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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 1 month

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Beautiful Stranger

You Thought That You Were the Boss Tonight, but I Can Put Up One Good Fight (3)

Mommy!Wanda x Beefy!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend has invited you out to a party and has also told you to try and bring your new girlfriend.

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Alcohol and drug consumption, W eats R out, R uses a strap on W, W is called Mommy, R is called Daddy, Dom/sub dynamics

A/N: Here you go have a party scene

September 13, 2023

“Hey! Y/N!” You hear your best friend, Yelena, call as she catches up to you in the quad.

“Hey Lena, what’s up?” We were headed to the same class; English.

“There’s a party this weekend that Stark is throwing. Are you finally going to come or are you babysitting again?” She asks as the two of you walk and you huff, rolling your eyes.

“Not this weekend Lena, the boys are going to their dads and it’s a bit more than babysitting at this point. I told you that.” Lena laughs.

“I’m messing with you. If they won’t be there this weekend you should convince this hot milf you’re banging to join us.” You punch Lena giving her a dead arm as she hisses in pain. “Fuck jeez I can’t even joke with you about it.”

“Yes because you know I actually like her Lena. It’s not just about banging the hot mom next door.” You remind her and she smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“I know, so convince her so we can all meet her.” You roll your eyes.

“I doubt she’ll want to Lena. I’m sure her party days are over and done with, besides she can’t even drink.” You mention off handedly.

“Why not?”

“She’s pre-“ You stop yourself realizing you didn’t mention before that Wanda is currently pregnant and you’re banging her. Let's just add that to your list of kinks as Lena’s eyes widen. “Don’t. Lena. Fuck. Stop! Don’t look at me like that!” She has this shit eating smirk on her face.

“Look at you like what detka? Like you’re totally into older milf’s who are also pregnant and that’s why none of us could ever dream of getting you off? Did I forget anything?” You don’t dare tell Lena that she calls you Daddy when the two of you fuck.

“That’s it I’m gonna murder you and I’ll make it look like a goddamn accident Lena.” You say through gritted teeth.

“Fine, fine! I give! I won’t mention it, but if she says no at least let me meet her? I do actually care if she’s treating you right and not just using you.”

“She would never Lena...she’s incredibly sweet and kind and caring and loving and....” Lena starts making gagging noises. “Why do I even bother?” You start walking ahead of her. As she scrambles to catch back up and apologize, but, you decide to ignore her.

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“Hey Wands?” You ask as she makes dinner, the boys occupied in the living room by TV and video games.

“Yes pretty girl?” She flicks her eyes to you as she prepares vegetables for a roast she’s making.

“I got invited to a party on Friday,” Wanda nods, listening as you speak, but concentrating on the vegetables she’s cutting. “and my best friend Lena said since the boys are going to Vis’s this weekend that we should both go...I know it’s a college party and I’m sure you have no intent in partying with any of us, but my friends want to meet this mysterious woman I always talk about,” You feel your face heat up, “I told Lena you probably wouldn’t want to go, so if you don’t want to that’s fine and we can-“

“Is it important to you?” She cuts me off.

“I mean you meeting my friends is important, but it doesn’t have to be the party Lena said-“

“Then we can go to the party.” She cut you off again, but you're surprised by her answer so much that you can’t even be mad.

“You want to meet my friends?” You ask, tilting your head, eyebrows knit in confusion as Wanda stops what she’s doing, moving around the island to stand between your legs, resting her arms on your shoulders.

“Of course I do sweet girl. I want to be a part of your life. Every part of it and that includes meeting your friends even if it’s some college party and I haven’t partied since I was your age sweet girl.” She kisses you tenderly and the boys make noises at us.

“Go back to your show boys. Mommy’s busy.” Wanda gives them a look and the boys giggle. We had told them yesterday morning about us after what had happened the previous night. You laugh with the boys and eventually so does Wanda.

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Wanda wears a green off the shoulder frilled and layered dress that falls to her mid thigh. You look her over and before she can even say anything as she looks herself over in the mirror You come up behind her, wrapping your arms just under her belly which the dress hides nicely as she decided she didn’t want your friends other than Lena you told her you had accidentally let it slip. Wanda wasn’t mad thankfully.

“You look amazing beautiful girl.” You kiss her neck, her hair is flowing in waves over her shoulders and her make-up is impeccable.

“You think so?”

“I know so. I’m looking at you and it kind of makes me wanna skip the party and just fuck you all night with my cock.” You whisper in her ear.

“Mmmm don’t threaten me with a good time.” She turns around, kissing you gently, not wanting to smudge her lipstick. You see her look over your outfit, you have decided to wear black skinny jeans, a white crop top and a cropped leather jacket that just barely falls past your tits. Your hair is down and straightened and you've got your knee high lace-up boots that have these little chains hanging off them.

“Mmmm pretty girl Mommy wants you so bad.” She bites her lip as she looks you over. You pull her chin up to meet your eyes.

“Behave yourself and you can ride Daddy’s cock until you see stars when we get home.” She simple nods and smiles. “Good girl. Grab your purse and let’s go.”

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You hold Wanda’s hand as you get inside, music blaring people drinking and doing drugs. You're offered a joint by some girl. You think she’s in your language class or maybe networking either way you smile, taking a long drag as you feel Wanda’s hand squeeze yours, pulling your attention to her. You're reminded that you've never smoked in front of her. It’s something you tend not to do, but when it’s offered you usually take it.

You hand it back to the girl and give a quick thank you as you find your group of friends in Stark’s basement where there are pool tables that people are playing at including your friends except for Lena.

“Hey guys!” You speak cheerfully as you see the three of them playing a game of pool. Peter, MJ, and Kate all look at you and smile as you hug each of them asking Kate where Lena is, who is currently grabbing drinks and shots for all of you. You nod and introduce Wanda to them,

“Guys this is Wanda. We’ve been kind of seeing each other all summer. Well not exactly all summer, but we met at the beginning of summer when I moved in.” You start rambling and Wanda stops you by squeezing your hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you all. I know Y/N here has told me you guys always invited her out, but she’s been turning you down because of me and I feel bad about taking up all her time, but she’s been a big help, She wraps her arms around your arm and You can feel her belly and her tits against you. You wanna melt into a puddle from the feeling as the conversation goes on without you.

“Okay who is ready for some drinks!?” Yelena calls out and Wanda snaps her head at the voice.

“Yel?” Wanda asks and Lena is looking at Wanda wide eyed.

“Oh hey Wands so you’re the one taking up my best friend's time!” Yelena walks over hugging Wanda like they’re old friends.

“Am I...am I missing something?” You ask, dumbfounded.

“Well if you had ever said her name I would have known you were dating Tasha’s best friend! Wow! This is crazy!” You punch Yelena once again giving her a dead arm. “Ah! Stop doing that! It hurts!” Yelena hissed, shaking her arm trying to get feeling back as quickly as she could.

“Tasha as in your big sister Nat? Natty? Natty bear?” Kate asks listing off literally every nickname we’ve ever given to her older sister.

“Yes! That Tasha!” You say and huff.

“Pretty girl it’s okay. Everything is fine.” Wanda reassures me as You lean your forehead against her temple,

“I need a drink...” You whimper to Wanda.

“Go have one it’s okay if you drink. Just because I can’t doesn’t mean you need to stop yourself.” You smile and pull her in for a kiss. You go over to the table that Lena put the drinks down at noticing she still brought over six shots and six beers, well bottoms up. You take one shot after the other of the vodka Lena had brought the clear liquid burning and setting your stomach a blaze then popped the top on the beer bottle, using the table to take off the top as you start drinking it, looking back as Yelena and Wanda talk the others getting involved.

You smiled though it was a turn of events. You weren't expecting your girlfriend to be getting along with all of your friends just fine and it didn’t matter that she’s ten years older than us, or that she has kids, or that she’s pregnant. She’s just Wanda right now. You move back over, feeling the buzz start from drinking and smoking, wrapping myself around Wanda from behind; kissing her neck. The other four were playing pool, talking with us in between turns and eventually we played a round of cut throat so we could all get involved.

A few hours later you were floating in the clouds. All giggling from drinking. Wanda says the goodbyes for you two and how nice it was to meet everyone, taking your keys as the two of you approach the car, “I’m driving sweetie, go get in your passenger princess spot.” Wanda teases, making you giggle.

“Jokes on you beautiful I like being passenger princess.” You tell her. “I hate driving sometimes. This is so much better.” You get comfy in your seat, closing your eyes after you've buckled in. As she starts driving you two home, she puts her hand on your thigh as you connect your phone to Bluetooth, putting on, Dove Cameron’s album Alchemical: Volume 1, skipping to the song Sand.

“I love hearing you sing pretty girl.” Wanda says squeezing your thigh, keeping her eyes on the road. You had your eyes on her the whole time you sang and she knew it.

“I’m not a great singer.”

“But you sing with your heart. So it’s beautiful.” Wanda assures me, making me smile.

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By the time the two of you got home you were feeling better. Though you still took the water from Wanda that she grabbed from the fridge. You sat up on the counter while you drank it as Wanda grabbed something small to reheat from earlier in the week. You watched her practically dance around the kitchen, humming a tune from the music you had playing in the car. She was absolutely beautiful.

“Wands?” You call out. When she looks over at you, your arms are outstretched, hands reaching for her. She smiled walking over to you and settling between your legs. Her arms wrapped around your waist and your own wrapped around her shoulders.

“Is this what you need, sweet girl?” Wanda's voice is muffled against your chest. You give her a small ‘Mmm’ into her hair. “I love you being Daddy, but it's okay when you need to be all soft like this. I still love you like this.” You knew how needy you could be at times, especially when you'd been drinking. You kiss the top of her head and take a moment to just breathe her in and cherish the moment.

“I know. I just prefer it. I can be myself with you Wands and it's all I've ever given you.” She looks up at you with a smile, getting up on her tiptoes to kiss you.

“Good.” You smile into the kiss. You try to lick her lip, to keep going, but she stops you. “Ah. Food first then we can have our fun.” You subconsciously let out a whine in displeasure. Wanda smirks, whispering in your ear, “Behave and do as Mommy says sweet girl.” You felt your eyes roll back as your stomach flipped.

Wanda had such an effect on you, sober or not. Usually you were able to overpower her; take the situation and flip it, but it was obvious to you that she wanted to win at some point. So you listened to her, even letting her feed you. You knew it made her happy. The smile on her face was as wide as ever. You knew Wanda loved being a mom, loved taking care of those around her.

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“F-fuck…” You moaned out as Wanda's tongue buried it's way inside of you. She'd already had you cum once, but you were even more needy than either of you had anticipated. You never let others touch you, but Wanda made you feel like you were on fire. Your hand tangled in her hair, hips rocking against her face as you moaned out, “Fuck…cumming…ahhh…” You bit your lip, feeling her tongue lap inside of you as you came down from your high.

Wanda crawled back up, after cleaNing you with her tongue. She leaned down to kiss you, tasting yourself on her lips. A moan slipped past your lips before flipping the two of you over carefully.

“My turn to make you feel good Mommy.” You leaned back down, kissing her. “I promised you my cock didn't I?” You saw Wanda's eyes light up, she'd been waiting for it. As you got up to put the strap on you looked over her body. Letting your eyes rake over her form, admiring it as you crawled up between her legs. “You are so fucking beautiful. I swear no one could even come close to you.” You told her as you slowly slid inside of her. A quiet moan slipped out as you leaned over her. “Look at Daddy while she fucks you.” Wanda's eyes locked with yours as you started your thrusts.

Slow and steady at first listening to every little noise she made because of you. Watching her body move beneath you. Everything about it was beautiful, perfect. Nothing to you was better than this. Nothing was better than what you two had built over the summer. Nothing was better than the family you've found.

#ley speaks #ley writes #ley writes series #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximommy #mommy!wanda #beefy!fem!reader

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wardenparker · 23 days

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 12

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Pregnancy. labor, childbirth, health emergency, hospital stay, talk of living wills and things going wrong, traumatic birth, mentions of death/possibility of death, reassurance, emotional hurt/comfort. Summary: Months after going public with your relationship with your soulmate, you and Marcus get the phone call you've been waiting for: Sydney has gone into labor! Notes: The migraines and the pain aren't gone but the story continues! This week is a rollercoaster, my darlings. I hope you enjoy 🧡

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

The call came late on a Saturday night during the first full week of September. Busy getting ready to go out for a later-than-usual date, you had jumped straight up in the air when your phone started ringing. The words 'labor' and 'hospital' got you and Marcus moving instantly, and you were off to meet Juan and Sydney at Sibley Memorial Hospital faster than a heartbeat.

“Now, it’s gonna be awhile.” Marcus warns you, even as he speeds towards the hospital. “I might have to come back to get you some clothes.”

"As long as it doesn't take as long as Junie did to be born," you joke, trying to dispel your own tensions even as you fidget in your seat. "Mom was in labor for twenty-six hours. I think Syd will just reach in and pull the baby out before she waits that long."

“She’ll be yelling that she has a dinner menu to put out.” Marcus snorts, understanding how frustrated Juan has been when his wife refused to slow down until the very end.

"If she doesn't have her recipe notebook out within an hour of giving birth, I'll be astonished." She never slows down, your best friend, and you adore her despite it being worrying sometimes. At least you got her to agree to the more-than-generous New Parent Leave package the inn has adopted. They're both technically on your payroll so you know they'll be well taken care of.

“The new sous chef she hired to help the old one step into her shoes has worked out really well so far.” Marcus knows that talking about the inn will help you focus. Keep you from worrying yourself up into a state until you can lay your eyes on Sydney.

"She needed another set of hands anyway." Just because you know what he's doing doesn't mean you're not grateful, and you fidget in your seat before glancing down at your phone for the thousandth time. No new texts. You just have to remind yourself that that is a good thing. "Hopefully this new guy will work out and she'll keep him on long term."

“Yeah, it’s nearly a fully house every night in the restaurant.” Business in the inn might have taken a slight hit from the negative press, but the food was still bringing in the locals.

"Thank god for that." Over the last few months your bookings haven't been too stellar, but you've been making up for it with restaurant patrons and special event bookings. At least you had room enough to accommodate Marcus's parents when they came up in July. "I don't want to think about what would have happened if we'd lost restaurant sales along with bookings."

“I’m just happy that the ‘anonymous sources’ have tapered off lately.” The accusations are still out there but you and Marcus have been laying low for now.

“What I wouldn’t give for two seconds with our sniveling exes.” It’s obvious that it has been Sam and Vanessa feeding things to the gossip columnists, although technically all you have is your say-so. They’re being clever enough to make sure that there is no paper trail and nothing being said that marks them as the obvious source of the negative rumors. “Why do we have to be the better people?” You gripe with a pout. “We could just as easily say made up shit about them. For all we know, they were the ones having an affair and this is a whole situation of they doth protest too much.”

“I don’t think so.” Marcus would love for that to be the case. “That week of the state dinner, he was sick.” He reminds you. “I think Vanessa went over to his house and somehow discovered she’s his soulmate. She told me that she had just found out, not that she just met him.” He theorizes. “And now, they are twisting their own narrative, but I don’t understand why.”

“If they’re trying to discredit Mom through me, it’s not working.” Though your business may have taken a hit, your mother’s first term has been fairly impressive so far. She’s getting her legislation moving at a brisk clip and her focus on the economy is already strong. You sigh, though, pushing out the bad thoughts, and squeeze his hand over the gear shift. “They don’t get to ruin our goddaughter’s birth. That’s not in the cards.”

“Nope.” Marcus made sure to pack the gifts for mother and baby in the car while you were rushing around to get dressed. Both of you are excited. “Doesn’t matter, today is about Sydney and the baby.” He chuckles. “And poor Juan too. I know he’s a wreck right now.”

“He’s so excited and so nervous.” The clock on the dashboard reads ten minutes until midnight and you squeeze his hand again to relieve some of your own nerves. It’s not like you’re the one having a baby. There’s no reason to be nervous, but you are. For your best friend and your goddaughter and for Juan who is like a big brother to you.

“Yes he is.” Marcus tosses you a grin. “I know he’s supposed to be handing out cigars, but I managed to get my hands on a box of very nice ones. When the baby is born, I’m going to give them to him. To celebrate the important milestones with.”

“They’re the ones your dad smokes, aren’t they?” Beaming that grin right back at him, the conjured memory of the vanilla and spice scent of Matthew Pike’s favorite cigars is easy to conjure. “He’ll love that.”

“I hope so.” Marcus grins. “I can just imagine how proud he’s going to be. He’s going to be crying as he holds his child for the first time.”

“He’s going to be a leaky faucet by the time we get to the hospital,” you predict with an affection laugh. “They deserve this. They already love that little girl so much and they’re going to be amazing parents.”

“Yes they are.” He can’t help but be a little envious, although it’s not a sharp feeling because he knows it will happen for the two of you soon enough. He will be content with cuddling his new goddaughter.

There’s little traffic at this time of night, and before you know it you and Marcus are parking and heading inside to track down the room number that Juan texted to you. Sydney and Juan’s families will be alerted when the baby is born, but it was their wish to have you and Marcus in hand for the birth. You’ll be right there in the delivery room with Syd and Juan while Marcus keeps the families updated in a group chat. You’re co-captains of Team Moral Support and you’re excited for every second of it.

His hand is on your back as you stop in front of the door. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” He asks with a beaming smile.

“Nervous. Excited. Very ready.” You lean back to steal a kiss, warmed through by the comfort of having him by your side for this enormous step in the lives of your close friends. Your chosen family. “And…I can’t wait until it’s us.”

“Soon enough.” He promises. “Soon enough.” He pushed the door open and knocks with the back of his knuckles. “Knock, knock.”

“Oh thank god!” Comes the response from inside, and you’re laughing at the relief in Sydney’s voice when you and Marcus push inside. “The Godparent Brigade has arrived! Here to pump you up, handle your relatives, and fetch your sushi after the little peanut has arrived on the scene.”

“Get the sushi before anything else.” Sydney demands, rubbing her stomach and nearly salivating at the thought.

"I've already got your order in my phone, and Marcus will jet out to get it. You won't have to wait at all, honey." It doesn't surprise you in the least that Syd is thinking about one of her favorite foods, but you move over to her side in the bed as the two men hug and give your best friend a squeeze on her shoulder. "How are you doing? Do you want me to go strong arm a nurse for some ice chips?"

“Juan already has two cups of them, letting them melt down.” She grins at you and then winces when another contraction hits.

It takes everything you've got not to wince or cringe along with her, knowing that it won't do a single lick of good and won't help her feel any better. "How far apart are they?" You ask instead, rubbing her back in small, soothing circles.

“Twelve minutes, forty-seven seconds.” Juan tells you as he looks down at his watch and then back at his wife. “We are down from fifteen minutes.”

"Getting closer and closer!" Practically squeaking with excitement, you can see the same light in Juan's eyes despite the worry lines in his furrowed brow. He just wants everything to go well, and you can't blame him there.

Sydney huffs out a small laugh, knowing you are doing exactly what she had wanted you to. Cheerlead for her. “Did you happen to bring those hard candies?” She asks, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes!" Ready to dig into your purse immediately, you swirl around and grab your bag from where you had dropped it to one side when you came in the room. "I've got sour lemon and orange, and I've got the sweet strawberry ones. What are you feeling at the moment?"

“Sweet.” She practically moans the word and reaches out to you with grabby hands. “Don’t hold out on me now.”

"Here we go, babe." One of the candies is deposited in Syd's outstretched hands and a few more get tucked into the pockets of your cardigan to make sure you have one on hand for her at no more than a moment's notice. "Plenty more where that came from, I promise."

“You are the best.” She moans, popping the candy into her mouth and rolling her eyes in pleasure.

"Now how are you doing, Dad?" With Syd moaning over her small treat, you turn your attention to Juan.

“I’m hanging in there, but I think I forgot my bag.” He rolls his eyes and huffs. “Too busy making sure the car seat was secure.”

"Babe, you have a key to their place, right?" If not, you'll pull out your keys and send Marcus back to Alexandria with your spare house key instead. You would go yourself, but you vowed not to leave Sydney's side once you got to the hospital. The kind of vow that is definitely life or death and she will hold you to.

“Juan gave me one.” Marcus nods, and agrees with your silent plan. “I’ll run and get the bag. Pick up some coffee that’s better than the shit they serve here, yeah?”

"I have a feeling we're going to need it." Juan nods and claps Marcus on the shoulder gratefully.

"I'll call you if anything changes," you promise him, turning back to your own soulmate. "You're amazing, sweetheart. Thank you."

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reassures you, leaning in to kiss your lips before hugging Juan and bussing Sydney’s cheek. “Ask for the good drugs, mama.” He teases with a wink, wanting her to laugh.

"You bet your ass!" She groans, wincing more heavily with this contraction than she had with the one before. "Get back here fast, Marcus. Speed. Lots!"

“I’ll use my badge if I get pulled over!” He calls back as he rushes out of the room.

"He'll be back in no time." Realistically you know it will take quite a lot of time, in fact, but your job tonight is not to be realistic. It is to be positive and upbeat. To keep spirits high. "I think Malachi is going to win the betting pool." You grin and stand up by the head of the bed with Sydney, right there to hold her hand if she needs you. "He had Monday – tomorrow, technically – as the day, but I don't think anyone had Sunday."

“Juan…” Sydney smiles. “Take a nap, baby. I know you are exhausted. You were about to go to sleep when my labor started. Birdie is here, so get some sleep.”

He raises an eyebrow, knowing his wife is in pain, but also knowing that a short nap will ensure he is at his best to help her. "We'll take shifts," he compromises, eyeing you just as much as his wife. "So someone is always here holding your hand and timing your contractions. Short naps only. I don't want to miss anything."

“I promise I won’t push her out without you.” She teases, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. “Go, it might be your last nap for the next eighteen years.”

"I love you, Warrior Queen." There are more kisses and more sweet words, and finally Juan crosses the compact hospital room to curl up on the Dad Bench and try to get at least a little bit of sleep before his baby girl enters the world.

“I don’t want to be horrible through this.” She admits quietly. “I’m hoping the labor progresses so I get an epidural quickly.”

"There is not a single person who is going to even blink an eye if you are upset during this labor," you promise her. She pats the side of her bed and you perch on the edge of the mattress, holding her hand all the while. "If you wanted or needed to rage through the whole thing, we would stand by your right to do so. But we'll also stand by your choice to do things any other way. Whatever way is going to be the best possible experience of bringing your first baby into this world."

“Will you do me a favor?” She asks quietly, eyeing Juan as he turns into the couch and gives you his back. He’s already snoring lightly so she’s not worried about him overheating. “If something happens…..” This is the first time that she’s ever said anything out loud and her eyes are anxious. “I’ve signed the paperwork already, but if something happens, I don’t want to stay on machines.” She whispers. “Promise me that you’ll help him let go. And if it’s me or the baby…you know what I want you to choose.”

