#; bet he would try to talk again with her but I guess they need to both calm down

[5sospenguinqueen]

Terrible Two | Max Verstappen x Hamilton! Reader

Summary: Lewis hates the idea of Max dating his sister. Not because he's overprotective but because he’s trying to save the younger driver from the insanity of his sister. Or the one where Y/N terrorises the Grid OFF the track and Max terrorises them ON the track.

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff. Not 2021.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

Requested by @shelbyteller

Main Masterlist

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YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and others

YourUserName race day with my favourite hamilton (oh, and lewis was there too, i guess) 💚 tagged: roscoelovescoco, lewishamilton

9,457 comments

User 1 i live for the hamilton sibling shade

lewishamilton i miss how peaceful my life was before you were born

→ YourUserName i miss how peaceful my life was before i was born too

→ User2 oof, felt that

roscoelovescoco loves you aunty y/n

→ YourUserName and i love you my sweet boy. i’m already planning my next attempt to kidnap you

→ User3 i love that she wastes no time to pick on lewis but plays along with his roscoe account

→ YourUserName i don’t play when it comes to my fluffy man

User4 miss thing, you are not slick. we all see the red bull in the last slide

→ User5 omg and they were seen chatting outside the space between the two garages earlier

→ User6 she was also seen talking to charles, pierre, valtteri and george but i don’t see any of you linking them together?

→ User7 her and Charles tho

→ User6 ffs 🙄

mercedesamgf1 you and roscoe are also our favourite hamiltons

→ lewishamilton i just can’t catch a break

charles_leclerc thank you for letting me into the garage to see the baby 🐶

maxverstappen1 always nice having you around the paddock

liked by YourUserName

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YourUserName just posted

liked by alex_albon, lewishamilton and others

YourUserName another weekend, another flex 🏁. also, thank you to @ nike for literally being the reason i get to chase my brother around the world tagged: lewishamilton, georgerussell63

7,669 commnets

georgerussell63 will you stop eating my snacks

→ YourUserName no, you don’t need them. your trainer says you’re getting fat

→ georgerussell63 don’t tell lies!

lewishamilton shoes on the bed!!

→ YourUserName they never touched the bed! and they’ve never even touched the ground!

→ YourUserName get off my post!

→ YourUserName go lose some races!

→ lewishamilton just like you’ve lost my love!

→ YourUserName i never wanted it in the first place!

charles_leclerc perhaps you could wear red next?

→ landonorris nah mate. papaya all the way

→ maxverstappen1 i think she'd look better in blue

liked by YourUserName

mercedesamgf1 thank you for being the most entertaining member of the garage

→ georgerussell63 admin, how could you? i thought i was the best 🥺

User8 i'm living for y/n's sponsored post for work literally leads to her terrorising half the grid

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User9 no because the way this woman had him blushing and kicking his feet outside his own garage earlier, he’s smitten

→ User10 i was in the paddock and no joke, he giggled!

User11 um i highly doubt max is flirting with y/n to mess with lewis, if anything, lewis asked y/n to flirt with max to mess up his game

→ User12 i bet you’re feeling real foolish about this comment now (race day tweet)

→ User13 agreed with user12, if anything the flirting fuelled max because he won with an 8 second lead

User14 no because they would be far too hot for any of us to handle

YourUserName oh look at that, I’m trending again

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YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName thanks for having me @ redbullracing. it was a different perspective of the track, that’s for sure. well done on your 1-2 tagged: maxverstappen1

10,347 comments

mercedesamgf1 but you’re still a traitor 💔

lewishamilton i missed you

→ YourUserName @ lewishamilton you’re so needy

→ YourUserName but i missed you too

redbullracing our good luck charm

→ georgerussell63 back off. you can’t have her

→ mercedesamgf1 @ georgerussell63 you tell ‘em, boo

maxverstappen1 it was a delight to have you

→ User15 dude you need better rizz than that

charles_leclerc ferrari in the future?

→ lewishamilton no

→ georgerussell63 no

→ mercedesamgf1 no

→ maxverstappen1 no

(this comment has been deleted)

danielricciardo i tried getting you to visit me there for years but max comes along and asks ONCE

liked by maxverstappen1

→ User15 omg max invited her

→ User16 omg she was there for work

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YourUserName just posted

liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and others

YourUserName he said he liked my curls so I let him take me for a drive

6,669 comments

yourfriend okay but the hair is looking fire

lewishamilton who’s car is that

lewishamilton where are you

lewishamilton who are you with

lewishamilton I know you’re on your phone. stop ignoring my comments

→ User1 lewis is killing me

→ User2 she’s really making him work up a sweat

yourfriend2 these pics are killing me. salivating

→ yourfriend3 agreed. bark bark woof woof

liked by YourUserName

liked by maxverstappen1

User3 okay but doesn’t that look a lot like max’s recent car?

→ lewishamilton show me the evidence

→ User3 omg no way you replied

→ User4 you literally can barely see the car but okay?

maxverstappen1 was he at least a good driver?

→ YourUserName i don’t know. he hit the curb and was a bit on the slow side

→ User5 you ain't slick, sis

landonorris omg you promised you wouldn’t tell anyone about us

→ YourUserName omg but you kept asking me for curl care routines. how could i resist?

alex_albon i mean the curls are nice but i don’t know how he can put up with your personality

→ YourUserName @ lilymhe dump him

→ lilymhe but he’s losing? so i feel like i have to wait until the season is over

→ alex_albon babe!

User6 do they need a third

User7 everybody stay FUCKIGN CALM!

User8 okay but the way he holds her when he kisses her 🥹

User9 can somebody check on lewis? i feel he may not be able to handle this

User10 anyone else think these photos are an absolute invasion of privacy? how disgusting

→ User11 oh agreed. we hate that this was done but we're also so happy that they're together

User12 the dream team. one can terrorise the grid OFF the track and one terrorises them ON the track

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YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and others

YourUserName when bae is thirsty so am i 💦

11,342 comments

User13 is this a hard launch

→ User14 no, i think the paps did that for them

→ maxverstappen1 she had a 10 page document of plans for a soft launch as well

→ User15 um miss y/n, we'll still take those posts please

User16 does this mean we’re going to be getting y/n in the red bull garage from now to on and not Merc :(

→ georgerussell63 we were told we had to have shared custody

→ mercedesedamgf1 toto and christian had to sign a contract

lewishamilton i don’t like this. i'm happy for you but i do not need max verstappen thirst traps all over my feed

→ YourUserName well, i know you much prefer the real thing but you’re not allowed to drool over that anymore

→ lewishamilton how do i disown you?

→ YourUserName i've been asking myself that question for years

danielricciardo woohoo maxie. i wasn't familiar with you like that

charles_leclerc it's nice to see the two of you finally together so that max stops talking to me in the cool down room about your beauty

→ maxverstappen1 shut the fuck up.

→ YourUserName @ maxverstappen1 aww you think i’m pretty

→ maxverstappen1 of course I do

landonorris how could you do this to me. i thought we were forever

→ YourUserName we weren’t even for 2 minutes

→ danielricciardo she only likes champions, mate

redbullracing going to need these blown up and out in the garage

→ YourUserName already on it

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YourUserName just posted

liked by mercedesamgf1, nicorosberg and others

YourUserName just a couple of besties aka my brother wants to steal my boyfriend tagged: maxverstappen1, lewishamilton

7,555 comments

danielricciardo i think you mean MY boyfriend

→ YourUserName max told me your little fling meant nothing to him

→ danielricciardo @ maxverstappen1 you bitch!

→ maxverstappen1 i'm sorry but y/n means more to me than our night together

→ danielricciardo take it back

→ YourUserName your head game just wasn’t that strong

→ lewishamilton @ YourUserName i hate you for making me read that

georgerussell63 why don’t you take pics like this of me with lewis 🥺 i like him more than max does

→ YourUserName @ lewishamilton you’re upsetting all of your boyfriends tonight

→ lewishamilton i hate you

landonorris does this mean you’re free for me to hit you up

→ maxverstappen1 watch your back on the track

→ redbullracing @ maxverstappen1 christian said you’re not allowed to say that online anymore

→ maxverstappen1 for legal purposes, my previous comment was a joke

maxverstappen1 you’re the only Hamilton for me, schatje

→ YourUserName love you baby

→ maxverstappen1 love you too 💕

→ charles_leclerc @ maxverstappen1 i miss when you loved me

mercedesamgf1 please stop posting these. you’re making the rest of the grid jealous

mclaren please stop upsetting the grid by revealing their affairs. now they’re all crying

williamsracing @ YourUserName for the sake of the race, please stop stealing max from his boyfriends. they can’t drive through their tears

redbullracing we need more content like this, please. if the other drivers are too heartsick, there’s nothing standing in our way

→ redbullracing for legal reasons, this is a joke

[distopea]

Like a ticking bomb between them, words were overflowing into their mouths before they could think about it. Both of them were prideful idiots, and the lack of communication was their worst enemy at this very moment. He noticed her shift of attitude, her lack of confidence regarding if they were indeed in danger or not, but scratching her ego was a deeper wound than being truly worried about the rest of their journey. He had found that switch inside of her, once again, preventing the conversation from being remotely mature. They were both adults, but sometimes, they had the talking ability of teenagers. 

“For fuck’s sake, Hibiko, of course she could have been! You told me to be careful, the very fact you’re terrified to show your face should have been enough for you to stop yourself from talking to anyone!” His anger matched hers, even more when she was excusing her attitude over something so lame and dull than having a chat with someone in a shop. She didn’t want to lose face, and he could understand, but at the same time, he was profoundly worried and only wanted to protect her. 

“Are you kidding me?” Now he understood, but far too late. She had silently opened one important door earlier, and he hadn’t read the signals. He hadn’t understood how worried she was, and the fact she wanted him to ask for further information. Despite having the same goal, there was a big misunderstanding. “I… I have never treated you that way and you know it. You think you’re some kind of overtime for me?” But he was seeing red again, accused of things he had never done. All that push and pull game between them felt utterly irritating now she was shoving into his face all of this bitter poison. “I thought you didn't want me to sniff into your privacy, and now you want more from me? What do you want exactly, Hibiko? Am I not devoted enough? It’s never enough, isn’t it?” 

Yet, when she demanded he unlock the car, he hesitated for a second before slamming the button and letting her having her space. “Hibiko!” He wanted to warn her, to tell her to be careful, but at the same time, all that scolding felt outside of his line of work. She escaped the car and he deeply and profoundly breathed. He grabbed the wheel to control his emotions, his heart pounding inside his chest. He needed to stay down.

Even if he was attracted to her, she was still his boss. After a few seconds, he looked aside to be certain she was still there, remembering that, despite all those feelings, he was still working for her. He started to grab the handle of the door to get out of the car himself, but she moved faster, getting back inside the vehicle but keeping her distance this time. 

He observed her through the mirror, his own heart squeezed harder when he noticed she was so close to crying. He was facing such an awful dilemma right now, knowing that if he ever tried to comfort her, he would be crossing another line. He had to fucking stop messing with his work like that. He pinched his lips harder to stop himself from talking. He inhaled and started the engine again, switching the GPS back on. 

He joined the highway once more, his eyes focused on the road, even if they were easily attracted by her sight. He hated to see her so silent, vulnerable, and he hated himself even more for being the reason why she was in such a state of mind. The silence between them was quite oppressive, but even so, he didn’t know what to do.

“We’re getting closer to our destination.” He eventually said, with a softer tone. She would probably ignore him now. Gabriele was ready to face her disappointment. Deep down, though, he already knew he would find a moment later tonight to talk with her again, after they would be perhaps less inclined to lose their temper, and certainly far from the madding crowd. 

An eyeroll before looking to Gabriele, grasping so much that he wanted her attention back from all the huffing and puffing he wasn't letting Hibiko ignore. "Okay slow down for one," she ordered, trying to regain control of the situation as his driving caused her to take a firm hold on anything to anchor herself. "No, I don't-" think so. Confidence in the lie faltered as she was too quick to deny any chance of danger. The stutter is clearly enough to be a dead giveaway.

It was like she saw them heading towards a concrete wall and was unable to do anything about it. Hibiko quickly felt herself begin to crumble with guilt and remorse over the selfish stress she caused for Gabriele. As he changed course, Hibiko prepared herself to beg for forgiveness, wishing to wash the whole incident behind them. But his anger built up just as quickly, not allowing her the opportunity to take responsibility.

Hitting a switch, Pride being faced with his demands put an immediate stop to that weak girl wanting to explain herself, and instead took over. "Because two women at a beauty shop are going to be yakuza?" She rhetorically snapped back, ignoring the fact that the queen had a similar concern before going in.

Her head and shoulders turned away from the road to confront Gabriele about the outburst she attempted to prevent. "Funny, I remember offering you a further explanation and you decided it easiest to just work off knowledge gained from rumors and baseless accusations." The assumptions Hibiko made were leaps and bounds from where they were in reality, but the idea that Gabriele assumed he knew all he needed from what was heard from other employees and guests was significantly easier to swallow than the reality of this just being another job. "All you care about is some nice overtime, right? So long as I get home in one piece, nothing else matters."

Suddenly feeling suffocated, the seatbelt came off and she attempted to open the locked door. "You're going to take the easy way of protecting me from everything outside of four controlled walls-- Open the fucking door." She demanded, needing the fresh air to somehow cure her overflowing emotions. It wasn't as if there was anywhere to run to, anyway, so long as she was given some distance from the root cause of this disastrous drive.

Slamming the car door behind her, Hibiko stood there a moment, waiting to feel better about the release of frustration that was hardly good enough. It only took a few breaths before having enough clarity to know it was better to stay in the car. Ripping the ugly sweater off, Hibiko threw it in the back seat before joining it, now seated at a safe distance from the emotionless brick wall she had tried to warn earlier before being pushed away.

Finally safe in her rightful spot, the tension that had built up suddenly attempted to release itself. But it was not how she wanted it to. She felt her eyes begin to water, forcing choked back tears as the anger tried to fully return to the more honest reaction: hurt. Hurt that he refused her earlier confessional, but embarrassment and regret for getting caught in her own web.

It took everything in her to not let her vulnerability show. A progressively tightening brow, a jaw clenching more and more with each little twitch she had to fight against. A pensive silence filled the car. Without any further visual or verbal communication, she mentally begged him to drive, unable to run away from the shame on her own.

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

HAT-TRICK

• jude bellingham x gf!reader

• warnings: a little bit suggestive at the end, and English not being my first language.

• summary: Jude Bellingham has been a bit distracted on the field. Maybe what he needs is a little motivation to get back on track, or so his girlfriend thinks...

a/n: make a request!

