's because they didn't really treat you like Finn treats you. When Finn returns, he is holding the pair of pajamas that he met you in. 

"....Finn-"

Finn "I told you, babe. You looked great." You almost tear up because he is literally the sweetest guy you have ever met. You quickly put them on and he takes in your appearance. "Yup..just as perfect as I remembered."

"You're just saying that-"

Finn "No I'm not, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever met Y/n. You could literally be wearing a trash bag and I'd show you off like you're a model on the runway."

"How did I get so lucky with you, babe?"

Finn "I personally think that it is fate. This is the art of falling in love, angel. It is unpredictable."

"You are so right." You walk over and wrap your arms around his neck and he leans down to kiss your lips. 

Finn "Let's get into bed."

"Read my mind." He pulls you onto his chest and you melt into his embrace. 

Finn "Good night, angel."

"Good night." He kisses your forehead and you both fall asleep holding each other. No show on the laptop, no sound at all, just peace and quiet. 

@moriartysringtone7137 @spidey-starky @mariskata @itlittlefangirl @softiediana @saataanaas @gayreddie @okokdot

[fanfic-scribbles]

Lunch Buddy: Chapter Eighteen

Masterlist

<<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>>

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Story Summary: Steve Rogers makes a friend. A prickly, generally people-averse friend, but they’ll both take what they can get.

Quick Facts: Friendship (/Eventual Romance) – Steve Rogers & Reader (leading to Steve Rogers/Reader) – Female Reader

Story Warnings: Reader-insert that verges on OFC, written in 1st person past tense

Chapter 18: Party Hard

Chapter Summary: Steve is a popular guy, whether he wants to be or not. Seeking shelter around Christmas seems appropriate for the season, at least.

Chapter Warnings: Whether the viewpoint character celebrates Christmas or not is left vague (there is a gift exchange but it’s mostly centered on what Steve would celebrate), general time jumps between days are marked with single tildes (~), and at the end there is a change in viewpoint and a change back, marked ~like so~

Chapter Word Count: 5241

A/N: This chapter was a little delayed because it wasn’t working and when I dug into why I found I had issues with the following sections that were mucking up the place. It felt like working out a real big snarl– frustrating and painful at first, but very satisfying when I got to the end of it. And slightly cathartic when I just ripped out the bit that refused to budge. It was fun. I hope you enjoy.

(Minor note: time is left vague but this all starts just a few days after the last chapter and happens over a couple of weeks, ending just before Christmas. I have sort of a fake calendar I’ve done up so the dates make sense to me but I don’t think they’re necessary to understand the chapter. If I’m wrong let me know and I’ll see if I can fix it so it does make sense.)

   ~

   I was having a perfectly pleasant evening at home. I had comfy clothing, I had drinks, I had my phone, I had activities…and I had activities involving my phone.

Me: How’s the party? Steve: Ugh

Bothering Steve would always, no matter what, be fun.

Me: Serves you right Me: trying to guilt-trip me Steve: My only regret is I didn’t guilt you more Steve: I can’t believe you abandoned me to this Me: And I can’t believe you wanted to subject me to that Steve: >:( Steve: I’m reduced to hiding Steve: From a very drunk woman who wants to lean on me Steve: Among other things Steve: Or so she assures me

I felt a flare of something. It wasn’t anything nice.

Me: Hang on Me: Omw Steve: Is that all it takes?

‘Is that all it takes.’ He was such a fuckhead sometimes; maybe that woman could have him– except, no, actually unacceptable. Any potential partners had to understand ‘no means no’ and when to back the fuck off.

Me: Yup Me: There is only so much arm space for clingy bitches Me: And I take up a lot of room Steve: Hey Steve: You are not a bitch Steve: >:( Me: Don’t you frowny-face me mister Me: I am whatever I want to be Me: Deal with it

I added the sunglasses emoji just because.

Steve: Well Steve: I can’t argue that Steve: But I still don’t like it Me: You don’t have to Me: <3 Steve: I guess that’s fair Me: Seriously though Me: Do you want an excuse to leave? Me: I’ll figure one out Steve: It’s okay Steve: I’m going to be up early tomorrow so I’m going to duck out soon Steve: It just would have been more fun with you here

I rolled my eyes. But I smiled.

Me: Well Me: Don’t stay too late, Cinderella Steve: Hm Steve: Better than the old man jokes I guess Me: I would never Me: …Well I guess I might. Too easy though; I like to make an effort Steve: I appreciate your work ethic

The conversation drifted off in drips and drabs, but that night I dreamed of Steve and glass slippers and in the morning I woke with the feeling that nothing had fit quite right.

~

Steve: Guess where I am

I got up and peeked out the window. No bike, but that didn’t necessarily mean no Steve. However I looked around my apartment and cringed at the mess.

Me: If you’re dropping in you better be bringing snacks Steve: I wish

I frowned at my phone. If he wasn’t coming over then why was he…wait a minute. Wait.

Me: No Steve: Yes Me: It’s Thursday Me: Who has a party on Thursday?! Steve: Pepper assures me it’s not technically a party Steve: It’s a small get-together Me: So it’s a small party Steve: Basically Me: We’re going shopping this weekend Me: We need to find you a spine Steve: YOU try telling Pepper no Me: Hey I never said I had a spine Steve: Be grateful Steve: She really tried to get me to invite you Steve: I danced around it. I knew you wouldn’t want to with work tomorrow Me: Yeah, not happening. Thanks Steve: You’re welcome Me: Seriously though Me: How many parties can those people have in one month? Steve: Please don’t ask Steve: I don’t want to find out Me: I hate to be the one to break it to you Me: But it sounds like you’re going to find out Me: Whether you like it or not

He sent me a sad frowny-face and I immediately imagined him making the same expression. I looked up at my ceiling and wondered why it had to be now that I had the most active imagination I’d had since I was seven.

Me: Well Me: If you need a place to hide out from fancy food and grabby people Me: You know where to come Me: I don’t really do fancy food Steve: What about the grabbing?

‘Buddy, I wish,’ I thought and rolled my eyes. He had no idea. And he never would. Hopefully.

Me: I like to think I’m respectful of personal bubbles Steve: Except when I steal your food Me: Well yeah Me: At that point you’re a thief Me: And punishment must be meted out Steve: Crap Steve: Tony saw me, gotta go Me: Good luck Steve: Gee thanks

I sent him a sweet smiley face, because some things just couldn’t be helped.

~

Karma kicked my ass the very next day when I woke up with such a sudden and severe cold that made me call out of work. I was just barely considering getting out of bed for maybe some soup or a slow crawl directly to the morgue when my phone buzzed.

Steve: I think I hate you Me: I didn’t do it Steve: Another party Me: … Me: … Me: Dude Me: It’s ten am? Steve: It’s tonight Me: I’m sick Me: Come over and I’ll cough on you Steve: I can’t get sick Steve: I never thought I’d be sad about that Steve: Wait Steve: You’re sick?

I rolled my eyes. And winced, because that just hurt my fucking head.

Me: Yeah. Staying home today. Steve: Do you need anything? Steve: Help? Food?

I really wished he could stop being so sweet. It was a real fucking problem sometimes– like now, when I could think of a whole list of things I wanted his help with that was just slightly past the friends barrier. Or maybe friends cuddled and I was just out of the loop? I made a mental note to look into that, when I was slightly less disgusting.

Me: No thanks Me: Got medicine, got soup, got bed Me: Just need to decide if I can keep anything down Steve: Oh :( Me: I’ll be okay Me: Just need some sleep to kick this in the ass

And warm arms wrapped around me, but I kept that to myself. Maybe I’d have a nice dream later.

Steve: You do that Steve: Get plenty of rest Steve: And call if you need anything Steve: I will be incredibly motivated as of 9pm tonight Me: Oof Me: I would offer to be your excuse Me: But I’m hoping a cocktail of cough syrup and pain meds will make that way past my bedtime Steve: Stay safe Me: I will. Worrywart Steve: Yup <3

He was trying to kill me; I knew it. However I was so exhausted I just sent him a quick ‘bye’ and crawled back under the covers to be miserable and whiny on my own. Admittedly, ‘on my own’ left much to be desired these days, but I got through it like I always did.

Except for the container of soup from a local Chinese place that somehow made it to my door that afternoon. That was new addition to my ‘get better’ routine. But very much welcome.

~

Steve: Sigh

I already knew what was coming. Mostly because I was trapped in a similar hell.

Me: At least it’s close enough to an appropriate date Steve: I guess Steve: What are you doing? Me: Work holiday party Me: fml

A couple of women greeted each other nearby in tones that varied up and down but they all stayed pretty equally loud, and I ducked closer to the table, under which I hid my phone.

Steve: I guess it’s true Steve: Misery does love company

I sent him a line of middle fingers

Me: How’s YOUR party? Steve: Zzzzzzzzz

I ducked down further to hide my laughter.

Me: Seriously though Me: How many parties can one guy have? Steve: So many, apparently Steve: Last year wasn’t this bad Steve: He did get mildly offended you haven’t been to a one Me: Ugh Me: Wait, sorry Me: I don’t really mean that Me: I just have no idea how to do damage control with that guy Me: I don’t know what his deal is Steve: It’s okay Steve: Neither do I Steve: And he’s mostly joking Steve: I think Me: Good Me: I’d rather get along peaceably with your other friends Steve: Or be friends with them?

I thought about it.

Me: Gotta be honest Me: You have a lot of friends Me: That sounds like a lot of work Steve: They’re not so bad

I heard my name and glanced up to see my boss was looking around.

Me: Well you have fun with them Me: gtg boss is looking for me Steve: Don’t get in trouble Steve: I’ll see you later? Me: Later

My boss caught sight of me just as I was slipping my phone away and I subjected myself to being politely social for the rest of the night. I had…a lot more sympathy for Steve after that.

Not that I would ever let him know it.

~

Steve: Can I come over? Me: Of course

Not one second later I heard the buzzer for the entry go off. I let him up without even looking, so when he actually showed up at the door I froze like a deer in the headlights.

“Hey,” Steve said, his face a mixture of stormy and exhausted and his body clad in a finely (finely) tailored suit. He gave me a tired smile and held up a grocery bag. “I brought payment in snacks.”

Yes. Yes he did. Wait, no, snacks. Plural and actual. Literal. Right. “Sounds, uh, good,” I said and stepped aside to let him in, and I briefly hit my head on the door before I shut it. I turned just in time to see him sit down on my couch like he could sink into it, legs opened up and head thrown back. He shut his eyes and breathed. I took a second to do the same. But he looked so fed up with everything and that ended up being (sadly, selfishly,) good for my focus.

“What happened?” I asked and went to sit next to him as soon as concern won out.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just tired.”

I could only imagine. I reached out and squeezed his shoulder– but my instinct to leave my hand there propelled me up and over to the kitchen counter where I started unpacking the bag he brought. The first thing I pulled out was an interesting looking bag of something labeled entirely in Cyrillic. The very next thing I saw, hiding behind it I realized, was a box wrapped in paper and ribbons. I couldn’t even give him the benefit of the doubt– my name was written right there. “Steve.”

“Yes?” he asked, overly innocently and turned his bright blue eyes to me like he was some naïve young farm boy who couldn’t possibly understand why I said his name like that.

He was getting better. My bullshit meter was going off so hard it nearly broke and he still almost got to me. Still, I surreptitiously cleared my throat and said, (quite strongly, I thought,) “That is not going to work on me.”

He didn’t back down. His eyes even seemed to get bigger and bluer. “It’s a good time of year to get gifts for your friends, even if for no real reason. Besides, it’s just something I saw that I thought you would like. It’s no big deal.”

“Uh huh.” I liked the way he stretched his arm across the couch, and the way he stole glances at me like I wouldn’t notice. Starting off strong, getting weaker by the moment; I needed to tell Natasha to up his spy training. “Real subtle.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said and grabbed the remote. While he pretended to give a shit about holiday programming I rifled through the rest of the bag, dumped the caramel popcorn into a bowl, and took the bowl and the gift over to the couch where I plopped down as hard as I could in an effort to be as annoying as possible. He didn’t even flinch, just smiled as I put the popcorn in between us on the couch. The gift I set in the center of my coffee table, where it actually looked really nice.

“Aren't you going to open it?” Steve asked, trying to look like he was watching Jimmy Stewart get his Christmas miracle but, again, his eyes kept darting; this time between me and the gift.

“Mm.” I shrugged but inside I was taking my inner impatient five-year-old and turning her into a moustache-twirling villain, with the gift tied to the train tracks. It felt good. “It’s a Christmas gift, right?”

“Not necessarily,” he said.

“Well, I think most single gifts get opened on the 25th, so I’ll wait,” I said, grabbed a handful of popcorn, and settled in to enjoy a bell ringing like I never had before.

“It’s a– a December gift,” Steve insisted.

“Oh,” I said. “Then I have until December 31st to open it.”

“It’s A Wonderful Life” suddenly became the title of my night, maybe even my autobiography, when Steve said my name in the whiniest fucking tone I had ever heard outside of a bad comedy sketch about nasally nerds. I almost dropped the popcorn I held and, when I turned my head to stare at him, he was almost literally beet red.

“Can we pretend that didn’t come out like that?” he asked, looking down like he could stare right through the floor. I had never before seen someone who actually looked like they desperately wanted to be swallowed whole. “As a present to me?”

“Wow,” I said, because it was all I could say. Already the sweet sound of memory was fading, and I tried to hold onto it. “I got you an actual present so no. But wow. Wow. Happy holidays to me. Wow.”

“I’m taking my gift back,” he grumbled and made as if to grab it.

I curled forward to protect it but I moved too fast and accidentally dropped some of my snack, though Steve kept me from cracking my head on the table. “Shit,” I said and hurried to pick up the bits of food. “I just cleaned; if you make me get popcorn bits on my floor I’m making you drag out the vacuum.”

“I don’t think your neighbors would appreciate that right now,” Steve said and wolfed down his own heaping handful of the caramel corn, though he put the bowl on the table.

“My downstairs neighbor has a pre-teen who’s getting into EDM,” I said and pulled the gift into my lap. “Let them suffer as I have suffered.”

“Mm hm,” Steve said, already pretty thoroughly checked out as I turned the box over in my hands.

It wasn’t heavy, but it wasn’t tiny, and it was a fairly standard box so I had no idea what it could be. Maddening. I decided to put us both out of our misery.

“Really?” Steve said as I started picking at the tape on the side. “Are you going to save the paper?”

“Weeeeellllll…” I debated whether or not I should admit my failings, but came out on the side that it would make him smile and I couldn’t find anything wrong with that. Short of an unintentional Three Stooges act there was no way I was topping his whiny self. “I maybe didn’t get a chance to go buy wrapping paper for your gift, sooo…” After a moment I stole a glance, and sure enough, he was smiling.

“You didn’t?” he asked and even let out a little laugh.

“We’re saving the environment,” I said as I started peeling back the paper.

“Sure,” he chuckled. “You, me, and five square feet of wrapping paper.”

“There’s no way there’s that much on here,” I muttered as one corner decided to be a bitch. “How much tape did you use on this thing?”

“I didn’t know we’d be sharing it,” he said, and while he amused himself by harping on the point, I got my wrapping paper off and set it aside.

“–nd you’re not even listening to me, are you?”

“Why would I start now?” The box was plain and, at least for that, I had no compunctions about ripping the tape off. Inside was a lot of paper sitting under a small rectangular box and a shiny black satchel. “Thanks for the great packing materials,” I said as I dug around to make sure I wasn’t missing anything, but it seemed to be just the box and tiny bag.

“Happy to help,” Steve said but he sounded distant. He was staring at the gifts. I took another look at them and my stomach did a flip. The little rectangular box reminded me of–

“Open the box first and then open the bag right after,” Steve said. “It’ll make more sense then.”

When I opened the little box and saw a bracelet I had to hope it was going to make sense. It was…shiny and looked like silver. Chunky but plain. That was a good sign, right? Nice and shiny but plainly platonic. Right? I opened the little satchel and dug out tiny matching metal pieces that were shaped like…oh.

“Wow,” I said and spread the charms on the table around the bracelet still sitting in its pillowed case. “This is…Steve, this is so nice.”