“Nothing is going to happen.” As firmly and sternly as you can, you squeeze your best friend’s fingers in yours and bite back the instant tears that spring but behind your eyes. The fact that this conversation is even necessary is heartbreaking, but women die in childbirth every single day. Nothing is going to happen. You almost shake with determination but that isn’t what she needs right now. The person who means the most to you in the world besides Marcus is looking you in the face and asking you to be loyal to her. And you will. “I promise.” Two small, devastating words. But if she’s thought this far ahead, she’s also had another thought. “You have a will somewhere?”

“In the safe at home.” She nods, relieved that you are not fighting her and it’s obvious on her face. She had expected an argument, she knows she would have gotten one from Juan, which is why she chose you as her medical POA. “The papers are in an envelope in my bag.” She nods towards the incredibly organized hospital bag.

“Okay.” You nod, still holding her hands tightly. “I love you. I will honor your wishes. Now tell me which onesies you packed to bring her home in so you can get excited again.”

“All of them.” Sydney snorts, only half kidding. “There are twelve that I couldn’t decide between, so I brought them all. Figured we would decide which one looks best when we are holding her.”

“We can absolutely decide later.” She’s already a little sweaty at the top of her forehead from the contractions and you nudge a cup of melted ice chips toward her just to cool her down. “Do you have a top three?”

“The ones in the right hand pocket.” She takes the cup and starts to gulp down the cool water.

In the right hand pocket of Sydney’s neatly packed hospital bag, three folded baby onesies await their new owner: one from her mother in law covered in little surfboards and ocean waves and sunglasses to represent how much Juan had loved surfing when he was out in California. One from Syd’s sister AnnaLeigh with Once Upon a Time…a Heroine was Born written out like the beginning of an illuminated fairytale, and one from you and Marcus emblazoned with the logo of Syd’s favourite hockey team to get her baby girl started out right. “They’re fantastic choices,” you hum, looking at the clothes with misty eyes.

“You see why I couldn’t choose?” She laughs, shaking her head and setting down the rest of the ice chips to melt. Seriously not understanding why they just wouldn’t give her water. Labor is fucking thirsty work.

“I think I like AnnaLeigh’s,” you admit, before tucking them back into the bag as carefully as they had been before. “But we’ll see how she feels about them when she’s here. Who knows? She might come out the chillest baby in the world and then we now she matches Juanito’s surfer phase.”

“Juan actually likes that one too.” She admits with a grin. “He’s so fucking excited for this baby to come. He swears if he could carry her for me, he would.”

“He totally would have if he could.” The grin on your face breaks wider, and you sit back on the edge of Syd’s bed with her. “So would Marcus. In a heartbeat.”

“How did we get so fucking lucky?” Her eyes mist up, overwhelmed with the beautiful thought of both of you so happy and cared for with your soulmates.

“I truly have no idea.” The mist in her eyes halts for just a moment as another contraction hits, but it doesn’t fade. It doesn’t dim. Syd’s happiness is true, and you’re so grateful to see it. “Thank god they get along though. We’d be screwed if our soulmates weren’t friends.”

Panting, she leans back and rubs her belly. “We would make them be friends.” She jokes. “The most awkward small talk over beers until they find a common interest.”

“Lucky for us?” You sit forward and help her readjust her pillows from where they had fallen out of place. “They’re basically as inseparable as we are again.”

"Lucky for us." She agrees, leaning back with a sigh and smiling at you. "Thanks. You know what I need before I do sometimes."

“For most of the time we’ve known each other, I’ve been shocked that we aren’t soulmates.” At some point in your teenage years you had discussed it, but your appendicitis scar already existed and she has never born that. “I gotta be honest, I used to be bummed that we’re not. But when you met Juan, I understood why.”

She kisses the air in your direction. "Because you had Marcus waiting on you, too." She reminds you. "We are better than soulmates. We are sisters by choice."

“I would have waited forever for him.” She gets the same air kiss from you, and you descend into giggles together. “We really are lucky.”

The giggles are interrupted by another contraction, making Sydney hiss and squeeze her eyes shut as she tries to breathe through it. Coming out as more of a whine until the pain passes again. "They- They are getting closer." She huffs when she can talk again.

“We’re down to eight minutes and sixteen seconds apart,” you tell her, checking your watch. “You’re doing awesome, Syd.”

“I can’t believe it.” She grunts when she gets a foot in her rib. “I don’t know whether to be impressed that it’s going so fast, or cry because I’m not further along.”

"You're allowed to be both, you know." Frankly, you're both. She is progressing quickly but you know she would rather have just arrived fully dilated and ready to go. "Just remember. At least she's not dragging her heels like Junie did."

“I don’t know how your mom did it.” She huffs, thinking about your mother and how excited you had been for a younger sister. “She was still working while in labor.”

"My mother is some kind of weird combination of feral cryptid being and absolute machine," you chuckle, shaking your head. "If I'm trying to do bookings and make staff schedules during labor, please slap me."

Huffing out a laugh, she grunts and rubs her belly again on the side. “Done.” She pants. “But get me my notebook.” She points to her bag. “I just thought about a salted Carmel mocha crème brûlée.”

“I am only agreeing to this because it will take your mind off the pain.” Still, you dig into the pocket opposite the onesies she has earmarked as favorites and come out with her battered and beaten recipe notebook. “It sounds like it will be nice to send to your sous chef.”

“It sounds like something I want to eat right now.” She groans, flipping open the tatty cover and laying it on her baby bump to quickly write down her idea.

“You’re going to be a little distracted and busy for a while,” you remind her. Still you can’t help but grin at her tongue poking out from between her teeth as she scribbles.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not hungry.” She moans pitifully after finishing the notes. “I was in the middle of getting a snack.” The pout that pushes her lips out would be comical under different circumstances but she’s horribly disappointed to have not gotten to eat before being bustled into the car by her frazzled husband.

“What was snack time tonight?” It is absolutely always the way to distract her when she’s feeling bad, and tonight is All Sydney All the Time, so you’re focused in one her.

She groans and whimpers slightly at the food she had to leave on the counter. “Cottage cheese with fresh peach compote and balsamic glaze.” She pouts even more. “It was going to be amazing. But I had to tell Juan that I was cramping.”

“I’ll make sure there’s plenty in your fridge waiting for you when you get home.” You can promise her that, along with their fridge and freezer being fully stocked with ready-made meals and easy to use ingredients that should last more than two weeks. Between you and Marcus and Malachi and her staff, you’ve all been secretly helping prep for baby’s arrival for a week already. Even Agent Bailey made a contribution to the frozen meals and added some veggies from her garden.

“Thank you.” She smiles you softly. “I can’t believe that when I leave, I’m going to be holding her.” She admits with a grin.

“She’s almost here.” As if to affirm it, another swift kick to Sydney’s abdomen is brutally obvious, and you grin. “And she’s excited about it.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence. Broken by contractions and the quickening of their pace. Sydney trying to be quiet as she pants through them to let Juan sleep.

Checking your watch again and finding nearly two hours have gone by, you tilt your head at your best friend and hand her another strawberry candy. "Marcus should be back soon, and your contractions are barely more than five minutes apart now. I think it's time to wake Dad up and call for the nurse."

Marcus has Juan’s bag in the backseat and he had cancelled the reservations he had made for tonight. They aren’t going to be used, and he had apologized profusely. Still, he stops at the inn to run up to the small gun safe, using the biometric lock to open it and reveal a small ring box. He had been planning to propose tonight, and he still can, it will just look different now.

"It's happening, isn't it?" On his one night shift per week, Malachi had seen you and Marcus hustle out the backdoor of the inn with bags in hand and seen not long after when Marcus reappeared in a hurry. Now he is waiting at the back door once again, but this time to snag Marcus before he can disappear in to the night.

“It is.” Marcus nods with a huge grin spreading across his face. “Juan forgot his bag. I’ll text you when she’s born.” All the staff are invested so he will be sure to let them know. “You’ve got the inn?” He checks, although he knows what the other man will say.

"That baby is your godchild." Malachi smiles surprisingly softly. "This inn is mine."

“I know.” He reaches out and squeezes Malachi’s arm. “Birdie trusts you with her most important treasure.” He praises.

"Not quite." He winks at the other man, considering him a friend now after many months of back and forth, and grins. "She'd never leave me alone with you."

Marcus snorts, well aware of the man’s proclivity to flirt. He matches that grin. “That’s because she knows how persuasive you are.” He jokes, winking at him playfully. “Besides. You are still yearning for your soulmate and will only be happy when he breezes into your life like he’s always been there.”

"Check all those doctors for my ankle tat, handsome." Malachi teases, shooing Marcus toward the door. "A man in scrubs is better than a man in uniform."

“I will.” He gives Malachi a salute and hustles out of the door to speed back to the hospital as quickly as he can.

It's on the heels of a nurse when Marcus comes back into the room, with Juan standing at Syd's side holding tight to your hand while you have been banished to the corner of the room so the nurse can do her work. "It's almost time!" You tell him excitedly, wrapping your arms around him the second he makes his way over to her.

“Holy shit, I made it just in time then.” He can’t believe how fast it’s gone, he had expects at least half a day or more of labor.

"Apparently Constance does not want to wait." The shine of tears in your eyes isn't going anywhere now that you're about to head to the delivery room with Sydney and Juan, but you hug Marcus fiercely. "And I can't wait to meet her. I'm so glad you made it in time."

“Me too.” Marcus presses his lips to yours, letting you cling to him for a second before you pull back. “Does she want me there for Juan or should I stay here?”

"Stay here and hold down the fort for us? She's going to be exhausted when it's all over but she's nervous about everything being okay in the room while we're gone." Wishing so dearly that this was your night only makes you smile because you know that it's only a matter of time.

“Absolutely.” Marcus nods and looks over at Juan and Sydney. “I’ve got everything here. You go meet your daughter.”

"We'll be back soon." Juan is beaming, practically hopping around, and looks like he might jump out of his own skin if given the chance. "She's almost here!"

Marcus laughs at the bubbly excitement, watching as the nurses wheel her bed out, with you and Juan right on their heels as she’s transferred over to the delivery room. “And now…” Marcus pulls out the ring box and flicks it open to look down at the gorgeous ring. “We wait.”

It's over an hour before anyone comes back into the room, and when it happens it's just you alone with a look of exhausted panic on your face. "Everyone's okay." The first words out of your mouth, but you murmur them while shaking slightly and bolting into his arms, so it isn't terribly reassuring.

That doesn’t sound reassuring, coupled with the desperate way you cling to him. Marcus folds you into his embrace tightly.

“She was breech…” Sniffling through the explanation and clinging to him even harder is about the best you can do right now. “And they couldn’t get her to turn. Then—then they did an ultrasound and figured out that—” The shudder that runs through you is all-encompassing. “She had her umbilical cord around her neck. So they had to do an emergency c-section.” The shaky breath you exhale as you lean back is enough to make him quake right along with you, but he holds you steady. “And then the placenta ruptured after they brought the baby out and—and Syd just kept bleeding—”

“Oh shit.” Marcus whispers in horror, his heart plummeting to his feet and he swallows harshly. “But they are both okay?” He had heard you say they were, but he needs the confirmation.

“They’re both okay.” You can barely manage to nod, tears spilling over for yet another time. “They took Constance to the NICU and Juan is with Syd in recovery until they okay her to come back here.”

“Thank God.” Marcus breathes out softly. “Hopefully Syd is asleep? I know she would be frantic if Constance isn’t with her after that.”

“Awake, but exhausted.” You’re still gripping his leather jacket, refusing to let go. It had been warding off the chill in the air conditioned room but now it’s your life line. “They let her hold the baby for a few minutes before they whisked her off to the NICU.”

“How is she?” Marcus asks quietly, worrying about the baby. “Could we sit with her in the NICU?”

“The doctor said not to worry.” Though you sniffle again, clearly very concerned. “That she’s seen babies in far worse condition come through it totally fine. But they wanted her in a place where they can help immediately if they need to.” Two tears leak from your eyes but you brush them away with the back of your wrist and try to breathe. “They’ll come down and tell us in a little while if she can come be with Sydney or if we’ll be allowed to visit the NICU. For now we just gotta—we gotta stay put. That’s why Juan wanted me to come tell you.”

“Then that is what we will do.” Marcus promises, rubbing your back gently. “I’ll wait to pick up her sushi, hmm?” He wants you to decide that is the best option because he’s not leaving you right now. Not for anything in the world. He’s already reached out to his team to let them know he’s out of pocket for right now.

“Until after she gets some sleep.” You nod against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist for a sturdy anchor. “This is…not a celebrating time. The only thing worth celebrating is the fact that they’re okay.”

The ring he had planned to give you tonight burns a hole in his pocket, but he hums in agreement, pressing his lips to your head. “I completely agree.” He murmurs softly. “We will just make sure that they are in perfect health.”

“I love you so much.” The sheer relief of having him in your arms now after nearly losing your best friend — both of them meaning more to you than life itself — is unspeakable. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promises. “I think I’m going to text the group that mom and baby are resting comfortably and we will make the announcement later?” He asks. “I don’t want people to bug Juan or worry.”

“I think that’s probably a good idea.” The last that the baby arrival group chat had heard, Syd was being wheeled to the delivery room. They deserved an update.

“Why don’t you go into the bathroom and wash your face, sweetheart?” Marcus urges. “Change into your comfy clothes and I’ll send out a text.”

“I’m too anxious to sleep, but I’ll wash up and change.” It seems like it will make you feel less frazzled, and therefore more on your game to help your friends. “But if you need to lie down, you should. I’ll wake you up when the nurse comes in with news.”

“I won’t sleep.” Marcus is too focused on you, too in tune with your nervousness to ever nap. Not right now.

“Then change with me and settle in,” you suggest instead, knowing that if your positions were switched you would feel the same. “It might be a long night.”

Marcus nods. “I can do that.” He promises, rubbing your shoulders and moving towards the bags. “If you want to take a quick shower, no one would blame you.”

“I think I’ll save that trick for refreshing myself in a few hours from now.” Predicting that you’ll need it, you kiss him now and slip off to the adjacent bathroom with your overnight bag to change.

Marcus pulls out his phone and calls down to the florist department that is on the ground floor of the hospital, wanting Sydney to come back to a lovely bouquet.

Wash your face. Change your clothes. Try not to break out crying again that you almost had to put that conversation with Syd a few hours ago into action. By the time you come out of the bathroom in Marcus’s old FBI Academy sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants, your shoulders are drooping and your feet are dragging but at least you’ve stopped crying.

“Oh sweetheart.” While you had washed your face, Marcus had changed out in the room. “Come lay down with me on the sofa/bench thing.” He urges, reaching for you again.

“The Dad Bench.” Curling up into his side immediately, you lay your head on his shoulder and breathe out another sigh. “After you left, she made me promise to make the decision if something went wrong,” you tell him quietly. “Juan would never be able to…and she knew…that if she made me promise. I’d do what she wanted.”

He had been stroking your arm, fingers freezing as he absorbs the implication of that statement. “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.” He closes his eyes and sends up a prayer of thanks and continued good health to whomever might hear him. He doesn’t wish that on anyone, least of all his soulmate and one of his best friends.

"It almost did." Tears come again, fresh and few, but they are definitely there. "The only other time I've heard Juan pray in Spanish was when his mother had a heart attack a few years ago."

“I would be praying in every fucking language I could if it were you.” Marcus whispers. “To every God ever imagined.”

"Everyone is okay." Having to remind yourself of it fairly often seems...fairly reasonable, all things considered. You had stood at your best friend's side and looked her and her soulmate in the eyes as the doctors worked to control her bleeding. As she lay on a table with the distinct reality that those would be the last moments of her life.

But no. Everyone is okay. And soon they'll send her downstairs so she can rest comfortably, and they'll bring little Constance to her to have joyous moments with her family instead of fearful ones.

“Everyone is okay.” He echoes softly. “But…I asked the nurse for a rollaway bed for you.” The nurse had slipped into the room to check on you while you had been in the bathroom, before he had changed. You had just walked into the other room and closed the door, in fact. He had thought it would be best to prepare for you to not leave this room anytime soon.

"Did she say anything else?" No news is good news most of the time when you're in a hospital, but if Marcus got to speak to a nurse you want to know everything.

“She said that momma and baby should be in here by the time visitor hours start.” He couldn’t get a timeframe beyond that, but he took what he could get.

"That's..." Turning your wrist to check your face, the dial reads just after four in the morning. "That's about four hours. And I know Juan won't be down without them. So...I guess we should settle in?"

“Of course.” He doesn’t move, just continuing to hold you. Feeling you relax against him slowly.

"I guess...rain check on date night sex?" You huff weakly, trying for a joke. By this time of night on a date night you would normally be fast asleep – and very naked – in each other's arms.

“A rain check with you is better than any legal tender.” He jokes back, smiling softly even though he had hoped it would be engaged sex.

"What a night." The longer that you sit with him, the calmer you get. It's such an enormous thing for you, to have someone to anchor you as well as he does, and you sigh again as you deflate just a little more into his side.

“Not exactly how I imagined the night going.” Marcus admits with a small sigh. He’s not unhappy, he just wishes the birth hadn’t been so traumatic for everyone.

"Tell me what we were going to do tonight." Thinking about absolutely anything else seems like a very good idea right now, and while you know it was already late when you were leaving the apartment, you also know that Marcus had made plans for tonight.

“I had booked us a late table at Kingbird.” He tells you, smiling at the fact that Sydney had pulled the strings to get the reservation. “It was supposed to be the last table of the night.”

"The restaurant at the Watergate?" Your eyebrows raise when you look up at him and you're practically pouting. "I've been dying to try that place."

“I know.” He had asked and there was a list of places, but he had chosen that one to immortalize as special for the two of you. “And booked us a room at the hotel.”

"Shit." The pout on your lips deepens when you realize how much work Marcus had put into the night, only for it to be interrupted. "I'm so sorry, love. We'll have to reschedule everything. It sounds like it would have been beautiful."

“This is more important.” Marcus insists. “Don’t apologize. This is where I want to be, with you.”

"I don't think I could make it through tonight without you." It would be too much to handle on your own. With such deep emotions entangled in every second of the night, without your anchor you might have just flown apart. "I don't like the idea of doing anything without you anymore."

“You would have, sweetheart.” Marcus knows that, you are so damn strong. So much stronger than you ever believe about yourself. “I know you would have, but you don’t have to.” He stresses. “I’ll be here for you. Support you, comfort you. Celebrate your success and mourn your losses with you. I’m right here.”

"There are no losses to mourn tonight." And you'll be thanking every deity out there for any part they may have had in it. And also making sure that you note down the name of Sydney's doctor for your own pregnancies, because that woman worked quickly and thoroughly and without hesitation to make sure that both mother and baby made it through a birth that would have killed them both in decades past.

“We celebrate life.” He agrees softly. “And love. That little girl is loved so much already.”

"She's beautiful." And of course, there's a sniffle again. At least this one is happy and relieved. "Syd's big eyes and Juan's dark hair."

“Juan is going to be miserable when she gets older.” He laughs quietly. “She’s going to be gorgeous.”

"If she's anything like her mom, she'll have her head too far in the clouds to notice any of the boys or girls chasing her," you laugh along with him, remembering Sydney in high school. "Syd never had any clue how sought after she was."

“She was waiting for Juan.” It’s a bit of a romantic stretch, but it could also be the truth. “Plus she was too in love with crème brûlée. No mere man could compare.”

"She was dreaming about a caramel mocha one while you were gone." The maddening fear is starting to subside, finally, and you sink ever more deeply against Marcus on the bench. "I swear I'll make them for her every day for the rest of her life after what happened tonight."

“See?” He smirks to himself. “She loves them and I’ll help you. I can take the next week off, help with the inn and let you focus on Sydney and co?”

"You don't have to do that." It's a lot to ask of him, and you know that even though he has plenty of vacation time, you were planning on taking a trip down to Texas to spend New Years with his parents. "It's a deeply appreciated gesture, though."

“I don’t mind.” He protests, although he had been certain you would not let him do that for you. “I hope you know that.”

"I know, my love." In his lap, your fingers find his and tangle your hands together. "Why don't we wait on that decision until we see how Sydney and the baby are doing? I don't want you to take extra days out when I know you had been wanting to do other things with them in the next few months."

“Alright.” He will do what you want, let you lead this but he won’t let you exhaust yourself trying to carry everything. “Hopefully they will deliver the flowers I ordered before Syd comes back into the room.”

“You ordered flowers?” Sometimes you really feel like the things he does are magic, from small to large the gestures of love and support are always so deep that it seems impossible for him to not be the Superman of emotional support. “Honey, you’re—you’re too good. Too all of us.”

Marcus snorts. “My mother insisted we order flowers from her and dad, before this all went sideways.” He adds. Wanting you to know the context. “But Sydney just went through a traumatic childbirth. Flowers are the least I could do in order to make her feel loved and special.” He had ordered the flowers his mother wanted and then ordered other arrangements, including a welcome bouquet for Constance herself.

“Everyone is okay.” More reassuring this time, the words still come out in a hush and your eyes drop from Marcus’s for a moment before fluttering back up. “Thank you for being you,” you murmur after a moment. Marcus is that supportive and bolstering friend and family member. This is just who he is. And you’re so entirely grateful to have him here with you, especially right now.

“I don’t know if I would thank me for that.” Marcus teases, leaning in and kissing your forehead again. “But you can always count on me, hummingbird.”

“I know I can. And I’m thankful for that.” More than you could ever say. More than any words you have.

“Close your eyes.” He orders softly. He knows you are exhausted and emotionally spent. You need the rest so you can care for Sydney, Juan and the baby when they are back in this room.

“I can’t guarantee I’ll sleep.” Though you’ll try, knowing that the nurse doesn’t expect Sydney or the baby to be able to come down for at least a few hours.

“I know. Just closing them will be good.” He murmurs softly, still rubbing your back when you shift to lay across him. “You’ve been crying.”

“You would have been proud of me,” you murmur, settling against him one more time and shutting your eyes. “I kept it together until after everything happened.” It was shock, probably, but you still managed it. “Therapy is going to be a doozy this week.”

“Yes it will.” He won’t deny that or try to minimize your feelings. “You don’t need to skip it.”

“I’m absolutely not going to skip it.” Not this week, of all weeks. Not at all. The heaviness of the night is tugging at you, not for sleep but for rest, and for the first time you think you actually might be able to calm down fully as long as you can stay in Marcus’s arms.

Humming in approval, he doesn’t speak, letting the silence draw between you and waiting for your breathing to start slowing down.

The nap lasts about two hours. Two hours held tight in Marcus’s arms on that padded bench, and when you shift against him the small sound of noncommittal discomfort and surprise is enough to tell you that he fell asleep too. Good, you think, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Everyone deserves a reset tonight. Even little Constance.

