Fixing Little Red

  Contents

  FIXING LITTLE RED

  SYNOPSIS

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  End Notes

  Sneak Peek

  Also By Izaia Winter

  About The Author

  FIXING LITTLE RED

  A DIFFERENT HEARTS NOVEL

  AN MM AGE PLAY ROMANCE

  BY IZAIA WINTER

  SYNOPSIS

  One little mistake was all it took to land little Red in the hospital.

  Red never thought his weekend project of assembling his new playscape with his best friend would lead to a broken arm, a quick ride in an ambulance, and the chance meeting with the man of his dreams. It’s too bad he’s not a Daddy. Well, Red can still hope, right?

  All it took was one look into his teary green eyes and Nate was hooked.

  While out on a routine call about a broken arm, paramedic Nate is surprised and intrigued by the man that so openly admits to his fear and pain. The fact that he’s cute doesn’t hurt either. When his partner questions Red’s decorating style and possible submissive tendencies, Nate is a little more than intrigued. Could he really find the intimacy and care that he’d always felt missing in his life with someone like Red? And what exactly was a little?

  Join Nate and Red as they discover everything they need in each other.

  WARNING: This book is intended for Adult (18+) readers. While not all books in this series will feature Age Play, Daddy Kink, or Adult Baby/Diaper Lover elements, this book does. I understand this kind of content is not for everyone, and if this is not your cup of tea, feel free to skip this book. I try to write all books so that they can be read and understood as stand-alone stories. However, reading them all together will create a more complete and rich experience as past characters can and will make surprise appearances.

  ~63.7k words

  Story Contains: MM Sexual Content, Daddy, Kink, BDSM Elements, Power Exchange Relationships, Age Play, Mild AB/DL, Spanking, Mild Medical Play, Exhibitionism, Fast Feelings, Sweetness Overload, Happily Ever Afters, and No Angst.

  Copyright © 2019 Izaia Winter

  All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The use of any real company and/or product names is for literary and descriptive effect only. All trademarks and copyrights are the property of their respective owners. Their inclusion in this work should not be taken as an endorsement from or of any of these third parties or their products and services.

  This work is for entertainment purposes only.

  I’d like to dedicate this book to my past self who never thought I’d ever publish a book, let alone two. To the many more to come!

  Chapter One

  Red

  Propped against the wooden A-frame that supported the brand new swing set going up in my backyard, I stared at the instruction manual then back at the random bolt in my hand then back at the manual. Well, that wasn’t good. I flipped back to the materials list and yep, there it was—twelve bolts of the exact same type as the one I was holding went into putting the little fort together and unfortunately, we’d already done that part.

  “Danny,” I called, looking over my shoulder at Danny who was busy piecing the slide together. “I think we made a mistake somewhere.”

  Danny stood up and used the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. “What do you mean?”

  I lifted the bolt high enough for him to see. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t supposed to be in my hand right now.”

  “Shit.”

  I frowned and stared at the half-built wooden playscape I’d purchased and then foolishly thought I could put together myself. Why hadn’t I just paid for the installation as well?

  Oh, right, I thought, looking around my backyard at the brightly colored merry-go-round with the bright yellow bars I’d found online for a steal, the kiddie pool with cartoon fishes on it, and the various other outdoor toys that sang to my little side. And knowing me, I would have made a fool of myself in front of the workers trying to convince them it was all for my spoiled children—children I definitely didn’t have, which would have been obvious the second they set one foot inside of my house.

  To say my littleness exploded into every aspect of my life would’ve been an understatement.

  I was a writer and made enough to get by and purchase the occasional toy that caught my eye. To that end, my couch was covered in stuffies that I liked to snuggle with, my kitchen was a rainbow explosion of different colors and random cute things I’d found in thrift shops, and my bathroom was covered in rubber duckies. What wasn’t in the house were items that indicated an actual child or baby lived there. There were no small shoes by the door, no photos of the kids on the walls, and no report cards or proud milestones posted on the refrigerator.

  And they would have had to enter my house because there were no gates into the fenced-off backyard, the only entrance being my back door.

  There had been a gate at one time, but I’d boarded it up shortly after moving in. Being little in my house was one thing, but I’d found being little in my backyard to be a nerve-racking experience. I’d found myself staring at the gate more often than not, anxious that someone would just wander in off the sidewalk to find me in my brightly colored clothes that no adult man would be caught dead in, a diaper peeking out of my waistband, and a pacifier in my mouth. I’d found myself tensing at every car that drove by and every person I could hear. For my own peace of mind, the gate had had to go.

  The idea that some random workers would need to enter my house had sent me into such a panic that I’d begged Danny to help me build my playscape instead of letting the professionals do it and now I was staring at a bolt I was sure held up something important.