“Oh thank God,” he said and let out a breath that sounded like it was as big as the one still locked in my chest. “I don’t see you wear a lot of jewelry but I saw the charms and it just seemed perfect. The metal’s super hypoallergenic or something– the woman was telling me that it should be fine for anyone with sensitivity to certain metals and I don’t know if you do, but I thought it was better to be safe, and it’s pretty, or I thought so–”

“It’s very pretty,” I said, a smile taking over. What the hell was he so nervous about? Whatever; even his babbling was charming and cute and I tried my best not to think that way because I should have been making fun of him, like a good friend, but I couldn’t rag on him while he was so excited. Or maybe I just couldn’t bring myself to rag on him about this.

“Here,” Steve said, reaching over and taking the bracelet out. Big fingers fumbled with the clasp but he put it on my wrist, and then he went for the charms. He held up the coffee cup. “Obviously,” he said and somehow managed not to fumble that time when he attached it. A cloud, “because you can be pretty gloomy and cranky sometimes,” and when I flipped him off with my other hand he just said, “see?” as he put it on. The book was, “again, pretty obvious.”

Then he put the joystick on and squinted at it for a second before he looked up at me, bright eyes framed by dark lashes, and wet pink lips I couldn’t kiss as someone I deeply cared for leaned into my personal space and gave me jewelry for Christmas. I looked down at the bracelet and focused on being grateful for the sweet, generous gesture this was rather than what I wished it could be. The bracelet itself wasn’t too much. It felt comfortable.

“I asked her if they had anything video game related and she said this was a good one,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced. It took me a moment to remember what he was referring to. Joystick. Right.

“Remind me to take you to an arcade,” I said and held my arm up to the light. The charms were fun but plain and melded easily together from a distance; I could wear this anywhere and have it be appropriate. But I would know what it really was. “This is…so thoughtful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said warmly. Softly. All of a sudden those repressed feelings surged forward to make my chest ache and for just a moment I thought of a world where he gave me jewelry and it meant something more. But I lived in a world where he gave me a piece of jewelry and looked quietly pleased with himself while I sat and admired it. It didn’t mean anything; it didn’t mean–

Actually, no, that was wrong. It did mean something. It meant Steve was a really good friend who gave me a wonderfully thoughtful gift. I really needed to stop being in my own fucking head so much or I was going to lose everything I already did have.

But I still needed a moment to come back down from the urge to hug him way too tight. “This is so nice, Steve, thank you,” I said and stood quickly, box and wrapping paper in hand. “I can’t lie, yours aren’t as amazing, so get your acting chops up while I’m wrapping them.”

“You know you can just give them to me,” Steve told me as I walked around the other side of the room to avoid any chance of tripping over him.

“Nope!” I said and shut the door to my room. Safe and alone, I breathed– but not too loud, because he might hear me. I grabbed his gifts and shoved them in the box (stuffed them, really) so I couldn’t think too hard and chicken out of giving him something. I messed up at a couple of points with the tape and, rather than ripping the already well-used paper by trying to fix it…I decided to go with it.

One full roll of transparent tape later, I walked back out feeling a little more composed, a little more me. I stood in front of Steve and proudly held out the box.

“It’s very shiny,” he remarked as he took it and looked it over. From the second I sat on the couch I was on the edge of it, eager to see what he would do. Would he try to return the favor by removing all the tape? Would he try scrabbling for an edge? Would he try tearing the paper to ribbons only for the tape to stick all over his hands?

None, apparently– he just pushed his fingers clean through the box right next to the edge and ripped the side right off. “Hey!” I said, because hey, no fair, but he just laughed at me and shook out his gifts onto the couch in between us. I crossed my arms. “You're no fun.”

“No fun at all,” he agreed happily and picked up the beanies. He rubbed one of them between his fingers. “These are very nice.”

“They’re good quality and warm and you look good in beanies,” I said. He put one on haphazardly and I laughed. “Maybe not with tuxes.”

“It does feel nice though; thanks,” he said and sorted through them. “I like the colors too.”

“Yeah, they’re all earthy or whatever,” I said and pointed at the most important gift.

“Unicorn slippers!” he said, seeming actually delighted as he picked them up. He then immediately took off his socks and shoes to put them on. “They fit! They’re soft.”

It was no bracelet, but I couldn’t keep a smile off my face. “I maybe hid some measuring tape near the entryway and ran over to your shoes when you went to the bathroom once.”

“Sneaky,” Steve said and set his shiny loafers aside. “I’m going to have to bring them every time I come over.”

“They’re worth it,” I said and wiggled my own unicorn-clad feet.

Steve picked up the last gift. Or ‘gift.’ “That’s not–” I stopped myself and tried to think of what I wanted to say. I just couldn’t figure out how I could say it that I wouldn’t sound stupid. I gave up on the pretense. “So that’s…just a little thing, that can actually stay here if you want, but it is yours. I know you’re not really into games, but I thought if you were over here maybe you could have your own controller.” As he looked it over, I quietly added, “And maybe I can look into…games with two players. If you’d like to play with me sometimes.”

“I would like that,” he said quickly. “To play with you.” He then turned bright red. “In a game– in a video game.”

I would have made fun of him, but I was choked by embarrassment too. Damn it, I had done so well with keeping my daydreams chaste (mostly, mostly chaste) and that fucker had to do that. I swallowed and tried to think of absolutely anything else while the time ticked on and our mutual embarrassment settled in. Luckily Steve still had the perfect distraction in his hands. “Hey– do you like the design?” I asked, looking from the Captain America shield design to Steve and back and back again.

He rolled his eyes. “Where did you even find it?” he asked and set the package down.

“I don’t know who does your marketing but they deserve a raise because they are putting in work,” I said and sat back, a little apart from him. I could only get so far on the same couch in a small apartment, but it was enough.

“I’ll be sure to pass that along,” he said.

The conversation died and I didn’t know if I should say anything or not, but I felt…mostly comfortable. Despite the slightly-less-but-still-a-little awkward silence. Outside was cold but we were warm inside with fuzzy slippers and snacks and a slate of classic Christmas movies.

“Hey Steve?” I said, looking at the TV.

“Yeah?” he asked and leaned in.

I definitely didn’t turn my head– I was afraid the temptation would be too great. So, I resisted. But I still had plenty to be grateful for. “I’m glad you ditched your dumb party to hang out with me.”

He chuckled and scooted closer. His presence was a wall of warmth that was too comfortable, so much so that I got a core workout just from sitting so rigidly upright. But then he said, “So am I,” and, well…it was worth it.

   ~Later; Avengers Tower~

  “I told you you’d break him,” Maria said, sitting on one arm of the couch.

“Excuse me?” Tony extended his arms, drink sloshing dangerously up the sides of his cup. “I don’t see him here. Where do you think he ran to, hm?”

“We don’t know he went there.” Clint said, a little down the bar from Tony. “He could have run home.”

“No, he’s there,” Natasha said, tapping at her phone. “He’s on her couch, I quote, “eating chips in peace.’”

“Ungrateful,” Tony muttered and continued to do so.

The others ignored him. “So are we going to let Steve handle this on his own terms now?” Bruce asked.

“Bruce,” Natasha said, mock-frowning at him. “It’s like you don’t know us.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, but stretched and groaned. “It’s more like I’m partied out, and this isn’t working.”

“Yet!” Tony said and pointed at Bruce– again, with the hand holding the drink, so his drink sloshed over the side and onto Rhodes, who cursed and grabbed napkins to dry his shirt. “It hasn’t worked yet.”

“Tony,” Pepper said, exasperation lacing her tone. “I think it’s time to let this go. He’s going to refuse to come to any more at this point.”

“Except he has to come to the New Year’s Eve party,” he said, looking at her with eyes as serious as he could make them. He only wavered slightly.

“Oh,” Pepper said. “Yes, he has to come to that one.” She looked thoughtful. “Maybe we can make it a bit smaller.”

“‘Just us’ smaller?” Clint asked.

“Not too small,” Natasha said. “She’ll need a place to hide.”

Thor sat on the couch, with Jane sleeping on one of his shoulders and Darcy sleeping on the other, and he looked curiously around the room. “It is interesting that the Captain would be infatuated with a partner so…” He tried to think of a word, and settled on, “Meek.”

Clint and Natasha snorted in unison. “She’s not meek,” Natasha said. “She just keeps to herself and comes around on her own terms.”

Thor brightened and looked to his sleeping girlfriend. “Like my Jane,” he said and faced forward again, keeping his body very still so as not to disturb the sleeping women. “Perhaps Darcy will help in bringing her forward.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “Before we get too ahead of ourselves, how are we sure Steve isn’t going to skip the next party?”

“He won’t,” Natasha said. “As long as everyone shows up– and they will,” she said, shooting a look at Bruce. He, naturally, withered, and she looked around the room, finally settling on Pepper. “Put her name on the list. I’ll make sure he comes, and I’m certain he will bring his date.”

“The question is: do you think he’ll bring her as a date, or will it become a date?” Maria asked idly.

“Are we betting?” Pepper asked brightly.

As the rest of the group got involved in the debate, Bruce and Phil stared from their positions against the wall. “Poor Steve,” Bruce said. When Phil lifted his glass Bruce clinked his against it, and then they both downed the last of their drinks in unison.

   ~The next day~

  Steve: Please Me: Steve Steve: PLEASE Me: …Are you on your knees or something? Steve: If I was and I took a picture would you come with me? Me: You seriously want me to come along that bad? Me: Why can’t you skip out? Steve: The NYE party is a big one Steve: Or so I have been told Steve: Sam is coming Steve: And I missed Thor at the last party Steve: I will never hear the end of it if I miss him at this one Steve: Please? Me: We forgot to go on that shopping trip for your spine Steve: It won’t do me much good when Natasha removes it Steve: She said I HAVE to go Steve: But Tony and Pepper always have good food Steve: And good alcohol Steve: And he pays the bartenders so well you literally aren’t allowed to tip Steve: Please? Me: … Me: I’m going to have to wear a nice dress Me: And makeup Me: And travel through the city on New Year’s Eve Me: To a big social event Me: This is going to sound weird because Stark’s parties are some hot thing apparently but Me: You are going to owe me so fucking big Steve: I already owe you! Steve: Thank you!

He went on to thank me in a variety of ways that normally would have made me laugh, but I already really regretted saying yes. Steve, all of his friends, me, and booze– I hit my head against my phone for each miserable fucking point. Oh, and people tended to kiss at midnight. Thinking of all the good alcohol made me feel sour, because I wasn’t going to be able to allow myself much of it. Not if I wanted to succeed in keeping my secret crush secret. And even with that pre-new year resolution, I still had a really bad feeling that I wasn’t going to be under wraps for long.

<<Previous Chapter Next Chapter>>

[apparentlynotreallyfinnish]

Incognito - part 3

If you missed them, you can read the first two chapters here. --- Link was eating his cereal, his motions automated, staring straight ahead seeing nothing. He was wearing only his boxers; his hair an undone messy nest on top of his head. The sleepless night had settled on his shoulders and slumped him into a hunch. He didn’t have to look into a mirror to know he looked like a walking corpse. He felt it. Thankfully, they didn’t have any filming scheduled for today. Silver linings.

After finally falling asleep, he’d dreamt of Rhett. He didn’t remember the dreams properly; there were only flashes lingering in his mind. Rhett smiling at him, eyes hooded and soft, head on the pillow next to Link. Rhett’s fingers dancing on Link’s stomach, moving slowly lower, making Link whimper with anticipation. Link’s fingers threading into Rhett’s curls and tugging hard. Rhett’s moan. God, that was the thing that haunted Link the most. Rhett moaning his name, all ragged and needy. Link shook his head, trying to physically get rid of a memory of something that had never happened.

A car horn startled him and made him slosh milk everywhere. Link cursed and grabbed some paper towels to clean up the mess. He glanced at the clock. He was late. Another curse fell from his lips. He’d lost track of time. The car horn sounded again, and annoyance flooded Link.

“I’m coming,” he muttered to himself and strode to the front door. He flew it open and roared, “I need a minute!”

Rhett looked at him from the car, eyes blown wide. He lifted his hands up, palms facing Link. Link stomped back inside and pulled on clothes with angry tugs. He had no time to shower so he just did what he could with his hair. It looked horrendous but five minutes later he was hopping in the car, still fuming.

“Good morning?” Rhett said carefully; it was more of a question than a greeting. His gaze was worried and curious, and it made Link’s mood shift a bit. He felt himself softening. Some of the anger ebbed away and he was left feeling exhausted and only a bit annoyed.

“Didn’t get much sleep, sorry,” he mumbled as he buckled up. Link didn’t look at Rhett, he didn’t dare to. He was too afraid that the strange mood those dreams had left him in might leak out to his expression somehow.

“No worries, bo. That sucks. Try and get some shut-eye on the way?”

“Mmh. Maybe,” Link said, closed his eyes and let his head lean against the window.  It’s not like he had to ask Rhett right now. It might even be better to wait until the end of the workday. That way they’d have more time to talk. Rhett turned the radio down a bit and the steady hum of the car quickly lulled Link into sleep.

A gentle touch on his shoulder woke him up. Rhett was smiling at him from the driver’s seat.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We’re here,” he said in a hushed tone.

Link instantly flushed crimson and quickly turned his head to hide the blush. His mind understood that Rhett was only making a reference to a fairy tale and not actually calling him beautiful but, by God, his body hadn’t gotten the memo. Rhett didn’t seem to notice anything strange since he just hopped out of the car and headed for the door. Link took a deep breath and followed him in. He was actually feeling a bit better after his nap.

They settled into their office and Link couldn’t help but observe Rhett secretly. Did this man look like someone who had sexted with a stranger on an app last night? Did he look like someone who was hiding a full-on secret life from his best friend? Honestly, Rhett looked totally normal. He’d thrown his bag under his desk and sat down with a heavy thud. He got out his phone, tapped on the screen a few times and Link could’ve sworn his face fell a bit. Link’s eyebrows shot up. What was Rhett hoping to see there? A message from a certain blue eyed fellow maybe?

Link sat down at his desk and got out his own phone. He perked up when he noticed the notifications from Incognito. He’d gotten another match which he promptly ignored. What mattered more was the fact that Mr. Paddleboard had sent him a message.

PaddleBoardMe: Good morning, baby blue. I hope your morning has started better than mine…

Link glanced over his shoulder at Rhett. There was an opportunity for a little test here.

BlueEyes78: Sadly, probably not. What happened to you?

BlueEyes78: Oh, and good morning!

No need to be rude. Link turned in his chair and lifted his legs onto a small cabinet next to his desk. From this position he could see Rhett from the corner of his eye. Nothing happened. Rhett kept working on his laptop. He didn’t acknowledge his phone. After ten-ish minutes Link got tired of waiting and got to work. He kept glancing at Rhett and every time he took his phone, Link’s heart skipped a beat, but no new messages came.

“Gonna go get a drink. You want something?” Rhett asked some time later.

“Sure, bring me a La Croix. Thanks,” Link answered.

Rhett had been gone barely a minute when Link’s phone lit up.

PaddleBoardMe: Good morning! :) Nothing major. Accidentally made someone mad. I felt bad but everything’s okay now. Can I do something to make your day better? ;)

Link drew in a sharp breath. He glanced at Rhett’s desk. He’d taken his phone with him. Link’s stomach sunk. There were just too many coincidences. The most logical explanation was that Mr. Paddleboard was Rhett. But Link had to be absolutely sure.

BlueEyes78: I’m glad you feel better. Since you’re offering, wanna tell me what you’re wearing? 

Link’s foot tapped on the floor. He placed his phone on the desk and pressed his sweating palms into his thighs. His mind was going a mile a minute.

PaddleBoardMe: Really? You wanna do that at work? Kinky ;)

BlueEyes78: Just wanna know what you’re wearing. Totally innocent.

PaddleBoardMe: Uh-huh. I’m wearing some grey vans, black jeans and a green t-shirt. I like the shirt because it kinda matches my eyes.

Link’s phone slipped from his fingers and dropped on the floor with a clatter. His hand was clamped in front of his mouth. A noise burst out behind his fingers, something between a laugh and a cry. Link felt faint. It was Rhett. Mr. Paddleboard was definitely Rhett. With a shaky hand, Link reached for his phone.