Jude Bellingham has always been astute, focused, and relentless on the pitch. Since joining Real Madrid, his star had only risen further, making him one of the most talked-about young talents in football. But lately, something had been off. His last few matches were... well, soft by his standars. He hadn´t been himself—no hunger in his tackles, no fire in his eyes, and it didn´t go unnoticed. He sat in the living room, staring at the highlights of his recent match on his phone. His touches hadn´t been sharp, and his focus had wavered at crucial moments.

It wasn´t something massive, no one will call it a slump, not yet at least. However, he could do it better, he knew it, his team and coaches knew it, and of course, she knew it too.

His girlfriend was sharp. She knew him better than anyone, and while some fans and the media were baffled by his recent performances, she had a good guess. He was distracted. He wasn´t driven the way he used to be, and she had an idea why.

That evening, they were together sat in their apartment, the Madrid skyline glowing in the background. She was quiet, scrolling through social media mindlessly, occasionally glancing at him. She could see the frustration in his eyes—his confidence shaken, his usual swagger dimmed. He didn´t need a pep talk; that wasn´t his style. No, he needed something more direct, something to light a fire under him again. An idea had been dangerously lingering her mind, maybe it was a little bit cruel—for both of them, really, nevertheless, she had a good feeling and decided to test it.

She leaned into him on the couch, her hand touching his bare chest. Jude, sensing the shift in her energy, smirked and reached out to pull her closer. His hand slipped down to her ass, clearly intending for things to heat up.

But she had other plans.

She caught his hand and pushed it away gently but firmly.

Jude blinked, surprised, then chuckled softly. "What´s that about?" His fingers brushed her thigh, teasing.

She slid away, folding her arms over her chest. "If you want to touch me, you´ll have to score a hat-trick."

Said out loud, the idea sounded even more ridiculous, and for a moment, she feared it would sit poorly with him. However, she knew what her boyfriend was like when challenged: stubborn, enthusiastic, firm, and determined. There had been countless times when the two of them had competed or made bets over simple things in exchange for something silly. Neither of them backed down from a challenge, but maybe this was going too far. Anyway, her words had already reached Jude's ears, and it was clear she had caught his attention; his posture changed, and he appeared taken by surprise.

At first he laughed, but then seeing that she wasn´t, his smirk faltered. "A hat-trick? Are you joking? I´ve got more than enough goals to deserve touching you."

She smiled, and decided to continue with her idea. "No. I´m actually dead serious." she said changing turning on their TV as if nothing.

Jude leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "You know I could make you change your mind right now, don´t you?"

Her resolve didn´t waver. She pulled away just enough to lock eyes with him, a teasing smile on her round lips. "Try me. But I´m not budging."

He narrowed his eyes, frustration growing in him, still half-expecting her to crack a smile and let that ridiculous thing go. "So are you joking or not?"

She raised an eyebrow and started walking towards their bedroom. "You´ll see."

Jude sat there for a moment, stunned. He was used to her playing games like this, however, they weren´t about something that serious, but the idea... it stuck in his head. As the night wore on, he made a few more attempts to touch her, playfully teasing, expecting her to give in. But each time, she stood her ground, deflecting him with the same challenge: not until you score a hat-trick.

By the next morning, his frustration was palpable. He tried one last time before training, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, pressing himself to her back, and his lips to her neck. "You sure about this, babe?"

She turned in his arms, still kind of sleepy, a knowing smile on her face. "Go score some goals, Jude."

Jude let out a slow breath, his jaw tightening. He loved her playful side, but this was a new level of torment. She was using his natural competitiveness against him. What´s more, the game was seven days from today.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice low. “You want a hat-trick? I’ll give you a bloody hat-trick.”

She just smiled against the pillow.

Sadly, she wasn´t able to attend the match that day. Work had gotten in the way, so she was stuck at home watching it on their TV. She had written to him, of course, as she always did when she couldn’t go to the Bernabéu to see the match, wishing him good luck with a couple of white heart emojis and a four-leaf clover. Then, taking advantage of the moment, she had half-joked about not being able to see his "attempt" at the hat-trick in person, but part of her wondered if her challenge would actually work. Not going to lie, she was kind of nervous. He could see him vibrating through the screen with tension every time the camera focused on him.

However, she probably was the most anxious since Jude was animatedly talking to his teammates, as he always did before a game. He wasn’t nervous at all, on the contrary, the memory of her challenge, the way she had teased him all week, stirred something deep inside him. It was no longer just a game; it became something more personal the moment he saw his girlfriend's messages. He hadn’t been bothered at all; on the contrary, he had put his phone away after glancing at the screen and smiling mockingly—surely the same smile she had worn when sending the message.

When the game started, it was clear something had changed. Jude was moving with an intensity that hadn´t been there in the past few matches. His touches were sharp, his passes precise, and he was pressing harder than ever. The commentators noticed it immediately and the crowd was roaring.

Jude left his girlfriend glued to the screen, watching in awe as he ran through the field. It didn´t take long before he found the back of the net, a clean strike from just outside the box that made her jump up from the couch.

But he wasn´t done.

By halftime, he had already scored two goals.

Jude´s third goal was pure instinct—a deft finish after weaving past two defenders and slotting the ball into the bottom corner. Hat-trick. The Bernabéu erupted, but Jude´s attention went to the nearest camera, his heart pounding with adrenaline. He couldn´t hold back his smirk, his chest heaving from the effort of the match, as he pointed directly at the lens and mouthed: "It´s your time to pay, gorgeous!"

She burst out laughing, shaking her head in disbelief. He had done it. Her heart filled with pride and joy and she could not stop smiling.

Jude got home later that night, his energy still buzzing from the game, dropped his bag by the entrance and called out, "Babe?"

From the living room, he heard her voice, casual but with a teasing edge. "Hey Jude. Just finishing some work." That was an absolute lie, she had been ogling some clothes in a shopping web minutes before she heard the keys.

Jude smirked, knowing better. His footsteps echoed as he approached her, spotting her on the couch with her laptop open, her legs folded. She glanced up with a small smile, playing it cool.

"So... how was the match?" she asked innocently, her eyes flickering mischievously before she returned her gaze to her screen. “I got caught up with this and I couldn’t watch it.”

He chuckled, looking down at her. Of course she had been watching the game. She always did it. Always. “You know damn well how it went. Haven't you been teasing me enough this week?” His voice was low, his words dripping with confidence.

She shrugged, her fingers tapping the keys, but he could see the slight twitch of her lips, the subtle way her body tensed as he loomed over her. “What? Did you manage to finally score?” she asked playfully.

Jude moved around the couch, towering over her now, his hand gently closing her laptop. She looked up at him, her pulse quickening. There was a glint in his eyes that made her stomach flutter.

“I—,” she tried to say.

But tired of her never ending teases, Jude closed the distance, capturing her lips with his. The kiss was electric, igniting a fire that had been building all week. He slid his hands to her waist, letting himself finally feel her and pulling her closer, deepening the kiss as their mouths moved in perfect harmony.

She responded eagerly, god how much she had missed his hands around her body. She let her fingers tangle in his hair, drawing him nearer. As their passion escalated, he lifted her off the chair, wrapping her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the nearest wall, their bodies melting together.

“I think we should celebrate properly” Jude murmured, his lips trailing along her neck, igniting every nerve ending in her body.

She moaned nodding and with a triumphant grin, Jude captured her lips once more. “You know,” he said catching his breath. “I bet I can make you cum three times.”

[cameronspecial]

cpuld u do an angst to happy ending with rafe where like there could be a bet that he dates the reader kind of like the plot of ‘after’ if youve seen or read it and when she finds out shes like “youre breaking my heart” like that scene from padme and anakin but it ends up happy? MEERY CHRISTMASSS

You're Breaking My Heart

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

A/N: Merry Christmas to you too! I'm so sorry this is late.

Masterlist

Y/N should’ve known he was going to break her heart. He isn’t meant to be in a relationship; he isn’t one to be tied down. What she heard just proved it. “I bet that I can have her wanting me by the end of the year,” he says in the video coming from her phone. It was sent from an unknown number to her and Rafe, yet it doesn’t matter because the damage is already done. The front door opens and he comes through the door with the takeout he went to get. His grin is wide as he looks at her, setting the bag on the table. He notices her sombre mood and hurries to her side. “What happened?” he asks, holding her face between his hands. She steps out of his grasp and escapes his touch every time he tries to approach. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he repeats. She lets her tears brim at the corner of her eyes, refusing to look at him. “Tell me what happened!” Having enough of his questioning, she whips towards him with anger. “You’re breaking my heart. That’s what’s wrong,” she yells, staring daggers at him. His frustration grows as he tugs at the end of his hair, “What are you talking about? What did I do, Baby?” She shoves his phone into his chest. “You went down a path I never thought you would. You are a liar and a cheat and I hope I never see you again,” she mumbles, picking up her purse and storming out. 

His phone screen lights up and he sees a text notification. He opens the video attached, not needing to see more than a second of it to know what it is. It’s a video of the night he said something he never should’ve said because now, it ruined the best thing he ever had. 

———

The tears haven’t stopped pouring in hours and she doesn’t know how to stop it. The knock at the door pulls her from her bed cocoon. She pads towards the door and swings it open, immediately trying to close it when she sees who it is. His strong hand stops her and he pushes his way in. “I don’t want you here,” she sniffles, turning away so he can’t see her vulnerable state. His heart aches at her pain, “I know, but we need to talk.” 

“I don’t want to talk to a liar and to someone who doesn’t even love me.” 

By now, he has cornered her against the wall and she has to crane her neck to look at him. His fist slams against the wall, “Don’t say that.” He takes a deep breath when he sees her small jump in fear. He brings his hand up to place on her cheek but second-guesses himself at the memory of her removing herself from his hold. The new tears that begin to crop up make him hate himself even more. He runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry. Can we please just talk?” “Okay,” she mumbles, a little afraid of what he may do. Although, deep down, she knows he would never hurt her. She holds her hand up with her palm up for him to begin. He takes a step back and lets out a breath. “I do love you. And I know I should say the bet was a mistake, except it wasn’t,” he begins. She chuckles, “That is a horrible way to begin.” He rests his warm hand on her cheek. “Because without it, then I wouldn’t have been able to get to know how amazing you are. And that is a thought that kills me,” he states, drawing a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Why would it kill you?” she mutters, letting her heart lead the conversation. He lowers his face closer to her, “Because you are the only thing in my life that has ever made me feel alive. I will understand if you can never forgive me and I will forever be sorry for the pain this bet has caused, but I will never be sorry for making it because it gave me my time with you.” Her heart tells her to jump into his arms and forgive him, yet her brain tells her to slow down. Sweet words don’t mean all is alright. So, she settles for something in between. She holds him above his elbows and looks into his eyes. “If you really feel that way, then I guess we can try again,” she offers. The excitement he shows is cut short by her continuation. “However, you have a lot to do to gain back my trust and we can’t pretend you never hurt me.” He nods like a madman, “I’m fine with that. I would rather have to walk on broken glass without you if it leads me to your trust than to lose you forever.” She wraps her arms around her waist, bringing him down for a kiss. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath (Steddie X Plus Size You)

"She's got a secret underneath (she's got a secret underneath) Yeah, she's his naughty little freak (yeah, she's his naughty, little freak) She likes to put on a show (she likes to put on a show) She likes when he takes control (she likes when he takes control)"

A/N: This came from utter annoyance at men online and just desperately trying to find a confident man who cares.

ENJOY!

Warnings: Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, daddy kink (cause im me), blindfold, toys, voyeurism (I guess. They watch her pleasure herself on cam), dirty talk. Sub/dom dynamics, oh um age difference even though its not mentioned (guys are about mid to late 30s and Reader is in her mid to late 20s)

ANGST, Reader is assaulted by an ex (mentioned but not expanded on) boys comfort her, mentions of her wanting to be held and tired of feeling lonely, guys online try to flirt in the beginning but she shuts them down. I think that's it. Cliffhanger ending because again...Im me.

Word Count: 5555 (ooooo :P)

“I can take care of a young little thing like you. You’re perfect”

“If I’m perfect why do I need someone to take care of me?”

“Do you want to help Daddy finish, baby? My big hard cock needs some help.”

“Oof a real Daddy doesn’t need to announce how big his cock is. Try again, little boy.”

“I bet a little girl like you needs to be put in her fucking place, you stupid fucking slut. Now get naked and send me nudes or else.”

You role your eyes as you promptly block the person who sent you the message. When you signed up for this sugar baby website you were hopeful to find someone who wasn’t like the “men” you had talked to on regular dating apps. You wanted someone who knew what they were doing, confident, and could handle your sass without running. 

You had met a few who could live up to the title but none you wanted to keep around long term. 

Sliding your mouse through the images, you found a profile that intrigued you. The image attached wasn’t of one man but two and it didn’t show their faces. It wasn’t odd for the Babies to want anonymity like yourself but your profile picture at least showed all of you in your curvy glory with a mask blocking your eyes and lingerie blocking everything else. Daddies always felt the need to show off so usually their profile images accentuated their faces and/or their money.

These two, with an account named Mogul/Rockstar, were only photographed from the neck down and it was definitely a picture they took, not some professional or anything like that. The man on the left had a black, well fitted suit with his admittedly gorgeous hands holding a glass of whiskey. The man on the right was a bit less put together with torn jeans and a blue jean vest over his bare chest just barely blocking the tattoos that peaked out. You assume he must have long hair because the ends of wavy locks rested on his shoulders.

When most men reached out to you it was with some silly pick-up line or innuendo. This profile, however, simply sent you one word; “Hello.”

(8:45pm) “Hey there. Not much for words?”

(8:47pm) “We imagine you’ve heard them all. : ). “

(8:48pm) “Are you really two people? Or do you just have an extra ego?”

(8:48pm) “Oh or let me guess! Your dick is so big it counts as another person.

(8:50pm) “I mean my friend IS a big dick but lol”

(8:51pm) “Yeah, honey, it’s really two people. We like to be clear about that. Any Baby that becomes ours would be just that; ours. 

(8:53pm) “We’ve learned pretty quickly not many women feel comfortable with two Daddies which is absolutely fine and why we are up front.”

(8:54pm) “How up front are you being really when you don’t show your face?”

(8:55pm) “Hm. Not a yes girl. I like that. It’s good to ask questions. 

(8:57pm) “We do that for a couple of reasons. One being we are well known faces so we don’t want a Baby to choose us solely on that.”

(8:57pm) “Because you don’t want to be embarrassed?”

(9:00pm) “Asking questions is good. Interrupting isn’t. Don’t do it again.”

(9:01pm) “Or what?”

…

(9:08pm) “Or what, huh?”

(9:15pm) “Fuck you! Ignoring isn’t very Daddy like!”