Marcus wakes quietly, as soon as you move, and he slowly remembers that he’s not in your bed. Both of you are at the hospital. He hums and sighs softly, knowing it hadn’t been a long nap, but it will do wonders for the coming hours.

"Hey handsome." The room is quiet and so are you, sitting up to stretch beside him and bring your limbs back to life.

“How did you sleep?” Marcus asks softly, watching you through heavy eyes.

“Better than I thought I would,” you admit, though you have a feeling that’s only because you didn’t sleep deeply enough for nightmares to set in. “You?”

“Pretty good nap.” He yawns. “Although I know I’m going to have to get coffee for all of us.”

Checking your watch, you stretch again and knock against his side with a lopsided grin. “The cafeteria should be open soon. I have a map of the hospital in my bag so you won’t get lost.”

“Just for that, I’ll bring you two coffees.” He groans, standing up and stretching out. “I should get dressed.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be the only visitor to go get coffee in your jammies.” Far from it, if you had to hazard a guess.

He snorts slightly. “I don’t doubt it. But I would hate to steal any of Juan’s new dad thunder.” He jokes, winking at you.

“Juan will be doing everything in bespoke suits with giant buttons that exclaim New Dad! for everyone he meets.” It’s sweet to think about, now that the fear is mostly past. It won’t wither entirely until you get to see mother and baby, but that should be soon.

“Of course he will.” Marcus laughs. “He’s already got an app on his phone that is just for organizing pictures of the baby.”

“Make sure you get the name of it,” you tease, leaning over to kiss him and getting one last stretch in — right into his arms. “We’ll need that for our kids, I’m sure.”

“You know it.” Marcus grins. “I’ve already downloaded it. It also has a wedding portion of the app. Basically you can upload all your important moments in it.” He doesn’t mention that he had set it up for the proposal that didn’t happen last night.

“You think of everything.” He really does, so it’s barely even an embellishment. At this point you’re just relieved that you can think of small things again instead of the larger, overhanging fear of just a few hours ago.

“Not everything.” Marcus snorts, winking at you. “Otherwise, I would have had coffee delivered by now.”

“Mostly everything, then.” One more kiss and you pull back to get your things sorted out around the room. “I’m going to tidy up a little and get out a couple of comfort things for Syd. So when she comes down she’ll have her favorite cardigan and things like that.” Absolutely anything you can do to soothe your best friend’s hellish night, you’re going to.

“That sounds perfect.” Marcus agrees. “I’ll go grab the coffee. What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Just my usual.” Your hum of appreciation is more relaxed than it would have been earlier in the night. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” He promises as he quickly starts changing into the clothes he had brought.

Marcus is gone for about a half an hour before the door to the room opens again, but when it does it's Juan there – holding the door open wide as one of the overnight workers from the transport department wheels Sydney's bed back into the room with her nurse hot on their heels.

“We are back.” His tone is exhausted but elated at the same time. It’s been a sleepless night for him. Afraid that he would close his eyes and Sydney would be gone.

"How are you feeling, honey?" You're at Sydney's side as soon as the nurse is done getting her settled. The woman has the patience of a saint and excuses herself to go retrieve Constance, who is being allowed to leave the NICU.

“Tired. Sore.” She admits with a quick, tired smile. “Impatient to hold my daughter.”

"She'll be down soon." Glancing at the door where the nurse has disappeared to bring around that same little girl, the warmth in the room starts to grow exponentially. "Marcus went to get coffees. And I'll bring sushi for lunch. Cross my heart."

“I don’t know if I’m hungry.” Sydney admits with a slight shrug. She’s still a little disoriented from the drugs. “But coffee sounds amazing. I could sleep for days.”

"Then we won't worry about food right now. But Marcus is bringing back coffee for you, and he should be back very soon." You grin at your friends and send them both a conspiratorial shrug. "I sent him with a map, otherwise you know he would have gotten lost."

Juan laughs as he fuses over Sydney, hovering as if she might disappear if he steps too far away. “He should have been a Lieutenant in the military, as bad as he is.”

“I’ve just learned to always have a map for new places or to set up the gps in his car without asking.” It’s a quirk, and you all have them, but Marcus’s ability to get lost almost anywhere is a standing joke between the four of you and it’s so, so good to hear Syd laugh. Even if it’s only a little, it’s completely worth it.

The knock on the door comes just a moment later and Marcus pokes his head in. “Oh you’re here!” He brightens up and pushes the door open, the delivery person from the flower shop hot on his heels. “I was hoping to get all this inside before you did.”

“We just got back.” Syd is groggy for sure, but not so badly that she doesn’t register the tray of coffees and bag of food with the hospital’s cafe logo on it that you jump forward to snag from him and the delivery of flowers that comes in behind him. With the tension and fear of the last few hours and all the emotions and hormones still raging in her, Sydney is immediately in tears. “You—you got flowers?” She half-squalls like it’s the kindest and most loving thing any person has ever done in the history of time. For her, especially right now, it definitely feels like it.

“Ohhhh don’t cry.” Marcus frets slightly, even though he’s pretty sure that they are happy tears. “I wanted you and Constance to have a beautiful reminder of how loved you both are.” He walks over to the recovering woman, that he now regards as his friend, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “More are coming too.” He promises.

“It’s so sweet!” Syd huffs between large tears, hugging Marcus as tightly as her recovering body will permit. “You’re so sweet.” Even after we interrupted your plans, she thinks loudly, but manages not to say it. She knows what last night was supposed to be and she hated having to call when she knew Marcus was about to sweep you out the door.

“You deserve nothing but happiness right now.” He promises, looking over at Juan and squeezing Sydney gently before he pulls back and moves over to the new father. “Congratulations.” He is somber, aware of what the agony of the night had done to his friend.

“It was a hell of a night.” Juan pulls Marcus in for a hug — something the two men need right now for grounding, but Juan also murmur, “And sorry for the timing” to Marcus before pulling away.

“Don’t ever worry about that.” Marcus insists. “Doesn’t matter if I was in the middle of it, we would have been on our way.” Yes, proposing to you and giving you a beautiful moment is important to him; but some things are always much more important and this is at the top of that priority list.

“We’ll make it work.” Juan promises quietly, glad to see you absorbing Sydney in conversation while she marvels at the flowers that Marcus ordered.

“How’s Constance doing?” Marcus asks quietly, not seeing the bassinet in the room. “Will she be released from the NICU soon?”

“Our doc said she’s stable, so she can come down and have some family time and be fed.” As a brand new father of only about two and a half hours, that has Juan both puffing out his chest and teary with pride. “The nurse should be bringing her down now.”

“That’s great!” Marcus grins, knowing that both mama and daddy will feel better with their newborn daughter in their room.

Having settled Sydney with her coffee and treat — Marcus brought muffins back from the cafe — you excuse yourself to the bathroom and feel like you can finally breathe. Syd is here. You can hear her muffled laughing through the door. And the baby will be down soon. Everyone is okay.

“Looks Marcus…” Sydney’s voice is hushed and he can tell by her guilty expression what is coming. “Please, don’t apologize again.” He begs her softly. “There is nothing to apologize for.”

“I can call Kingbird,” she offers immediately. Explain it was my fault you had to cancel and get you a new reservation.”

“No.” He shakes his head and glances back at the bathroom. “I don’t think she’s going to be leaving your side for quite awhile and I cannot in good conscience try to convince her otherwise.”

He insists that she shouldn’t apologize more but Sydney still feels like she ought to, pursing her lips until she eventually tilts her head to look up at the men standing side by side at her bed. “You could still do it tonight if you wanted to,” she offers. It’s technically morning now — past six, anyway — but she hasn’t gotten any sleep yet so everything blends together. “It…” she blows out a sigh. “I know it wasn’t the easiest night.” For her especially. “But it would be nice to have Constance’s birth surrounded by happiness. Instead of what might have happened.”

Marcus considers it for a moment, frowning slightly and he bites his lip. “That is— are you sure?” He would never want to take away from Constance and her birth.

Sydney sits back in her hospital bed and takes Juan’s hand, letting him anchor her the way you always do with Marcus. “I don’t want the only thing I remember about the day my daughter was born to be that both of us almost died,” she admits quietly, knowing it’s a little selfish to ask him for this but also knowing that the happy memories you make together mean everything to the four of you.

He can understand that and he bites his lip. “Then….what do you think about me proposing here?” He asks. “It’s not the most romantic setting, but I think under the circumstances, it’s the best place to do it.”

“There’s flowers and best friends and I know you brought her back her favourite muffin.” Juan chuckles, feeling a bit misty eyed over more good things happening. “What’s more romantic than that?”

“Maybe we can do something that involves the baby?” Marcus suggests.

“I will squall.” Sydney warns, already tearing up all over again. “But quickly before she comes back…wrap the ring box in the baby blanket?”

“Perfect.” Marcus dives for the bag that had been packed for Constance and finds the soft baby blanket they had decided to wrap her in while in the hospital. “When the baby comes in, ask her to get the blanket for you.” Marcus tells Sydney.

“If we can keep a straight face,” Syd laughs, but agrees immediately.

Marcus hides the ring box in the folds of the blanket. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“More than.” Sydney promises, right before the bathroom door opens.

You had washed up a little again, refreshing yourself and feeling a little more human while you were in the bathroom. “Did you manage to rest a little while you were upstairs?” Your focus is right back on Sydney but you take a second to give Marcus a kiss of thanks when he hands you your coffee.

“Yes.” She’s still tired and exhausted, but she smiles. “I did, you don’t worry about me.” She huffs, knowing that it won’t do any good. You will fret over her just like Juan will. “Looking forward to sushi later.”

“We’ll have a sushi party and baby girl can get milk drunk like a party animal.” Making the best of what had been a nearly calamitous situation is good for everyone’s spirits right now. You help the guys set up a little area as a breakfast ‘table’ for the three of you and set Sydney’s things on her tray. It’s about time for the morning shows that Juan loves so the tv goes on, and seconds later the nurse enters with her bundled up charge yawning as loudly as her little lungs can manage.

“Oh my god.” Marcus coos as soon as he sees the little angel in the flesh. She is perfect and nothing will convince him otherwise, falling in love with his goddaughter in a split second. “She’s so precious.”

“She’s perfect.” As expected, Sydney and Juan are both in tears all over again, and the nurse who helped Sydney get comfortable upstairs makes sure Mom and Dad have everything they need before bowing out to let the family bond.

“She’s beyond perfect.” It’s all you can do not to cry with them, looking at your best friend and goddaughter together.

“Isn’t she?” Sydney completely agrees as she finally gets to hold her newborn daughter. Completely in awe of how perfect she is.

The room is practically full of the sound of smiling, whatever that really is, but you end up half-laughing under your breath and looking to Marcus with fresh water behind your eyes. "I want one too," you laugh, overwhelmed with absolute joy and love.

He laughs at your eagerness, the yearning and knows that you are only partially joking. “I don’t know if we could top how perfect she is.” He admits with his own chuckle.

"Maybe not." The only possible place for you to be right now is snuggled into his side and you tuck yourself in there to just stare at your goddaughter together. "We can't know until we try, though."

Sydney spares a glance at Marcus, who nods as he holds you close. “We have to get through a few other things first.” He reminds you.

"I know." You hum when he presses a kiss to the top of your head and sigh again. "I just love her so much and I wanna give her everything. Including playmates."

Sydney coos at Constance and cuddles her closer. “Birdie, would you get me her baby blanket?” She asks softly. “From her bag? I want her in the things we picked out.”

"Yeah, of course!" You hop to immediately, slipping out of Marcus's arms to go to the bag Sydney packed. The baby blanket from Sydney's parents is folded near the top. It's a light thing, a beautiful hand knitted piece done in their chosen color of green and then embroidered with the initials CMB for Constance Marie Badillo.

The blanket slips a little in your hand when you pick it up, and when you go to right it a small but weighty something falls out from the center. The realization that it's probably something that Juan tucked away as a surprise for Sydney has you tucking it back inside quickly and handing over the blanket like you're suddenly holding a hot potato.

Sydney hadn’t been expecting you to hand over the blanket so fast so she pushes towards you again for a moment. “Hold it please.” She requests, knowing you will do anything. She has to give Marcus time to get into position.

"Of course," you agree again, bobbing your head on a nod. Glancing over at Juan makes you wonder if you should do something to help, like opening up the blanket so she can see the little jewelry box or something. Maybe hold it sort of presentationally? You can't quite make up your mind and end up clutching the blanket to your chest in surprise when you hear Marcus clear his throat and whirl around to see him down on one knee in the middle of the little hospital room.

That jewelry box was definitely not for Sydney...

“Before you panic, I have the happy new parent’s permission.” Marcus promises as he reaches for the hand that is not clutching the blanket protectively. “And today is a celebration. Of life, and love.” He tells you softly.

"Oh my god." It's just about all you can think to say as you choke on a fresh round of tears and tighten your fingers in his hand.

“I know.” Marcus flashes you a grin. “Sweetheart, there is no one else I want by my side, confiding in, planning for the future and sharing part of my soul with.” He promises you. “I love everything about you and there is not one thing that I could possibly imagine changing. I love your loyalty to friends and family, your work ethic and your tenacity. Your tender heart and your penchant for dreaming.” He takes a big breath, clearly saying your full name. “Will you marry me?”

He can barely finish the question before your thick, cracking voice is chirping endless yeses. Before you're crumpling to your knees to kiss him, cradling the blanket between you as delicately as if the baby was already wrapped in it. "I love you" gets mixed in with all the "Yes!" and more "Oh my god" as if you can't quite believe that it's finally happening. From the moment that the two of you individually became a unit, you've both known that this was the direction you were heading in. But now that you're here? It feels even better than you could ever have guessed.

He knew your answer, he’s known it, but he still giggles in relief and cupping your cheek to kiss you. “I love you.” He promises softly, pecking your lips again and again. He hears both Juan and Sydney sniffling happily and knows this was the right call.

For a moment the room is just happy tears and sniffles and giggling, and you’re both so jittery that you get a little mixed up in retrieving the ring box from deep inside the handmade baby blanket in your arms. Marcus had said he bought your promise and engagement rings together so they would match and of course his decision is perfect — the haloed diamond stands out over heart shaped stones of the promise ring he gave you months ago, and the fact that they’re from him makes them so perfect you could just fall apart right here in his arm.

“It was.” He admits with a modest tilt of his head. “But I think that this might be even better. “Your best friend and goddaughter got to witness it.”

“And your best friend too.” No one who ever ran into Marcus and Juan now would think they had spent so many years apart. They’re more likely to be mistaken for twins than anything else, and actually had been on a dinner out a few weeks ago.

“It makes it better than anything else.” He nods in agreement, looking over at your friends. “We are friends and family.”

“Matron of honor and best man?” It’s hardly a question, but Marcus has slipped the beautifully shimmering engagement ring onto your finger and you glance back over at your tearful friends with absolute joy. “And the tiniest, sweetest, most perfect little flower girl in the whole world?”

“The perfect flower girl.” Marcus agrees with his own emotional chuckle. “And of course they are our matron of honor and best man. What else could they possibly be?”

“Your caterer.” Syd half-complains with a pout, but it’s so half-hearted that she just ends up laughing through the tears. “Get over here and let us hug you two, and meet your goddaughter up close. Obviously we’re going to be whatever you want us to be. All three of us.”

“Not going to happen.” Marcus snorts, shooting Sydney a smile. “You’re going to participate in the reception. But…” he shrugs. “We will let you create our menu.”

“Here we go.” Juan teases, gently taking the baby blanket out of your arms to wrap up his daughter with the already precious heirloom. “Breakfast and wedding planning.” He grins down at Sydney. “I’ll get your notebook and take notes. You focus on our angel.”

Marcus laughs because he knows that’s exactly what will happen. Although there might be a little more cooing over the baby than anything else going on. As it is, he can’t wait to get his hands on her.

“I already know what wedding cake you want.” Syd grins, readjusting in her seat so this conversation can include food for everyone, including little Constance. She’s already gotten her little girl to latch once without a hellish amount of trouble so she’s hoping to do it on her own this time.

There has already been plenty of conversation about Sydney breastfeeding, but Marcus busies himself with his bag while she gets her daughter situated. It’s not because he’s weirded out, just a respect thing, giving the new mother time to get used to being exposed without feeling like she’s in a fishbowl.

“I’m covered,” Sydney assures him, after a few minutes of fussing where Marcus does anything but look directly at her. His respect level is top notch and she appreciates that about him. “Let’s talk food, please? And—” Before she can even ask, Juan is handing her a cup of water and she melts and murmurs a quiet “Thank you.”

“I just wanted to give you some time.” Marcus joins the small group, sitting down when you stand up and pulling you into his lap while Juan sits on the bed with his wife and child. “So right off the bat, what’s your first ideas?” He’s smart enough to know the final menu will be completely different from the first one.

“Americana.” You and Sydney grin at each other and you lean back in Marcus’s lap to sip your coffee while you talk. “Updated versions of classic American dishes.”

“What would that look like?” He asks, frowning in confusion. “Meat loaf?”

“Could be.” Sydney nods. “It could be things like gourmet versions of tv dinners.”

“Or it could be modern versions of older popular dishes,” you nod in agreement. “Like upscale Steak Diane or deconstructed chicken pot pie.”

“Finger foods?” Marcus asks. “I’m sure there will have to be a buffet of canapés.”

“Depends on the events.” Smiling around a sip of iced coffee, you press a kiss to Marcus’s temple a second later. “I’m thinking four.”

“Four events?” Marcus chuckles. “That’s bachelorette party, bridal shower, rehearsal dinner and wedding?”

“Maybe five,” you admit with a sheepish grin. “You said you wanted to have an engagement party.”

“I think that it’s a good place for the publicity your mom wants.” He reminds you.

“Five events is a lot, but if we space them out I think we can manage it.” Looking down at him with an absolute glow on your face, your brand new engagement ring catches the light and makes your chest swell. “What season do you want to get married in?”

“Any one you want.” It’s fair in his mind, he’s been married before and all that matters to him is that you repeat your vows in front of friends and family. What the weather is like doesn’t matter a lick to him. “I guess it depends on how fast we can get it planned?”

“Don’t do less than six months,” Juan warns. His cousin had rushed things to disastrous consequences.

“I wouldn’t.” You can totally agree to that. “My impulse would be to say a year but…I’ve kind of always liked the idea of a summer wedding.” Chewing on the idea, you turn your eyes back down to Marcus again. “Roses stop blooming at the end of the summer.”

“Early fall?” He suggests. “October? It gives us seven months. And you will more than likely have White House help.” He shrugs. “Along with mine, of course.”

“If we did October, maybe I can do a summer bridal shower in the White House rose garden?” Your eyes widen, practically begging. “I would really love to use the rose garden.”

“Then you better make sure your mom doesn’t book it for a tea party.” He teases with a wink, reaching for your hand that now holds his engagement ring. “I think October is perfect. Hell, we could do a Halloween rehearsal dinner.” He jokes.

“Don’t even tease me about that,” you huff. A Halloween event would be exactly your style. “Halloween next year is on a Wednesday, otherwise I would be begging you to get married on Halloween.”

“Baby, if that’s what you want….” He shoots Juan a grin and shrugs. “I’m okay with that.”

“I don’t want to get married on a Wednesday night.” No one parties deep into a Wednesday night in their thirties. It doesn’t feel as special to you. “How about we get married earlier in October and I talk you into visiting the Paris catacombs with me on Halloween night during our honeymoon?”

“That works for me just as easily as anything else.” Marcus promises. “Only thing I care about is you and I celebrating our love and making a public commitment to each other.”

“I love you, too.” If it were just the two of you, you would be getting dressed to run off to a soulmate chapel immediately. But promises have been made and they need to be honored, and every chance to declare your love for Marcus loud and clear is worth taking. “Any Pike family traditions we should keep in mind that I don’t know about already?”

Marcus smiles. “There’s a jewelry set that is passed down to be used in the wedding, if wanted.” He adds. “It was my great, great grandmother’s.”

“Really?” Your expression softens immediately, eyes widening a little, and you nod right away. There is no question in your mind that you’re going to wear it. “Your Mom swore to pass down some family recipes after the wedding but she never mentioned heirlooms.”

“It’s only ever offered after the engagement.” He explains. “We had a certain cousin’s wife - I’m sure you can guess who - think that it was for her to keep.”

When Sydney and Juan look equal parts amused and confused, you snicker slightly. “Hannah has very interesting thoughts about the family,” you tell them, glossing over the few less than kind things Hannah Pike had said either to you or that had been relayed to you. “Which reminds me. I’m absolutely going to ask Selena to be a bridesmaid.”

“Sydney, you will love her.” Marcus promises. “She’ll be flying out every other weekend to help you plan.” He warns you. “Or just staying out here, she can work from anywhere.”

“She’s been thinking about moving,” you admit, barely biting back a grin at how much fun it would be to have her nearby permanently. Marcus’s cousin has become one of your closest friends in the months since your first visit to Texas. “She said she wants to come see what winter is like here to make sure it’s not too bad, but her office is opening a DC branch and asked her if she would be interested in heading up the new team out here.”

“How do you know that and I don’t?” He asks, putting on a faux pout.

“Because she hasn’t told your aunt and uncle yet and she didn’t want it to get back to the family.” That grin of yours becomes full force and you kiss his temple again. “She was trying to save you from having to lie if you got asked.”

“Well, then, you didn’t say anything to me.” He mimes zipping his lips and locking them to throw away the key.

"Probably a good policy," you agree, snickering quietly even as you squeeze his shoulders tightly.

There’s a sense of lazy content in the room. Everyone slowly savors the baked goods that Marcus had brought and sips their coffee. The baby, Constance, is the noisiest of them all, her hungry sucking and grasping one that makes all the adults smile as they look at her every thirty seconds.

She is Sydney’s entire focus, and when the baby is done with her own breakfast there is a little fuss over making sure she’s burped properly before she cuddles up against her mother’s chest to have a post-meal nap. Something that makes Sydney sigh in relief and hold her close. “You’d never know how bad last night almost was by looking at her.”

“Children are resilient.” Marcus muses. “She will never remember her birth and be completely unaffected by it, while it will stay with us forever.”

“All the better.” Sydney soothes one hand over her sleeping daughter’s back.

Marcus watches the loving gesture, almost aching for the time where he can watch you soothe the children you will have together. Will you look as much like Madonna and Child like Sydney does now? He thinks it will be even more profound like undoubtedly Juan feels like it is.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #pregnancy tw #childbirth tw #traumatic birth

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ladykailitha · 5 months

Text

The Magic of Christmas Part 4/8

Hello! How are you guys enjoying so far?

In this Steve realizes his feelings, Dustin and Robin decide Steve needs to live forever, and Steve gets roped into something he swore he'd never do.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

***

August was fucking miserable. Like the worst month of the year. After February. And January. And September...

That’s besides the point. The point was that AC had kicked the bucket in the middle of the biggest heatwave.

