#what is the best infant car seat

[thepersonnamedsam]

Hey hun, how are you?❤️ i saw you had only one tim bradford imagine. Can you do one from Tim’s pov where the reader is a part of the crew and she gets hurt during an operation with them and Tim who secretly has feelings for her has to save and protect her? Thank youu. Much lovee 💖💖

thank you so much for your request!

pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader, The Rookie x fem!reader

summery: see request :)

pt. 2

word count: 1.6k

warnings: age gap - reader is a rookie, reader getting hurt, season 3 spoilers, reader getting shot, blood, some swear words

note: enjoy :)) i hope it's something like what you had in mind

masterlist / taglist

It was your last day as a rookie. Chen and West were just as excited as you were. Finally, those days of Tim-Testing, as Lucy likes to call it lovingly, were going to be over. It was sad having to part from Lucy, you two have been riding together with Tim since the start of your rookie days. It wasn’t sure if Tim or Lucy would stay your partner, it had still to be determined. 

As you all sat in the car, Tim spoke up about the elephant in the room; both of your future in the station. “I’m just going to say it, Chen, you don’t have what it takes to be an undercover agent. You don’t have the killer instinct. And you, y/n, I don’t know if you’d make a great detective”, his eyes stayed on the road as you and Lucy looked at each other. “And what do you mean by ‘the killer instinct’?”, Luca was curious, she really wanted to be an undercover agent, so she would take all the help and information she could get. 

“You don’t have what it takes, it’s that simple. You must make your targets your best friends and then, bham, stab them in their backs. You don’t have that.” 

“Okay, uhm, thank you for that. I, uh, really appreciate it. Since we’re on our confessing train, I just wanted to tell you something, before we probably part”, Lucy looked back at you from the passenger seat and winked at you. What exactly was her plan? 

Tim had a confused look on his face. He was thinking the exact same thing as you did; what the hell was Chen’s plan. 

“It’s a little weird with y/n in the car, but when will I ever have this opportunity again. Tim, I like you, and not just a bit, I really like you. And I don’t know what we should do about it, because I feel your connection to me as well.” 

Tim was shocked, Chen liked him? No, this couldn’t be, he didn’t want it to be. Because he had been secretly thinking about you and counting down the days you were officially without a TO. If Chen liked him, what would you think? Did you know and helped her confess her love to him? So many questions were going through his minds, but they immediately stopped, as he heard a loud and annoying laugh. 

Lucy Chen was laughing at him. She was laughing at his shocked face and his horror filled eyes. She was laughing at him how genuinely confused he looked and how his body tensed up immediately. 

“Chill, Bradford. I was just joking. See, I do have your killer instinct”, Lucy said tauntingly to him. All while you were snickering to yourself on the backseat. His eyes found yours through the rear mirror. “And what are you laughing about?”, Tim’s look changed from shock to a cute smile. He couldn’t stop himself, as he saw you giggling all by yourself. 

You instantly stopped laughing: “Nothing, I was just looking for potential crime.” Tim smiled; sure, you were. 

Time went by, calls were answered, and crime was stopped but nothing interesting really happened. It was your last day as a Rookie, you wanted to have one more day of supervised action, oh, how you wished you could have taken that statement back. Because as soon as that AMBER-Alert came in, chaos erupted. 

An infant was missing, the drug-addicted and known criminal father was suspected. But as you three arrived at his appartement, the baby was not there. What he did have was a gun. You didn’t see it, but Tim did. It was too late to warn you, so as you tried to calm him down, he took his gun and shot you right through the stomach.

You fell to the ground.

Pain shooting through your whole body.

Your eyes closed, feeling like you were dying. 

Tim saw the whole thing in slow-motion, he saw the bullet rip through your body. He saw your body hitting the ground. He saw as your eyes rolled back into your head and he saw the life leave your body. Fuck – he was scared. What if you died? He would never be able to tell you his feelings. 

As Tim stood there frozen, Lucy arrested the man. She read him his rights and stored him away in the car. As she came back, she expected Tim to be performing first aid, but he still stood there, stuck, and frozen to the ground. So, she rushed to you, put pressure on the wound, you didn’t react – not a good sign. 

“For god’s sake Tim, would you do something?! Call for backup!”, Lucy was screaming. Tim snapped out of it, seeing his love hurt on the ground, he had to do something. He called for backup, and he rushed to your side. Taking your hand into his, squeezing it and hoping you would feel it. 

Lucy saw him holding your hand, wondering why he would do such a thing, it was Tim after all. The ambulance soon arrived and transported you to the hospital, all whilst you still were unconscious. Tim rode with you to the hospital, refusing to leave you alone. 

And as you laid there in a hospital gown, eyes closed and a tube down your throat. The bullet hit your large intestine and cause internal bleeding. You were stable after surgery, but the doctors didn’t know how long you had to stay in a coma. That’s why Tim was sitting at your bedside day and night. He had taken some vacation days to stay there with you, in hopes you would wake up soon. 

“I know you probably won’t hear this or me or anything basically, but I just have to let it out. If you die and I have waited too long to tell you, I don’t know what I would do with myself.” His cheeks were stained with tears. He had not cried in a long time, so him crying over you, just showed how much he actually cared about you. 

“I like you, no, I love you. I have for a long time. And I have not had the guts to tell you, because I didn’t want the others to think you only graduated because you were dating your TO. I wanted to tell you this evening, but this motherfucker ruined my plan.” 

Silence grazed your room. The only thing you could hear was the machine monitoring your heartbeat. A steady rhythm was heard, peep, peep, peep. His head spun. He thought after he confessed his love, you might wake up, miraculously of course. But you didn’t. You were still lying there with no reaction to his words whatsoever. 

Days had gone by, and you still didn’t wake up. It was hard for Tim, you technically graduated from being a rookie. Chen, West and Nolan all came by that same evening to celebrate a little, Nolan of course celebrated you and his other two friends, him not graduating that day hurt him a little bit. Lucy also came by every other day too. She sat there with Tim, still wondering why he was sitting there every day and waiting for you to wake up. 

Tim had to leave you alone. His work called and he had to back to being a police officer. It hurt him, not knowing when you would wake up. So, when he got the call from the hospital, his siren was on, and he sped to you. Walking slowly and nervously to your room, he wondered if you heard what he said. If you knew that he loved, you. 

As he stood there, leaning in the doorway, and looking at you, you slowly opened your eyes. Looking at him, him lightly smiling at you, you were thinking back to the day it all happened. You always liked him but were always too scared to tell him. Not knowing he felt the same way, you laid there awkwardly and waited on him to say something. 

“I’m glad you woke up”, he said. He smiled, his concern for you leaving his body. Walking towards you and sitting down you your bedside, he looked at you. He looked at you with so much love in his eyes, you couldn’t believe it. Some snippets from the coma came to your mind. “I like you, no, I love you.” No, this can’t be true, Tim would never be this sentimental. 

He took your hand in his, squeezing it hard. “Is it true you like me?”, a grin prominent on your face. A crimson color was faintly seen on his face. He was blushing! “You heard?”, he wasn’t sure if he liked that you knew. On one side he was glad, because he wouldn’t have to confess his love to you, again, on the other hand, how would he proceed? 

“I don’t like you”, he looked at you with some kind of desire in his eyes, “I love you.” 

The beeping sped up; your heart was racing.  “I love you too”, you said and squeezed his hand back. And as if planned, West and Chen walked through the door, they had heard that you woke up over the radio and as they rode together, they had decided to pay you a visit. Tim stood up from the bed, having to let go of your hand. 

“How are you? I’m so glad you woke up!”, Lucy smiled and gave you a hug, the same did Jackson. You were glad your friends were here, but you’d rather be alone with Tim right now. Having just confessed your feelings to one another, you just wanted to spend some alone time together. 

“I’m good, thank you so much for stopping by, I appreciate you all!” 

Tim had watched the interaction from the doorway. He smiled lightly, seeing you happy made him happy. A warmth spreading through his body, he was content. 

°°°

next part

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, self doubt, body image, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

- this chapter contains mentions of body image issues -

Chapter 11 - More of You | ‘Ours’

You tucked Teddy into her car seat. She was a little fussy but it was fine. This is what you and Trent had discussed. Spending more time together was important so you planned to drive with Trent to training this morning, Teddy in tow. She wasn’t the best in the car you thought it was mostly due to the fact that Trent was focused more on the road than her. As weeks went on your insecurity about her preference to Trent and indifference about you only continued to grow. You dropped him off at AXA and he said goodbye to you with a kiss as you got out of the car to switch seats to drive home. A tearful Teddy pulling on his heart strings as he walked into the building. You got home and you needed to give her a bath. This season had flown by. Having a child just made the days blur together and tomorrow was suddenly the last home match. To your surprise, Teddy actually really enjoyed baths, you wanted her to like them. It was much easier to do things when she enjoyed them. It was obviously important to keep her clean. You gently lowered her chubby tanned skin into the infant tub. Most of her body and face well above the water for safety. You poured warm water over her frequently to keep her from getting cold. You felt like you were constantly walking on eggshells around Teddy though. Anything to keep her happy, anything to get her to like you. You washed her with gentle soap and massaged her hair clean. She seemed happy. You plucked her out of the tub and wrapped her up in a fluffy warm towel. She looked adorable. You took a few photos of her now clean and bundled and sent them to Trent. Frankly, you were just relieved you were getting through another day but it was an added benefit when she looked so cute.

‘She’s perfection. Thank you for taking such good care of her. We’re so lucky to have you, mummy 😘’

“Hi…” you giggled as you woke up Sunday morning to Trents lips on your neck.

“Morning, baby. I have to get going but I’ll see you at the stadium.” he whispered in the quiet stillness of the morning. Trent had to head off to meet the team at the hotel down in the city centre before the match. You rolled over to face him and pressed your lips to his.

“Proud of you.” you whispered back and he smiled. Liverpool had a good season. It didn't go exactly to plan but they were finishing in the top 3 and Trent had done a great job his first year as vice captain. You were really proud of him. “Love you, T.” you cooed as he got out of bed and began to get dressed. He winked back at you while he pulled a white long sleeve LFC t-shirt over his head. After he left, you got Teddy up and sat and had breakfast with her. It was another day of mashed fruit, today, bananas. She made a mess. It was becoming a bit messier everytime she ate now as she was getting more accustomed to dictating her own movements and control of her motor skills. It was annoyingly cute to clean it all up every time but you were proud of her for doing her best just the same as you were proud of Trent for doing his.

For the final time this season you pulled the tiny #66 jersey over her curly hair and put her in the matching shorts. Every single time you saw the ‘daddy’ jersey it made your heart skip a beat. Even though you were struggling with your own things you really did love Trent and Teddy’s bond. For your own look, you went for something fairly simple a Loewe tank, a pair of printed Cargo pants, and white trainers. You put your hair back into a sleek bun because lately Teddy was loving pulling on your hair and it was driving you nuts. You brought one of the first Chanel bags Trent had gotten for you. You remember opening the box like it was yesterday. You were sat on your apartment floor in New York with Lauren.

You opened the box and undid the tissue paper painfully slow for her, picking up a dust bag before removing a silver metallic Chanel 22 handbag. Your friend audibly gasped as your hand grazed over the shiny calfskin. Neither of you were strangers to designer items, shopping being a favorite hobby of yours but again… to receive this from a man was different. A card was sat in the box and she grabbed it quickly before you could even try.

It was also the first time he invited you to come see him play at Anfield. Now, you were on your way in a car to see him play three and a half years later with your daughter. Trent’s whole family was there, some of his friends as well. It was nice to share these types of moments with them but also nice to have extra helping hands with Teddy at matches. Marcel loved being with Teddy. You had a built-in babysitter when he was around. He held her in the stands on the final sunny day at the stadium. Thankfully but expectedly Liverpool had won the match. After a few farewells to players that were departing the club you and the whole family made your way down to the pitch. You waited on the touchline next to Dianne holding Teddy. Trent ran over and wrapped his strong arms around you picking you up.

“Another one in the books” you cooed before you gave him a kiss. Trent hugged Dianne and then took Teddy to hold. You walked the perimeter of the pitch as Trent clapped thanking the fans for their support this season.

“Thank you for being so amazing this year.” he whispered in your ear, pulling you closer to him by your hips as you walked. “Couldn't do this without you.” he pressed a kiss into your hair.

“You’d be just fine” you giggled hearing the stadium sing ‘The scouser in our team’ as you processed by them. You took a billion photos. Memories you’d cherish for a lifetime. You held Teddy as Trent stood behind you posing for a photo.

“Did I tell you how good you look today? Almost had me distracted during the match.” Trent whispered cheekily as the photographer snapped away. You turned your head to get a better look at him.

“Don’t lie to me” you teased back. Teddy obviously wasn't going to let you flirt with her dad for long without an interruption. Her tiny hand grabbing Trent’s jersey to pull his attention off of you and to her. “Yes, Teddy girl, Daddy is still all yours, don’t worry.”

“C’mere baby bear” Trent grunted, lifting her up high as she squealed. “I'm still yours, baby.” he pecked your lips with his before he spun around with Teddy eliciting a fit of giggles from her. Trent, Tyler, Marcel, George, and a few other boys hung around on the pitch kicking a ball around. You loved football as much as the next person but truthfully you're not sure there was anyone who loved it more than Trent. He had just played 90 plus minutes and a whole season and that still wasn’t enough. You sat on the grass with Teddy in between your legs watching them for ages. You stayed for a long while out on the pitch with all the families and friends. It was always such a nice way to close out the seasons. It was definitely better if there was the trophy involved but this was still really nice. The club had organized a party after the match at a hotel down in the city centre the team used to meet before home matches. It wasn’t a formal event so you stayed in your clothes, Trent just changing into more comfortable Liverpool gear. You walked into a red decorated room. It was fun and you were happy to be out. You planned on having another good night celebrating with the team.

“This is my fiancé” Trent cooed introducing you to a man that had interviewed him a couple months back. Every time he said the word it felt like he was asking you all over again. When the conversation lulled you looked up at him.

“So we’re telling people, huh?” You giggled intrigued after he boasted all about your proposal to the man.

“Well we’re not hiding it are we?” He laughed pulling you in for a kiss.

A few days later, for one final time you were celebrating the success of this season with the club. The team was hosting a big dinner party for just the players and their immediate families. There were still a lot of people but it was much smaller than the party after the final match. There would be no media or outsiders. Only you and Trent were going. You had decided not to bring Teddy so Dianne had come over to watch her. You wanted to have a fun night out together. It was a fairly formal dinner. You wore a tiny little black Jacquemus dress and a Bottega gold heel. Simple but effective. Trent popped on white knit polo shirt and tan trousers. You were stood at the mirror of your foyer getting one last look before you headed out when he came over. He cheekily squeezed your ass and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You look way too good. Are you sure you want to go?” he cooed, inspecting the way your tits pressed together held by a flimsy gold metal charm. He ran his warm hands up your exposed back.

“Mmmmm are you sure you want to go?” You spun around and ran your hands over his chest fixing the collar of his shirt. His scent was heavenly. You felt like it sent you into a haze. You weren't sure you wanted to even go when he looked like this. “We could be a little late.” you whispered looking up at him. Trents eyes lit up excitedly until you heard Dianne calling for him. She wanted to double check where something was for the dogs.

“I can't believe I’m saying this but we should probably go.” Trent spoke walking back to meet you at the front door after going to assist his mum. He ran his hands over his face disgruntled that he was essentially turning down your offer to mess about.

“It’s okay, I’m really hungry anyways.” you giggled lacing your fingers with his. “Let’s go pretty boy.” you cooed before you went to say bye to Teddy heading out for the night. You had lied. You sat at a large table next to trent on your one side who kept his hand high on your thigh. You picked sparsely at your food the whole night. To your right, Andy’s wife sat. You’d definitely gotten closer since you moved to Liverpool. She had kids and was a nice confidant when it came to navigating the family and football crossover. You yapped about the engagement as she peppered you with questions about the wedding plans. You definitely had started thinking about things but really had made no movements. As it got later into the evening you started to get a little anxious. Your maternal worries about not saying goodnight to your baby setting in.

“You alright?” Trent asked subtly not wanting to draw attention to you. You looked at him and really could only see her face in his. Even though you felt a tensness about her affection towards you, you still missed Teddy and wanted to be with her.

“I know she’s fine with your mum, I just miss her. I don’t want her getting used to going to sleep without one of us there.” you tried to explain quietly to Trent.

“I understand, but it's just one night, baby. Relax a little.” he tried to comfort you but it kind of felt like the wrong thing to say. His hand squeezed your bare thigh.

“T…” you whined looking at him not really happy with his response. “I need to get home to her. You stay honest. I’m sorry. Do you mind?” you gave him a sad smile. You felt guilty wanting to leave the celebration but you weren't going to be much fun with all this anxiety weighing you down.

“I’ll go with you, yeah? I just want to spend my time with you anyways.” Trent cooed, adjusting his position in his seat as if he was going to stand up right away. You placed your hand on top of his resting on the table. You shook your head ‘no.’

“No, baby. I will see you when you come home. Have fun for me. I want you to have a good night.” you tried to reassure him. He felt uneasy about the whole thing but you were adamant about leaving alone. Andy’s wife gave you a hug goodbye. She understood what you were feeling and after you left she made an effort to tell Trent it was all fine. You went home to Teddy. Dianne was surprised you were coming in alone but she didn’t say anything. Trent had done well and deserved to let loose with his teammates. You sat in Teddy’s nursery listening to the white noise and her tiny snores as she slept peacefully. You were cross legged on the couch and began to rethink your decision. Your heart was much more at ease with eyes on your baby girl but your brain was running rampant at the thought of Trent on a night out. You trusted him wholeheartedly. He had been texting you since the moment you left but you just felt off. You initiated this. You left him. You told him to stay so as you laid in your shared bed, it occurred to you that the feeling of annoyance you were experiencing was completely self inflicted. It bothered you that he was out, having a good time while you were worried about your little girl who no doubt would be more excited to see him in the morning than you. You were jealous.

Trent came home, late, loud and drunk. You shoved your annoyance down and gave in to his incessant need to be closer to you in bed. It wasn’t his fault. You woke up the next morning and went about things as usual. A normal day although not so normal because football was now on pause until preseason began in a few months time and a few England international friendlies that were also on the schedule. You went into your town to get lunch with Trent and Teddy wanting to get out of the house and take advantage of the nice weather. You sat outside at a restaurant and picked at some chips while Trent bounced Teddy on his knee when an older woman had approached your table.

“Just wanted to tell you how gorgeous your family is. She is absolutely stunning. Looks just like her dad.” she smiled complimenting you all. Trent entertained the women as he gushed about how great Teddy was already. You smiled and nodded a long. A tinge of your heart hurting that everyone noting just how much she looked like him and never you. Before you returned home you ran a few errands. You were in the queue at a shop to check out when Teddy began to cry in her pram.

“Hey, hey, teddy girl, what’s wrong?” it was so sudden you didn't understand. She had been so good all day. You picked your head up to look for Trent because you were next in line. Between your crying child and the waiting cashier you were getting overwhelmed. It occurred to you that Trent had stepped out the door to answer a phone call and that was what triggered Teddy’s fit. Daddy had left. You shut your eyes frustrated and sad. You apologized to the cashier. The girl at the register gave you a soft sympathetic smile watching you struggle to pull your credit card out from your wallet as you simultaneously tried to sooth Teddy in your arms.Trent walked back in and rushed over.

“What happened?” he asked inquisitively and confused. He plucked her out of your arms and she began to calm. Her cries quieting, her movements stilling.

“Nothing. It's nothing.” you snapped a little at him. He was so lost. Why were you all of a sudden mad at him? You walked to your car carrying the bags aggressively.

“Let me take them, baby.” He offered seeing you struggle with the weight.

“No” you blurted out again quite harshly.

“Hey… what the hell is going on? What did I do? I thought we were having a good day? Is this about last night? I thought you wanted me to stay, I was doing what you told me to.” he began to ramble as you stood in the car park.

“No! It's not about last night. It's about literally every single night and day.” you began to cry. Trent instinctively pulled you into him. He just wanted to calm you immediately but you had worked yourself up too much. His arms wrapped around you tightly and securely. You heaved against him. “She loves you so much more than me. I don't understand. I carried her for fucking 9 months and all we ever hear is how much she looks like you. I feel horrible.” you pulled away suddenly though realizing what you had just said. “Oh god, I’m fucking terrible. I didn't mean it like that. She’s beautiful, you’re beautiful and I know you do so much for her and us and you deserve all the love she gives you. Ugh!” you sighed frustrated. “I’m sorry. I’m just jealous and it’s making me really sad.” you pouted as the tears continued to run down your face. Trent's face was almost blank; he was so taken aback by the sudden outburst but he wasn't exactly surprised with the way you were feeling. He saw your body language shift every time someone told you Teddy looked just like him, everytime she wanted to be with him, all the times your daughter clung to him every second that he was around her. She refused to let her daddy go, breaking your heart all done with an adorable grin and a soft giggle.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I wish you didn’t feel this way but I respect the fact that you do. It’s been really hard, this adjustment. I can’t do as much for her as you do and I know that. I wouldn't be able to handle this without you, I can’t even feed her the way you can and it kills me when you feel like she’s rejecting you. I know you might not see it or feel it but I know she appreciates you so much. She relies on you. She loves you, baby. I love you. She needs you, I need you.” he cooed, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“It's not fair, I just want her to smile at me the way she smiles at you. I want her to want me. I do so much for her. She takes up my entire life and then.” your breath started to hitch and rapidly increase. “And then she takes you away from me.” you started crying more.

“Aw, Y/N. C’mon.” he pulled you in for a kiss. “C’mere. No one could ever take me from you. You always have that number one spot. It’s just different, baby. You don’t think I’m jealous you give her all your attention?” he laughed at his own admission.

“I don’t know…you shouldn't be. You’re always mine. She’s just… ours. We have to pay attention to her. You can usually feed yourself, you know? She can’t” you giggled.

“She’s ours but you’re just as important in my life, alright? You make everyday possible. Teddy and I couldn't survive without you and certainly wouldn't be able to laugh if we didn't have you.” he told you earnestly.

“I like those laughs. They’re my favorite sound to hear. I just get envious of how much more she laughs with you.” you hesitantly continued explaining your insecurities to him.

“Well, I’m very funny.” he joked before he picked up Teddy from her pram. “I’m kidding. C’mere, baby bear. We love mummy so much, right?” he asked her and she giggled like she always did with him. “That’s a certified, yes.”

“Okay, can we go home? I’m really embarrassed I just cried in a Waitrose car park.” you hid your face in the nape of Trent’s neck. He laughed a little at you and squeezed your waist before you alll got back into the car to head back to your house. When you arrived you put Teddy down for a nap.

“Do you want to sit out in the back garden? I feel like maybe we should have a longer chat.” you sheepishly asked Trent to come and sit with you. You had to get some things off your chest. You felt so sad you needed to confide in him but you were nervous to confess how you’d been feeling.

“Yeah, course. Go on, I’m following you.” You always envied the way he didn't give off a nervous energy. He was just calm all the time and here you were were practically shaking. “Want to sit with me or do you need the space?” You sat down on a lounge chair across from the couch he was sitting on silently answering his question. “Alright… baby, I love you.” He took a deep breath pausing. He was taking the reins here. As much as you’d been struggling, things had been weighing on Trent as well. “I want to talk here but you’re gonna have to be honest with me. You’re crying in bed at night. I know you're not eating enough, you’re making me nervous and I don’t know how to help you.” Trent’s calm demeanor you so admired dropped as he spoke. He looked at you desperately showing just how concerned he had grown.

“T… I….” you stumbled around the words not sure what to even say. You knew he wasn't oblivious but you had no idea he was even paying attention to certain things especially your eating habits. “I’m sorry” you said, choking back tears.

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to be happy. I thought I was making you happy.” he looked across at you confused and heartbroken. He wanted you to come sit with him but he didn't want to push his luck with your boundaries right now.

“I am just having a really hard time. You give me everything. I promise you make me so happy. I'm so in love with you I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Everything just feels so difficult though. I feel like a stranger in my own body. I feel sick when I look at myself in the shower. I feel like I’m disappointing you.” Your tears began to fall. You watched your hands shake as they rested on your knees.

“Stop… nothing is wrong with you and you could never disappoint me. I wish you realized that you are an absolute dream to me. I wake up everyday in bed with you and I genuinely am amazed I managed to pull you. You’re the most beautiful, loving person. You take such good care of me and Teddy. Baby, I am so in love with you. Please, do not forget that.” he pleaded but you just couldn't hear it. You couldn't wrap your head around it.

“I just don’t feel that way…” you croaked out scared to even admit it. You felt guilty the moment the words left your lips.

“You don’t think I love you?” Trent was immediately put off and offended. He felt his heart drop. “Y/N, I’m being patient here but are you fucking kidding me?” He transitioned into an angrier voice. He was really trying to be supportive but how many times was he supposed to try to convince you he loves you.

“No, it’s not that. I just don’t know why you do. I don’t get it. I'm scared and overwhelmed.” you quivered fearful of his change of tone.

“Scared of what? I just don't know why you can’t accept that I do. I don't get it.” he snapped harshly using your exact phrasing to throw your comments back at you. “Baby, what do you want me to do here?” he sighed, feeling frustrated. “I need you to be healthy. I need to make you happy. How do I do that? I asked to marry you and you said yes but it’s like you don’t believe it” He stared at the ring on your finger catching some of the sun's rays.

“I don't know…” you whimpered, standing up on shaky legs and walking over to him. Even though you were mid fight all you wanted was to be comforted by him. “I’m sorry.” You cried. Laying on him. You sat next to him and pressed your forehead against his arm.

“Come here.” he wrapped you in his loving embrace. “Got to get you to see what I see. I need you to know how amazing you are for yourself, for me, for Teddy. Hmm?” He pulled your forehead off him and pressed his lips to your skin. “You wanna know why I love you? Why I want to marry you, why I wanted a baby with you? I wanted more of you in this world. That's how perfect I think you are. I wanted one more bit of you out there. I have the most beautiful daughter in the whole world and everyone can say she looks like me all they want but that's not the first thing I think of when I look at her. All I see is you. Her nose is just like yours, her laugh is starting to sound just like your childish giggle. The way she feels in my arms reminds me every bit of you. I love her because of how much I love you. And as much as I want more Y/N in the world, I’m selfish and greedy and there’s only one of you to go around so I’m not letting you go. I’m fucking marrying you. You’re mine, baby. All mine, made just for me and I’m made just for you.” You began to cry pressing your lips against his. The summer heat and his words warming your cheeks.

“I love you so much, T. Thank you for loving me.” you waffled

“I’m always going to but I just need you to love you, please. You're hurting my heart here. We’re eating good from now on. Me and you gym dates. Getting this ass in moving.” he squeezed your hip. “None of this water for breakfast. I’m not having my baby girl growing up around it. You’re beautiful and you're perfect and she needs to know that and so do you. I’m not doing enough if you don’t know how gorgeous you are. I think about this body, this face all day. I dream about you even when you're in my arms. You need to know that.” His eyes watered a little with his sincerity looking longingly into your eyes.

“Baby…” you whimpered out cowardly. You felt terrible that he felt he was doing something wrong when in reality this was a problem that had been planted long before you even met him. It was complicated. “The way I feel about myself is a culmination of a lot of time feeling really scant. Social pressures from everyone around me, the people that were supposed to love me, didn’t. I promise you, T, you have healed and helped me in so many different ways. This just isn’t something I can just turn off all of a sudden.” You leaned further into him feeling saddened by your own reality.

“I won’t ever understand but I can try. Just let me in at least. I’ll be here with you. It’s my job to take care of you. Would you want to spend some time in the gym with me? Gainz season, innit?” He squeezed your wimpy bicep teasingly.

“Okay, okay, okay. I’ll go as long as you’re there.” you couldn't help but crack a smile at his persistence as well as some memories you’d had made a few cheeky times down in the gym of your house.

“I’m gonna be there.” he replied, running his hand up your thigh. You knew he was asking you from a perspective of wanting you to feel confident and strong not in an effort to change anything.

“Shirt off, please.” you requested with a giggle, grazing your hand underneath his t-shirt. You dragged your nails over his abs.

“Oh yeah? It's like that now?” You nodded cheekily. He scooped you up as if you weighed nothing. Carrying you into the house.

“Where are we going? It’s nice out.” You complained but not minding being in his hold. It would've been nice to enjoy the weather though but maybe inside wouldn't be so bad.

“You think you can put your hands on me like that and I’m just gonna move on. We’re going inside. You’re going to lay down on the couch f’me” he whispered to you as his lips ghosted over your ear and he began nibbling on your earlobe.

“Really? What am I doing on the couch?” you giggled excited now, definitely not upset you were not staying outside.

“Shirt off, please” he teased, mocking what you said to him before he kissed you. The feeling of his lips on yours sending shockwaves through your whole body.

“Mmmm more.” you pursed your lips for another kiss craving more of him as he walked you inside.

“You wanna know how much I love you?” He cooed, laying you down on the cream colored couch in the big living room. You leaned back into the cushion before you moved forward eagerly towards him.

“I can feel how much you love me…” you practically moaned, grazing your hand over the bulge in his shorts now. He began to peel your clothing off piece by piece. There wasn't much on you to begin with so it didn’t take long. He pushed your legs upwards, bending you in half bringing your knees all the way up to your tits. His mouth watered looking down at your glistening pussy begging for him. Trent dragged his tongue through your drenched folds. He dipped in and out of you. His cock twitched at the way your jaw slacked in pleasure. He began to circle your clit before he pulled away with a cheeky grin. He looked so unfairly gorgeous beneath you. You felt dizzy watching him. Your slick glossing all over his perfect pink pretty pout.

“Tell me what letters you feel, baby.” he commanded you before he dove back into your pussy. A dangerous smile curling on his lips. He dragged his tongue in the form of the letters of his initials on his fiance’s pussy. You moaned out the letters he drew and well, hearing you moan out the initials of what was going to be your own last name soon was simply a bonus.

“T… ah fuck. A… A” you cried out. You weren't exactly as innocent as you presented but you liked when he treated you like you were. You knew exactly what you did to Trent as you pulled on his hair now or when you dragged your nails up his abs moments ago outside.

“Say my name baby.” he cooed and you practically melted. You fell apart. Trent loved you. He loved you so much it almost hurt. Everything about you just shattered him into a million pieces. Watching you cum right now only amplifying that feeling. The way your lips curled into the perfect little smile. He loved the way you whined when he touched your body, the way you reacted to him.

In swift movements, he was aligning his cock with your sopping entrance. His abs rubbed against you, he crushed you blissfully with his weight. He looked down at you fucked out of his mind madly in love with you. He collected enough spit in his mouth before he made you open yours. He spit his saliva into your mouth. You swallowed diligently with a moan.

“Such a good girl f’me.” he gripped your chin looking longingly into your eyes. He loved everything about this. Being in control of you. You letting him control you. You wanting him to control you. He tucked his face in the nape of your neck. He nibbled on your sensitive skin. His hair tickling you. Hoarse grunts escaping him as you soaked him. He hit that spot deep inside you, only he knew. All you could think about was the way he hit that spot again and again, continuously. He felt so good when he dropped his hand between you to rubbing your throbbing clit. He knew how to make you cum and he was going to do it well. “Tell me what I want to hear, baby” he whispered in your ear. Tears ran down your cheeks from pleasure and emotion.

“I know you love me. I know you love me. Fuck! T, you’re gonna make me cum.” you were a total mess beneath him looking gorgeous to him cumming all over his cock. Trent couldn't help himself from stuttering. The sex became sloppy and lovesick. He thrusted into you sporadically. You felt him begin to twitch inside you. “Cum inside me, baby. I want you to fill me up, please. T, Tell me you think I’m sexy.” you begged as you listened to Trent’s breathing became more labored. The knot in your stomach tightened when he spoke again.