(9:16pm) “Oh? Did little baby get her feelings hurt? We don’t ignore as punishments but you aren’t ours yet, sweetheart. If you don’t want to follow any rules that’s fine. We can just continue looking and you can be a brat with someone else.”

(9:18pm) “I’m sorry.”

(9:19pm) “What’s the other reason?”

(9:22pm) “Actually, that’s the biggest reason. Our fame gets in the way of a lot of things if you can believe it. Expectations are ruined and certain ideals are put in place.”

(9:23pm) “My reputation as a rockstar makes some ladies think I can’t be soft and I definitely can. Our image isn’t solely who we are.”

(9:25pm) “I can understand that. Being a bigger girl people think I’m either desperate or my weight becomes a fetish to them. Which, I mean, fetishes are fine but men make me feel like…it’s the ONLY reason they are sexually attracted to me.”

(9:26pm) “And not because of your personality. Yeah…”

(9:28pm) “Is that why you’re a bit of a brat? Lol need to weed out the idiots?”

(9:30pm) “Something like that. Lol.”

(9:32pm) “Baby, I think my friend and I are in agreement that we’d like to try this out if you’re willing. You don’t have to see us or do anything you don’t want. Per the anonymity that was mentioned, we aren’t going to give our names so you don’t have too either. We also won’t be showing our faces so, again, you don’t have to.”

(9:33pm) “More than anything, we just want someone to look out for and talk to. Maybe make you feel good from time to time if you let us.”

(9:35pm) “Ok, Daddy.”

(9:36pm) “Good. Good girl. : ). We can talk on here until the three of us get more comfortable and then we can give you our numbers so you can talk to us there or individually. As you can imagine, rockstar travels a lot and so do I for deals so we aren’t always together 24/7.”

(9:40pm) “Are you both friends or partners?”

(9:42pm) “Friends for sure.”

(9:43pm) “Ok, baby girl, we’ll let you go but we’ll talk to you tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

(9:45pm) “Good night, Daddy.”

(9:46pm) “*Daddies”

(9:48pm) “Good night, honey.”

(9:48pm) “Sweet dreams, princess.”

As you laid in bed that night, you couldn’t help but wonder who they could be. You did some quick googling of businessmen who were friends with rockstars but that was stupid because that was a very common friendship found within industries. Rolling over, you plugged in your phone to charge it, pausing when you heard it ding.

Mogul/Rockstar deposited $300 into your account!!

Wow. No man had ever sent you that much just for an introductory conversation. Maybe because it was two of them they felt the need? As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself getting more and more curious about them, dreaming of possibilities that may come to be.

############

That first month went by a lot smoother than you expected it to when it came to this account. They were incredibly kind and genuinely seemed to care about your day and what you were up to. Any time you voiced any kind of concern, they listened and did what they could. For example, you wished you could tell who was responding when since at the moment they replied as one. A few minutes later Rockstar changed his text to be red so you knew you were talking to him. 

When it came to finances, they were more than generous, giving you a set amount of $500 at the end of each day. They never once asked for anything sexual or made innuendos about their bodies or yours. 

As the second month began however you found yourself getting antsy.

(6:42pm) “May I ask a question?”

(6:43pm) “Yeah, of course, anything, honey.”

(6:45pm) “Can we do something…I mean can you help me…”

(6:46pm) “We can help with anything, princess. You just have to ask like a big girl.”

(6:47pm) “Can you…help me cum…”

(6:47pm) “Please, Daddy.”

(6:48pm) “We can do that for you, pretty girl. If you want. You remember the rules?”

(6:48pm) “Yes, Daddy.”

(6:49pm) “You don’t even have to turn on your camera or mic or anything. You can just…watch me.”

(6:50pm) “We never do anything we don’t want to do.”

(6:51pm) “But we would love to watch you cum. Do you have toys or were you just going to use your fingers?”

(6:53pm) “I have toys, Daddy.”

(6:54pm) “I actually just got this rabbit vibrator but I have no idea how to use it.”

(6:57pm) Mogul/ Rockstar has invited you for a video chat.

Biting your bottom lip, you grab your mask and pull it over your eyes, checking your appearance in the camera box before clicking their link. The camera box was still just their image from the site which you expected but was pleasantly surprised when a husky voice flowed through your speakers. 

“Hey, honey. You don’t have to turn your mic on if you don’t want to. We just thought it would be fair since you’re about to vulnerable with us.”

You smiled as you turned on your microphone. 

“Is it vulnerable? It’s just…masturbating right?”

“I mean, are you playing with yourself on the internet for just anyone?”

The second voice that followed through sounded extremely familiar as if you heard it somewhere before. It was incredibly sexy none the less. 

“No.”

“Then I would say you’re being vulnerable, babe. Jesus, you are really beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”, you beam.

“Can we ask why shorts and an oversized shirt? Most women wear the lingerie or a bra and panties.”

“Or are totally naked.”

“I just want to be comfortable. I’m not roaming around my house in a bra and panties.”, you giggle. “I take those off as soon as I get home from work.”

“Very fair. We’ve never asked what you do. Do you feel comfortable telling us?”

“I’m a teacher. Another reason for said anonymity.”

“Again fair.”

“Um, may I ask, whose voice is whose?”

“Yeah, pretty girl. I’m the Mogul.”

“I’m the rockstar.”

Smiling, you nod but you find yourself completely unsure of how to proceed. Usually, you could play innocent and do what you needed in the bedroom but something about these men were making you…

“Honey, are we making you a little nervous?”, Mogul asked in a sweet tone. 

“Yeah a little bit. I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry, sweetheart. Can you do your Daddies a favor and show us the toy you got?”

Like a little kid in a store, your smile grew as you opened the box by your feet and produced the pink vibrator, displaying it for them to see.

“Is that your favorite kind of toy?”

“Usually men are but—” You quickly covered your mouth with your palm not meaning to let your sass slip out like that. Again, you were surprised when you heard both men laugh.

“I like that sassy attitude.”

“The confidence to.”, Mogul adds. “Don’t cover up that personality for us, baby girl. We’re big boys. We can handle it.”

“Most men can’t.”

“Most men aren’t us.”

“That’s for damn sure.”, you smirk as your thighs rub together. 

“Why don’t you take off those short for us, sweetheart?”, Rockstar suggests as you nod, rising from your chair to bring them down and toss them aside. “Good girl. Can you open your legs for us so we can see that pretty pussy?”

Licking your lips, you close your eyes as your open your legs giving them a good view. 

“Open your eyes, baby girl, and don’t move them from the camera.”, Mogul commands in a firm tone. “Jesus, man. I bet she tastes really fucking sweet.”

“And is really fucking tight. That toy is going to stretch you out I bet.”

You moan at their words as you tease your slit with the end of the vibrator.

“I wish you both were here to help me.”, you whine as you palm slides under your shirt to massage your breast. 

“Go ahead, honey. Push it into your cunt and tell us how it feels.”

Mewling, you easily guide it inside of you, the subtle vibration against your clit driving you crazy.

“Fuck, it feels so good, Daddy.”

“Yeah, princess? Fuck, I’ve never wanted to eat a pussy so bad in my life. Look at her. I just want her to ride my face till she cums over and over.”

“Fuck…yes.”

“You’d like that, baby? Make a mess all over Rockstar’s face.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Such a dirty little girl. Can you say it for us?”

“I’m…I’m a dirty girl. Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good inside of me.”

“Fuck, baby girl. You’re so fucking sexy. Make yourself cum.”

“Can I, Daddy? Please. I’m so close.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. You have our permission.”

Your body shook as you came, your hips grinding against the toy as you elongated your high. 

“Good girl, honey. Very good. Come back to us.”

“Th-thank you. Thank you.”, you grin as you bite your lip. “Wait, did you guys cum? I wanna hear it.”

“This was about you, babe. We didn’t touch ourselves.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that we’re really fucking hard though after that display.”, Rockstar laughed.

“Are you serious? You guys didn’t…at all. Most men do.”

The image in their camera box suddenly changes and their laps from the waist down come into your view. Both men were wearing shorts and you could vaguely see their bulges poking through. Their hands were gorgeous, one littered with rings that you assumed belonged to the rockstar. 

“Again…we aren’t most men.”

“Don’t make us have to remind you again.”

Nodding, you softly apologize as you lean back in your chair.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you pouting?”, Mogul asks in a tone that makes you smile. 

“Not really. I just…I wish you could hold me.”

“Yeah…yeah, princess, we wish we could to.”

“Will you ever trust me enough to show me your faces?”

You listen as they heavily sigh.

“Maybe. Let’s just take this one step at a time, ok?”

After your good nights and lying in bed alone, you don’t know why but you begin to cry. You had been alone for so long, broken hearted from the bullshit your ex put you through. You loved what the site offered but you wondered if that momentary high would be enough to sustain you. You just wanted someone who would hold you and tell you everything was alright. Someone who would take care of you and make you feel safe so you didn’t have to worry anymore about…everything. 

As your phone dinged, you glanced at the notification that illuminated your screen. 

Mogul/Rockstar deposited $2000 into your account!!

Hardening your heart, you reminded yourself that you were strong, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as you forced yourself to sleep. 

##############

(6:15pm) “Hey beautiful. What are your plans tonight? Rockstar and I were thinking maybe the three of us could have a camera date and just talk. Nothing sexual.”

(6:17pm) “You don’t have to of course.”

(6:20pm) “Sweetheart, you know how we feel about you not answering.”

(6:25pm) “Shit, you guys. I’m so sorry. I was charging my phone while I was getting ready! I actually have plans tonight.”

(6:27pm) “Ooo that sounds like fun. Spending some time with friends?”

(6:29pm) “Not exactly lol My ex actually invited me to dinner so we could talk about some things.”

(6:30pm) “You’re going on a date?”

(6:32pm) “Um, I guess you can call it that.”

(6:32pm) “Is that a problem?”

(6:33pm) “We made it clear that if you agreed to be our Baby you would be ours.”

(6:34pm) “Virtually, yes, but the information and rules you gave me didn’t say I couldn’t go out on a date. 

(6:35pm) “What. Did you think I was just going to be ok with not knowing who you two were and never having you two fuck me or hold me. 

(6:35pm) “To not go on actual dates and feel wanted.

(6:36pm) “Needed.”

(6:38pm) “Didn’t realize you needed everything spelled out for you. Relationships take time. Like you we imagine, we’ve been burned before. We don’t want another whore who’s only dating us for our money or status. We deal with fake people enough!”

(6:39pm) “We like talking to you and you’re so beautiful. We WANT to see where this goes but if you’re in that much of a rush maybe this was a bad idea.”

This Baby is currently offline. You may leave messages for her and she will get this when she logs back in!!

***

(9:32pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude has invited you for a video chat!!

(9:34pm) Mogul/Rockstar declined your invitation for a video chat.

(9: 35pm) “Please…I need you…”

(9:38pm) “Now you need us? After your date I’m thinking didn’t go well since it’s 9:30.”

(9:39pm) “Try again, little girl. We aren’t the kind of men you use whenever you feel like.”

(9:41pm) “We have feelings to.”

(9:45pm) “What? No sassy come back? Nothing sarcastic you want to say?”

(9:50pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!!

“Jesus Christ. What happened, baby?!”

When you illuminated their screen, you were a complete mess. Your hair was frayed every which way and even under the mask covering your eyes they could tell your make up was smeared from tears. Your black dress that you had worn was torn at the sleeve, hanging down as you held it together with your hand. 

“Did that fucker hurt you?”, Rockstar growled. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who to call. I’m so sorry, Daddy. I should have stayed here with you. I’m just so tired of feeling lonely. As soon as that fucker showed me even a little bit of attention I just…”

You listened as they mumbled to each other, unable to make out what they were saying as you dried your tears with your fist. 

“We’re in New York right now. Are you close to that state?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Do you trust us? Say it.”, Mogul replies sternly when you nod.

“Yes, I trust you.”

“There’s a hotel outside of the city. I’ll message you the address and room number. You follow the instructions we give you to the letter. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

***

“Hi, um, I’m checking into a room…under, um, Baby Girl.”

You cringe as you relay the information but all the young lady does behind the hotel counter is beam over at you as she types on her computer. 

“Ah and here’s your key. Do you need an escort or anything?”

“Oh, uh, no, ma’am, thank you.”

“No problem! The gentleman said he would be right there.”

You glanced around you nervously as you rode the glass elevator up to the floor your room was at. You appreciated that they didn’t make you go to some run-down Bates Motel but you were still a bit on edge. 

Heading for the door, you paused taking a deep breath before putting in the key and slowly entering the room. It was a modest little room but lived up to its five-star rating just on looks alone. Shifting your gaze, you realized quickly you were alone but noticed a note with the words “Baby Girl” on the mattress. 

Lifting it up, you found a black silk eye mask one would use for sleeping folded underneath. 

“Please place this mask over your eyes and we will be right in. 

We know it took a lot of trust for you to drive out here so we’re trying to meet you halfway.”

Taking a seat, you sighed as you tried to put the thing over your head, struggling a bit as a bruise had begun to form where your ex tugged at your dress. 

The sound of the door clicking and swinging slowly open caught your attention as you froze in place. 

“Um, f-full disclosure, my eyes are closed as well. I couldn’t get this thing further down and I could see under the—” You point at the bottom of the mask as the door closed. 

Cologne filled your nostrils as footsteps walked closer to you. 

“Is it ok if I touch you so I can fix it?”

Your head tilted to the side at the sultry, smooth voice just above you.

“Yeah…who-who is this?”

“I’m the mogul in our name. Rockstar is on his way.”

“Were you two not together?”

You feel the atmosphere shift as he kneels in front of you and his fingers gently hold your head as he adjusts the mask to be more comfortable.

“We were but he wanted to stop and grab some things in the lobby. How does that feel?”

“Better, thank you.”

He withdrawals his hands but he doesn’t move as you feel his eyes scanning you over. Braving crossing a boundary, your hands carefully reach out and find his cheeks. Taking a hold of your wrists, Mogul helps guide your movement over his fluffy hair making you smile at how soft it is. When your thumb finds his lips, he exhales heavily and his warm breath has your pussy clenching around nothing. 

Abruptly, the door beeps and opens again as the smell of cigarettes fills the room.

“Do you know how hard it is to find ice in this goddamn palace!?”

Your head tilts again as you try to follow the new voice as he moves about the room. 

“And that would be the rockstar.”, the man in front of you assures as he pats your thigh and sits beside you. As he goes to release your hand, you immediately reach for him again, afraid of being in the dark now that they were here.

“Next building you buy should be a fucking hotel so you can put things where us humans can find them.”