He was going to cry. The wizard piece turned out really well. Steve had loved all the little details that he had put in it.

But the rogue was giving him trouble. It was horrific. Because rogues were silent and mysterious, but the way Steve talked about Will, he was quiet kid, a bitchy teen, and a wild adult. Trying to figure his place in the world he kinda went punk. Dyed his hair bright green. Piercings and tattoos. Ripped clothes and combat boots.

Eddie slowly sat up. Well that’s a thought. He blinked for a moment. That could actually work.

Suddenly his phone rang. He frowned at the device. No one called anymore. It was all texts and DMs and Face Time. The name that came up because there was one, another surprising thing, was Steve.

He dived for the phone and managed to answer it before it went to voicemail.

“‘Ello?” he breathed.

“Hi, Eds,” Steve greeted cheerfully.

Eds.

Fuck.

The things that little nickname did to the butterflies in his stomach.

“Hey, Stevie!” he said back. “What can I do you for?”

“That article Nancy did is making some serious headway,” Steve explained. “I was wondering if you wanted to meet me for lunch to go over the details.”

Eddie laughed. “I was about to text you, darlin’. I have an idea for the rogue I wanted to float by you. So where to, my liege?”

“Monte Cruz, the Mexican place on 7th?” Steve asked.

It was a bit pricey, but it had the best fajitas Eddie had ever had. “Sure thing. 1pm okay?”

“Let me check,” Steve replied.

Eddie could hear him call Robin and while he couldn’t hear her response, Steve’s warm ‘thank you’ meant he was free.

“That’s perfect,” Steve said. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah.”

They hung up and Eddie laid on the floor staring up at the ceiling, holding his phone over his chest.

Fuck!

He got up and dashed to the bathroom to shower. He felt like he was covered in slime.

Steve was waiting for him on the terrace, a nice cool breeze rustling his hair. And Eddie couldn’t help but fall a little bit more.

Eddie waved and was far too pleased to get Steve’s little finger wave in return.

He sat down and grinned at Steve. “How is it cooler outside then in my loft?”

“Heat rises?” Steve suggested. cocking his head to the side.

Eddie laughed. “Well it’s the only thing that rising at this point. It’s so fucking hot.”

“I thought you’re loft had air conditioning,” Steve said with a frown.

“Apparently we worked it to extinction,” Eddie said mournfully.

Steve pulled out his phone. “Are you renting or paying a mortgage? I don’t remember what all we’re paying for.”

“Sadly, we own it,” Eddie said with a heavy sigh. “Otherwise I would have harassed a landlord to get it fixed.”

Steve hummed. “All right, I’ve messaged Robin. She’ll call around and get a technician come over tomorrow. It’ll go on my card if can be fixed or if it needs to be replaced.”

Eddie leaned back in his chair. “You don’t have to do that, man.”

Steve smiled at him. “Will the excess heat hurt your paintings?”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth a couple times before he threw his arms in the air. “Yes! Of course it will.”

“Then it’s a business expense and I’ll cover it.”

“I hate you,” Eddie said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You really, really don’t,” Steve murmured. “Now show me your idea for Will’s rogue.”

Eddie pulled out his drawing pad and flipped to the right page. He slid it over to Steve for him to see.

“Oh Eds,” Steve breathed. “It’s beautiful. He’ll love it.”

Eddie tried not to preen, but he couldn’t help it. “So I can go ahead and start painting?”

“Absolutely,” he replied. “Though maybe wait until after your cooler is fixed.”

Eddie threw his head back laughed. “I think you’re probably right.” He gently took the pad from Steve’s grip. “So what’s going on with the charity?”

Steve lit up. He started explaining about all the people interested opening would basically be franchises but that Eddie would still have full control of each branch.

“This is amazing, Stevie,” Eddie breathed. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I’m happy to help,” Steve said with a grin. “It means that I get drive Dustin absolutely nuts with this whole charity thing. He’s been begging me forever to meet you.”

“I mean, you can invite him to one of our reeducation of Steve Harrington movie nights,” Eddie said, shoving his hair in his face bashfully. “If you wanted to.”

Steve smiled fondly. “That’s sweet of you. But I was thinking something that would absolutely flip their collective shit even more than a movie night. A Halloween one-shot.”

Eddie’s lips formed an O. His eyes sparkled and he grinned. “I know just the thing. It’s something my friends and I used to do in high school. You have these little half–not even half character sheets that have just the most basic of stats. The point is to die in the most epic way possible. There are rewards for stupidest death, most epic death, TPK. It’s lots of fun.”

“That sounds amazing!” Steve said. “Would you be willing to do it?”

Eddie leaned forward on the table. “On one condition.”

“Oh?”

“You join us,” he said with a grin. “You read the stats, you roll the dice, you die like a bitch, just like everyone else. You’d be on equal footing with the rest of the Party.”

“Can I think about it?” Steve asked shyly, ducking his head.

“Sure thing, big boy,” Eddie replied. “But let’s order lunch. I’m starving!”

Steve laughed. “Of course.”

Robin poked her head into his office and held up a leather folio. “Do you want to tell me what the hell this is?”

“Sorry,” Steve said, “I’m not Spider-man. I don’t have x-ray vision.”

“That’s Superman,” Robin replied with a huff, “and you’re dodging the question. You know full well what I’m talking about.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I really, really don’t. I haven’t done any even remotely outrageous in months.”

She walked up to his desk and slammed the folio on the desk. “Steven Kevin Harrington...”

“Not my middle name,” he sneered. “You know what it is. You have seen my birth certificate way more times than I have.”

Robin laughed. “But it’s so lame, so I make up ones that sound better.”

“Whatever, Robs,” he said with a huff of his own. “What has got you so twisted this time?”

She opened the folio and turned it around to face him. “You booked the Newfield for New Year’s eve.”

Steve smiled widely at her. “I told you I was going to. It’s hardly my fault you were making goo-goo eyes at Eddie’s agent at the time.”

Robin gasped. “I was not!” He raised a single eyebrow and she folded. “Yeah, all right, maybe.”

Steve sat up in his chair and scooted closer to her. “Look, before you start throwing accusations around about feelings and thinking with my dick, it’s for the charity. You know, the one we’re working on right now.”

Robin glared at him. “So it has nothing to do with him making goo-goo eyes at you?”

“He’s not!” he protested. “There’s no way. He can have anyone he wants, he’s not going to go for a stuffed shirt like me.”

Robin raised both her eyebrows. “You can’t actually believe that.”

“You saw his most recent video right?” Steve snapped. “The one where he ranted about how greedy businessmen destroying the environment?”

“Uh...” she said, “you mean the one where he especially called out billionaire businessmen and how smaller companies can change the face of the industry and then went on to list ten things that CEOs can do to change the world and all of them were things you did with Starcourt Ltd. That one?”

Steve blushed. “I guess I didn’t realize.”

“Look,” Robin said sitting down in one of the chairs, “I was wrong about a lot of things when you first hired Eddie for this job. About him, about you and your motives. So I get why you can’t take my advice on this, but he likes you. And more than just a friend.”

He ducked his head as the blush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears down the column of the throat. “Don’t go there, please.”

Robin held her hands up in surrender. “I won’t if you don’t want me to. All I’m saying is that if you think you’re falling for him, too…just know he probably feels the same.”

Steve licked his lips. “Yeah, okay.” Then he suddenly buried his head in his hands. “Fuck, I have to make a phone call.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He lifted his head and sighed heavily. “Looks like I’m going to be playing D&D after all.”

She laughed and laughed as Steve buried his head again.

The kids were never going to let him live this down.

“You’re sending my off for my last year as undergrad,” Dustin whined, “and you’re making me come back for fall break? Why?”

Steve was getting tired of this question. The only people who knew about Eddie DMing for them was Steve, Robin, and Eddie. And probably Chrissy. Oh and Claudia Henderson, Dustin’s mom. Which meant that all the other moms knew too.

All right, the conspiracy was bigger than Steve thought.

“Because it is your last year,” he said with a sigh. “You’ll be heading off to MIT next year and it’ll be harder for you to come home for the holidays.”

Dustin deflated. “Yeah, okay. So everyone will be home for Halloween?”

Steve brightened up. “Yep! I’m throwing a costume party with pizza and if you guys aren’t shitheads about it, I might even front for a wet bar.”

Dustin frowned. “What the fuck is a wet bar?”

Robin who had just come home, smacked him on the back of his head, knocking off his hat. “It means there will be booze, doofus.”

Dustin who had been about to yell at her for knocking off his hat, turned to Steve instead. “Seriously?”

“Yup! I’ve okay’ed it with all the parental units,” he said, “and I keep an eye on your intake to make sure you don’t get sick, they’re fine with it.”

Dustin launched himself at him and hugged him tight. “You’re the best, Steve!”

“There won’t be beer,” Steve warned. “It’s not the best drink to get started drinking on and bottles tend to hide how much you’ve been drinking.”

“Are they going to be spooky themed drinks?” Dustin asked.

Steve laughed. “Hell yeah, they are.” He ruffled Dustin’s hair. “Now go finish packing. I’m not going to let your mom do it for you this year. You’re an adult. Act like it.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “God, you’re more mom like then my actual mom.”

Steve laughed. “If I got insulted every time one of you called me mom, I would’ve died of a heart attack years ago.”

Dustin hit him on the arm. “No talks of dying. You aren’t allowed. You have to live forever.”

Robin laughed. “Sure, just got to find that elixir of life somewhere.”

“Or the fountain of youth,” Dustin helpfully supplied.

“You could always invent something,” Steve suggested.

Dustin’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea!” He dashed off excitedly.

“Pack first!”

Robin laughed.

***

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #christmas #artist eddie #businessman steve #autistic steve harrington

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

Text

Apothecary - Chapter Six

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

living in an aftermath, joel tries to hold her together as she falls apart.

warnings | 18+ smut, significant angst, canon-typical violence

wordcount: 4.3K (we were concise this week lol)

a/n | this is a rather insular chapter, and it happens to be one of my favorites so far. feel free to drop me a line and let me know what you think <3

p.s. if i had to offer one song for this chapter, it'd be magneto by nick cave and the bad seeds (yes, more nick cave, sue me)

.......................................

“Nothing?” “I don’t think she even touched the plate, old man.” Ellie huffs, setting the plate of what had been dinner down on the kitchen counter, the plate that Joel had placed in front of the closed guestroom door last night with a quiet plea for her to eat something. But judging by the untouched look of the food, his plea went unanswered.

“Alright, kid, I’ll check on her. You better get to school.” Ellie nods, though she makes no move to leave, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks at him.

“Do you think she’s gonna, like, be ok?” Joel has to clear his throat before answering her, trying to make his voice sound as certain as he can.

“She’ll be ok, kid. It’s just a– a hard thing– what happened. But she’ll be ok, I’m gonna make sure of it.” Ellie offers him a faint smile, her brow still scrunched up in worry.

“We’ll make sure of it, right? I can help too, y’know.” He has to smile at that, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze as he nods.

“I know, kid. You’re right, we’ll make sure she’s ok. Now you better get to class before you’re late– again.” It’s just enough levity for her smile to broaden, her eyes to roll with a huff, and then Ellie’s out the door, and Joel’s shoulders slump immediately.

When he goes upstairs, Stevie is laying in front of the guestroom, swiping her paw under the closed door in what could only be frustration. She and Stevie have been staying with them for a little over two weeks now. It hadn’t been soon after that day he found her in her shop that she showed up in the middle of the night at his front door, wide-eyed and disheveled. She hadn’t known where else to go after someone had thrown a rock into one of the windows of her house. And then, when he had walked her to her shop the next morning, he had been stunned speechless at the words smeared over the door in thick, black paint.

Witch

Slut

Baby killer

She hasn’t left his house since, and she’s barely left the guestroom he set her up in either.

“Darlin? I’m coming in, alright?” He doesn’t wait for a response, knowing now from prior experience that he’d just be waiting forever. Stevie darts in the second he cracks open the door, making a beeline for the bed where her mom is curled up under a swath of blankets, even though it’s the beginning of September and still plenty warm out.

He kneels down alongside the bed, right next to where her face is half smushed into her pillow, her eyes cracking open to peer at him. Faded dark circles face him, and his heart catches at the sight.

“Hey, darlin. Think we oughta get some food in you, huh?” She lets out a long sigh, blinking hard a few times.

“Not right now, Joel. I’m just– really tired.” That’s become her new favorite phrase, and it scares him more than when she had been endlessly crying. It’s always said on a breathy exhale, like she’s trying to be casual about the fact that she’s been in bed for days, and seems to have no plans of getting out anytime soon. Any emotion is masked behind her flat voice and vacant eyes, and he’d give just about anything for a glimmer of something. Anger, sadness, he’d even take fear right now, just any proof that she’s still there. But there’s nothing, just her owlish stare, and Stevie nuzzling up against the blankets.

“Alright, not right now. Will you drink some water, at least? For me, please?” You’d think that he just asked her to run a marathon with the exhausted huff she lets out, shifting slowly to sit up with her back against the headboard, her head lolling onto her shoulder to look at him. It’s such a far cry from the woman he’s gotten used to, all slow movements and barely-there words as he offers her the glass of water he brought up for her. She takes two little sips then slumps down, handing him back the glass and scrunching her eyes shut.

“Baby, I-I’m really tired– I just need to lay down for a while.” He can feel his frustration rising, but he swallows it down, taking her hand in his and squeezing lightly. She doesn’t squeeze back.

“Ok, darlin, I know you are. Gotta get to work, but you know where I’ll be, right?” All he gets from her is a nod as she lays back down, curling in on her side.

“Think you might get cleaned up today? Bet a shower would feel good.” Another long sigh.

“I just got a shower yesterday.”

“That– that was Monday, darlin, remember? It’s Friday now.” That’s new, and it makes fear kick up in his chest, cold and frantic. She, however, isn’t phased by it, simply shrugging her shoulders beneath the blankets. Stevie stumbles over the blankets up towards her head, nuzzling up against the back of her neck. It’s a small comfort to him, knowing that she isn’t completely alone during the day, just enough reassurance for him to murmur a soft “I’ll be back soon, honey” and get up with a sigh. He takes one more look at her before closing the door behind him, no acknowledgement from her save for another deep sigh.

Things around town have gotten tense, to say the least. Word spread fast about what happened to Maura’s baby, and while it was clear that no one was to blame, just a horrible stroke of luck, it was a whole lot easier to blame the witch for what happened. Now, as Joel walks to the stables everyday, people openly stare at him, murmuring just loud enough for him to hear about how he’s “harboring the murderer.” The only thing that keeps him from knocking their lights out is knowing that it’d only make things worse for her.

People are being particularly vocal this morning, but he gets no relief when he gets to the stables either, seeing Mason and Matthew, Maura’s husband, are getting ready to saddle up for patrol.

“Don’t know why Maria’s letting her walk around free. Oughta be a trial for what she did.” Mason scoffs at Matthew’s words.

“You know why, that’s practically her sister-in-law, that’s why.” Mason’s eyes narrow into slits as Joel approaches them, Matthew’s face reflecting a similar sneer.

“You boys better watch what you say. Especially when it ain’t based in any reality.”

“What do you know about reality, Miller? She’s got you so turned around I bet you believe just about anything she tells you.” Joel can feel anger rising like bile in his throat as he looks at the men, and he keeps his hands on his hips to stop himself from doing something he’ll regret.

“You saying you two are talking about reality? Some fucking story about her, what? Hexing a baby?” He focuses his attention on Matthew before continuing.

“Son, I’m sorry for your loss. I really am. But trying to blame someone for this– this horrible misfortune– it ain’t gonna make that pain go away.” Matthew lets out a bitter laugh at Joel’s words, his eyes flashing wild as he takes a few halting steps toward him.

“I’m not trying to do anything, Miller. I know she did it.” Joel would like to punch him in the teeth, but instead he scoffs at the man, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Let’s just say for a minute that I’m living in the same delusional world that you are. How are you so sure that she did it, huh?” Matthew’s face stretches into a grin that doesn’t meet his bloodshot eyes at that.

“I know she did it– she did it to get back at me.” That makes Joel pause, and Matthew catches it, his grin splitting wider.

“She was jealous, you see. When I wouldn’t leave Maura for her, she got real upset. I guess she’s used to getting what she wants, but I’m a faithful man, and I wouldn’t look twice at that slu–” Joel doesn’t let him finish that sentence, grabbing him by his shoulders and driving him backward until his back slams against the wall of the stables.

“See, now I know you’re full of shit because she’s with me. She’s been with me all fucking summer, so I find your little story pretty hard to believe.”

“Not all the time.” Joel squints at him, keeping him pinned against the wall.

“Come again?”

“She wasn’t with you all the time, not during all her little house visits. Lemme tell you, Maura wasn’t the only one she was checking on.” He does it before he can think, his fist making contact squarely with Matthew’s jaw, the man groaning and doubling over, though Joel is quick to haul him up by his shirt collar.

“Listen to me, you keep my woman’s name out of your mouth. Do you understand me?” Matthew gives him no answer, his eyes squinting slits as Joel shoves him back against the wall. As he turns to leave, his eyes catch Mason’s, the man grinning as he watches the whole thing. The look makes Joel’s stomach twist, and it’s all he can do to walk away from the pair.

He doesn’t care that he’ll miss his shift. He needs to talk to her. Now.

Any patience, any gentleness, any carefulness has dissolved in his need to speak to her, and it clearly catches her by surprise when he comes barreling into her room, giving her shoulder a brusque squeeze that has her wide eyes looking up at him.

“Wha– I thought you were going to work.”

“We need to talk.”

“Joel, I’m really–”

“Tired. I know, but you can’t– I can’t– I need you to talk to me. I know that you’re hurting, but I need you here with me, or else I can’t, I can’t do anything to help.” She sits up at that, brow furrowed.

“What’re you talking about?” He sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed, glancing at Stevie who has curled up on the pillow next to her.

“There’s– talk, around town.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m aware.”

“That isn’t what I meant– I mean– Matthew, Maura’s husband– he’s saying that you–” She cuts him off with a bitter laugh. “No.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say.”

“It’s always the same– they’re always the same– he’s telling people I tried to fuck him, isn’t he?” The blunt crassness of her words coupled with her still blank eyes is unnerving to him. Even now, her voice is flat, no emotion to be found in her cool assessment of him.

“Not in so many words. He said that you had reason to want to– get back at him.”

“And you believe him? You believe that I’d be capable of something like that?”

“I don’t, and I’ll fight this, whatever this is. But I need you here fighting with me. I can’t do this without you– and I can’t keep watching you– disappear right in front of me.” Silence, a heavy pall of it falls between them as she continues to stare at him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

“Maybe they’re right.” It comes out so hoarse, he almost thinks he didn’t hear her right.

“What?”

“Maybe it is my fault, somehow. Maybe I-I– somehow– I– it’s my fault, my fault, all my fault–” Before she can dissolve any further, he takes her face in his hands, holding her steady.

“Don’t go there, darlin. I know you don’t really believe that. Remember what you told me? About when you held her?” Her eyes widen at that, and he feels something like hope lift off in his chest when she nods.

“She was– she was so small, Joel. And it wasn’t right, it was too early– and I knew it.” “And you did everything you could, right?” Another nod, her eyes narrowing into something like focus.

“I-I did. I did. But, it just happened. It was too early, and– and I don’t think anyone could’ve done anything to change it.”

“That’s right. It just happened. Ain’t anyone’s fault. Don’t let them get into your head, darlin. You and I know the truth, and Ellie, and Tommy, and Maria, and– Stevie.” The cat, who had been dozing on her pillow, lifts her head at that, letting out a questioning mrrp. It isn’t much, but her lips twitch into what could become a smile, eventually. He’ll take it.

“I think I’d like to get a shower now.”

…

He could shout from the palpable relief he feels seeing her at the kitchen table, hair still damp from her shower, eating a plate of leftovers. It’s clear to him that she’s still not all there, still quiet, eyes endlessly downturned, movements slow and small. But she’s clean, she’s eating, and she’s even talking a little, and whatever has changed, Joel’s just glad that it did. He sits in the chair next to her, resisting the urge to stay as close to her as he can, afraid that she might float away if he doesn’t, but worried she’ll shut back down if he does. She sets her fork down and sits back in her chair, tilting her head to look at him, worry a perpetual crease between her brows.

“Could you come with me to the shop? I’d like to get a few of my things.” He nods, trying to keep his voice even when he responds, though inside he feels nothing but elation at her question.

“Of course, darlin. You just tell me when, and we’ll go.”

“Could we– could we go now?”

Though it caught him off guard, he scrambled to get them out the door before she changed her mind. He reckons it’s more for him than it is for her, the tight hold he keeps on her hand as they walk through town. For her part, she keeps her chin tilted down, eyes on each of her steps as they pass through the stream of stares and whispers. But she comes to a stuttering stop in front of the apothecary door, and Joel can’t help but smile.

“Dina and Ellie– they cleaned up the– mess. But it wouldn’t come all the way off, so they gave it a new coat of paint.” What once had been a plain white door is now painted a deep green, though it’s beyond Joel how Ellie managed to find that color. For a moment, she’s completely still, considering the door before her. And then, she squeezes his hand, and he knows that these tears of hers are different, no despair to be found.

“I’ll have to thank them for this.”

Ellie has also been going to the shop in the afternoons everyday, taking care of the plants in her absence, another thing that seems to surprise her when she enters the shop, what could be a smile threatening a quiver in her lips. But he swears that the green goes a bit greener, leaves stretching out and lifting as she walks amongst them, reverential fingers checking here and there. She collects a few bottles and tins, a few books, tucking them into her bag, before checking what she explains with a quiet murmur is soap, curing on the counter of the back room. There’s no ease about this for her, he can tell in her skittish movements, her eyes glancing around like she’s waiting for something to happen, and she’s ready to leave in a flash. He hates it, that the space in which he had first met her, the space in which she had always been so at peace, now conjures this kind of fear in her.

They return home as quick as they left, and he can see just how much it took out of her, the heavy slump to her shoulders, the unfocused haze falling back over her eyes as she sits down on the couch in the living room, her bag still slung over one shoulder. She lets him take the bag from her, setting it down on the floor. He moves tentatively, letting out a quiet sigh when she lets him pull her into his side on the couch, his arm wrapping around her tight.

Wordlessly, she leans back in his hold, and he’s stunned into stillness when she tilts her chin up and brushes her lips against his.

“Thank you, Joel. For everything, for dealing with me through all this.”

“I’m not dealing with you. I’m taking care of you, you don’t have to thank me for that.” She presses another kiss to his lips, though he stops her when she tries to deepen it, holding her by her shoulders.

“I don’t– don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

“Please, Joel– I just wanna feel something else for a little while. Just wanna feel you.” She presses a smattering of kisses to what skin she can get to beneath the collar of his shirt, and he sighs, already feeling himself dissolving under her touch. He knows this is probably a terrible idea, that whatever is going on in her head can’t possibly be good, but he also knows that whatever peace he can give her, he will in a heartbeat.