BlueEyes78: I’m sorry. I gotta go.

Link closed the app and slipped his phone into his pocket. He was trying to will away the shakes. Okay, okay. Everything is fine. This was just unfortunate. Yes, they’d accidentally been matched on a dating app. Yes, they’d sexted. Yes, they’d jerked off to each other’s words. But they hadn’t known! Things might be awkward for a while but as time passed, they could surely laugh at this whole situation.

Then a thought hit Link. He’d described himself to Mr. Paddleboard and his answer had been…

That’s exactly my type.

Link was Rhett’s type. Rhett’s type was Link. The panic that gripped Link was something he’d never felt before. Had Rhett thought about him when he was…? Link pushed the thought away. It made him lightheaded; scared to his core. Link got up from his chair to nervously pace around the office. His shaky hand was in his hair, messing it up even worse than it already was.

Rhett was Link’s life. He’d been his life for the last 35 years. But not like that, not as a romantic partner. Those were fleeting. Every romantic relationship Link ever had came with an expiration date. The intense feelings of the beginning just mellowed out and then there was nothing left. That couldn’t happen with Rhett. Link needed Rhett. 

They always talked about the future; working together until retirement. Spending their old age together, sitting on a porch somewhere warm and pleasant, cursing the youths and remembering their glory days. Link thought of an alternative, about sitting there with someone else or even alone. He doubled over from the pain. Even an imagined life without Rhett made Link gasp for air and his eyes burn with tears.  

What if Rhett wanted to be more with Link and Link turned him down? Could they ever come back from that? He’d always thought there was nothing that could break the bond they had. But the possibility of unrequited love hadn’t ever even crossed his mind. Could Link keep sitting in this office day in and day out knowing that Rhett wanted to be more than friends, knowing that Rhett was pining for him. Link wasn’t sure if after a hurt like that they could just carry on like nothing had happened. 

But Link could be reading too much into this. Maybe Rhett hadn’t actually meant anything by saying that that was his type. Maybe he’d just wanted to be nice to the random guy he thought he was talking with. Maybe it was just part of the play – just something you say in the heat of the moment. Maybe Rhett would be as embarrassed to find out who he’d really been messaging with. For some reason, that option seemed to hurt Link more.

Any second now, Rhett was about to step through that door. And they’d be here, in their office together, like a thousand days before this one.

Nothing had changed.

Everything had changed.

Link could hear his footsteps approaching and ran for his chair. The door opened at the same time as he got back to his laptop. A can was placed on the edge of his desk.

“Here.”

“Thanks,” Link replied and took a quick peek at Rhett. He was staring at his phone, frowning. His expression was like a knife at Link’s heart; the pain stung and lingered. He realized that in his panic he’d been pretty rude. Rhett looked sad and it was Link’s fault. It felt like the slow unraveling of their friendship had already begun. Link was making Rhett miserable. Why did I go on that app? Stupidest idea ever.

---

Link said nothing. He spent the day avoiding Rhett the best he could. He got barely any work done. All he could think about was Rhett. Rhett wanting him. Rhett not wanting him. And by the end of the day, he was so confused by his thoughts that he didn’t even know which option was the worse one. He’d been working in one of the conference rooms and he went back to their office, hoping to quickly nip in and out, call a Lyft and go home. The office was empty, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He gathered his things and turned to leave. The door was blocked by Rhett’s towering figure. It made Link jump and he dropped his phone for the second time that day. Rhett cocked an eyebrow at him as he quickly picked it up and chuckled awkwardly.

“Wow, lurk much?”

“Link, what’s going on?” Rhett asked. His features were drenched in worry.

“What do you mean? Nothing,” Link muttered and walked up to him. His hand reached for the handle, but Rhett stepped in front of it. Link glanced at him, annoyed.

“Can you please move?”

“No.”

“Rhett. I’m tired, I’m cranky. I wanna go home. Move.”

“Link. Please talk to me. You’ve been acting strange today. It’s freaking me out.”

“It’s nothing. Let me go,” Link said. He was starting to get angry. His mind was a jumble of thoughts he couldn’t figure out. And the worst part of it was that he couldn’t even talk with his best friend about any of this.

“You do know you can talk to me about anything?” Rhett said voice soft and concerned. Link’s stomach clenched. It was like Rhett had read his mind. The sentiment was sweet and, a few days ago, Link would have believed him and whole-heartedly agreed. 

Now he was just confused. Rhett was saying it like he meant it but he himself hadn’t told Link. He’d been with guys for God knows how long and he’d never even hinted at that. What else was he hiding from Link? What could he trust now? Was their friendship just a remnant of something they had as children? Was Link a weight dragging Rhett down; someone who he had to keep around because they’d decided to go into business together? The sudden possibility of their friendship being a sham blindsided Link. His stomach churned and his hands began to shake. The fear of losing Rhett gripped him and he lashed out to the only person he could. 

“Yeah?” Link said and he couldn’t stop the nasty edge that his words took. He turned his face upwards to look at Rhett before continuing, “So, I should tell you everything? Even though you don’t!”

“What are  you talking about? Of course, I do,” Rhett said recoiling from Link’s sudden intense stare. Link scoffed.

“I know you don’t. Let me go, Rhett. Nothing good is gonna come from this conversation.”

“I don’t understand! Please, Link. Talk to me,” Rhett was pleading now. He moved forward, maybe trying to grab Link’s shoulder, and Link stepped back to dodge his touch. Rhett’s face fell. His arm dropped and he hung his head.

“Have I done something to hurt you? I don’t… Please tell me.”

Link couldn’t take this anymore. He was in acute pain. And so was Rhett. He took out his phone, opened the app and wrote.

BlueEyes78: Move.

Rhett’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he looked at Link, expression confused. 

“Did you just text me? That’s pretty passive aggressive, even for you. Link, can we just…” he sounded exasperated, but his sentence was cut short when he got his phone unlocked and read the message. All color drained from his face and his mouth fell open. He stared at the phone.

“There. Now you know. Can you move?” Link muttered looking at his feet. His heart was beating wildly. He needed to get away. He needed to get away before he said something he couldn’t take back. 

I love you. Don’t leave me.

I can’t be with you. Not like that.

“Link… You…” Rhett was stammering. His eyes finally rose from the phone and sought Link’s, but Link was dodging his gaze. He was on the verge of tears.

“Let me go, Rhett. I – I can’t,” he whispered, voice trembling. 

Rhett’s whole body seemed to deflate and he moved away from the door. Link walked out of the office, feeling like his heart had been ripped out and left there.

[baconsoupforthesoul]

The Ink Demonth- Day 19- Sick

Lovesick

A/N: I’ve been writing a bunch of angst lately, so I wrote something fluffier this time. It’s another one-shot based off Monochrome Madness before Henry leaves the studio cause I can’t get enough of that au. The Monochrome Madness au belongs to the incredible @inkspottie and I hope you all enjoy~

Henry stared blurry-eyed at the drawing on his desk. His head swayed back and forth like a metronome. Occasionally his eyes would slowly shut before Henry jerked in his seat and shook himself in a feeble attempt to stay awake. Of course, it had to be today, it was just his luck. Henry was used to being tired, working non-stop for Joey Drew Studios made a person used to that fairly quickly. No, the thing that had Henry worried was the heat radiating off of his forehead, the itch in the back of his throat, and the number of tissues he’d gone through in the last hour. Henry shivered despite his fever and turned away from his drawing to cough. It had taken him weeks to convince Joey to give him the afternoon off today, and it had taken Henry even longer to finally pick up the courage to ask Linda on a date.

Oh Linda, just the thought of her brought a dopey grin to Henry’s face. After meeting her while getting flowers for the studio’s grand opening, Henry couldn’t seem to get her out of his head. In that whole shop, she was the prettiest flower there, with a dazzling smile that left Henry feeling breathless every time he saw it. Henry was never the most sociable guy, and being around a woman as wonderful as Linda made his heartbeat uncomfortably fast, but he still found any excuse he could to visit the flower shop. He was a stuttering mess most of the time but Linda didn't seem to mind. She’d just giggle and smile at him as if his social shortcomings were enduring somehow. Usually, Henry would try to let Linda do the talking, as she was better at it than him and always had more to say. He could honestly listen to her talk about flowers for hours. She was so knowledgeable and her voice was cheerful and warm. It was like balm on Henry’s ears. After meeting her he had honestly bought more flowers from the shop then he knew what to do with, his apartment starting to overflow with them. It was only after he had turned his dwelling into a flower-filled jungle that he had finally managed to ask Linda out. He had never been more nervous in his life, barely getting the words out as he fidgeted with his bow tie and stared at the floor, unable to look Linda in the eye. And despite all of that, Linda had just laughed and said to him, “Took you long enough~.” Henry had been so relieved she said yes that he almost cried.

So now, he had an afternoon off and two tickets to the movies and a damn cold. Henry blew his nose again before going back to his drawing. It wasn’t that bad, he tried to reason as he almost coughed out a lung. He’d just have to push through it. He’d worked so hard to set up this date with Linda, he wasn’t about to let all that hard work go to waste. Besides, if he canceled on her now, who knows if she would agree to go out with him again. He was fine, he’d felt worse before. Henry’s started nodding off again, his whole body feeling heavy with exhaustion. He’d just have to… press… on…

---

“Henry? Hey, Henry? Come on sleepyhead, ya gotta wake up.” Henry blinked slowly as he felt someone nudging him.

“Huh?” Henry’s voice came out hoarse as he lifted his head, his vision a little blurry.

“Finally.” Henry heard Wally heave a sigh next to him. “Ya sleep like the dead, ya know that?” Henry turned towards the janitor who was giving him a concerned look. “Ya doin’ alright Henry? Your face is all red, and I know I heard ya coughing up a storm earlier before you decided to use your desk as a pillow.”

“I’m fine.” Henry waved off his concerns before his eyes suddenly widened and he grabbed Wally by the shoulders. “Wait! What time is it?”

“Uh, I don’t know? You’re the one with the watch, Henry.” Wally pointed out. 

Henry let go of Wally and looked down at his watch, his face going pale. “Oh shit! I’m late!” Henry shot out of his chair, but as soon as he was on his feet a wave of dizziness overtook him and his vision started going in and out. He stumbled forward and would have fell face first on the floor if Wally hadn’t steadied him.

“Easy there Henry,” Wally said as he tried to keep Henry upright. “Shit, Henry you’re really warm. Ya sure you’re not sick or somthin’?”

“I can’t be sick! I gotta get to my date with Linda!” Henry babbled as he regained his footing and started wobbling to the exit. Wally followed behind the animator, worried he was going to fall again.

“Henry, you really aren't lookin’ so good. I think datin’ should be the least of your worries right now,” Wally told him, looking more worried by the second as the animator still seemed out of it.

“I’ll be fine.” Henry insisted. “Oh man, I gotta hurry. I can’t leave Linda waiting.” Henry started to pick up speed as he grabbed his things. By the time he made it to the door, he flung it open and started running down the street towards the flower shop.

“Henry! Wait!” Wally called out to him, but Henry was already booking it, determined to make it to his date. Wally bit his lip as another person stepped up behind him.

“Something tells me this date isn’t gonna go well.” The sudden voice from behind him caused Wally to jump as he spun around to see Norman looking down the street where Henry had gone.

“Geez Norman! Ya scared me half to death there!” Wally complained to which Norman merely chuckled.

“That’s Henry for ya,” Norman continued. “Sicker than a dog and he still thinks he can take out this girl from the flower shop. Poor guy always seems to be worried about letting anyone down.”

“Yeah, he looked ready to pass out ta me,” Wally replied, crossing his arms. “I don’t think this girl he’s interested in is gonna want to go on a date with a man who’s liable to collapse at any moment.”

“Well, with the way he was running I’d say he’ll pass out once he makes it to the flower shop.” Norman guessed as he stepped out of the studio. “I’ll go after him. If Mr. Drew asks where I am, let em know I’ll be back as soon as I’m able.”

“Gotcha!” Wally gave Norman a friendly salute. As the other man walked off, Wally went back into the studio and commented to himself. “I wonder if Henry noticed the ink smudged all over his face?”

---

By the time Henry made it to the flower shop he was completely out of breath. It wasn’t even that far from the studio but his lungs felt like they were on fire and his legs felt like jelly. He looked at his reflection in the shop window as saw that he had ink smudges on his cheek. Oh gosh, he was a mess. What would Linda think of him now, showing up to her shop late looking like a disheveled mess? Henry tried desperately to wipe the ink off his face as he adjusted his bow tie with his other hand. He was so focused on it that he failed to see Linda through the window as she walked up, startling him as she opened the door.

“Hello Henry,” She greeted him warmly. “I think you got a little something on your check there.” She smiled at him, trying to suppress a giggle. However, her radiant smile dropped from her face as she took in the rest of Henry’s appearance. “Are you feeling alright, Henry? You’re looking a little worse for the weather.”

“I-I’m fine.” Henry insisted again, before coughing harshly into his elbow.

“Oh Henry.” Linda’s voice went soft as she walked up to Henry and placed a hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up, and you look dead on your feet. Maybe we should do this when you’re feeling better?”

“No!” Henry exclaimed, sounding frantic. “I’m okay, really I am. It’s just a little cold. I promise I’m-” Dizziness suddenly overwhelmed him as he swayed on his feet. His vision blurred as he started seeing double.

“Henry!” Linda’s eyes widened as she reached out to steady him.

“I-I’m fine…” Henry tried to reassure her again before his legs finally gave out from under him.

“HENRY!” The animator heard Linda cry out as her grip on his shoulders slipped and he collapsed on the ground. His mind was fuzzy and he couldn’t really tell what was going around him. He could hear Linda’s panicked shouts, and then another voice calming her that he swore he recognized. Was that Norman? Henry didn't get a chance to confirm that as his eyes slipped shut and his mind went blank. 

---

Henry groaned as he finally regained consciousness. He slowly opened his eyes, looking up at his bedroom ceiling. Wait… bedroom? How did he end up back home? Henry clutched at his aching head as he tried to sort through what happened to him.

“Welcome back to the world of the livin’, Henry.” The animator looked over and saw Norman walking towards his bed with a glass of water.

“Norman? What are you doing here?” Henry asked as he sat up.

“Don’t you remember?” Norman raised an eyebrow at him as he set the glass on his bedside table. “You decided it was a swell idea to go on that date of yours when you had the goddamn flu. And then you passed out right in front of her.”

“I did?” Henry’s face paled as the memories started flooding over him. “Oh no, I did. Oh, what will Linda think of me now?” Henry whined as he flopped back on his bed, sniffling miserably.

“No use worrying about that now. You just need ta focus on gettin’ better.” Norman told him. “But if it eases your mind, she was real concerned about you, even made sure I brought these ta ya.” Norman motioned to a bouquet of flowers and a little card on Henry’s bedside table. “Anyway, unfortunately, I don’t have time to play nursemaid. I’m sure Mr. Drew will be wondering where I got off to, still got a few projectors to fix.” Norman sighed. “Now, I don’t want to be seeing you back at the studio till you’re feelin’ well again, ya hear me?”

“Got it. Thanks for taking me home Norman.” Henry smiled weakly at Norman. As embarrassed as he was, he was still grateful for the man.

“Don’t you mention it, Henry.” Norman smiled back before leaving the apartment.

Henry sighed as he stared at his ceiling, feeling miserable. Some first date that was, he pretty much blew any chance that he had with Linda. Henry pulled the covers over him, fully prepared to mope in bed for the rest of the day when he remembered the card on the table next to him. Nervous but unable to help his curiosity, he reached out and picked it up, opening it with shaking fingers.

Henry, 

Never scare me like that again. You can tell me if you’re not feeling well. I promise I won’t get upset, you can’t help it if you’re sick. Please take care of yourself. I’ll be patiently waiting for our date once you’re feeling good as new again.

Get better soon,

Linda

Henry smiled that dopey grin he always had when he thought of Linda and pressed the card to his chest. Despite everything, she still wanted to see him again. Henry drifted off into a peaceful sleep, determined to fight off this flu so he could see Linda again.