You hear what sounds like someone being lightly hit as everything becomes silent again. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry. My mouth tends to move before my brain does.”, he replies in your direction at a bit of a calmer register as he bounces on to the bed beside you. “God, asshole got you good, huh? Ok, this is going to be cold.”

You yelp and wince when something freezing lands on your arm. 

“I searched for like an actual icepack but I guess the 5 stars don’t include first aid.”

“Ok! I get it. You’re not used to fancy places, dude. Jesus.”

Rockstar laughs through his teeth making you smile again as your free hand reaches towards where you assume he is. Your fingers touch hair first and your eyebrows scrunch together as you realize you found the ends just above his shoulder. 

“Yeah, I, uh, wouldn’t run my fingers through that. It’s all tangled. You may get stuck and have to stay with us forever.”, he chuckles before it trails off. 

You can feel them both watching you as your palm finds his cheek and like with his friend your thumb moves along his bottom lip. They were a bit more chapped but based on the smell you assumed that was due to the cigarettes. As your hand began to travel down his neck, you paused and pulled away not wanted to make either man uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry.”, you mumble.

“What are you sorry for, honey?”

“I don’t mean to be…that much of a brat, you know. I like talking to you both to and I want to see where this goes but…I guess I’m like him sometimes.” You pause as you gesture towards the rockstar. “My mouth moves before my brain. I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my Daddies anymore.”

Both men were silent for what felt like an eternity before the ice was removed from your skin and replaced by lips. A pleasant sigh escaped you as he tenderly kissed your bruises.

“Why did you ex hurt you?”, Mogul asked.

“Because he’s a fucker.”

“Yeah, we gathered that.”, Rockstar teased as he leaned away from you but intertwined your fingers with his. 

“He, uh, took me on a date to this tacky little restaurant that I told him a million times I hate and then on the drive home he insinuated because he took me out I’d want to…you know.”, you exhale as your head hangs. “I’m just so tired of being lonely. I just want someone to take care of me. ME. Not the supposed ‘whore who needs to be put in her place’ or ‘the desperate big girl’. I’m strong and I can take care of myself. I’m just…tired.”

Fingers tenderly moved your hair behind on of your ears. 

“God, I love your attitude.”

“It’s not uncommon for us to constantly run into ‘yes’ people. It’s one of the problems we have with Babies. Always ‘Yes, Daddy.’ Or ‘Of course, Daddy.’ Sometimes we can’t tell if it’s them being genuine or pandering to us to get what they want. Which…I guess is fine but…”

“Not what we’re looking for.”

Your hands search for Mogul’s face and he grins as he leans in allowing you to touch him. When your lips find his, however, he hastily pulls back and rises to his feet. 

“Hey, no, honey. You don’t have to do that. That’s not why we came down here.”

You feel yourself start to panic, losing your bearings since you can’t see. You had gotten used to them both being next to you and when he stood up you suddenly felt lost. 

“I’m right here, princess. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”, Rockstar murmurs in your ear as he squeezes your thigh.

“You don’t want to fuck me?”, you ask to the void, unsure of exactly where the other man may be. 

A deep, guttural groan echoes in front of you as you turn your head towards it.

“I’ve never wanted something or someone so bad in my life, baby, but… that’s not why we came here.”

“He doesn’t want you to feel used. Your ex tried to do that and he doesn’t want you to feel like we’re the same.”

“I don’t. I don’t feel that way at all, Daddy.” Your voice had dropped into that little girl tone as you fully allowed yourself to be vulnerable for them. “Please…”

Lips connected to yours again but the taste was different. The nicotine that lingered on his tongue mixed with the slight taste of mint toothpaste set your body on fire as it fully came to life and you wrapped your arms around the man’s neck as he gently tilted you onto your back.

The bed dipped on your other side and you disconnected from one set of lips to another. You became lost in his kisses as his tongue danced with yours and their hands roamed your skin. 

“We’re going to be gentle tonight, baby girl. Let us take care of you.”

You allowed them to undress you and waited patiently as they removed their own clothes. Lying on either side of you, they each lifted one of your legs over their hips as their lips and tongues sucked on your neck.

Rockstar’s fingers glided through your folds and you groaned loudly as he massaged circles into your clit. While running your hand through his hair, Mogul licked and sucked on one of your nipples making your hips buck as you searched for more friction. 

“Please.”

“What do you want, sweetheart? You want my fingers?”

“Yes, Daddy, please.”

His nose presses against your cheek, his mouth opening in a silent moan as he effortlessly guides two of his digits inside of your core. 

“Fuck. I was right. You are tight. Jesus, sweetheart, our cocks are going to stretch you open, baby.”

“Can…Can I have you both?”

“Can you handle that?”, Mogul asked with a slight whine of want. 

“Yeah, Daddy. I can, I promise.”

“Baby girl, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking for.”, he chuckles and you listen as he sucks on what you assume is his fingers. “You may think we’re cocky but trust us we’ve earned the right to be.”

You suck in a breath as you twist your hips and feel two long thick fingers pushed into your ass as both men thrust their digits into you. 

“Oh…my…”

“Can a little girl like you handle your Daddy’s big cocks inside of you at the same time?”

Your hands cling to the man in front of you as you passionately kiss him, his tongue catching your moans as you tremble and trench his fingers as you cum. 

“Y-Yes, I can…I can handle it.”

They abruptly sit up and manhandle you around the bed, Mogul’s arms holding you tightly as he places himself on the edge of the mattress with his legs hanging off the side. Just as you had, his palm comes up to caress your face as his thumb traces your lips. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” You softly smile at the sincerity in his voice while he circles your arms around his neck. “Just hang on to Daddy, ok? We got you.”

His hair tickles your nose as he tilts his head and grips his cock between your bodies. 

“Shit, um, I almost forgot. Is it ok…I don’t think we have condoms.”

“It’s ok. I’m protected and I’m clean. You can cum inside me…if you want to…”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re going to kill us. Ok, go ahead and baby let me know when you’re ready for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

You feel his mushroom tip tease your entrance making you both moan. 

“Take your time, honey. I got you.”

As you slowly descend onto him, he sucks in a breath as your fingers thread through his hair. 

“So big. Fuck, Daddy.”

“How does she feel, man?”

“Mmpf, tight. That’s it. You’re almost there.”

When you’re fully seated on top of him, his forehead leans to rest on yours as his humid breath fans your face. The action causes you to clench around him and he grunts in pleasure.

“Hang on to me.”, he whispers as he tips back onto his hands tilting you with him. 

Rockstar spits in his palm behind you and you mewl as he rubs it between your cheeks.

“Are you ready, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.”

Holding your ass open, he gradually slides into you.

“Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting… goddamn baby girl.”

Ringed fingers take hold of your bicep as both men thrust into you at the same time hitting every spot inside of you that has you melting into them. 

“Oh my God. Yes!”

“Yeah, baby? Fuck, dude. I don’t know how—mmm—how long I’m gonna last. Her ass feels so good.” A hand slaps your behind making you moan as another strong palm grips the back of your thigh guiding your movements as you bounce back into theirs. 

Lips in front of you open mouth kiss your chest up to your neck as you push them closer to your skin. 

“Please. Fuck, Daddy! M’gonna cum.”

Slamming their hips up to meet yours, your body quivers as the coil snaps.

“Atta girl, honey! Making a mess all over our cocks and coming hard like that. So fucking sexy.”

Clinging to them tightly, you allowed them to use you to chase their highs. The man behind you warms your insides first, grunting as his rhythm falters. The man in front of you soon follows thrusting his spend deep inside of you.

“We’re going to pull out, sweetheart, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy.”

After carefully removing themselves, you feel yourself being lifted into the air and spun around before being placed on soft pillows. A wet rag cleans you and you pleasantly sigh as you curl under the covers that were placed over your body. 

“Are you both going to stay?”

Cool metal touches your skin as a hand pets your head. 

“Do you want us to?”

“I promise I won’t look.”

Warmth encases you as they lay on either side, murmuring praises as you steadily fall asleep. 

#################

When you woke up the next morning you were alone, finding a note on the nightstand that said they thought it best to leave before you woke up but that the room was yours for as long as you need and to message them when you made it home. 

You did what they requested but decided to utilize the rest of your Sunday for yourself thinking about everything that happened. You heard your phone pinging but you didn’t want to talk to anyone wishing you could call in that following Monday. Unfortunately, you made a promise to a friend, you couldn’t break. 

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your colleague asks as she lightly elbows your side. 

“I’m fine. Just an interesting weekend.”

“Alright, guys so this where all the important decisions are made.”, the building tour guide obnoxiously smiled as she guided the class around the office space. “Let’s see if the boss is available.”

“Well thank you for chaperoning with me. When Mrs. Ludwig cancelled I thought I would have to reschedule.”

“No problem. I know nothing about business and economics but…”, you giggle. 

“Holy shit!”

“Mark!”, your friend shouts. “Watch your mouth! Jesus!”

“Mrs. Raymond, it’s Eddie Munson. The guitarist from Corroded Coffin!”

Turning your head in that direction, you realize two men are staring your way, one of them indeed the famous rockstar. 

Rockstar…

Blinking you tilt your head as you notice the rings on his fingers.

That voice. I knew that voice.

“It’s not uncommon for us to see Mr. Munson around here. Him and Mr. Harrington have been friends for a long time. Right, sir?”, the tour guide asks.

“Steve Harrington? The business mogul?”

Mogul…

“See, Y/N. You know some things about the business world.”, your friend grins. 

As the world around you seems to slow down to a halt, you three continue to stare at each other as you figure out where to go from here.

[dixons-sunshine]

Heal | Daryl Dixon x Mutant!Fem!Reader

A/N: Requested by @tempobaekh. I hope you like it!

Your supernatural powers were no secret to the members in your group. Your ability to move things with your mind had not been something anyone in your group feared. In fact, when you had used it to save everyone back at the quarry, that knowledge made you more valuable to the group. You could help better protect everyone than essentially anybody else, and that had secured your place in the ragtag group of survivors.

However, there was one thing you had yet to tell everyone about; your ability to heal faster than anyone else, but that secret was about to be revealed.

“What the fuck?”

“I was hoping you would have an explanation for me, Rick.”

“I have no idea, Hershel. This is—I don’t know what this is.”

“Perhaps Daryl would know? The two of them appear to be rather close.”

“Yeah, they’re together. If there’s anyone that would know, it has to be him.”

With a groggy, exhausted groan, you lolled your head to the side. Slowly, you opened your eyes, and as your eyes adjusted, you saw the concerned yet bewildered faces of Rick Grimes and Hershel Greene. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, trying to push yourself up, but Hershel stopped you.

“Don’t,” he advised you with a stern gentleness. “Don’t move just yet.” When you complied with his request, he continued. “What do you remember, Y/N?”

It was as if his words were the key that was needed to open the metaphorical gate in your mind. In an instant, all the memories flooded into your mind, making realization dawn on you. The run. Getting shot by one of the Governer’s men. The bullet grazing your temple. And then nothing.

“Getting shot,” you replied, your voice hoarse from the lack of hydration. “And then nothing. I think I passed out.”

“You did,” Rick confirmed. He stepped forward and peered down at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. “We saw that bullet graze your head. We thought we had lost you.”

“I’m fine,” you reassured him. You pushed yourself up again, this time without protest from the doctor. “I’m fine, really. Fit as a fiddle.”

“That’s the thing, though,” Hershel chimed in. “You weren’t when you were brought in a few minutes ago. You were on the verge of death, but now there’s no wound in sight. If I hadn’t seen the blood pool from your head myself, I would have assumed the bullet hadn’t touched you at all.”

Oh. You forgot that you did not tell anyone—well, except for Daryl—about your regenerative ability. It was not that you did not want anyone to know, it was just that it had slipped your mind. You had been lucky enough over the past year to not have sustained an injury big enough to be a cause for concern, so there had been no reason to alert anyone to that. The only reason Daryl even knew in the first place was because he had witnessed a scrape heal within minutes up close and personal a few months prior, and you had explained to him why.

Well, you thought to yourself, guess the cat’s out of the bag now.

“I heal super fast. It’s part of my powers.” That was the most basic explanation you could come up with. If you had to explain it to them on a scientific level, in the way the people who experimented on you explained it to you, you all would be there for days.

“How? How’s that even possible?” Rick inquired, his brows furrowed together.

“I don’t know. It just is.”

“Alright, m’pretty sure y’all have a lot’a questions, but save ‘em for later, yeah? Healin’ abilities or not, s’still the safest bet to let her rest for now. Right, Doc?”

Involuntarily, you found yourself smiling at the sound of Daryl’s voice. The archer’s ocean-coloured eyes locked with your eyes, and he sent you a small, lopsided smile in return. He knew how overwhelmed you could get when talking about your powers and how you got them, acutely aware of the fact that it was a time in your life you were not particularly fond of, so he knew it was better if you had the time to gather your thoughts and prepare yourself before you got bombarded with questions.

“He’s right,” Hershel agreed. He placed a gentle hand on Rick’s shoulder, urging him back, before shifting his attention back to you. “Get some rest, Y/N. That’s about the only thing I’m certain you need.”

“Thanks, Hershel,” you replied. You watched as Rick and Hershel pushed past Daryl, who had been leaning against the doorframe of your cell. When you were certain the two of you were alone, you spoke up again. “Thank you.”

Daryl nodded, before pushing himself away from the door. He walked over to you and sat on the chair next to your bed, and leaned forward to take your hand in his, a rare show of affection for the archer. He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your knuckles.

“M’real glad yer alright, Sweetheart,” he murmured. “If it weren’t for yer weird as shit healin’ thing, ya could’a died. Hell, if that asshole had better aim, he could’a shot ya clean in the brain. Pretty sure ya can’t heal from that.”

“No, I can’t,” you confirmed with a sad smile. “But I’m fine, Dar. I promise.” When Daryl simply sighed and ducked his gaze to the floor, you took it upon yourself to lighten the mood a bit. Using your telekinesis, you brought his chair closer to the bed, laughing lightly when he flailed to grip the chair to stop from falling. “Sorry. I should have warned you I was gonna do that.”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, s’fine. M’guessin’ that’s somethin’ m’gon’ have to get used to.”

“Yeah,” you giggled. You shared a smile with Daryl, and the look he sent you had you all warm on the inside. “What?” you questioned, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze.

“Nothin’.”

“Just admiring the view?”

“Yeah,” Daryl said, smiling softly, before sighing. “M’glad yer okay. Ya really have no idea.”

“Me too. I’m glad, too.”

[nadvs]

push and pull (part two) (end)

pairing twin!rafe x female reader x twin!zach

summary life felt complicated enough when you started falling for zach. then you meet rafe. he’s the complete opposite of his twin brother, but he captures your attention just the same.

content warnings alcohol use, mental illness, mentions of parental abandonment

» intro post | part one

» masterlist

When Zach wakes up the next morning, he fully understands the term hangxiety.