“Fucking hell, you’re so sexy. You’re the sexiest woman in the world. Perfect for me. This pussy’s perfect for me. It’s all mine.” You couldn't keep it together any longer when he kissed you passionately. He groaned before he pumped his cum inside of you. “Jesus christ, baby. So good.” he breathed out as his pelvis grinded against your throbbing clit.

“I think I believe you now.” You began to giggle as he buried his face in your tits.

“Yeah, that’s all it took? Which orgasm was it? I particularly enjoyed hearing you as I spelled my initials on your clit.” He breathed heavily on top of you with a cheeky grin.

“T! You laughed embarrassed by his crass bluntness.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.” he cooed, peeling his slightly sticky body off yours. He pressed his lips sweetly to yours. You hummed at the sensation. He ran to the kitchen to get a cloth to clean you up. After he did, you went upstairs and woke Teddy up from her nap. You came downstairs holding her as he sat on the couch since turning the telly on while watching something. You talked to Teddy like you would a girl friend your age.

“I know, and then daddy told me I was beautiful so I kissed him.” You spoke loud enough to her for him to hear you babble on.

“Are you talking about me behind me back?” he sat up on the couch looking at you two lovingly.

“Just telling her how much daddy loves mummy.” you giggled squishing Teddy to you and kissing her cheek. You walked towards him carrying your little girl.

“Glad we’re on the same page then now.” he pulled at your arm dragging you down clumsily falling into him. You laughed carefully checking that Teddy was okay. “I love you.” He kissed your forehead. “I love you.” He kissed Teddy’s forehead. And you knew he did. He meant it.

You fell into the ease of the summer. Things were calm between Trent’s workouts preparing for the upcoming season and Teddy growing up painfully quick. She was almost 9 months old which was insane. Where did all the time go? She could understand instructions and was beginning to imitate your words using gestures. You spent the summer months lazing around trying to get comfortable with your body and motherhood.

Trent had an upcoming England international match. It was an odd one away in Moldova and you mutually agreed it wasn't worth you and Teddy traveling for. It was too much of a fuss. You sat with her before bedtime the day he traveled. When Trent was away the favorite part of his days were when you called with Teddy. A Facetime he just starred into missing you both, screenshotting everytime Teddy did something cute. Which felt like every minute. He had a folder in his camera roll dedicated to just Teddy’s cute little face. Teddy sat on your hip leaving toothless bites on your bare shoulder.

“Can you say night night to dada.” you muttered quietly as she sleepily let out a yawn.

“Miss my girls so much. Gonna watch tomorrow f’me Ted?” You confirmed she would and reminded him of your plans for the next day. You were headed down to London tomorrow to watch the match because Lauren was visiting the city for a brief moment and you wanted to catch her. You had planned to go to a viewing of the game at a pub you agreed upon prior. You were running late as you hurried through the tube station with Teddy getting off near Covent Garden. Lauren arrived before you and was sat at the bar saving a stool for you. You opted to bring Teddy in a baby carrier because it was easier for you to navigate instead of pushing your pram by yourself. You maneuvered your way through the crowded pub. You squeezed Lauren from behind, greeting her.

“Helloooooo my Laur” you cooed taking a seat next to her, a couple on the other side of you sat with matching England kits on.

“Oh my goodness! Hiii!!! Look at this big beautiful girl.” Lauren said, pinching Teddy’s cheek before helping you get her out of the carrier. England’s pre game warm ups flashed across the screen. “Is that daddy?” Lauren asked Teddy as she got settled on your lap.

“Oh isn’t daddy so handsome “ you giggled gawking a little bit at Trent’s physic as he wiped some sweat off his face pulling his jersey up towards his brow revealing his toned abs.

“God, he’s so hot…” Lauren sighed when the camera panned to Jude after Trent passed him the ball. You laughed at her. She leaned her head onto your shoulder. The women sitting next to you laughed as well hearing Lauren’s comment.

“Mood.” she concurred. You all had a little laugh but the mans she was with was a little less than impressed. Trent and Jude seemed to have a polarizing effect on other men. They wanted them on their footie teams, loved them for winning matches but almost loathed them for the way girls flocked and talked about them so blatantly.

“So I’m assuming you’re going to see him after this?” you cooed quieter to just Lauren looking at her. Interested in her plans.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to overstep but are you Y/N?” the girl next to you asked butting in before Lauren got a chance to answer your question.

“Oh, gosh yeah, I am. That’s me.” you were taken aback anytime anyone recognized you. It was still so foreign. You didn’t really merit any recognition of fame but you understood the intrigue people had wanting to know more about Trent’s life.

“I follow you on Instagram! I love you and Trent. You’re the perfect couple.” she cooed. The man with her leaned forward now interested hearing you were in a relationship with Trent. “Is this your daughter?” She asked. You got a little nervous. You had kept Teddy fairly out of the public eye to date.

“Mmmmhmm. This is my Teddy girl.” You cooed, holding her on your lap with one arm smushing a kiss to her cheek. You subtly spun the ring on your finger to turn the diamonds underneath to hide it out of the strangers next to you’s view. You felt really exposed all of a sudden. You wanted to keep the engagement private for the time being. Trent told you weren’t hiding it but you felt scared. You barely even got to celebrate it yet. Things had been so hectic and tense lately. Now didn’t really feel like the best time to put your personal life out there one random day sitting in a pub.

“Is that daddy, baby?” you cooed filming yourself and her on your front camera as the second half began. You panned the camera to show Trent on the screen. She squealed and giggled excited to see his familiar face. You sent the video to him. He responded an hour later once the match had finished. As much fun you had catching up with Lauren, you couldn't wait to get back home just for Trent to walk through the door again. You waited impatiently the next day for him with Teddy in your arms.

“Oh my goodness! Look who’s home! Is it dada?!?!” you cooed softly rocking her back and forth walking towards the font entrance when you heard him. Trent dropped his bag at the door, the way that drove you mad but you couldn't care less at this very moment. You were so happy he was home. Teddy excitedly gasped and kicked in your arms eager to get to Trent but unable to do so on her own. Trent pressed his lips to yours and you felt your heart falter a little. It was the kiss from someone who really, truly loved you. Loved every bit of you and every bit of the little girl he scooped up out of your arms. He kissed her chubby cheeks and pouty lips and she squealed.

“Missed you so much, my beautiful girls.” he cooed, pulling you into him, wrapping you and your daughter in his secure, warm embrace. He held Teddy in between you both as her giggles filled the room as you simultaneously kissed each of her cheeks.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 12 xx

[storm-angel989]

Can I request Valentino x wife!reader where they take their 2 months old daughter to get vaccinated and Val just can’t stand to see his little princessa cry after receiving a vaccine shot

Oh my god this is the SOFTEST Valentino thing ever. I love it! Enjoy!

Valentino watched as his wife lifted the baby from the bassinet. Typically he would be right by her side, assisting wherever needed. But for the moment, he held back, baby carrier in hand as he watched his reader, his wife, snuggle the baby to her chest. It didn’t matter that neither of them had slept a full night in two months, or that they only showered that morning by the grace of Vox’s canceled meeting. He wouldn’t trade the sight of her holding their daughter for the world. 

He set the carrier down and stepped forward. He carefully took the baby from her, leaning over and placing her into the protective seat with careful hands. The infant blinked up at him with the same blue eyes as his wife and cooed. 

“That’s right niñita, Daddy’s here,” he said softly as he lifted the entire carrier up. “We’re taking a trip downstairs, okay bebita?” He lifted up the entire carrier, leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek as they stepped into the elevator. 

Doctors appointments for any other infant in the world would involve a trip in the car, a potential rescheduling of naptime, and ensuring everything the child could possibly need when leaving their home was carefully packed in case of emergency. But for Valentino’s daughter, the trip simply involved a baby carrier, a diaper bag, short elevator ride and perhaps most importantly, her father ensuring his studio was absolutely empty. 

Admittedly, never did he think he would be using the high tech nurses office he installed in the studio for anything more than medical fetish pornography, or the occasional employee with sex toy induced emergency, let alone his daughter's eight week old check up. But the convenience of having a pediatrician work around their schedule, and having access to everything in house couldn’t be ignored. And for Valentino, clearing the studio was less of a feat than taking a trip outside of the V tower. 

As soon as the elevator door opened, they stepped out and carried the infant down the hallway and into the office. Upon arrival, his wife immediately began the discussion with the doctor. He left her to it as he lifted the baby from the carrier and held her to him. 

“Are we in a new place, muñeca? What do you see?” He asked as he gently cradled her so that she could see the entire room. “I see two blue chairs,  and one green table, and a silver container full of white cotton balls and…”

“Val? Bring her back over, doc is ready,” his wife interrupted his conversation with their daughter. 

Begrudgingly, Valentino walked back to where they stood and handed the baby over to the doctor. He watched her carefully as the doctor weighed her, listened to her insides, and examined her thoroughly to be sure she was okay. As soon as she was finished, Valentino picked his baby girl back up and held her back to his chest protectively. 

“Everything looks great,” the doctor said cheerfully. “She’s due for her two month vaccinations- three shots and then I’ll see you again in a month.” 

Valentino gritted his teeth. “Shots?”

Reader nudged him, “Val, we talked about this.” 

As someone who had given and received more needles than most, Valentino knew first hand the pain they caused. And that was the last thing he ever wanted his sweetheart to experience. 

“Are they really necessary?” He asked uneasily. “She’ll cry and…”

“And you can pick her up and cuddle her until she settles and then we’ll go home,” his wife interrupted calmly. “You and I both did the research. We talked to how many doctors? We both decided this was the best course of action for her.” 

Hesitantly, Valentino handed her back over to the doctor. As soon as she left the warmth of his arms, her cries began. His wife tucked her arm into his and laid her head on his shoulder. Valentino laid a comforting arm on his wife and grimaced at the sound of her cries. 

Valentino knew it was the best choice for her.

Valentino knew the shots would protect her in ways he couldn’t.

Valentino knew that they had done everything possible to make sure this was the best decision for their daughter.

But the facts didn’t make his heart hurt for her any less. Nor did it make the innate instinct to take his child and get her as far away from the source of the pain any less powerful. As soon as the last bandaid was put on, he swept his daughter up in his arms and gently rocked her. His wife turned to the doctor to review the follow up procedures as he comforted the screaming child. 

“Shush, Princessa. Daddy is here. It’s okay. I know it hurts,” he muttered. “I’m sorry little one, I promise it was for your own safety. I know, I’m sorry it hurt.”

“She’s probably hungry too, Val,” Reader said softly as he tried desperately to soothe his daughter. “Let’s pop over into your office and I’ll nurse her before we go back upstairs.” 

He looked at the clock. She had a point, it was almost her lunch time. Or was it snack time? It didn’t really matter either way- she ate almost every two hours. He passed his daughter back to his wife and picked up the empty baby carrier, along with the diaper back. Together they left the nurses office, and made their way back towards the elevator. He let them into his work office and reader took her usual place on the couch as Valentino locked the door. 

He sat next to his wife as she nursed their daughter. He put his arm around her and gave reader a soft kiss on the top of her head. There was something primal, something pure and so incredibly beautiful about seeing his wife feed his daughter. Bottle or breast didn’t matter to him- it was the early mornings, late nights and sheer dedication to this tiny little baby. No matter how exhausted she was, she always put their child first. Something Valentino recognized and did everything in his power to only take care of their baby, but to encourage his wife to take care of herself. 

“Here, I’ll burp her,” Valentino said when she was finished. 

Reader handed her over to him and he held her upright against him. He pulled the cloth out of the diaper back and draped it over his shoulder before he positioned her so her head rested against the cloth. Carefully, he stood up as he patted her back. He walked around the room as he thumped her back firmly.  

“You’re pretty good at this you know,” Reader’s voice came from behind him. He felt her lift the dry corner of the cloth and out of the corner of his eye, saw her wipe the little girl’s mouth. “Spit up should bother you more than it does.”

“Babies are pretty much just more delicate versions of inebriated adults,” he replied as she took the infant from him. With his now free hand, he lifted the diaper bag up and slung it over his shoulder. “They eat, they sleep, they cry, they throw up, and then they sleep again. It’s basically the same thing.”

Reader laughed as she settled the baby back into the carrier. “You have a point. What do you say we get this little one down for a nap and then…” she paused and let out a grin. “Have some alone time?”

Valentino pushed open the door, “only if by alone time you mean sleep.”

She laughed and walked across the dark studio to the elevator. “Of course that’s what I meant.”

[aphroditeslover11]

Heyy!! I was thinking for Tommy how about a fluffy piece where he’s introducing Reader to his family. Thankss! Lots of love to you:).

Hi, I’ve done my best with this so hope you enjoy it. I enjoyed writing it as ever, love a bit of fluffy Tommy!

Meet The Shelbys

Warning: as you would expect for peaky, consumption of alcohol!

This was possibly the most nerve-wracking car journey of your life. It was Tommy’s birthday and, as he was Tommy Shelby and had absolutely everything that he could ever want or need, you had decided to ask him outright what he wanted. After telling you repeatedly that you didn’t need to give him anything he relented, saying that, as you had been together for a few months now, the best present that you could give him would be coming to spend an evening at the Garrison with the entire Shelby clan. That was where you were going now, sat in the passenger seat, fiddling with your hands in your lap whilst trying not to let on how nervous you were to Tommy

“I can tell you’re nervous love. I promise that they aren’t as bad as everything you’ve probably heard about them,” he said in a vain effort to comfort you.

“I know Tom, I’m just anxious that they won’t like me, I’m not exactly like the rest of you.” That was very true, with you having grown up in the countryside on your father’s estate, it wasn’t to the proportions of a place like Chatsworth, but certainly more comfortable than the Shelby’s Birmingham upbringing.

“I’m sure they’ll love you, just like I do,” Tommy reassured, reaching to bring your hand to his face so that he could place a gentle kiss on the back of it.

“I just hope that you’re right.”

“What do you mean, I always am.”

~

When you arrived at the Garrison the first thing that hit you was the smell of alcohol, it was like walking into a room of gaseous whiskey. Then the noise reached your ears, glasses clinking and men shouting, celebrating the end of the working week with a pint or five. You subconsciously reached for Tommy’s hand as he led you through the crowd to the bar.

“A whiskey and a wine Harry, are the others here yet?” he asked the barman.

“They are Tommy, in the snug as usual, who’s this lovely lady on your arm, if I’m allowed to ask?”

“Harry, this is my beautiful y/n, she’s meeting the family for the first time tonight. Y/n, this is Harry, best barman in all of Birmingham.” The barman then turned to you.

“I’m guessing that you must be nervous love, they aren’t so bad though, your Shelby is the worst by a long way.”

“I am a bit,” you admitted with an anxious smile.

“Do you drink whiskey love? might help take the edge off your nerves a bit.” You nodded in response. “I’ll make the order two whiskeys then.” You could tell Tommy was starting to get impatient, sighing impatiently at your side.

“Harry, I’ll thank you not to speak of me like that infant of my woman, and she’ll be drinking wine not whiskey thank you, send the drinks through to the snug when they’re ready.” You went to protest but Tommy cut you off before you had chance. “You know that you’re banned from whiskey until you can prove to me that you can handle it after the state you came home in last time, and I’m hoping that you might say hello to everyone before you get yourself absolutely rat-arsed.” He did have a point, so you acquiesced and allowed him to lead you into the smaller room off to the side.

The first person that you met was Polly, she was a little prickly to begin with, but once she had got the measure of you she was soon very welcoming, obviously she wanted to be sure that you were good enough for her nephew before she let you feel at home. Next came Ada, who wrapped you into a hug before Tommy had even had a proper chance to introduce you.

“I don’t care who you are or where you come from,” she said. “But you must be a saint if you can put up with Tommy.” This made everybody laugh, which was what drew your attention to the men on the other side of the table.

“Love, this is John, Arthur and Finn, my brothers.” Tommy stepped back up again.

“It’s nice to meet you at last. You know Tommy doesn’t shut up about you, so it’s nice to finally know who you are.” Arthur was the first one to speak to you.

“I can assure you that I’m really not that interesting” It was the John’s turn to join in.

“Well, Tom clearly doesn’t agree because we were all threatened with death earlier if we dared say anything to upset you. And I’m guessing that he doesn’t want you to know that from the look on his face now.” Tommy wiped the glare from his face before you had a chance to see it, placing an arm around your waist.

The drinks arrived, more were ordered as the evening went on and it wasn’t long before everyone found themselves at least slightly inebriated. You were sandwiched between Arthur and Ada, Tommy having started to talk business with John whilst the others were more interested in you. The conversation had taken many turns and you were just getting on to embarrassing stories about your boyfriend.

“When he was little Tommy and me used to get into fights all the time, he was a scrawny wee thing, but he had the stubbornness of a pack horse, never gave in. I always used to have to let him win so that he wouldn’t make me keep punching him until he got a concussion.” Arthur had you and Ada laughing hard. “He still won��t admit it all these years on.” Now it was Ada’s turn.

“He was an absolute devil to have around when I was a teenager, he always ruined any fun that I could have, he’d have had me under house arrest if Polly would’ve let him. Do you remember Arthur, that time that he caught me with that lad down by the cut and threw him into the canal?” Arthur nodded in ascent. “I swear he’d have thrown me in as well if it hadn’t meant we’d still be together. I asked him why I couldn’t have my own fun when he spent his life drinking in here and gambling and he just went off in a huff.”

Realising that you were talking about him Tommy turned to your little group.

“And what would you be saying about me over there?”

“Nothing bad Tom, just warning her what she’s getting herself into,” joked Arthur.

“I hope that’s it. She knows that I have plenty of things to say about her if you’re telling stories.”

It was nice seeing Tommy around his family he was so at ease around them, it was unusual to see him smiling and laughing in company unless it was just the two of you alone.

~

At the end of the evening you said goodbye to everyone, Tommy smiling at your slightly drunken self as you hugged everyone goodbye, completely transformed from the nervous wreck that you had been earlier. He had to practically drag you away from Ada, whom you had been getting especially friendly with, only managing to pull you out by promising that you could all meet up again soon.

[vodika-vibes]

Yo, could i get a Delta Squad story where Boss brings in his firstborn child to the squad? Hehehehe

Delta Squad's New Addition

Summary: Two months after his son was born, Boss decides it's time to introduce him to his uncles.

Pairing: Clone Commando Boss x F!Reader

Word Count: 1461

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Boss asks as he watches you carefully bundle the infant up in thicker clothes, “I don’t mind waiting to introduce him to my brothers.”

You roll your eyes, “Boss, babe, you’ve been chomping at the bit to introduce little Alyn to his uncles since the day he was born.” You press the little boy into his father’s arms, “Why do we only own orange clothes for him?”

“Because that’s what color armor I wear. You thought it was cute.” Boss points out dryly.

You pause and squint at him, “And you let me?”

“The first time I tried to suggest that we buy other colors you started crying, so I took the high road and just didn’t mention it ever again.” Boss replies.

“...I cried? Over clothes colors?”

“You were very hormonal.”

“Ugh.” You make a face, “I’m sorry.”

He chuckles and leans over to kiss your temple, “It’s okay. It’s a relatively minor thing, after all.” He watches you carefully pack the diaper bag, and he stops you with a laugh, “Cyare, sweetheart, I am able to do all of this.”

“I know, I know.” You sigh, “I’m just…a little anxious. Your brothers still don’t know about me, and now your introducing Alyn to them, and I just-”

“Everything is going to be fine.”

“What if they scare him?”

“They won’t because then they’ll have to deal with me.” Boss says patiently, “And you need this. You’ve been going non-stop since you got pregnant almost a year ago. You deserve this break.”

“I-”

“Go. Spend time with your friends at the spa.” Boss kisses your forehead, and then ducks his head to brush his lips against yours, “Have a nice, fun, relaxing day. And don’t worry about anything.”

“You’re asking for the impossible, love.”

“Try to not worry about anything.” He lightly tucks some hair behind your ear, “I know worrying comes as naturally as breathing to you, but trust me.”

You sigh and lean into his touch, “I do trust you, I’ll try to not worry so much.” Just then your friend pulls up in the speeder and parks in front of the house. “Um, let me know how it goes?” You kiss Alyn’s forehead, and then look up at Boss.

“Of course.” He kisses you one more time, and then gently nudges you out of the house and into your best friend's waiting embrace. 

He waits until the speeder is gone, before he looks down at the baby in his arms, “So, are you ready to meet your uncles, ad’ika?” Alyn just yawns widely and grips his finger.

Boss steps into the debrief room where his brother’s normally are, and he’s not the least bit surprised to see that the only one there is Fixer. He sets Alyn’s diaper bag on a table, and carefully sets Alyn’s car seat on the table next to the bag, and pulls him out of it.

Fixer stares at the baby, his jaw slightly slack, and then his gaze slides over Boss, who is dressed in casual clothing, and his jaw drops a little more. “Vod…Boss…you…who..-?”

“Where are Sev and Scorch?” Boss asks as he offers Alyn his finger.

“...training room-” Fixer says slowly, “Are we really not going to mention the tubie? I feel like we should talk about the tubie.”

Boss rolls his eyes and then walks across the room to his brother, “Fixer, allow me to introduce you to my son, Alyn.”

“Son. You have a son-?”

“He’s two months old now.” Boss says calmly.

“...where’s his mother?” Fixer asks, his voice hushed as he offers the baby his finger.

“I sent her on a spa day. She’s been going non-stop since she found out she was pregnant a year ago, and deserves a break.” Boss replies, “Do you want to hold him?”

“Can I?”

“Take off your gauntlets and chest piece, and you can.” Boss says easily, a small amused smile crosses his face as Fixer quickly strips the top part of his armor off, faster than he’s ever done it before. Boss chuckles and passes Alyn into his brother’s arms.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Fixer says quietly, as he looks down at the baby in awe.

“Wife,” Boss corrects with a wry smile, “I have a wife.”

“And you haven’t introduced her to us?” Fixer asks, looking up at his brother, slightly hurt.

“We’ve been busy.” Boss says with a shrug, “And it’s not exactly like it’s legal, vod.”

“...oh. Right.” Fixer mutters, “None of us would have ratted you out, Boss. You have to know that.”

“Course I do. But I also wasn’t about to risk my pregnant wife until I was sure that she was safe.” Boss replies easily, not feeling the least bit guilty about it. “I’ll introduce you all to her when she comes to get Alyn later today.”

Fixer opens his mouth to say something, only to pause when there’s some loud voices, and then Sev and Scorch push their way into the room, and stop as soon as they see Boss in casual clothes and the baby in Fixer’s arms.

“What the kriff-?” Sev breaths out as he walks over to Fixer and peers at the baby in his arms, “Who’s the tubie?”

“Boss’ son,” Fixer replies.

“Son!” Scorch and Sev turn startled eyes towards their brother, “You have a son?”

“Obviously, seeing as he’s right there.” Boss says with a roll of his eyes.

Scorch strips off the top part of his armor and makes grabby hands towards Fixer, “Let me hold the baby,” He whisper hisses, “What’s his name?”

“His name is Alyn, it’s a family name from my wife’s family.”

Scorch and Sev stare at Boss, stunned, “You’re married?” Sev asks blankly, “Since when!?”

“For over a year now. You’ll meet her this evening.” Boss replies as he watches Fixer pass Alyn to Scorch, “She’s taking a rest day at a spa, she deserves it. Seeing as she handled the pregnancy mostly on her own.”

“If you told us-” Scorch says between cooing at the baby.

“Nothing would have changed,” Boss says easily, “I know that. And so does she. Luckily, my wife is amazing enough to handle everything on her own. Though she shouldn’t have to.”

“Are you going to have more?” Sev asks as he peers at Alyn over Scorch’s shoulder.

“Maybe, probably, eventually.” Boss shrugs, “She’s still recovering from Alyn’s birth, so she said we can talk about it in a year, and no sooner.”

“I can’t believe you managed to find a wife and have a son, and I haven’t even found a girlfriend,” Scorch grumbles, though it’s clear that he’s not actually upset.

“Well, he is Boss,” Sev says with a laugh, “It only makes sense.” He pulls of the top part of his armor and sets it next to Fixer’s and Scorch’s, and then he leans over to lightly trail a finger through Alyn’s curly hair, “His hair looks red.”

“Red runs in my wife’s family. Her mother and both of her grandparents are redheads,” Boss explains, “Though she says that he looks like me.”

Three sets of eyes focus on the baby, and then over to Boss, “Yeah. I can see it.” Scorch finally says.

“He does look an awful lot like the tubies back on Kamino,” Fixer notes, “Though I’m sure some of his mother’s features will come in as he ages.”

“He has our curls,” Sev notes with a slightly smug grin.

“Apparently he was born with a full head of hair.” Boss pulls out his comm, and swipes through some pictures, “Ah, here we go.” He turns the device towards his brothers, “My wife, and Alyn, an hour after he was born. We were on a mission, so I couldn’t be there, but my wife’s best friend made sure that I was kept up to date.”

Fixer frowns, “I remember that mission, you were super distracted all day, I thought you were feeling under the weather, not that you were worried about your wife.”

“I tried to hide it.”

“You did a shit job,” Sev says, “Even I picked up on your nerves.”

“Yeah, yeah. I was hoping to be there for the birth, so I was annoyed that I couldn’t be.” Boss says with a scowl, “Besides, we got through just fine.”

“Yeah, if not a little rushed.” Scorch teases, before he hands Alyn to Sev, “You said we’re meeting your wife this afternoon?”

“Yeah. She said she’ll bring food.” Boss replies, “She’s a little nervous about meeting you all. So be nice.”

“We’re always nice!” Scorch says.

“Bullshit.”

“We’ll be on our best behavior for our sister-in-law.” Fixer interjects, “Do you think she’ll bring wedding pictures?”

[romanoffsbish]

I’ll Be Home For Christmas…

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

… If Only in my Dreams… (Part 2)

Warnings: Meanish/Distrusting Yelena, Violence, Blood, Pushy Men, Angsty/Open Ending.

Smut: Fingering(R), Oral (R), Mommy (N), Detka (R), Praising!!, Teasing, Marking, and Nipple Stimulation.

18+ | Minors DNI

"My love, it's okay, I can assure you that Eliana and Jackson will be perfectly fine at Clint's for the week.," you smiled softly at your wife, doing your best to convince her that leaving your six month old daughter, and two year old son behind is a forgivable offense., "It's not worth it.," she huffs, and you shake your head., "Anything to get Yelena to stop staring daggers into me whenever she visits is worth it.," you muse lightheartedly, but the redhead sees straight through the facade and to your hurt.

Of course she wants Yelena to trust you, but it doesn't feel like enough of a reason to head off into the snowy tundra's of Russia; to the same motherland that only ever brought them pain. Still, in a weird way it also offered them a bit of comfort, and that happens to be exactly why you chose this destination. You'd wanted to meet Yelena on a turf that was familiar to her, where she knew the lay of the land and you didn't—offering her that extra bit of security, and hoping that if by just knowing more than you she would feel a smidgen safer.

Natasha threw the luggage into the trunk, and watched as you rocked your daughter to calm her knowing cries. Eli had always been so perceptive, anytime Nat had to leave for a mission before her recent retirement the infant would wail. You could calm her fine, but Nat had always had the special touch to soothe her. She swiftly made her way back to you, scooping up your son so he'd not feel left out, she then pulled you and Eli in for a group hug., "Moya milaya malen'kaya sem'ya, kak zhe ya tebya lyublyu.," and at the sound of her mama's voice Eli's cries faded into sniffles, and as her face was no longer blanketed by the shade of the hug you could see she'd regained her peace.

(My sweet little family, oh how I love you.)

"That's so unfair.," you whined while settling into the passenger side of the car, shifting in your seat you pulled your knees to your chest, and looked over to pout up at your wife. She looked to you with stern eyes, but the slight amusement was readable in her soft smirk., "Detka, sit properly—that's really dangerous.," you groaned, putting your feet back down, then she rewarded you with a peck to your lips, "You're such a mom...," she simply shook her head at your childish behaviors, then she started the car and began the hour long journey into the city to meet Yelena at the compound where a quinjet was waiting for all.

As soon as she parked the car in Tony's garage she tapped your shoulder to wake you up, she watched you in pure adoration as you stretched out your limbs, much like your cats Liho and Bonnie usually do every morning beside you., "Good morning sleeping beauty.," she teased, and you smiled widely at her, meeting her halfway when you saw her leaning in for a kiss. She hummed against you, more than satisfied with the cherry chapstick that adorned your pillow soft lips. Had it not been for the loud knock on your window that startled you away from your wife she'd likely have stayed here lazily making out with you for at least an hour.

Yelena stood off to the side, her arms were folded over her chest, and she wore the signature scowl you'd grown accustomed to. It was designed with you in mind—the American woman that was allowed to love her sister, but had apparently waited years to make a move.  To her it makes no sense, why did it take you three years to make it official? Not only that, but she’s yet to see what possibly could’ve drawn Natasha to you—you were her opposite.

Yelena had no faith in you, she trusted you just as much as she did Dreykov, and even then she at least knew what to expect with the sleaze ball. With you it was all sunshine's, and rainbows, but she was truly convinced it was all a ploy; no one is that happy. It felt to her as if you were only here to give Natasha a false sense of security, and in the end it would be revealed that you were just another person sent to ruin the redheads life and to break her heart. She was here to see to it that you didn’t have that chance, she just needed to find proof.

It was irrational, especially when Natasha had repeatedly told her herself that you were true, but until Yelena could truly understand you she would never be able to believe it. Because even when she sees you with your shared kids, everything in her says you're only just playing the part of a doting wife, and adoring mother. Yelena found this trip, that was your idea, to be the perfect opportunity to seek out her truth. Because if her deep suspicions reign true then she would have no problem killing you in her home country for her sister's sake.

Natasha got out of the car first, hugging her sister tightly while you collected the luggage., "Vesti sebya.," You then greeted Yelena with a friendly smile and wave, but all you got in return was a curt nod before the blonde was making her way to the quinjet., "This is going to be harder than I thought.," you quietly muttered to yourself, but of course your wife heard it, and in turn she brought you in for a tight hug, and a reassuring kiss., "This will either work or it won't moya lyubov', and if it doesn't then it's her loss, because I mean it that this is her final chance to come around."

(Behave)

Disagreeing with your wife would've been of no use, you knew that when she said something so profound that she meant it. Yelena's on her last leg with her sister, so you were going to do all you could this week to convince the blonde you were of no threat to your wife, kids, nor her.

The flight to Russia was long, even with the jet cutting it in half, so most of the time you spent sleeping in your wife's lap while the jet flew itself. Natasha ran a hand up and down your side while reading a book she'd been waiting for all year, all the while ignoring her sister's harsh glares until she was annoyed enough.

"Ona ne vrag.," Natasha suddenly spoke, causing Yelena to move her glare up from you., "My uvidim ob etom.," Natasha groaned at her sister's continual resistance to your existence., "Perestan' byt' takim nedoverchivym. Ona moya zhena, a ne KGB.," Yelena shrugged at her sister's pleas for blind trust, and opted instead for planning to do her own research.

(She's not the enemy.) (We'll see about that.) (Stop being so distrusting. She is my wife, not the KGB.)

When the jet landed outside of the secluded cabin you rented Natasha gently woke you up., "Moya lyubov', we're here.," she smiled down at you, her heart melting at the dopey smile you gave her, and at the tiny squeaks you had produced while stretching., "It's kinda cold.," you observed, causing the redhead to chuckle before pulling you up and into her embrace., "Welcome to Russia detka.," she mused, the both of you shared a sweet kiss, then Natasha was quick to wrap her jacket around you to shield you from the frigid Russia air.

Yelena quietly observed the two of you in your intimate bubble, part of her found Natasha's carefree side to be a good sign, but she still held deep reservations that kept her guard up. Once the both of you got off the jet she was soon to follow, entering to find you were set up in the kitchen making dinner, and Natasha was in the room she picked out for the both of you. Yelena said nothing as she passed you by, and headed straight to her room to freshen up.

You sighed at the continued cold shoulder, but it wasn't anything less than expected on your end. Yelena was stubborn, seemingly more so than Natasha had been all those years ago, so you knew earning her trust would take time. For dinner you decided to try to start bridging the divide by making borscht, then for dessert you made a delicious honey cake, and it was all finished just in time as the sisters entered the room in the midst of a conversation in Russian while you were applying the finishing touches.