“Hey, hey, easy, darlin. Let’s go upstairs, alright? Lemme take care of you properly.” She lets him lead her upstairs, into his bedroom. She lets him lay her back on his bed, gentle and sweet as he undresses her. And she lets him take over when her trembling fingers fumble at the buttons of his shirt, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can to keep contact with her.

There are no words for this, the way their hands move over each other’s bodies, getting reacquainted with bare skin they had each mapped so well. He settles between the plush of her thighs, pressing a kiss into the soft skin before finally tasting her. She’s an endless tide of sighs, writhing above him as he works her over with his tongue. Her pleasure is his privilege, and he collects every whimper, every scrunch of her brow, every tensed muscle, tokens of what he can do for his woman. He can’t help the way his hips rut into the mattress beneath him, chasing whatever sensation he can find as he takes in the sight of her, the feel of her beneath his mouth. When she comes, it’s an unraveling, a slow tumble that he holds her steady through, his arms wrapped around her hips to hold her up to his mouth as he coaxes her through her pleasure. The first word to leave her lips as she comes down is his name, a breathless plea to come closer that he answers in kind, crawling up the bed to hover over her, their lips catching in a desperate tangle.

Broken groans resound from both of them when he presses his hips forward, a dizzy prickle skittering up his spine as he settles into the heat of her. He lets his lips drag wherever he can, over her collarbone, the arc of her neck, her jaw, giving her a moment, waiting for her word.

“I’m not going to break, Joel.” The tone of her voice, certain and steeled, makes him lean back to catch her gaze.

“I know that, darlin. I know you aren’t.”

“Then don’t treat me like I’m fragile. I want you to fuck me.” Truthfully, he has been treating her as if at any moment she could shatter. But the way that she’s looking at him, the steady heat of her gaze, the tick of her jaw, the way her nails are grazing up and down his back makes him feel like she’s coming back to him, and something inside him snaps at the thought.

He gives her what she wants, a push and pull that has them both sighing with each press of his hips into hers. He wants to leave marks, to stamp something permanent of him into her, and with the harsh grind of his hips, the desperate graze of his teeth along her chest, he thinks he’ll be successful in his desires, drawing whimpers out of her with the force he fucks her with.

Neither of them are making much sense, words slurred into skin, frantic coaxing to see each over the edge.

That’s it, darlin.

S’good, huh?

It’s all yours, honey. Go on, take it.

When she comes again, it’s with a shattered yelp of his name, her fingers pressing little moons into his shoulder blades as she crashes around him. She’s a fucking vision beneath him, tears streaking silver down her cheeks, her face a twist of pleasure, sobs that sing sweet for a change, and it’s enough to send him spiraling after her. He only realizes he’s crying when he sees his own tears smudged against her sternum, his forehead pressed against her collarbone as he catches his breath.

He goes to get up and grab something to clean her up with, but she doesn’t let him get far, pulling him back down by his shoulders and holding him against her.

“Can we just stay like this for a little while, please?” The sigh he lets out at her question melts him even further into her, his arms wrapping her up and pulling her into a closer tangle. They’re a mess, sweat-damp skin sticking slick and his spend dripping onto the sheets beneath them, but he reckons he needs this as much as she does, burying his face in the junction of her neck and inhaling her deeply.

She relaxes in his arms, muscles going slack against his, her fingers trailing shapes across his shoulder blades. He feels like for the first time in ages, he’s got her, he’s really got her.

…

Ellie won’t stop staring at her. The kid had stopped dead in her tracks when she got home and saw her and Joel in the kitchen, quietly fixing dinner. Joel had quickly shook his head at her, a silent plea to not make a big deal out of it. But if there’s one thing Ellie is not, it’s subtle, and she’s been staring at her for most of the meal like she might disappear if she takes her eyes away from her. If it’s bothering her, however, she doesn’t show it, still a bit hazy around the edges as they eat, leaving Joel to muster up whatever conversation he can, which is to say that most of the meal is spent in slightly tense silence while Ellie continues to stare at her, much to his chagrin.

“I want to thank you, Ellie. I got to see today how you’ve been taking care of the shop. I really appreciate it and– just, thank you, kid.” Ellie’s eyes widen at her words, before softening with an emphatic nod.

“Yeah– I mean, of course. You, like, taught me well, and stuff. And I want you to know, if anyone else tries to mess with you, I will personally fuck them up–”

“Ellie.”

“What? I’m just saying, geez.” Ellie lets out a huff at Joel, while he’s about ready to give her another lecture about her language, though his annoyance dissolves when his woman lets out a light laugh at the girl’s exclamation.

“Thanks, kid, but I don’t want you fucking anyone up for me. That’s not gonna be necessary, alright?” Ellie gives her a sheepish smile at that, a light moment that relieves whatever tightness had been in the air. But just as soon as they all seem to slump back into ease, the sound of someone knocking on the front door echoes through the house.

Joel excuses himself, a wordless plea for her and Ellie to stay put. He’s admittedly surprised to see that it’s Maria standing on his porch, a steely look on her face and her hands on her hips.

“We have a problem.”

“That son of a bitch started it.”

“I don’t care who started it, Joel. I’m gonna finish it, all of it. I’ve called a town meeting for tomorrow night. This can’t keep going on. It’s— people are asking me questions that I can’t answer. And I know Mason is getting people more worked up the longer this goes on.”

“Maria, she’s— she’s not ready for this.”

“She’s gonna have to be. I’m worried, Joel. The longer we let people talk, the more out of hand this’ll get and— I wouldn’t put it past some of those men to—try something.” He feels a cool prickle shoot up the back of his neck at Maria’s words, his mind going back to the night of the dance, the way Mason had grabbed her, and he knows that Maria is right, that something needs to be done now before it escalates.

“There are people on her side too, Joel. It’s just– there’s so much talk going around that everyone’s too afraid to say anything otherwise. If we can hear her side, I know people will come forward. But if she stays holed up like this, people are just gonna keep talking.”

“You’re right, Maria.” He hadn’t been expecting it, the sound of her voice startling him as he turns to look at her padding up behind him. She places a firm palm between his shoulder blades, a presence, a confirmation.

“Just tell me what time tomorrow, and I’ll be there.”

...........................

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nightcourtreader · 7 months

Text

Day by day I’m solidified in my belief that Azriel’s & Gwyn’s book is next rather than it being Elain and Lucien’s. I just think in my opinion it makes more sense that elucien will be last. Though I could still be wrong. 🤷🏽‍♀️ I would like to to be known this is long and everything stated are MY opinions.

SJM said it’s obvious who the next book is about after the readers read acosf. Azriel was a prominent figure in acosf. Way more than Elain was and that was shocking to me. Based off how nesta & Elain’s relationship was in the earlier books.

Yes Elain did get character development a little bit in acosf but she still wasn’t a prominent figure, she was once again pushed to the background. And I get that because it was nesta’s story but we still got so much more of feysand, Azriel, emrie, Gwyn, and even eris over Elain.

In a recent interview, I think it was the one last year. A girl asked SJM about having Elain and Azriel’s book being next, I forgot the form of the question. But I just remember SJM saying that “we will get Elain in some form.” That doesn’t sound like the next MC to me. And she didn’t even mention nothing about Azriel at all. SJM is known not to say too much about her books and spoil them. The way she was answering questions in this recent interview in September, she doesn’t like to spoil anything. So for her to say you will get Elain in some form and not say you will get Elain AND Azriel in some form and she just didn’t mention Azriel at all makes me just believe that it’s Azriel that’s going to be next and they’re def not getting a book together.

Ive seen so many people say “why would SJM give Azriel a book over Elain. She wouldn’t do that.” But how would we know that? Chaol got a book in the middle of the TOG series over everyone other characters, why can’t Azriel? It’s already a proven fact that the series is not just about the Archeon sisters since SJM has 2 more books planned about a couple coming together and there’s only 1 Archeon sister left. No matter how hard people try to argue with that fact. She mentioned how Azriel’s story is something she’s excited about writing and not just about his bed habits. So why is it far fetched he will get a book next? I also like the idea of having the series start with an Archeon sister and ending with one.

Then the bonus chapters. Azriel got one. He’s also a part of a second one for hofas. I saw an argument that well Cassian got a bonus chapter for acomaf and he didn’t get a book until acosf (or part of one). I think SJM did it like that because she wasn’t done with feysand’s story. It wouldn’t make sense to give Cassian/nesta a book when she wasn’t done writing feysand’s story in my opinion. Plus the first 3 books with Feyre pov was already planned before having a sisters book spin off.

I also think acofas was a perfect book to connect the series to Cassian’s pov & nesta’s pov to get the readers away from feysand’s pov. And her bonus chapter for Azriel is also a good example of that too. She wouldn’t put so much emphasis on Azriel’s bonus chapter for no reason in her interviews. Now that feysand’s & nessians story has been told, it makes more sense to have the next mc have a bonus chapter so we can get inside of the next MC’s head like we did with Cassian & nesta.

And I do get the fact that there are so many plot points that are unresolved in acowar, especially with koschei, but to me koschei is a last book level threat like how Maeve and erawan were in TOG. The two caused problems throughout the series but they weren’t defeated until the very last book of the series. That’s a pattern of SJM. In acowar (feysand’s last full novel) hybern was defeated. I already mentioned TOG. In Crescent city 3, I think she’ll have Bryce and Hunt defeat the asteri and hofas is the last book for Bryce & hunt’s story. To me that makes sense plot wise. Elain and Lucien are the only ones connected to koschei from the main characters that’s left.

Plus koschei was using braillyn to do his dirty work for him because he can’t leave his lake. I’m pretty sure he has tricks up his sleeve because I secretly think he and Merrill are working together since he whispers on the wind and she can listen to whispers on the wind (and that connects her to Gwyn. Especially since Merrill is suppose to be clotho’s right hand & Clotho appeared at the end of Azriel bonus chapter) But koschei’s back to square 1. I don’t think he poses a great risk at the moment. He needs to regroup and do another plan.

I know everybody wants the spring court to be back up and running and it needs to be back up and running before the next major war happens. SJM has brought it up too much for it not to happen and for it not to be important. But to me spring isn’t really the pressing matter, the autumn court is because of Beron trying to align with koschei like an idiot.

After the night court, the autumn court was the second most talked about court in acosf, then spring was the third. I understand that we have plots from acowar but we also can’t forget to acknowledge the plots that happen in acosf. We also got to see more of eris. I know Lucien has ties to the autumn court but he literally doesn’t fuck with anyone in the autumn court besides his mom and I don’t think he even sees her at all. Lucien calls eris a snake so Lucien isn’t on good terms with them so I really don’t connect him to autumn as much.

And until Beron is out the door, which I’m hoping that happens next book and we get eris as high lord, the autumn court is not going to be in good hands. And I really think Gwyn has autumn court ties to explore 👀. I’m a firm believer she has no spring court ties what so ever and she’s just connected to autumn.

And SJM tends to have her characters hit rock bottom in the acotar series or like them having an emotional conflict. When nesta had her book, since she was the prominent figure in acosf, it’s obvious that she hit rock bottom before acosf came out. She isolated herself. She drunk all the time and slept with men to keep her powers at bay. I don’t think we’ve really seen Elain hit rock bottom yet or have a prominent emotional conflict. Like it’s obvious Elain is suffering in silence just like her sister were, Im 100% certain Elain isn’t 100% happy, but to me shes a lot more chipper than her sisters were at the start of her journey from what we’ve seen.

At the end of acowar she was like happy and was like the world is going to need more gardens and she was looking bright for the future, and I didn’t expect that since what all happen in acowar. She’s snapping back at her sisters in acosf. Trying to advocate for herself as well. With Feyre we see in the beginning of acomaf she was depressed, not eating well, not really regulating her emotions well. We see how nesta was, I know Elain already went through that phase in acowar. But I’m just not 100% convinced that Elain is ready for her own journey just yet.

Now we see with Azriel, he’s just all over the place. To me he’s definitely having emotional conflict when it comes to the mating bond. Trying to ignore the whole thing about Mor knowing that needs to be addressed. Questioning if the cauldron got it wrong. The whole thing with Elain. Him wanting a mating bond. To me Azriel has hit rock bottom emotionally as well. A little different from both nesta and Feyre but to me all the same. Especially seeing now how his bothers has a known mating bond besides him. Romantically, since acotar is more romantically driven than plot driven it makes sense for him to be next. Especially with the plot with the Illyrians, which I think has been a long time coming as well.

Then just imagine Elain seeing that? Everybody else with their mating bonds & happy. How would that make her feel, I think it would make her hit rock botton and have that emotional conflict especially with the whole choice thing and her being stubborn, but we still don’t know because we haven’t gotten her pov but guess whose pov we do have and know who’s struggling? Azriel.

And no I don’t get the argument that Elain hasn’t gotten a bonus chapter because her visions will spoil it. Doesn’t make sense to me because SJM can write it without Elain having visions in the middle of it but still get her insight. Elain also said she needed time to ge reacquainted with her powers in acosf, so it’s not 100% certain she’s still getting visions anyway. No one can confirm or deny because we haven’t seen Elain really and no one has been around her enough to notice since everyone’s focus was on feysand & nessian.

I personally don’t think there’s a valid excuse as to why SJM didn’t give Elain a bonus chapter over Azriel. If people would question why would SJM give Azriel a book over Elain we need to question why she gave him a bonus chapter over Elain.

#gwynriel #acosf #elucien #elain archeron #gwyneth berdara #azriel bonus chapter #azriel shadowsinger #pro gwynriel

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marvelnatswhore · 1 year

Text

Rainy days

Natasha romanoff X reader~hurt/comfort

Request: hey, i was wondering if u are taking any request for nat x female r... if u are, can u please make a story even just a short one about r having one of those days where she doesn't wanna get out of bed and like really drained because r has depression and nat, her girlfriend, comforts her? thank you so much. <3

A/N: I’m so so sorry I didn’t do this sooner i know you requested september last year and I have no idea if you’ll even see this but thank you for the request, I lost this awhile ago but i really liked this prompt so thank you <3

and sorry this is short

Warnings: mentions of depression

wc: 870

✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧⧗✧

“Morning.” Natasha said in a low yawn, having just woken up. You felt her elbow brush against your face as she reached to wipe the sleep from her eyes.

You hardly slept. Of course you didn’t but you wouldn’t worry Natasha, so you pulled your lips into a soft smile and rolled into her arms whispering, “Good morning.”

“Anything you want to do today, baby?” Natasha asks, smiling at you tucked in her arms as you felt your heart sink a little at the question.

You shook your head, rolling back over to stare at the trim along your windows, watching the small drops of a belated storm ripple down leaving streaks across the glass.

You didn’t want to think about it. One of those days when it felt like a headache had engulfed you and was suckling every ounce of energy you had left. The numb, empty feeling that throbbed in your head, a feeling Natasha knew all too well.

“Want to talk, detka?” She whispers, her hand brushes your cheek as she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you shake your head in response. “Actually, I'm a little tired, Nat. I think I'll just sleep for a bit.”

You both knew you wouldn’t be sleeping, but Natasha would never push you.

“I’ll let you sleep then, Detka. Maybe I’ll go make us some tea.” She pressed a kiss to the back of your head before tucking you in and leaving you in the dark as she shut the door softly.

You’re alone in your bed now and it’s quiet. Even though a part of you wishes Natasha hadn’t left, you needed the silence.

You could sleep for a bit, or at least try, but even that felt like too much.

The past week had drained you completely, it felt like you spent every day holding yourself together and it was finally coming apart. everything was becoming too much.

You were glad the door was closed and you were grateful for the dark. Natasha wouldn’t hear the sound of quiet sobbing, muffled as you buried yourself further under the blankets, letting the pillow beneath you soak up your tears.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that for. You weren’t sure it mattered, everything you felt and everything you pent up came out in a flood.

You didn't notice the clouds outside becoming dark rain that poured down on your roof and against your windows, ironically it felt like the sky was agreeing with you.

When you finally began to calm, the heaviness in your chest grew lighter and your voice didn’t shake with each breath.

You lay there for a while, looking at nothing and thinking of everything. There was a soft knock at the door and you heard it shutting a moment later. You didn’t move to see, you could hear Natasha shuffling in the dimly lit room, a shiver crept up your spine as your blanket was lifted and the cool air met your warm body.

The mattress dipped when Natasha climbed under the covers, and you felt her press against you.

“Nat?” You asked softly, empty tears staining your voice as you wondered why she was back in bed with you.

“It’s raining.” She whispers, wrapping her arms around your torso and interlocking her hand with yours.

“I think today’s a good day to stay in bed.”

You turned back to her, knowing what she meant by that, she’ll stay with you for as long as it takes, it’s her way of telling you how much she loves you.

“Thank you.” You whispered, burying your face in her neck and finding a warmth you didn’t know you needed. “Anything for you.” she answered, pressing her lips to your own.

#i felt so bad not finishing this #anon i hope you're ok #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #fics #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #im tired :/

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vasyandii · 8 months

Text

Phayvanh "Nak" Sotsvahn 🐉

UPDATED INTRO!! (Old Ver.)

GENERAL INFORMATION

Status: ACTIVE

Year of Birth: 2000 (Aged 20)

Day of Birth: September 13

Place of Birth: Vientiane, Laos

Nationality: Laotian

Race: Lao

Languages Spoken: Lao, Thai, English, Russian

Occupation: Tactical Assault Operator, Close Quarters Combat Specialist (Chimera Member)

Affiliation(s):

-Golden Triangle Cartel (Formerly)

-Lao People's Armed Forces (Formerly; Dishonorably Discharged)

-Allegiance

-Chimera

Physical Appearance

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Black

Height: 5’2”/159 cm

Build: Lean Muscular

Scars: None

Tattoos/ Markings: Large tattoos on left upper and Center of back

Biography

Born in Vientiane, Laos. Living the first 15 years of her life off her uncle's fortune, partaking in the trafficking of illicit narcotics at a young age. The two were close due to them being family, not having many friends due to her uncle's line of work. Enlisted in the LPAF by her Uncle's wishes to "Carve a better path for herself". Was not liked by her peers for her cocky attitude, overly aggressive tactics, and habit of prioritizing her personal safety over the team.

After 3 years of service in the LPAF, excelling in Close Quarters Combat, dishonorably discharged due to repeated physical altercations among teammates. Spent the next 6 months back to working for Kapano Vang despite his reluctance, eventually fleeing to Urzikstan after an argument with Vang about difference in beliefs, multiple people injured; their relationship has been strained ever since. During her time her path crossed with Nikolai, in search of work she signed a long term contract with Chimera, with one year of service.

Shown to exhibit signs of social anxiety and difficulty forming close relationships around people her age. Inherited Kapano Vang's short temper in combat, though more relaxed outside of it. Developed a bond with Syd, seeing her as an older sister. Often paired up with Sebastian Krueger in order to keep them both in line.

Skills and Abilities

Fighting Style: Muay Thai, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu

Weapon(s): Whatever is heavy

Distinct Weapon: FN SCAR , Dual Push Blades

Shortcomings: Overly aggressive tactics, focus on personal safety, short temper

FAMILY

Familial Status: Adoptive Niece

Siblings: None

Mother: Adoptive sister of Kapano Vang (whereabouts unknown, records not found/withheld)

Uncle: Kapano “Naga” Vang; (Former warlord drug trafficker, formerly in Warsaw Pact)

Relationship with Family: Nak still idolizes her uncle to an extent, but the more that she's out in the world,the more she realizes that he isn't a good person. Nak’s mother wasn’t present in life. Her uncle took her in after mother wasn’t able to care for her. Naga trained her at a very young age; he thought it was best if she was strong in their lifestyle.

Pet: Cat person, never was allowed to have pets but she would throw scraps of food to strays.

PERSONALITY

Myers Briggs Type: ESTJ-T Nak is an extroverted introvert, she likes and enjoys talking to people, however it drains her energy quickly since she's not used to talking to people in such a casual manner. Things like talking business she’s more used to.

Adaptable: A quick thinker, Nak is able to carry out missions by finding creative solutions to make sure her operations are successful. Outside of the battlefield her adaptability allows her to have better communication with people, even with her social anxiety.

Pragmatic: Nak strives to make the most effective solutions so it’s easier on her in the future. Her decision making skills ensure that she’ll survive in the field and outside of it.

Responsible: Living on her own, Nak is responsible, she can’t relax unless all her work is done beforehand. As she starts forming close relationships with people, she realizes that she likes taking care of people.

Negative Traits

Stubborn: Starting out Nak isn’t a very good teamplayer. She doesn’t like others telling her what to do or how to do things so she’s stubborn in a way that she’s adamant about what she wants but adaptable with what methods are needed.

Judgemental: Her formative years with Naga didn’t allow her to trust people, because of the Golden Triangle Cartel she has a habit of being overly critical of others.

Paranoid Perfectionist: Nak is self-demanding, she doesn’t take failure lightly. This leads to her paranoia of not being properly prepared. She becomes aggressive out of frustration if her ability isn’t to her liking.

Favourites

Colour: Golden Yellow

Food: Fried eggs

Drink: Lemon iced Tea

Flower: Plumeria

Animal: Giant Anteaters

TRIVIA

Nak is a shortened version of “phayanak” the mythical water serpent in Laos, it’s also the Lao pronunciation of “Naga” which is her Uncle’s name on the field.

Her face paint draws reference to how snake teeth are shown in Phayanak statues. There are multiple snake motifs in her design. Is the design practical? No, she just likes standing out in that way.

Nak cuts her own bangs (long blunt bangs) she doesn’t trust anyone with cutting them.

Has a lot of upper body and lower body strength; she can lift things heavier than her and calisthenics skills (handstands, full planches, etc.)

Nak is significantly more patient to small children than adults because she can understand why they would do the things they do.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #art #cod mw oc #digital art #original character #phayvanh nak sotsvahn #cod oc #cod #oc intro #oc info #ocs #Cod oc: Nak #Vasyandii Art #cod art #call of duty art #COD fanart

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sailtomarina · 8 months

Text

Birthday breakfast

“Shhhhh, let her sleep.”

“But it’s time to get up!”

Hermione smiled, eyes still shut and clinging to the vestiges of sleep. She felt wrung out and deliciously sore from when Draco had woken her up at midnight to give her the first birthday gift of the day. She wasn’t sure what time it was now, but considering her heavy eyelids, it was probably still far before noon.

“Scorpius, get back here!”

Slam!

She kept her breathing slow and steady despite the door knocking into the wall and the weight that landed at the base of the bed.

“If she doesn’t wake up, then how can she eat breakfast?”