His temples pound as he stares at his ceiling. At some point last night, he slipped from tipsy into drunk.

Thankfully, he didn’t get so wasted that he’s forgetting anything. But then again, that means every time he made an ass of himself is a memory etched into his brain.

He remembers welcoming his date. Having a decent time with her. Walking her downstairs. Her lips on his cheek when she kissed him goodbye. Feeling like something was missing, and then, that something wasn’t missing anymore when you came downstairs to let him in.

And he remembers looking over at you across the party. Wishing he was next to you. Feeling crappy for thinking about you while he was with another girl. Knowing he was idiot for thinking he could ignore his feelings for you and date someone else.

Talking to you in the elevator. Crap.

He buries his head into his pillow. Why did he blabber to you like that? His brother would kill him if he knew what he said. He probably already wants to kill him for loudly proclaiming how much he loves him in the hallway. Rafe’s not one for any sort of PDA.

Zach picks up his phone to text you: Trauma dumping to you was just a dream I had, right? Please tell me it didn’t actually happen.

You reply minutes later: you mean in the elevator? definitely a dream.

Despite his embarrassment, he smiles at his screen.

He replies: Sorry about that.

You send another text: it’s no problem. i’m guessing you have a pretty bad hangover.

He replies: Everything hurts.

You text back: make sure to hydrate and rest ok?

Zach smiles again. He can’t help but daydream about you coming over, taking care of him, cuddling him.

He’s worried about the consequences of things going wrong if he got into a relationship with you. But God, does he want you.

He replies: Ok :)

When he eventually leaves his bedroom, he sees Rafe lounging on the couch, still in his pajamas. Surprisingly, his brother actually tidied up.

It gives him hope that Rafe really is trying to improve himself. He’s had his fair share of meltdowns and Zach’s had a front row seat to all of them, watching his brother break down into tears, spiralling into his toxic, self-hating thoughts.

Once he calms down, every time, Rafe talks about how he knows he’s not a good person, that he wants to be better. But then, he sticks to his bad habits. He never gets the help he needs, even though Zach encourages him to.

Nonetheless, Zach never saw the bad in Rafe that he’s so adamant is there. At his worst, he can be violent, drunkenly throwing punches at parties, but Zach knows it’s a result of his emotional scars.

“Shit,” Rafe chuckles when he sees Zach. “You’re alive.”

“Barely.” Zach sinks onto the other side of the couch, closing his eyes as he tilts his head back. “You cleaned up for once.”

“Did you just say for once? I’m always cleaning up, asshole,” he mutters, making Zach laugh.

“I hope the neighbors don’t hate us,” Zach says. “The party got kinda loud last night.”

“This guy’s thinking about the neighbors,” Rafe says with a scoff. “The girl you were with looked like she was into you. Bet she would’ve stayed the night.”

“Maybe,” Zach says with a shrug, thinking back to his date.

Then, Rafe says he thinks you might be into him, too, considering he caught you staring. And Zach’s pulse picks up.

He loves and hates hearing that. Because if you really do like him back, it’s exciting, but that makes it even more crushing that he can’t pursue anything.

“Maybe,” Zach echoes.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Rafe laughs, thinking about how good you looked last night. “I’d jump on that if I had the chance.”

“But you don’t have the chance,” Zach murmurs. “If you love me, you won’t jump on any of my friends.”

Zach sits up and looks at his brother.

“By the way, you never said you love me back last night. I’m still waiting.”

“Yeah,” Rafe snorts. “You can keep waiting.”

────୨ৎ────

On Monday morning, you finally get a response from a student you found online who’s selling a used textbook you need.

You’d rather not go by yourself, so you text the group chat: i need to go to a stranger’s house to buy a textbook tonight. is anyone down to tag along so i’m not alone?

To your relief, Zach texts the group a minute later: I got you :)

That evening, you’re knocking on his front door. Instead of Zach, though, Rafe answers.

“Hi,” you say. “Is Zach around? He’s supposed to come with me to pick a textbook up.”

“Haven’t heard him since he got home,” he says, turning to look up the stairs. “I’ll get him.”

A minute later, Rafe comes down, keys jingling in his hand.

“He’s sleeping,” he says. “I can take you. I was about to go for a drive anyway.”

“Cool,” you say. “Thanks.”

You watch him lean over to slip on his sneakers, his frame broad and tall. It’s surprising that Zach, who’s usually reliable, forgot about your plans. And that Rafe, who you’ve come to known as hot and cold, is willing to help you.

He locks the door behind him before you make your way down the hallway together.

“He must be tired after practice,” you say, well aware of the team’s training schedule.

“Yeah, when he’s asleep, he’s out.”

You smirk to yourself, imagining Zach adorably bundled up in his bed. You already know he’s going to apologize profusely once he realizes he accidentally bailed on you.

“It’s only ten minutes away,” you tell Rafe. “I just wanted someone with me since it’s some random guy I don’t know selling it.”

“Zach didn’t offer to just buy a new one for you?” he asks.

“No,” you laugh, entering the elevator. “Why would he?”

Rafe doesn’t get Zach sometimes. It’s insane that he’s not into you, that he sleeps through plans with you, that he doesn’t offer to buy you something that probably only costs a few hundred dollars.

“Want me to?” Rafe asks. You have to laugh.

“It’s okay,” you say. “I already set all this up. Do you always offer to buy girls school supplies?”

He bites his tongue. If Zach wasn’t so adamant about m not being allowed to try to hook up with you, he’d flirt and say yes, he buys all kinds of things for beautiful girls.

“Not always,” he settles for.

The elevator doors open. You enter the parking garage and follow Rafe to his car, settling into the cushioned passenger seat. He starts the engine, then offers the cable hooked up his radio to you.

“Already know you have good taste,” Rafe says. You smile, plugging your phone in.

You’re Zach’s friend, but he figures you can be his friend, too. Because he wants to get to know what he can about you, to flatter you and joke with you and talk to you, even though the night won’t be ending with you in his bed. He has fun with you. He’ll take what he can get.

He backs out of his parking spot, putting his hand against the back of your headrest as he looks through the rear window. You gaze up at his profile, taking in just how handsome he is, how nice his cologne smells.

Rafe doesn’t know the song you put on, but he likes it. He turns forward in his seat, driving out of the garage.

You chat about your days and even though it’s small-talk, it doesn’t feel like it. There’s an ease with Rafe that you can’t really compare to with anyone else.

Still, he’s kind of intimidating, but you naturally want to keep challenging this way he makes you feel, cracking the wall he has up.

When you reach the house at the end of a dark street, Rafe parks in the driveway, turns his key and takes it out of ignition.

“You can wait here,” you offer.

“Nah,” he mumbles. He unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

With Rafe standing behind you as you knock on the front door, the feeling of him protecting you is intoxicating, making your heart pound harder.

The door swings open and you greet the man you’ve been messaging. He’s holding the textbook you need and when you offer him four twenties, he looks through the bills and shakes his head.

“We said $100,” he says.

“No,” you reply. “$80. You said $80 was good.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I have the texts to prove it,” you laugh in disbelief.

“Really, man?” Rafe mutters. “Just give her the book.”

“$100,” he repeats.

“Forget it,” Rafe says. He steps forward, roughly taking your money out of his hand and pulling you by the waist. “I’ll just get you a new one.”

“No, wait,” the guy calls. “$80’s fine.”

“Get fucked,” Rafe mutters. You follow him to the car, still mentally catching up to what just happened. “Trying to scam you over twenty dollars. What a joke.”

You settle in the car, feeling Rafe’s warm, big hand curl your fingers open so he can give you your money back.

He’s fuming, beyond pissed off that someone would try to trick you like that. He’s glad you didn’t come by yourself to have to deal with this idiot alone. And he’s not sure how Zach would’ve handled it.

“How much is a new book?” he asks.

“Like, $250,” you tell him.

“I got it covered, alright?” he says. “Give me your phone.”

You comply, still a little jarred but appreciating how quickly he swept in to help you. You watch him enter digits, call himself to get your number, then hang up.

He returns your phone and takes his out, taps on your number, and quickly opens up a bank app.

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

“It’s fine.”

Within a minute, he sends you $250. It’s bizarre how he’s acting like that much money is nothing. Like he’s giving you change he owes you.

Rafe exhales slowly, starting his car again, coming down from the daze. This happens a lot. It’s like he blacks out when he gives in to his impulses.

But what can he do? He has a weak spot for you and he hates the idea of someone doing you wrong, of him not helping you when he’s totally capable of it.

He scratches his forehead. Zach’s words resonate in his head, telling him he needs to cool down and think before he does things. Sometimes his temper flares with no warning.

He’s sure he came off way too intense. He doesn’t know how to apologize for it. Before he can speak, you do.

“Can you come with me every time I have to buy something?” you say lightheartedly. It eases some of the tension in his chest.

“Was that too much?” he says, tone low.

You smile to yourself. You wouldn’t call it too much. He seems like he’s an intense, passionate person. Beneath the surface, Rafe feels more than he lets on.

“You didn’t let a guy con me, then you bought me a $250 book,” you reply with a laugh. “Trust me, you’re good. Thank you.”

Your phone buzzes with a text from Zach as you back out of the driveway. Crap I’m so sorry. I don’t even remember falling asleep. Did you come over?

You reply: all good! i figured you were exhausted. rafe went with me.

“Guess who’s awake,” you say, the smile apparent in your tone. Rafe glances over at your profile as you text back.

He hates this about himself, the envy that pushes him to be sure that Zach is so much better than him. That every girl, if given the chance, would pick his brother over him.

“So, you were going to go for a drive?” you say, tucking your phone away. Because of his kind gestures tonight, you’re pretty sure that he likes hanging out with you. “Want company?”

Rafe taps his hand against the steering wheel. Even if this is just platonic, he doesn’t want you to leave his car.

“If I can pick the music,” he says.

“You said I had good taste.”

“Mine’s better.”

You laugh, and because he held your waist just a few minutes ago, you don’t feel apprehensive to touch him. You nudge his shoulder. He smirks.

An hour goes by like a minute. When Rafe and you part, your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing with him.

You talked together nonstop, touching on the most random subjects, finding similarities and differences. You have a deep crush on him. There’s no denying it.

When Rafe watches you step out of his car, he realizes that this isn’t just attraction like he’s used to. He feels like he knows you. And he likes you. It’s exciting and scary.

When Rafe makes it home, Zach is in the kitchen, the whole loft smelling like delicious food.

“You actually remembered how to get home?” Zach teases over the sound of ingredients sizzling in a pan.

“Lost track of time,” Rafe says. He settles on a barstool as Zach stands at the range, trying not to burn dinner.

Zach is glad his back is to his brother, because when Rafe tells him that he was with you that entire time, driving around and talking, his eyebrows furrow in anger and jealousy before he can subdue it.

“But before you lose your shit,” Rafe adds, “it was all friendly, okay?”

“Right,” Zach mumbles. He stares down at the pan, trying to breathe through his prickly frustration. He’s unbelievably mad at himself for falling asleep after practice.

You can do whatever you want, he knows that, but he feels that even though it’s just as a friend, you’re his, not Rafe’s. And his brother getting to spend time with you feels painfully unfair.

────୨ৎ────

The bright stadium lights pool over the deep green soccer field. It’s a cool evening, perfect for a match.

Cold seeps in through your jeans as you sit on the metal bench on the sideline. You have your phone at the ready to film the team as they rush the field for a home game.

You’ve grown to love your job. You found great friends, the TikTok account is earning more traction, and you’ve started to genuinely enjoy coming out to games and cheering on your school’s team.

It’s been almost a week since your night with Rafe. You haven’t seen him or Zach since. You welcome the distance. Liking them both is ridiculously confusing.

Minutes pass. The crowd is getting louder. The team still isn’t out on the field. Your dad runs a tight ship, so it’s weird that they’re late.

You head into the stadium tunnel towards the locker room, curiosity nagging you. A group of players are standing outside the door and you approach Chance.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“Something’s up with Zach,” Chance tells you. Alarm rushes through you and you step into the locker room without a second thought.

Zach’s sitting on the bench by his locker, hunched over, surrounded by your dad, the team’s medic, and a few other players.

“Is everything okay?” you ask.

Zach looks up at you. His eyes are sunken, his lips parted. And then, he loses consciousness.

When his eyelids flutter open, the brightness of the room is so painful that he has to squint.

“He’s up,” he hears. It’s you. He hasn’t heard your voice in a while. He misses it.

He slowly comes to, realizing he’s in a hospital bed. You’re sitting to his left. The team medic is standing at the end of the bed with a doctor. He’s hooked up to an IV.

“What happened?” he rasps.

“You’re dehydrated,” the medic explains, leaning over to hand a plastic cup of water to Zach. “You’re at Trinity Hospital. You’re okay. Drink.”

Zach weakly picks it up, downing the cool water, his throat feeling raw. He rolls his head to look at you again. He knows it’s wrong, but he’s relieved that you look so concerned for him. That you’re here.

The doctor introduces herself, then explains that Zach was unconscious for so long that she’d prefer to keep him overnight to monitor him.

The news makes everything in him twist with worry and frustration. He just wants to go home. He doesn’t want Rafe to spiral.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m alright, though?”

“I’m not worried,” the doctor replies. “I just want to be sure you’re in good shape before I send you home.”

Within a few minutes, the doctor leaves the room. Then, the medic encourages Zach to drink more fluids, calls the coach to update him, and asks if you want to head back together now that you’re sure Zach’s okay.

You politely decline. You’re too worried to leave him alone so fast. And shortly after, it’s just you two in the room, listening to the beeps of Zach’s pulse.

“Dehydrated?” you say playfully, but still worried. “What the hell, Cameron?”

“I know,” he says with a smile. He regrets going hard at the gym today. He’s sure that’s what did it. “Rookie move.”

“I specifically told you to hydrate like, two days ago.”

Zach’s laugh is boyish. He reaches for your hand and squeezes. You remind yourself it’s likely nothing more than a friendly gesture.

“That was hangover advice,” he says. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand.

“It was life advice, actually.” You inhale slowly. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He lets go of your hand, remembering you can hear his pulse right now and not wanting to risk you witnessing it beat faster.

“It was way more than two days ago, by the way,” he says. He threads his fingers through his hair, suddenly self-conscious of how bad he must look right now. “Where’ve you been?”

You look down at your lap. You’ve been declining all the invitations to hang out in the group chat because the past few days have been so confusing.

Seeing Zach with another girl was painful, and then, you realized just how unimportant you felt to him when he slept through your plans, even though it was by mistake. You need time and space to stop liking him before you can hang out again.