"Hey, perfect timing! Dinner is ready.," you announced, a friendly smile on your face in the hopes that Yelena would see you were trying., "I'm not hungry.," the blonde deadpans, but in a contradictory manner she snatches a granola bar off the counter and heads back to her room, leaving you looking more than defeated. That simply broke your wife's heart, and if not for your hand tugging her towards the table she'd have given Yelena a piece of her mind., "It's okay Natty, this will take time, she doesn't trust me, of course she won't trust my food."

Natasha did her best to cheer you up, telling you stupid stories about Clint while eating far more than she should have, but the way you lit up at the sight of her enjoying your attempt at a traditional Russian meal made the incoming stomachache more than worth it. After eating she urged you into the shower, telling you to relax and that she'd do all the cleaning.

Yelena took this brief moment to do some snooping around, she quietly rummaged through your belongings, looking for any clue that you weren't who you said you were, but then she heard your playlist shuffle to her favorite song, and she nearly blew her cover., "So bye-bye, Miss American Pie, drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.," she approached the bathroom door with intrigue., "Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye; singing, 'This'll be the day that I die.,' "she smiled, a genuine one when she heard you singing the song, and reflexively she whispered along too., "This will be the day that I die."

Then she heard the sound of running water coming to an end, the thought of either of you finding her in here a frightening one, so she made quick work to return your items to your bag before slipping out just in the nick of time before Natasha was making her way back to your room. As you exited the shower though you were hit with a whiff of pine, and vodka; Yelena had been in here, and you were not even the slightest bit mad as you hadn't nary a thing to hide, and hoped she discovered that.

Natasha entered the room a few minutes later, a wide smirk on her face as the space now smelled distinctly of your lavender products, and you were stood there in a pair of panties with your back to her while sorting through your bag for weather appropriate pajama's. Quietly she tiptoed over to you, her arms snaking around the soft skin of your waist, and her chin resting on your shoulder., "You smell so good lyubov'.," she softly whispered, her lips brushing against the skin of your ear causing a shiver to run down your spine., "You cold?"

With all the strength you could muster you hummed a soft yes, but the shake you tried to hide was prominent to the spies ears., "I've got a surefire way to warm you up moya lyubov'," she rasped into your ear, her lips quick to press against the bare skin of your shoulders, and a moan left your lips against your will when she began to suck the skin between her teeth., "Just say the word baby, and I'll have your body warmed up in no time.," her hands were softly cupping your breasts when you gave her the go ahead she needed., "Please, I need you so bad Natty...," your wife's callous thumbs trailed over your hardened nipples in a silent confirmation, she was internally beaming over how easy it was to be getting her way.

In quick succession her hands fell to your hips to spin you around, and just as she expected you were wearing that soft smile of yours, with eyes that swam with immense waves of love. This sight of you so willing to be at her mercy always excited her., "You are so beautiful, my perfect angel, always so ready to please.," and before you could mumble your agreements her lips were swallowing your heartfelt words.

Natasha seamlessly guided your body back to the mattress while her tongue explored the familiar territory that was your mouth. Gentle was the name of the game tonight, so she took extra special care to cradle your head, and lower back as she laid you down beneath her., "Moya lyubov', you gotta be quiet for me.," she mumbles against your jawline as she's begun trailing soft kisses along your skin en route to your nipples., "Can you do that for me detka?"

Feverishly you'd nodded, but as she pinched your nipple, pulling a muffled whimper from you, it was clear she was expecting words., "Yes, mommy, I promise to be quiet.," her lips wrapped around your nipples, the widow sucked upon the nub harshly in an attempt to tease your limits, while nimble fingers slowly trailed down your body, procuring a line of goosebumps from the side of your breast, down your stomach, and stopping at your thigh.

Her fingers remained on your thigh, tapping every once in awhile just to taunt you while Natasha paid such close attention to your breasts, leaving her deep marks behind. She was expertly working you up until your entire body was burning with a desperate need for so much more. It was just as she promised, that familiar warmth quickly spread throughout your body when those fingers you craved so desperately finally pushed your panties to the side, and slid right on into your wet heat.

Natasha had released your nipple with a pop, wanting to see the strain in your face as you did so well with restraining your reactive sounds., "Good fucking girl.," she praised, plump lips leaving a wet kiss in between the valley of your breasts, a raspy chuckle soon following as your body shivered over the simplest of praises. You'd always been such a good girl for her, it was something she truly appreciated, but she'd also be lying to say she didn't have a wonderful time punishing you when you're being a brat.

While her fingers were thrusting deeply into your squelching cunt, her lips were traveling down your body to join their effort, and upon facing your arousal smeared folds she let out a small groan of her own., "Such a generous pussy you have moya lyubov'," she smirked when a tiny whimper managed to breech your lips, her fingers instantly stilled inside you, the way you looked down at her was truly pitiful., "Keep it quiet detka, or I'll have to stop.," she warned right before sucking your clit into her mouth, her free arm flying up to still your hips.

Natasha loved how needy you always were for her, to be needed by you was her greatest joy, and to bring you to the brink of pleasure was something she would never willingly give up. Her fingers had met quite the resistance due to the way her tongue was swirling around your sensitive nub, and with how her teeth were occasionally grazing over it, it had all left you teetering deliciously over the edge, and your lover who knew you like the back of her hand, knew that it was likely going to be impossible for you to contain your pleasurable screams.

So her free hand that had been previously holding your hips still made its way up your body, giving a slight squeeze to your throat, that was met with your walls mirroring her actions as they harshly clenched around her. Natasha continued to move her hand up, she tapped three fingers over your lips, you were grateful for the offer, releasing your lower lip that had been painfully being held prisoner you allowed her digits to slip right in—just in time.

Natasha's fingers muffled your intense screams, the orgasm she'd built you up to so slowly came rushing right out of you after she curled her fingers one final time, pressing into that deeply rooted pleasure point within you, all while her tongue lashed over your clit. Slowly she brought her fingers to a stop, she could feel you whining around her fingers as she removed them, but her replacing them with her tongue seemed to settle you instantly.

She dove her tongue into you as far as she could to garner as much of your arousal as she possibly could, Natasha was never the type to waste, she cleaned you up happily, getting lost in the moment even. Moans of all sorts left her, and to no one's shock you came again. It was a true delight to the redhead, she could never get enough of you, and she only ever removed her face from between your thighs when she heard a sniffle, and felt you suckling on her fingers in an obvious attempt to self soothe.

Natasha kissed all the way back up your body until her face was hovering above yours, her eyes were staring into yours adoringly, the sight of faint tear tracks softened her, and her lips quirked up affectionately before they were pressing to yours in the most caring manner., "YA tebya lyublyu.," she sighed against your kiss swollen lips, "Moy prekrasnyy rebenok.," her forehead was pressed to yours, your shaky breaths fanning across her face, warming her slick covered cheeks, and her heart was soon to follow when your brain cleared up just enough for you to croak out an., "I love you too."

(I love you) (My beautiful baby)

"There she is.," she cooed just before smirking., "Tell me now detka, are you all warmed up?," you softly glared up at your wife, earning you a playful warning glance., "Yes mommy.," she hummed in approval., "Thank you.," and at the show of manners she couldn't contain herself, she laid kisses all over your face, the giggling you were emitting only further spurring her on until your face turned to catch her lips.

Natasha briefly reciprocated the sweet kiss, but much to your dismay she removed her body from atop of yours, and the cold left in her wake caused you to squeal in distress. In that moment your wife wondered why she agreed to this trip, you've never been good with the cold., "Shh, moya lyubov', it's gonna be okay.," she cooed, her movements were swift when moving to clean you up, whispered apologies all she had to offer as the warm rag still came with a chill., "There we go angel, all nice and toasty."

You reached up for your wife instantly, because even with the thick sweatpants and t-shirt combo you wanted to create an inferno under the blankets with your collective body heats., "Just a moment detka, gotta change into my pajamas, then I'm all yours.," and within a minutes time Natasha was slipping beneath the many blankets you'd collected, and pulling you into her warm embrace., "Sweet dreams."

—

When morning arrived it was accompanied by a groan of displeasure, the clock flashing 5:00AM, you cursed the chill in the air that had managed to seep through the thick comforters, and inevitably caused your eyes to flutter open. Natasha instinctively awoke at the sound of your grievance, her eyes quick to observe your pouting face, the sight had her instantly pulling you even closer, and she was quick to kiss you., "What's the matter moya lyubov'?," you sighed, shifting to your side to face your wife, and for a moment all your problems seemed far away.

Then another wafting of cold air across your exposed arm left you to shiver, and the redhead knowingly smirked., "Need some warming up? Is that it my sweetest girl?," her teasing was followed by hearty laughter when you tried to shove her away., "You're far too insatiable.," she only laughed harder., "Well, when you have a wife like mine, and no kids around for miles, what else am I meant to do with this time?," you deadpanned., "Make your sister like me.," and with your pained words she was frowning., "It'll happen detka, it's hard not to love you, and Lena will see that soon enough.," the redhead settled a loving kiss to your forehead., "I'll make breakfast today lyubov', you rest."

Natasha left the room shortly after making the offer, she'd wanted to hold you in silence for a moment, and you held no protests, her arms were one of the very few places you felt safe. Once she left you pondered what to do with this day, then you decided it best to be a lazy day, one where Yelena would be able to get to observe you and Natasha in your element. Nothing extravagant was necessary, and so you threw on a pair of sweats, Nat's Shield hoodie, and a pair of fuzzy socks before making your way to the living space. Yelena had been sat on the couch while talking excitedly with Natasha about her dog—Fanny, and you truly felt guilty when the conversation died as you entered.

Seeing the sisters so close left your heart aching, it'd been months since either had the time for one another, and you think that's in part to the arrival of Eliana. Natasha saw how her constant absence affected her bond with Jackson, and whenever Eliana wailed for her she hardly had it in her to leave anymore. Those tidbits, accompanied with the night she came home to find you passed out in the tub, exhaustion written all over your features were enough to push her towards her retirement.

It left you to wonder if most of Yelena's reservations stemmed from the "suspicious" hold you had on your wife. Natasha was reluctant to leave the house without you nowadays, she was once a free agent who found familiarity to be boring. Never one to stay in one place for long, then you showed up, popped out a couple of kids for her, and suddenly her preferred Saturday is a night in with her family. There's nothing wrong with such things, but to Yelena it almost seems like you weakened her sister, and she wonders why else would you have sought to do that if you weren't an enemy of some kind.

A part of you worries that the poor girl is still entrapped in the "Love is for Children.," mindset you once found Natasha living in. You're also starting to fear that the blonde is failing to realize that you and Natasha had actually bonded over being free agents, that you didn’t change her, the both of you just simply evolved.

The two of you met when Tony recruited you to join the Avengers team of misfits, the powers you held a clear benefit to them. Natasha was wary around you for the better part of the first year, but after an undercover mission that lasted three months she warmed up to you. Even still, she was guarded, and it took you two years of being a member to convince her to even consider you as a close friend. On off days you began to take her to your favorite places, odd spots off the radar of most civilians; you would tell her stories of your times at Hydra where your powers were forced upon you. Eventually this led to her sharing her story, the twisted tales of the Red room, and the ones about the lost sister she always wished to find.

After three years of knowing one another, the obvious sexual tension had grown rather thick between the two of you. Neither of you were willing to ruin the fostered friendship, until that drunken love confession at a Stark party, spurred on by your jealous rage at seeing Bruce so close to the redhead. Natasha smirked upon hearing you admit your feelings, rather happily she welcomed your advances, she was only ever flirting with Bruce as a means to pass time until she would have the courage to go after you, and luckily for her it worked in her favor, because once she had you it was game over.

The marriage, and the family came after a close call with your health a year later. Cho grimly informed you that your powers were actually killing you. The powers to manipulate poisons, and fire to the worlds benefit were having a reverse personal effect, and the only way to fix anything was to render you powerless. To undo all that Hydra did, and to return your physiology to a base level. Natasha had been terrified, especially when you considered not going through with it. Having these powers was all you'd known since your teens, and to part ways felt a bit too wrong; forbidden really.

But having Natasha screaming at you before sobbing uncontrollably, sharing all her dreams for an eventual life with you solidified your decisions, and now here you both are—reformed adrenaline junkies, consumed by an unwavering love for one another, with two blessings created from that aforementioned love, and a stubborn in law trying to ruin all the good in which she doesn't understand.

Natasha hadn't been looking in your direction when the tense silence fell, too focused on not burning the pancakes and bacon to even spare a glance back. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that you must've gotten up for Yelena to have suddenly stopped gleefully shouting. A heavy sigh fell from her lips at her sister's unending animosity towards you, and she herself was wondering if this was even worth it anymore. It'd been a year since she found Yelena, and what was once a happy discovery has been tainted by this perplexing divide the younger widow has created.

Nevertheless, she is going to give this one last chance for your sake, so as to not leave you feeling guilty about the downfall. Ever the mediator she enters the dining area with plates of food, instructions given to the both of you to join the table, and for a few moments you all eat in tense silence until she finally breaks it., "So ladies, what's the plan for today, hm?"

Yelena's cutlery clattered against the table, but she said nothing, leaving you to look to your wife with eyes full of obvious discouragement., "I thought today could just be a lazy day.," your wife hummed in contemplation, sending you over a comforting smile after a moments time., "That sounds wonderful moya lyubov', we can each pick out a movie to watch.," she offers, and without giving it away she kicks her sister in the leg, a silent message to cooperate or else.

Natasha saw you visibly relax when Yelena mumbled out a disgruntled "Yes.," her heart even swelled when you went from pushing the food around your plate to scarfing it all down.

—

"Pochemu ona tak mnogo spit?," Yelena asked her sister who'd been admiring your sleeping face for the last few minutes. Natasha didn't appreciate the judgement in her tone, but she answered her anyways., "Ona dolgoye vremya bolela, poetomu teper' spit naugad, chtoby prisposobit'sya k izmeneniyam v svoyem tele."

(Why does she sleep so much?) (She was sick for a long time, so now she naps at random to accommodate the changes to her body.)

Yelena's frown she'd been wearing deepened, she knew the bulk of your story, but this is the first she's hearing of you ever being sick., "Chem bolen? Pochemu ty mne ne skazal?," Natasha scoffed at her sister's truly offensive question., "Eto bylo do togo, kak ty vernulas', i ty yasno vyrazila svoyu nenavist', tak chto bylo bespolezno govorit' tebe, Yelena.," the bite in her tone made Yelena recoil, she'd yet to hear it even with how she'd treated you thus far, but it was clear to the blonde her sister was fed up.

(Sick with what? Why didn't you tell me?) (It was before you were back, and you made your hatred clear so it bared no use telling you Yelena.)

The sisters both turned back to the TV, the movie you chose one that Yelena actually liked herself, and for the first time since meeting you she thought that maybe you weren't that bad.

—

Come lunch time the sisters had both moved onto doing their own thing, and you found yourself back in the kitchen cooking, but this time the meal was for your wife, and you. No sense in making food for the blonde again, so you left a box of Kraft on the corner of the counter, with a bottle of hot sauce before slipping out of the communal space to return to your wife. Yelena hurriedly made her way into the kitchen once she heard your door shut, the smell of whatever you had made wafted to her room, causing her stomach to grumble.

After seeing Natasha so upset earlier, and definitely not because everything you made had her salivating, she decided she'd at least try your meal, but she found herself to be pretty disappointed when finding the used pots empty and in the sink. The resentment that never truly left was back to the forefront of her mind, and just as she prepared to huff like a petulant child she found that you had extended her an olive branch of sorts by leaving factory sealed favorites of hers on the counter.

—

The following few days went much the same, Natasha did most of the cooking, with you there to guide her since this wasn't her strong suit. Then you'd plan out some activity for the day that Yelena reluctantly agreed to on account of her sister's ever present scowling from beyond your shoulder. It felt like you were making headway too, the blonde was greeting you without prompting, or at least you thought she was, but now that you're sat here watching her fight with her sister in Russian you understand the previous peace was a ruse.

Today was the fifth day of the week long trip, and it seemed to be off to a very rocky start, with Nat having received a call from Steve pleading for help. Retired as you both may be, you were reluctant to cut your found family off completely. Since you were in Russia he asked your wife to do some simple intel collection, a job that required hardly anything of her, and she finally accepted with your given blessing.

Yelena was not as gracious., "Ne ostavlyay menya s ney nayedine.," she seethed in her mother tongue right before your very eyes., "Prekrati, tebe pora zadumat'sya o vzroslenii Yelena.," Natasha growled back, her body half way out the door already, and with a harsh glare the blonde let her go, and stomped back to her room like a tantrum throwing toddler.

(Don't leave me alone with her.) (Stop it, it's time for you to consider growing up Yelena.)

"Wow, no wonder her and Jackson are best friends.," you teased your wife, successfully lightening her mood as she chuckled, and she was even more grateful that you had made your way over to send her off with a tender kiss., "I'll be back shortly detka, I promise.," her eyes were apologetic, and yours were forgiving, silently telling her that all was going to be fine.

—

Yelena had been held up in her room for hours, and after another laugh came from you she had had about enough. Entering the living room in a rush she made her way in front of the TV to block you from watching., "Do you have to hog the only form of entertainment in this cabin?," you found her childlike manners amusing to say the least, but the disdain was growing tired., "Yelena, there's multiple seats here, feel free to take one, but if that doesn't work for you on account of you pointlessly hating me, then maybe go build a snowman or something."

The blonde was taken aback by your words, because though the proposed hatred was real, it had been an unspoken truth up until now. Mostly because she hadn't decided if the hatred she felt was deeply seeded, or just a cover up for something else, but either way she found your confidence in verbalizing it admirable. Silently, she sat herself down, choosing to watch whatever you selected, and you fought to hold back a smile at your subtle win.

"Natasha said you were sick.," Yelena states matter of factly after many beats of silence., "Yeah, I was.," you curtly replied, unsure if you were willing to let this be the first, and potentially only conversation the two of you will have engaged in., "What kind of sick?," you sigh, using the remote you turn off the TV, and turned to face her rather unamused., "Not that it's really any of your business Yelena, but to make a long story short my powers had been slowly killing me, and had it not been for your sister's persistence I was going to let them."

Yelena looked at you mildly shocked that you'd confess something so vulnerable when all she's been to you so far is cold., "Why would you let Natasha fall in love with you, then selfishly choose death over loving my sister back?," you chuckled humorlessly at her preposterous question., "That wasn't what was happening in that moment Yelena. Those powers I'd had to lose were all I knew for a very long time, and letting go was scary.," a tear fell as you recalled that day, but you did your best to continue as you ignored the salty droplet on your cheek.

"Death never scared me all that much, it was as natural an occurrence as breathing, truly merciful in nature really. If I'm being honest it was the living that left me terrified, every step I took carried this massive responsibility, and to finally have a say in matters that concerned me left me leaning towards letting nature win out. My pragmatic mind reasoned that Nat would be fine, but when I finally looked to her I was never more sure in my decision to stay."

"What did she do?," you felt uneasy answering, this was all so vulnerable, and it didn't feel like you were sharing with family here, it felt more like an interview with one of the nosy tabloids. Still, you were willing to share if it earned you some of her trust, or at least less of her hatred., "Well, besides all the screaming she did, it was actually the initial look in her eyes. They held this concoction of emotions, but beneath it all was this childlike fear that broke my heart. After all those stories of her loss, and grief I couldn't believe I'd considered leaving her, and so I simply went back to having no powers."

Yelena hummed, leaning back into the couch she turned back to watch the TV, leaving you feeling a bit used, and very heavily vulnerable. Fortunately for you, it was now 4PM, so it didn't surprise you when your phone rang, you stood up to excuse yourself, wiping away the tears before you answered on the last ring., "Mommy! Loot! I go potty on da big potty.," you smiled warmly at your son, failing to see the brief concern flashing over Clint's face., "I'm so proud of you mommy's big boy!"

You watched him dancing around the bathroom, his chubby cheeks jiggling, and bringing a genuine smile to your face. While Jackson was washing his hands based on your instructions, your eyes drifted towards Clint., "Where's Nat?," you heard the concern in his voice, and internally you slapped yourself for letting him even see you like this., "Mission.," Clint nodded, though he was a bit confused, you knew he'd be sure to call her right after.

"Mommy, Mama come home soon?," your sons voice was full of a sadness that cracked your heart right open., "Mhm baby, just be a good boy for a couple more days and we'll come to get you.," your son blew you a kiss before he ran off to watch cartoons, and Clint gave you a few minutes to stare at your little girl who'd yet to wake up., "We'll call back at bedtime, bye for now Y/N.," you smiled at the man, then you allowed your face to fall as the phone clicked.

Upon entering the kitchen to make dinner you found the blonde already working on it., "Hm, what poison shall I expect to be dying from tonight?," you asked., "I'm an expert in all things poison you know.," your anxious heart settled some when Yelena genuinely snorted., "Fortunately for you, I left all of my arson back in the states."

"Good, arson is such a boring poison anyways, you'd have been better off using cantharadin.," you observed the way her shoulders became a smidgen less tense, and you chocked it up to a win while reaching for the last bottle of rose, and allowing a bit of silence to fall while the blonde fixed what looked to be meatloaf.

—

Natasha's mission was truly effortless, she actually enjoyed the familiar field work, but the high faded fast; she entered the cabin scowling after a phone call with her best friend., "Yelena, what the fuck did you do?!," she shouted, but when she saw the two of you sat at the table giggling she was taken all the way aback., "Natty, you're home! We made dinner!"

"Actually, I made dinner while Y/N polished off our last bottle of wine by herself.," Yelena mused, and you giggled whilst haphazardly throwing yourself into Nat's tense body. The way she instantly softened at your touch wasn't lost on Yelena, she was starting to see that you were truly no threat after an hour spent asking your drunk brain for answers, and listening in partial disgust at the way you practically swooned over Natasha, and told her stories of your life together she'd never needed to hear.

Nevertheless, she was starting to come around to you, being forced to share a space alone with you clearly worked in everyone's favor today. Natasha was still confused, but to see Yelena was talking to and laughing with you, and not staring daggers into your soul like normal was an obvious improvement, and she wasn't about to question it. She sat down, pulling you into her lap with ease as she did, feeding you and eating the delicious mystery meat all while having a calm conversation with the both of you that veered so far off track that you're all now getting ready to head to a Moscow bar.

"Natty! Did you see? She's warming up to me.," you squealed, and your wife smiled fondly, she'd always found your excitable nature rather adorable., "Yes lyubov', I saw that, but I also heard you were crying. Care to explain?," her hands were cupping your cheeks so that you'd be forced to face her in case you tried to lie for her sisters benefit., "Yelena asked me all about when I was sick, and it felt kinda icky telling her, but it's okay now, I promise!"

Natasha's face remained unreadable for a few seconds, then you melted into her touch when she smiled at you, her lips tenderly pressed to yours and for a moment you lost yourselves in the kiss., "Hello! I am ready, so you should be too.," Natasha groaned., "Blya petukh blok.," then she gently pecked your lips a few times, a bit reluctant to stop honestly, but she knows that the more the two of you bond, the easier her life will surely become., "We're coming!"

(Fucking cock block)

—

Natasha nursed her beer at the bar while you and Yelena danced around the joint like madwoman after your vodka shot competition left the both of you absolutely hammered., "Privet, krasavitsa.," the redheads smile fell into an immediate grimace at the gruff voice., "Ne interesno.," she coldly remarked, her eyes never even sparing the man a glance., "Davay detka.," the moment his hand settled over her arm it was being spun behind his back.

Natasha's eyes widened when she saw you'd shoved the man into the counter, "No means no bucko!," you slurred, Yelena snorted at your words, but her amusement died when her sister glared at her., "Y/N, let him go, let's not make a scene.," she tried to pull you off the man who was currently yelping but it was to no avail., "Skazhi, chto ty sozhaleyesh'.," and after the man's arm was twisted until a crack was heard he sincerely apologized to your wife.

(Hello beautiful) (Not interested) (Come on baby) (Say you're sorry)

"Detka, when did you learn Russian?," your shocked lover asks you as you fall into her., "I'm doing Duolingo, want our babies to be able to speak both languages, it's only fair I learned too.," you mumbled over a long yawn, Natasha's hand scratching at your scalp not helping to combat your exhaustion., "Cute.," Natasha was too enamored by you to notice the man rearing back to sock you, but Yelena saw it as the golden opportunity to be violent, and in turn finally give you her stamp of approval after seeing you drunkenly defend her sister.

"That is how it is done.," Yelena beams at you, Natasha's mouth is at a loss for words as she observes the broken glass, and the unconscious man who's body crumpled to the floor., "Etogo ne mozhet byt'.," Natasha groaned just as her hand gripped Yelena by the nape of her neck, then she threw your giggling form over her shoulder, and beat feet before the Russian law enforcement got involved—seeing as how her and Yelena are wanted fugitives around here.

(This can't be happening)

—

"What?," Natasha grumbled while staring at her sister through the crack in the door. Yelena smiled anyway, lifting up a green smoothie of sorts., "For the sick one.," Natasha hesitated to take the glass, but she is an expert at reading her sister, so she sees no hidden agendas are at play here., "She is a lightweight by the way.," the blonde teased, the door was then slammed in her face the next second., "Hey! That's not very nice, I wanted to join the party."

Natasha returned to your side in the bathroom, her hand gently ran over your arm, causing you to lift your head out of the toilet. The pout on your face was cute enough to kiss away, but the reality that you just vomited wasn't forgotten., "Here moya lyubov', drink this smoothie, then we'll take a shower and get right into bed.," you grimaced at the sight of the green slop, but the green eyes staring you down held no room for your rebuts, so you pinched your nose, and miraculously gagged the whole thing down.

"Good girl.," Natasha praised, enjoying the tired smile you rewarded her with., "Come now my fiercest protector.," she lovingly teased, you accepted her extended hand, and Natasha pulled you up, and into the warmed shower., "Rest now honey, you know I got you."

—

The loud ringing of a phone woke you up rather suddenly that your body jolted up, the pounding in your head was not exactly a fan., "Sorry moya lyubov', but also come here and talk to the babies.," you scooted into your wife's side, the blanket pulled up high, and as your eyes adjusted you noticed it was only 4:30AM so that meant is was 8:30PM back home in New York., "Goodnight Mama, Goodnight Mommy, I lub you!!!," Jackson shouted, the both of you chuckled when Clint's hand raised to turn his hearing aids off., "Goodnight baby, we love and miss you so very much."

You held tightly to your wife's hand, the shake in her voice enough to tell you just how much she missed your little ones, and you were at the same point, but due to a forecasted blizzard you couldn't leave a day early like you wanted. Laura now had the phone as she was rocking Eli, who's soft whimpers died down as soon as her mommies voices surrounded her. Then Natasha began humming a familiar Russian lullaby, and both kids were out like a light., "Looks like you took another one down.," Laura teased, your soft snores causing the women to share a laugh before ending the call.

Natasha lowered your bodies back down, an uneasiness weighing heavily on her chest, she couldn't exactly place the cause, but she pulled you closer in the hopes of quelling the feeling., "YA tak lyublyu tebya, dorogoy. Moye serdtse b'yetsya tol'ko dlya tebya i nashikh malyshey.," and as if you had this sixth sense you turned in her hold, pulling her even closer to you, and nuzzling your face into her neck. Your actions caused a soft sigh to leave her lips, and brought a relieved smile to her face.

(I love you so much honey. My heart only beats for you, and our littles.)

—

At a much more appropriate time, 10AM, the both of you exited your room, hand in hand en route to fix a pot of coffee for your hangover. Natasha kissed your cheek before offering to make the life saving beverage so you could relax on the couch. Yelena had already been in the living room watching a Russian show., "Good morning to you, the coffee is all gone, and I do not apologize.," she laughed manically when you fell into the couch with a huff., "Maybe wake up earlier next time."

The blonde gulped when you glared at her, Natasha chuckled at the sight, because she knows what it's like to be on the receiving end.  With one kiss to your lips you lost all the fight, and Yelena was a bit shocked to feel grateful., "We're going to also need more firewood.," your wife mentioned while you continued to sulk on the couch., "If this one expects to survive tonights blizzard that is; I'm fine."

"Ha! So funny, how about along with your blizzard I add onto it a cold shoulder free of charge.," you grumbled, lifting your arm from over your eyes to glare at the smirking redhead, you stuck your tongue out at her for emphasis before rolling over to hide from the offensive light., "Natasha, be nice to my new sister over there, captain lightweight was your superhero name right? This was to be expected really."

"I take it back, you can return to hating me, I will only tolerate the teasing if it is towards Nat or Clint.," you groaned into the couch, the response was muffled, but the blonde heard you perfectly., "Barton? Oh, I am so in!"

Natasha smiled fondly at the sight of you two finally getting along, even if it was at her best friend's expense; the old man could handle it.

"Tasha, are you going to get my firewood?," the redhead snorted when she saw you shivering., "I'll head out in a few minutes.," she began to agree to it, but then her brows furrowed at the text on her phone., "Actually, could you two manage? Steve's having difficulty decoding the files, and the blizzard is already underway."

Natasha threw your whining form over her shoulder., "We'll be right back.," she spoke to the amused blonde, then she took you to your shared space to change you into warmer clothes for your trek through the frigid tundra., "Detka, three jackets seems a bit like overkill.," she laughed, but the sight of you all bundled up and pouting made her heart fill with warmth.

She secretly snapped a photo of you, then she placed a kiss to your nose while pulling a furry beanie over your head before guiding you back to the living space., "You two be safe now, don't let the big bad snow take you guys out.," she was quick to grab you before you could angrily waddle away., "I love you detka, hurry back.," you never could stay mad at her, so you leaned forward to plant a sloppy kiss to her cheek in subtle retaliation to the taunts, but then you kissed her deeply, leaving her near breathless., "I love you too Natty, I expect cuddles when I return.," she nodded then pushed you on out.

Yelena had went to follow, but a hand on her bicep stopped her., "Zabotit'sya o ney.," the fear of losing you was evident to the blonde., "Eto prosto sneg.," the quip was playful, but Natasha saw in her eyes that she'd take your safety seriously now that she'd let her initial reservations go; you're her family now. The knowledge settled the redhead's nervous heart, but as you two walked away she felt that uneasiness from this morning seeping back into her chest, and if not for her phone ringing she was about to follow the both of you.

(Take care of her) (It's just snow.)

—

Yelena found your complaining amusing for all of like ten seconds., "Here—it'll take the edge off, and warm you up since you're shivering.," the flask got a genuine smile out of you, of course she has a flask full of vodka in her vests pockets. After a long sip, and the consequent shiver you handed it back to her., "Seriously though, three jackets—what's the point?"

"It's freezing Lena.," you groaned, speeding up in your state of annoyance you missed the way her lips quirked at the nickname you gave her., "Cold is simply a state of mind Y/N Y/L/N.," you turned to her with a scowl., "Romanoff."

Three loud thuds sounded off behind you, and in real time you watched Yelena's face fall, and her wrists raise., “Yelena, what the hell?,” but before you could get your answers you were harshly thrown into a tree., "Y/N, stay down.," the blonde grunted, you were a bit disoriented but you soon noticed the three burly men all surrounding the widow., "Like hell I will.," you replied, jumping to your feet you entered the fight, successful in impairing one of the men, but now as you dangled over a cliff you were thinking you should’ve listened to Yelena.

Tears clouded your vision every time your body lowered, the grappling hook Yelena managed to attach you to at the last second while being thrown about wasn’t having much luck with the inclement weather you were facing. It was funny really, you meant it when you said death had never scared you, but now, after seeing all this life had to offer you you’re truly terrified. Natasha wasn’t exactly equipped to raise the kids on her own, and more importantly you weren’t ready to cause a heartbreak like this.