[hopeishappinessff]

Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 59.1

Hope

Cailah Faith Brown. My baby girl… our baby girl. The “C” placed proudly by her father who insisted that some part of her name needed to have his mark on it… though she would carry his entire last name. The night Tawny, my dad, and Diana got in town they all spent at least half an hour ogling over the size of my belly because all our Face Time chats apparently did it no justice. Tawny then proceeded to spend the remainder of the night fussing at Chris and I for failing to give our child an identity. She demanded that we sit down with her and at least come up with a list of options that we could choose from the day the baby was born. But the moment she tossed that name out as a mere suggestion, I fell in love. Cailah… my daughter, honorably named by her aunt. Faith, her middle name… a direct tribute to my mother… Faith Marie Donsen. And Brown… the thought of my child proudly carrying her father’s last name filled me with envy and happiness all at the same time.

Today was officially day three past my due date and honestly, today was officially the day that I was completely over the whole pregnancy. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my pregnancy… every last minute of it. I wouldn’t change a single aspect of it, other than the months where Chris wasn’t by my side like I’d always envisioned. But there comes a point in a woman’s pregnancy, well at least mine anyway, where she’s just over the whole damn thing. I was tired of being tired all the time. Tired of feeling so ridiculously large from my neck down to my ankles. Tired of feeling so insanely in love with the father of my child, yet feeling uncontrollable urges to whack him upside the head at the most random of times. Simply put… I was tired of being pregnant and I may or may not have made the mistake of sharing that with the girls, and Tawny, because now… they had made it a personal mission to help me induce my labor. 

 “Let me lay it on the line I got a little freakiness inside  And you know that the man  Has gotta deal with it  I don’t care what they say I’m not about to pay nobody’s way Cause it’s all about the dog in me Mmhmmm…”

I stood in place between Destani and Tameka, hands swirling around the front of my belly, hair pulled up into the messiest bun that was tilting pathetically from the side of my head, and perspiration coating my exposed skin. The coffee table that was once situated in the center of the den had been pushed to the side, offering maximum floor space for our shenanigans. Nalay stood feet away, orchestrating our choreography and Tawny maintained a red face from trying to refrain from laughing as she held three different phones up trying to capture the whole thing on video. 

“I want a freak in the morning A freak in the evening, just like me I need a roughneck brother  That can satisfy me, just for me If you are that kind of man Cause I’m that kind of girl I got a freaky secret, everybody sing Cause we don’t give a damn about a thing…”

“Dip low Sy, dip low. Don’t forget to squat. We gotta expand that cervix girl!” Nalay yelled out, coaching me into the proper positions she believed would make my water break.

“Like this bitch.” Destani dropped down to my right, into the lowest possible squat I’d ever seen, then seductively lifted her body back up with her tongue sticking out and her hands running up the curves of her torso and chest.

“Nuh-unh bitch, if you gone squat on it… fucking squat on it!” Tameka exclaimed and the next thing I knew, down she went… right into a full split. The girls howled as she bounced in place a few times on whatever imaginary “it” she’d just squatted on. Eventually she leaned her torso forward and flattened herself out against the floor, sliding her legs straight behind her and propping herself up onto her shins so she could have better leverage to twerk it in the middle of the floor.

“Nigga we tryna get her to go into labor, not seduce Chris into putting baby number two in there before number one can even make her way out!” Destani cackled.

“Meka, where the hell did you even get that from?” Nalay was now hunched over, gripping onto her knees as she laughed and wiped at the underside of her eyes.

“Ya’ll bitches better take notes… how to keep a man 101. Ask Kendrick where I got it from!” Rolling over onto her back, she did some type of acrobatic move, rolling her entire lower half up into the air and pressing her hands down on the floor beneath her to complete a roll that eventually landed her on her feet.

“Nah, nah… Sy’Diyah the one with a whole baby up in her. She the one who should be leading lessons on how to keep niggas. With Chris ole sprung ass.” Destani said.

“You ain’t lying though girl.” Tameka chuckled, breathing hard as she neared Destani and slapped hands with her.

“Um, ladies… I still have videos recording here. We aren’t done.” Tawny giggled.

“Oh shit. Rewind the song like one-minute Nay.” Destani instructed, quickly shifting back into position to my right. Tameka fell right back into place at my left and we anxiously waited for Nalay to get us back to where we left off.

I could honestly say that I was enjoying myself. I was exhausted, but enjoying myself non-the-less. Since early this morning, the girls had taken this whole thing right into the palms of their hands and personally made it their mission to get some type of activity from this little girl in my belly. Leave it to her to be a stubborn little thing and refuse to come on time… she was three days late to be exact. As I’d mentioned before, however, I was truthfully not interested in rushing her at all… mama just wanted to give her a little encouragement is all.

I continued to swivel my hips to the heavy beat of the song, courtesy of Destani’s JBL Bluetooth music box, and actually shut my eyes and momentarily lost myself in the beat. 

“Boy you’re moving kind of slow You got to keep it up  Now there you go There’s just one thing that a man must do Mmhmm I’m packing all the flavor you need I got you shook up on your knees Cause it’s all about the dog in me…”

Completely lost in my own zone, I stepped away from the trio and allowed the beat to consume me and my hips. I swirled and twirled, dropped it like it was hot on whatever the imaginary “it” was from Tameka’s show earlier, and bent over to catch my knees so I could transition into a smooth twerk.

“AYYYYYEEEEE, that’s my got damn bama right there! You better get it baby mama… fuck it up girl!” Destani yelled, cheering along with the girls, and hyping me up even further. I could feel a smile gracing my face as I reached up to tug the miserable hair tie from my locks, freeing it in the sexiest of ways. My belly was completely exposed, because I no longer cared much for clothes. I was in the company of my girls tonight, so I figured there was no harm at all in a pair of comfy spandex shorts that had risen and exposed the cusp of my butt cheeks. And the only thing covering any portion of my top was a turquoise sports bra from my collection of many. I was in my element and there was no one and nothing that could stop me.

I could hear extra commotion in the room at some point, but the girls were shouting even louder and hyping me so much I paid no mind to it at all. My aunt, dad, and Diana had gone over to Ms. Joyce’s a few hours ago to help her with a few last-minute touches to the nursery and she’d already informed me that once they were done there, they would be stepping out for a bite to eat. So it was just the girls and I for the evening, and I was perfectly content with that. As usual, I had no real knowledge of where my boyfriend was and I refused to allow thoughts of that to ruin my night and thankfully the girls respected my unspoken wishes to not bring him up.

I had just run a hand through my wild and waist length tresses, swiping a handful of the golden curly mess out of my face. While that hand was occupied in my hair… the other was gripping onto Tameka’s right shoulder so that I wouldn’t lose my balance and go toppling over as I alternated between rolling my body and twerking my butt. When I felt the sudden sensation of another pair of hands right at the cusp of my widened hips and my bulging belly, my eyes shot open and an immediate frown fell onto my face. 

“One to the two, to the two, to the three Sy’Diyah do you wanna have a baby with me? One to the two, to the two, to the three  Sy’Diyah do you wanna have a baby with me?” The altered verse was chanted a few more times into my ear and I could feel a rhythmic bump against my backside, matching the beat of the song perfectly. The crotch of this mysterious person was pressed firmly against my butt and I nearly gasped at the feeling of their semi hardness rubbing against me.

“Baby daddy better get that shit bih! Get it Chris, get it Chris!” The commotion in the den of the house was at its loudest now, if that was even possible, and I could hear both male and female voices yelling at the top of their lungs like we were in the middle of a close NBA game. Swinging my head around to the left, I strained my neck to look back into the grinning face of none other than my child’s father. His grin made me grin, but his crotch still pressed against my butt caught my attention again before I could fully acknowledge him.

“Ain’t I tell you that pregnant shit turns me on?” He’d wedged his face into the crook of my neck and mumbled those panty soaking words against my skin. I was thankful that my spandex shorts were black.

He maintained his grip on my waist, but I managed to turn completely to face him and held onto him the best way I could with a thousand pounds attached to my front side “Down daddy.”

He hissed sharply and chuckled against my neck then slowly pulled back and glanced down at my lips “You tryna get me riled up in front of all our friends baby?”

God I loved when he talked like that. I smirked and pulled away from him, but not before he meshed his lips against mine and puckered them three times, followed by his hands roughing up my butt cheeks a bit.

“Aye nigga, don’t let these kids see all that now. They don’t need to know exactly how ya’ll made that baby.” Dontay laughed obnoxiously as he pushed his way through the living room, beelining directly toward Tawny. She stood there smiling and biting her bottom lip bashfully, awaiting his arrival… they were so stinking cute.

“The hell ya’ll in here doing anyway? Sy, you tryna give the homegirls lessons on how to get like you or what? No lie… if Meeks gone be doing that shit on the dick tonight, she might be next up.” Kendrick set off a heavy chain reaction of laughter that rumbled through the whole crew and I couldn’t help but drop my head against Chris’s shoulder as I trembled with laughter.

“Boo, if you would have seen the shit yo girl was in here doing like half an hour ago, Meeks probably would have been first in line, okay!” Destani howled. Tameka laughed ratchetly, stuck a middle finger up at Destani, then turned to her man and greeted him with a nice sloppy kiss.

“See man, that’s that shit… ya’ll niggas is just nasty, both of ya’ll,” BJ chuckled, pointing a finger toward Chris and Kendrick, “You ain’t gotta do all that show boating to greet your woman.”

“Nigga shut yo philosophical lookin ass up!” Rashad called out, igniting a fresh batch of laughter. I was much too worn out from the hours of nonstop dancing we’d just put in to continue entertaining our over-enthusiastic group of friends, so I discreetly waddled over to the love seat, but was stopped in my tracks before my butt could connect with the seat. It was Chris who’d stopped me, because now that he’d just randomly made his appearance at the house after disappearing for hours, he suddenly wanted to be all up under me… literally. He plopped down on the couch before me and gently grabbed me by my waist, carefully pulling me down to claim my seat on his lap. He helped me maneuver my body to the side, because it was the most comfortable for me, and I ended up looking like a large child cradled in his arms from the way he held me. I smiled at the thought. It never failed to amaze me how easily he could take my mind off of my irritation with him… he made it impossible for me to be mad at him for too long.

“What were ya’ll doing?” He asked. I couldn’t help but take in the amusement on his face. His smile always made me smile.

“The girls really wanted to help me induce labor.”

“Oh okay. But… what were ya’ll doing though?”

We held eye contact for a while before we both burst into laughter and I slapped him playfully on the shoulder “I mean, what did it look like? We were dancing.”

“Oh word? Kinda looked like you were tryna seduce the girls… that shit was sexy.”

“You’re silly,” I giggled, “But while you’re asking me what we were doing, I think I’m the one who should be asking you that.”

His bright eyes roamed the room for a while before he dropped his gaze to me, absorbing every inch of my face as his tongue slithered out over his bottom lip “You think so?”

“Christopher…” I started, attempting to push myself up further to sit eye to eye with him, but obviously the task wasn’t as simple as I thought so I quickly decided to just frown up at him instead.

“Sy’Diyah?” He smirked.

That annoyed me, so that’s when I decided to face the struggle of sitting up because now I wanted to remove myself from his lap completely. He had me in a good mood for all of five minutes and just like that, I was over him again.

“Babe, wait… what are you doing?”

I didn’t respond, because I couldn’t respond, because I was too out of breath from scooting myself around and struggling to get up from his lap. He still held that same amused expression on his face and that really left me with an urge to slap him. Did he really think this was a joke? Because no one was laughing…

“Hope, I was playing. Chill out before you hurt yourself.”

“Oh, you really do think it’s a joke?” I mumbled under my breath. All the grunting and huffing and puffing I’d done to twist my body around to face forward meant absolutely nothing when he simply tugged me backwards and sat up straighter so I would at least be a tad comfortable when he meshed my back against his chest.

“I had some business to take care of.” He tried to reason, with his voice all soft and his lips pressed gently against my skin.

“Whatever Chris. Let me go.” And of course, he did the exact opposite. He held me closer and continued to peck his lips against my neck discreetly as the crew babbled on in front of us about some new movie on Fandango and who was going to input their debit card information to purchase it.

“The boys were with me, if that makes you feel any better.”

Smacking my lips and rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily through my nose and crossed my arms over my chest “So you have them out there dabbling in stuff none of you should have any business in? Seriously Charlie?”

The low rumble of his chuckle in the crook of my neck had me shutting my eyes briefly, but I quickly gained my senses and snatched them open because our position was compromising enough and I didn’t need to draw any unnecessary attention to us in a room filled with nosy spectators.

“Is that what you think? Somebody is dabbling in some illegal shit? Girl you funny… thought you knew your man better than that.”

“I thought I did too.” My words were laced with attitude and I’m sure he could sense that from the way he momentarily tensed beneath me.

I could feel his lips parting against my neck in preparation to say something else, but the newest conversation floating around the room quickly gained my attention and I strained my ears to make sure I was actually hearing it correctly…

“Well they should be out for a while, so I don’t think it would be a problem. Even if they came back earlier than we’re thinking, we’ll just make sure we’re down here to cover for them.” Tawny spoke quickly and quietly, surprising me completely because if this was what I thought they were discussing I was shocked that she’d be in the thick of it.

“Unless they go to Breezy house. Won’t it be kinda awkward in this house full of people?” Kendrick chimed in.

“Nah nigga, we’ve endured this shit plenty of times before. Them niggas is wild… the entire city of Richmond could be in this house and the homie gone still put it down.” Dontay cackled. A few of them laughed, but I could hear a few quick “shhh’s” telling them to keep it down.

“Don, what if you just let them go to your place and you just stay here? So they can have more privacy and shit?” Tameka asked.

“Meka, why don’t you fucking let them go to your place? If I’m there or not, I will still know in the back of my mind that the homie is fucking my friend into labor.”

“What the fuck are ya’ll talking about?” Chris blurted before I had a chance to open my mouth. I hadn’t even realized that he was listening, because I’d tuned in so intently I forgot I was even in his lap for a second.

“Aww shit, we ain’t think ya’ll was listening.” Destani giggled, failing to do so innocently.

“Okay, but what are ya’ll talking about though?” I asked.

“We’re just trying to help you induce this labor Sy…” My gaze shifted to Nalay in amazement… they were all in on whatever this sick plan was?

“Wait, ya’ll are all sitting down there discussing this right now?” Chris asked. I could hear the humor in his voice, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to crack a smile… were they serious?

“I mean, we just wanna make sure our niece comes… she’s already almost a week late, right? We just as excited to see her as you nigga.” That was Dontay… having the audacity to sound offended that we were possibly offended about the conversation they’d been engaging in, that no one had actually stepped up to confirm yet.

“So no one is going to tell us what you were actually talking about?” At this point I was already well aware, I just wanted one of them to say it.

“Girl we done tried everything today. We walked your ass three miles this morning, went and got lunch at that Thai place up the street from Meka house, put together full choreography for the past few hours… the only thing ya’ll ain’t tried yet is sex.”

Again, I could feel Chris tensing beneath me and his face suddenly found its way into the crook of my neck again. Subconsciously I reached down to caress his thigh, my touch relaxing him almost immediately.

“You’re seriously admitting to me that you guys are sitting right in our faces, talking about… that?” I asked with the blankest face I could muster.

“I actually found the topic a bit weird myself Sy…” Kendrick spoke up, only to be quickly popped on the shoulder by his frowning girlfriend.

“We ain’t ask you how you felt about it nigga,” Tameka fussed, rolling her eyes and her neck around to face me, “What ya’ll think about it?”

“I think we should no longer continue this conversation because Kendrick is absolutely right… it’s very weird.” I said.

“See…” Again, Kendrick attempted to speak up to defend himself, but the hard glare on Tameka’s face shut him up abruptly.

“Ugh, fine,” Dontay drew immediate attention to himself when he huffed and sighed loudly, “Ya’ll can just go to my place. I know it’s for a good cause… as long as you promise me and T can have your room Sy.”

I could feel a headache creeping on the harder I frowned. My friends had all officially lost their minds.

“Tay!” Tawny gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth as a deep blush set in on her face. I would have laughed at the sight of her wearing her shyness right on her sleeve, but I suddenly remembered a certain shy someone who still had his face bashfully hidden from everyone in the room.