“School’s been kicking my ass,” you lie.

“Do you need help?” he asks. He’d do anything to have you around again.

“Leave it to you to be in a hospital bed asking if you can help,” you mumble. Zach laughs. You try and fail not to fawn over his perfect smile.

“Did I faint in front of everybody?” he says, fixing his hair again.

“Not everybody,” you half-laugh. “But, seriously, everyone was really worried. We all care about you a lot.”

His heart warms. He may be in the hospital, but right now, he’s grateful for having people who care about him. It’s all he ever wanted.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Zach says softly. “And for staying.”

You nod. You were so worried that you told your dad you were going with the paramedics when they arrived, not even considering that you had work to do, that Zach was already taken care of.

“Of course,” you reply. “You said you don’t like being alone, remember? In that dream you had?”

Zach huffs a laugh and looks away, embarrassed as he thinks about that night in the elevator, but still appreciative.

“Did anyone call my brother?” he asks.

“I texted him that I’m with you at the hospital. He hasn’t replied yet.”

Zach nods and thanks you. He tries not to fixate on the fact that you have Rafe’s number. He looks at the clock hanging on the wall to see it’s late in the evening. He figures Rafe’s out with friends or with a girl, not paying attention to his phone.

He wishes he could just talk to him. With every second that passes, he worries more and more about Rafe’s reaction to him being here.

“I should’ve grabbed your phone from the locker room so you could talk to him directly,” you say regretfully. “But I told Chance to get your things for you after the game. Is there anyone else I should contact?”

Admittedly, you’re bracing yourself for him to mention the girl from the other night. Or any girl, really. But he only shakes his head no.

A nurse comes in to remind you that visiting hours are up soon. Zach sits up, visibly on edge, asking her when he can have visitors tomorrow. She tells him 9 a.m.

Knowing he won’t be able to see his brother in person tonight makes him anxious.

After the nurse leaves, Zach frantically asks if he can send a voice-note to Rafe on your phone. You open the conversation and hand your phone to Zach, noticing the nervous way he’s chewing on his lip.

“Hey,” he says into the speaker. “It’s nothing. I passed out from dehydration and I’m at Trinity and they’re keeping me overnight just to be sure I’m good, but the doctor’s not worried.”

His eyes flit to you and he swallows hard.

“This is nothing like the last time, okay? I know your mind’s gonna go there and this is not even close,” he continues. “You can come see me at nine tomorrow. And you better bring me food.”

Zach ends the recording, sends it, and gives you back your phone.

“Thanks,” he breathes. You nod, your eyebrows knitting in confusion and worry.

“Sure,” you say. “Is there anything I can do?”

Zach scratches the back of his neck.

“When he answers, please tell him that you saw for yourself that I’m okay,” he says. “He might be a little freaked out.”

You agree, not wanting to pry, and start to collect your things. There’s no television in the room and you feel bad that Zach’ll be left alone with nothing to entertain him. You want to help.

You tell him you’ll be right back, then rush downstairs at a vending machine you saw when you came in. After, you drop by the gift shop. It’s closed, the flowers and balloons locked up, but you’re still able to pick up a book sitting on a rack.

You leave behind more than enough cash for the book on the counter and go back to Zach’s room.

“Snacks,” you say breathlessly when you enter, dropping the bags of chips and candy and the paperback on the bed, “and a book. Hopefully, this’ll keep you entertained. And don’t tell my dad about the junk food. You know how he is about an athlete’s diet.”

Zach smiles at you, his eyes soft. With everything you’ve done tonight, you could simply be showing what a good friend you are, but what if you feel something for him, too?

The mention of his coach is reminder enough of why he doesn’t pursue this. It could get messy. But maybe he should be more like his brother. Taking risks. Allowing himself to do what he wants to do.

“I should go,” you sigh, looking at the clock. “Feel better, okay? We don’t stand a chance of winning without you.”

He laughs, his eyes lingering on you.

“Thanks,” Zach says. You turn to leave. He stops you with a gentle, “Hey.”

You stop, turning back to look at him. Zach takes you in, how good he feels when you’re around, how there’s still a little bit of worry written into your cute features.

He won’t tell you that he wants to you to be his girlfriend. Not like this, when he’s hooked up to monitors, stuck in a bed. He’ll do it when he’s out of here. He’ll do it when he can hold your face in his hands and tell you how much you mean to him.

“Seriously, thank you,” he tells you. “You’re amazing.” You smile at him again. If only he knew how much his words mean to you.

“You’re welcome,” you say.

You’re pacing through the parking lot when your phone buzzes. It’s Rafe calling you. You answer quickly. He says your name, his voice strained.

“I’m here. Is it too late to see him?”

“Yeah, visiting hours are over. I’m just leaving now,” you say, looking around the dark lot in case you can spot him. “But, honestly, he’s okay.”

“Does he…” Rafe pauses. “I think I see you.”

You approach each other under the starry sky, meeting by a line of parked cars.

His eyes are glossy. He’s been crying. No wonder Zach was so worried. He must have known the effect this would have on his brother. There’s more to this than you realize.

“Hi,” you say softly, ending the call. “It’s okay. He’s acting totally like himself.”

“He doesn’t have his phone?”

“No,” you say. “But I made sure someone’ll pick his stuff up for him.”

“What happened?”

“Before the game tonight, he was in the locker room and he looked really tired,” you explain. “He passed out, but he was already sitting and someone caught him, so he didn’t hit his head or anything. They have him on an IV and drinking lots of fluids.”

“Okay,” he mutters. “Fuck. I was at a bar and I wasn’t checking my phone… I got into a cab as fast as I could.”

“It’s okay,” you console him. “He’s good. He was more worried about you than himself.”

Rafe sighs, hands on his hips as he looks down and paces back and forth, hair hanging over his head. You can hear him panting.

“He was worried about me?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d he say?” Rafe asks the question the same tense way he did the night of the party. He’s so closed off, clearly upset at the thought of you knowing anything he doesn’t want you to know.

“I heard the voice-note he sent you,” you admit, “and he said you might be freaked out, but he didn’t tell me anything else. I didn’t ask. It’s not my business.”

Rafe chews on his lip the same nervous way Zach does. For once, you see a similarity between them.

His breathing gets even shallower. He rests his hands on the rear window of the van parked next to him. His body curls forward. His skin is flushed.

You step a little closer, searching his face in the light of the lamps lining the parking lot. He’s distraught.

“Rafe,” you say quietly.

His stare is on the ground, his chest heaving now. Something bad has been triggered in him.

“Hey,” you say.

“You can go home now,” he mutters breathlessly.

“I’m not leaving you like this,” you say. You take a risk, placing a hand on his back, feeling it rise and fall quickly.

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” you say evenly. “I get that this is scary, but I promise you, everything’s okay. Zach is okay.”

Rafe’s chest is tight. His veins are made of ice. He feels like punching something. He hates this familiar loss of control, this shock of the world crumbling around him with no warning.

Yet while he thought that he’d hate someone touching him like this, that he’d hate being so vulnerable, he actually feels a little better.

You continue to rub his back, sweetly and tenderly. The touches he shares with girls are never like this. They’re always superficial, fuelled by lust. But this feels like real, sincere care.

“You took a cab here?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he rasps.

“Did you talk to the driver?”

“What?”

“Did you?” you say. “What kind of car was it?”

It’s all in an effort to distract him, and while Rafe stammers his way through his answers about the driver and the car and the bar he was at, you notice his breathing start to even out.

Minutes later, his heart isn’t racing as fast. His chest isn’t as tight. He can think clearer.

He’s embarrassed, but relieved you were here to talk him down before he ran into the hospital and demanded to see his brother. He now realizes how bad that could’ve gone.

“I don’t…” he stammers. He doesn’t know how to say that this doesn’t happen all that often, that this is a piece of him he typically buries deep from everyone.

“What?”

“You probably think I’m crazy.” Saying the word out loud hurts more than he expected. It’s what he’s felt all his life, that something isn’t wired right in his brain.

“No. I get it,” you say. You shake your head. “I mean, I don’t know what happened, but… I’m guessing he was in the hospital for something before, right?”

Rafe meets your eyes, straightening.

“I get why you’re freaked out,” you say. “I would be, too. Memories can mess with us.”

The way you just calmed him down, the sympathy in your tone, the alcohol swimming in his system are what push him to actually be honest with someone for once in a long time.

“We almost lost him,” he admits. “A long time ago.”

Your face falls in sorrow, eyes searching his face. He looks down at the ground, too uncomfortable to meet your gaze again.

“I almost lost him,” Rafe mumbles, his voice thin. Because, really, he knows he would’ve felt the loss the hardest. His brother is the most important person in his life. Always has been.

And to lose him, someone so irreplaceable, someone he was with from the moment he was a living thing, would kill him. Zach’s right, even though he’s joking, that Rafe doesn’t tell him he loves him enough.

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “How old were you?”

“Fourteen,” Rafe says.

It was mere months after their mother abandoned them, saying she couldn’t stay with their father anymore, that she did everything she could do as a mom, that she was done.

It left a hole in Rafe that he feels every day. If Zach feels it, he does an incredible job hiding it.

He still doesn’t know what the final straw was. Why fourteen years of her sons’ lives was enough for her. How could a parent decide that they had enough of their kids forever?

She wasn’t the best mom, unpredictable and erratic, but he loved her. There had to be something wrong with her mind for her to act like that. To leave. Something that Rafe is sure skipped Zach and was passed on to him.

“That’s so young,” you say sadly.

“He was really sick for a while.” Rafe’s heart twists thinking about it.

How a freak case of pneumonia had Zach bedridden, his lungs fighting to keep breathing. How mad Rafe was at his brother, as if he did it on purpose. How sure he was that in some twisted way, his mother’s sudden abandonment triggered it.

He still regrets how he acted when Zach was discharged. He couldn’t talk to him for days. He was too angry for scaring him into thinking he was going to lose his best friend, his anchor.

“How long?” you ask.

“Weeks,” Rafe tells you. “And you know Zach. He kept telling everyone he was fine. Even as a kid, he didn’t want people to worry about him.”

“He is like that, isn’t he?” you say with a soft chuckle. Since you met Zach, you quickly learned he dismisses any notion of needing any sort of help. “But I promise, this isn’t one of those cases. I saw for myself. He’s good. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Rafe nods quickly, finally looking at you.

“You’ll see him tomorrow,” you say with a small smile, sad but touched that he opened up to you like this. “Until then, just try to relax.”

Rafe loves the feeling of your hand on him. He can’t remember the last time he loved someone’s touch. If he ever even did.

He’s keeping his promise to Zach. He won’t hook up with you. Because he wants more than that. He wants to know you and for you to know him. He wants you to stay the night, every night. He wants you to be his.

And he needs to be sure you don’t feel anything for his brother.

“Are you and him…” He swallows hard. “Is there anything there?”

Your forehead crinkles in confusion. Zach had told you that his brother was his best friend. You’re sure he would’ve told him if he felt something for you.

If he has to ask, Zach must not talk about you much at all. You’re nothing but a friend to him. Although you do have feelings for him, you were right to be apprehensive from the start. He doesn’t like you like that.

“No,” you finally say.

Rafe nods. At least there’s no unrequited feelings on either side. He must have been reading into things, imagining you looking at his brother a certain way.

“You wanna grab some food?” Rafe asks impulsively.

You agree. Right now, there’s nothing else you’d rather do.

Rafe’s been on a handful of dates before, but sitting across from you at a quiet late-night diner, sobering up, getting to know you more and more makes him feel like he’s living in a dream.

He’s never felt this way about a girl before. Scared in a good way. Slowly, he opens up little by little, peeling back layers of the wall he’s been hiding behind for years.

He shares what happened with his mom. How Zach was the strong one, while Rafe acted out and made his life hell. You take in every word, seeing just how much guilt and shame and pain he carries around.

You open up, too, sharing things you don’t tell many people. He’s a good listener, and the eyes you thought didn’t have much hope behind them at first aren’t cold at all by the end of the night.

It’s one in the morning when you part ways. Rafe shares a cab with you, making sure you get dropped off first, watching you step through the front door.

Everything in him wants to invite you to his place, but things are going to be different with you. He won’t rush into numbing himself with sex like he always does, because he refuses to be numb or absent or checked out with you in any way.

────୨ৎ────

“What kind of grown man forgets to drink water?”

Zach looks up from his orange juice to see Rafe walking into his hospital room.

He chuckles, asking Rafe not to give him shit for this because you already did. The mention of your name makes Rafe’s heart feel lighter in this tense moment.

Because of how good it felt to be so open with you last night, expressing just how important Zach is to him, remembering everything they’d gone through together, Rafe doesn’t shy away from leaning over to hug his brother, who stiffens in his bed.

“Uh, good morning to you, too?” Zach laughs. “Is this a hug? What the hell? Who are you?”

“I love you, too,” Rafe mumbles, pulling back and holding up a paper bag of breakfast for him. “And I got you your food, princess.”

“You try eating hospital food,” Zach replies, taking the bag, feeling ravenous.

Rafe settles on the chair, remembering his brother at fourteen, picking apart at the food they served him with a look of disgust, yet telling the nurses ‘it’s good, thank you’ when they asked if he was enjoying his meal.

Rafe urged his dad to bring his brother home-cooked food almost every day of his hospital stay. It was one of the little ways he showed up for Zach, taking care of him instead of the other way around for once.

“What’d the doctor say?” Rafe asks. “Do you feel better?”

“She hasn’t come to see me yet, but I feel totally fine.” Zach digs into his breakfast. “How are you?”

Rafe looks down at his lap, sighing before he speaks.

“I freaked out,” Rafe admits. Zach stills. “She told me you said I would and you were right. But, man… she knew exactly what to do.”

“It happened when you were with her?” Zach knows what Rafe’s breakdowns look like. He has full-blown panic attacks. He’s nearly inconsolable. He wonders how jarring that must have been for you.

“Out in the parking lot,” he says. “It was just too much. All that shit came rushing back.”

Rafe shrugs, defeated. Sometimes, he’s able to give into the fact that he can do nothing but surrender to the chaos in his mind. He felt safe doing it in front of you last night. He felt safe every second he was with you.

“Are you okay now?” Zach asks. He notices the hint of a smile in Rafe’s face. A brightness he hasn’t seen in him in a long time.

“Yeah,” Rafe says. “I gotta ask you something, though.”

“What?”

“Does ‘off limits’ mean I can’t date her?”

“Date her?” Zach repeats, in disbelief. “You want to date her? Like, commit to her? You don’t commit to anyone.”

Rafe breathes a chuckle, pursing his lips.