For some reason after you were thrown off the side of the cliff the men had retreated, as if the odds weren’t in the favor being three to one over two, which wasn’t logical with Yelena’s shoulder being dislocated, and her focus being split to you. Nothing here made any sense to you, but facing imminent death you hadn’t really had much time to ponder their motives.

“Y/N, hold on okay, Natasha will be here soon, hold my hand…,” you looked up, wincing at the way even the slightest of movements loosened the hooks grip., “Yelena, listen to me—we don’t have long before this hook gives way, and if I were to grab your hand we’d both go down.,” the blonde knew you spoke the truth, but in the moment all rationality went out the window., “Grab my hand damnit, you can’t die!,” she shrieked., “We just became sisters, and you have a family to get home to!”

“Tell Natasha that Jackson only likes ketchup with his fries, try it with anything else and it’s automatically the ‘icky’ sauce.,” you softly said while tears continued to fall down your cheek., “Eli’s favorite stuffy—Mr. Frog, she can’t sleep without him, let her know that I have a box full of replacements for that damn thing in the hallway closet for emergencies.”

The hook shifted again, and you screeched as your body shifted down further at a rapid pace., “Tell her I wasn’t scared; that I was brave.,” you breathed heavily in anticipation., “Even if I wasn’t, she doesn’t need to think I died scared, and remind her I wasn’t alone.”

“No! You’ll tell her, I know she’s coming!,” you smiled up at the blonde one last time, she had the hook under her hand in a vice grip, and if you were to shift again she’d be thrown down with you, and that was the last thing you want., “It’ll be okay Lena, you will all be alright.”

“Please, don’t go Y/N… I-I’m sorry, oh God, this is all my fucking fault.,” her guilty sobs caused your heart to ache, and so you spent your final moments trying to offer her support., “You tried to save me Lena, at one point you wanted me gone, but now look at you. Thanks for becoming my sister, it was truly an honor that I didn’t take lightly. Tell Natasha that I love her please, and take your hand off the hook—there’s no need for both of us to die…”

Yelena violently shook her head, but when she finally looked into your eyes she saw the pure desperation they held. No matter how much she willed it to not be the case, you were right. So the blonde let go, she began to hum the tune of American Pie, you chuckled sadly as you recognized it from the other night, and the irony of the unspoken lyrics weren’t lost on you as you free fell down the mountain side, the image of your happy family in your mind, and the sound of your wife’s voice the last thing you heard before you were met with silence.

Natasha stood there in a state of shock, had the snowmobile been able to surpass the speed of 40mph she would’ve been here in time… When she finally peered over the mountain side it was nothing but a thick mist, there was no proof you’d even fallen besides Yelena’s sobs, so the redhead refused to believe it. There’s no way you’re dead, you were just in her arms like an hour ago; this had to be a joke. Your wife picked her sister’s beaten down body up off the snow, ignoring her incessant sobbing as she placed her on the snowmobile, there was no need to engage her, you were perfectly fine.

When they reached the bottom of the mountain Natasha was flying off the dreadful machinery., “Y/N! This isn’t funny! Show yourself now, and I promise I won’t be mad! Christmas is right around the corner—I swear I’ll return all of your gifts!,” Yelena whimpered at the sounds of her sisters reckless optimism. The fresh trail of blood was clear as day, but she knew Natasha was willfully ignoring it, and that it was up to her to make her face the debilitating truth.

Limping off the bike, with her injured arm pulled tightly against her chest she approached her sister, using her good arm she grabbed her., “Don’t fucking touch me! Where is she?”

“Ona ushla.”

(She’s gone)

“No…,” Natasha shrugged her sister off, then frantically began to search for you, eyes of green forever avoiding the ground, because if the red in her peripheral meant anything, she didn’t want to know., “Ona ne mozhet uyti..”

(She can’t be gone)

Yelena couldn’t watch her sister meltdown any longer, so even in her state she wrestled with the redhead until she was able to force her head to look down., “No…,” her denial was but a whisper, but once her mind caught up to the truth she fell to her knees, a blood curdling scream leaving her throat, only to be followed by heart wrenching sobs that made Yelena’s heart shatter further along with her sisters.

Yelena followed the splattering of your blood, expecting to find you, and not wanting your wife to be the first to, but the splattering was never ending, and the further she limped, the more her heart skipped within her chest, and her speed picked up until everything stopped. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, a piece of your jacket sat atop a branch, your bracelet you used to alert Natasha lay broken in the snow, and a few paces ahead of her lay a stain of oil, and corresponding wheel imprints., “Oh God.”

“Natasha! My dolzhny idti! Ona u nikh!.,” she shook her shoulder, but it was of no use, the redhead wasn’t in much of a responsive state. So just like she’d done for her minutes prior she got her onto the snowmobile and drove as fast as she could while unfairly cursing you., “This wasn't cool Y/N... So not cool at all.”

(We have to go! They have her!)

————————————————————

9,624 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn😳

[mistyhollowcottage]

what kind of maniac hands an infant a screen? don’t they know anything about child development?! the american pediatric society recommends no screens under the age of THREE

Oh don’t even get me started. Every single person I spend time with (10+ families) have children under the age of three and every single one of them tells me all about Bluey and miss Rachel and coco melon and how great they are for distracting your kids to get stuff done or drive places. I’m coming to learn that people really aren’t okay with hearing babies cry, but babies do cry! They cry a lot! It’s their only way of communicating. Babies will fuss when you put them in the car seat and they might have a bad day and need you to carry them or wear them around while you do stuff. Babies need their parents. Putting a screen in front of your child to distract them is not parenting it’s pacifying and it will bite you in the ass when they’re inevitably diagnosed with adhd and god knows what else because you never taught them to self regulate. And I don’t want anyone coming at me saying “screens can be educational!!” You know what else is educational? Spending time with mom and dad, listening to people talk, READING, singing, going out into the world. Putting a screen in front of your baby is lazy at best and neglectful at worst and neither raises well adjusted adults.

[hannahssimblr]

It’s been a long time since we were three - Jen, Michelle and I, and nobody else. Really it was two first, them, from the first day of junior infants, when children were seated alphabetically. Smythe sat with Tengu, that was the natural order of things, and for them, that was that. 

Plenty of people stay friends with that first kid from that first day, it’s just how it works out. You end up spending eight years or more joined at the hip with that snot nosed kid who borrowed your pencil and chewed off the eraser on the end, or snipped chunks out of your hair with safety scissors. But maybe, even to small children, a special, unbreakable bond is born from the experience of witnessing one another cry softly into your copy books as your parents reverse out of the car park and abandon you in a new, strange place with twenty-nine five year old strangers. 

It worked out well for them, though, Michelle, who was bullied for looking foreign, and Jen, the tiny, confident child who had mastered the art of the creative insult by the time she could speak. Boldly, she stood up to anyone who said a word to her new friend, and no, Tengu isn’t hard to pronounce, you just can’t read. And, by the way, you have chocolate smeared around your mouth. 

I crashed their party in the autumn of 2002, uncomfortable in my first ever uniform, and made to sit down at the back of the room like an inconvenience with maths worksheets while everyone else participated in their Irish lesson. I didn’t even know that Irish was a language before then and thanked my lucky stars that ten years old was considered too late to learn and rendered me exempt, because the thought alone of attempting to make those foreign, hacking sounds at the back of my throat was enough to make me shudder. 

It was Jen, to my left, who nudged me, “are you dyslexic?”

“No, I'm American.”

“What are you doing here then?” 

“I moved.”

“Why?”

I was grateful when the teacher told us to pipe down, because I wasn’t really sure how I was going to answer anyway, but it was only a minute before a piece of folded paper landed on my desk. 

A note.

Did you ever go to Disneyland? Yes No

I circled yes and tossed it back at her. Of course I’ve been to Disneyland, like, five times. My great aunt took me on every single birthday, and I went on all of the rides I was tall enough for. 

The notes didn’t stop, one after another, question after question, and I shrunk a little under her curious gaze at the desk next to me, not really ready to be observed with such intensity, but it didn’t matter what I wanted. Jen wanted answers. 

“Do you have Coronation Street in America?” She said, trailing me into the yard as I tried to find a secluded spot to eat my sandwich.

“Hm? Where’s that?”

She giggled, “What about Quality Street?”

“Are they, like, kinda the same thing?”

“Do you know any WWF wrestlers?”

“I know them on the TV, I guess.”

“But not in real life? Have you met any celebrities?”

“Um, I saw the guy who played Screech on Saved by the Bell one time.”

“I dunno who that is. Anyone else?”

She could be pretty annoying, but disarming and easy to warm to nonetheless, but it was never Jen that was the problem.

It was her best friend Michelle. 

Michelle Tengu didn’t really talk. Kids in the class would try their best to make her say something, they’d ask her if she was mute, which she wasn’t, she was too shy to speak sometimes, and when she did her voice was whisper quiet, which didn’t help.

“What?” Our classmates would bellow, “I can’t hear you, you have to speak up!” and underneath the table her hands would ball into fists and her face would burn furious red. 

Usually kids like Michelle were too much effort for me, I dare say boring, even, I tended to gravitate towards loud, borderline obnoxious types but I quickly learned that wherever my new friend Jen went, Michelle went too, so her presence, I would have to learn to accept.

Once I got over my impatience with Michelle’s quiet nature we tended to get along pretty well, she was the perfect antidote for Jen and I, who would often launch into spirited arguments about stupid things that hardly mattered, but she was so good at being diplomatic, logical, making sense of things that seemed so complicated to us but simple to her. Michelle was very good at being right. All of the time. It was one of the interesting things about her. 

There were other interesting things, of course, which I began to discover during the long, humid summer of 2004. Like the way her hair, long, sleek and black, reflected the sunshine, and her pouty mouth and chestnut brown eyes. Girls weren’t gross to me in that way anymore, especially Michelle.  

It was her house where we hung out, mostly, because my house had a fussy toddler in it and Jen’s parents were weird and always made us participate in chores, but Michelle’s house wasn’t perfect either. Her parents were always hovering within earshot of the living room as we three friends hung out, and they made sure that Michelle’s bedroom was always off limits to me. Jen could go up there all she liked, to fetch a CD or a teen magazine for us to fill out the stupid quizzes, but not me. I had to park myself on that pale blue couch and listen to my friends giggling through the ceiling while Rahim grilled me about my education.

“I don’t get why they’re like that,” Jen would say in consolation when we walked home together after another summer afternoon in the Tengu’s semi detached. “They’re the same with the sleepovers, even though they’d be so much more fun if you were there too. I honestly just don’t get it."

But I did. 

And as time went on the girls would understand too, because by twelve almost everything felt different to the way it felt at ten. There wasn’t only Michelle and her pretty glossy hair anymore, there was Jessie and Alice and Amy, and eventually, my very first girlfriend Holly whose friends used to shove digital cameras into our faces when we tried to kiss at the teenage discos, and who would start dramatic, weekly arguments with me over text message if I dared to so much as ask the girl next to me to borrow a pencil sharpener. 

Things became extra complicated when somebody left a handmade card and a packet of gel pens on my desk for my birthday, which I assumed were from Holly, and thanked her, much to her chagrin, because it hasn’t actually been her, no, she’d bought me tickets to see Dodgeball at the cinema.

It was Michelle. 

Holly insisted that I give them back to her, so I did, with all the sensitivity and tact a newly turned thirteen year old is capable of, which is almost none, and left Michelle standing forlornly in the yard holding the card I had barely read dangling limply from her fingers.

It was her, eventually, who launched a campaign against me after many weeks of being an obliging boyfriend, claiming that I was spending far too much time with Holly and her friends and had forgotten all about those who had welcomed me with their friendship when I was displaced and alone at the beginning, but I didn’t think of it like that. I still wanted to be friends with her and Jen, they were my main friends, but I needed to make time for my new friends too. There was only so much of me to go around, surely, if she were so reasonable, she would understand.

“You don’t care about us at all anymore,” she hissed at me in the school yard with tears in her eyes, “It’s all about Holly and her gang now. Well, she can have you, you don’t have time for anybody else these days.”

She ignored all my attempts to make it up to her, and we only drifted further apart after that, losing ourselves to the new landscape, the new rules of secondary school, finding different interests, different people, different music, ways to dress and express ourselves to spend our time until eventually the only thing we had in common was Jenny Smythe, the girl who had stood in place while we swirled around her, a rock in a churning ocean of teenage angst. If it wasn’t for her, I know I would hardly see Michelle at all. I’d never have to think about her. 

But I do, and now instead of her giggling I hear her sobs through the ceiling of the living room.

Beginning // Prev // Next

Big thank you to @nexility-sims for helping me make sense of this montage scene! It was driving my crazy for weeks <3 <3 <3

[chenfordspiral]

ch. 39 - going home

Lucy and Tim take baby Evie home and introduce her to Kojo. Also featuring: Tamara.

February 6, 2027

They decide to keep Evie in the room with them overnight since both her and Lucy are doing well. Caring for a newborn while sleep deprived is hard, but it’s what they’re going to have to get used to now. At least here in the hospital, they still have the added help of the nurses who keep checking in with them and help when needed throughout the night.

In the morning, after everyone’s had breakfast, Lucy’s doctor stops by to check on her once more to make sure she’s still doing well. Her midwife also stops by shortly after while Dr. Moreno is still in the room, and they talk a bit about postpartum care and checkup appointments for when Lucy is home. Soon after, the pediatrician on shift does a few more tests on Evie, declaring her as healthy as can be and ready to go home, just like Lucy. There’s no rush, since they have to wait for the discharge papers anyway, so they can take their time in getting everything packed up.

While the baby nurses, Tim starts getting some of their things into the car. There’s more flowers than he can count in the room now from all their visitors the day before, as well as an insanely large goodies basket from all their colleagues. They definitely went a little overboard with that one, but he has a feeling that it’s all Angela Lopez’ doing so he really shouldn’t have expected anything else. And Lucy deserves nothing but the best so he won’t be complaining.

Around noon, they’re officially discharged. They’re all changed into fresh clothes, and before they know it, they’re strapping Evie into the car seat to take her home. She fusses and whines at the unusual, new surroundings, but calms once she’s comfortably settled in with a blanket over her to keep her warm.

“She looks even smaller in that,” Lucy whispers as she looks down at the infant.

“She does,” Tim nods, curling an arm around Lucy’s waist to pull her closer.

keep reading on AO3.

[reigningqueenofwords]

A Daughter

A/N: I've been reading John Winchester's Journal, and decided to put in some of the things I've read about into this.

Part 2 of Dad’s Back

It had been three days since John showed back up with you in tow. Just three days, and the three Winchester men had completely melted for you. 

The day after he’d showed up, they were on the move to the next motel. Sam rode in the back with you, and Dean followed behind in the Impala. An hour into the drive, you were over it already. You pushed against the straps of your car seat, fussing and whining. Sam tried to distract you, but you wanted none of it. “Maybe we can pull into a town and find a playground? Let her wear herself out?” Sam suggested, glancing at his father. 

John sighed and nodded. Sam had been less fussy on long car rides, but he had to remember that he had been traveling since he was an infant. It was just what he was used to. You, however, had lived in the same place your whole (short) life. 

Dean furrowed his brow as John pulled onto an exit. Normally John stopped as little as possible. Finally, they pulled into the parking lot of a public playground. “What gives?” He asked as he got out of the car. He saw Sam unbuckling a fussy toddler. 

John shrugged. “She’s not having it. Sam suggested we stop and let her play. Wear herself down so she’ll nap on the drive. How about you run and get us some lunch? Get her some nuggets and a small fry.” He told his son, glancing to where Sam was walking you to the slide. “I just assumed we could travel like usual, without thinking the only reason it was easy to travel with Sam at that age was because he was just used to it. She’s not.” 

“I hate to say it, but I’m glad things happened now, and not in a few years. She won’t have the memory of losing her mom and starting to travel.” Dean noted. “You gonna do with her like you did with us? Go balls to the wall for her birthday?” He chuckled. “Remember when I was 8, and you brought us to Chuck E. Cheese? We ate pizza, played video games, and it was like we were just any other family?” He fondly remembered that day. 

“Yeah, I remember that.” He smiled. “Sam fell asleep while eating his pizza that night.” He shook his head. “Did you know your mom always talked about having a daughter one day?” He asked. 

Dean shook his head. “No, you never mentioned.” Growing up Dean only asked about Mary on the anniversary of her death. It was too painful for both of them. 

John had a soft and sad look on his face. “Yeah, she would talk about it, sure that our next one would be a girl. I would have been over the moon.” He admitted. “The idea that I would ever have a daughter died with your mother.” He sighed, shaking his head. “And then I was told about that little girl. I was floored. Sammy had just about to turn 13, and you were 17.” 

“Bet that was one hell of a shock.” He watched his baby brother play with you, and could tell Sam needed this. “I think this will be good for Sammy.” He glanced at his father, making John raise his eyebrow. “We tried to give Sammy the best childhood, but shit happens.” 

“I tried to do my best for you, too. Not just Sammy.” He didn’t ever want Dean to think differently. 

“I know you did.” He assured him. “But me and Sammy? We’re entirely different. I was asking to shoot guns. He just wanted books.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Who do you think will be the first to walk her to the park closest to where we’re staying? Or will take her to the library and teach her to read?” He pointed out. 

“Daddy!” You called out, clearly wanting him to join you and Sammy. 

John chuckled. “Guess that’s my cue. And she’ll look up to both of you.” He patted Dean’s shoulder. “Go get lunch and meet us back here.” 

Dean watched as John made his way to you. Maybe you’d be good for all three of them. 

You’d just turned 4, and as Dean figured, John did his best to make it an excellent day. He got you a strawberry cake with the Disney princesses on it, Sam decorated the motel room, and Dean did all the present wrapping. They couldn’t get you a lot of presents, but you seemed to love all of them. Your favorite was a stuffed animal that John bought you. You fell asleep cuddling it that night. 

The three talked quietly, not wanting to wake you. “So, I had an idea.” Sam started. “Maybe this summer we can find a day camp for he-” 

“No.” John instantly shot that down, confusing Sam. “When Dean was 10, I got you boys into a summer camp. You were 6, so you didn’t hear about what happened at that summer camp. On day 5, it turned into a case. Dean could have been killed, and a counselor was killed a week after Dean’s brush with death. Never put you boys in camp again.” 

Sam looked surprised, never having heard of that before. “Oh, wow.” He shook his head, glancing to where you were sleeping. “Yeah, we don’t want that.” He loved you, a lot. The thought of you being in danger bothered him. Looking back at his dad, he shrugged. “Or maybe we can find something else to do with her.” You had a lot of energy, so when he wasn’t in school he was trying to find something to do with you. 

John was proud of how his boys accepted you, and did everything they could for you. “She loves you, and would be happy doing damn near anything with you.” He chuckled.

Tagging: @ilovetaquitosmmmm

[fetishfairytales2]

Mall Madness (Brandi & Heather)

Mall Madness, Pt 1: Fitting Room Fashion Show Late one evening…

"But Mommy..." he whined, almost crying right there at the back door. I couldn't help but smirk as I saw Brandi's face turn red with embarrassment. He knew better than to argue with me, but he just couldn't help himself. It was like his mouth had a mind of its own. "What if the neighbors see me out here in my diapers?"

But I wasn't going to let him get away with it this time. "Aww, is poor Brandi embarrassed about being seen by the cute girl next door in his pink Pampers?" No, I had the perfect idea for a punishment that would put him in his place. "Okay sissy, come inside." that night, I called up my friend Ashleigh. She loved getting in on humiliating Brandi as much as I did.

"Mall trip?" Ashleigh cackled, passing me my Starbucks order when I swung open the front door early the next morning. We snuck into Brandi's sissy nursery together, being careful not to wake the little sweetie. I counted down from 3 and flipped on the lights while Ashleigh pulled back his little baby blanket and tickled him awake. "Wake up, Baby Brandi!" She taunted, "We're going to have, like, the best time ever today!" Brandi groaned and tried to hide his face, but I wasn't having it. I grabbed his puny wrists and yanked them away. 

And then we began the process of dressing him. Ashleigh picked out the perfect outfit for him - a pink frilly dress, pink ribbons for sissy pigtails, and a shirt that said "Daddy's Little Girl". I couldn't help but laugh as we put it on him, seeing the look of humiliation and shame on his face. "Aww, does sissy Brandi hate being dressed like a little girl?" I teased, snapping a few pictures and popping his penis pacifier in to stop the ensuing temper tantrum. “Shh,” I hushed him, “Mommy really doesn’t care. Like at all sweetie.”

(Princess Heather has gotten bored and is forcing me to take over telling the story until we get to the “good part”. She says the readers will like hearing me talk about how humiliated I was… 😞)

They dragged me out the door and practically threw me into the backseat of the car, strapping me into a pink car seat that had annoying little sissy toys attached to it. They teased and taunted me the whole car ride. "Isn't Sissy Baby Brandi excited for her trip to the mall with the big girls? I bet Brandi is so excited to show off her cute outfit!" I wanted to shrink into my seat and disappear. 

When we finally arrived at the mall, they took me out of the car and put me into a sissy stroller, complete with frilly pink cushions and a canopy. Ashleigh pushed me as Heather walked beside us, holding a bright pink diaper bag that had "sissy baby" written on it in big, bold letters. Passersby couldn't help but stare and giggle at the sight of a grown man dressed as a sissy baby being pushed around like an infant. 

Heather seemed to love the attention, smiling and waving at anyone who caught her eye. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me right there. But I knew better than to disobey my Princess. If I didn’t want the punishment to be much worse than it already was, I had to do whatever she said.

I was immediately met with stares and giggles from everyone who saw. Heather and Ashleigh made sure to point out every person who was looking at me, just to make it worse. “Oooh…Victoria’s Secrete!” I heard Heather giggle. They made me sit in the middle of the store in my stroller while they browsed through lingerie, drawing everyone’s attention by asking me what looked sexiest. Heather would hold up two bras ask; “which one would make me look hotter, Brandi? This one or the black one?” 

“I-I don't know…” I would try to stammer behind my gag. Ashleigh cut me off and spun my stroller around to face her; “Oh, come on Brandi. You're supposed to know what a woman wants! But then again, you're not really a man, are you?” She held up two pairs of black lace panties; “g-string or thong sissy? Which is going to make my booty pop more?” 

I was so overwhelmed with all the stares down the people in the store that I started crying. Heather wiped my tears and patted me on the head; “Aww, poor little sissy baby. You're just here to carry our bags and look pretty, aren’t you?” I nodded slowly, not sure what else to do. “Good girl. Now let's go try on some lingerie. You can be our little fashion critic.”

As we approached the changing rooms, one girls working there approached us. She was openly laughing at me and my outfit! Mommy Heather, being the sadistic Princess she is, didn't try to hide it. She pushed the canopy of the stroller back, exposing me to the whole store. "Oh my goodness, he...she, maybe?" The girl giggled. "She is so cute!" Heather just chuckled and responded, "Thank you! My sissy boyfriend is just so embarrassed by how pretty she is, I had to take her out and show her off!” The clueless employee looked shocked…at first. “No! She’s such a cutie! I’m Kylie by the way! How can I help?”

Ugh. Why was she so eager? She was like 19…this should be weird to her! Her coworkers look weirded out, why isn’t she? “I’m Heather, this is Ashleigh, and this is Brandi!” Heather beamed. Kylie leaned in and stuck her tongue out at me making faces like I was an actual baby! “How old is she?” She asked, cooing at me. “33…months,” Ashleigh winked, “she’s big for her age.” Heather looked down at me with a stern look; “thank the nice woman for telling you how cute you look sissy!” 

Another employee came over to see what was going on and both women’s eyes almost popped out of their heads when Heather pulled the pacifier gag from my lips. “Th-thank you…” I stammered. How could I be this stupid? I should have just gone outside in my diaper. Now I don’t just have to worry about the neighbors. “Could we try some things on?” Heather asked sweetly.

(“Okay sweetie, let Mommy Heather handle this. You're just being a silly little sissy, making a big fuss over nothing. Those girls were being nice to you!” 😇)

The quieter of the two sales girls looked taken aback as I firmly pushed the three-inch "special binky" back into Brandi's mouth. She quickly turned and left without a word. However, Kylie stood there, quite unbothered. "Are you trying something on or...?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued. "For us, silly!" I chuckled. "Brandi is far too young to wear grown-up underwear!" Ashleigh joined in with a giggle, adding, "But really, they're mainly for our boyfriends!"

"Did you not just say that he was..." Kylie struggled to find a tactful way to ask, gesturing towards Brandi. "Honey, he's a grown man dressed in diapers and tied in a stroller at a mall. Do you honestly think I would ever let him touch me?" I laughed. "No, I'm only with him for his money. For anything else, there are plenty of actual men out there, right? Do you mind if we bring him in with us?" 

Kylie raised her eyebrows quizzically, but eventually shrugged and opened the door to the dressing room. "Just between us girls," I whispered to Kylie, "I'll be in the food court later if you want to know more..."

"Well," Ashleigh smirked as I faced the stroller towards us and ensured the door was securely locked. "Finally, some alone time," she playfully removed her top, giving my poor trapped sissy an amazing view of her tits in her bra. "Now it's your turn," she smiled, slowly pulling my shirt over my head. 

Brandi could not hide his dread, knowing he was about to witness a show that would only worsen his frustration in that pretty pink chastity cage. "Don't even think about turning away," I whispered seductively in his ear. With a devious grin, Ashleigh held up a sheer black lace bra and matching thong. "Let's see how they look on me, shall we?"

I eagerly dropped to my knees in front of her and flashed Brandi a sexy grin. I unbuttoned Ashleigh’s jeans and then expertly positioned her so that her back was to Brandi. Gently, I guided her out of her pants, ensuring her pert, peachy ass was perfectly in view for Brandi to see from a distance. "And now for these," I laughed, slowly removing her thong, teasingly peeling it off her for maximum effect and giving her a little spank.

"How kind of you," Ashleigh felt me place the string of skimpy thong perfectly on her ass. "I wouldn't want any prying eyes catching a glimpse," I laughed with another spank to her ass. I stood up and helped her put on the bra, her back still to Brandi. She turned around slowly, pressing her body against the sissy's, who couldn't stop staring at her ample cleavage. "So, what's your verdict, sissy? Will my boyfriend like this?" she purred.

Pathetic little Brandi was struggling and Ashleigh just couldn't help but playfully twirl her hair and snuggle up against him. "Oh sweetie, are you having trouble expressing yourself?" I taunted. "Maybe if you just told Princess Ashleigh how stunning she is, she wouldn't have to keep trying to convince you..."

“Brandi! You’re hurting my feelings!” Ashleigh choked back a fake sob and turned to the poor cuck by shaking her booty in front of him. "Is it the thong?" She playfully asked, looking over her shoulders and batting her eyelashes. "Is it not the right size? Or maybe my butt is too big for it?"

Ashleigh made sure to get up close and personal with the loser, swaying her hips and thrusting her perfect ass towards him. She would lean over the sissy to make sure her tits were right in his face, asking "do you like what you see, loser?" with a bitchy little laugh. As she continued to dance, she would run her fingers through her hair, toss it around, and grind on the sissy, making sure he was painfully aware of how close he was to the perfect body he could never have. 

“You can look," she giggled at him, "but just like every other woman in the world, you can never touch.” While Ashleigh had Brandi's full attention, I sneaked up behind him and wrapped my arm around his waist, reaching for his little diaper. "Oopsie," I teased as Ashleigh finished up her dance. "It seems someone's leaking stickies in their sissy diapees! Did you enjoy Ms. Ashleigh's cute undies more than you let on, Sissy Brandi?"

I slowly started tracing my nails around the sissy's straining, plastic-covered prison. “Eyes on me Sissy Slut!” I growled, kneading my other hand firmly into his sissy balls to ensure I had his full, undivided attention now. "Ms. Ashleigh is going to SLOWLY strip off that sexy lingerie and try on another set, and then I'll try one on, and another..." I was tickling the head of his trapped clitty through the bars now.

"Oh,” I smiled up at him, “and another, until you’re a quivering, crying mess. We're going to help you though sissy, don't worry," I reassured him with a firm flick to his tiny sissy marbles. "We're going to massage these," and I yanked harder, "the whole time. After all of our outfits, we'll decide which ones made you leak the most. Those, you lucky little sissy slave, are the ones you'll be buying for us! Along with whatever else we want..."

Mall Madness, Pt 2: Fun in the Food Court coming soon…

[butterflydemons]

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Miya agrees with Kaya and decides to invite Chan to her house so he can officially meet his daughter.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bangchan x biracial!oc ( Miya )

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5,536

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗇, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗇 & 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝗎𝗉𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝖳𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍. 𝖧𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @michelle4eve @lovesunshinefelix @resi4skz @kaciidubs @linosazuna @dandelions-143

⇢ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ——— ɴᴇxᴛ

Chapter III🧸: Everything To Me

『 July 21, 2022 』

MIYA SAT UP all night thinking about her conversation with Kaya the previous day. Although she knew her best friend was right, she was still skeptical about having Chan in Noémi’s life. She knew what came with being involved with a K-pop idol. There were the fans, paparazzi, and those people who secretly took pictures of them. Along with came stalkers and dangerous individuals, and now that she has a child, she would NEVER do anything to put her in harm's way.

In her mind, Miya knew that Chan had every right to be in Noémi’s life no matter what. She is part of him as she is part of her. His blood ran through her. Miya knew that if news got out that she had a child with a known idol, their fandom would be in an uproar. Hell, World War III might even start.

The sound of Noémi’s cries made Miya snap out of her thoughts. She threw the blankets off her, slipped on her house shoes, and headed to the infant’s room. Noémi stood up wide awake with tears rolling down her face.

“Oh, Mimi, why are you crying?” Miya cooed, picking up her daughter only to gag at the smell of the cause of her daughter's tears. “Oh my god, that’s why.”

Miya took the baby to her main bathroom and ran Noémi a bath. She went to the bedroom and cleaned her up before returning to the washroom. Before Miya washed up Noémi, she put her hand in the water to ensure it wasn’t too hot. Noémi played and babbled, making funny noises to her mother as she splashed around.

As Miya began styling her daughter's hair, her ringtone echoed off the walls. She glanced at the screen to see Kaya calling before setting the soft bristle brush on the bed and tapping the green answer button.

Hello?

Bestie🤍🥤- Hello, my love, what are you doing?

I just got Noémi dressed for the day. What’s up?

Bestie🤍🥤- I was wondering if you wanted to meet Karsyn and me at a restaurant for brunch.

Yeah, I’ll meet you there. Just send me the address.

Bestie🤍🥤 - You got it. Love you.

Love you too.

Setting her phone to the side, Miya finished doing Noémi’s hair before placing her in her playpen with a pacifier. She got up and took a brisk shower before dressing in light blue jeans, a pink strapless top, and white Air Forces. Miya did her tresses in a slick half-up, half-down style before adding a little makeup. When ready, Miya grabbed her belongings and Noémi before heading to her white Mercedes Benz G-Wagon. After strapping her daughter in her car seat, Miya entered the driver's seat and drove away from her house.

As Miya drove, she put the address Kaya had sent her into the GPS and followed the directions. Arriving at the small cafe, Miya parked, exited her vehicle and went to the backseat to grab her daughter. As she walked inside, she immediately spotted Kaya and Karsyn. She smiled, placing Noémi in the high chair, and sat down.

“Hello, my gorgeous girl.” Karsyn grinned at Noémi, holding her arms out. The baby reached out to Karsyn and held onto her neck.

Karsyn placed repeated kisses on her cheek, making her giggle, before sitting her in the high chair.

“Did you guys order yet?” Miya asked, opening her menu and scanning the different dishes it had.

“No, we got here not too long ago,” Kaya replied, sipping on the ice water.

A few minutes went by before the three friends started looking over the menu. Everything looked and sounded terrific, but Miya couldn’t decide on what to get to eat. Soon, a waitress approached their table with a notepad already in her hand to take their orders. She smiled at the young women, and they returned the same gesture.

“Welcome to Savor Street. What can I get you?” The young woman asked Miya and her friends.

“I’ll have the Street Toast Sandwich and an iced chai latte, please.” Miya politely ordered, smiling at her. “Also, can you add a small strawberry oatmeal for the little one?”