  “Let me look,” Danny said as he crossed the distance between us and took the manual from my hands. Muttering under his breath, he walked toward the fort and began checking underneath. “I think these bolts are used the secure the floor to the legs but it looks like they’re all here.”

  Pushing off the frame, I turned to join him when I heard him shout. Looking up, I realized the A-frame I’d been leaning on wasn’t actually attached to the fort—probably the fault of the bolt still in my hand—and was now falling towards me.

  Like an idiot, instead of jumping out of the way, I reached up as if to catch the falling frame with my left hand. That’s right, with just the one hand because, for some reason, my right hand decided it needed to hold on to that bolt for dear life.

  Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The weight of the frame collided with my hand and as the force traveled down my arm, I heard something loud snap, several somethings. Instinctively, I knew my arm was broken. The sudden shock of pain knocked the breath from my lungs but a strange numbness soon took over. In some part of my brain, I realized my body was going into shock and that sooner or later the pain would come.

  I cried out as my arm slippe
d from the frame and then it took us both down to the ground. I stared up at the sky—my chest and upper arm pinned beneath the weight of the wood—and fought the urge to cry. My arm didn’t hurt so I stayed perfectly still knowing any movement would send shards of pain down my body. I just had to stay still forever, I decided, thinking it was a perfectly rational idea. Danny could bring me food and maybe an umbrella to keep the sun out of my face and—

  “Oh my god!”

  Danny’s face appeared above me as he dropped to the ground by my side.

  “Red? Red, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

  I shifted my focus from the white, fluffy cloud slowly making its way across the sky to his concerned face. “I think I broke my arm.”

  My voice was little and my lower lip trembled, but I didn’t care. My arm hurt.

  “What?” Danny looked down at my right arm, still holding on to that damn bolt, then looked at my left. I could tell by the horrified look on his face and the blood draining from his complexion that I was right.

  “We need to get you to the hospital,” Danny said, scrambling to his feet. “I’ll call 9-1-1.”

  “What! You can’t do that!” I yelled out in a panic as Danny fumbled for his phone, his fingers shaking as he tapped on the screen. “Stop! People will see!”

  It was silly, but even the reality of a broken arm didn’t mean I wanted strangers in my house.

  Danny stopped what he was doing and glared at me. “It doesn’t matter. Your arm is broken, Red, and I don’t think I can lift the frame by myself without hurting you. You could have some kind of internal damage that we can’t see. The EMTs will not care that you have little stuff all over your house and backyard. I’m sure they’ve seen stranger things than that. All they will care about is helping you. Now, I am calling 9-1-1 and you are going to lay there until help comes.”

  I watched in stunned silence as Danny answered the operator’s questions. I could practically hear the conversation between the two of them like a script in my head.

  9-1-1, what is your emergency?

  “Hello, yes, I am at a friend's house and a wooden A-frame from a playscape fell on him and broke his arm. He’s still currently under the frame. It’s not that heavy, but I don’t want to try lifting it by myself.”

  Don’t attempt to lift the frame by yourself, sir. What is the address of your current location?

  “188 Oak Cliff Road.”

  What is your name?

  “Danny Baker.”

  What is your friend’s name?

  “Raymond Price.”

  Okay, Danny, hang tight. Paramedics are on their way.

  “Thank you,” he said with a sigh of relief.

  Are there any other visible injuries? Is Raymond still conscious?

  “He’s awake and talking. Nothing else I can see. The frame was falling and he used his arm to try to stop it. I think he broke its fall, but it did still land on him. It’s lying across his chest and upper shoulder.”

  I tensed when I heard the sound of sirens approaching.

  “I can hear sirens,” Danny said, relaying the information to the person on the other end of the phone.

  I’ve confirmed help has arrived. Please call back if you need further assistance. Goodbye.

  Danny hung up the phone and turned back to me. “I have to go let them in. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

  I watched as Danny raced toward the back door, leaving it open in his haste. I listened to the sound of my front door opening and Danny’s voice mixing with that of someone else—a Stranger. In. My. House!

  Embarrassed beyond belief, I closed my eyes and turned my head back up, blocking out the sounds of people invading my private space.

  A minute later, I sensed the presence of someone kneeling beside me.

  “Raymond?” a soft, soothing voice asked as a hand pressed into my neck, checking my pulse. “Raymond, can you hear me?”

  Nodding, I kept my eyes closed and waited.

  “Raymond, can you open your eyes for me?”

  I opened my eyes and took in the handsome man kneeling over me. Of course, it was just my luck that the guy sent to help me was a wet dream come true. His blue eyes were concerned and sympathetic, his brown hair was cut short, and he had a jawline for days. And the uniform! I didn’t know I had a uniform kink, but the deep navy button-up shirt tucked into matching pants was going to feature prominently in my next fantasies.