“Breezy, come on baby. I’m offering you my whole crib so you can get some pus…”

“Dontay! You gone make this man pass out… you see he ain’t tryna hear you right now.” Nalay blurted, thankfully cutting Dontay off before he completed his brash statement which, as she’d stated, would very well push Mr. bashful to the brink of simply passing out.

“Wait, hol up… have ya’ll… have ya’ll even done that, yet?” My eyes narrowed in on Destani and I glared at her, refusing to respond to her or to even continue to entertain any of them and this unnecessary awkwardness.

“Charlie, don’t listen to them. They’re all crazy.” I muttered, attempting to turn in his tight grasp to face him.

I could feel him shaking his head as his face remained one with the skin of my neck and I couldn’t help but giggle when I felt his lips start to move “It’s okay. Maybe they’re right…”

This time it was my turn to tense up and gasp at the sudden realization of what he’d just said… as well as the feeling of his lips pressing softly against my neck.

“What do you mean?” I whispered. There was something extremely intimidating about the way all of our friends were sitting there staring at us, all of them smiling as if watching the best new series on Netflix. I wasn’t too keen on having a whole private conversation with Chris right there in their faces, even if we were whispering.

“You have tried everything… but that. I mean, I’ve heard that it really does work… the least we can do is try…”

I wasn’t even sure how to respond. Was he serious? Were they serious? Sure I was more than ready for this pregnancy to be over, but… was I really that ready?

For a while the crew continued to sit there, chatting lightly amongst themselves and glancing awkwardly at Chris and I every few seconds. I had hopes that by some miracle everyone had forgotten about that conversation and it seemed as if they had… until I felt myself being lifted from Chris’s lap.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I think we should call it a night now…”

TBC...

[fluffyllamas-23]

“Is Bucky coming in today?” Peggy asks, spinning on the rolling stool next to Steve’s desk. Steve looks down at his planning book, trying desperately to finish planning today’s lessons before they have to go pick their students from the bus stop.

“Yeah, he just texted me that he’s on his way,” Steve mumbles, exhaustion weighing him down. It’s only four months into the school year, and he’s beyond drained.  This is his first year as a special education teacher, and even though he only has five students and three aides, it’s still hard.

“It’s about time he gets off his lazy ass and actually show up for once,” Sam grins.

A smile plays on Steve’s lips, “be nice, he’s been sick.”

He reaches for his coffee cup, draining the rest of it before getting up for a refill. It’s his third cup of the day, and it’s only eight AM.

He hadn’t slept well the night before. He had woken up a handful of times, and it had taken longer and longer for him to fall asleep each time, which just frustrated him more than anything.

The coffee is doing nothing for the bone deep fatigue he’s been experiencing since he got off work yesterday, but he’s hoping that it’ll all kick in soon, before his students get there.

“Are you okay?” Peggy frowns. “You never drink coffee.”

“Just tired,” he says, clearing his throat with a grimace.

The coffee is definitely not helping the sore throat he had woken up with, it’s not that bad, nearly undetectable, but every time he swallows there’s an ominous sting in the back of his throat.  Like he’s starting to come down with something, but he’s hoping that it at least holds off until the weekend.

He’s at the keurig when the door opens again.

“Hey, guys,” Bucky greets them.  He still sounds congested and tired and hoarse, like he’s not quite past whatever he had managed to come down with, but his voice still makes Steve want to melt just as much as usual.  

“Welcome back!” Steve grins, turning around to look at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“You sound like crap,” Sam says, raising a brow.  

“I’m fine,” Bucky says.  “I sound worse than I feel.”

Steve’s heart flutters in his chest as he realizes just how much he had missed Bucky.  Bucky had been gone for nearly a week and a half, out with the same bug that has been making its way through the students, and Steve is more than happy to welcome him back.

*

As the day wears on, Steve realizes that whatever this is isn’t going to hold off for the weekend.  He’s nearly halfway through the day when he has a crashing realization that he’s definitely sick.

The realization happens in the break room during lunch.  He hasn’t been hungry for the last few days, but he still has his lunch bag in front of him, staring in vague disgust at his sandwich.  His stomach rolls slightly, and he’s suddenly aware of just how badly everything hurts, and just how awful he’s starting to feel.  

He rests his head in his folded arms, suddenly too exhausted to do anything more than that.  He doesn’t move when he hears the door unlock and open, but when he feels a hand on his back and a very soft, “Steve,” murmured into his ear, he forces himself to sit up.

“Hey, Buck,” he mumbles, grimacing at how rough and congested he’s starting to sound.

“I thought you were coming down with something,” he frowns, pressing a hand to Steve’s cheek. If Steve didn’t feel so awful, he would be reveling in the fact that his crush was touching him.  

“I think I needa go home.”

“Yeah, I think so too.  You’ve got a fever.”

He can’t be here when he’s sick, he has too many medically fragile kids, and even though they’ll all probably catch this at some point anyways, it’s against policy and he needs to leave.

Bucky gets Steve to the office, and stands in the doorway as the school nurse takes his temperature.  

“One hundred and two.  Steve, why the hell did you come in?” She asks.

“I felt fine this morning, Nat,” he groans, running a hand down his face.  “I promise. It didn’t hit until a few minutes ago.”

“Sounds like the flu,” Natasha frowns.

“I think I’m dying,” Steve croaks, sniffling miserably.  

“You aren’t.” Nat hands him the tissue box with a grimace, “it just feels like it.  Did you get your flu shot?”

Steve nods, sniffling thickly into a tissue, “yeah...didn’t seem to make much difference, though.”

She grabs a tongue depressor and looks into his throat with her pen light. “Your throat is a wreck. Go home and rest. Seriously, take a week and a half off at least...maybe even two weeks.  You’ll need it.”

“But my students-”

“-Will be just fine,” Bucky interjects.  “Peggy, Sam and I have it handled.  I just had this and it’s awful.  Listen to Nat, you need the time off.”

“Fury was saying he might shut the school down for a little while,” she says.

“What? Why?” Bucky frowns.

Nat gestures to Steve, “most of the students and staff are out with this. It’s awful, I can’t even tell you how many people I’ve sent home.”

“Oh,” Steve mumbles.

She pats his knee, “so don’t worry about missing work. Just focus on feeling better.”

He physically deflates, shoulders slumping forward and head dropping down to his chest as he coughs.  

“Okay.”

When he leaves Nat’s office, he makes his way over to the office manager’s desk and as soon as she tells him not to worry about work for the next week, Bucky walks him out to his car.  

“Make sure you lie down as soon as you get home.”

“Believe me, there’s no way I’m doing anything BUT that.”

“And drink fluids.”

“I will.”

“And-”

“-I’ve been sick before, Buck,” Steve chuckles lightly.  “I know what to do, don’t worry.”

“Sorry, I just...sorry…” Bucky trails off, touching his cheek briefly.  “Right.  Um...you can, uh...text me? If you need anything.”

By the time Steve makes it home, he’s definitely glad he left. It’s almost like admitting to himself, his boss and his coworkers that he’s sick increases all of his symptoms tenfold and he’s officially miserable.  He’s on the couch, bundled up in a hoodie, joggers and his favorite thick, fluffy socks beneath the blanket he only wants when he’s sick while he stares blankly at the TV.  It’s not on - he had wanted to watch a movie, but his head is throbbing mercilessly and he figures that turning on the television is just going to make it worse.

There’s a knock on his door, and it takes twice as long as it should for him to get up and shuffle to his entryway.

“Bucky?” He croaks, frowning in confusion.  “What are you doi’gg here?”

“I, uh...brought you something to eat,” he says, holding up a plastic bag.

“You didnd’t have to-”

“-I had this and it’s really awful...and since I can’t catch it again, I thought you might like the company...and...I missed you when I was gone.”

“I mbissed you too,” Steve says quietly.  They don’t say anything for a little while, until the coughing and sneezing and sniffling punctuate the silence.

“How are you feeling? You sound a lot worse.”

“I feel a lot worse.”

“You should be lying down,” Bucky says, putting a hand on his lower back and guiding him back to the couch.

*

Steve sleeps for the majority of the rest of the day, curled up against Bucky with his head in Bucky’s lap.  Each times he wakes up, he’s feverish and confused, and it takes Bucky petting his hair and shushing him to get him back asleep.  

When he wakes up the next morning, he can hear some of his pots and pans clanging together in the kitchen.

“Buck?” He croaks, struggling out from under the blankets.  He shivers at the loss in temperature that brings him as he pads over to Bucky.  “What are you…? Dond’t you have work?”

“Fury shut the school down for like...two weeks.”

“Oh...that’s good.”

“Mmhmm. You hungry?”

“Ndo.”

“Sit down,” Bucky frowns when Steve sways heavily on his feet. “What are you doing up?”

He sniffles, scowling as he collapses into one of his kitchen chairs. “I’ve beend lyi’gg downd.”

“Barely.  You haven’t even been sick for twenty four hours, you’ve gotta rest, Steve.”

“I hate it.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Worse,” Steve mutters, rubbing his forehead.  

“Meds,” Bucky says, placing two pills and some water in front of him.

“You really dond’t ndeed to stay,” Steve mumbles. “I’mb probably just goi’gg to go back to bed.”

Bucky bites his lip, “I know I don’t.  I just…”

“What?”

“Okay, don’t let this make things weird.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bucky sighs, “I like you.  A lot, and I know you probably don’t-”

“-I do.”

“You...what?”

“I do.  I like you a lot,” Steve says, giving him a tired, crooked smile. “Have for a while, now.”

Bucky grins at him, “okay.  Okay, great.”

“I didnd’t think...I didnd’t wandt to mbake thi’ggs weird...ugh.  I’mb sorry, I’d really like to findish this condversationd, but I needa lie down.”

“That’s a good idea.  I want you feeleying better soon so I can take you on a date.”

Steve chuckles, coughing into a fist as he pushes himself to his feet.

“Sounds good to mbe,” he rasps.  

Bucky kisses his temple, “I’ll be there in a second.”

“Hey, Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Bucky says softly.  “Now go lie down.”

[rycbrar97]

Consequences [part two]

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female!OC

Warnings: Minor swearing, mentions of menstruation, brief mentions of sex, sickness, mentions of pregnancy, character feeling anxiety/shock

Word count: 3745

Summary: One too many drinks leads to a night both Tom and Alessia will definitely forget and a morning they will always remember.

A/N: I am so excited to write this series, hopefully I didn’t rush this chapter too much. I was just real eager to get this out there to everyone! Let me know if you enjoy it 😉  

Taglist Requests

Part one 

By the time she made it back to her hotel Alessia had already decided that there was no point in telling her sister who she ended up staying the night with and losing her virginity to. She would never believe it. It was hard enough convincing her that she actually had lost her virginity in the first place, nevertheless with Spider-Man himself. 

“What?! You? Had sex? As in done the dirty? Miss ‘I can hardly say the word penis without blushing’,” Sophie had let out incredulously, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Oh my goodness, yes, Soph. Do you have to make it so goddamn embarrassing? Why would I lie to you about this?” Alessia groaned, hands digging into her eyes and legs pacing her back and forth.

“I don’t know! I guess I just didn’t expect my saint of a sister telling me that she lost her virginity on a one night stand whilst completely pissed up the gutter-”

“God, do you have to say it like that?” she interrupted, stopping her pacing mid-stride and staring at her sister dead on, the mortification screaming off her face.

“Hey, that’s what you told me! Just because you don’t want to admit you’re a whore now doesn’t mean that you aren’t one. Somebody has to say it-”

“God, just shut up! Shut up, okay?!” Alessia’s hands shook up and down at each word, her pacing returning with increased intensity.

“Jeez, stop freaking out! This is a normal thing, okay? This is what normal people do. They get drunk, have sex and do the walk of shame the next morning. There’s nothing wrong with that—” Soph explained bluntly, trying to calm her sister back down, despite it having the complete opposite effect. But when a sudden thought crosses her mind, her blabber mouth just couldn’t help but voice it,“—oh my god though, mum is going to freak...”

Alessia’s back snapped rim rod straight and she spun herself right round to her sister, “You will not tell her about this,” she whispered lowly, “don’t you even dare,” her hazel eyes pierced sharply into Soph’s wide round ones, finger pointed menacingly at her face.

The sister put her hands up defensively, “Okay, okay. No need to be so dramatic,” she squeaked, briefly terrified at her older sister’s stone cold gaze.

“Promise me,” she demanded, her eyes struggling to keep out the desperation in them,“ promise me she will never know of this,” she repeated. She knew how her younger sister could be. She couldn’t keep a secret to save her own life. God knows the amount of gossip that girl has revealed to all her friends and family. All the nitty and gritty. She not only loved a bit of drama but she also revelled in it. Alessia just hoped and prayed that she would instil enough fear into the girl to keep this personal info locked away permanently. Most importantly, away from their mother. 

“I promise,” she vowed, the sincerest that Alessia had ever seen her be. But yet, she still couldn’t completely trust her.

She just had too big of a mouth.

Two months gone, and so far Sophie had kept to her promise, but Alessia was still hedging her bets. Life returned relatively back to normal; the girls returned home from their Europe trip three days after that fateful morning. And despite feeling like a completely changed woman after her sexual milestone, the world continued to spin around Alessia as it always did. She returned to her comfortable one bedroom flat with the yellow tea stains still imprinted on her carpet, books and coffee cups scattered across the living area from where she first left them because she couldn’t be bothered to tidy them up before her trip. Her bed was made at least, for which she was eternally thankful for as she felt like she needed at least ten years worth of sleep. Jet lag was an absolute bitch she came to saw.

She was back at work two days later, her body clock still out of whack. While it was nice to catch up with all her colleagues and get back into her routine, she found it quite hard to concentrate when she was yawning almost every two seconds. Luckily, her boss was an absolute gem and completely understood how she felt.

“Oo. Jet lag got you good, huh?” Linda inquired sympathetically, her soft wrinkled eyes observing her knowingly.

“Yeah,” Alessia yawned, rubbing briefly at her eyes before returning to snipping the stems of the daffodils laid in front of her, “I was hoping to be adjusted by now, but I guess my body has other ideas.”

Linda nodded understandingly, “I know what that’s like. It took me almost two weeks to start getting back into my normal sleep routine after coming back from Egypt. You just gotta try and push through the urge to fall asleep during the day and wait until night comes. It’s hard, but worth it in the end,” the older lady advised, continuing with her rose arrangements.

“Thanks, I’ll see how I go. Hopefully I’ll stop feeling tired soon. I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve pricked myself today because I couldn’t focus. I almost grabbed one of our cactus succulents by mistake instead of the ferns. Now that would’ve been an interesting endeavour,” she joked, her smile sluggish and eyes dragged down by the dark circles underneath them.

Her boss shook her head at the mention of her clumsiness, “You’re a workers comp nightmare, you are,” she teased lightly, pausing slightly to eye her in concern, “just take it easy today, kiddo. Maybe stay away from all the prickly plants, okay?”

Alessia nodded her head silently, gladly taking on her boss’s advice.

It was a trying few weeks going back to work. Although she had started to get a bit more sleep each night, Alessia just couldn’t seem to shake the lingering fatigue that dragged her down every day. It was like all the energy she should’ve gotten from sleep each night was zapped right out of her as soon as she got up on her two legs in the morning.

“You sleeping alright, kiddo?” Linda had asked on one particular sluggish morning.

“Yeah, actually I’ve been sleeping fine now. But for some reason I’ve still been feeling so exhausted,” she expressed glumly whilst checking over orders.

“Oh no, that’s no good,” the silver haired lady tsked, “I hope you’re not coming down with something.”

Alessia paused thoughtfully at her words, “Maybe I am,” she considered, her head tilting slightly to the side, “I have been feeling a bit nauseous lately...”

“Hmm, might be the flu. Nothing a nip of apple cider vinegar can’t fix.”

She rolled her eyes at the older woman, “You and your apple cider vinegar,” she shook her head, “last time you told me it would cure my acne if I rubbed it on my face,” she remarked drily.

“You never know if you don’t try,” Linda sung as she finished tying a bow around a box of natives.

“I think I’ll just check in with my doctor first if it persists. Leave the vinegar as the last resort.”

Her boss clicked her tongue at her, shaking her head disapprovingly, “Stubborn one you are, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of home remedy from time to time,” she defended in a light tone.

“Yeah, well, I might not even need it anyway. This could just blow over any day now,” she pointed out, crossing her fingers in hope.