It took all her willpower to not chuckle at the pout in the little boy’s voice. At eight-years-old, Scorpius reminded her so much of his father, full of demands and seemingly without a concern in the world. Hermione knew better, of course. Her adopted son had experienced grief too early with the loss of his mother. His resilience was a testament to the love lavished on him by Astoria and Draco long before Hermione had come along.

She heard the soft patter of footsteps. A second weight dropped the mattress even further. Hermione knew Draco wasn’t fooled by her little act.

“I suspect she’ll wake up soon, my star. The food will keep until then.” Humor laced his words. Hermione could just imagine Scorpius’ lip jutting out in response.

“But—”

“But,” Draco emphasized, “We could try a spell to help her wake.”

Well, this would be interesting.

“A spell? Please, Dad, show me!” Scorpius bounced in place, sending shockwaves through the bed. Perhaps they should consider casting some permanent stabilization charms.

“Okay, repeat after me: tempus passus!”

Hermione nearly snorted at the fake incantation. Tempus passus, really? That was the best he could come up with?

“Tempus passus!”

“Now wave your wrists like so.”

The bed shook once more with the force of Scorpius’ movements, one of his hands smacking her on the thigh.

“Wait for it…”

Hermione fluttered her lashes, then twitched. With a groan, she rolled over and stretched her arms out.

“It’s working!”

“Scorpius?” She didn’t have to fake the scratchiness in her throat. She could desperately use some coffee.

“Happy birthday, Mum!”

That opened her eyes faster than any bang of the door or jolt to her mattress. The sight of a grinning Scorpius filled her vision, any hints of reservation completely absent.

“Mum”. He’d called her “Mum”.

“Oh, Scorpius, honey—” Her words cut off with the force of the young boy’s skinny arms wrapping around her. Behind him, Draco wore a gentle smile, which she matched with her own.

She hadn’t dared hope for this day. In her mind, Astoria would always be Scorpius’ mother. Hermione loved him, of course, but she knew better than to expect she’d ever take the woman’s place in their hearts. Even though Astoria had passed while Scorpius was barely old enough to remember her, she had already left her impression behind, that of a mother and wife who loved with all her being and regretted nothing but leaving her boys behind. The best Hermione could hope for would be to carve out a place of her own and bring them the joy they deserved.

“Happy birthday, love.” Draco joined them in their embrace, all-encompassing and reassuring in his warmth. She could have stayed like this all morning.

Scorpius had other ideas.

He wiggled and pushed, ending their hug with a cry of “Birthday breakfast!”

“There’d better be coffee,” Hermione teased. They were all too aware of her pre-caffeine grumpiness.

“Here, Mum!” A tray was shoved into her lap, set with steaming coffee, a carafe of pumpkin juice with three glasses, and a full English breakfast several times the size of her usual morning meal.

She raised an inquiring brow, which Draco met with a knowing smirk. “How about a breakfast picnic for three?”

Today, of all days, Hermione set aside her rule against food in bed. There was much to celebrate, least of which being her own birthday.

WC 678

DHRMonth Prompt: Week 3 - Celebrations, September 19 - Birthday

Cross-posted to AO3

I’ve always considered Hermione’s birthday as set at the perfect time of year, just late enough to see the start of my favorite season with its turning colors and color evenings, but still warm enough to only need a light cover in the day’s sunshine. I’m excited to see all the artwork and fics centering on our birthday girl!

#dramionemonth #dramione month #dramione #dhr fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger #draco malfoy #scorpius malfoy

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leveloneandup · 10 months

Text

Q&A: World Cup champ Tobin Heath on USWNT’s 3-peat expectations, Megan Rapinoe’s retirement

During the 2023 World Cup, Tobin Heath is doing something a little different.

For the first time in more than a decade, she’ll be watching the competition from afar after winning World Cup titles with Team USA in 2015 and 2019. Heath hasn’t played in a game since undergoing knee surgery in September.

So instead, she and Christen Press — a fellow two-time World Cup champ recovering from a knee injury — will break it down on their new digital series, The RE—CAP Show, which is produced by the lifestyle brand RE—INC, founded by Heath, Press, Megan Rapinoe and Meghan Klingenberg in 2019. Through the content arm of RE—INC, Heath hopes to provide the kind of analysis she’d want to see and “reimagine the way women are seen and experienced in sports.”

#tobin heath #uswnt #wwc 2023 #article #interview #for the win

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immortal-imagines · 10 months

Text

Sabotage - Part 1

Summary: The start of a new uni year brings new classmates, new lessons and a new professor.

Parts: 1, 2, 3 (to be continued)

(professor!Joel x Reader)

Warnings: mentions of smut, alcohol, swearing

Word Count: 1,435

A/N: I’m starting a professor Joel series, which I’m having loads of fun writing so far! Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future parts.

It was the first day back after what felt like forever. A summer to remember they’d said. You’d had enough alcohol in your body to forget the year let alone the last couple of months. It was all change this term though. Taking on a Masters had never been something you’d considered, until you finished undergrad and had no clue what came next. Another year of lectures, why the fuck not? An MA in English lit? Sure.

You had one friend who decided to take on the challenge with you, Kelsey. You’d picked a flat together just outside of campus – nothing special, but bigger than you expected to get for your budget. Living room, kitchen, pretty standard and brimming with party possibilities. Your bedroom was somehow the biggest. You weren’t sure how you’d managed to wrangle that one, but you weren’t going to complain.

The UK rarely got warm days, especially in September, but for some reason the universe decided move in day was going to be a million degrees. You and Kelsey heaved box after box up the stairs of your new apartment complex. Sweaty was an understatement. And of course you were on the third floor with no lift.

“Do you… do you think we’ll ever feel cool again?” Kelsey huffed, wheeling what you hoped was the last suitcase through the door. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, wrinkling your nose at the amount of moisture that came off. “Please tell me there’s nothing else?” No sooner had you said those words, the door to the flat next door opened, revealing a tanned, toned looking Ken doll of a man. All muscles, abs and blonde.

Kelsey straightened up, frantically brushing fly-aways down and tugging at her now damp tank top.

The guy leant on the door frame of his flat and flashed you both a Ryan Gosling style grin. “You ladies need a hand?”

You had to restrain yourself from an eye roll. Sure, he was hot, but it was textbook pickup lines. Plus you were way too hot for sex. Kelsey didn’t seem to agree. She put on her best sex eyes, biting her lip.

If you weren’t careful you’d end up unpacking this whole flat yourself.

“I think we’re…”

“I could use some help,” Kelsey interrupted you. She gave you a quick, stern look, before looking back at the guy.

“I got some help in here,” the guy gestured to his apartment, looking Kelsey up and down.

“One sec,” Kelsey held up a finger to him, turning to you, whispering, “I’ll love you forever if you let me go with him. I’ll help unpack later, I promise.”

You shrugged. “Have fun. But if you’re not back in two hours I’m calling the police and assuming you’ve been murdered.”

Kelsey beamed. “Thanks, you’re the best.”

The guy held his hand out, which she took, and they disappeared into his flat.

You looked at all the boxes strewn around the living room. That was a job for tomorrow, when you didn’t feel like you were going to melt. You took your suitcase and dragged it into your bedroom. At least this room could be unpacked.

Just as you unzipped it, you heard the unmistakable moan then thud of what you assumed was Kelsey’s back against the wall. Shower. You would have a cold shower first.

Kelsey returned an hour later, looking suitably satisfied. You’d had a shower, unpacked most of your stuff and were now lying on the sofa with a handheld fan directly on your face. You raised you head as she walked in.

“Any good?”

“Useful,” was all she said, before disappearing into the bathroom.

You took that as she’ll be spending a lot of time next door.

The first lecture of a new course always felt like starting school all over again. A bunch of new people in a classroom not really knowing what they’re doing there. Kelsey had decided that lecture number one is always useless and opted instead to stay in bed. You didn’t argue with her. She was the kind of girl who walked to the beat of her own drum. An admirable if slightly irresponsible trait. But who were you to judge?

So you really did feel like the new girl. You sat at a desk relatively close to the back. It was still early so all the good seats hadn’t been taken yet. Just a few keen beans right at the front, then one other guy on your row.

You rummaged in your bag, with that awful feeling that you’d forgotten something. Shit, laptop. And you didn’t have a notebook. Not a good start. You contemplated asking the guy on your row if he had a spare piece of paper, but he looked so blazed that you’re not sure he would even know what class he was in. Instead, you figured it was early enough in the class to rush to the nearest supply cupboard, which you hoped was in plains sight.

You grabbed your bag and rushed to the door, not seeing the figure walking in.

“Fuck!” You collided with his body, the coffee in his hand now all down your dress. You looked up to see who the poor student was whose drink you were now wearing and your heart sank.

This man looked close to 50, but a very good 50. His hair was tousled and he had a strong jawline, accentuated by his rough beard. There were mature students, of course, but the feeling in your stomach told you this wasn’t a student.

The man took a couple steps back, glaring down at you with a dark look in his eyes. “Class hasn’t started yet.” His Southern drawl caught you off guard. American? Your body couldn’t decide if it was anxious, sick or horny – or a combination of the three.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. I was just… I forgot my laptop. I can get you another coffee,” you rambled.

The man pushed past you, setting his bag on the desk. He wasn’t dressed like your previous professors had. He was wearing a dark blue t-shirt, tight around his arms, and jeans. He took a pad out of his bag, ripped out a couple of pages and held them in your direction. You took them, unsure whether you should go back to your seat or go to the bathroom and clean up the mess your dress was now in. He decided for you.

“Sit.”

The embarrassment that now engulfed you was unbearable. You stank of coffee and your dress that was once red was now slightly brown and damp. And he hadn’t even asked if you were alright. Dick, you thought. What a shitty term this is going to be.

Other students were now filing in, so you went back to your original desk, thankful you were in the back. It didn’t stop people from turning to look at you. This was your new reputation. Fuck, why couldn’t Kelsey have been here? You envied her choice to stay in bed and wished you’d done the same.

“Now that most of you are here, I’ll start. I’m Professor Miller. I’m taking your English lit classes this semester. Maybe next ‘f you’re lucky.”

Who did this asshole think he was? Attractive, sure. Asshole, definitely. A rage started to burn in your stomach. You’d apologised to him.

“’f you’ve done the summer reading you’ll know we’re covering The Great Gatsby this term. I dunno what it’s about. Never read it. Your first assignment is to write me an essay explaining the plot.”

He leant forward, hands on his desk. “Any questions?”

You frowned. Maybe another degree was a mistake. This seemed like it was going to be a massive waste of time.

“You,” he gestured in your direction. “’s there a problem?

“No, I…”

“Good. This isn’t a class to sleep through. ‘f you’re not gonna take it seriously, get out.”

He gave you a look. It was a look that said ‘don’t fuck with me’. The rage that had been bubbling inside you was now full on erupting. Did he really think he could humiliate you in front of a new class and not get something in return? Your eyes quickly flickered to his hand. No ring.

You smirked, folding your arms. Heat settled at your core. You thought you saw some of that in his eyes. They were black, rage mixed with something else. You held his stare for a moment longer. He was the first to break.

Professor Miller, you don’t know what you’re in for.

#Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #professor!joel #prof!joel #tlou #smut #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro imagine #pedro pascal smut

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callsignspark · 10 months

Note

Bradley and Mary

straddling your partner's thighs

look at what you've done, anon. I've gone and written something ridiculously long.

send me a physical intimacy prompt for any of my Dagger, Sword & Shield couples!

your lap is my safe place - part i

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, uterine cancer (discussions of a terminal illness and treatment), death due to cancer (established universe death), grief over losing a parent, funerals, panic attacks, vomiting, you don’t need to read Mar[r]y Me to read and understand this but you should anyway

word count: 7.1k

part ii - coming soon

note: originally, this was supposed to be a short, simple prompt answer - one part sad and one part smutty - but it's gotten extremely out of hand due to my inability to be brief. so this is part one (the sad part), and the smutty sequel will be coming (ha) sometime early next week. and when I say this part is sad, I mean sad. some of this is very much based on my experience with loved ones who have had cancer and/or were terminally ill. it was very therapeutic to write, even if I did cry a whole lot.

Tuesday, September 3, 2002 | 06:35 A.M.

Bradley wakes up to his alarm clock blaring in his ear, feeling like he’s going to throw up, which is weird for him. Mav says that he’s never met anyone with a stronger stomach. Eighteen-year-olds have stomachs of steel, his mom jokes when she’s having a good day.

He stumbles down the hall and hangs his head over the toilet. Nothing comes up. The nausea goes away in a few minutes, but his gut still feels twisted. He brushes his teeth and decides the likely culprit is the new recipe Mav attempted for dinner last night. He choked down a few bites of the horrible fish tacos before his uncle called it a failure and ordered pizza.

Back in his room, it doesn’t take him long to finish getting ready, pulling on his new first-day-of-school outfit and shaping his mustache. He doesn’t care what Slider says; it’s looking good, much thicker than when he started growing it in April.

“It’s my first day of senior year, my last first day of school. Until the academy, anyway. But with the summer training, the first day of classes probably won’t even feel like a first day.”

His father’s official Lieutenant-JG portrait stares back at him. Unanswering as he fixes his hair.

“Mom is getting worse… She’s getting weaker; I don’t think we have very long before she has to go into hospice. I really want her to get better - I wished for it - but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

He swallows hard and fights back tears, remembering his birthday just a few months ago. Everything hadn’t seemed quite as bad then as it is now.

“I hope she can make it to Christmas. I almost have enough money saved up to buy her that pair of earrings that look like the ones Princess Diana had at her wedding. They’re not real pearls like hers, obviously, but the lady at the jewelry counter told me they’re replicas, so I think she’ll like them anyway.”

Brown eyes identical to his own stare back at him. Hints of the mischievous, prank-loving man visible in the polite smile captured. The old photo is carefully tucked into the edge of his mirror; it was his mom’s first, but she gave it to him when he was eight. She had caught him staring at it every day for a week, quietly talking to it about his day.

“Wish me luck, Goose. It’s gonna be a big year.”

Downstairs, he’s greeted with the second weird thing of the day. First, his stomach, and now his mom is flipping pancakes. She’s hardly had the strength to use the bathroom by herself in the last six months, but this morning, she’s standing at the stove, singing along to the radio, and making his favorite breakfast.

She’s always said that bad things happen in threes, but strange things happen in pairs.

He thinks she might be right, but if she feels good, he’s not complaining. She never feels good anymore.

“There he is! Oh, Mav! Look at my baby boy, all grown up and ready for his last year of high school!”

“Ma…” He groans, and without prompting, he bends down to let her kiss and pinch his cheeks like he always does.

He’s not sure how many good days she has left, so he tries his best to behave and make her life easier.

He doesn't complain when she asks him to take the garbage out after he already did; her memory hasn’t been as good since she got sick. He keeps the anger inside when everyone forgets his baseball games because she had chemo; it’s more important for Mav and Ice to take care of her than to watch him throw a ball around. He even offered up his college fund to help pay for another round of treatment. He was denied before he could even finish the suggestion, but he just wants her to get better more than anything in the world.

Needs her to get better.

She sets a stack of pancakes in front of him, and again, he has the urge to cry when she kisses the top of his head. Her perfume takes over his senses, and if he closes his eyes, it’s almost like he’s little again.

A massive stack of fluffy, perfectly round pancakes, slathered in butter and syrup, filled with his mom’s love.

Mav sitting across the table from him, drinking the worst black coffee to exist on the planet.

His mom humming off-key at the stove, her beautiful, golden hair swishing as she gets into a song.

But then he opens his eyes, and he’s not little anymore.

The pancakes are still covered with butter and enough syrup to give him a cavity, but they’re not the same. They’re flat and mishappen; her arms aren’t very strong anymore, so Mav must’ve had to help her.

Mav still sits across from him, terrible black coffee in his mug, but now he looks old. Too old for someone in his thirties. They’ve been lucky he’s been able to be here this past year. After Mom got sick, Ice and Viper pulled some strings to get him assigned to a shore-duty desk job. Bradley knows he hates it. Can see it in the way he watches every plane that passes overhead - civilian, military, it doesn’t matter - his fingers twitching to be the one controlling the powerful engines. But he never complains, is steady and strong, taking Mom to appointments and Bradley to school.

His mom is humming at the stove for the first time in a long time, somehow more in tune than she’s ever been. He wants to make a joke about how the treatments must have fixed her tone-deafness, but it would just make everyone sad. A reminder that it’s the only thing her treatment has fixed.

It’s taken everything else away.

Her skin, once bright and youthful, is now dull and gray-toned. Her energy has been zapped; she doesn’t even have it in her to make it through their Sunday movie nights. Her body is frail. She was always slim, but now she borders on gaunt, her appetite nonexistent most of the time. Her hair was the first thing to go, a rotation of brightly colored scarfs and hats replacing the blonde strands that used to reach her shoulders. He looks at today’s choice. A bright red scarf that matches the white sundress and red cardigan she’s pulled on.

She looks pretty.

“You look pretty, mom.”

It grabs the attention of both adults, the two of them staring long enough that he squirms in his chair.

“Thank you, baby.” Her pleased smile tells him it was the right thing to say. “You don’t want your pancakes?”

“I do. They look great, but my stomach kinda hurt when I got up, so I don’t want to eat right now. I’m sorry. If you put them in the fridge, I can eat them for dinner.”

“Oh, don’t be silly! It’s a special day; we’re going to have something special for dinner! Something that Mav won’t be making.” The teasing smile she sends to the table makes the knot in his stomach unwind some. It makes him feel good enough to take a small bite.

The shape is wrong, and they’re not fluffy enough, but the taste is the same. The flavor melts over his tongue. The pressure in his chest, the one that showed up around the same time as his mom’s cancer diagnosis, lightens a little bit.

I should fake sick and stay home.

The thought comes out of left field, but he’s immediately on board. She hasn’t had a good day in forever, and he doesn’t want to miss it. Who knows when the next one will come. If there will even be another good day. He wants to spend time with his mom while she knows what’s happening.

“My stomach hurts; I don’t think I can go to school.” He groans and grabs his stomach, trying to look as pathetic as possible to sell his story.

He’s forgotten how sharp his mom is, how well she knows him. “Nice try, honey. You were fine two seconds ago, and you’re not missing your first day of senior year. Now, c’mon! It’s photo time!”

Carole is marching towards the front door before he can argue, so he tries to sway Mav in his favor. But the dark-haired man just shakes his head and avoids eye contact, grabbing the camera off the counter. Bradley stands in the middle of the kitchen, the knot retwisting itself.

He suddenly realizes that his upset stomach has nothing to do with yesterday’s tilapia trying to get its revenge and everything to do with what he overheard in the waiting room during his mom’s last checkup.

“I know, I heard. Isn’t it terrible? He'd been sick for a while, but it seemed like he was getting better. He even took his kids on a bike ride, and then - BAM! - he was gone the next day!”

“Oh, that happens a lot with people who are sick for a long time. Toward the end, they get this sudden burst of energy. It’s like God’s way of giving a happy memory to them and their loved ones. Letting them have one last good day before they go.”

He’s actually going to throw up this time.

Bradley drags his feet all the way to the front door, delaying his departure as much as possible. He doesn’t want to leave, but he knows he’s not going to win any fight against her right now - he’s going to school, come hell or high water. And he doesn’t want to fight with his mom; instead, he chooses to commit the moment to memory.

The gentle touch of her hands as she fusses with his hair, making sure it’s just right before any photos.

The brightness of her smile, how it’s the one thing that’s never dimmed despite everything she’s gone through.

The teasing barbs she exchanges with Mav, the man who has been family to her for longer than Bradley has been alive.

He looks at Mav, the man who has done his best to help raise him. Tried so hard to be a fatherly figure in place of the man who was lost too soon. Mav looks tired, Bradley wonders if he’s thinking the same thing as him.

She’s going. She’s going, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Just like every year since kindergarten, they squish together on the porch, his mom wrapping her arm around his waist. He thinks about how she used to have to squat down so their heads were together. Now, she’d have to go on her tiptoes, and he’d have to crouch down for that to happen.

He knows his smile looks fake; he has to force himself because this might be the last photo he gets with his mom, and that makes him sad beyond words. Carole quickly fixes that, tickling his side on that one spot that always gets him. He giggles and tries to squirm away, his smile turning happy and real as she laughs at him.

“You’re just like your father; he was ticklish in the exact same spot.”

Even the talk of Goose doesn’t bring them down like it usually does. Today, it lifts everyone’s spirit to realize how much he’s like the father he didn’t get to know.

After Mav has taken an ungodly number of photos, Bradley asks for the camera and stands next to his uncle. He snaps photo after photo of his mom, hoping that if he takes enough, he won’t ever be able to forget this moment. Then he shuffles Mav on the porch and takes photos of the pseudo-siblings. He rearranges them one last time, setting the camera on the porch railing and hitting the timer.

He doesn’t know it yet, but that photo of the three of them standing in the yard with the Bronco just visible in the background will be the last photo taken of his mother. As an adult, it will be tied for first place with five others as his favorite photo of all time.

After the last flash, Carole pulls him close. “I am so proud of you, Bradley. Your dad would be so proud of you. You’re such a good boy. I love you so much.”

He hugs her tighter than he should; he can’t help it. The little gasp she lets out at the intensity of his hug makes him feel a bit guilty, but he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t want to let her go.

“I know, honey. I know. It’s okay.” She tries to soothe her baby, who isn’t a baby anymore. He’s a full-grown man who is so much smarter and wiser than any 18-year-old should ever be. He’s been through so much more than any kid should ever have to go through. She feels bad about how quickly he’s had to grow up. “Everything is gonna be okay.”

No, it’s not going to be okay. But he holds back his tears because he doesn’t want her to cry when she’s having a good day. He reluctantly lets go and slips on his sunglasses - aviators, just like Goose - before heading for his car, knowing that if he doesn’t go now, he’ll never be able to make himself leave.

With his stomach in even more knots than he thought possible, Bradley heads off to school, waving as he pulls out of the driveway. Trying to burn the image of his mom waving, one hand on her hip as Mav nudges her and makes her laugh.

From the moment he parks the Bronco in the seniors-only lot, the entire school day feels like torture. He can’t even enjoy the beginning of his senior year, something he had been waiting for.

Senior year means graduation. Graduation means going to college. College means packing his stuff for Annapolis. Annapolis means he can finally start working on his dream.

He’ll learn how to be an aviator while roaming the same halls as Goose while he learns the ins and outs of aeronautical engineering. He might even be lucky enough to get placed in the same dorm room. Being an aviator means he’ll be just like his father. And Mav. And Ice. And Slider. And all of his other uncles from the class of '86. But he can’t bring himself to be excited like usual.

Instead, he’s on edge the entire day. Waiting to get called to the nurse’s office. They all had agreed as a family - Bradley, Carole, Mav, and Ice - that if she passed when he was at school, they would have the front office call him down to the nurse’s office. Ice would pick him up, Mav likely busy dealing with the doctors and the funeral home and everything.