“I want the gyeran bap with an iced americano,” Kaya replied, closing her menu.

Once Karsyn placed her order, the waitress left the friends to talk again.

“Has Chan contacted you since yesterday?” Karsyn asked, looking at Miya.

“Not yet,” Miya answered, shaking her head. “He’s supposed to call me to talk when he has free time.”

“At least he’s taking the initiative to want to be in her life,” Kaya replied, tapping her nails on the table.

By then, the waitress had arrived with their food and drinks. Miya smiled at her daughter, who had a gummy grin when she went to feed her the strawberry oatmeal. When the toddler had enough to eat, Miya sat the spoon down and gave her daughter a bottle that Karsyn fed her. The girls were talking about random subjects when Miya’s phone vibrated with a text. She saw it was from Chan and clicked on the notification, taking her to their conversation.

(850) 961-3198 - Hey, are you busy today?

No, why? What’s up?

(850) 961-3198 - I’d like to know if we can meet at your place to talk.

Okay, at what time?

(850) 961-3198 - How about in an hour and a half? I have a few hours of free time.

Alright, I’ll send you my address.

(850) 961-3198 - Thanks.

“Chan wants to meet at my place to talk, should I?” Miya asked, looking at her friends.

“Do we have to have this discussion again?” Karsyn asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Of course you should. As the father, he deserves to be in her life.” Kaya replied, biting into her fluffy pancakes.

“You’re right, but I’m nervous. Imagine the uproar if and when the K-pop fandom in general finds out.” Miya expressed, pushing her hair behind her shoulders.

“I understand, but you can’t worry about the what-ifs. Like my mom always told me, people will talk about you until the day you die, and there’s nothing you can do about that except to live your life the way you want to.” Kaya explained, and I knew that she was right, like always.

Miya knew Kaya was right in her statement. That was the reason why they were friends. Kaya was always Miya’s go-to person for advice.

“Damn it. I hate it when you’re always right.” Miya huffed amusingly, rolling her eyes with a smile on her face.

“It’s the truth.” Kaya laughed, shrugging her shoulders.

“Okay, fine. I’ll let Chan come over.” Miya sighed, giving in to the temptation.

Miya grabbed her phone, went to the messages from Chan, and sent him her address. Suddenly, she felt a sense of nervousness in her chest. Why was she anxious? I mean, it’s only Noémi’s father, who’s also a K-pop idol with billions of fans, who is ruthless. She had to admit, though, that she was a fan of Stray Kids, not precisely a Stay, but a fan, in her opinion.

From the moment Noémi could see, Miya would watch SKZ Code and listen to their music. At the moment, Noémi’s favorite song was Charmer, and whenever she’d hear her daddy’s voice, she’d dance and smile. It warmed Miya’s heart to see her daughter get excited when seeing Chan on TV. It made her glad that she gave birth to her. And she loves spending every second with her.

The girls continued talking amongst each other before paying their tab and leaving the establishment. They got in the vehicles they arrived in and decided to shop for a little bit before driving to Miya’s house. It's good that Miya kept a basket of non-slide socks in every size by the front door so people can wear them since she has tile flooring. After the girls entered the house, they removed their shoes, walked to the living room area, and sat on the couch. Noémi sat on her playmat, playing with her toys in her world.

“Are you nervous?” Karsyn asked, looking at Miya from her phone.

“Honestly, yes, I am. I don’t know what to say.” She responded, shrugging her shoulders. “I’ve never done this before, but I’m nervous about talking to Chan.”

“That’s understandable because he’s an idol, famous worldwide, and his fan base is savages,” Kaya explained, leaning her head against her hand.

“Oh, I’m not worried about them. You know me, but I’m worried about my child. I know someone will take it too far behind a phone screen and talk about my child.” Miya softly expressed, running her fingers through her hair. “You know how I can get when I feel like someone has crossed a line with me.”

“Girl, I'm the same way. My mouth starts going when I’m at that point, and it’s hard to get me to stop.” Kaya said, nodding in agreement.

“Exactly, and I don’t want that to ruin his image.” Miya sighed, feeling her chest tighten with anxiousness.

Suddenly, the doorbell echoed throughout the house, making the girls look at each other. Miya sighed, rubbing the sides of her head as Karsyn and Kaya went outside while she answered the door. She stood before the door and sighed heavily before grasping the handle and opening it. On the opposite side of the doorway was Chan, who looked scrumptious in her opinion.

Miya smiled at him, showing respect and manners by bowing. “Hi, Chan.”

“It’s good to see you again, Miya.” Chan greeted her, smiling at the one with whom he shared a passionate night.

“Come in and welcome to my home.” Miya grinned, stepping aside to allow the father of her inside.

Chan entered the house, looking around at the design from the ceiling to the floors. He followed the young woman to her living area and sat across from her on the second sofa.

“I love your house.” Chan politely complimented, fiddling with his fingers.

“Thank you.” Miya smiled, blushing a little as Chan grinned.

“How long have you lived here?” Chan asked, leaning his head against the back of the sofa.

“I’ve been here for eight months.” She answered, bringing her knees to her chest.

As Miya went to speak, she heard Noémi’s whines coming from upstairs, followed by Kaya’s voice. “Miya Noémi wants you.”

“Okay, I’m on my way.” She replied, standing to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

Miya walked upstairs, following her best friend’s voice to her bedroom. Kaya had Noémi in her arms as she tried to get out of her grasp, reaching for her mother. The mother held the baby in her arms and carefully walked down the stairs. As she entered the living room, Chan looked up and fell in love. There she was.

His baby girl. There was no denying her because the resemblance was uncanny. Noémi had his eyes and mouth but had her mother's nose. Chan was hesitant initially but held his arms out to his child. She stared at him, taking in his facial features before reaching her arms out to him.

Chan let out a breath that he didn’t even realize he was holding in as he held his child for the first time. Noémi stared into Chan's eyes, studying his face, every tiny freckle and every pore. Suddenly, she smiled, making her father's heart swell as she laid her head on his shoulder.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” Chan laughed, rubbing his daughter's back. “She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, but now that you two are side by side, you guys look like twins.” Miya complimented, smiling at the pair. Seeing them together made her heart also swell, and it made her feel something.

Chan sat on the sofa, sat his daughter on his lap, and started cooing at her, loving the sounds she returned. He ran his finger down her chubby, soft cheek before kissing her forehead. Many emotions ran through Chan, and he honestly wanted to cry.

“Hi, baby girl,” Chan said, smiling funny at the toddler. Noémi looked at him and gave him a wide grin, showing her gums. “You’re so cute. Do you talk to her in Korean, too?”

“Yes, I do, so she knows both languages,” Miya responded, running her hand through her hair. “One thing about Noémi is that she loves your music.” Miya laughed, grabbing her phone.

“Does she?” He questioned, widening his eyes in surprise. “What song does she like?”

“She’s hooked on Charmer.” She smiled, scrolling through her music.

After finding the song, Miya turned up the volume, and immediately, Noémi turned toward her mother. The second the music started playing, the toddler began dancing, wiggling her hips and bouncing up and down. Chan laughed, seeing his daughter wiggle around to his music, and couldn't resist taking his phone out and recording her.

“That is so adorable. Thank you.” Chan praised, staring at Miya with a sense of admiration. She was allowing him to see his daughter, and not many women do that when they get pregnant on a one-night stand. “Now that I’m seeing Noémi, it’s surreal. When I saw the picture, I didn't believe it at first, but I started adding the dates.”“Believe me, I understand. When Noémi was born, I stared at her face for five minutes in disbelief that I have a baby now.” The young woman explained, leaning her head against the back of the couch. “I’m a whole mother, and the fact of who her father is, my world will flip upside down.”

“I was wondering if you knew who I was.” He grinned, watching his child play with her toys.

“I didn’t realize it until the next morning. I was shocked and embarrassed that I would do that.” Miya admitted, covering her face as her cheeks flushed a pink color.

“If it didn’t happen, we wouldn’t have her now, would we?” Chan inquired, smiling at Miya, making her heart flutter.

“No, but I am worried about what would happen if and when this gets to your fans worldwide.” The young woman confessed, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

“Yeah, it will make Stays go into an uproar if that makes sense. They’re going to ask questions and want answers.” Chan responded, understanding her fears. He wasn’t wrong, though. If and when Stays finds out about Noémi, they will want answers on who the mother is and ask numerous questions. “If you’re worried about Stays bombarding you and Cheon-Sa, I can step back some-”

“No, I don't want you to do that because I want you in her life. I fear for her.” Miya avowed, glancing down at her nails. “What if something happens to me or god forbids Noémi if we’re walking down the street?”

“Miya, listen to me. I won’t let anything happen to you, let alone Noémi.” Chan promised, grasping Miya’s hand softly.

“You’re not always going to be there, Chan. Sometimes, you’ll be across the sea touring while I’m here.” Miya truthfully stated, shrugging her shoulders.

“I know, but I’ll do my hardest to be there for you and Noémi.” He assured her, gently rubbing the back of Miya’s hand with his thumb.

“I don’t doubt that you will.” Miya smiled, cocking her head to the side.

The pair continued their conversation as Miya discussed Noémi’s likes and dislikes. Chan was glad he had this time with Miya to learn about her concerns and worries. He enjoyed sharing the moments with Noémi because he already felt a bond with her the second he laid eyes on her little body. After a while, Chan checked his phone and saw the time on the screen.

“I have to go, but I’ll call you tonight,” Chan said, standing to his feet. Miya did the same, picking up Noémi and following him to the front door when he put his shoes on. “Bye, baby girl.”

“Say bye to Appa.” The young woman cooed, kissing her baby girl’s cheek. The toddler smiled at Chan, waving her tiny hand at her father.

Miya waved goodbye to Chan as he got in the car with his bodyguard and drove off. As she closed the front door, Kaya and Karsyn came downstairs and walked to the living room.

“So, how did it go?” Kaya asked, sitting on the sofa.

“It went well. We talked and agreed on some things.” Miya replied, setting Noémi in her play area.

“That’s good. Chan seems like he’s a good guy.” Karsyn nodded, smiling at her friend.

“He is.” Miya grinned as her mind couldn’t help but wonder about the what-ifs and what could happen.

Chan arrived at the dance studio where he was meeting the others. On his way there, his phone blew up with messages from his group members. When he entered the room, the guys groaned and hollered that their leader finally appeared.

“Yah! Where have you been?” Changbin yelled, jumping to his feet.

“I need to talk to you guys,” Chan replied, scratching the back of his neck. The members knew something was off by Chan’s demeanor.

“What’s wrong?” Felix asked as the guys gathered around and sat on the sofa. Seungmin, I.N., and Han sat in front of them on the floor.

“Do you guys remember the restaurant we went to for my birthday that my friend Caleb paid for last year?” Chan questioned, looking at each of his members.

“What about it?” Minho inquired, shrugging his shoulders.

“Do you remember the girl that wore a blue dress? She was Hyun-Jung’s friend.” He responded, leaning his elbows against his knees.

“I remember her. She sat at the opposite end of the table.” Felix replied, realizing who Chan was talking about.

“So, um, after we went to the club that night, we returned to my hotel room, and one thing led to another,” Chan explained, rubbing his hands on his jeans. The group stared at him with wide eyes, not believing he would have a one-night stand with someone he just met. “Today, I went to her house because she became pregnant, and now I have a daughter.”

Silence filled the room as the group processed what their leader just stated. Bang Chan a dad? No, it can’t be. Suddenly, Hyunjin screamed and started running around the spacious room.

“Wait, are you serious?” Felix asked, staring at Chan wide-eyed.

“Very.” Chan nodded, pulling out his phone and showing them the picture he took of Noémi.

“Wa, geu salam kkog dangsin-ilang dalm-assneyo.” Han gasped, looking back and forth between his leader and the picture. ( “Wow, she looks just like you.” )

“There’s no denying that,” Felix responded, laughing at the video of Chan’s child.

“What’s her name?” Seungmin asked, putting his hands on his hips.

“Cheon-Sa or Noémi,” Chan answered, rubbing his chin.

“Geunyeoui eomeonineun ban-eun hangug-in-ingayo?” Hyunjin questioned with a wide grin on his face. He didn’t know whether to be excited that his leader was a father or that he was considered an uncle. ( “Is her mother Korean?” )

“Yes, she is.” The group leader nodded, answering his third oldest member.

“JYP is going to go nuts.” I.N. laughed, staring at his leader.

“Nuts? He’s going to have a heart attack.” Seungmin laughed, slapping his shoulder.

“I’ll handle JYP regarding that, but just keep it between us for now,” Chan responded, looking at each of his members. “She worried about when that time would come, but for now, keep it hush.”

The group nodded, understanding Chan's situation, and decided to keep it hush. They’ll get through dance practice for now, but they would want to meet Miya and Noémi eventually. However, one thing's for sure. The guys were happy for Chan and even excited. Now that his group knows, all he has to do is tell his family.

Outside in the backyard area, Miya, Kaya, and Noémi splashed around in the pool. It was a warm day, so they decided to get in the water. Noémi was a water baby. She loved being in the pool and bathtub. So much that she never wanted to get out.

Karsyn smiled, watching the toddler interact with her mother. She adored the way Noémi giggled and laughed. It made Karsyn want a baby, but was now the right time? Maybe or maybe not, but eventually, she’d want one. Thinking about her future with Caleb made her begin missing him.

It made her glad that she met him on Valentine’s Day in 2017. Karsyn walked inside the house, pulled her phone out of her pocket, and called her longtime boyfriend.

02/14/17🖤👅 - I was beginning to miss your voice.

What are you doing?

02/14/17🖤👅 - Getting ready to do a tattoo.

Can I come over?

02/14/17🖤👅 - You know you don’t have to ask.

I know, but I like to.

02/14/17🖤👅 - Can you bring me gimbap and bibimbap from the restaurant by the apartment?

Okay, only because I’m hungry.

02/14/17🖤👅 - Miya didn’t cook?

No, she had a meeting with Chan.

02/14/17🖤👅 - How did that go?

Miya said it went well. They talked and got on the same page regarding Noémi being a secret from the public.

02/14/17🖤👅 - That’s good. Noémi deserves to have both parents in her life.

Exactly. Well, I’ll be on my way when my Uber arrives.

02/14/17🖤👅 - You know how I feel about you using Uber.

Well, you’re prepping for a tattoo.

02/14/17🖤👅 - I still don’t like it.

Whatever. I’ll see you in a bit.

02/14/17🖤👅 - You’re lucky I have your location.

I love you.

02/14/17🖤👅 - Love you too.

Hanging up the phone, Karsyn ordered her Uber before heading back to Miya's backyard. “My Uber is on its way. I’m going to see Caleb.”

“No, don’t leave,” Miya whined, holding her hand out to her best friend.

“I’ll call you later.” Karsyn laughed as she received a notification from Uber saying her driver was arriving.

“Yeah, right. Knowing Caleb, you’ll probably see him for something else.” Kaya teased, playfully wiggling her eyebrows.

“Whatever, and he’s doing tattoos today.” Karsyn defended, placing her hands on her hips.

“Yeah, but not all night.” Her best friend grinned, making Miya splash her with pool water. “I’m just saying.”

“Anyways, I’ll call you guys later. My ride is here.” Karsyn replied, waving at her two best friends.

“Be safe and careful!” She heard Miya yell from the pool.

“Always, and you have my location!” Karsyn responded, exiting the house to the red sedan.

She climbed in the backseat, smiling politely at the middle-aged female driver. Before arriving at Caleb’s tattoo shop, she stopped by the restaurant in their shared apartment and ordered his food. Karsyn also bought herself something to eat before returning to her Uber and heading toward her boyfriend’s location. Arriving at Caleb’s tattoo shop, she grabbed her food bags and exited the vehicle. The bell above the door dinged as she entered the building, signaling her arrival.

Caleb walked to the front, seeing his beautiful girlfriend with food. A smile appeared on his face as he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled away from Karsyn before planting a kiss on her luscious lips. Their smooch lingered on, but before it got heated, Karsyn pulled away.

“Hana deo.” Caleb breathed heavily, trying to kiss Karsyn’s lips once again. ( “One more.” )

His girlfriend giggled, pressing a kiss to his lips, but he wanted more as he pulled her closer. “No. You have work to do.” She finally pulled away and held up the bag of food.

Caleb poked out his bottom lip in a childish pout before grabbing the bag and heading towards the back room. After a ten-minute wait, Caleb’s client finally arrived. The man greeted Karsyn as she sat at the reception desk before doing the same to the tattoo artist. Her boyfriend led his client to the tattoo station and got to work. Karsyn sat in the front as hip-hop music echoed throughout the establishment.

Karsyn admired Caleb and his eye for creativity. She supported him when he suggested opening his tattoo shop. She got his initials tattooed on her right ass cheek, and he had hers on his pelvis on the grand opening day. On Valentine’s Day in 2017, Karsyn was stood up by the man she thought loved her, but it turns out he didn’t when she received a message of him sleeping with another girl. After watching that video, she became devastated.

She rushed out of the restaurant, and right when Karsyn exited the door, she ran straight into a hard chest. Karsyn looked up, and low and behold, she saw the sexiest face known to man, in her opinion. Caleb had the prettiest smile she had ever seen and instantly started melting. They talked, exchanged numbers, and started dating after a year because of Karsyn’s new relationship issues. Now they’re two peas in a pod and are inseparable.

Approximately three hours later, Caleb finished tattooing his client. He wrapped up the new ink in plastic and thanked the man as he walked to the front and paid. Caleb turned to Karsyn, who was finishing a drawing she was working on. Wrapping his arms around his girlfriend, Caleb pressed his lips to the top of her head before pecking her cheek, making Karsyn giggle.

“Was that the only client you had today?” Karsyn asked, smiling at the taller male.

“No, he was the third one. I helped Tae-Woong with his client who got a back tattoo.” Caleb explained, playing with the nape of Karsyn’s neck. “And another client got a small rose on her forearm.”

“You must be tired.” Karsyn smiled seductively, wrapping her arms around Caleb’s neck. He could see the list clouding her eyes.

“Well, not tired enough for you.” He responded, leaning down to capture her plump lips.

“Well, if you hurry up and close, we can get home faster.” Karsyn grinned, biting her bottom lip teasingly.

Caleb quickly pulled away from his girlfriend and sanitized his equipment before grabbing Karsyn’s hand and keys and locking the door behind them. As they entered his car, Caleb started it up before holding his lover's hand and driving away from the building. When they arrived at their shared apartment, Caleb was instantly on Karsyn. Their lips smacked against each other as his hand gripped and groped anything he could. Karsyn moaned as Caleb pushed her against the nearest wall.

As the couple went to their shared bedroom, clothing came off. Caleb tossed his girlfriend on the bed before climbing on top of her. Once the barrier keeping them apart vanished, Caleb’s back was marked with bright red scratches as he explored Karsyn’s inner walls. He covered her neck and chest in hickies. Their sound of lovemaking echoed throughout the dark apartment.

After their escapade, Karsyn lay in Caleb’s arms as they stared at nothing in particular. She wanted to talk about what she was thinking of earlier and decided that now was as good as any time. Caleb knew she had something on her mind, so he wanted her to say it.

“Speak, dove,” Caleb said, tapping his girlfriend’s forehead with his finger.

“It’s nothing.” Karsyn denied, shaking her head. “I was just thinking about something.”

“Tell me.” He replied, squishing her cheek and making her laugh.

“What would happen if I were to end up pregnant?” Karsyn questioned, looking into her boyfriend’s brown eyes.

“Are you?” Caleb responded, staring at her.

“No, I’m not, but I wondered if I was. I was watching Noémi earlier and was wondering what it would be like if we were to have a baby.” She explained, playing with the silver chain around his neck. “Would you still be with me if I fell pregnant?”

“Of course, I would be with you, Karsyn. Nothing or no one would change that.” He responded, rubbing her shoulder.

“I kept picturing what our child would look like. Would they have your features or mine?” Karsyn commented, smiling at him. “I want them to have your smile. It’s beautiful with curly dark hair and a cute button nose, but I'm scared.”

“Scared of what?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“Of being a good mother. With my relationship with mine, I wonder if I’d end up like her.” Karsyn confessed, picking at her fingernails.

“Baby, listen to me,” Caleb said sternly, grasping his girlfriend’s face to make her look at him. “You are not your mother. In no shape or form. You will be an awesome mother to our babies one day. Understand?”

Karsyn nodded as tears ran down her cheeks. Caleb pressed a kiss to her lips as they lay there in each other's embrace.

“Your dream will come true one day,” Caleb said, giving her a reassuring smile.

He kissed her forehead as she cuddled up to him, soaking in his body heat. In his mind, Celeb wanted the same thing Karsyn did. Since Noémi was born, he has wanted a baby of his own. It did not matter the gender. He just wanted one shared with his sweetheart.

Miya hummed a lullaby as she rocked her daughter to sleep. It was 8:45 pm, and Noémi had gone to bed ten minutes earlier. She carefully placed the toddler in her crib before quietly leaving the room but keeping the door open. As Miya entered her bedroom, she went to her attached bathroom and turned on the shower. Once it was ready, she stripped out of the clothes she had on and stood in the glass enclosure under the water.

The hot water felt amazing on her skin, soothing her muscles. Caring for a one-year-old was hard work, but she managed to do it. After her shower, Miya stepped out and wrapped a towel around her body. She changed into a white seamless plain rib lingerie set for bed since she was the only person in the house. Before settling in bed, Miya did her nighttime skin routine.

As Miya walked out of the bathroom, her phone started ringing. She raced over and saw Chan’s number flashing on the screen. Before answering the call, she found a white oversized t-shirt, put it on over her body, and pressed the green button.

Hello Chan.

(850) 961-3198 - Is this a bad time?

No, I'm just relaxing my brain. It won’t let me fall asleep.

(850) 961-3198 - We have the same problem.

Yeah, I understand. It sucks.

(850) 961-3198 - That it does. Is Noémi asleep?

Yes, she is. She had a hard time falling asleep tonight.

(850) 961-3198 - Aww poor baby.

I know, but she finally gave in and went to sleep.

(850) 961-3198 - Does she stay asleep all night?

Yes, unless she’s sick or something.

(850) 961-3198 - I want to ask you something.

Ask away.

(850) 961-3198 - How did you become friends with Caleb?

I met him through Karsyn when I moved back to Korea. She introduced him as her boyfriend; we’ve been like siblings since then.

(850) 961-3198 - That’s nice.

Yeah, Caleb’s always been like the protective brother I never had. He was there when Noémi was born and cut her umbilical cord, but since that day, his protectiveness has intensified.

(850) 961-3198 - That's good. Someone is there to protect you when I can’t.

Exactly, but it’s out of love. He doesn’t like it when I go out with Noémi by myself.

(850) 961-3198 - I can understand that. Caleb wants to make sure you two are safe.

Yeah, and I love him for that, as do the others. I love them with all my heart.

(850) 961-3198 - I like that for you. I like your friends who will do anything for you and Noémi.

Yeah, I couldn’t ask for anyone better.

(850) 961-3198 - Tell me about you.

What do you want to know?

(850) 961-3198 - Anything. What’s your favorite food?

Kimchi fried rice.

(850) 961-3198 - Do you like sweet or spicy food?

Both, but mainly spicy.

(850) 961-3198 - I'm not fond of spicy or bitter foods.

Why spicy food is the best.

(850) 961-3198 - My spice tolerance is very low.

Well, we’re going to have to work on that. I make the best spicy tteokbokki, as my friends say. They love my cooking.

(850) 961-3198 - Who'd you get your recipes from?

My mother and grandmother.

(850) 961-3198 - I’d have to try your food one day.

It’s — amazing.

(850) 961-3198 - You’re cute when you yawn.

Thank you for that compliment.

(850) 961-3198 - I’ll get going and let you go to sleep.

Goodnight Chan.

(850) 961-3198 - Night Miya.

After the call disconnected, Miya added Dimples🤗 to Chan’s contact and laughed as she charged her phone. She was glad Chan called, beginning to miss the sound of his voice. His profound yet alluring voice honestly made her throb down below.

“Go to sleep, Miya Giselle,” Miya spoke to herself, sighing as she turned over.

Before Miya knew it, she was asleep, dreaming about these brown eyes, deep dimples, and husky voice that belonged to her daughter's father.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

the best part of all of this is that we know lu isn’t very self assured or overconfident right. if anything she’s conscious, but she looks up to the bloody trinity SO much that if one of them tells them she’s really good at something she will hold onto that. so it doesn’t matter what benny and brady say, bucky told her she’s a good driver so that’s what she believes!

Oh for sure. And Ok with this in mind, might I venture to add— it’s Rosie that finally gets through to her just a little, once Benny is already a rattled old man and one has concerns for car seats and infants aboard, etc.

“Lu, I mean this with love, but I’m going to tell it to ya straight. Two things Bucky told ya: You’re the best damn poker player in the 100th. True. You’re an exellent driver. False. He was checked into the psych ward shortly after, you may recall, for dissociative amnesia and insomnia. We’ll give him a pass he was fresh outta the stalag; a pass your law enforcement officers haven’t given you. How many tickets this month?”

[deanwinchesterswitch]

The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas

Part Nine: A Babe So Dear

Square: Holiday Miracle ~ spnchristmasbingo (2022)

Song: Carol of the Bells ~BarlowGirl

Pairing: Dean x Nicole {Nico/Nic} OFC

Summary: The investigation to uncover the mystery surrounding the abandoned child is surprisingly uneventful but brings about an interesting revelation.

Warnings: Fluff; A teeny bit of angst; Implied sex; Canon divergence

Word Count: 4,152

Beta: princessmisery666

Credit: @talesmaniac89 made the gorgeous title card and divider

Series Master Post

The Road So Far https://forgottenworld.travelmap.net/ - no update for this chapter

"It’s a baby, Dean, not a monster.” She calls over her shoulder as she crouches near the car seat.

“Hang on, don’t touch it,” he admonishes, catching up to her, holding out a flask pulled from his back pocket.

“Is that really necessary?” He arches a brow at her, and she reluctantly concedes, huffing, “Fine! But just a couple of drops.” Nic breathes a relieved sigh when a tiny foot flinches, startled by the cool liquid, but nothing else happens. Wide, watery eyes hold hers, and she reaches for the small outstretched hands.

“Stop!”

With a heavy sigh she turns an exasperated look to Dean, only to find him pulling out the small silver knife he keeps stashed in his boot. “I’m not cutting a baby!”

“What?! Geezus, do you really think I want you to slice into a kid?” he huffs indignantly, twirling the weapon so the hilt is pointed at her.

Nic’s cheeks warm with embarrassment, “N-no,” but Dean’s expression clearly indicates he doesn’t believe her. “I’m sorry.” She juts out her bottom lip, features morphing into her best impression of a sad puppy. “Forgive me?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean shakes his head, but he can’t hide the quirk of his lips. She shifts toward the child, but he grips her forearm. “Remember me telling you about the shifter baby?”

Understanding spreads across her features, and she looks back at the infant. “Oh yeah. That was before you let me officially become part of the team.” Reminded of the night after a rough hunt where they’d had to bandage each other up, which led to sharing a bed and the start of their more than friends relationship, she gives him a teasing smile. 

Dean hums, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, obviously recalling their first night together as well. A soft cry brings their attention back to the matter at hand. Countenance soft but determined, he gently twists her arm and places the weapon in her hand.

“Alright, alright.” Nic carefully places the flat end of the blade against the child’s foot. Once again, the baby startles, eyes wide and body stiff, but there’s no sizzling of skin or other indications of a supernatural being, and they both exhale in relief.

Apparently, having had enough of their shenanigans, the tiny human emits a loud wail, body trembling, legs kicking, arms thrown out, and hands balled into fists. Nic quickly releases the buckle and lifts the baby from the car seat, standing as she bounces the child in her arms. The wails turn to whimpers, but the small face remains red, and tears flow from the corners of scrunched eyes.

When the infant continues to fuss despite Nic’s best efforts, she finally gives up and hands the little outraged bundle to Dean. As soon as the child is resting against his shoulder, silence surrounds them. “Of course,” she huffs, rolling her eyes when Dean flashes her a smug smile and a wink.

Cautiously looking around, Dean says. “We should probably take her to the hospital. Make sure she’s not hurt.”

“No!” Nic emphatically cries. “If we do that, they’ll want to question us and then call CPS.”

“Nicole.” Dean understands her resistance to the idea. Nic was thrown into the system a few weeks before Christmas at an age where she could remember everything that happened. He also isn’t thrilled about the prospect of dealing with the police or child services. However, they’re not equipped to take care of a child. “She might need-”

“No!” Bottom lip trembling, eyes tearing up, she begs, “Please. She can move all her limbs, her eyes are bright, and her lungs are obviously fine. This close to the holidays, CPS is even more overwhelmed. Who knows what will happen.” She gently places a hand on the baby’s back, “or where this cutey will end up.”

“Nico.” She glares at him, but he continues, knowing that he may be risking life and limb, attempting to make her see reason. “I get it, I really do, but we don’t have even one of the million items it takes to care for a baby. It’s probably best-”

Quickly cutting him off, voice edged with determination but eyes pleading, she argues, “We have a car seat. We’ll stop at the store on the way back to the hotel. If we find any signs of injuries once we’re safe, then we’ll take her to the hospital.” She grips the edge of his jacket with her free hand. “W-we can call Jody to see if she can help us. Please.”

“We can’t-” A soft coo reaches his ear, and tiny fingers brush against his neck as Nic tilts her head, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye. “Fine,” he sighs in resignation, “but we’re calling Jody as soon as we get back to the hotel.”

“Thank you!” she gleefully cries, throwing her arms around him, careful not to squish the baby between them. Pulling away, a flash of bright color catches her eye. “What’s that?” She takes a step toward the tree line, but Dean grips her elbow. Patting his hand, she smiles. “It’s alright. It looks like a diaper bag.”

After a meltdown in the store, where, again, Dean is the only one able to quiet the infant, they make it safely back to the hotel room without further incident. While Nic gets a squirmy Kara into a clean diaper and a footed onesie they found in her bag, Dean calls Jody to ask for help identifying the child and hopefully finding her parents.

“Yeah, we did all the tests. Seems to be a normal kid. Doesn’t appear to have any injuries either.” Dean paces the room, listening to Jody reiterate all the scenarios he’s already run through. “I know. I already went through all of that with her, but you know why she wouldn’t leave the kid with CPS, especially this time of year.”

Stopping at the window, he stares into the starry darkness beyond his reflection, “No, no last name. The only thing written on the back was ‘Nana and Kara - 5 months’. It’s a close-up, can’t see much of the room. Nothing to indicate where they live. I’ll send ya a copy of the photo.” A series of tiny cries echo from the bedroom along with a frustrated ‘Seriously?’ and Dean chuckles. “Listen, Jody, I gotta go. Thanks for helping. We’ll call you in the morning.”

Dean enters the bedroom to find the faces of both female occupants adorably scrunched—one in fitful unhappiness, the other in dejected exasperation. “Why doesn’t she like me?” Nic pouts as Dean steps up behind her. She tosses aside the stuffed reindeer she’d been trying to engage the little girl with.

“Aww, she’s just scared and probably tired.” Dean reaches around her to lightly tickle Kara’s belly. “Aren’t you, sweetie.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, tiny eyes pop open, and the crying morphs into a soft cooing.

Nic throws her hands in the air with a grunt. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. It doesn’t matter how old they are.” Pointing a finger at the little girl, she teases, “He’s mine, missy. Don’t get any ideas.”

Kara blinks at Nic and then grips one of Dean’s fingers in her tiny hand, kicking her legs with a happy gurgle.

“Oh my god!”

Dean laughs, wrapping an arm around Nic as he kisses the top of her head. “Don’t worry, gorgeous, you’re still my number one.”

“Hmph.” Nic pushes against his chest. “Maybe we should run some more tests on her. Make sure she’s not some ancient deity or something posing as a baby.”

Smiling, when Nic narrows her eyes at Kara, he attempts to allay her doubts. “We’ve done every test we could with what we have. Pretty sure she’s human.”