Unfortunately for Alessia, the nausea and fatigue did not ease up anytime soon. If anything, she felt like she was getting worse. The vomiting started about a week after her chat with Linda, prompting her to take time some time off work, much to the concern of her boss.

“Make sure to take some apple cider vinegar. It’ll help. Trust me.”

Alessia rolled eyes while on the phone with her. She sure was one persistent lady.

She lounged at home for the week, feeling absolutely miserable for herself. The urge to throw up always came at the most inconvenient times, whether it was three in the morning or one in the afternoon after just finishing her lunch. She always ended up right at the toilet bowl dispelling what was left in her stomach. It almost reminded her of that morning in London and she would relive the embarrassment moment all over again puking in Tom Holland’s toilet. She groaned as she rested her head on the porcelain seat. She did not need those memories to come back to her right now; being sick was enough torture.

For a couple days she finally felt like she was on the mend. She hadn’t had a spell of nausea for thirty-six hours. Her appetite returned full throttle with the craving of raspberry jam crumpets, for which she devoured a total of four in one sitting. She couldn’t be more relieved and satisfied that the worse was finally over and she called up work saying she would be back the next day. Her fatigue still hadn’t let up and she would get a few dizzy spells every now and then, but for the most part, Alessia felt fine enough to go back to her to work routine. She missed the flower shop too much; the colourful, cheerful atmosphere never failed to bring joy to her and the wonderful smell of lavender and roses would always lift her spirits. It was like a second home to her.

A couple weeks passed and aside from a few bouts of queasiness and persisting lethargy, Alessia was back in action and arranging bouquets like no other. She was considering going to her doctor to try and tackle this fatigue that never seemed to let up, but hadn’t found the time yet to arrange an appointment. She was keeping herself too busy. Well at least, that’s what her mother said.

“I worry about you, Lessie. You look tired. You never give enough time for yourself,” she remarked out of blue on their monthly lunch date, her eyebrows frowning down at her in concern.

Alessia sighed warily, not wanting to deal with her mother’s fussiness right now.

“I’m fine, Mum. I just think the combination of jet lag and getting sick must’ve overwhelmed my body for a bit,” she reassured as she bit into her chicken salad, “I’m fine,” she repeated. She hoped it would be enough to appease her. It was not.

Her mum observed her for moment, eyes running all over her face then coming back to peer into her soul. They squinted at her sceptically.

“I think you should see a doctor,” she said finally, prompting Alessia’s fork to clank down on her plate.

“Mum,” she whined, picking her fork back up and placing her other hand on her forehead to rub away the headache that was beginning to form.

“What? Don’t ‘Mum’ me. It’s been two months since you’ve come back from Europe, three weeks since you were sick with that bug, and you still aren’t well. That’s not normal, honey.”

“Fine. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll book an appointment with Doctor Cox,” Alessia grumbled petulantly, stabbing at her salad mindlessly. She was already planning on going to the doctors anyway, but for whatever reason, her mum bringing it up just suddenly made her not want to go now. It was that old ingrained trait of hers in always wanting to disobey everything her mother said. Alessia knew more than anyone that it was hard to shake that annoyance of being told what to do, even when reaching adulthood.

“You’ll book it for tomorrow,” her mother ordered with no room for question. Alessia groaned in frustration, flinging her hands up in the air at her bossiness.

“But I’ve got to clean my bathroom and kitchen tomorrow. Plus I was hoping to find some time to focus on my music, I haven’t played my keyboard since I got back from Europe and I finally have some inspiration to write something. Do you know how hard it is to get motivated to write?” she rambled on, trying to make up as many excuses as she could.

“Alessia,” her mum called out warningly, not taking any of her daughter’s bullshit. Her gaze was strong and deadly, and Alessia shivered knowing the potential wrath behind those eyes.

“Okay, I’ll make the appointment,” the daughter relented, shoulders slumping heavily and eyes closing as she let out a long drawn breath. Man, her mother could be trying at times.

She scheduled the appointment for the next morning, feeling oddly nervous for no apparent reason whilst driving to the clinic. Doctor Cox was a lovely dark woman in her mid forties, quick as a whip and as kind as the sun’s warmth on a spring morning. If anyone knew what was wrong her, it’d be Doctor Cox. As always, her raven hair was woven into a beautifully made braid and her eyes sported a pair of smart spectacles. She greeted Alessia with a warm smile, directing her patient to sit in the chair facing her desk.

“What can I do to help you today, Alessia?”

The girl in question scooted back into her chair, hands folded into each other, thumbs fiddling in her lap.

“Um, I’ve been feeling a bit tired lately, more so than usual. You see, I just came back from a trip in Europe a couple of months ago and had to adjust to the jet lag. So I thought the fatigue was just due to that...but the thing is, I’ve been getting plenty of sleep at night now, at least eight to nine hours worth, and I still I feel sluggish every single day,” she confessed. The doctor hummed thoughtfully, typing out notes on her computer, giving no indication of her thoughts.

“Are there any other symptoms present?”

“Uh, I did get sick about three weeks ago with a vomiting bug, and still get the occasional bouts of nausea and dizziness.”

The doctor nodded, her face still as blank as a canvas. Alessia could get no read on her whatsoever.

“How long did the vomiting occur?” she questioned whilst tapping the buttons on her keyboard like a speedster.

Alessia paused thoughtfully, trying to recall that horrid week,“About five to six days give or take, it was kinda off and on.”

The typing stopped suddenly.

“Off and on how so?” Doctor Cox clarified curiously, an eyebrow raised.

“Well one day I would be good, completely normal, and then the next morning I’d be puking my guts out. The vomiting kept on coming and going.”

“Uh huh,” she nodded, returning back to the computer to type some more, “and you said you were getting dizzy as well?”

Alessia nodded her head in confirmation, her right hand pinching her middle finger. She forgot how much she hated all the questions being thrown at her when being examined by a doctor. They just seemed to throw them nonstop.

“How often does the dizziness occur?”

“Um every now and then. Sometimes daily.”

“Have you ever fainted, or felt close to fainting?”

“I have felt faint yes, but haven’t actually blacked out.”

“Are you a vegetarian or vegan?”

“No, neither. I love meat too much. What would life be without bacon?”

“Yes what would life be,” she chuckled, “do you usually have a heavy blood flow when menstruating?”

She paused awkwardly at that one, squirming in her seat,“Um, yes. Usually for the first two or three days.”

“Hmm, okay...” she finished typing on her computer, “and are you sexually active?”

That nearly made Alessia fall out of her goddamn chair.

“Uh...come again?” she squeaked, her eyes wide and hand gripping tightly to the armrest beside her. Memories of London flashed by quickly in her mind; hungover, naked, lying next to a movie star.

“Have you been sexually active, as in recently had sexual intercourse?” the woman repeated calmly.

“Um...” her face flushed in embarrassment, her heart racing in panic, “I- I-” why did she have to ask that? How could that question possibly connect to her being sic- oh god. Oh fricken god. How could she be so stupid? Two months. It had been two fricken months.

“It’s okay, take your time. This is a private place, nothing gets outside of these walls, I promise,” the doctor reached over and placed a hand on her knee comfortingly, waiting patiently for her reply.

“I...” she gulped, her chest heaving as all the pieces started coming together. The tiredness, the nausea, the constant craving of crumpets, “I...um...I...” she was peeing more frequently. She had thought that it was just all the water she’d been drinking lately but...and her breasts! God her breasts had started to ache. She just figured it was a hormonal thing and that she was finally getting her period- god it couldn’t be- she couldn’t be-“...I lost my virginity recently,” she breathed.

Doctor Cox blinked in brief surprise and then adjusted glasses, her calm facade returning back promptly

“Oh. How recently exactly?” she asked cautiously.

Alessia breathed in deeply, closing her eyes, “Two months ago,” she murmured, her entire body slumping as she rubbed away the tension in between her eyes. She could already feel the tears burning beneath her eyelids.

“I see. And when did your last menstruating cycle end?” 

“A bit over two months,” she mumbled into her hands, her fingers dragging down her face whilst wiping away her sniffles. Her eyes became red with tears and chest heaved up and down, desperate for air, “am I...?” she croaked miserably, looking at her doctor for any answer that wasn’t what she was thinking.

“There’s no point in jumping to any conclusions just yet,” Doctor Cox interrupted, “I’d like to run some tests before we determine anything. There could be multiple diagnoses for the symptoms you possess and I don’t want to rush into things and make you panic about something that might not even be applicable to you in the first place,” she explained logically, spinning back to her computer, clicking on her mouse and typing a few keys, “I’m gonna write you up for a full blood count, a glucose level check and a hCG test. Basically these tests will tell us if there is any sign of a virus in your system, check how blood sugar level is going and test how high your hCG level is. Your iron count will also be measured which is what I’m most concerned about. A lot of woman, especially at your age, suffer from iron deficiency and your symptoms hint heavily at this diagnosis. However, with the information of your sexual activity and your last menstruation it does lead to the possible conclusion that you are...” the printer screeched back and forth, signalling the deliverance of the test referral, “...pregnant, Miss Carter,” the doctor sighed sympathetically, handing her over the form.

Alessia stared at it with watery eyes, her body unmoving as her doctor voiced the conclusion she had already come to in her own mind. It was finally out there. Pregnant. She could be pregnant. The girl now understood why she was so nervous about coming in today. It’s like subconsciously she already knew what would happen.

“Of course, we won’t know for sure until the test results come back. It should only take a couple days at the most. I’ll let you know as soon as they come in and we can arrange an appointment to discuss the results. All you have to do now is head down to pathology and they’ll run all the tests for you.”

She made no move to get out of her seat, still frozen on the chair and staring at the referral form in her hand. She stared at it but wasn’t actually seeing it, the words and boxes a complete blur to her. How did it get to this? How did she even let herself get into this situation? What the hell will she do? Pregnant. Pregnant. She was-

“As I said, Miss Carter, there’s no need to panic about something that isn’t confirmed yet. My best advice for you is get some rest, clear your mind and focus on the now’s, not the what if’s,” she spoke softly, standing up and placing her hand on her shoulder, “and if it’s any consolation, if the pregnancy test turns out to be positive, just know I’ll be there to help you every step of the way. I’ll answer any questions you have and help you arrange any appointments that you’ll need if it comes to the situation. You won’t be alone,” she reassured firmly, squeezing her shoulder.

Alessia nodded shakily, thankful for the doctor’s kind words and for helping her snap her out of her daze.

“Thank you,” she whispered, slowly standing up and making her way out of the room.

“I’ll speak to you soon,” Doctor Cox farewelled, her warm honey eyes conveying total calm.

Alessia nodded and waved at her awkwardly before making her way quickly out of the office and downstairs to pathology. The tests went by in a distorted haze. Normally she was absolutely terrified of needles, but today Alessia could barely feel the prick going into the crook of her elbow. She couldn’t even hear the voice of the chatty redheaded nurse taking her blood. Everything was submerged underwater. Cold. Quiet. Unnerving.

The drive home was a quick and direct route though she barely made it out alive, having several close calls with multiple cars and unexpected trees that she swear on her life came out of nowhere. Her keys rattled and clanked as she frantically searched for the right one to open her apartment. It took multiple attempts to finally get into the lock but eventually she got there and accidentally slammed the door a bit hard behind her. She couldn’t find it within herself to care in that moment.

She flopped immediately down on her couch, feet resting on one of the armrests and head tilted up towards the white ceiling. Snippets of waking up to a similar ceiling fluttered into her mind, all dazed and disoriented, the memories of the night before nonexistent, blacked out, erased. Her body aching and the warmth of an arm wrapped around her stomach...

That was where it all began. 

And now she was left in an agonising state of reliving that memory over and over again, nervously awaiting its consequences.

[blinder-s]

Imagination / Eames

yo sorry this took me fuvking months and its still shit lol

here is my master list!

Words: 2,657

Warnings: swearings / illnesses / sad idk? its not that sad but 

You and Eames went back a long way. The two of you had dated for four years before you became ill and ended up in a different hospital bed every week. Then you called it quits.

Although it killed you to do it; you couldn’t watch him stagnate this way in his life, and you couldn’t bare to see him throw away his chances of living without love. 

So you broke up with him, severing all ties and cutting off all contact with him. You had no idea where your ex-boyfriend was these days, and although you only had yourself to blame; sometimes it upset you knowing that you’d never feel the way his arms wrapped around you again.

Eames missed you. How could he not? He tried to forget about you; how your hands fitted perfectly with his, and what it felt like to fall asleep next to you, only your tiny breaths and snores to be heard. But he knew you did it for his sake, because you didn’t want to see him sat next to your hospital bed every day instead of experiencing everything that someone else could give him. But what you didn’t know was that Eames would’ve spent every hour of everyday looking at your eyes, and spent every penny he had on flowers or anything to make you smile whilst you sat exhausted in the metal barred bed. 

Today was the day before his biggest and most important extraction. It was for a powerful man who Cobb believed could bring him back to America to see his children. And despite Eames spending the majority of his time gambling his days away in Mombasa, he too wanted to go home. But back to England. And mainly back to you.

He knew you’d be disappointed in him, the way he became dependent on poker, and the way he forged a living in a hidden-away city; all because of a mission that went wrong a couple of years back. His first attempt at inception.

The first level went smoothly, but then the second; his level. You were there and the idea didn’t take so he hibernated for several months in various bars in Salerno, before moving to Mombasa. In the middle of nowhere.

The day arrived, Eames not having slept a wink. He boarded the plane, following the structured plan and making side-glances at his old friend Cobb, and appallingly dull co-worker, Arthur. He even gave Saito a small smile, despite disliking the idea of having him being part of the dream and process. Though, he had become fairly useful in buying the first class cabin, and stopping Cobb from getting killed; so he rolled his eyes and sucked it up, and waited for the mission to begin.

It began quite badly, to say the least. Arthur hadn’t done his research, causing Eames’ snide and pessimistic comments to triple. He hadn’t always been this negative in life; when he was dating you, he hadn’t ever felt so happy and positive about life- you just seemed to make everything better for him. 

And then you left, and things came crashing down again. He was miserable. And being back around Arthur, who was originally a friend of yours, didn’t help at all.

You see, before you became ill, you were also part of the extraction team. You and Arthur worked side-by-side, having gone to college together and keeping in touch. The first moment Eames saw you, he knew you were the brightest star in the sky. 

The brightest star in the entire universe.

He watched as you worked with the impossibly boring man, managing to make everything more positive than ever. Whilst Arthur would fret and struggle with intricate details, you would just smile and point out the bigger picture. You didn’t seem to care if it annoyed Arthur, and often pointed things out so bluntly that Eames was sure you were asking for a punch. 

And that was what Eames loved about you.

So, you can see why he hated Arthur. Once upon a time, when you were in the picture, the two could see eye-to-eye and even joked around sometimes. Now, all that were exchanged were dull looks and steely glances between the pair. 

It was especially tense now, since Arthur had messed up the research, “(Y/N) wouldn’t have let this happen,” he growled, deliberately knocking into his shoulder. Arthur grabbed Eames’ forearm and pulled him to the side.

“You’ve gotta let her go, man,” he mumbled, “I know you’re thinking about her.” Arthur pulled Eames to the side.

“Fuck off, Arthur,” he grimaced. What killed him the most was the fact that Arthur and you still talked from time to time, whilst he was kept in the dark. He guessed it was fair, since you two were friends before he came into the picture, but did you not realise that he was still very much in love with you? 

“I’m sorry, Eames.” He consoled, following the British man over to where Cobb was, “you know she never wanted to end it with you, right? And I tried to stop her, but she insisted that you deserved a better life than one next to a hospital bed.”

Eames turned to the man.

“If you want her back then go and get her.” Arthur theorised, taking the path of ‘tough love’ in one last ditch attempt to try and get through to his colleague.

“I said fuck off, didn’t I Arthur? Are you really that incompetent?” Eames brushed him aside, anger taking over. Arthur was lucky he hadn’t already been punched. Eames however turned his attention to Cobb, his displeased nature shining through, “I was supposed to have tall night to crack this.” 

“Saito wasn't supposed to be shot in the chest.” He reasoned, “you’ve got one hour, so get us something useful. Please.” Dom’s last word was added as a plea, in hope. In desperation.