He can barely eat the lunch his mom packed. A peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich, cut into triangles like when he was little. Chips, cucumber slices, and a chocolate chip cookie round out the meal. He tosses most of the food but is careful to keep the little note she had put in the brown paper bag.

I love you, Bradley. You’re going to do great things.

He presses it between the pages of his calculus textbook before he goes to gym, making sure he doesn’t bend the pink sticky note, preserving her swirly handwriting as best he can.

Finally, the bell signaling the end of the eighth period rings. Relief washes through his body. There’s been no call from the nurse, and his school day is over. He hastily packs his bookbag and practically skips towards the parking lot, waving at some friends still in class. He’s one got free period during ninth period, and as a senior, he gets to leave early if he has no class.

He’s planning his route home - he wants to stop at the corner store to grab a treat for his mom - when he skids to a stop where the concrete sidewalk meets asphalt.

Ice is leaning against the bumper of the Bronco.

“Happy birthday, Bradley!” His mom yells before blowing a kazoo.

He couldn’t be happier. It’s his birthday, his mom is having a good day, and he just got the keys to the Bronco. It’s officially his, just like he always dreamed it would be.

“Your dad’s dream was for you two to fix it up together and give it to you on your eighteenth birthday,” Mav explained. “I know I can’t replace him, but we had a good time working on it, right?”

Bradley nods and hugs his uncle. Mav will never be his actual dad, but he’s the closest thing he has to one. He helped raise him. He had sacrificed so many weekends to spend time with him, showing him how to fix the Bronco or throw a football with a perfect spiral. He’d even taken him on motorcycle rides, but they agreed not to tell Mom about that.

“Okay, knock it off, you saps. It’s time to blow out your candles, Baby Goose!” Slider enters the dining room, looking ridiculous with a crooked party hat on his head. He’s concentrating hard to balance a cake that’s much too big for the six people in attendance at his birthday dinner.

It’s set in front of Bradley, and he laughs when he sees the cake is covered in little plane toys. It looks like a cake made for a little kid, and he loves it. Aunt Sarah lights his candles and starts singing. He sits there for 30 seconds, watching his family sing off-key and thinking about how he loves his family so much his heart hurts.

“Okay, baby! Close your eyes and make a wish!” Carole smooths a hand over his hair.

He smiles up at her. “Only if you help me, ma.”

She bends down, doing a quick countdown before they close their eyes and blow out the candles together. For the first time in years, Bradley actually makes a wish.

Please don’t let my mom die. I need her.

Ice is talking to Slider, who’s parked in his white Jeep, and even from this distance, he can tell they’ve been crying.

Slider has obviously given Ice a ride to school, and now they’re waiting for him. If Ice doesn’t have his truck, that means he’s going to be driving Bradley. And that can only mean one thing.

She’s gone. My wish didn’t come true.

His backpack hits the ground at the same time as his knees, and he throws up. It’s not a lot; he’s barely eaten today, and by the time his uncles reach him - their feet pounding on the pavement - he’s just sobbing and dry heaving into the grass.

“Breathe, Bradley. You gotta breathe, buddy.” He can’t tell which one is talking; blood is rushing in his ears, and he just keeps crying.

“Bradley.” It’s Ice, holding his face up. “Listen to me. Your mom is not dead. Do you hear me? She’s not gone. But she had to be taken to the hospital; we’re still waiting for the test results. We’re gonna go there right now, but you need to breathe first, okay? You gotta breathe.”

He does his best to stop crying and take in air. His body literally shudders on the first breath, his lungs greedily sucking in the oxygen. After a few breaths, a water bottle is shoved in front of his face. He doesn’t even know where it came from, but he drinks, his throat raw.

Slider pops a mint into his mouth before helping him stand. “It’ll help your throat and your stomach.”

He races to the car, throwing the keys to Ice, who almost drops them. Both adults speed out of the parking lot, heading directly for the hospital.

Halfway there Ice has a chilling realization. The car is silent. If he’s learned anything in the last twenty-odd years, it’s that a car ride involving a Bradshaw is never silent. There’s always talking and laughing. Usually, you can count on singing and bad seat dancing, but today, it’s silent. There’s not even the sound of crying. And when he looks over at Bradley, he’s startled to find him catatonically staring out the windshield, his face bone dry. He looks like a statue, and it freaks Ice out how quickly he’s shut down. He hasn’t attended Sunday service in a long time, doesn’t even know if he believes in a higher power, but at that moment, he sends off prayers to every deity he can name, hoping that one of them can pull off a miracle for the boy who’s already dealt with so much.

It’s even worse at the hospital, Slider nabbing the spot next to them seconds after Ice shifts into park. The three of them hurry towards the ICU, where a nurse lets them all in after she hears who they’re visiting. Technically, only Bradley and Pete meet the requirements to be allowed in, but the entire ward is aware of the situation and are prepared to let as many people visit as needed.

Bradley freezes halfway to Carole’s room, Slider almost running him over. A priest is walking out of her room. He shakes hands with Mav and somberly nods at the frozen trio when he passes.

Mav watches as his best friends gently nudge his godson forward. His heart feels like it’s splitting in two as tears start streaming down Bradley’s face. A face that looks so old and so young at the same time. Maverick feels like he’s watching his 18-year-old nephew transform into the little boy who just lost his dad. His lower lip trembles just like it used to when he would fall and scrap his knee. Except this time, there’s nothing Mav can do to make it better. There’s no antibacterial spray, no Spiderman band-aid, no over-dramatic kiss with magical healing powers. This time, there’s only a young man who’s now taller than him. He stands in the doorway with red eyes and a mustache that makes him look so much like Goose.

“What happened?” Bradley croaks, afraid to enter the room. He hates the way his mom looks when she’s hooked up to all those machines. The beeping hurts his ears. “Why was the priest in here?”

“I don’t know, kid. We were about to eat lunch, and she collapsed. The doctors don’t know either; the test results didn’t show anything that’s telling them what’s going on. Everything is just suddenly worse.” Mav gets choked up; he can hardly continue. “They uh- they said this is probably it. That we should say our goodbyes. That’s why I had the priest come in. When we talked about her final wishes a while ago, she made me promise she would get her last rites.”

Bradley tackles him in a hug before he finishes talking. They cry together, mourning the loss that hasn’t happened yet.

The four of them have been sitting in silence for hours, listening to the beep of the heart monitor, when Bradley speaks up from his post beside his mom. “What else does she want? I know she wants to be buried next to Goose, but what else? She didn’t tell me.”

“She wants yellow carnations in her arrangements. Her wedding band stays with her, just like Goose, but her engagement ring goes to you. She wants to be wearing that blue dress she wore when she first met your dad.”

“That’s it?”

“There are a few more legal things, like with the house and the cars, but that’s laid out in her will. She made me promise I’ll take care of you, which I was always going to do no matter what.”

And she made me promise I’ll never let you fly.

Mav doesn’t add that final promise to the list; it’s not the right time for that conversation. He’s not sure it’ll ever be the right time.

Carole can feel herself getting weaker, but today is a good day; she feels good. Strong.

“Peter Howard Mitchell! Listen to me, you stupid, stubborn, obnoxious jackass! We don’t have a lot of time before Bradley gets back, and we need to talk about this!”

Bradley had felt guilty about leaving to go to the movies with Tessa Richardson, but Carole had insisted - he’d had a crush on that girl for years. It was about time he had his first kiss. And she was 95% certain it was going to happen today. Her motherly instincts were tingling.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Carole! I’m sick of every conversation we have being about you dying!”

“You think I like talking about it? Knowing that I’m leaving behind my little boy?” She gets in his face, yelling with every ounce of strength she can summon. “You think I like knowing that my body is giving up? That I’m dying? I can feel it happening, Pete! I can feel myself drifting away! And nothing the doctors are doing is helping! I know that it’s scaring Bradley, scaring you, but it’s scaring me most of all!”

Maverick catches her, and they sink to the ground; she sobs in his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry; I’m so sorry, Carole. What do you need me to do?”

“Bradley can’t fly.” She pulls back, wiping her eyes. “He can’t fly for the Navy, Pete. I know he wants to, but you can’t let him.”

“But Carole, it’s his dream to-”

“To die just like his father?” Her words shock him. “I love Nick more than anything, Pete, you know that. But do you know what I would do to have him here with us today? Do you realize I’ve lived three times as long without my husband than I did with him? It’s been fifteen years - almost sixteen. I only knew Nick for five, and we were only married for three before he was gone. I would do anything to have Bradley know his father.”

“Care…”

“You’ve been incredible, Mav. You’ve done your best to be a father to him; he loves you so much. I love you so much; you’re my best friend. But I've missed my husband every day for the last fifteen years. He was the love of my life, and I miss him so much my heart hurts. I’m not going to be here, but I can’t stand the thought of the same thing happening to Bradley. I won’t let that happen to my baby. So, you have to promise me, Pete. Promise me you won’t let him fly.”

They sit on the floor in silence, staring at each other. The internal debate roars inside Maverick, hurting his chest. He loves the Bradshaws more than anything. He would do anything for them. He still feels guilty about his best friend’s death, knows it was his fault, even if the investigation said he was innocent. The guilt of Goose being gone eats away at him, little by little each day.

Carole is right.

He can’t - he won’t - lose Bradley the same way.

“I promise I’ll do my best to keep him out of the air. But Carole, he’s almost an adult. Soon, there won’t be much I can do to control him. I can’t stop him from applying to the Academy or joining the Navy.”

“Yes, you can. Get Ice to pull some strings, indebt yourself to Viper. Do whatever you have to do. Do everything you can to protect him, Pete.” Her voice is cold and emotionless, knowing it will destroy her son, but at least he’ll be alive.

It was the one and only time they had talked about it, but every time Bradley excitedly talked about his future, Carole would look at him with this face that made Mav feel awful. It’s her request, but he was going to be the reason Bradley’s dreams were crushed.

Mav leans over in his chair, guilt and hopelessness consuming his body. The knowledge that his godson was about to be more like him in all the ways he never wanted.

Orphaned. Mother dying, with a broken heart, years after his father was killed while flying.

Denied entrance to the Naval Academy due to something beyond his control.

“She doesn’t want anything else?”

“No.”

It’s the last word spoken. A lie.

Slider and Ice spend the night just outside the door in some extra chairs an orderly had been kind enough to scrounge up. Mav shifts between standing at Carole’s side to hold her hand and sitting ramrod straight at the foot of her bed.

Bradley stays by his mom’s side the entire night, clutching her left hand. He plays with her wedding band, twisting it around her finger like he used to when he was little. He thinks about how different everything is going to be. He’s going to be alone a lot more now. He’s legally an adult, so when Mav gets deployed or transferred, there won’t be a need to scramble to make sure he’s taken care of. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do with the house or if it’s even his to worry about. Mav, Ice, and his mom had taken care of the legal stuff without him. He wonders if Slider would loan him some money so he can get those earrings. She won’t be able to appreciate them, but he still wants her to have them. It’s the last thing he’ll be able to do for her. They’ll go nice with her blue dress, he thinks. He sits there and thinks. He’s there the whole time.

He’s there, wide awake, when Carole takes her last breath at 3:14 AM on September 4th. He’s there when the doctor comes in to declare her dead; he shakes Bradley’s hand, giving him the first of the thousand condolences that will follow. He’s there when the nurse comes in to turn off the monitors and unhook the IVs; she gently asks if he wants to leave while she cleans his mom up, but he refuses. He doesn’t have a lot of time left before he’ll never see her again; he can’t waste any time. He’s there for another hour, trying to say his goodbyes through sobs. He’s there until his uncles drag him out, promising him that he’ll see her again before the funeral. He’s still there, mentally, when he goes to sleep at Uncle Tom’s house. He and Pete are sleeping over, neither of them ready to face the house.

He’s there three days later, shyly asking the funeral director if it would be too much trouble to change his mom’s earrings. When he asked Uncle Ron about the money, he put them both in the car, drove to the mall, and paid for the earrings without question. The two of them hugged for a long time before they went home. He’s there at the viewing, next to his mother’s casket for hours, numbingly accepting condolences and hugs from hundreds of people. The one bright spot is being reminded how many people loved his mom. How wonderful she was to everyone she met.

He’s there at the graveside service, the first to place a rose on the polished wood. He stays there once it ends, refusing to leave, watching as the casket is lowered and the hole is filled with dirt. He’s there to place a bouquet of yellow carnations, her favorite, on top of the fresh earth. He pats the dual gravestone, one half still blank, before he lets Mav pull him to the car. He looks back one last time, and as the sunshine dries his tears, he swears he can hear his parents' laughter in the wind.

As an adult, now with two dead parents and one estranged, he’s there every year that he’s not deployed. He clears away any weeds and leaves before placing a bouquet of yellow carnations on the gravestone that now bears two names. Sometimes, there’s a single red rose already there when he arrives. Those are the years he knows Mav beat him to saying hello. He’s there for hours at a time, sitting with his parents and eating a bag of trail mix with extra M&Ms added - Goose’s favorite.

The first year that he and Mary are together, he’s there alone. He trusts her implicitly, and she knows the whole story. He told her what happened with Mav and everything that followed; it was a conversation they had early on. But this is something too raw, too personal, to share so soon in a relationship. He’s spent so many years doing this by himself that he’s not sure how he would handle having another person with him. Even if it was someone he loves so much.

Mary understands.

“Of course, you understand, you’re perfect.”

“I’m not perfect, Bradley. I just care about your feelings.”

“You’re perfect for me.” He kisses her before she can protest. “Thank you for caring about me.”

The day of, she kisses him softly as he leaves, pushing a sandwich bag of trail mix into his hand. Her only ask is to tell her when he gets home safe if he needs space, letting him know that her house is always open if he doesn’t want to spend the night alone.

He spends that first year catching them up. Now that he’s stationed in San Diego, it’s easier to visit more often, but several things have happened since his last stop. Usually, he talks for a bit and then sits in silence, choosing to reminisce on the happy memories. This time, he spends most of the time talking. Telling his parents about Mav, the shenanigans of the Dagger Squad, about Mary. He tells them all about Mary. How much he loves her, how he hasn’t said it yet because it’s only officially been two months, how he’s pretty sure she can tell anyway. He goes on and on about her eyes, her kindness, her intelligence.

“I love her so much; I’m going to marry her.” He blurts it out, a small gasp following his declaration to the etched granite stone. It’s not the first time he’s had the thought, but it’s the first time he’s said it out loud. And now he can’t stop thinking about it.

Mary in a white dress with a veil sitting on her pretty brown hair, a gold band on her ring finger. The two of them committing themselves to each other in front of all their loved ones. Twirling her around the dance floor to their song, dipping her at the end to kiss her and make her blush. Everything that would follow. A house. A dog. A few kids. Diapers and dance recitals to gray hair and wrinkles.

“Holy shit… I’m going to marry her.” The breeze ruffles his hair, and he knows it’s his parents. “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll make sure we’re married before I get her pregnant, unlike you two.”

He decides to stay the night at Mary’s, feeling better than he ever has on this day. He goes to find her the moment he enters the house, using the key she recently gave him. She’s on her office floor, organizing her bookshelf, when he presses himself against her, devouring her in a kiss. Bradley’s added weight throws her off balance, and the two of them topple over, sprawled in the paperbacks.

When he finally pulls back, he’s pleased to see that she’s flushed and her chest is heaving.

“I’m not complaining, but what was that?”

“I’ve never had someone to come home to after visiting them; I’ve always done it alone.” He talks into her neck, enjoying the way her fingers tighten in his hair when his lips brush her skin. “I’m just really thankful I have you.”

“Oh, Bradley…” Mary doesn’t know what to say. She loves this man so much, and she knows it’s too soon to say that, so she shows him. The night ends with a shower and papercuts in places where papercuts should never happen.

The day sneaks up on him the second year they’re together. They’ve been busy; between work, helping Jake with his surprise, and preparing to move in together, August went by in a blink. It leaves him with no time to mentally prepare.

Bradley jolts awake, sweat covering his temples and his heart thumping. It’s the worst nightmare he’s had in months. It was a twisted mess of awful moments. Some real, some imagined. Reliving his mother’s death but worse, almost dying on the uranium mission, losing Mary to cancer, same as his mom. He woke up just as a doctor was telling him she was gone and he wasn’t allowed to see her.

“No, sir, I’m sorry, but you can’t go back there. Her husband doesn’t want anyone else back there. You’ll have to wait for the funeral… if you’re even allowed in, asshole.”

He whips the covers off and trips his way to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before his dinner makes a return trip. The commotion wakes Mary, and she quickly makes her way to him, finding him laying on the floor, his shirt whipped into the tub.

His chest is so tight it hurts. He can’t believe he’s having a panic attack. He hasn’t had a full-on panic attack in years. There’s been anxiety, moments where he can’t easily catch his breath and his heart beating faster than it should, but nothing like this. He feels like he’s drenched in sweat, his heart is pounding, and he can’t breathe.

“Bradley? Look at me, sweetie.”

Mary.

“Can you look at me, Bradley?” He can hardly see through the tears. “I know it’s hard because you’re crying so hard, but look at me.”

It takes all his strength to turn his head, but he does it because he knows she’s worried.

“There you are. Okay, baby, I need you to breathe with me.”

He’s not exactly sure how she does it, but she helps him calm down. His body listens to her instructions before his brain realizes.

It takes a while, but he can breathe normally again. She helps him sit up, propping himself against the tub and letting his head fall back. He hears the sink run before there’s a soft touch on his shoulder.

“Gonna touch you, that okay?” He nods, appreciative of how considerate she is, always thinking of him.

Mary gently wipes his face, cleaning it of tears and sweat before brushing the washcloth over his arms and chest. It helps ground him, feeling more inside his body than before.

“What time is it?” Bradley rasps as she rinses the cloth.

“Late. Or early, depending on how you want to think about it.” She peeks out of the door, checking the time. Her face is somber when she comes back to him. “It’s 3:20, honey.”

“Twenty years… she’s been gone for twenty years.” He reaches for her, and she easily complies, straddling his thighs when he tugs her hand.

They sit in silence, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms.

“I had a nightmare.” He starts, answering her silent question. “It was her death and the uranium mission back-to-back, losing her and then him.”

She hums, encouraging him to continue. She doesn’t know the details of that mission - her clearance level is high but not that high - but she knows that he and Mav barely made it back. Both of them brushing hands with death multiple times.

They have nightmares. Less frequently now that they’re a few years down the road, but they still happen. Mav dreams that he doesn’t save them, that one of the bogeys gets them before Hangman reaches them. Bradley’s feature him missing the helicopter, having to watch Mav bleed out.

“Then it was you. You were sick. It was the same thing as Mom, uterine cancer. And I couldn’t even say goodbye. You married someone else, and I wasn’t allowed in.”

She takes a sharp breath. That’s new.

“I don’t want to lose you, Mary. I love you so much, I think it would kill me.”

“Oh, honey.” She cradles his face, forcing him to look at her. “You listen to me, Bradley Bradshaw. You are the best thing to ever happen to me. I love you more than anything. In two weeks, we’re going to be living together. When the time is right, we’re going to get married and have a family.”

She can't help but press a quick kiss to his mouth. “And I’m healthy. There’s no history of uterine or breast cancer in my family, and I just had my annual appointment last week. All the tests came back negative for bad things. Nothing is wrong. I'm totally healthy, okay? I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“You’re right, I can’t. We can’t control everything, and sometimes bad things happen. But I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to make sure I don’t ever leave you.”

“Thank you.” His voice is quiet and scratchy. “I know it’s hard with what I do, but I promise you’re my number one thought when I’m in the air; coming home safe to you is my top priority.”

“Now, I’m gonna cry, Bradley.” They both let out watery laughs. “You’re such a sweet man.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now let’s go back to bed; I need my beauty sleep before I meet your parents.” She pulls him up, and they fall asleep quickly, tucked together as the early morning light peeks through the curtains.

When they get to the cemetery the next afternoon, a red rose sits on the headstone. One step in front of him, Mary picks it up and brushes some leaves off the base. He watches as she places the flower back in its spot, plucking a few dandelions before she stands.

“There,” she says, brushing dirt off her hands, “that’s better.”

The wind picks up, twisting her long hair around, and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, Mom, I know. She’s very pretty. I’m working on proposing. We gotta do some stuff first, but it’s coming.” He mutters under his breath.

“What was that, honey?”

“Nothing, baby doll. Want to help me put the blanket down?” His hat blows off, and he scowls at the tree that’s nearby, smiling when he hears her muffled giggle.

Miss you, dad.

part six will be coming next week! have a great weekend everyone!

fic tag | Mar[r]y Me masterlist | credit for dividers here

#top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick au #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fic #top gun au #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #DSS universe #MM fic #ask game #asks answered #anon <3 #elle writes #mar[r]y me fic

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symwinter · 2 months

Note

So… about that Miraculous rewrite, what do you have in mind?

Okay, thank you for asking, I appreciate it. I’ll try and make this as concise as possible, because there’s a lot and I tend to ramble, so I’ve made it in the form of a numbered list:

1. I don’t plan on redeeming Chloé. I feel like despite actually knowing why Chloé didn’t get redeemed, there’s a pretty decent lesson about how entitlement doesn’t mean you get what you want that they definitely also could’ve gone with of if they were a bit smarter with it.

2. No zodiac kwami. They’re the bane of my existence. Why are two of them time travel based in power?

3. Adrienette is the endgame couple.

4. As of right now I’m sitting at three seasons, each one being 16 episodes plus three specials but I might either add a season four or make season three longer. One of the specials is the alternate dimension one. I love the concept of it.

5. I also gave the show an actual timeline. Because the Christmas specials says it’s Adrien’s first Christmas without his mother, but then season one has the Valentine’s Day episode which means it’s February and then the school year in France starts in September so if we look at season one as somewhat chronological, it means the Christmas special is wrong and that drove me crazy so I just redid the whole timeline. Because it would be his second Christmas without his mom.

6. Nathalie doesn’t have an unrequited crush on Gabriel. I never quite got that.

7. Any rich kid that was a sentimonster isn’t one anymore. The peacock miraculous doesn’t create sentimonsters but rather charms enemies as its main skill.

8. Adrien has more of a backbone than he does is canon and Marinette’s crush on. Adrian is a bit more healthy.

9. Rather than using potions to unlock new skills, the kwamis can manifest them themselves. They just need to expend extra energy and there are just some situations where that’s more difficult. I just feel like the book and the potions and the rennlings from the Shanghai special make the kwamis feel less like something ancient powerful and more like a tool. And also because Frozer takes place in January/February and Syren takes place in March/April (both are season two episodes though).

10. Up until the collector, Natalie didn’t know that Gabriel was Hawkmoth and agrees to wear the butterfly miraculous in order to get Gabriel to let Adrien go back to school and not be able to pull them out for a stupid reason anymore otherwise she’ll just go to the cops and be like “my boss is the supervillain.” She does this again in Simon Says but with Adrien’s love life as a preemptive caution.