“Yeah, well, you can put her to bed. I’ll clean up.”

Carefully lifting the little girl to his shoulder, he gently bounces, patting her back, and whispers, “You’re going to be good, right? No more fussing?” Humming, he makes his way over to the portable playpen they bought, rocking in place for a moment.

She looks to be already half asleep when he lays her down, so he continues to hum until her eyes fall closed, a tiny fist pressed to her mouth. As he turns, he sees Nic exit the room and follows her, grabbing the baby monitor before closing the door behind him.

Nic’s standing at the window, the tenseness in her shoulders telling him all he needs to know. Hearing her sniff as he draws closer, he turns her to face him. The tears he knew would be there stream down her face. Pulling her into a tight hug, he tries to reassure her. “Don’t worry, honey, we’ll do everything we can to find her family.”

Dean wakes to a whimper from the area of the sleeping baby and an empty spot next to him. As he quickly sits up, Nic exits the bathroom in a simple but expensive-looking suit and heels he’s never seen before. Confused, he looks around the room, catching the time on the clock—9 am.

They’d gotten up twice during the night with Kara, once to change her diaper and once to feed her. The last one had taken some time to get her back to sleep, but they finally got her settled around seven. He’s not familiar with a baby’s sleep schedule, but he feels like it’s kind of late in the morning for her to still be sleeping. Although, the poor kid’s probably exhausted from her recent adventure.

“Wha-” he grunts, running a hand through his hair. The baby stirs, and Nic shushes him. Glancing over to Kara and finding her still asleep, he slips from the bed and meets Nic in the other room.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she greets with a kiss.

Eyes drifting to her open laptop on the narrow island dividing the small kitchen from the living room, he sees a notebook with the visible pages covered in her handwriting lying beside it and shakes his head. “You didn’t go back to sleep.”

“No.”

“What’s going on?”

“I did a little research of my own and then called Jody. I found an Amber Alert associated with a carjacking in Utah. She had, too, but was still concerned there might be something supernatural related and was looking into that further before calling. We discussed options, and after comparing the picture we have to the missing Utah child's photo, we’re pretty sure it’s Kara. Since they’re infants, it’s hard to tell.

Slipping her phone into a skirt pocket, she smiles. “Can’t believe I found a skirt this slim with pockets.” She does a little twirl and asks, “How do I look?”

Dean rakes his eyes over her form, giving her an appreciative grin as she continues. “There’s no mention in the missing person’s report of a birthmark like the one we found on Kara’s leg. They might be holding that back for identification purposes, though. Jody suggested I go to the Sheriff’s office instead of the police department. Figured they might be a little easier to deal with. She offered to call ahead, but since she doesn’t have any contacts there, we decided it would be best I go in cold.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Scrubbing a hand down his face, he shakes his head and blinks, now focusing fully on what she’s saying rather than the form-fitting outfit he’d like to peel from her shapely figure. “I’m going. Where’d you get that suit anyway?”

“No. I am.” Pulling her Fed badge from her bag, she tucks it into the inside jacket pocket. “You are staying with Kara. And I got it from the boutique downstairs.”

“You can’t leave me with a baby?”

“Why not? You took care of a shifter baby. You’re great with kids.” She gives him a teasing smile and pats him on the chest. “Besides, she likes you better.”

Gripping her wrist, he holds her in place. “Nope. I’m going.”

“Look, for whatever reason, she is obviously uncomfortable with me. Are you going to put both of us through what will surely be a stressful situation if left together?”

He knows she’s right, but he still doesn’t like it. Nic runs her free hand down his arm, capturing his hand in hers as she steps closer. Her eyes plead with him as he stares her down. When her lips slip into a little pout, he shakes his head, and she chuckles, knowing she’s won.

“Fine,” he grumbles, letting go of her wrist. “Just make it quick.”

“Love you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he gripes but leans in for a kiss. “Love you, too,” he grins as he lets her go.

“Oh,” reaching for the door handle, she stops, turning to look back at him, “I ordered you breakfast.” With a final smile and a wink, she leaves him alone with a now awake and, once again, crying baby.

A few hours later, Nic returns to find Dean sleeping on the couch with Kara lying on his chest, one hand cradling the back of her head and the other supporting her bottom. Quickly taking out her phone, she snaps a picture just before his eyes blink open.

Kicking off her shoes and tossing her jacket in the chair, she kneels beside them, whispering, “She’s in my spot.”

Dean glances down at Kara and then back to Nic with a smirk. “You’re jealous of a baby?” he whispers back. Nic pinches his arm, making him grunt and wake Kara. “See what you did.”

The little girl whimpers but remains calm as he sits up. Following suit as Nic stands, he hands the baby to her, laughing at their equally shocked expressions. “I need to pee. I’ll be right back.”

Kara immediately begins to fuss, and Nic sighs. “Listen, I know now why you don’t like me, but still, can’t you cut me a break?”

Not wanting to cause her more agitation, Nic places her on the play mat and slips on the cute little rattle socks they found at the store. Dean must have had them on her earlier. A couple of the other stimulus toys and the stuffed reindeer they’d gotten her are also lying on the mat. Nic smiles wistfully, wishing she could have seen him interact with the 5-month-old. Maybe she’ll get a chance before Kara’s parents arrive.

“Did you say you know why she doesn’t like you?” Running a hand over her hair, he sits beside her on the floor.

Dean reaches over to gently wiggle Kara’s foot, eliciting a rattling noise. A happy chirp escapes the infant with a flailing of limbs before grabbing one of her feet in each of her hands. Nic retrieves her phone from the table, and after pulling up a video clip, she hands it to Dean. Leaning against his shoulder, she watches with him.

“Is this the carjacking?”

“Yeah. There was a CCTV cam at the intersection.”

“Damn, that’s brutal.” The video had reached the point where the father was fighting with the male assailant and trying to get to Kara. “What’s this have to do with you, though?”

“Keep watching.”

“Son of a-” Dean stops himself and quickly glances at Kara.

Despite the situation, Nic can’t help but smile, “She’s too young to understand your potty mouth, Dean.”

“Still.”

Nic squeezes his arm and chuckles at his concern over Kara being corrupted by his cursing.

“Whatever,” he mutters. Looking back to the video, he rewinds it a bit before pausing on what he’d just seen. “Who is that?”

“The female assailant.”

He enlarges the screen and squints at the image. “Whoa, from a distance, she looks like you.”

“Exactly.” Nic looks at Kara, watching as she rolls onto her belly and bats at the wobbler toy nearby. “Caused a bit of a stir at the station after I asked about the case, and they pulled up the file and footage. Thankfully, Garth was home to vouch for my credentials.”

“So now what?”

“Her parents, Daniel and Emily Carter, were contacted, and they’re headed here. To Tucson. Once they arrive, they’ll be interviewed and put through a verification process, then an officer and a CPS Specialist will bring them here to pick Kara up.”

“Here?” Dean gently grips Kara’s chubby thighs, slides her back to the center of the mat she’s nearly rolled herself off of and sets the toys back within her reach. “Why aren’t we taking her to them?”

“Well, since I am a ‘Federal Agent’ on vacation with my ‘husband’. The CPS Specialist agreed it would be less disruptive if she stayed with us for a few more hours. Also, there’s little chance of dealing with the press here versus a more public venue.”

“Smart thinking.” He smiles, squeezing her hand. “Husband, huh?” His gaze turns to Kara, his smile dropping sightly. “When will they be here?”

Nic grips his wrist, turning it to view his watch. “They land in an hour, interview and verification; the drive here won’t take long. I’d say three and a half hours, give or take.”

Dean hums, bobbing his head as he watches the little girl play. He lightly trails a finger over her tiny hand, which she immediately opens to wrap her fingers around. Nic smiles at the gesture. “You getting attached, Winchester?”

“Huh?” His thumb absently strokes Kara’s wrist while she holds tight to his finger, babbling as she stares up at him.

“Dean?” Nic nudges his arm with her shoulder and he pulls his hand back.

“Oh, uh, what?”

“You’re going to miss her, aren’t you.”

“Phfft. No.”

“Yeah, right.” Nic grins at his adorably flustered face. “Come on.” She stands holding out her hand. “It’s about time for her to eat. And I’m starving. Let’s order dinner and get her fed.”

“You switched your ring to your left hand?” She asks as she rearranges the pitcher of holy water and empty drinking glasses on the tray …again.

“Yes.” Mumbling, “for the fifth time.”

Nic stops what she’s doing and sighs. “I’m sorry. I know we don’t have any reason to think so, but I would just feel better if I knew they aren’t secretly demons or some other monster pretending to be her parents.”

“Hey,” walking over, he pulls her into a hug, “I agree. That’s why we made the plan.”

Dean is now wearing the sigil-detailed iron and silver ring she’d gifted him on his 40th birthday as a ‘wedding’ ring. It made the ring’s discrete usefulness during a handshake a little inconvenient, but Dean assured her he’d manage. Nic is wearing her matching ‘wedding’ ring and bracelet. Between them and the holy water, they were confident they’d be able to test everyone in the group.

Now, she can’t help the rising nerves and hopes, with all her heart, that they will be able to safely return Kara to her family. Basking in the reassuring warmth of his embrace, Nic startles when there’s a knock on the door. With a deep breath, she steps back and smooths down her dress.

His warm hand grips her upper arm, “Ready?” and softly squeezes when she nods.

As it turns out, the Carters are so grateful for them finding their daughter and taking care of her that they each hug Dean and Nic, making it easy for the warded jewelry to make contact with their skin in the process. During the flurry, Nic is able to brush her bracelet against the CPS Specialist’s arm.

The holy water and the officer prove to be the sticking point. There hasn’t been an opportunity to shake his hand or make contact, and no one is interested in the water as the conversation falls to reuniting the family.

After placing the tray on the table next to where the officer is standing, Nic pretends to stub her toe and stumble as she turns. In the process, she grips the officer’s forearm for balance, pressing her ring against his flesh, and fake coughs ‘Cristo’ just loud enough for everyone to hear. With no hint of black eyes or anything smoking out, Nic apologizes to the officer as Dean gives her an admiring nod before offering to get Kara.

Forty minutes later—after a river of joyful tears had been shed and another flurry of hugs and heartfelt thanks—the room is eerily silent as the couple sits on the couch holding hands.

Dean’s phone vibrating on the table breaches the stillness. Showing her the caller ID, he grunts, “We forgot to call her,” and answers with a cheerful, “Hey, Jody.”

Nic closes her eyes, tuning out the one-sided conversation as she reflects on the past 24 hours. Soft, plush lips pressed to her temple bring her back to the moment.

“Good news,” he whispers.

“More?” she murmurs, keeping her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of his thumb caressing the side of her hand.

“Yeah. While everyone here was celebrating, the dickbags were being cuffed and shipped off to County in Colorado Springs. I hope they drop the soap!”

Nic’s eyes snap open to a gleaming smile that she can’t help but return. “No way! That’s awesome.” Shaking her head, she stares at him in wonderment. “You can’t tell me that all of this wasn’t a holiday miracle.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“All the ways it could have gone wrong, the horrible things that could have happened to that adorable little girl. They could have left her anywhere, yet we were in the right place at the right time.” Nic lets go of his hand, draping her arms over his shoulders as she crawls over him to straddle his lap. “The douchebags that hurt that family will be brought to justice. And nothing supernatural involved? That in itself is a miracle.”

Dean nods. “Alright, I’ll give you that.”

Nic grins and falls into him for a hug, her eyes meeting the row of bags filled with baby supplies. “What are we going to do with all this stuff?”

The Carters were thankful for the extra diapers and formula but declined the other items, saying they already had plenty at home. They at least took the stuffed reindeer, saying it would be a wonderful reminder of the people who saved her life.

“I told you not to buy so much.”

Sitting up to face him again, she gives him a stern look. “I seem to recall that you were the one that went and got a second cart to put stuff in.”

“Well, we weren’t sure how long we would need to take care of her,” he tries to defend.

“Hmph.” Kissing his forehead, she wiggles in his lap. “C’mon. I’m exhausted. Let’s go to bed. We can figure it out in the morning.”

“Why don’t we pack it up and have it shipped back home?” he tosses out like he’s asking her what she wants for breakfast.

Strong fingers grip her waist as she leans back, shocked and a little more than curious to read his demeanor. A gleam of—hopefulness?— is quickly replaced with wariness when she catches his gaze. Sometimes, she hates that she knows him so well to know what he’s thinking. Yet, there are still times of uncertainty. Times where she has to carefully peel back the layers to discover what’s truly churning in that clever, complex mind of his. Arching a brow, she asks, “D- do you want to have a baby?”

“Do you want to have a baby?” he quickly deflects.

“I asked first.”

Fingertips curl into the fabric of her dress, and his thigh muscles tense, but the corner of his mouth curves upward. “Well, technically-”

Knowing he’s going for a joke, she crosses her arms over her chest, “Dean.”

The smirk fades. “I, uh, I don’t know.” He gives her a sheepish shrug. “It was never an option before. But now …” Tucking his chin, his voice fades.

Nic’s thoughts reel with his revelation. He shifts on the cushion, and she knows he’s getting ready to try and blow it off. Gripping his chin, she brings his head up, holding it until he looks at her. “We’ll ship it home, but let’s shelve the conversation. We still have a road trip to finish, but when we get back, we’ll talk about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” The tip of his tongue peaks between his teeth with a cheeky grin, and this time, she’s certain that hope brightens his eyes. “Now can we go to bed?” Wrapping her hands around the back of his neck, she winks. “Nothing to stop us from ‘practicing’ in the meantime.”

Dean chuckles, “Thought you were tired.”

“Suddenly got a second wind.”

He scoots forward on the cushion, shifting his hands to grip her ass and pull her closer. “Well, hang on, gorgeous.”

“Always, handsome.” Nic locks her fingers together at his nape as he stands, squealing when he practically sprints to the bedroom.

Love Me Some Pie tag list: @123passwort // @akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deaneverafter // @deans-baby-momma // @deans-spinster-witch // @deanwanddamons // @globetrotter28 // @iamsapphine // @idreamofplaid // @impala-dreamer // @iprobablyshipit91 // @irgendwas122 // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @justagirlinafandomworld // @justrealizedimmascifygurl // @ladysparkles78 // @lyarr24 // @mimaria420 // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @musicissmylife // @mvdeanw // @pallographsunspot // @princessmisery666 // @raisinggray // @shawnie74 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix // @yvonneeeee

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An Enjoyable Slide to Oblivion Chapter 2: A Right Regular Circus Act

Chapter 1 Summary: Like a lot of girls, Chancy Crawford had once been able to call herself one of Elvis's girlfriends, but that was long time ago. Now, she called herself his friend, or his 'cousin' if any of his girlfriends asked. It was just easier that way. And their relationship was all about being comfortable and easy. Until she gets asked to come and join a tour that seems endless and cursed. Warnings: swearing, drug use, angst, violence, temper tantrums, all the usual. Thank you to everyone who commented, messaged, or liked. I love to chat, so if you ever want to offer critique, ideas or even just chat about our man, I would forever be your slave.

Chapter 2 The very best thing about being around Elvis Presley was that no one paid you the blindest bit of attention unless you were at his side. So, when you were crouching next to a service elevator, peering anxiously through a crack in the outside door to check if the coast was clear and the limo had left, no one would stop and point. The janitor carrying trash to the dumpster out back might give you some side-eye though.

“I thought I dropped… Never mind,” Chancy mumbled, trudging out and down the concrete steps to the loading bay where the limo was still waiting. She had to get her mind right and regain her solid footing. That was who she was, the cool voice of reason, the comforting and unwavering presence amidst the chaos. Becoming part of the pieces flying around this tornado of insanity just was not an option.

Elvis was standing on the other side of the limo amidst a growing throng of admirers, signing pieces of paper and napkins and whatever else was shoved into his hands.

Sonny and Joe bookended him looking tense and watchful and Chancy, for the first time, worried about the fans rather than what they could do to Elvis. After last night, she had a glimpse of their perspective.

As Dick came forward to usher Chancy to the car, a woman plopped her baby into Elvis’s arms and he grappled with the infant and the book another fan was trying to show him at the same time.

“Hell no,” cried Lamar, who was sitting by the window when Chancy approached the door behind the driver’s seat. “I’m already one nut down, woman, you sit in the damn backseat!”

All the guys in earshot burst into raucous laughter and Chancy swallowed the bile in her throat at the thought of what happened last night becoming just another wild tale of ‘life on the road’.

Cheeks burning, she went to pull on the handle for the other door, but the driver was already there, opening it for her like she was a movie star leaving a glittering premiere.

Feeling far from glamorous, she slid into the back seat and paused. Lamar and Ricky were in front of her and the driver climbed back into his seat. She was otherwise alone on the long bench seat at the back.

“Where’s Gail?”

“Above my pay grade, “ Lamar shrugged. “Hopefully on the plane back to Godknowswhere, Ohio by now, where she can go back to fussing and scheming over the good ole boys there.”

There was a flurry of motion as doors opened and men climbed in from all directions. Joe appeared to Chancy’s left and she hesitated before sliding awkwardly across next to Elvis to give him room.

“… Well, you know, man, everything else crashes and burns, I still got prospects, that’s all I’m saying,” Elvis murmured dryly as the car pulled away from the parking area and the people outside started calling goodbyes and trying to chase the car.

“Boss just discovered he can juggle,” Sonny explained to the rest of the car, chuckling. “Which was lucky for that baby…”

“A right regular circus act we got going here,” Lamar quipped.

“Yeah, well, we already got enough clowns,” Elvis shot back, adjusting his sunglasses.

The car erupted into guffaws as expected and Chancy smiled faintly, feeling Elvis’s eyes on her. She watched as his bejewelled hand reached down and straightened the hem of his coat over his thigh, then moved slowly to her lap where she had her fingers tightly interlocked. He rested his hand palm-up on her leg and his long fingers flexed slightly. She glanced up to find he was looking out the window at the low, industrial buildings and highway. She didn’t know how he managed it or even how he thought to do it, but whenever she reached that precipice when she felt manipulated and small, he would do something so awkward and tender like he was a nervous boy going on his first date and her absolute devotion for that boy, that one that he had been, just came roaring back in and flooded out the fear and second-guessing.

Wordlessly, she untangled her fingers and placed her hand on top of his, inhaling shakily as his fingers slid between hers and clasped hold. As soon as he had her, his hand moved back to his own thigh, pulling her closer against him. She watched his lips tilt up at the corners as he stared out the window and her heart actually flip-flopped like she was fourteen again.

At the airport, there was a long line of fans waiting by some metal railings overseen by the local police. Chancy studied the faces of the cops, wondering if she would see the one she had tangled with the night before, hoping for both their sakes that she would not. Elvis looked over at the crowd too. She could almost see the cogs working, that constant need for connection and adoration that drove him, tugging at him.

“I’m gonna go say hi,” he said and, immediately, Dick, Red and Sonny were at his side though he hadn’t raised his voice. They all knew he couldn’t resist an audience whenever or wherever.

Chancy stepped back to let them pass by, but Elvis turned to her and gave her a sweet kiss on the lips, promising he’d meet her in a few minutes.

“Watch me, three babies and a puppy I’mma juggle this time,” he joked.

“C’mon then, Miss CC Rider,” Lamar intoned, dredging up an old nickname, one so ancient that it should have fallen apart in the daylight. It seemed like she was back in the gang.

Chancy stepped into the leased plane and found Charlie and Sandi looking worse for wear. Sandi slid her sunglasses down her nose and held out a commiserating hand.

“I heard you kicked a cop like you were Bruce Lee?” she said.

“Ha, no, I hit him with my shoe, which I wasn’t wearing at the time, and then I think he put me in some kind of chokehold. A promising start to my life of crime.”

“Well, I heard he ain’t gonna be a cop much longer,” Charlie commented, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh God, what?” Chancy snapped flatly.

Charlie shrugged and looked coy, which was just as infuriating as the news he had delivered. Half of them should have been arrested the previous night. In no way should they have the power to take away someone else’s livelihood for being overly zealous. It was lucky they were doing these one-night stands, Chancy could only imagine the destruction they would wreak if they stayed longer.

“I’m sorry I didn’t go up with you, Chance. Should’ve made sure you were okay.”

“Naw, Charlie honey, then it could’ve been you screaming and lashing out with your heels,” she replied. “And I’d sure hate to lose my awe and appreciation for how macho you are.”

Like the endlessly good sport he was, Charlie pretended to pat his imaginary bobbed hair and fluttered his eyelashes.

“Aw, hell no,” Elvis’s voice came booming down the plane. “Like hell am I gonna have you troublemakers together on a goddamn airplane!” 

“I didn’t do nothin’!” Charlie protested with a loud laugh as he reached them.

“Son, from what I heard you were butchering the shit out of Hank Williams on the piano, that ain’t nothing in my book.”

So, the party had continued after Chancy had gone upstairs, she wasn’t surprised. And neither was she surprised that Elvis knew exactly what had gone on either. He always did somehow.

“Just got a bit homesick is all,” Charlie shrugged lightly.

“Yeah, well, remember when we’re out here, you- all of you- represent me and I don’t want my name connected with some fuckin' wasted backwoods bullshit, you hear?”

The plane fell silent and the mood switched like someone sliding a dial. When it was clear Elvis was waiting for a response, Charlie murmured:

“Sure thing, Boss. I’m sorry.”

Chancy tried to let her surroundings blur so that she didn’t see the discomfort of those around her; she had more than enough of her own to wallow in, but she caught sight of Sandi squirming and realised that this was the first time she had seen Elvis turn like this. Elvis evidently noticed too, because his mood changed on a dime.

“Aw, I ain’t talking about you, Sandi honey. C’mon over here and say hello properly, baby.”

Sandi did as she was told, her smile flickering as he drew her into his arms and gave her a firm, long peck on the lips.

“Ain’t your fault, baby. Ain’t your fault you’re dating a damn fool.”

It was all Chancy could do not to sing out praises like she was back in the Assembly of God when the pilot made his way along the aisle to say hello to his famous passenger.

Distracted, Elvis released Sandi and she half tumbled back into her seat looking dazed. Chancy looked to Charlie and, bless his heart, he just hitched up the side of his mouth as if to shrug it off.

After a few minutes playing the charming star, Elvis shook the pilot’s hand, called him ‘sir’, and sent him off with a smile. Chancy felt pressure on her shoulder and looked up to see him gazing down on her.

“Let’s go, darlin’.”

Chancy felt the eyes of every single person on the plane on her as she followed Elvis back to the private bedroom suite. Her brain helpfully wondered if they had changed the sheets since he and Gail had been in there.

Elvis dropped down into a space age looking chair with a sigh, dropped his glasses onto the table, and started removing his boots and his jacket. He glanced up at her through his brows and shot her a crooked smile.

“S’okay, honey, you don’t need to stand guard.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been somewhere like this before,” she remarked, looking around at the vast bed and the inlaid television and stereo system.

“You have.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Honey, yes, you have. You, Linda, and that hairdresser, what’s her name… Patti… decided to have a pyjama party that time coming home from Palm Springs. Half the guys were panting out on the other side of the door.”

“Huh, oh yeah. You wanted to join us, but you wouldn’t let us give you pigtails or braid your hair.”

“Baby, what I wanted had nothing to do with my hair,” he replied in a low voice.

“You wanted a manicure then?” she asked, playing dumb.

“Ha, get over here and I’ll show you, you tease.” She crossed to the other Star Trek chair as a seatbelt sign lit up and the engines roared into life.

The captain came over the intercom telling everyone in a lovely, soothing voice that they were preparing for take-off and they should all take their seats and fasten their belts. It was a three-hour flight to their destination and the weather was looking fine and clear.

Elvis grasped her hand when the roar ramped up and the plane started to jolt as it picked up speed on the runway. He didn’t look worried, but that didn’t really mean much. When they were together they used to always sleep with a light on and Elvis told everyone it was because she was afraid of the dark. She wasn’t.

Once the seatbelt sign flicked off, he rose and tugged her hand, leading her across to the fur covered bed and instructing her softly to take off her shoes. She resisted his nod for her to climb further onto the mattress.

“What is it?” he asked, and a smile touched his lips. “I swear to God if the next word out of your mouth is wait…”

“You sent Gail home,” she said, which she realised did not come out as a question or an opinion or anything that he could respond to. He evidently felt the same way. “I mean, I didn’t… expect that.” He studied her for a long time and she wondered what he was seeing.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he said finally.

She couldn’t tell him as she didn’t either. He seemed so far away, closed up behind dark eyes and an unsmiling mouth. He nodded to himself and scooted closer, awkwardly knocking knees with her. She registered that with a smile as he was reaching up and cupping her jaw. Then he was kissing her and she stopped noticing much of anything.

Elvis kissed much like he did most things he chose to do, wholeheartedly and instinctively, surging past insecurities and misgivings. He kissed as though the person he was kissing was the most beautiful, important, and delicious person he had ever met.

Every girl Chancy had seen him kiss, girlfriends, co-stars, and fans, there had been so many of them, had that same dazed, blessed aura afterwards. It added a bitter edge to her own glow knowing how she was just like so many others. She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her, his face all planes and curves of shadow and skin, lashes, and lips, none of the features sliding together into a full picture.

“W-“ She stopped herself self-consciously and put a hand to his chest. His heat radiated through her like he had lava just beneath the skin. He had that same blank, faraway expression on his face as she pushed, guiding him down onto his back.

Propping herself up with a palm on the mattress, she leant over him, her hair sliding from her shoulder and acting as a curtain against the left side of his face. She studied his black brows, then his grey-blue eyes that looked almost black in the shadows and the thick dark lashes that made them irresistible, the straight line of his nose, down to the almost feminine fullness of his lips. She watched them spread into a devilishly adorable smile and realised that she was smiling too. She dipped down further, sliding her hand around his neck, and pressed her lips against him. His arms were around her, filling her with warmth and burning away that icy bitterness that kept her from enjoying the moment. Heat was in fact filling all of her, pooling in her core and tingling in her legs. Elvis moaned softly into her mouth and it shocked her back into her body, finding herself draped half across him.

“No, no, no, don’t do that,” he mumbled in a hoarse whisper.

“Don’t do what?” she whispered back. Her swollen lips tingled.

“Hide out in there,” he replied, tapping her temple. “Always analysing and questioning.” She couldn’t exactly deny it. “You know, Mama used to say that the reason we’re so good together was that you have the mind for both of us and I have the heart.”

It sounded so simple and country and sweet and wise that Chancy knew that it was probably true. God, she missed that woman! Elvis trailed his finger from her temple and down the side of her face.

“Which I know means that I haven’t had a mind in a long time. And I guess a whole lot of people would agree with that,” he snorted quietly. 

“And I haven’t had a heart?” she asked quietly.

“Naw, you’ve always had my heart, baby.” She had to kiss him again after a line like that. It deserved a reward, and she told him so. He was grinning as she leant down to press her lips to his.

“See, it’s ‘cause I got my mind back.” With a growl, he rolled over and tucked her underneath him.

The sun was streaming through the clouds as they disembarked and Chancy smiled at the way it pierced the sky like spotlights. Accompanied by a photographer, some men in business suits stood by a limo parked near the plane. She recognised one of the men as a long-time employee of Colonel Parker, Bitsy Mott. Elvis was at the front of their party and, at the bottom of the steps, Mott ushered him over.

“Damn politicians can’t even wait until we get to the hotel before they’re pumping him for photo ops and donations,” Lamar muttered at her shoulder.

“Who are they?” she asked.

“Lord knows. Governor, mayor, damn President, all the same.” He ushered her towards the car and she noticed he had a slight limp as he did so.

“How are you?” she asked, pausing before she climbed in. He waved her concern away with an ‘aw shucks’ motion. “You seemed pretty hurt last night.”

“You too,” he pointed out. “Never a dull minute, huh!”

Sitting alone in the car, she tried to enjoy the relative peace and quiet with just the distant sounds of conversation and camera shutters whirring from behind the car. She glanced down and realised that the top button of her blouse had come undone. Her cheeks heated as she fastened it quickly, trying to remember if she had been aware of Elvis undoing her buttons. Apparently his nimble fingers were not just good for playing guitar and piano. Even as she thought that her stomach flipped and the weight of what was happening came crashing back down on her chest.

It was like a strange fever dream without the relief of waking up and taking some Tylenol. What was she doing? Why was she doing it? How was this going to end? Because it most certainly would, if only because it was Elvis and his attention span and track record spoke for themselves. All of which she would have more authority disparaging if she had managed to endure a relationship for longer than a year. Endure, that wasn’t the right word! It was a symptom of her sickness! Lord, what had she begun? Why had she begun it when she knew that she didn’t have the heart or soul to see it through?

“Goddamn, he had a lot to say!” said Sonny as he opened the car door and Elvis climbed in beside her. Sonny followed, perching his large frame on the bucket seat.

“Politicians, man, they like to hear themselves talk,” Elvis sighed. He tossed a large box in her direction and she fumbled as she caught it. “There ya go, don’t say I never give you nothing.”

“What is it?” she questioned, lifting the lid. Inside was a gleaming ornate silver key sitting on light blue silk. There was a plaque screwed to the inside of the lid.

“Key to the city. Go nuts.” He grinned. “One night I’m gonna get them all together and go to town, man, rip off the whole country. Don’t count as a crime spree if they give you the keys, right?”

“That would be an interesting defence in court, that’s for sure,” she nodded, closing the box.

“Oh, I wouldn’t get caught, honey, I’m too smart for that. And who’s going to suspect me anyway?”

“I guess you’re right. Actually, you know what, I reckon you could probably get away with not even wearing a disguise. It’d be on the news.” She put on a nasal mid-Atlantic accent. “‘Downtown was hit by a one-man crime wave today. Police say that the offender was disguised as Elvis Presley. The public should be on the lookout for impersonators and avid fans.’”

This started the guys started riffing on Elvis’s newfound circus skills again, coming up with more and more outlandish circus-related additions to the show until they were breathless from laughter at the absurdity of it all.

Chancy enjoyed it, appreciating the break from the intensity of it being just the two of them. Elvis’s leg was pressed hard against the side of hers, she could feel his heat seeping through her pants. When he first got settled, she had mistaken that pressure and shifted away to give him more room, but he had given her a strange look that was half exasperation and half hurt and widened his legs, knocking his thigh into her knee.

For a man who spent most of his time being mauled and grabbed, manoeuvred, and physically guided places, he never seemed to tire of being touched. It both confused and moved her.

At the hotel, Chancy was given the room next to Elvis. The way Jerry smiled and winked at her as he handed over the key increased the acid in her stomach. She felt like she had just pulled a ticket at the deli counter. Number 20 in the queue.

Sighing, she dropped onto the bed and let her head fall against the pillow. She stayed that way as she called home and checked in with her sister.

Chancy thought about telling her what had happened, how she had found herself in a weird situation with no obvious exits, but she could not foresee how Alicia would react, which ties of loyalty would pull tightest, since like most people she thought Elvis rated somewhere between the President and God himself. It was a complete clusterfuck.

As she lay there, blinking into the peace and watching dust motes float across the blades of light that sliced through the window, there was a sudden thump on her wall, hard enough to make the generic painting of purple topped mountains jolt. She lifted an eyebrow and climbed off the bed, slapping her palm against the wallpaper.

Immediately, thunder erupted across the vista of her wall like a violent electric storm in the middle of summer. She had to wait for it to stop before she could respond with another slap. Some people just called on the telephone. How boring was that.

Clutching her fingers around the security pass that she was never leaving her room without again, she went to the neighbouring door and knocked. Red didn’t question her appearance at the door and opened it wider to let her through.

“Hi, sorry to bother y’all,” she called, lifting her voice an octave. “I’m Barbara from the Customer Service Desk and we’ve received a complaint about a maniac banging on the walls and upsetting our guests. A very disturbed woman just called.”

“Oh yeah, she’s disturbed all right that one,” said Elvis, grinning as he emerged through the door from the adjoining bedroom. His hair was falling all across his forehead from his impromptu drum solo on her wall and as he drew close, leaning heavy on her and smushing his lips against her cheek, she pushed it back.