Eames knew exactly what desperation felt like. He was desperate for you; for anything. Your voice, your smile, you touch. 

So he continued on with the mission, trying to worm his way into Fischer’s mind as his uncle Peter. It wasn’t a difficult task, since he had been researching and practicing the man several months prior.

They continued down further and further until he was into his own dream. Of course Ariadne had prepared him for this, and everything was as it should be, despite Saito’s depleting health. 

It was at this stage that Eames felt hopeful. His grey eyes started to lift at the thought of completing inception, and even the thought of Cobb seeing his children after decades of torment. But it was the thought that he knew what he had to do.

He had to get back to you. 

All he could think of was your smile. The way your cheeks would redden, and your eyes would crinkle and your teeth would appear as white as snow. The way you always wore your favourite lipstick, but sometimes you’d wear red and Eames would go weak at the knees because, boy, you were something out of his dreams.

“Eames.” Cobb’s voice echoed through the walkie-talkie, snapping him out of his trance. He refocused his eyes and picked up the device, “it’s over.”

And just like that, he was brought back down to earth. There would never be any chance of seeing you again. There would be nothing left of him; and he would never be able to forgive himself if he knew that he couldn’t see you. He’d have to live with the guilt that he could have seen you, but gambled it away.

All he needed was the money from this job for a flight. And he was this close; he wasn’t about to lose you again.

“No.” He voiced, simply. “I can’t have that.” He cried, rushing towards the building, tears threatening to spill. 

“Get to the entry chamber now!” Ariadne’s voice echoed through the snow. He got to Fischer, beginning to revive him before the two other members came trudging in.

“What the hell happened?” He stammered, his eyebrows forming a straight line on his face. It was a face you often told Eames to stop, because it made him look intimidating and scary.

“Mal killed Fischer.” Cobb replied, “I couldn’t kill her. It’s all over.” 

And just like that, Eames felt his heart break in two. His face felt numb as it turned to a neutral expression, and he could feel his eyes clouding. Though he couldn’t be angry at Dom for what he’d done; since he knew what it was like to lose someone he loved. Though not to quite the extent, he too knew heartbreak and the implications of dreaming. It was Eames’ only way of seeing you, too.

“So that’s it, then? We failed?” His voice cracked, as much as he hated it. Dom nodded, the two of them looking at each other with solemn eyes. They both knew what was on the line for this mission. 

Though from the outside you’d never know it, Eames and Dom had an unspoken connection. Whether it was because they’d both been through such traumatic heart breaks, or because they were both fairly narcissistic, no one really knew. But they could both see the life falling from each others eyes as he said those two words, “we’re done.”

“There has to be another way,” Ariadne contemplated as the two men looked at each other dubiously, “we’ll follow him down there.” She pointed to Fischer’s lifeless body next to them.

And no matter how many times they thought of a flaw in her plan; she found a way to make it work. Eames just looked at his old friend, and muttered the words, “we’re already at rock bottom so we might as well try.” 

And so they followed Fischer down there and synchronised the kicks, before riding them all up back to the first level, where Eames continued his ploy of Uncle Peter. Having this much adrenaline, and this much to think about all at once almost made him forget about you. Almost.

The awakening on the plane was almost like an awakening of Eames’ mind, which had been clouded by grief for these past years. He rubbed his eyes, looking around the first class cabin in disbelief; shocked that they’d made the impossible possible.

He looked around, noticing Ariadne’s eyes, still groggy from her first extraction, but bright from hope and what she had just experienced. Arthur was already sat forward, waiting on Cobb and Saito, who had just awoken. 

It was good news. The smile on Cobb’s face, and Saito’s bewildered eyes said it all; it was a success. 

He was coming back to you, and his eyes lit up like yours always did on Christmas morning. The pit of his stomach was swarming with butterflies; because this was the moment he knew he was going to see you again.

“St James’ Hospital, wing seven.” Arthur whispered as he passed the man at the baggage claim. Eames looked at the man with a confused expression. Arthur turned back and gave the man an earnest smile.

And all those years of snarky comments and insults died down, and as Eames nodded to Cobb as he walked out, he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. All those years grieving in bars and pubs seemed to have been years ago; he was him old self again.

Thanks to you.  

The flight back to his home country couldn’t go fast enough, and he was itching to get off as soon as he got on. He could barely sleep, his knees knocking and fingers tapping in anticipation in the thought of seeing you. 

It was something Eames had only dreamt about for so long, and the thought of seeing you in flesh was almost overwhelming. 

What if you’d changed? Gotten taller? Maturer? Wore different lipstick? What if he didn’t even recognise you?

These thoughts didn’t leave until he was outside St James’ Hospital, a taxi ride from the airport. He fiddled with his fingers as he walked through the open entrance and towards the receptionist.

“(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N),” he spoke to the grey haired man, “am I able to visit her?” 

The man looked at Eames, who was wearing his trusty suit that probably didn’t even fit anymore. It was too tight and too loose in the wrong places and it had a coffee stain on the left lapel. But it was the suit you picked out for him for your parents wedding anniversary dinner, and it was his favourite. 

He was shown up several flights of stairs and along god knows how many white corridors. Eames already knew he’d get lost whilst trying to find his was out eventually, since they seemed to be walking for miles on end.

Until they came to your door. Your name was written in block capitals, and a rota of different nurses who checked up on you was hung on a clipboard. 

He felt sick.

And as the man opened the door that lead to you, Eames’ stomach lurched; his heart dropped and his breathing became heavier; his eyes grew wide and it was as though he had lost all co-ordination of his limbs.

And when he saw you, in the flesh, he almost froze. His fingers stopped fiddling, and he caught his breath whilst looking at your figure in the hospital bed.

You were far more beautiful than he remembered. 

You were perfect. More perfect than any phosphene he had seen when he closed his eyes. More perfect than any of his dreams where he had imagined this moment for years. More perfect than he could remember, from warped memories that he tried to block out whilst he was grieving.

You were the prettiest colour he had ever seen; the loveliest flower in any garden; the brightest star in all of the universe.

And, just like that, he fell in love with you all over again.

Despite being shocked at his sudden appearance, you were more concerned about the fact that he could see the photo you kept beside your bed; one of you and him in front of the Eiffel Tower, on your anniversary.

The truth was; you broke up with Eames because he deserved a better life. And although you were almost better; you didn’t want to know about him. Purely because you couldn’t face it if he had moved onto someone new, and you didn’t want to know what could have been. 

“(Y/N)...” he breathed.

“Eames,” you smiled, still in disbelief that the man stood beside your bed was real. Not just one you’d dreamt up in countless day dreams and hopeful scenarios of parallel universes where you didn’t get sick, “what are you doing here?” You asked, your eyes welling up with tears and making your vision go blurry.

“I need you,” he muttered, crouching down and taking your hand in his, “I don’t care if I have to sit next to a hospital bed for eternity, (Y/N),” he begun, “I don’t care where I am in the world or what I’m doing. All I need is you beside me.”

You choked back a sob as he kissed your fingertips, “are you real?” You laughed, using your other hand to run your fingers through his hair, “I’ve only dreamt of you, it’s hard to know. Even if you are a figment of my imagination, Eames, you’re perfect.”

He laughed, pulling out his poker chip; his token. It defeated the point, but he knew that if he had you he was in the right dream for him. He wasn’t going back to doing jobs for dreams, and he certainly wasn’t going back to gambling.

He was going back to his reality; the one with you. 

“And even if you're just a figment of my imagination, thats not going to stop me from waiting for you.” 

[pocketsizedsam-blog1]

The Unexpected Perks of Being a Nanny~ Chapter Twenty-Three

Pairing: Jared x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Swearing, Pregnancy

Beta: @mackwinchester1967 @xthelittlethings @invisibledevour

“Um- excuse me- you what?” Jared exclaimed on the other end of the phone.

“I sprained my ankle, it’s no biggie, Jare.” You sighed.

“No biggie. Yeah, yeah. No biggie.” Jared imitated you. “It’s a little bit of a big biggie! Are you okay? How did it happen? Is the baby okay? What about the kids?”

“Everybody’s okay, okay? I promise. Well except for me, but it’s only a little sprain. I tripped up in Arlo’s leash.”

“Wow. How stupid do you have to be?” Jensen laughed.

“Oh seriously, Jared? You have me on speaker phone! Take me off.” You grumbled.

“Hi, Y/N.” Jensen said cheekily.

“Hi, Jensen.” You said quickly. “Now take me off speaker phone!”

You noticed Danneel pull out her phone as you continued to talk to Jared.

“I tripped up in the dog’s leash. Danneel picked me up.”

“My wife is there?” You heard Jensen again.

“Shut up, dude.” Jared warned.

“Look everything’s fine.”

“Did you go to the hospital?” Jared worried.

“No, what’s the point of going to the hospital? They’re only going to wrap it up in an ace bandage, tell me to go home, elevate it and put ice on it, which is exactly what I’m doing right now.” You chuckled. “You worry too much.”

“Can you blame me?” Jared huffed. “You’re pretty clumsy.”

“Alright, alright. Yeah, I am. But it’s only a sprain. I’ll be okay. Danneel is here for a little bit and she should be able to stay until you get home tonight.” You rubbed your belly.

“Okay, well I won’t be too late tonight. Not with you hurt.”

“You don’t have to come home early because of me, Jare.” You yawned.

“How about I’ll come home early but it’s not because of you, and you take a nap, Okay? You sound exhausted.”

“Yeah, Okay. I love you.” You smiled tiredly.

After ending the call with Jared, you pulled the blanket down off the back of the couch and wrapped it around you.

“How feeling, Y/N?” Shep asked.

“Y/N is feeling… tired.” You giggled, running your hand through Shep’s hair.

“Oh… cuddle, Y/N?” Shepherd smiled.

You moved over for him and you opened up the blanket. Shep climbed up onto the couch next to you and cuddled into your side.

“Why Odette call you mommy, Y/N?” Shep questioned.

“Cause she’s little and when she’s not around your mommy, I’m here.” You smiled. “So she calls your mommy ‘mommy’ and she calls me ‘mommy’ too.”

“Oh! Will dis baby call you mommy?” Shep grinned, rubbing your belly.

“Uhhh, of course!” You laughed.

“Y/N? Can we watch a movie?” Tom asked jumping into the living room.

“Sure, dude. Ask auntie Dee to grab the remote and turn on Netflix.”

“Auntie Dee!” Thomas called out.

“I’m coming, dude!” Danneel called back.

She entered the room with Zeppelin on one hip and Odette on the other. Arrow followed closely behind Danneel with her blankie tucked under her arm.

“Hi sweetie!” You grinned, watching Arrow follow Danneel over to the couch.

“Ill ‘tie!” Arrow smiled, trying to pull herself up on the couch.

“I got you, Arrow!” JJ exclaimed, skipping into the room.

She pushed Arrow up onto the couch and helped her sit up right.

“You’re such a great sister, JJ.” You smiled tiredly at her.

“Thanks Auntie.” She beamed as she climbed up on the couch and took a seat next to Tom and Arrow.

You fell asleep before the movie was over and by the time you woke up, Jared and Jensen were home.

“Mmm, is that chicken I smell?” You sniffed.

“Mmhm. Nose on you like a hound.” Jared remarked. “Jensen and I stopped in to get some on the way home. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah… Me and Baby Padalecki are good with having some chicken.”

You sat up carefully, bringing Shep up with you. You shook him lightly and called his name. He cocked one eye open at you.

“It’s time to wake up, dude.” You kissed his forehead.

“No, Y/N!” He mumbled. “Too tiwred.”

“Oh, Y/N’s sorry, buddy, but daddy and uncle Jensen are here with dinner.”

After waking everybody else up, you hopped into the kitchen and took a seat. The next morning came quicker than you thought it would. You were so exhausted that you didn’t even remember heading up to bed after dinner. You rolled over onto your back and realized that Jared was still in bed.

“Hmp.” You shrugged and sat up.

You stretched and your shirt rode up so that your little bump was peeking out. You fixed your shirt, then rubbed your eyes. What time was it? Nine AM? You cocked your head over to Jared, who was turned away from you on his left side. He was curled into Odette, who was laying on her back, spread-eagled. Her cheeks were bright red and her hair was stuck up in every which way from sweat.

“Jared!” You whispered, shaking his arm. “Jared.”

“Mmm…” He yawned, rolling onto his back.

His looked up at you, his tired hazel eyes, sunken in.

“You’re late for work.” You cooed, brushing his hair back out of his face.

“I’m not going to work.” He mumbled tiredly. “You didn’t hear Odette crying last night?”

You shook your head no, “is she sick?”

Jared nodded yes.

“She was up for most of the night.” He added, running his hand over his face.

“Jared, you should’ve woke me up.” You sighed.

He shook his head no. Odette fussed and pushed herself up off the bed. She took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. She scrunched up her nose and ran her own hand through her sweaty hair. Odette looked up at you and immediately started to sob.

“Oh, ‘Dette.” You frowned.

Odette fell into Jared, throwing her head down on his stomach. She let out a couple of coughs and sobbed harder as Jared sat up. He picked her up and held her closer. He cooed to her and sang to her, but nothing made her stop crying.  

“You head downstairs… start breakfast for the boys. I’ll deal with Odette.” He sighed, rubbing Odette’s back.

You nodded yes and pressed a kiss against Odette’s cheek, then against Jared’s lips. You hopped down over the stairs, minding your bad ankle. It wasn’t much longer before Tom and Shep were awake. You were surprised that they slept in so long!

“What makin’, Y/N?” Shep rubbed his eyes.

“Breakfast for you two, scallywags.” You giggled, flipping the eggs.

“We’re not scallywags, Y/N!” Thomas laughed. “You’re a scallywag.”

“Mmmm. I don’t think so.” You teased, grabbing a couple of plates.

“The baby’s a scallywag.” Tom chuckled.

“You think the baby is silly? That’s because the baby is your daddy’s.” You grinned, but your smile faded when Jared came down over the stairs, less than impressed with your remark.

You went quiet and finished setting the table.

“Breakfast is ready. Let me take Odette while you eat.” You grumbled.

“What have I told you? You gotta eat too.” Jared huffed, pouring up some juice, one-handedly.

“And what do I tell you? I’m not hungry.” You hissed, taking Odette from Jared.

You took her into the living room and laid down on the couch with her. You rubbed Odette’s back. You realized that lately, all you and Jared have been doing is fighting. You wondered if this was what it was like before Gen and Jared got divorced. You didn’t want this to be it for you and Jared. You realized that you rushed into your relationship with the pregnancy and all, but you do realize that you love Jared no matter how fast your moving or how much time you spend away from each other, because at the end of the day you two always made up. You also knew one other thing, you needed to have a little more patience with Jared. He was only one guy, who was trying to juggle his work and his personal life. Odette started to feel more and more miserable as the day went on, you could tell. Jared tried to take Odette back after he was done eating, but she was almost asleep and you advised against moving her.

“Y/N, she’s my daughter, I want to spend some time with her.” Jared grumbled.

“You also have two sons that you can be spending time with. Why are you so hell bent on fighting with me?” You whisper yelled.

“I’m not.” Jared shook his head no.

“You so fucking are.” You grumbled and took a deep breath. “Why are you fighting with me so much? What am I doing wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jared said quietly.

“Then why are you fighting with me? I must be doing something to irritate you.” You insisted.

“I’m just stressed out with work and stuff. I worry about the kids and I worry about Gen. I worry about you and I’m behind schedule. I shouldn’t have taken all of today off, I guess.”

“Oh yeah, just leave your extremely ill daughter home with your pregnant, injured girlfriend and rambunctious five-year-old and four-year-old.” You exclaimed sarcastically.

Jared shot up off the couch.

“Oh seriously, Y/N? You’re outta line. Tom and Shep are kids! What do you expect? Why does everything have to be about you.” Jared hissed. “Oh I’m pregnant and I rolled my ankle over at the park! I can’t do jack shit.”

“Is that really what you think of me?” You asked, hurt.

“Yes!” Jared paused, thinking of the words to say. “You- you’re so fucking childish!”

“If that’s really what you see in me, then why’d you hire me? Huh? Why’d you date me? Why did you get me, a childish human being, pregnant? Why did you put a baby in someone you think is childish?”