11. Adrien is in the finale battle. I don’t get why they didn’t include him in season 5.

12. Emilie Agreste is a famous actress so her disappearance (aka I haven’t quite settled on what I want to do with her) is a lot more well-known to the public.

13. I am planning on renaming both of Felix‘s parents. I just haven’t quite settled on names yet.

I think that’s all I got right now. I’ve mainly been focussing on the timeline and the episode list and any changes to episodes rather than the characters themselves which feels counterproductive, but it’s just the way that my brain works, especially since I find it really difficult to think out Marinette and Adrien as individuals. My brain kinda just weaves them together.

#miraculous ladybug #symwinter’s trash writing #symwinter answers

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softtcurse · 1 year

Text

Through the years

what Jack’s relationship with you looked like through the years

•.•.•.•.•

September 2019

liked by jackharlow, privategardenco, urbanwyatt, and 2,271 others

yourinstagram watching my baby get to the top, and taking me with him. What more can I ask for? ☺️💓 you guys ready for confetti?

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yourinstagram love u :)

urbanwyatt CONFETTI!!

neyomiamorr new gf?!

gigifab they’ve been dating since the beginning of the year

lynwuinn she’s so prettyyy

marcooo harlow pulled that!?

jackharlow sure did, I’m on that ass every night

jesscalire I’m not ready for midnight 😭😭 he’s gonna kill it!!

yourinstagram plenty of sleepless nights in the studio, it’s gonna be worth it I promise <3

November 2020

liked by yourinstagram, urbanwyatt, druski2funny, claybornharlow, privategardenco, and 179,018 others

jackharlow bluegrass girl but she got big dreams, thank you for all the love this year. Many blessings.

comments on this post have been limited

yourinstagram 💞

jacksssylvia HOLD UP IS THAT A WEDDING RING??? 😭

urbansgramm IT LOOKS LIKE IT!?

urbanwyatt It’s like Im watching my children grow up

yourinstagram LMAOO

druski2funny Mf beat me to it

jackharlow The delusion

champagnepapi got the new album coming soon too 🙏🏽 it’s only up from here

jackharlow thank you brother, I’m very grateful 🙏🏻🙏🏻

claybornharlow ♥️ family

yourinstagram 😭💞 ty my baby

August 2021

liked by jackharlow, kaliuchis, druski2funny, urbanwyatt, privategardenco, claybornharlow, and 327,012 others

yourinstagram baby mila harlow

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jackharlow Before y’all start!! I had been up for 15 hours

yourinstagram baby I promise no one’s gonna say anything 😭

jackharlow mhmmm we’ll see baby girl, if not I’m on that ass for sure tonight

yourinstagram you will do no such thing! Your wife needs to heal, some lay with me and our child 🙄

jackharlow 🏃🏻🏃🏻🏃🏻

claybornharlow Im an uncle!!

druski2funny We’re an uncle

privategardenco we’re the godfathers

urbanwyatt I think we ALL new who the true godfather is

jackharlowupdates congratulations 🎊🥹🥹

jackharlowsssss OMG!! THATS WHY SHES BEEN MISSING?

champagnepapi welcome to fatherhood @/jackharlow you ready?

kaliuchis not him making you his baby mama before ME 🙄 @/yourinstagram you lied to me!!

yourinstagram UMMM…NO BABY LET ME EXPLAIN

October 2022

35,719 likes

hollywoodunlocked sources close to Jack Harlow have confirmed that him and his wife of two years have split up! These rumors came around mid May of 2022 right after Harlow’s album ‘Come Home The Kids Miss You” studio album dropped. They were seen today seemingly separated as Jack headed into a club for an appearance and YN was seen early today looking down and grabbing a coffee with a friend. The two share a one year old daughter together since August of last year. We wish them nothing but the best in moving forward! Let us know what you think in the comments!

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yoursistersinstagram Mind your business, y’all are so fucking annoying

here4jackman :/ this confirms it basically

ynscloset agreed, yn’s sister isn’t on social media that much so for her to comment on this really seems to me like the are getting a divorce

kathycam why are they divorcing? 😢

naimiii They’ve never spoken publicly about it but it seems like the tour really started to take a toll on them more than ever, there were already divorce rumors since May of this year but I think that mostly had to do with him focusing so hard on his album, didn’t think it would come down to this to be honest

ynismother NOOOO YN :(( I feel so bad for her

jacksgeorgiapeach why? She’ll still be swimming in his money

ynismother that’s so insensitive to say, you don’t know how hard it must be for her to have to go through the emotional distress of a divorce and still raise her child, weird bitch

kurmoialek so he can go out and party but she’s staying home with their daughter!?!

neocbbb I don’t think we should be commenting on anything they do, considering the fact that we don’t even know if this is true or just Hollywood gossip.

you via Instagram stories

anitta via instagram stories

#jack harlow fic #jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you #jack harlow fanfic #jackman thomas harlow

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blackwolfstabs · 8 months

Text

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 10

GAME NIGHT

To get some quiet, 11-year-old Sam agrees to play hide & seek with four rowdy 6-year-olds, except all doesn’t go as smoothly as anticipated.

(side note: Tara's technically still 5 bc her birthday's in December and this takes place in September...)

Sam unleashed a heavy sigh that was 40% annoyed and 60% tired as she glanced away from the clock. 7:02 PM, and she had at least 30 more minutes of listening to Tara, Chad, Mindy, and Wes run around like a pack of hyperactive puppies. It was already dark outside, and they had been at it since 3:30 that afternoon… Didn’t they ever get tired? She was beginning to regret agreeing to watch all of them extra late today… Even during, dinner they hadn’t settled for some quiet, regardless of her telling them that it’s not polite to talk with their mouths full or play with their food. And speaking of which…

The thought reminded Sam that she hadn’t put away the leftover macaroni and cheese that didn’t get eaten. At least that would kill some time. She got up from the couch and went to the kitchen, where she threw away the parchment paper that the chicken nuggets had been on first, before going to find a plastic container to conserve the other half of the meal.

Halfway through scraping the macaroni into the tupperware, shouting came from upstairs. It was the kind of shouting that was a mystery as to whether it was the good kind or the bad kind. But it didn’t stay that way for long, for as Sam tossed the used pot into the sink and went to put the leftovers in the refrigerator, a door from above flew open and the noise grew louder.

“Tara!” Mindy called from inside the room they had been in.

“That wasn’t fair!” Tara’s voice cracked in that way it always did when she was starting to cry.

“Look what you did, Chad!” Wes barked.

Chad answered, “What? I won, fair and square! You’re just being a baby about it, Tara!”

The youngest’s voice came from the top of the staircase, seemingly intent on making her way down to go pout about whatever she didn’t win, “Shut up, stupid!”

Now, Samantha shut the door to make way to the stairs as she heard her sister storming down. “Hey!” she snapped, making all four go silent. She found Tara’s teary eyes and crossed arms. “We don’t say that, Tara, it’s not nice,” her voice softened from yelling, but stayed firm.

“Well, Chad’s being mean,” she returned, stomping her foot for emphasis. Then, the so-called bully came to join her.

He defended himself, “No, she’s just mad because I won!” Behind him, Mindy and Wes appeared but stayed quiet.

Sam looked from Chad to Tara. “Tara, what did Chad do that was mean?”

The girl twisted her body in frustration, refusing to look at her friend and her sister as she tried to come up with something. But the truth was, she was just angry that she didn’t win. She always won, and she was proud of that. “Nothing…” she mumbled, while scuffing the floor with her foot.

Her older sister could take some of the blame for her attitude. She always let her win, even when it wasn’t fair. So, she was used to it. There was only a spare amount of times when Sam would stick to her guns and keep Tara from getting what she wanted, but that was usually when she was trying to take something away that she was playing with. Their mother had reminded her that Tara needed to understand the concept of sharing, so every now and then she would make sure her baby sister faced the fact that she couldn’t have everything she wanted when she wanted it. “Okay, so you owe Chad an apology,” she told her, “Tell him you’re sorry for saying mean things to him.”

However, Tara just tightened her crossed arms and turned away from the boy on her right with a whine. “I don’t want to.”

Sam shifted with a semi-aggravated sigh. She knew all 4 of them were overtired, which would encourage them to exhibit inappropriate behavior, but it was giving her a headache now. “Tara, if you don’t tell him you’re sorry, I’ll tell Mom and then she’ll put you in time-out when she gets home,” she warned.

The other’s expression changed a little, and she forced herself to turn around. “Sorry, Chad…”

While it seemed like she was being genuine, Sam wanted it to be sincere by the way their parents taught them. “Mean it,” she said, “Give him a hug.”

And she did. Chad embraced her back with a smile. “It’s okay, Tara,” he accepted her apology. He then stepped back to further promise her, “You’ll win next time.”

Oh, God and if she didn’t? The eldest of the group fought back the temptation to run her hand over her face in dread for what might not come in her favor. However, before they could insinuate another game, Mindy leapt onto the steps.

“Hey, Sam, can you play with us this time?”

Sam’s initial thought was no, absolutely not, because it would just turn into her trying to rein in the 4 of them bickering about who was going to do what or how the game should be played, and she was not in the mood to handle a meltdown. She was sure she’d walk out of the house and leave them to figure it out. But when she looked at them, they each seemed excited at the thought of her getting involved. Just 30 more minutes hopefully… she could keep them entertained for that long, right? She sighed, “You know what, sure.” She turned around to make way back to the living room, aware of the stampede of little footsteps following her, “But I get to pick the game, got it?”

“Okay!” was the unison reply.

Once they were all gathered by the couch, the alpha turned around. “We’re gonna play Hide & Seek. You all are gonna go hide, and I’m gonna seek,” she told them, “Whoever is the last to be found gets to be the next seeker. Sound fair?”

The twins nodded eagerly, while Wes and Tara voiced their acceptance.

“Yeah!”

“Uh-huh!” Then the small Carpenter pointed in the direction of their parents’ room. “You go count in Mommy and Daddy’s room, because we can’t go in there.” She bolted for the stairs again, shouting to her friends. “Come on!”

As Samantha started for her parents’ room, she called out to them, “Stay out of my room, please!”

“Why?!” was Mindy’s questioning voice.

They were at that age where everything was answered with why? “Because I said!” she replied.

“Okay!”

“Count to 100!” Chad told their seeker, before vanishing out of sight.

So, she did. To get a little over a minute-and-a-half break, Sam laid down on her parents’ bed, while counting to 100 in her head, like instructed. For hiders, the quad of kids weren’t very quiet. Thumping and footsteps could be heard both upstairs and downstairs, but to be fair—and keep them hidden for as long as possible to pass the time—she pretended not to hear it.

96, 97, 98, 99…

100.

All was quiet by the time she had reached 55, so she figured everyone had picked a spot and stayed there. There were countless times when she and Tara would play, and Tara would come out of her hiding spot because she’d changed her mind and made Sam go back and recount again. “Ready or not, here I come!” she announced the game’s script, even though she knew they had to be ready otherwise they were just going to be found first. She never really understood why saying those words were necessary. Just some sort of acknowledgement that the seeker is on the hunt should suffice, because saying ‘here I come’ just sounded a little weird, but whatever…

She searched the living room first, checking the cabinets beneath the TV as well as the storage space of the ottoman. Nothing. Then, she moved the curtains and opened the closet. Still nothing. So, she moved to the kitchen.

Clearly, there was no one underneath the table, and the only other place that a small person could hide would be the bottom cabinets. However, not a trace of life was present. Sam turned at the far end of the kitchen island, catching the two places of exit on the same wall. One went into the formal dining room, while the other went to the mud room. Beneath the jackets hanging, there was subtle movement and a pair of small lavender shoes that weren’t familiar to the house.

Mindy.

She came around quietly, like a stalking cat, keeping the essence of the game alive as she ducked into the shadows. She grabbed the black cover-up and pulled it aside, where she found who she guessed was there. “Found you, Mindy.”

The girl laid her hands out in confusion, “How?! It’s so dark in here!”

Her genuinely disbelieved tone actually made Sam laugh with a shrug. “Maybe wear darker shoes next time,” she suggested, as she held the jacket aside and waved her to come out into the light.

She obeyed, nodding at the feedback. “Yeah, that wasn’t very smart of me…”

Immediately, the older female jumped in to assure her, “No, don’t say that about yourself. You’re very smart.” Being Tara’s big sister taught her how important building self-worth was. She had struggled to do it for herself, but with Tara’s already weakened condition from her asthma, she always made sure that Tara never looked down on herself for things she couldn’t control or things that weren’t important. It’d become a habit. “I’ll tell you what,” she began as she leaned down to Mindy’s level. When she received undivided, curious attention, she went on, “How about you continue to look for the others down here and I’ll search upstairs? You’ve got a really good eye, so I know you’ll do really good.”

Meeks-Martin brightened, that sparkle that she was famous for finding its way to her eyes as she gave a small hop of excitement. “Okay!”

“Alright, let’s go!” Mindy’s thrill of being praised encouraged Sam’s thrill of being involved in the game as she turned around to run for the stairs. “We’re a team now, so let me know if you find anyone!”

“I will!” The other’s voice dictated that she had already raced away to begin her new job.

Sam prowled the second floor, checking every closet and behind every door. Her door had stayed shut, so she assumed they had listened to what she said about staying out of there, thankfully… However, Tara’s room hadn’t been off-limits. It would’ve been too predictable for Tara to hide in there, but not Chad or Wes. This thought led her to the threshold for her next stop. Nothing seemed to be moved around from when the 4 had been playing in there earlier, but she had learned a thing or two about kids their age being sneaky. Hell, she was quite the fox when she was that age.

She scanned the bed, behind the curtains and in the closet, but… nothing. She gently kicked some abandoned puzzle pieces aside, before kneeling down for the last place she hadn’t checked. The depths of the most feared place of all children: under the bed.

Not a soul lingered… but there was an empty Goldfish bag.

Sam sighed. “Tara…” They weren’t supposed to eat upstairs, yet this had been there for some time. She slipped the bag into her pocket to continue searching, planning to throw it away in the bathroom trash can. When she got there, she turned on the light and tossed it into the bin, only to be caught off-guard by the shower curtain flying open.

“Rraahhh!”

Not expecting someone to hide in the shower, the growl-like outburst had her flinching with a yelp, but as pleasured giggling followed, she dropped her cringed demeanor. “Chad!” Her jump-started heart took a minute to recover as she shook her head. “You’re not supposed to come out of your hiding spot,” she covered up her alarm with an objection.

But the boy didn’t care as he leapt out of the bath/shower combo. “I know, but I knew you were gonna find me, so I wanted to scare you,” he defended himself.

Samantha just smirked and rolled her eyes. “I’ve already found Mindy, so now we’re looking for Tara and Wes.”

“Oh, Tara’s up here!” he blurted and darted out of the bathroom. “Come on!”

While it was technically against the rules to tell the seeker where the other hiders were, the pre-teen went with it anyway and followed him into the guest bedroom, where he went straight to the pile of pillows at the head of the bed.

Chad leapt up onto the mattress and pounced on the stash, earning a muffled squeak from beneath. “We found you, Tara!” he called in a sing-song voice as he ripped the pillows away to reveal the hider’s curled up body.

From the side of the bed, Sam braced herself for her sister to erupt into an attitude, shouting that Chad was cheating for already knowing where she was. But instead, the young girl busted out into laughter and jumped up from her crouched position.

“Hi, Sam!” she greeted her with a big smile and shining eyes.

Her hair was a mess from being tucked into a ball, which made her older sister giggle as she put her hand up, “Hi.” The two children then slipped off the bed, leading her to inform them, “Wes is the only one left. Let’s go see if Mindy has had any luck.” But right as she said that, the mentioned girl’s voice came bellowing through the house.

“Sam!”

She didn’t sound right though.

This sent the called being’s heart into a race as she turned around and fled out of the room. She could already hear Mindy’s running footsteps coming to the staircase.

“Saaaam!”

“What, Mindy?! What’s wrong?!” She nearly skidded on the stairs, having to stop herself from slamming into the child, who met her a quarter of the way up.

“Wes is stuck in the tree!” she shouted.

It took a brief moment for Sam to process what she had said, but she soon found herself heading for the backdoor with Mindy, Chad, and Tara on her heels. “He’s not even supposed to be outside,” she hissed as she threw the door open and ran into the night. And just like the older twin had said, Wes was clinging to a branch up in the tree in the middle of the yard.

A high branch, at that…

As she approached the trunk, she called up to him. “Wes, you know you’re not supposed to be outside! What are you doing up there?!”

He whimpered, clearly upset with being so high up but also with the fact that he had done something wrong. “I just wanted a good hiding spot…” he confessed, the tears in his eyes becoming present to the rest through his voice. “B-but I can’t get down! I’m scared, Sam!”

If she was older, she’d curse… because she did not want to climb that tree. Being an older sibling, she had been forced to outgrow many of her fears, but she was never able to shake her fear of heights. However, she was the oldest one there right now. Her parents, and Wes’s mom, and Mindy and Chad’s mom were depending on her to make the adult decisions. She was going to be 12 years-old next May, and it was the end of September now. She was the only one who could do this. She couldn’t just leave him in the tree until their parents came. She should be able to handle this… shouldn’t she? “Um… okay,” she didn’t realize she was agreeing to this until she was agreeing to it. “Okay, it’s okay, Wes! Uh…” She glanced around as if there were going to be some ladder or something that would magically spawn out of nowhere. But there wasn’t, just the 3 faces of the other kids staring at her. That told her that they were depending on her too… She looked back up to the boy in the tree. “I’m… I’m gonna come get you! Just hang on!”

The last time she had climbed this tree, she had been in the same situation as Wes was in now. She and Tara had been playing this same game, and she had the bright idea to climb the tree because Tara couldn’t get in the dang tree. That’s when she got very familiar with her fear. Tara had to go get their father, who had to climb up to get her down.

Now, here she was…

Samantha paced up to the tree trunk and took a deep breath. “Oh, God, okay…” she exhaled and lifted her gaze to the obstacle course above. ‘Don’t look down, now,’ she told herself, before grabbing ahold of the lowest branch. This was it.

From above, Wes bit back a cry. “S-Saaam…”

Before she could reply, Tara answered to him from the ground. “It’s okay, Wes! Sam’s coming!”

And that’s when her big-sister-instincts kicked in. Sam dug her nails into the bark and pressed the soles of her shoes into the dips the trunk and limbs provided. Grabbing each branch one by one with a grip as tight as hers had the skin of her palms ripping and her fingers burning like she was touching a hot stove. She swallowed back a whimper as the pain ran deep, but she kept her eyes fixed on Wes. He was her main priority. She threw her arm towards the last branch and grunted as she pulled herself up. Her foot slipped a little, which provoked a startled gasp from her, and she had to stop for a moment to recover.

‘Don’t look down. Whatever you do, don’t look down.’ She rehearsed the words over and over again in her head, her anxiety of falling making tears of her own threaten to take hold of her.

She tried to think of the way she’d seen animals move and climb in the cartoon movies she and Tara watched and tried to mimic that. It seemed to work well, so it couldn’t be terribly different for people, right? She remembered what her father had said when he had saved her from this situation.

‘ "Just breathe, Sam. I’ve got you." ’

She was clinging to his neck when he’d said this, shaking while crying into his shoulder.

‘ "As long as you hold on tight, you won’t fall." ’

Sam took a deep breath and raised her chin, blinking her lurking tears away. Wes didn’t know what she knew, so she had to tell him herself. And the only way to do that was to make it to him and be confident, just like her dad was. So, she did. She clawed her way to where he was and assured him as he jumped onto her. “You’re okay,” she positioned herself to be able to caress him with one arm, “I’ve got you.”

“Yay, Sam!” Mindy shouted from below.

“You did it!” Tara accompanied, while Chad was too busy watching.

Wes was trembling against Sam as she took a moment to collect herself. She was going to have to do things a little differently than what her father did with her because of her youthful strength. “Wes, listen to me, okay?” She kept her balance for the time being. “You’re gonna have to get on my back, so I can climb down. Can you do that for me?”

But he just sniffled with a shudder. “I… I want my mom,” he whined, clutching her shirt as if the rest of the world was out to get him.

“I know,” she tried to soothe him, “I know, and she’ll be here soon. But I’m here right now, and I will get you down.” She could feel the warmth from his tears soak her shoulder. “I promise.” The longer they stayed up there, the more anxious she became. “But you have to do what I say, okay? As long as you hold on tight, you won’t fall.”

The boy nodded and eased away from her figure to do what she told him. Sam kept one arm against him as he made his way onto her back and fastened his arms around her neck. “You ready?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm…”

“Alright. Here we go…” Having the added weight onto her back made the older Carpenter feel twice the strain on her hands as she began the climb down. Not to mention, his hold on her neck made breathing difficult, and the way his legs wrapped around her torso had his shoes pressing uncomfortably into her stomach. However, the most important thing was for him to hold on tight, like she said, so she didn’t hold it against him.

And right as her feet hit the ground, the back door opened.

“What are you doing out here?!”

“Mama!” Tara was the first to turn and flock to her mother’s voice. “We were playing Hide & Seek and Wes got stuck in the tree, so Sam had to get him down,” she explained.

Christina looked up from her youngest daughter to find her oldest kneeling on the ground to let Wes off of her back. Behind her, Judy appeared to speak before she could.

“Well done, Samantha!” the officer praised as her son came running up to her. She picked him up and set him on her hip. “But didn’t I tell you to stay out of trees, Wes?” Her tone dropped when she spoke to him, but softened once more when he nodded and leaned against her shoulder. As the twins and Sam came to join them, she nodded to the eldest, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Sam replied, regardless of the marathon her heart was still running. She then glanced over to Christina, expecting to be scolded for not being more clear on giving the kids proper directions. However, instead, her head was pet with a soft hand.

“Good girl, Sam,” her mother spoke with a smile.

And all of the sudden, Sam’s heart slowed, and she found herself smiling back, a sense of pride and self-achievement flooding through her to drown out the fear. Tara’s weight then slammed into her side as her waist was encased by her little arms.

“You were so brave!”

She chuckled, “Thanks, Tara.”

Judy cut in to dismiss herself and her son, “Alright, it’s getting late, so we better get going.”

Christina nodded. “Of course.” She then waved the rest to follow them in. “Come on inside! Chad, Mindy, your mom should be here any minute.”

The twins and Tara raced inside, while Judy followed with Wes, and then Christina and Sam.

It had been one hell of an eventful night… and it all started at 7:02 PM.

Okay, so it was one hell of an eventful 30 minutes.

this took me way too long to write rip.

I'm pretty sure I had more to say but I'm lowkey brain-dead atm soooooooo

All my best and blessings to you! ♡ - parker

#scream #scream v #scream vi #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #wes hicks #christina carpenter #judy hicks #30 day writing challenge #game night #AU: The Way I Am

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