“Hey, man, food’s here,” Sonny said, as Ricky bustled into the room with grease marked bags that he was clutching like they were his babies.

“Have you eaten?” Elvis asked, patting her stomach like her body was a country he had conquered and its boundaries no longer concerned him.

“No, I was calling home.”

“Come eat with us, honey, gotta keep your strength up. Lil Sister’ll kick my ass all over town if I don’t look after you properly.” He led her over to others in the seating area. Ricky was dishing out the food while the guys complained and heckled him.

“Don’t get comfy, kid, you gotta do another run,” Elvis said, taking his food. “Cha-Cha, what d'you wanna eat, baby?”

Ricky did a fantastic job of not looking put out, but he was gripping his own bag so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

“You know,” she said. “Thinking about it, I’m not so sure that I’m hungry right now. I think I’ll probably just grab some room service later.”

“Well, let us order room service for you now,” Sonny said. “Hey, kid, grab that menu by the phone there.”

“Really, there’s no-“

“Shit, don’t waste time with that,” Elvis interjected. “Just order one of everything, there’s bound to be something she likes.”

“Order me up some more fries while you’re there,” Charlie put in. “There’s something like four in here. You eat them on the way back, you little shit?”

Overwhelmed, Chancy’s eyes scanned the menu, but saw nothing, so she picked a club sandwich to stop everyone making suggestions.

“You guys are worse than Southern grandmas,” she muttered. “Forcing people to eat.”

“Did she just call us grandmas?” Sonny asked. “Man, I have been called a lot of things in my time, but I think that one cuts the deepest.”

“You know there ain’t no-one that can cut you off at the knees like a woman,” Charlie remarked.

“Is that what happened to you, Charlie? Bet you were six foot three before you started talking to women.” Ricky put in, finishing his call to order room service, and finally getting to sit with his food. Charlie muttered darkly under his breath.

“Kid, when you’re old enough for women to start noticing you, you know, if you ever grow into that pug-ugly face…”

Chancy tuned out as the insults got cruder and glanced towards Elvis, who was intently focussed on his meal. He had never been a picker of food, tackling his meals with concentration, enthusiasm, and firm idea of how he wanted things to be. She watched him packing his sandwich with what seemed to be a very specific order of pickles, meat, cheese, tomato, and mustard and then nod to himself as if in approval of his work before lifting it to his mouth. He stopped as he caught her staring.

“What? You want some?” He offered it out and then snatched it back just as quickly and took a huge bite, cheeks full like a hamster. His eyes twinkled playfully.

Chancy glanced round at the other men, checked that they were absorbed in their food and the television before dipping across and pressing her lips to the corner of his mouth, licking away the little dab of mustard there. She winked at him as she moved back to her seat. Her belly filled with warmth when his eyes crinkled at the corners. Mouth still full, he leant over and pressed his lips against her cheek, his hand squeezing her thigh.

By the time Chancy’s food arrived, the boys had finished their meals, and Elvis and Charlie were fooling around, singing songs as Charlie tuned his guitar. Chancy took her sandwich from Ricky with a smile and rose to go to the table, because she was raised right. She squeaked as Elvis grabbed her hips without even a pause in his singing and pulled her back down next to him.

“I get a free dinner show, huh,” she joked. He reached across and stole a potato chip from the side of her plate.

“Payment,” he explained. “I don’t work for free.”

She ate her sandwich, listening to Elvis and Charlie singing snatches of old country ballads, bits of gospel, and songs that either of them had heard on the radio and had thought about for the show. Sonny joined in a little when he knew the words. Meanwhile, Elvis also ate all of her chips and even took the pickle.

“Gotta say, the price of this dinner show was steep!” she commented, gesturing at her empty plate. “Did I have to pay the maître de for a ringside table too?” She regretted it as soon as she spoke, seeing his cheeks go pink. “Who am I kidding, I’d definitely spring for the ringside table.” She patted his knee and pecked his cheek, hoping that was enough to get them through the awkward moment.

Not long after that, Joe and some of the other guys arrived. There seemed to be more movement and activity and Chancy took that as her cue to get lost. Elvis was talking with a few of the guys and she didn’t want to interrupt, so she let Ricky know she was leaving before she slipped out of the room. 

Back in her own room, she made her own preparations for the show. She changed into her favourite deep purple miniskirt and black see-through blouse with a black silk chemise underneath. Expertly wrapping the front of her hair in heated rollers, she addressed her face in the less than flattering light of the bathroom mirror. The swelling below her eye had subsided, leaving only a small red lump that was easily covered along with the dark circles that had appeared. She painted on the eyeliner and mascara like it was plaster of Paris to cover the cracks.

Checking that she looked presentable, she came out into the hallway and locked her door to be ready like she usually did. Sonny was hanging about outside Elvis’s room and gave her a nod and a smile.

“You coming in?” he asked, hand on the door handle. The question was unexpected and she considered her answer even as he was already opening the door and beckoning her.

“I guess so,” she murmured, clutching her purse like a shield.

The room was packed with people and every few seconds there was a flash from a camera. She spotted Ricky leaning casually against a wall talking to a woman wearing short shorts and knee-high boots, who was looking everywhere else except for at him. She felt a little sorry for him, but she wasn’t sure he had even noticed her disinterest from the animated way he was talking. She found Elvis almost instantly, of course, in the centre of the action if not the centre of the room, the sun that everyone else was orbiting. She could hear Joe talking loudly and then Elvis’s lower murmur before a burst of laughter from those around them.

“You should go over and let him know you’re here.” She started and whirled round, finding herself face to chest with Sonny, who had apparently followed her in.

“Sorry?”

“He’ll wanna know that you’re here. Go on over and say hi.”

“Uh, okay.” She wasn’t sure when she had acquired a manager, but she did what she was told since she felt out of her element and she figured that he probably knew what he was talking about.

The throng around Elvis was surprisingly tight and she had to sidestep her way through some people, murmuring ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ as she did so. She got a disgusted side-eye from a brunette with incredibly thick fake eyelashes, and she was fairly sure that someone stood on her foot on purpose.

Elvis was evidently in a very upbeat mood, everyone around him was laughing and chattering away and he was talking to everyone and no one, his eyes flitting around and his attention not resting on anyone in particular for more than a second. She could have sworn that his gaze fell on her soon after she shimmied her way into the centre of the throng, but either he didn’t register her or he wanted to teach her some humility, because he didn’t acknowledge her.

It was Joe who noticed her first, saying hi and telling her that she looked good, which was sweet of him considering she was bookended by dozens of young, flawless looking young women.

As if hearing Joe’s comment, Elvis’s eyes finally flicked to her and gave her an appraising look from her feet upwards. She felt oddly both hot and cold as he gazed at her through his thick black lashes.

“Well, look who just appeared,” he remarked in an odd tone. “Keep an eye on her, folks, she’ll soon disappear in a flash.” And the people around him laughed uproariously as if it was an in-joke they all understood except for her.

Well, if this was supposed to humiliate her, they would all soon realise that, in order to humiliate someone, they had to consent to it. Chancy had spent her childhood moving around follow the coast and the river and had walked into dozens of schools where girls had tittered behind their hands at her clothes or her accent or her hair. She had survived that by pretending that she was an undercover spy or the Princess Anastasia, whom she had read about in a dime store romance, hiding from the Russian peasants who wanted to kill her. She had to endure the disdain in order to complete her mission or stay alive long enough to reclaim her throne. 

“I never realised but, you’re right, making people disappear is another of your circus tricks,” Chancy returned loudly to be heard over the Greek chorus. “You’re so talented, Elvis.” She started to slip back out of the huddle, keeping her eyes on his. He paused and then a slow smile began to spread across his face.

“Where you going? Show’s not over,” he said, following her, the mob moving fluidly around him.

“Why, what’s next, you gonna cut me in half?”

He wrapped his hand around her throat, a move that was all for show since his fingers barely touched her skin, and pressed his pout to her cheek.

“I’ll save that for the finale,” he murmured.

“Looking forward to it.”

“Give me that sassy little mouth,” he mumbled, crushing her against him.

It felt strange playing with an audience, something that she would not have tolerated fifteen years ago when she would writhe and withdraw from his arms if anyone else was in the room, but times had changed. They had certainly changed, Elvis most of all. Anyone not happy with giving and receiving affection in public need not apply for the role of whatever she was, because to be with Elvis was to be public.

“You gotta be sweet to me first,” she teased, turning her face. 

“Sweet?! Pssh, honey, I am always sweet to you. I get any sweeter and I’m gonna rot your teeth.” He tried following her mouth, but resigned himself to nuzzling her neck, nibbling, and then biting at the skin.

“Ow, okay, okay! Stop that!” She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, waiting. When nothing happened, she opened one eye and found him just staring at her, a small smile on his face. “What?”

“Nothing, just wanted to look at you.”

Too much, it was too much for her. If all the people in the room were staring at her (which they weren’t because they found her far less interesting than Elvis) it would not have been as overwhelming as his soft gaze.

“You’re right, you’re already sweet,” she commented quickly. She was relieved when someone else touched his arm and attracted his attention, releasing her from the pressure of being entertaining.

When they made their way to the show, Chancy found that being part of the comet was different to floating about in the tail. At first, Elvis had a tight hold of her hand and her biggest problem was keeping up with the long-legged strides of the men all around her. With the likes of Dick and Sonny forming a barricade, she could barely make out their surroundings and had to trust that they were not leading her straight into a wall or a hole in the ground. However, at the entrance of the hotel- something she only recognised because the air changed to chilly and slightly damp- Elvis paused to sign some autographs and she lost his hand as anchor.

The pressing and nudging around her was suffocating and acted like a current, drawing her further away from the group. She didn’t want to be the idiot that got lost or overwhelmed, distracting Elvis and the other guys from their jobs, so she kept quiet and tried to steer herself towards the car through jostling people calling out Elvis’s name with varying degrees of franticness. Right when she thought she might have to become one of them, Lamar shoved his way through the crowd like a grumpy, lumpy-looking superhero and took hold of her bicep.

“I got ya,” he murmured. “Don’t worry. Hey, let us through!”

Chancy had never been so glad to get into a car even with all the faces and camera lenses pushed up to the windows. She kept her head down and ignored the flashes.

“Hey, if you could, uh, neglect to mention I nearly lost you there I’d sure appreciate it,” Lamar called over his shoulder from the front seat.

“I’m not a liar,” she replied. “Why would I say that I got lost when it never happened?”

“Nice, thanks.”

The atmosphere in the car once it had set off for the arena was dense and strange. Elvis felt far away even as he was pressed against her. She could feel the vibrations from his jiggling leg and she watched as he flexed his hands repeatedly. She wondered what she could say to help soothe energy and anxiety that was powerful enough to show through his normally strong containment field, but finally realised that words were probably too much of a commitment and an imposition for him now. Instead, she put her hand on his thigh, unnerved by how tense the muscle was.

Without looking at her, his own hand dropped on top of hers and pushed it down. She understood, increasing the pressure until her arm started to ache.

Backstage at the arena, there was a contingent of fans from England who wanted to present Elvis with an award. They stared at him as if he was ten foot tall and glowing. Chancy found it endearing how he had the effect of turning adult men and women into awed believers. It de-aged them, making the cynical and jaded shell that people developed as they went through the machinations of life crack and flake away. She imagined their faces to be the same as they had been on Christmas morning when they were young and they rushed downstairs to see if Santa had been.

It was not one-sided though, because Elvis seemed affected too and became gentler and more considerate like he too could see the little children he had manifested.

One girl in particular got to Chancy’s heart. She stood at the edge of the group in silence, her eyes fixed on Elvis as he talked to her friends and signed autographs. When he moved along the line and came to her, she immediately bubbled over into overwhelmed tears.

Chancy’s own heart lurched and she was gratified to see Joe get the girl some Kleenex and pat her on the shoulder.

Elvis cupped the girl's chin so tenderly and gave her a peck on the cheek, all the while stroking her arm like he wasn’t the cause of her emotional overload. It was adorable to watch.

Afterwards, he came and stood by Chancy while Joe explained the stage set up and any hazards he had foreseen. Apparently, the stage was quite low, which meant that the acoustics would not be the best and security would be trickier because the audience would have easier access.

Elvis nodded, but then frowned, asking if the local cops providing security were going to be standing in their usual place at the foot of the stage, because he didn’t want them blocking the view of the front rows.

“I-I-If I can’t see them and they can’t see me, that’s gonna make it so much harder to… y’know.” He gave a wry little smile. “Do my thing. I mean, my job.”

“Yeah, best keep your thing out of it with that many cops around,” Jerry quipped. Some of the guys guffawed and Chancy rolled her eyes, feeling like she was back in High School.

“You want me to keep it out?” Elvis asked, looking perplexed before shrugging and pretending to reach for his belt. The rest of the guys howled and shouted about shutting the door in case of cameras and calling for the ambulance to the nut house for ‘Ole Crazy’.

Chancy wasn’t a prude, though she could play the prim Southern lady if necessary, but she didn’t like the energy in the room. Elvis had disappeared into the bathroom with a doctor for a few minutes before the English fans had arrived and the rest of the guys also seemed ‘over-excited’, eyes sparkling like glass and words coming too fast. There was no one with their foot poised over the brake. The kids were all going wild and Mom wasn’t home.

“Hey, fellas, cool it,” snapped Elvis, of all people. Chancy had been watching Sonny trying inexplicably to shove Lamar out of the dressing room and barricade him in the corridor, and she almost started when she felt arms wrap around her shoulders from behind. “You’re making the lady nervous acting like goddamn animals.” She reached up and gave his forearms a squeeze. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll protect you from these degenerates. You want me to whoop their asses?” She didn’t have time to answer before he stuck his tongue in her ear and started laughing uproariously as she tried to wrestle herself away from his grip. 

It was a relief when Lamar announced it was time for him to take her to her seat. She could see that he was feeling the same, having had to kick Sonny away from him several times. She moved towards him like he was her guardian angel.

“Wait a minute!” Elvis called, grabbing her by the arm and feinting a move towards her face with his tongue out. She ducked her head and squealed. “No, really, for real now.” His other hand caught the nape of her neck and he pressed a kiss to her temple. He was already glistening with sweat and she could feel his heart thundering against her shoulder as he leant in. At the last minute, he licked a strip up her cheek and cackled like a wicked witch.

“Good Lord!” she growled, wiping her cheek with her sleeve. “Y’all are worse than animals!”

“Hey, Lamar, don’t you lose her again, you big ole sonovabitch! Strike one, son!”

Walking down the hallway to the seating area, she raised her hands at the shadows.

“How in the heck did he know?!” she asked.

“Man, I stopped trying to figure out how he does things a long time ago,” Lamar muttered. “Supernatural bastard.” 

The show was exhausting for everyone involved. For a start, Elvis would not stop talking and fooling around. He told the story of his rise to fame with a lot of embellishments and risqué jokes. Chancy got her own little mention:

“I was going with a chick, we were gonna be married, but, uh, it didn’t work out. Don’t think she and my other girlfriends got along… Wonder what she’s up to now, man.”

She rolled her eyes as those in the know chuckled and looked over at her. She saw pity in some of the women’s faces, which made her cheek burn, but mostly she just felt worried. It had been a long time since Elvis had been made to conform to normal social expectations and boundaries, but he tended to, or at least pretended to in public. Clearly, whatever he was taking had made him loosen the reins on himself and she didn’t know of anyone else strong enough to take over that duty.

Just before ‘Love Me Tender’, he ‘borrowed’ the hat of one of the police officers at the foot of the stage and swaggered around kissing the fans that had made it through the cordon while wearing it. She didn’t stop holding her breath until he returned the hat with a polite ‘Thank you, Sir.’ She had been just waiting for a crack about using the handcuffs.

Finally, they were back in the car, Elvis breathless and sweaty beside her, and the guys talking about a large woman who had tried to barrel her way down the aisle like a bowling ball to take out the cops like pins only to be toppled at the first hurdle by a well-placed foot. Chancy frowned at their unkindness, but they just seemed to find her annoyance funny too.

“I think I busted my suit,” Elvis remarked suddenly, groping the inside of his thigh, which was hidden from his view as he sat reclined, his belly bulging over his belt. “Goddamn it. Baby, can you see? Is it bad?”

Chancy leaned over cautiously, not trusting that this wasn’t one of his pranks, but he did seem genuinely concerned and annoyed. She confirmed that he had split his inseam, there was a tear about a couple of inches long. He unwound the towel from his neck and draped it across his lap.

“Fuckin’ lucky those cops were facing the other way,” he muttered. “Would’ve got myself arrested that time for sure.”

“Nah, they can’t arrest you for flashing your drawers,” Joe shrugged. His eyes widened. “Oh Jesus, you were wearing… you didn’t?!”

“Well, I don’t like the lines,” Elvis muttered diffidently. The guys guffawed, covering their faces with their hands.

“Can’t wait to see the review in the paper tomorrow, big old X-rated label across the picture,” Lamar quipped. “And to think they wanted to run you out of town in the early days just for wiggling your legs.”

Elvis didn’t laugh and the amusement rapidly faded out for the guys also, since they were well attuned to his moods. He spent the rest of the car ride with his hands clasped at his groin, his face turned to the window, frowning at the passing street lights.

Back at the hotel, Chancy watched him head back into his room, the guys following him in, but then nearly all of them exiting almost immediately afterwards. She went into her room and let out a sigh at the peace. She closed her curtains and stepped out of her heels, flexing the ache out of her feet. Even as she was considering whether to shower or get changed, there was a business-like knock on her door.

“I have been told to get your dinner order,” Jerry informed her.

It rankled her the way he kept saying it like that, to make it perfectly clear that he was only being civil and courteous because he was under orders. She wondered what she had done for him to only interact when forced.

“I have been told to ask for a salad,” she returned, to let him know she had caught the undertone. “Chicken or cheese or whatever is fine. I take it I’m eating it next door?” He nodded.

“Elvis is just getting washed up and then he’ll let you know when you can go in.” She scowled, couldn’t help herself. Maybe she could buy him a little bell to summon her.

The summons came in the form of Ricky, who beamed at her when she opened the door. She was tempted to ask him if he had a date with the girl she saw him trying to talk to before the show, but decided that was just misplaced irritation towards Jerry and Elvis.

Chancy tapped on the door to Elvis’s room, immediately wondering whether she should have knocked harder in case there was a party going on. Before she could reconsider, Elvis himself threw open the door. He was wearing pyjamas and a robe like he was all ready for bed and he looked her up and down.

“You didn’t get changed,” he commented with a bemused look.

“I didn’t know I had to,” she returned. “Should I… go do it now?”

“If you think I’m letting you disappear again, you’re crazy.” He reached out and took her hand, pulling her into the suite. It was empty, which was something of a revelation. Other than when he appeared in her room, Elvis always had someone with him. Who did he perform to when he was by himself?

“Now, let’s see.” She watched him open a drawer of the dresser in the bedroom and pull out something dark and silky. “Yeah, this’ll do.” He passed her one of his pyjama tops. “Go put this on, honey.” She looked over to the bathroom he was nodding towards.

“My room is just next door,” she reminded him. “I could be there and back in five minutes.”

“We’ve been through that,” he returned firmly. “Be a good girl and do as you’re told.” Her skin warmed and not in a pleasant way. She stalked towards the bathroom, mouthing words that ‘good girls’ would never have said.

“And quit with the sass too,” he called in his mystifying and infuriating all-knowing way.

Chancy eyed herself dubiously in the bathroom mirror, pulling at the bottom of the black silk jacket. It grazed the middle of her thighs, barely covering her underwear, a contrast to the sleeves that hung over her hands. She sighed, rolling them back up over her wrists and then poked her tongue out at her reflection.

Leaning into the ridiculousness, she opened the door and shuffled out like Harpo Marx. Elvis laughed like she knew he would, but as his smile faded it was very clear from the look in his narrowed eyes that he did not share her opinion that she looked foolish.

“Come sit down here, honey, dinner’s here.” He beckoned her over to the seating area and placed her on the couch beside the arm. Then he sat down next to her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him down her side.

The television was on and playing a movie, some spy thriller with people wearing trench coats and demanding to know the whereabouts of the ‘microfilm’ in Russian accents. Elvis watched intently, scooping food into his mouth like he had been told to eat up or there would be no dessert.

She sneaked peeks at his profile as she poked a fork listlessly at the salad. His nose looked like it was sculpted by a Renaissance artist, though she was well aware that in actuality the credit should go to a plastic surgeon in Los Angeles who had been part of the dying studio system back in the late 50s. She remembered crying when she first saw him back from filming his third movie, locking herself in the bathroom so that no one else could see.

It wasn’t that he had looked so different, which he hadn’t as the surgeon had done a refinement rather than an overhaul, but what it represented. It told her that Elvis was prepared to go to any lengths to alter and erase anything that he felt didn’t fit in with his new image, his new lifestyle, and his dreams. She had already known at that point that this included her. 

As if sensing her gaze, Elvis dragged his eyes away from the screen and crossed them as he turned to her, wrinkling his nose.

“What you lookin’ at?”

“I don’t know, stranger,” she replied. “Anyone ever tell you that you look like that famous fella? That guy who sings and makes the girls scream? You know his name.”

“Engelbert Humperdinck?” he replied dubiously. She bit down her smile.

“No, not that one. He’s been famous for a little while now. Why, I heard he sold more records than The Beatles. Darn, why can’t I remember his name?”

A half-smile on his face, he put his empty plate on the coffee table and then slid hers off her lap too. When he leant in for a kiss, she reclined in equal measure.

“Well, Sir, you’re behaving very forward for a stranger, I must say. You’re not one of those disrespectful rock and roll musicians, are you? I was warned about them.”  

“No, no, miss, I’m real respectful,” he murmured, sliding his hand up the inside of her thigh as he rose onto his knees, following her lips. She leant back until the back of her head met the corner of the back of the sofa.

“Oh good. I would hate to get myself caught up with one of those types,” she whispered. “Like that dreamy singer whose name I can’t remember.” He paused, his lips just barely touching hers. His arms bracketed her head, gripping the arm of the sofa on one side and the back on the other.

“Say it,” he murmured. She frowned, almost dropping her wide-eyed persona for a second. “Say my name.” She grinned then, not fooled by the dominant façade, hearing the need behind it.

“It’s on the tip of my tongue…” she stalled, giggling at his growl. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged slightly.

“Say it. I mean it, or you’re gonna be sorry.”

She rolled her eyes and gave him a look that told him exactly how silly she thought he was for making withholding even more delicious to her. He shook his head and poked his fingers into her waist, tickling in his own unique way, both playful and painful.

“Stop! Stop it!” she laughed helplessly, the dirty belly laugh her mother used to scold her about because a lady should always sound like she’s in control. He did, eventually, once he had stopped laughing at her. The look he gave her was prompting, eyebrows raised in expectation. She couldn’t resist.

“You are the rudest anonymous stranger I have ever met!” she announced, really clutching her pearls now. “I think you’re just as despicable as that nameless-“ She shrieked as he pinched her behind the knees, his head turned away from her face as his fingers crept up from her knees and began prodding and grazing over her thighs. “Elvis! Elvis, stop, I give! I give!” He paused, kneeling over her, and raised an eyebrow as he glanced back to her face.

It was a compulsion, she realised, some deep, unstoppable drive inside of him to make sure that everyone know who he was, his name. It made him first record a song when he was too scared to sing with the lights on, it shoved him on stage when his legs were so shaky that they fluttered like wings, and it made him still climb onto a different stage every night and sing the same songs he had been singing for years even when he was sick of them. Being recognised and seen was a need, something hungry and fierce inside of him that he had no control over. She wondered if he understood that himself.

“I- I remember now,” she said in her wide-eyed stranger voice. “Elvis Presley, that’s his name.” She switched back to her own voice to finish. “That’s your name, Elvis Presley.”

She was rewarded with a violent, fast kiss and then he gathered her up from the sofa so that he could lay down on it with a grunt before bringing her back down on top of him, smoothing the top of her hair under his chin.

“You’re a goddamn pain in the ass making me be all energetic just after I ate,” he muttered into the top of her head. She reached up to move his pendant from under her cheek and smooth the lapel of his pyjama top so that it didn’t obstruct her view of the television, before nuzzling against his warm chest. She could hear his heart thumping fast and felt a little guilty, rubbing his side soothingly.

The Russians were still looking for the microfilm and were now involved in a car chase through the streets of… It looked like it might be San Francisco, but Chancy wasn’t sure since she had only been there once and just remembered fog and hills.

“Remind me never to get into a car chase in San Francisco,” she murmured. “All those hills have gotta be tough on your suspension.”

“Since you always drive like you’re in a car chase it’s probably best just not to drive in San Francisco, period.”

“Hey!” she complained. “You can talk, Mister ‘I don’t believe in stop lights or speed limits’. And who was it that taught me how to drive in the first place, huh?”

“Biggest mistake of my life.”

Chancy thought about retorting or pretending to be offended, whipping up another role play/game, but the truth was that she was comfortable and warm and she could tell from the way his heartbeat had slowed and steadied that Elvis was relaxed too. She thought she could get used to this easy, calm domesticity even as she knew that she would never get the chance.

“Got no comeback, honey?” he murmured, drumming his fingertips on her waist. “You falling asleep on me?”

“I could,” she admitted. “This is very comfy and cosy.”

“Well, shit, can’t be having that. Sit up for me, honey.” She bit back a sigh and wriggled down a little so that she could rise up on her knees. “No, no, sit up on me, baby.” He gave her a wicked smile, raising his eyebrow in a way that got the women screaming and crying when he was on stage. His hands gripped her hips, before sliding round to her ass to manoeuvre her back up into place. She used his shoulders to push up so that she was straddling his hips. 

“Is this what you wanted?” she asked, hearing herself sound more bewildered than enticing.

“Mhmm,” he murmured in a low voice, spreading his hands on her thighs on either side of him. “Oh hey, your underwear matches the shirt I picked!” She yanked on the bottom of the pyjama jacket as he gave a chuckle. “Too late, I already saw.” His hand slipped underneath the hem of the jacket, creeping towards the leg of the panties. “Did you wear these for me? You know that good girls don’t wear black down there, don’t ya?”

“Yes, they do. I do.”

“Well, I like white,” he said firmly. “But you look good in anything, baby. I swear, Cha-Cha, I-“ He shook his head and winced. “I need to think of a way to say this that ain’t corny…”

He tilted his head side to side, squinting at the ceiling and pouting like a little kid trying to remember their multiplication tables. It shouldn’t have been titillating, Chancy had seen her four-year-old niece do the same thing when she was trying to think up a lie for why one of the dogs was wrapped up in toilet paper, but somehow he made it erotic and endearing at the same time.

“What the hell, I’m just gonna be corny. You were a pretty little girl, honey, but you have just got more beautiful as you got older. No, you have. Hey now!” He pulled her hands away from her face, his fingers tapping a staccato into her palms. “I’m being a corny ass sumbitch right now, but it’s the truth, you know. I’m just telling it the way I see it. You are breath-takin’. And sexy too, which you would find out if you sat down instead of hovering over me like a little bird.”

It was too much, the words, the way that he was talking, him but not him. The Elvis she knew could be cheeky, could be sweet, could definitely make a girl blush and heat up, but all at once was too confusing and intense. Even his voice, his accent, wasn’t really him. It was stage Elvis, movie Elvis, smooth the edges and mute the twang Elvis. She was compelled to get up, almost catching her foot on his leg as she scrambled off him and the sofa.

“Sorry,” she gasped, trying to smile and reassure him that she hadn’t lost her mind. From the confused look on his face she wasn’t sure that she succeeded.

“I told you it was corny. Didn’t think it’d make you run away though.” He rolled onto his side, propping up his head with his hand. “Why’re you acting so bashful? I know guys have called you beautiful before, too many guys probably… I don’t wanna think about that.”

“None of them have been The Elvis Presley though.” She used the air quotes, then wondered if she had been too sharp. She could tell by the way his eyes narrowed that he caught her tone, but didn’t quite understand it.

“Honey, it’s just me,” he said, disconcerted enough that it actually did sound like him again.

“Is it?”

“I don’t think I get this game,” he admitted with a small frown.

“Me neither,” she relented, walking back to the sofa. “I’m just being silly.”

He sat up to allow her space to sit beside him and she sensed that he had pulled back because her reaction to his compliment had unsettled him. She thought about all the people who had his pictures on their walls, who daydreamed about being in her position, and wondered if they would believe her if she ever got to tell them about how insecure he was, their dream man, their superstar boyfriend. One sign of ambivalence and he would curl up into his shell. Outright indifference could crush him.

As he intently watched the final shootout of the movie, she tucked her legs up beneath her on the sofa to give herself a little more height and leant into him. His arm immediately wrapped around her waist, but he stayed focussed on the television. She considered the side of his face: the length of his eyelashes and the almost obscene plumpness of his lips. She brushed her finger against his sideburn, smoothing the hair in all the same direction, and she watched the line at the corner of his mouth twitch as he fought against smiling. When this tactic didn’t work, she used her first knuckle to graze slowly down his cheek and round his jaw, enjoying the way that the curves of his cheekbones deepened as he tightened his lips.

Finally, she played her last card, she stuck her finger into her mouth and sucked on it to make it nice and wet and then poked it into his ear. She leapt up as he reacted and scrambled over the back of the sofa before he had gotten to his feet.

“You sneaky little thing!” he cried, his words tripping over his laughter. “Get your ass back here now for your punishment!”

“That was payback!” she insisted, shaking her head. “For what you did to me earlier!”

“Oh, I’m gonna do so much worse now,” he promised, his eyes glittering. Her heart raced as she darted around the sofa, responding to his movements. “You’re only making it worse for yourself!”

“You’re not exactly encouraging me to surrender,” she pointed out, shrieking as he finally clambered over the sofa. She panicked, whirling around before racing into the bedroom.

“Christ, you’re fast!” he marvelled, a little out of breath but trying to hide it as he came to the bedroom doorway.

“I’m motivated,” she pointed out.

“Welp, I’m removing that motivation.” He flopped down onto the bed and pillowed his head on his arms. “Game’s over. Come and sit with me, baby.”

“Does… this mean I win?” Chancy asked slowly since that had never happened before.

“You know I can’t say that. I won’t say that.”

Elvis Presley didn’t lose. Mostly because of his many skills and talents and his relentless competitive spirit, but also because the temper tantrums and sulking afterwards were not worth it.

“So, a draw then?”

“Shit, it’s not like there’s a trophy. Get over here!”

“Well, I’m calling it a draw,” she said to herself, slowly crossing the room to the bed. She made it as far as putting her knee onto the mattress before he was up and wrestling her beneath him. She was completely unsurprised, but she still shrieked and fought, pretending that she was, because it was what he expected and wanted.

“Draw, my ass!” he crowed, tickling and licking everything he could reach.

“I surrender! You win!” she pleaded. He didn’t listen at first, but finally quietened down, breathless from his exertions.

Looking up at him straddling her, she didn’t have the most flattering view. Everything was bigger, his fuller face had a double chin as he stared down at her and his round belly heaved as he panted. She could see that the belt of his robe was barely long enough to tie once it had wrapped around his middle. She felt guilty even noticing, because she knew he would be embarrassed, no doubt was embarrassed by his weight. But it also made him human, vulnerable and fallible in a way that was reassuring for her. Perfection was beautiful and admirable, but it wasn’t loveable.

“You have made a grave mistake!” she warned him. “You have just revealed how deceitful you are. Now I’ll never trust you again!” 

“Aw, no, say it ain’t so!” he teased, pouting and drawing up his eyebrows so sweetly that she would have forgiven him if she had really been mad.

“You are a cheat! A rotten cheat.”

Elvis had evidently had enough of the playing because he leant down and caught up her mouth with his own, swallowing her air before she could say any more. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders even as he was rearranging them both so that he was laying on the bed with her beside him. She had been distracted by his weight and had failed to notice something else about him that had become larger, but she felt it now as he pushed his groin against her hip, moaning a little into the kiss.