“Well, now, I want to.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

Rafe looks like he got rid of a ten-ton weight that was sitting on his shoulders. He’s relaxed. He’s content. Zach can’t remember the last time he saw him like this.

Zach became hyperaware of other people’s emotions at a young age. When their parents would argue, he saw what it did to Rafe, who would shut down and lash out. Zach would distract his brother in every way he could.

Then their mom left and it became ten times harder to keep Rafe steady. But Zach did it and he never stopped trying. Because helping others, putting their feelings first, really does make Zach happy.

But right now, he feels really far from happy.

He looks down at his food. He had it all planned out. He’d get in his best clothes, find a nice place to take you, give you a whole speech about how he hasn’t stopped thinking about you for days and how happy you make him and how happy he could make you.

“She feels the same way? Did something happen between you?” Zach asks. His chest is a hole. A pit.

“Nothing happened,” Rafe says, scratching the back of his neck.

It was nearly impossible for Rafe not to give into the impulse to hold your hand in the booth you sat at together last night and tell you how pretty you are and how much fun he has with you.

But he really does want to be a better person. He wants to think before he acts. And that means checking in with Zach that he’s okay with this, considering how tense he is about Rafe getting involved with his friends.

“But I think she might like me, too,” Rafe says. “And I made sure she’s not into you. I guess I was just reading into stuff before.”

That’s the moment Zach’s heart breaks. He licks his lips, his stare low. So, you would’ve just rejected him.

“You really like her?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah,” Rafe says.

“Why?”

“Don’t make me be corny,” he groans.

Zach’s head is pounding. He wants to be mad at Rafe. But he had so many opportunities to tell him that he likes you, and he was too chicken to admit it. And now, his brother is falling for you. And he looks so happy doing it.

“You’re gonna have to be corny,” Zach says. “I need to be sure you’re not just messing around.”

Rafe sighs. It’s always Zach doing this, gushing over a girl, freaking out over if she hasn’t texted him back, getting all nervous before a date. Rafe used to tease him about it. He gets it now, though.

“You suck,” Rafe scoffs, tensing up. It’s hard for him to talk like this, but he forces the words out. “I don’t know. I like who I am when I’m around her. And it’s… when she’s in the room, everything’s better, you know?”

“Yeah,” Zach says. He knows. He feels the exact same way.

“Is that corny enough for you?” Rafe says with a scoff. “Are you cool with this or no?”

Zach chews his food slowly only to buy time before he has to speak again. He’s trying to act unbothered and it’s working, considering how in the clouds Rafe seems.

He has no idea that Zach is falling for you. Because he’s too busy doing it, too.

He meets his brother’s eyes. He takes a deep breath. And, because Rafe’s happiness has always been more important to him than his own, he gives him his blessing.

“Go for it,” Zach says. “And don’t hurt her.”

He’s never felt so bitter. He hates that he hopes you’ll have a change of heart. He hates that he feels like he’d treat you better. He hates all of this. But he stays silent.

────୨ৎ────

You’re having a late breakfast when Zach replies to your text asking to keep you updated.

Doctor cleared me. I’m home and I got my stuff from Chance. Thanks for everything.

His message is cold compared to how he usually texts. But maybe he’s just tired from the hospital stay.

You gaze out your window, thinking about everything that happened last night. Rafe isn’t as different from Zach as you first thought. Behind his hard exterior, he’s sensitive and gentle and so badly wants to be loved.

He confessed to feeling like something was missing in him since he can remember. The look in his eyes when you told him that to you, he seems perfectly whole, is one you won’t forget.

Being with him for hours was a wonderful haze. You didn’t want to part. He made you feel heard. It’s a joy that you’ve been lacking for a long time.

Minutes later, Rafe texts you asking if he can take you out to dinner tonight. You smile at your screen. You love how you don’t have to wonder about if he wants you.

The restaurant he drives you to is lavish and elegant. Rafe is unbelievably handsome across the table over the candlelight, his dark button-up making his eyes look all the more blue. Your stomach is full of butterflies, yet a sense of calm fills you when you’re with him.

You pick up where you left off, conversation flowing without any effort. He looks at you like you put the stars in the sky. You’re sure you look at him the same way.

When Rafe pulls the car up to your place, in an effort to keep you from leaving right away, he presses his palm against the back of your hand.

“Did you have a good time?” he asks, tone low, adorably nervous.

“Of course. Did you?”

Rafe chuckles at the question. Good doesn’t begin to cover it.

“You’re…” he begins.

“I’m what?” you laugh.

He squeezes your hand gently, turning it so he can lace his fingers with yours. The contact is warm, his ring hard but smooth against your skin. Your heart pounds in your ears as he stares at you.

“Beautiful,” he says. “In every way.”

His tone is sincere and firm. He says it like it’s a fact.

“And I want to keep doing this,” he says. “Seeing you. If you want to keep seeing me, too.”

“I do,” you say. When he leans forward, his kiss is soft but hungry, making your mind spin.

Zach fakes a headache when Rafe gets home. All he needs to hear is that the date went well. He doesn’t want the details.

────୨ৎ────

You’re wrapped in Rafe’s arms, your back flush against his chest, as music and chatter float through the air around you.

You’re settled on his couch, talking with your friends as the party rages. Rafe’s still getting used to what it means to be a boyfriend, tense and quiet around your friends, but he’d get used to anything if it meant making you happy.

You’ve only been dating a few weeks, but he’s sure if this isn’t love, he’s damn close to it. Aside from his brother, you’re his best friend.

You smile when you feel Rafe’s lips press against the side of your neck. He’s ridiculously affectionate, touching you whenever he can, spoiling you, whispering sweet things to you all the time. He’s completely unguarded.

Zach’s in the kitchen, as far away from you as he physically can be. After the hospital, he hasn’t been himself at all. You can tell he’s trying to be, though, forcing smiles around you.

It makes no sense. He called you amazing that night. But, then, he pulled away. It’s like he’s mad at you for dating his brother, but he refuses to admit it.

You’ve asked him multiple times if things are good between you. He reassured you over and over that they are.

Maybe someone else would believe him, but after you pined for him for so long, you can read when he’s trying to hide that he’s upset. At parties, at casual get-togethers, even at work when you’re making content for the team, he’s absent-minded and disinterested.

And whatever’s wrong, he prefers to hold inside.

Nonetheless, while your feelings for Zach have faded, you genuinely hope he’s happy and that you can be friends with him again one day.

The next morning, you wake up in Rafe’s bed. His arm is around your waist, his breath warm against your back. He’s still snoozing when you slip out of bed to get water.

Zach’s sitting at the kitchen island, staring down at his coffee. It’s almost funny how just over three months ago, you were here for the first time, yearning for Zach to give you a hint that he liked you. Now, you’re falling for Rafe.

“Morning,” you say kindly.

Zach looks up from his coffee. His smile doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey.”

You open the fridge, the awful feeling he’s been giving you lately sitting heavy on your heart. He makes you feel unwelcome, which is something you never expected from him.

“Just getting some water,” you say, searching through the shelves. “He’s definitely gonna wake up with a headache.”

Zach tenses. You’re doing for Rafe what he daydreamed you doing for him. Sharing a bed with him, nursing his hangover, touching him and smiling at him and giving him what Zach would die for.

You look so pretty in the morning, your bedhead adorable, your pajamas complimenting your figure. Why won’t his heart just catch up with his mind? He keeps telling himself to get over you.

He notices that you have Rafe’s ring on your finger. He used to imagine you wearing his things. He’d love to see you in his team hoodie. But he never will.

In another world, you’re in this kitchen as his girlfriend, talking about last night’s party, sharing kisses and laughs. But not in this world.

“I never asked you,” you say, your back to him, “how was that book I got you?”

You hope it serves as a reminder for how much you did for him and how much you care about him. It hurts, the way he’s been keeping you at a distance.

Late at night, as your mind drifts away from you when you try to fall asleep, you’ve considered the possibility of Zach being upset because he’s jealous of Rafe and wants to be with you.

But Rafe told you he checked with Zach to make sure your relationship was okay with him and he even said he didn’t feel anything for you. Maybe Zach thinks you’re not good enough for his brother and he’s too nice to actually say it out loud.

“Good,” Zach says.

You grab two water bottles and close the fridge door. One word is all he’s willing to say to you.

You can’t do it again. You can’t ask him for the hundredth time if you did something wrong, just for him to say you didn’t and he’s sorry that he made you feel like you did.

You leave him alone in the kitchen, padding up the stairs. Zach looks down at his coffee again. His eyes are starting to burn with tears.

He wants to remind his brother that they agreed they wouldn’t let people overstay. And you being here for even one night feels like overstaying. He can’t have you and every time he’s reminded of that, it hurts.

He can’t stop thinking about that night in the elevator and wishing that instead of drunkenly rambling about his brother, he rambled about his feelings for you. At least then, everything would have been out in the open long before you really got to know Rafe.

The girl he met through the video messaged him last night, asking if he was up to hang out again. She’s cute and nice. But she’s not you. And it’d be wrong to pursue someone just to numb the pain of not having you.

That’s all he wants. You. And because he was such a coward, he’ll never have you. Maybe at some point, he had a chance. Maybe you would have grown feelings for him if he was honest with you.

But you seem happy. So does Rafe, who actually wants hold you and kiss you in public. He was never like that with any other girl.

Zach realizes that while he was always so sure he coped with everything that life hurled at them better than Rafe, he wasn’t paying attention to how destructive he is to himself. His martyrdom was never a virtue.

He’s too late. He self-sabotaged. He has nobody to blame for his aching loneliness but himself. That’s the most heartbreaking part of this whole thing.

Rafe’s hair is tousled, his smile lazy when you come back to bed.

“Thought you left me,” he murmurs tiredly into your hair, pulling you tight against his warm body. You smile, your cheek pressed against his chest, breathing in his comforting scent.

Rafe’s sure you can feel his pulse on your cheek. He feels like you own every beat of his heart.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” you tell him.

The tension from what happened downstairs leaves your system. You swallow down the tears that threatened to fall when you left the kitchen.

You plant a kiss on Rafe’s chest. You know where you’re wanted. And you’re happiest staying there.

(the end)

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[heats-lover-girl]

Funny moments with your baby/toddler.

Feat. Kid, Killer, Heat and Wire

Tw: toilet water, cussing, mentions of throwing up

(I'm gonna give the babies names, if you dont like the name you can change it. But all but one are scottish oriented.)

Kid:

When Kid doesn't get his way, or if he doesn't like something, theres usually a grunt or growl of frustration that follows. Eilidh, your one year old, happened to pick it up the day you where getting her to try a new food.

You had Eilidh in a high chair that Kid made, smacking her little hands on the tray as you spooned some mashed peaches into her mouth. Eilidh's happy face turned sour and she let the mashed food dribble down her chin, "Oh no, Eili, did you not like it?" you giggled. All you got in return was furrowed brows and a growl, it made you pause for a moment before bursting into laughter.

Kid walked into the room seeing his daughter with a disgusted face and his wife practically on the floor beside herself, "What the fuck is going on?"

You look at him with mischief before looking at your now grumpy baby, "Watch, Eili, do you want another bite?" you raise the spoon back to her mouth and she backs away as far as she could before letting out another growl.

It was like a flip switched in Kid's head before he started laughing too. "You copying daddy, pip squeak? That's great!" All he got in response was a now hangry Eilidh yelling and slapping the tray.

"Ok, ok. Let's try something else. I'm sorry baby." You giggle out.

Killer:

Victoria had Killer wrapped around her little finger, so when she asked her daddy if he wanted to play tea party with her, you bet your ass he put everything down and played tea party with his little girl.

So there he was, sitting in a tiny chair in the bedroom, drinking 'tea' (It was really water that Victoria was getting from the connected bathroom). And Killer hyped her up by telling her how great it was.

Every time she brought him another cup he told her it was better than the last, until you came in looking for him.

You watched her bring him his (fifth) cup before asking, "Where is she getting the water?" Killer turned to you, "The bathroom, why?"

You looked him in the eyes with a knowing smile, "Kill, she's two, she can't reach the sink." you tell him.

Killer sat there before looking down, "No, no she can't." he says defeatedly. He stood up, "Exuse me miss Victoria, Daddy needs to go to the bathroom." you look at him, "What are you gonna do?" "Purge."

Heat:

Alisa was a quiet child, in fact, you and Heat where sure she was mute. Both of you where fine with that of course, worried sure, but you and Heat where teaching her basic sign language so she could still communicate with anyone in case of an emergency.

It was a random morning on the Victoria, Ailsa sat between you and Heat so you had an eye on her in case she choked on her food.

That particular morning Heat thought it would be funny to steal one of his daughter's pieces of bacon and winked at her when Ailsa caught him

And in true three year old fashion, this offended her, so while in the middle of you talking with Killer you hear "Mommy," followed by, "Papa stole my food!"

It was silent before the table burst out laughing (you think Killer is laughing, his shoulders are shaking)

You and Heat sat gobsmacked (Your husband more so betrayed than anything) before laughing at Ailsa's confused face.

Guess you didn't need to teach her sign language....

Wire:

Wire had Adair with him in the navigation room while he was writing down charts. The six month old laying in a bassinet, quietly looking at his surroundings with Wire slightly rocking it every once in a while.

The navigator went to erase a mistake when the paper ripped (I hate it when that happens), and was startled to hear a small giggle in the once silent room.

Wire looked over to his son to see Adair's gummy smile and huffed a smile, he turned back to his desk and grabbed an extra piece of paper before looking at his son again. "This funny?" He asks before ripping it.

Adair was sent into full body giggles, his laughter filling the room as Wire continued to rip up the paper, hearing the noise as you passed by, you stuck your head in. "What's going on?" You ask.

Your husband looked at you, " Its funny, Mama's" he says before ripping another piece, sending Adair into another round of giggling. "Ah." You laugh.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Feeling Unwell

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: 1740

CW: Angst, illness, mentions of hospitals, satirical hatred of children, fluff, spencer being the best

a/n: Some fluff to bring you a brief intermission to your Kinktober readings.

Spencer Masterlist

The worst feeling in the world is waking up with a headache. 

Your head felt like a dance floor where ballerinas were doing their petit allegro warm ups, and there was no mercy. Every single sound filled your unopened eyes with fluff from a stuffed animal. 

The second worst feeling in the world was realizing that you couldn’t breathe through your nose, almost suffocating yourself from trying. 

“Maybe a tissue would help.” 

Not even opening your eyes, you use your hand to shove some part of your husband, playful, but grumpily. 

“Thanks, genius.” You grumbled, and curled further into yourself, yanking the blanket over with you. 

The man next to you let out a small, unserious, exclamation as the blanket that was once covering him was single-handedly yanked from his body. 