  “Are you in any immediate pain?”

  Shaking my head, I ignored all the people I sensed walking around me—a lot more than the two I’d expected—and focused on his face.

  “I need words if you can, Raymond.”

  The demanding tone and caring attitude flipped every switch I had, sending me right into a little frame of mind. My bottom lip trembled as my eyes filled with tears. “My arm hurts and I’m scared,” I said in a soft whimper.

  His eyes widened and his eyebrows arched high on his face. I guess it wasn’t every day a grown man cried and said he was scared over a broken arm. A more manly man’s man would have toughed it out, would have done anything to pretend it didn’t hurt, but that wasn’t me.

  “It’ll be okay, Raymond. I’ll take good care of you.”

  “Red.”

  “What?” he asked, turning to the beam still lying across my chest.

  “I go by Red. No one calls me Raymond anymore.”

  “Alright, Red,” he said, throwing me a quick smile. “I’m going to check your stomach and shoulder for any other injuries. Tell me if something hurts.”

  “Okay,” I said quietly.

  He spent the next few minutes carefully pressing my body around the frame. Nothing hurt until he pressed on one spot on my left side.

  “Oww,” I cried suddenly as a sharp pain radiated out from under his fingertips.

  “Okay, Red, you’re doing great. Everything is looking good, but you might have a cracked rib. We’re going to lift the beam off you now. I need you to tell me if anything else starts hurting and you need to stay still. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes.”

  When three more men stepped around me and placed their hands under the beam, I closed my eyes and waited. I felt the weight lift from me and realized for the first time just how hard it had been to breathe.

  “Now, Red, this might be a little painful, but we need to immobilize your arm.”

  From the look on Danny’s face, I knew my arm was noticeably broken so I refused to watch. Turning my head away, I hissed as they slid something rigid and flat under my arm. I felt a hand gently soothe up and down my upper arm as my knight in shining navy murmured calm reassurances to me as strips of fabric were tied near my elbow and wrist, binding my arm to the board. That wasn’t the kind of bondage I was used to or liked, I thought with a wry smile.

  “Okay, Red, all done.”

  I opened my eyes to find the man was back.

  “We’re going to place you on a stretcher and get you to a hospital. I’m sorry but your friend can’t ride in the ambulance with you.”

  I looked over to find Danny watching anxiously from several feet away.

  Danny snapped out of it when he noticed the paramedic was talking about him. “That’s okay. I figured that would be the case anyway since I’m not a member of his family or his significant other. What hospital are you taking him to?”

  Danny and the paramedic continued to talk, but I ignored them as another man wheeled over a big, crazy looking stretcher. I had no idea how they were going to get me up on the giant thing when two of the men did some quick motion and the bed was on the ground next to me. How cool.

  The paramedics, and what I now realized were firefighters, lifted me onto the stretcher, strapped me in, and whisked me away. Handsome Paramedic Guy, as I called him in my head, stayed by my side the entire time, even when we made the embarrassing trek through my house. I kept my eyes closed for that part and ignored the quiet mutters I heard among everyone else.

  “I’ll get y
our things and meet you at the hospital,” Danny said as we cleared the front door.

  “All my paperwork and stuff is in the—”

  “I know where it’s all at, Red. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  “Thanks, Danny.”

  He gave me a quick smile and turned to Handsome Paramedic Guy. “You take care of him.”

  Instead of protesting his words or Danny’s tone, he just nodded. “I will.”

  After that, I was summarily lifted into the ambulance and Handsome Paramedic Guy climbed in after me, his partner moving around to the driver’s side.

  “How are you feeling?”

  I shrugged, stopping when even that hurt. “It’s starting to hurt more.”

  “The shock is wearing off.”

  “What’s your name?”

  Handsome Paramedic Guy turned startled eyes towards me and laughed. “I guess I forgot that part, didn’t I? I’m Nathan, Nate Lane.” He stared at me for a moment with a considering look on his face. “Can I ask you a question?”

  I swallowed, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. Why did my house look like a child decorated it? What was with all the toys? What was wrong with me? What kind of freak was I?

  “Why do you have a bolt in your hand?”

  “What?” I looked down and sure enough, the bolt was still in my right hand. Laughing, I lifted it and gestured towards him with it. “I’ll have you know, this is a very important bolt.”

  Nate smiled at my teasing tone. “Oh yeah, and why is that bolt so important?”

  “This bolt,” I said, waving it in the air. “This special, magical bolt is the one I forgot to put in to keep the frame attached to the rest of the playscape. This bolt cost me a broken arm and a trip to the hospital.”

  Nate looked startled for a moment before busting out laughing. “That’s one expensive bolt.”