You carefully laid Odette down on the couch and place pillows all around her. You stood up in front of Jared.

“Because- gah, you piss me off so damn much! I was stupid! Stupid to believe we could’ve ever worked!”

“So the fans on Instagram- saying I was just your rebound from Gen… saying that I’m a gold digger and saying that I’m a whore… they’re all true? You think that they’re all true.” You started to cry.

“No-” Jared started, but you cut him off.

“Bullshit, Jared.” You hissed, storming out of the room.

Jared grabbed a hold of your wrist and pulled you back.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You growled, pull your arm out of his grasp.

You made your way into the washroom and locked the door behind you.

-

Jared had left you alone for ten or fifteen minutes. He realized that both he and you need time to cool down. Jared watched as Odette sleeped and he played a game with the boys. After noting hearing from you in going on twenty minutes, he began to worry. Jared didn’t want this to be it for your relationship! He knew that he’s been crossing some lines over the last couple of days, but he planned on making up with you. He knocked on the bathroom door and called your name several times.

“Y/N, I’m letting myself in, okay? You haven’t answered me… I’m beginning to worry!” Jared called out.

He unlocked the door and found you unconscious on the floor.

“Oh, god, Y/N!” He muttered.

He bent down next to you and pulled you into his arms. He took out his phone and quickly called 9-1-1.

“Y/N, hang in there, baby. I’m right here. I’m so sorry. I’m not leaving you.” He murmured, pressing kisses against your forehead.

Paramedics arrived at your house only a few minutes later. You were rushed off to the hospital while Jared had to stay behind until he could get a babysitter. Luckily enough, your next door neighbour was home and willing to look after Tom and Shep. Jared figured he would take Odette with him. He’d kill two birds with one stone, get Odette checked out and make sure you were okay. It felt like a lifetime ago from when Jared last seen you, even though, in reality, it had only been fifteen minutes.

“Where is Y/N Y/L/N? They brought her in by ambulance probably about fifteen minutes ago? She’s pregnant and she fainted- again.” Jared rambled on.

“Oh, yes. I checked her in. Are you the boyfriend? One who called 9-1-1?” The receptionist looked up from her computer monitor.

Jared nodded yes. The lady told Jared where to find you. Jared was laying back on the bed next to yours with Odette while a doctor checked her over. Occasionally, he glanced over at you to see if you were waking up.

“That was the second time, Y/N.” Jared said quietly, a much different tone from earlier. “The doctor told me that you were dehydrated and that you needed to eat more.”

You huffed and glared at Jared.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He whispered. “I’m sorry. I regret everything I said. You’re not childish… you-you’re just new at the whole mom-slash-pregnancy thing.”

“I can’t just forgive you, Jared. Words hur-hurt.” You coughed, rubbing your belly. “Do you still love her?”

“Well… Yes. But not in the way that I love you. Gen and I share three kids together. I can’t exactly just cut her out of my life. We needed to make it work, for our kids. The next best thing to that is being friends. I was married to Genevieve once, but I’m not anymore. I want you to know that. I went down that road before and I won’t- I can’t do down there again. Gen and I are better off as friends, Y/N. I still love her and I still worry about her, but you’re the one I want to be with. I know what I said was hurtful an-and wrong, but, baby I can’t shake this feeling- I don’t wanna lose you.” Jared’s lip bottom quivered as his eyes fell to Odette, guiltily not being able to look at you. “I know I can’t fix this one with flowers and chocolate and but I’m going to try and win your trust back, Y/N.”

“It’s going to take me a long time to trust you again, Jared.” You warned.

“I-I know that. But, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get back to where we were…. You and my kids mean more to me than the whole entire world, Y/N. You need to know that.” Jared sniffed looking up from Odette. “I love you.”

Normally that would mean a lot to you… but this time, those three words caused you nothing but pain. You would be lying if you said them back.

Tag List:

@invisibledevour @steverogerswhore @invisiblethink1 @nanie5 @reachforthestarsgirl @beckawinchester @internationalmusicteacher @xthelittlethings

[deathglare]

UNFINISHED (If someone else wants to continue the story, please go ahead!)

Commander Peepers becomes the talk of the ship once his diary is discovered, and he must do everything in his power to prevent the news spreading to Lord Hater.

((Just something I wrote for fun while on a long car ride! Probably filled with errors, but it was fun to write regardless!))

Commander Peepers scribbled anxiously in his diary, his red glove clutching the pen tighter as he continued to write. Lord Hater was most definitely asleep — Along with a majority of watchdogs — but the Commander wanted to take extra precautions as to not arouse suspicion. His lights were turned off, and he lay under his blanket beside his flashlight. If any emergency were to occur that required anyone barging in to his room, all it would take was a swift motion to click the flashlight off to appear as though he was sleeping. The Commander, ever since the defeat of Lord Dominator, hasn’t been able to bring himself to sleep. It was odd, to say the least, that after defeating what kept him up for months, a new problem started gnawing at his stomach the same day. It was a feeling he couldn’t, and wouldn’t dare to try and describe. All he knew is that they were connected to Lord Hater, and if he wanted to continue to be a productive commander, he’d have to destroy whatever feelings plagued his vision.

“Dear my very manly, very evil logbook meant for only the most crucial details involving my life…”

Peepers muttered quietly under his breath, without even realizing he was doing so. “It is to my great misfortune that I must bring up my feels dealings with Lord Hater once more.” Peepers took a moment to give the word ‘feelings’ a few more hashes through it, his gut feeling like it was twisting. That was not the correct word, it was just an easy mistake brought forth by his exhaustion. Clearly. “It appears as though I can’t stop thinking about him in ways indescribable by even the smartest watchdog: Me. It’s like hatred, but not really at all. It’s miserable and…” Peepers shuddered a bit as he continued to write, the tip of his pen pressing harder in to the paper. “… Happy at the same time, which only makes it twice as more miserable. Every time I close my eye I see him conquering plants, or shouting threats, and so on. I’ve noticed that, peculiarly, I hate not being around him more. And certainly not the good kind of hate.” Peepers felt his heart beating faster, a feeling of dread laying heavy in his chest. The more he wrote, the more obvious it became, and the more denial he forced himself to feel. “Surely all second-in-commands feel fondly of their boss in the same manner. It is nothing significant or worth worrying about. Perhaps all this spawned from the pride I felt at seeing him act all tough and brave and strong when—” Peepers’ pupil shrunk in realization. There was no denying it, and absolutely no possibility of ignoring it any longer. The pen barely contained any pressure as he sloppily wrote, barely allowing himself to look down at his own writing. He couldn’t help but mutter out the words. “I appear to have a certain endearment to Lord Hater.” Peepers wailed in despair, his current thoughts outriding his goal to keep quiet. He slammed his eye repeatedly against the cover of his diary, in some hopes to knock the feelings out of him. It was ridiculous, embarrassing, and worst of all, the exact opposite of evil. Hater would be ashamed of him, but nowhere near as ashamed as Peepers was with himself. “Uh, sir?” Peepers frantically waved his arms as he panicked to switch off his flashlight and shove his diary under his pillow. Afterwards, he ripped his blanket off his eye to face whomever entered his room. “WHAT!?” Peepers shouted irritably, quickly blinking away the wetness in his eye. Several watchdogs were standing at the door of his room, peering in. Peepers blinked again, this time in confusion. “We heard you yelling and—” “NO YOU DIDN’T!” Peepers shouted before he grabbed his blaster and threw it at the door. It slammed it shut, knocking over at least two watchdogs in the process. Peepers glanced at his alarm clock. 7:00 AM. “Oh grop!” Peepers quickly scrambled out of bed, frantically reaching for his helmet as he slipped in to his shoes. “I lost track of the time!” In a matter of seconds, Commander Peepers was ready. He quickly opened his door and pushed the crowding watchdogs aside, rushing to catch up on his duties. With as much effort as he could, he left his feelings in his room and focused on his job.

“Greetings, dear viewers! Today, there has been an overwhelming request for today’s special topic involving none other than our very own: Commander Peepers!” Andy the watchdog held his microphone proudly as he spoke. “Lately, our commander has been reported to be, and I quote, ‘Not himself’. It’s got every one of us watchdogs talking and curious.” Andy began walking down a hallway, his eye not leaving the camera. The watchdog carrying it kept it as steady as possible as he followed him. “Rumors have been spreading throughout the Skullship! But today, dear viewers, I will get to the bottom of all of it, just as you requested! Dangerous? Of course! But not so much so that I would consider not satisfying my dearest, special viewers!” Andy halted in front of a door, and gestured to it with his hand. “This is the Commander’s room! It is time that we begin investigating!” Without a moment’s hesitation, the watchdog entered the room, walking lightly on his feet. “There isn’t much to search in here…” Andy stated as he glanced around the surprisingly empty room.

Andy walked towards the bed, which was left in the center of the room. It wasn’t made.

The watchdog gave a quick glance around the room, double checking to make sure he was the only one there before he began pulling at the blankets. His hands gripped something peculiar, and he quickly pulled it out for inspection.

“A flashlight! Perhaps our Commander has developed a fear of the dark?” Andy pondered a minute as he continued to examine the object.

“Nah, that can’t be it.”

He stuck his hand back in to the blankets. After just a few moments, his fingers slid under the Commander’s pillow and he felt another object. Immediately, he pulled it out. Bingo!

“Aha! All our answers might be answered in this… Diary?” Andy questioned, holding it up closer to the camera.

Without thinking of the possible consequences, the watchdog began flipping through the pages.

“Now, we don’t want to invade all of Peeper’s privacy. We’ll just skip to last night’s entry, and see what we can get.”

With book in one hand and microphone in the other, Andy stopped at the previous day’s date. He mumbled out the written words as he read, carefully searching for evidence. When his pupil reached the final sentence of the page, it shrunk before looking back up at the camera.

“Commander Peepers has a certain endearment towards Lord Hater! Could this be w—”

“ANDY!” The watchdog quickly turned, tossing the diary up in to the air in shock. Commander Peepers was standing in the door way, his eye bloodshot in anger. Though frightened at first as the commander began approaching him, the watchdog quickly tried to regain his composure for the sake of the show.

“Commander Peepers, sir! What exactly did you mean by a certain endearment?”

Peepers’ pupil shrunk as Andy held out his microphone towards him.

“I.. YOU…” Peepers stuttered in anger, shock, and embarrassment. His fists were clenched and shaking. “GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND DELETE THIS FOOTAGE BEFORE ANYONE SEES IT!! BY THE TIME I’M DONE WITH Y—”

“Oh, uh, this is actually broadcasting live across the Skullship! It is Live-Friday, after all!” Andy “winked” at the camera.

“I… Live F-Friday?” Peepers looked at the camera, his pupil even smaller.

“That’s right, sir! The Eye on The Skullship’s Live Fridays, where every Friday the show is live! We just started doing it last week!”

“So you mean to tell me that right now, who knows how many watchdogs are watching this, and saw you… Reading that?” Peepers pointed at his logbook.

“That’s right sir! All for the sake of the watchdog’s curiosity!”

“ANDY!” Peepers quickly reached for his diary, holding it close to his chest.

“Sir! One time I saw you and Hater walk in to the smooching room together! Is there a relationship budding!?”

Peepers turned around to see a crowd of watchdogs outside of his room, all either staring at him or the camera. Andy wrapped his arm around the watchdog who had spoke out before holding out his microphone once again to their commander. The watchdogs then began speaking of other instances involving Hater and Peepers.

“Wha— NO!” Peepers shouted, quieting the chattering watchdogs. “I couldn’t believe that we had six smooching rooms, Lord Hater was simply showing me that they existed! There is NOTHING going on between us!”

The watchdogs were quiet for several seconds before Andy asked another question.

“Do you wish there was?”

Before Peepers could respond, another voice shouted out above the rest.

“OF COURSE HE DOES!”

Peeper’s felt his stomach drop as Wander appeared from the middle of the crowd, a smile taking over the majority of his face.

“Oh grop, no.” Peepers squeaked out in disbelief.

“COME ON EVERYBODY, WE GOTTA TELL HATER SO WE CAN START PLANNING THE WEDDING!”

Wander yelled out a “yee-haw” before running out in to the hallways.

The watchdogs watched him run off before turning to Peepers.

The commander held out both of his hands, signaling for them to all stay in place so he could speak.

“Weddings have cake!” A watchdog shouted. Not a second afterwards, the watchdogs began running with Wander.

“NO!” Peepers quickly ran after the group, frantically trying to raise his voice over the cheering and chatter.

“Commander Peepers! I bet our viewers are just DYING to know what flavor cake you plan on having!” Andy fell back from the crowd to run beside his commander.

Wander appeared from seemingly nowhere and got in between Peepers and Andy’s microphone.

“Well, I was thinking about having a layered devil’s food cake with buttercream icing, custard filling, and some luster dust! Hater does love his glitter!”

Peepers shouted loudly over the two. “THERE WON’T BE A WEDDING! THERE WON’T BE ANYTHING!”

Wander’s smile didn’t falter. “Sure there will! When Hater finds out how you feel, he’ll realize that you two have always been close, and you two will fall in love and get MARRIED!”

Peepers came to a halt, grabbing Wander by his arm. He continued running forward a bit before he bounced back, much like a rubber band.

His immediate reaction would’ve been to threaten him, but he knew that it wouldn’t work.

“Listen! You have to use your banjo or something to stop them!”

Wander tilted his head in confusion. “Why? Don’t you want Hatey to know how much you care about him?”

Peepers blushed and screamed in fury. “I DON’T!”

“Well, why not?” Wander asked. His genuine sound of confusion was infuriating.

Peepers took a deep breath, trying to remain calm.

“You trying to pair us up is just as crazy as trying to pair him up with Dominator!”

“Aw, C. Peeps! This is way different!” Wander wrapped his arm around Peeper’s shoulders, leading him forward.

“Sylvia helped me learn that you can’t force love.. But you and Hater are already in love!”

Peepers shuddered at the “L” word. Before he could respond, Wander continued.

“Dominator and Hater barely spent any time together, it was silly of me to think that they could’ve gotten married after a music number when they weren’t  even friends yet… That’s how Sylvia explained it, any way. What you and Hater have is definitely special, it’s easy to see why the watchdogs are so supportive!”

“They’re only supportive because they want cake!” Peepers argued. “Lord Hater and I are buddies, I admit that, but we aren’t, and CAN NOT be anything more than that!”

Wander stopped walking, and Peepers shoved his arm off.

“But why?” Wander’s confused face returned. “You two already spend every day together, and you’ve got significantly closer than when I first met you two! Plus, the two of you would be ADORABLE together!”

“Why is this so hard for you to understand!?” Peepers shouted. “Hater does NOT like me in that way!”

Wander’s confused face turned to one of worry. “But how do you know that?”

“It’s obvious!” Peepers couldn’t believe that he had to explain this. “If he already did, he would have told me!”

“And what if he thinks that way, only with you? I know Hater tends to usually be more forward with who he likes… But that’s what makes you special!”

Peepers groaned.

“PEEPERS! The watchdogs won’t stop barking at me!” Lord Hater came running down the hallway, a crowd of watchdogs following close behind him. They were all yelling loudly, and nobody could really make out anything they were trying to say.

“Oh grop, I completely forgot!” Peepers quickly stood up and ran towards the crowd, quickly trying to formulate a plan in his head as he confronted them.

Hater quickly ran to Peepers before standing behind him, glaring at the watchdogs who started chasing him.

Hater, without thinking, grabbed the journal from Peeper’s arms and threw it across the hallway. “FETCH!”

The watchdogs were quiet for a moment and looked at each other. Peepers looked to Hater.

“Sir, they aren’t—”

Before Peepers could finish, the watchdogs ran after the journal. They wanted to find the page that Andy read.

“Phew!” Hater smiled at himself for his clever plan. “What do you think that was all about?”

Before Peepers could think of a response, Wander ran up.

“Hater, C. Peeps has something to tell you!”

“WANDER!” Hater turned towards him, his fingers already sparking with lightning. Peepers turned his attention to the group of watchdogs that had started running back, much louder than before.

Wander began running in circles, with a screaming (and very angry) Lord Hater following close behind him. The group of watchdogs split: One group went after Hater, and the other went after Peepers.