“Okay, I forgive you,” she mumbled into his mouth, moving her hands to his back. He huffed a laugh, mocking the length of time she could hold a grudge, but she didn’t respond. At least not verbally.

At first their kisses were sweet and unhurried. Elvis kept pausing and drawing back to just look at her before returning to her lips. She wondered if he was checking that she was still okay, or if he couldn’t believe what was happening between them, or if he just couldn’t remember who he was kissing.

“This should feel strange, shouldn’t it?” he said in a soft voice, squinting slightly at her like she had the answers he sought. “It should at least feel like we haven’t done this in years?”

“What does it feel like?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Nice…” He rolled his eyes self-deprecatingly. “Yeah, that’s real sexy, Elvis, just keep talking, son. No, it feels… right. You know what I mean?” He barely gave her a second to respond, before he was shaking his head and smiling diffidently. “You have no idea what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, do you.”

“No, no, I do!” She rushed to reassure him, because the need that emanated from him was overwhelming and, like most other women he encountered, she was helpless against it. It didn’t matter that she knew he had learnt to harness and weaponize that distilled little boy quality, that desperate need to be adored and loved, she was just as susceptible to it even knowing she was being played.

Was he right? Should it have felt strange to be doing this again? She thought perhaps that she had always known this would happen. It had always lingered as a possibility in some liminal pocket during moments they spent together. There had been times when she felt sure he might try to kiss her and times when all she wanted to do was press her lips against his and surrender to the urge once and for all. It was exhausting to keep fighting the impulse and after so many years it made sense they were too weary to continue. 

As she was musing on this exhaustion, her body was flooding with electricity and energy. She could feel her skin buzzing and her muscles stretching and tensing with anticipation.

Elvis’s hand had slid progressively further down from her waist to her hip and now to the top of her thigh. With a low hum, he drew up her leg and slid closer to her, pushing himself against her groin. She responded with a pleased smile, tucking her legs around him to hold him in place. She could feel his hard length kneading against her folds, pressing them into the button of nerves that was already tingling.

They had slipped through a doorway in time, which was no longer measured in minutes, but breaths and the tingling and sensitivity of their skin and lips. Chancy’s hands slid round to his front and she toyed with the first button on his pyjama shirt, not consciously unfastening it but filled with the need to get her hands on his skin.

Without a word, Elvis took her hands and moved them to his shoulders, nuzzling into her neck so that his chest was pressed tightly against her.

It felt like they were teenyboppers on their first date and she was the pushy quarterback trying to get his sweet virginal girlfriend to agree to second base. Elvis kissed her with delicious enthusiasm and seemed to have no compunction about rolling his hips and pressing his erection into her, but the minute she tried to take the next step, he pulled back.

“Do you want to stop?” she asked finally, out of frustration and confusion.

“Hell no,” he murmured, nibbling on her neck. He did stop though suddenly. “Do you wanna stop?”

She shook her head and relinquished control to him. If he wanted to play it PG, she was confused but accepting. It was sweetly nostalgic in a way, reminding her of when they would park after going to the movies back when they dated. Back then, they would take it in turns to play the responsible one to make sure nothing went too far.

Gradually Elvis’s writhing became more focussed and intent, his hands grabbed hold of her ass and pulled her in against him. Flutters began between her legs as she listened to his grunts and panting and felt the urgency building in him. She could feel him speaking or singing, vibrations tingling through his chest and into hers, but so quietly that she couldn’t make out the words.

Finally, he groaned and shuddered, pulling her in so tightly that her bones creaked. There was a long pause before he gave a quiet, self-conscious laugh.

“Ah… shit. Been a long while since that happened.”

Chancy glanced down at his pants and carefully schooled her face. Elvis could be an iceberg, showing only a glimpse of what was beneath the surface. That was how people were often caught off-guard when he erupted, having not appreciated what he was experiencing beforehand. The fact that he seemed a little embarrassed might mean just that, or it could mean he was mortified and trying to hide it.

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” she said with a small smile and a shrug.

In answer, he cupped her cheeks and gave her a long kiss.

“You’re perfect,” he informed her intensely. She felt goosebumps break out across her skin as a shiver went down her spine. He spoke with such conviction and authority like he was making it so even as he spoke. It made her feel indestructible.

When he went into the bathroom to get changed, she played his words over and pictured the fire that glowed in his dark blue eyes as he spoke, trying to understand how he did it, the secret to his magic. Was it power imbued by others, the cumulative effect of thousands of people believing in him? Or was it something intrinsic, a supernatural ability that he had been born with?

Over the years, she had swung between the two explanations over and over. There had always been something, even back when he was a shy teenager cursed with acne and a stammer that had not yet been declared charming. The intensity had always been there, his mama had it too, but no one else had the ability to speak things into being the way that Elvis did. No one could entrance and bewitch like him.

“What?” He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, a strange, shy smile on his face as he looked at her and whatever odd expression she was wearing. She shook her head and lowered her eyes, embarrassed to be caught being dreamy. Grandma was always urging her to stop living in her head and start trying it out in the world instead. Chancy knew that she was right, but old habits were hard to break.

“Nothing.”

“Come get ready for bed then, darlin’.”

“Uh… all my things are next door.” She watched him sigh with frustration and physically shrug it off.

“Let’s go then.” He took her hand and they went to the door. Elvis peered out first, checking that the coast was clear, presumably for Chancy’s sake since everyone and their neighbour in the group had seen him in pyjamas and a robe countless times.

There was a security guard posted near the elevator at the far end of the corridor and he turned as he caught a glimpse of them from the corner of his eye. Elvis raised his hand in greeting, the other hand pushing Chancy behind him like she was naked. Such an peculiarly old-fashioned attitude to have for someone who had regularly held naked pool parties in his Hollywood home throughout the past decade.

“Huh, you a bit of a slob, Cha-Cha?” he remarked when they walked into her room, as though this was a clue in a mystery he was solving. “You didn’t used to be.”

“I’m not usually,” she returned quickly, cheeks a little pink. It was a small lie.

She hurried across and shoved some clothes back into the suitcase laying open on the floor, scooping up some underwear on the way. She could feel his amusement even before she turned and saw the smile drawing out his cheekbones.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” she muttered.

“Mmhmm.” She smacked him with the back of her hand as she moved across to the bathroom.

“Not all of us have maids and valets and cleaners following our every move you know.”

“Hey, I’m just enjoying how shook up you are about me finding out your messy, messy secret.” He had followed her to the bathroom door and leant against the frame now, showing no signs of feeling inclined to give her privacy.

“Well, make yourself at home.” She flapped her hand. “I won’t be a minute.”

“I’m fine right here, darlin’.” She frowned at his reflection, but he seemed to be serious.

Feeling self-conscious, she picked up her toothbrush and squeezed out the toothpaste. It was the first time she had ever been so aware of each movement required to brush her teeth. She was suddenly mindful of the noise of the bristles against her teeth, the goofy way she looked with toothpaste foaming at the corners of her mouth, and she was so horrified of the idea of spitting it out that she considered swallowing it instead.

For his part, Elvis behaved like it was perfectly natural to stand and observe someone brushing their teeth. After he fixed his hair and straightened the lapels of his robe in the mirror, he hummed to himself as he fidgeted behind her, picking up her hairbrush and examining it before putting it down. Her perfume bottles clinked as he fiddled with them, eyes narrowing in a slight squint as he read the labels and then picked up each one in turn to sniff them. By the time he was rifling through her make-up bag, she had almost let him fade into the background, the way she did when her niece Faye was pottering about. It was the same energy, she decided, the childlike need to investigate unfamiliar surroundings, much more socially accepted in a four-year-old than a grown man. She washed her face and brushed her hair through, then turned to him, slightly exasperated.

“I need to get changed, honey. Can I have a little privacy?”

“Uh uh, don’t get changed,” he murmured, shaking his head as he twisted her lipstick back down and replaced the lid. “You look perfect the way you are.”

“Okay, well, I’d like to use the bathroom then, please.” She put her hands on his chest and gave him a gentle push.

“Don’t take too long,” he returned sharply, sounding like someone used to bossing around everyone around him. “Or I’m gonna fall asleep out here.”

As soon as she got the door shut, she rushed back to the sink to give herself a hurried sponge bath. She reapplied her perfume and considered putting some make-up back on before telling herself that she was stupid and that she better get back out into the room or she would find Elvis rifling through her suitcase.

Rushing into the room, she glanced round and saw him sitting on her bed, leaning sideways to rest his head on her pillows. At first she thought he was fooling around, thinking back to what he had said when she closed the door on him.

“I wasn’t that long!” she commented, rolling her eyes. When he didn’t respond, she stepped closer and poked him in the shoulder to let him know that the joke was over. It was when he started and squinted up at her with bleary eyes that she realised it was real.

“Oh honey!” Instinctively, she reached for his face to soothe his lost, groggy expression. “You shouldn’t have waited on me if you were this tired!”

“Wanna be with you,” he mumbled, gripping her forearms. He shook his head like he could shake himself awake, but it only dislodged her hands, making him lurch as he refused to release her arms. “Where’re you goin’?”

It didn’t make any sense, she had only been in the bathroom for ten minutes at most and he had been perfectly fine when she had closed the door. It was pills obviously, but she had never seen them take him so quickly and completely. That was new.

“C’mon, sweetheart, let’s go back to your room.”

“Stay, Cha-Cha,” he pleaded in a soft, slurred voice. ”Please stay with me.” Her heart flip flopped and she couldn’t answer right away, just kept on trying to pull him up. He finally seemed to grasp what she was trying to do and helped her out, stumbling onto his feet as she used her body to buffer him while still trying to break his grip on her arms.

“I’m staying,” she promised loudly. “Baby, I’m staying, but we need to go to your room.”

He didn’t remain on his feet long, almost pulling her over as he dropped back down heavily onto the bed. She looked at him, sitting at least, but with his head hanging as he drifted back off, and then at the hotel room door. She knew he would prefer to be in his own bed and could only imagine the chaos that would ensue when someone knocked on his door and found him missing at some point.

Using a manoeuvre that he had once taught her, she clasped her hands together and yanked them down and over, breaking his grip on her and rousing him again.

“Wait!” he snapped, like they were in the middle of an argument. She hurried to the door and threw it open, finding Sonny sitting outside Elvis’s room. She had never been so glad to see him.

“I need help!” she called.

He jumped up, shooting an alarmed look at Elvis’s door where he had presumably thought she was with him. The shutters dropped on his face when he came to her threshold and saw Elvis on the bed. Chancy could almost hear the metallic clang as he slipped into his professional role as fixer, bodyguard, cleaner of messes. Her stomach cramped at how not shocked he seemed.

“He fell asleep while I was in the bathroom,” she explained. “We need to get him to his bed.”  

“All right. C’mon then, Boss, let’s get you up.” He stooped and hooked Elvis’s arm around his broad shoulders, grabbing his waist with his other arm. Chancy rushed to Elvis’s other side and gripped his other arm, pulling with all her might.

Together, they got him to his feet and Chancy felt him wake again, fighting them a little as he tried to pull his arms away.

“Settle down,” Sonny soothed in a gentle, for him, voice. “Just putting you to bed, man.”

“Sonny? s’goin’ on? Where’s Cha-Cha?” He turned his head and gave a little absent-minded laugh. “There’s Cha-Cha!”

Having tried to keep Elvis upright by herself, Chancy could fully appreciate how strong Sonny was as they made their way out of her room. She paused to lock her door and Elvis’s arm almost throttled her as he tightened his grip to avoid losing her and Sonny didn’t know to pause.

“Ain’t she pretty?” Elvis mumbled, dragging her back to him and burying his nose into her hair. “Ain’t she pretty, Sonny?”

“Sure thing, Boss,” Sonny grunted, nodding at Chancy to open the door to Elvis’s room.

“You’re so pretty, honey.”

“Thank you,” she replied quietly, patting his back, and wishing he would fall asleep again. Who knew what he would say in this state and she wanted to be able to look both him and Sonny in the eye again after that night.

Finally, they made it to the bed and Sonny disentangled himself slowly, letting Elvis drop gently onto the mattress.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked, meeting Chancy’s eye. She nodded and thanked him. “I’m right outside if you need anything.” She watched him close the bedroom door behind him and then turned back to the man trying and somehow failing to climb beneath the covers.

“Baby, you’re kneeling on… Oh lord, we are a real mess right now!” she sighed.

Elvis giggled like a kid and dropped onto his back, pulling at the bedclothes with his heels as he lifted his hips and finally succeeding at freeing them.

“Cha-Cha!” He made the grabby hands gesture, beckoning her to him. She sighed again and climbed onto the bed, letting him draw her in.

“We made it!” she mused in disbelief, snuggling up to him. She waited for him to drift off again, but he seemed to have gained a second wind and was more interested in kissing, stroking and patting her. Then he said he was thirsty and she fetched him a drink of water. Then he said he was hungry. Again, he reminded her of Faye, fighting sleep and trying to stay up late with the grown-ups, coming up with every excuse possible to avoid going to bed.

“Look, sweetheart,” she began, her tone exactly the same as when she was talking to the four-year-old, “it’s not time to eat now. It’s time to sleep. But if you go straight to sleep, it’ll be breakfast when you wake up, okay?”

He stared at her, his intense expression not giving anything away. She wondered if he was going to snap at her for talking to him like a child, for treating him like a child essentially, and held her breath.

“Okay, Mommy,” he sighed eventually, his voice soft and babyish. “I’ll go to sleep if you give me a kiss.” She dutifully pressed her lips to his pout and smiled as he stroked his fingers down the side of her face. “Stay, okay? Stay until I wake up.”

“I’ll stay,” she assured him.

“Promise me now.”

“I promise. I’ll stay.”

Finally, eventually, his eyelids began to droop and his breathing deepened.

After what felt like hours, still wide awake from her exertions, she decided to go back to her room to fetch a book to read, thinking it would help her relax and fall asleep. She got as far as turning away from Elvis before the pyjama top she was wearing stretched taut and went tight around her neck. Throwing back the blankets, she found that he had a handful of the shirt squeezed tightly in his fist, evidently not trusting that she would keep her promise.

What would it be like to be so fearful of being alone? He always seemed to her to be so strong, such a force, and it was difficult to reconcile that with this overwhelming need for companionship. How strong could someone really be if they couldn’t face spending any time in a room alone? She was drifting off finally, contemplating this, when Elvis jerked, his arms and legs flailing, and he came to in a roar of garbled fragments of words and sounds. She was clutching her leg where he had got a good kick in, finally able to roll out of the danger zone now that he had released her top.

“Are they safe?” he said hurriedly, his voice cracked and thick. “Why won’t anyone tell me?”

“Elvis,” she said softly, giving her shin a final pained rub, “it was a dream, honey. Everyone is safe.”

“I heard her crying,” he insisted. “She’s calling for me.”

“Who was crying, sweetie?”

“My baby,” he snapped. “I’m her daddy. I gotta protect her. I gotta- I gotta… It’s my fault.” She tried to stroke his hair, his face, anything to soothe him, but he batted away her hands.

“Your baby is safe,” she promised. “She’s fast asleep in her bed. She knows her daddy keeps her safe.”

She was looking into his eyes and yet not. It was eerie, like Elvis was not behind them at all and his body was being animated and controlled by someone else who didn’t know how he moved, or how animated his face usually was, how he manipulated emotions with just a tiny lift of a playful eyebrow. 

“He’s gonna hurt ‘em, he’ll kill us all,” he insisted, sending a chill down her spine.

“Who?!”

“E- Elvis… Elvis.” Chancy had to swallow down the bile that had risen up into her throat as he whispered his own name, sounding so scared. 

“Okay, that’s enough now,” she snapped, wiping away beads of cold sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “That is enough! Wake up now, Elvis. Wake! Up!” She shoved at his shoulder, jolting the whole of his body on the mattress. She didn’t care if it startled him or if he lashed out and hit her (again). She needed him to be awake and not terrifying.

“What?! What are you doin’? Stop! What’s goin’ on?”

“Are you awake?” she demanded, kneeling over him.

“What?” He rubbed at his bloodshot eyes and let his hand slide down his face. “You-You woke me up, ‘course I’m fuckin’ awake!”

“You were having a bad dream. A really bad one.”

“Shit- I- I need to sleep, Chancy, you know I gotta be strong to do my job. You can’t- You can’t mess with me like this!”

“I’m sorry, you were scaring me.” He muttered something under his breath, but relented, pulling her down by her arm and wrapping his arms around her. She half hoped he wouldn’t be able to go back to the sleep, but, again, his breathing deepened and she felt his body relax into the mattress. She lay poised in preparation for something creepy.

At one point, he gave a soft murmur and she jolted like someone had fired a starting pistol, but there were no more nightmares that night. At least not sleeping ones. Thank you to @thatbanditqueen for listening to me ramble and @be-my-ally and @ellie-24 for getting me in the mood with their lovely big daddy elvis fics

[sequinsmile-x]

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Forty Seven

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends,

So sorry that it's been a couple of weeks since I updated this <3 I promise I'll go back to updating this once a week.

As of this chapter we are officially in Season 6 of CM, and there will be some recognisable plot lines from that season but set in this universe, with of course the notable absence of Ian Doyle...that doesn't mean there won't be drama though ;)

Please let me know what you think of this chapter, your feedback means the world <3

-x-

Words: 3.4k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily blows out a breath, her cheeks briefly puffing out with it, as she examines her hair closely in the mirror. It was shorter than it had been in years, the lengths of it scraping at her shoulders whenever she turned her head, short, almost sharp looking, layers framing her face and leading up to her bangs. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about it, no matter how many times Aaron assured her she looked beautiful, but her hairstylist had told her it was the best way of covering up the fact she was starting to lose hair. 

Postpartum hair loss, as it turned out, was no joke. 

She hears a familiar cooing noise from behind her and she turns to look at Lily, unable to stop herself from chuckling at the sight of her daughter and the wide, gummy, smile she had on her face the moment Emily looks at her. 

Emily felt a strange sense of pride that she was the only one Lily had smiled at so far, the infant always seemingly overjoyed when her mother was in the room, although she’d never admit that to her husband who seemed a little disappointed he hadn’t been the reason Lily had smiled yet. 

“I don’t know what you’re smiling at sweet girl, it’s all your fault Mommy had to have a haircut,” she says as she walks over and lifts Lily out of her bouncer chair. She stands up straight and secures her baby in her arms, and it’s only when she’s walking out of the room that she realises she’d been able to do so without it hurting at all, without any residual ache from her c-section scar. “You’re totally worth it though.” 

She checks herself in the mirror one more time and, despite the haircut she hadn’t quite got used to yet, she feels more confident than she had in months. She felt more at home in her new body, more used to the changes it had gone through. She knew it was still early days, that she was still only two months post-partum, but she felt like she was turning a corner with everything. 

The last step, the one thing she desperately wanted to do, was to have sex with her husband. 

She’d only been signed off for strenuous activity for a couple of weeks but they still hadn’t gone any further than the soft kisses that had become part of their daily lives. She knows Aaron is trying to take her lead, that he doesn’t want to make her feel pressured into anything, but she missed him. 

She checks the time and realises Aaron and the team will be home soon. They’d been on a case in Atlantic City for a few days and he’d sent her a text to say they were on the way home. 

She looks down at Lily, smiling when the baby looks up at her and smiles, something that Emily knows will never lose its shine. 

“Shall we go to the office and see Daddy and all your friends?” She asks, kissing Lily’s forehead before she walks towards the front door, “They’ll be excited to see you after a few days in Atlantic City. I took Daddy there for a weekend away once,” she says, placing Lily into her car seat, “You’re too little to know about all of that now but there was a lot of sinning and winning,” she smiles as she strokes the tip of Lily’s nose, eliciting a wide smile, “But don’t tell Daddy I told you that, it will be our little secret.” 

She gets herself ready to leave the house and grabs the diaper bag, still not quite used to just how much stuff was needed to go anywhere with a tiny baby. She secures the car seat on its base and double-checks that Lily is strapped in properly before she closes the door and gets in the driver's seat. The moment she starts the engine Lily starts to cry and Emily sighs sadly. 

“I know baby,” she says as she starts to drive away, “The car is so mean.” Lily had hated the car from the very start, something Emily had been assured was normal and that she’d get used to it, but it didn’t make hearing her baby cry any easier. Especially when she didn’t want to leak milk through her clothes, “How about I play your music for you?” She switches on the car’s audio system and shakes her head, a wry smile on her face, when The White Album starts to play and Lily immediately stops crying, “A Daddy’s girl already.” 

___

The moment she walks onto the BAU’s floor Penelope is on her, an excited smile on her face as she takes Lily’s car seat from her and carries it the rest of the way to Derek’s desk where she puts it down.

“Peaches,” she exclaims as she looks at Emily, before she lifts Lily from the car seat, “Love the new hair,” she turns her attention back to the baby, “And look at you Miss Lily you’ve gotten so big.” 

Emily chuckles and raises her eyebrow at her friend, watching as Dave, Spencer and Derek all stand behind her to look at Lily as Penelope holds her against her shoulder, “Thanks, Pen. What are you doing here anyway instead of in your office? Did you sense I was nearby with the littlest Hotchner?” 

Penelope narrows her eyes at Derek when he laughs before she turns her attention back to Emily, “As much as I would love to say I have cute radar for this little one,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down Lily’s back, “I’m actually here for the gossip.” 

Emily watches as her friend tilts her head towards Aaron’s office and she follows everyone’s gaze. The door was closed as were the blinds and she furrows her brows, “Is Aaron in there?” 

Dave nods as he sits on the edge of Derek’s desk, “Along with Strauss and JJ, they went in there the moment we got back.” 

“They were holed up in there before we went on the case too,” Derek says, and Emily frowns, wondering why Aaron hadn’t mentioned it to her, a sense of foreboding making her stomach churn. He only ever held stuff back from her when he felt like he had to protect her, something that irritated her no matter how well intentioned it was. 

“They were? Why?” 

Derek shrugs before taking Lily from Penelope, claiming it was his turn as he held the baby, “No idea, we couldn’t get a straight answer from them.” 

Lily cries, shifting unhappily in Derek’s arms who immediately looks panicked, and Emily takes a step forward only for Dave to offer his hands to Derek who hands the baby over.

“Cosa c'è che non va, piccolo,” Dave says as he paces slightly, smirking at Derek when she stops crying almost immediately. 

“She doesn’t speak Italian, Rossi,” Derek grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest, and Dave laughs. 

“She’s two months old, she doesn’t speak English either,” Dave replies, raising his eyebrow and Emily shakes her head at both of them.

“Babies don’t start to recognise language until they are 6-9 months old,” Spencer chips in, “But in the first few months they start to pick up on tone of voice and how to interpret emotions in voices.” 

“I don’t know why I read all those baby books when I could have just asked you, Spence,” Emily says, patting him on his shoulder. It felt good to be here, to be surrounded by the people she knew were her family, and for a brief moment, she almost regrets the fact she wouldn’t be part of the team moving forward. Grief for a part of her life she’d never get back takes up space in her chest for a few seconds before Lily starts to cry again, and it all fades away as she looks at her daughter. It was worth it. Every change and sacrifice she’d made in her life was worth it because she was going to make sure her daughter knew she came first no matter what. “I’ll take her.” 

She eases Lily back into her arms and feels the usual sense of relief she felt every time she held her little girl against her chest. She looks back up at her friends and feels her cheeks go red when she realises they are all staring at her. 

“What?” She asks, clearing her throat and raising her eyebrows, stopping herself from smiling when they all look away quickly as if they had been caught doing something wrong. 

“Motherhood looks good on you,” Penelope says, a wistful look in her eyes, “That’s all.”

“But don’t worry,” Derek adds, his hand on Emily’s shoulder as he squeezes it, “You still look incredibly intimidating even when you’re holding a baby.”

She chuckles proudly and opens her mouth to respond but is cut off as Aaron’s office door opens and Strauss walks out, stalking away without even looking at them. JJ and Aaron follow shortly after with solemn looks on both their faces.

As soon as Aaron’s eyes meet Emily’s she feels the earlier uneasy feeling in her stomach take root, immediately blooming, the flowers spreading to her chest and clogging her lungs.

___

The journey home is a silent one, Lily fast asleep in the back of the car, exhausted from being loved on by everyone. 

Emily keeps casting glances at her husband, her eyes fixed on how tightly he’s grasping the steering wheel. As they pull into their driveway she clears her throat, “Honey-”

“Not now, Em,” he says, cutting her off, the tone to his voice not one he often used with her. He sighs as he turns off the engine and turns to look at her, “Sorry, just…not yet,” he says and she nods. He smiles gratefully in return and looks into the back of the car, his smile going soft when he sees Lily’s still fast asleep in the reflection in the mirror they have attached to her car seat, “Want me to get her?” 

“Yeah,” she replies, unclipping her seatbelt, “I fed her before we left Quantico, so you can probably take her straight upstairs.”

She knows he liked doing that. That he treasured the moments he had with their daughter when he got back from a case, and she thinks he needs it now more than ever. He reaches over the centre console and presses a kiss to her lips, “I’ll take her up, meet you in the living room?” 

She nods, cupping his cheek and kissing him again before he pulls away, her thumb pressing into his dimple. She follows him into the house and watches as he takes Lily out of her car seat. It never failed to amaze her how gentle he was with Lily and Jack, how delicate he could be with hands that made a standard issue Glock look like a toy gun. 

He carries Lily over and holds her so Emily can drop a kiss on her forehead, “See you in a few hours when you’re hungry again, sweet girl,” she kisses her again and stands up straight to look at her husband, “Do you want some scotch?” 

He nods and secures Lily to his chest, “Thanks, sweetheart,” he turns and heads for the stairs, “Come on Lily-Pad.” 

She blows out a breath as she watches them go and heads to the kitchen to pour him a drink before carrying it through to the living room. She takes a sip of it before she puts the glass down and sinks into the couch.

JJ was leaving the BAU. 

It was a shock, something Emily hadn’t seen coming at all, and based on how the team had responded she hadn’t been the only one. It was another change for a group of people who didn’t always handle change well, and residual guilt for leaving the team herself was sparking in her blood. She knew things would be different, but JJ would still be in their lives, just not in the way they were used to. 

Emily felt bad for her friend for being forced to do a job she had tried to turn down, but in a way that felt a little selfish, most of her concern right now was for Aaron. She knew her husband, she knew he’d shoulder this. That he’d take the blame from the team as if he could have stopped this, as if he hadn’t tried. It was a burden to bear that he rarely shared, one she wanted to help him carry. 

“I tried to stop it.”

She turns at looks at him. He was standing a couple of feet away from the couch, his tie and suit jacket now gone and his hair ruffled from where he’d run his fingers through it, one of the tells he could never hide from her. 

“I know you did, honey,” she replies, offering her hand to him, linking their fingers together when he takes it as he sits down next to her. She squeezes his hand and rests her head on his shoulder, “I know.” 

He sighs and turns to kiss the top of her head. His chest felt tight, heavy and stuffed full of everything he knew he’d have to do now. The thought of navigating the team's reactions to this, to hiring a replacement not only for Emily but for JJ now too. Two gaps in his team that felt insurmountable, the women who had left them irreplaceable in every way. Emily lifts their hands to her lips and kisses his knuckles, smiling at him as their eyes meet. 

At least Emily was right here with him. He hadn’t lost her. She hadn’t gone anywhere, hadn’t left a literal hole in his life. She’d made a decision to protect their family, something he thinks made him fall even more in love with her. 

“Can we talk about something else?” He asks, wanting to think about anything other than this, “I just…I need a break.” 

She nods and squeezes his hand. She was no stranger to needing to digest things herself first, it was one of the many ways they were similar, and she could give him this. 

“Lily’s social security card arrived today,” she says as she leans into his side, feeling the tension seep from his shoulders as she changes the subject.

He smiles softly, “She’s a whole person recognised by the government now.” 

Emily rolls her eyes at him and fights a smirk, “I have no idea where we’re going to keep that until she actually needs it.” 

“I have Jack’s,” he says, running his hand up and down her arm. She looks at him curiously, and he smiles wryly, already knowing what she’s thinking, “Haley has the same…level of skill as you when it comes to keeping important documents safe so she asked me to look after it. I’ll make sure it’s kept with his.” 

She hums and keeps her eyes fixed on the profile of his face, giving herself a moment before she carries on, pulling the folded envelope out of her jeans pocket before she hands it to him.

“It’s not the only thing that arrived in the mail today.” 

He smiles curiously at her, the crease she loved in between his eyebrows making an appearance, and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling too hard. He unfolds the envelope and frowns as a credit card sized piece of plastic falls into his lap. He lifts it and turns it over to stare at it, his breath catching in his chest when he realises what it is. It was her social security card but it was new, the name on it standing out to him, forcing him to blink a few times to make sure he was reading it correctly.

Emily Elizabeth Hotchner. 

“I applied for it when I did Lily’s at the hospital,” she says, shrugging as if it didn’t mean everything as he looks up at her, “I wanted to surprise you.” 

He laughs, the sound catching in his chest, mixing in with the pride and love he felt growing there, “You…you changed your name?” 

She nods, biting her lower lip as she tries to hold back the emotions that take her by surprise, her eyes burning with unexpected tears, “Yeah,” she says, clearing her throat to stop her voice from shaking, “I changed my name.” 

It takes a second for him to react, but he hauls her into his lap, swallowing the squeal she lets out with the movement as he kisses her. She settles herself into his lap, her knees on either side of his hips and her arms around his neck. 

“I thought you didn’t want to,” he says, the hand not grasping the card in her hair, tangling in the shorter than usual locks. It wasn’t something that had ever bothered him. He didn’t need her to have the same name as him to know she loved him, and one of the things about her he’d always loved was her independence, her absolute surety of who she was. But seeing her name matched with his had lit something he didn’t know was there deep in his belly.

“I didn’t,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, “But when I was in the hospital and Lily and I had those bracelets on,” she smiles as she thinks about the hospital bracelets they’d kept, her emotional attachment to physical things seemingly only increasing the longer she was with him, as if physical imprints of their love could be found on them, “Our names were different and I wondered why I wanted to keep the name of two people who always put everything but me first instead of sharing the same name as my family. The same name as you,” she smiles, not judging herself for once as a tear slips past her lashline, “I’ll still be Prentiss at work I think, but I’ll be Hotchner everywhere it counts.” 

He stares at her, awe and love for the woman pressed up against him threatening to overwhelm him, “I love you.” 

It feels like a ridiculous thing to say, but it’s all he can manage, and he only hopes that she knows it’s so much more than three simple words, that he’d never be able to get across what she means to him. 

“I love you too,” she replies, stamping her lips against his before she takes the card from him and groans as she looks at it, “This means I need to get a new driver's license and I’ll end up with this haircut on it.” 

“You’re beautiful,” he says, wrapping his arms around her and tugging her impossibly closer, taking the opportunity to kiss her exposed collarbone, unimpeded by hair hanging down past it, “So beautiful.” 

She sighs and holds him close, encouraging him to continue to kiss her skin, her eyes drifting shut as she settles into the feeling of it. She rolls her hips against his and groans as he stops, pulling back from her, his eyes full of desire and concern in equal measure. She’d be offended if she didn’t know he’d stopped before they’d even really started because he was putting her first, making sure she was entirely comfortable before they carried on.

“Em-”

She smiles at him and crawls off his lap, standing up and offering him a hand, “Come on,” she says, pulling him close when he stands and kissing him, “We probably have time for a joint shower before she wakes up.” 

He puts his hands on her hips, a tension to his grip that she knows is stronger than the one he had on his self control, “Are you sure?” 

She nods and leans in to kiss him, swiping her tongue through his mouth before she pulls back suddenly, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” 

He doesn’t need any more convincing, his arms banding around her from behind as he guides them up the stairs, both of them muffling their laughter and groans as they barely disconnect from each other all the way to their bedroom. They successfully sneak past Lily’s bassinet and into the ensuite. 

The moment the door is closed Aaron is on her, his hands under her shirt and his lips against hers, and Emily loses herself in the feel of him. 

-x-

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