“Well good morning to you too.” 

You felt as he sat up, and properly woke up; most likely running his hands through his hair and putting on his glasses. 

Spencer then placed a hand on your hip, leaning over and kissing your head. “Morning baby.”

But before he could pull away, the heat coming off of your forehead was alarming, even to him. 

The feeling of his lips on your head was momentary bliss, even if it was psychosomatic. Anything Spencer did for you (or to you, if you know what I mean…) always felt good. Being cared for in a genuine way was a true testament to how much people can benefit from love: emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and yes, even physically. 

Spencer gently brushed aside some of the hair covering your temple, and kissed it again, this time with the full intent of taking your temperature. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Does your head hurt?” 

You snorted, but winced as you did, since you didn’t actually cause any sound. Your sinuses were so blocked up, that you ended up making your headache ten times worse.

And that was when the coughing started. 

Not being able to breathe through your nose meant that your chest already ached, but then all of a sudden you couldn’t breathe at all. Your ears both popped, and you could have sworn there was a constant ringing in your right ear. The coughing got worse before it got better, and it only got better because Spencer had jumped out of bed, run into the kitchen in just his briefs, and grabbed a glass of water for you to try and force down your throat. 

“Alright. We’re going to the doctors.” 

A moan of protest left your lips and as you moved to lay back down in the warmth of your own bed, where you could be unbothered by this random man who was insisting that you needed to get up, and go in public. 

“I know, I know baby.” He was now sitting on the edge of your side of the bed, and was running his thumb along your forehead. Your body involuntarily curled itself around his, and you sighed. 

“It’s like you hate me, and you want—”

A cough ripped through your sentence and your throat. 

If someone was walking by, they might have guessed that you were a chainsmoker of thirty years; a chimney of a woman. 

But, unfortunately, you had your guesses about where this mystery illness had come from. 

“Spence.” You managed to croak out. 

He hadn’t left your side, still rubbing his thumb across your head. “Yeah baby.” 

“I think that stupid twerp gave me his illness.” 

Spencer chuckled. “Who are you talking about?” 

“Remember…” You scooted impossibly closer to him, now able to rest your head on his thigh. “Remember that kid from the last case, the one who ended up having to go into the doctors because he was sick. I’d fucking…”

You paused, trying to catch your breath as you spoke. 

If you had to bet money, you’d place your entire net worth–plus your home and all your earthly possessions– that Spencer Reid was some sort of god from beyond comprehension since he was just sitting here, patiently waiting for you to finish your thought, even though it was taking you minutes to spit out one sentence. 

“He must’ve had some sort of stupid…stupid sickness. And I blame Hotch for making me be the one to sit with the kid.” 

Spencer hummed, a sign of support for your theory. 

“If that fucking kid gave me pneumonia or some shit—I’m gonna find him—”

“Alright there trigger happy.” He cut you off and kissed your head again. “I know it’s going to suck so much ass, but we need to go to urgent care because your cough and fever are really starting to worry me.”

“Who the hell even gets pneumonia in the summer anyways.” You grumbled to yourself, and you rolled onto your back, and slowly sat up; Spencer’s hand on your thigh the entire time. 

An anchor as your head sloshed around with illness. 

“I bet I look like a biblical depiction of famine.” 

That made Spencer crack a smile. 

“Glad you feel good enough to joke around about it.” 

“I actually feel like death. That kid’s made worms’ meat of me.” 

Spencer stood up, face filled with amusement. “Alright Shakespeare.”

You took his hand and slowly stood up. Eyes closed as the slight change in altitude made your eardrums pulse, and your head starts to spin. 

“Tomorrow you’ll find me a grave man.” You grumbled, leaning up against Spencer as the world decided to speed up its rotation by about a million. 

“I cannot believe you’re quoting Shakespeare at me while you can’t even stand up right now.” 

You cracked a smile, eyes still closed. “I’ve always liked Mercutio—a man making puns even as he’s dying—that’s my kinda guys.” 

After standing still, in silence, for the next two minutes, you were able to open your eyes and look over at Spencer. “I love you.” 

It was soft, but earnest. 

How lucky were you to have someone who just spent the past fifteen minutes patiently waiting by your side, to get you out of bed so he could take you to the doctors office because you weren’t feeling well. He could have just let you stew in bed, and take the day to be ill at your home. But instead, he sat with you, got you water when you almost died first thing in the morning, and now is your literal crutch as you move to the bathroom, so you could at least brush your teeth. 

You’ll be damned if you don’t at least brush your teeth before going out in public. 

The thought of it almost made you feel worse than what you were feeling now. 

You were awake enough that your body was starting to fight the illness in real time, meaning Spencer had left your side to quickly get dressed. 

He was back by your side a few minutes later, letting you take your time in the bathroom with your morning routine. In his hands was one of your favorite crewnecks to lounge around the house in, and the matching sweatpants. Snoopy around the ankle, and Snoopy and Woodstock across your chest. Something about the Peanuts characters being there made them a little bit comfier. 

“You’re going to deck me out in Snoopy to go to Urgent Care?” 

Spencer nodded and placed them on the counter. “If we end up being there for a while, you’d die in a pair of jeans. Don’t even try to pretend like you were going to put a bra on either” 

“How did a girl get so lucky?” You hummed, and leaned against him again. His arms wrapping around you as your body relaxed every so slightly.

“I have several degrees, including three Phds. That makes me a doctor, and as such, I’m educated well enough to know the perfect woman when I see her. Anyone who doesn’t agree with me, clearly doesn’t have the degree to back up their points.” 

You squeezed him briefly, before pulling away slightly, still encircled in his arms. “We;; Doctor Reid, I can’t argue with a professional. But I must say, your professional opinion is skewed.” 

Spencer kissed your head and shrugged. He went to say some sort of snarky rebuttal, but you interrupted him with yet another coughing fit. 

You had never been to the Sahara desert before, but you could assume this is what it felt like if you were in the middle of it and had accidentally swallowed gallons of sand while the driest wind passed through you. 

Spence just rubbed his hand along your back, waiting for the fit to end. 

Once it had, your body had started to lose some of the initial fervor you had managed to gain from waking up. “Spence, I think I need to just lay down for a while…”

“No.” He shook his head. “You have to put those clothes on and then we’re going to the doctor. I know you want to lay down babygirl, but the sooner we get you medicated, the better.” 

Then he started to talk about breakfast, and your stomach lurched. “The thought of food makes me want to die. It’s not happening right now.” 

Spencer went to speak but you cut him off. “Babe. I will get dressed, and we can go to the hospital, but I’m not hungry. I’m not going to eat, and you’re not going to force me because the thought makes me feel even worse. Deal?” 

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Deal Spence?” 

Spencer just looked at you, and his resolve crumbled a bit. This was your best effort as a compromise. Every single atom you were comprised of made you want to collapse to the ground and enjoy the feeling of no longer being upright. But you were trying for him. He just had to compromise. 

“Deal.” He sighed. “We’re leaving in five okay?” 

“Aye Aye captain.” You placed a kiss on his cheek, not wanting to spread whatever you had to his lungs, and grabbed your clothes. 

Eventually, when you later found out that the kid witness from the previous case had given you viral pneumonia, your resentment for the little twerp grew even more, even resulting in a statement that you were 

“Never going to fucking have kids ever.” 

The statement made Spencer laugh as the two of you drove back home, meds in hand, and fresh hatred of ‘snot nosed children’ in the air. 

[laundrybiscuits]

(Continued from this snippet! Content notes: police interrogation, homophobia)

“You don’t look gay.” The detective gives Steve a very obvious once-over. Steve tries to look gayer as subtly as he can. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Guess I’ll have to let my boyfriend know you don’t think I look gay enough to fuck him.”

The detective’s face twists slightly, like he’s smelled something bad. “No need to be like that. I’m just saying, I bet a good-looking guy like you could get a girlfriend pretty easy.”

“You’re not my type,” says Steve. He smiles with his teeth, even though his heart is going fast and he can feel his palms starting to sweat. 

The detective’s hands tense, and Steve wonders if he’s about to get hit, but they relax again and the detective sits back.

“Just doing my job,” says the detective. “Because, funny enough, we asked around with all your little friends, and it seems like you used to be a bit of a ladies’ man.”

“Things change,” says Steve. 

“In fact…seems like none of your friends ever even saw you talk to Munson before. Moved in different circles and everything. I remember what high school was like.”

The detective leans close. 

“So why would the captain of the swim team, a nice normal boy from a good family with a string of pretty girlfriends, ever—ever—stick his neck out like this for some murdering scum like Munson? That’s what I’m trying to figure out, here.”

“Don’t fucking talk about him like that,” says Steve. His mouth is dry. His pulse is thundering in his ears. “He didn’t kill anyone. He was with me the whole time. He’s—he didn’t kill anyone.”

“Hm,” says the detective. 

It takes a while for them to stop interrogating him. They keep asking him the same questions over and over, trying to trip him up. He asks for water and doesn’t get it. In the back of his mind, a hysterical little voice is shrieking Scoops Ahoy! I work for Scoops Ahoy!, but he manages to keep it locked down. Doesn’t let himself get baited, just keeps repeating that Eddie was with him the whole time and neither of them know anything. 

It takes a while, but it’s over eventually.

When he leaves the station, Eddie’s standing outside with Hopper and Joyce Byers, wearing a shirt and jeans that definitely belonged to Jonathan at some point. Eddie’s got his hands tucked into his armpits, looking antsy and tense, but he’s free and standing on his own two feet. It’s a pretty big upgrade from when Steve last saw him about a week or two ago. 

It’s almost too easy to go straight over to him, wrapping him up in a tight hug like they’ve had their arms around each other a million times. 

“Oof. Easy there, tiger,” laughs Eddie. “I’m, uh, still a little fragile.”

“Sorry,” says Steve, and loosens his hold. He doesn’t let go all the way.

“Come on, boys,” says Joyce. “I’m taking you two home. Steve, Eddie’s been staying with us, but we’re a little short on spare beds and it’s not great for his recovery. We’re moving him to your place until we can figure out something better, okay?” 

———

Joyce drops them off and helps carry in a few garbage bags full of Eddie’s stuff. There’s not that much.

And then the door closes behind her, and Steve’s alone with Eddie for the first time since—actually, maybe ever. 

“So,” says Eddie. “What…the fuck, Harrington.”

“Is that an actual question?” Steve says. He rolls his shoulders, trying to get some of the stiffness out. “I mean, didn’t Hopper and Mrs. Byers explain everything to you?”

“Kind of? I mean, I still think this is probably the worst idea of all time, but they told me—anyway, what I meant just now was a much more personalized and individual what the fuck. As in, why the fuck would you agree to any of this? You know you’re never gonna get another girl in this town to look at you now.”

“Dumping me already? Ice cold, man.”

Eddie groans and actually throws his hands in the air in frustration. Steve hadn’t known people did that in real life. 

“Jesus christ.” Eddie wheels around and grabs two of the garbage bags. “I can’t do this right now, I need to take a fucking nap. We will be discussing this later.”

“Still don’t know what there is to discuss,” says Steve, but he picks up the last garbage bag and leads the way to the spare room. 

Eddie pitches forwards onto the bed, arms outstretched and face mashed into the pillow. “Fuck yes, I am going to marry this goddamn mattress. Hit the lights when you leave,” he says, slightly muffled. 

For a second, Steve finds himself stepping forward with a hand outstretched to—do something. He’s not sure what. Touch Eddie’s hair, or something dumb like that. His face warms. He’s really glad Eddie isn’t looking at him and doesn’t see how he’s kind of just standing there with a hand out for no reason. 

He turns around, flicking the light switch on his way out, and doesn’t look back.

[evermoresqueiswriting]

dance the night

"Baby, you can find me under the lights Diamonds under my eyes Turn the rhythm up, don't you wanna just Come along for the ride? Oh, my outfit so tight You can see my heartbeat tonight I can take the heat, baby, best believe That's the moment I shine"

summary: barbie date and an invitation from clarisse you can't refuse

pairing: clarisse la rue x f!reader

word count: 3.4k

tags: fluff fluff fluff

series masterlist 2/?

You were getting more and more comfortable at camp. You were getting along very well with your siblings. Especially Lee and Cornelia, who explained everything – sometimes twice – to you. They also explained to you that if you wanted to leave camp during the summer, you needed to get an authorisation from Mr. D. And Clarisse knew, so she told you to get it since it was your idea to go see that movie. Your siblings told you he rarely gave them away. 

“Mmh. I accept this challenge.”

“It really wasn’t,” Lee said. “It was a piece of information at best.”

You walked, determined, to Mr. D’s office. You didn’t have many arguments, but Cornelia did tell you Mr. D was always looking for campers to give him alcohol even though his father, Zeus, forbade him to drink any. Mr. D was playing cards with Chiron. Maybe it wasn’t the right time, you hesitated before Chiron looked up.

“Yes?” he said, putting his cards down. 

“Mmh,” you froze before staring at your camp director, “I needed to talk to Mr. D, please.”

Chiron turned his face to look at Mr D, and he took off his sunglasses before looking at you.

“What?”

“I need authorisation to leave camp for one day,” you explained firmly. “Please.”

“And why would I give you that?” 

“Because I need it. For next week, the 21st,” you begged.

Mr D stared at you, bored. He was ready to take back his cards, when you shouted, desperately.

“I–I’ll give you alcohol in exchange!” 

“No you will not!” Chiron gave you a hard stare. “Zeus–.”

“I’m desperate, so yes I will.” 

Mr D was still silent. 

“What is this about y/n?” Chiron asked. “Why do you need to leave camp?”

“I– I asked Clarisse on a date. Well,” you faltered. “It’s not exactly a date I don’t think, it’s more like I won a bet, and what I asked for was for us to go see a movie together. So maybe it is? And it would suck for me if I can’t go, when I won the bet you know.”

Chiron and you were both looking at Mr. D, and you had your best puppy eyes for him.

“Still a no for me,” Mr. D took his cards. 

“Please, please, please, please, please!” 

Mr. D shook his head. You sighed, thinking about what to say to try and convince him to let you go. 

“That’s–,” you hesitated before blurting out “such a homophobic thing to do in 2024 to refuse to let us go on a date! Which is what that is… a date, with us girls.”

“What?” Mr. D muttered confused.

“And during pride month? You have no shame. It’s–.”

“Fine, if I give you this authorisation, will you shut up and leave?”

You nodded vigorously. And Mr. D sent you a  flying paper with the snap of a finger, and after reading the paper to make sure it was legit – which did take a few minutes – you ran away in case he changed his mind. The first person you ran into Luke and asked him if he had seen Clarisse. He pointed at the Ares cabin, and told you he saw her go in. 

You walked to her cabin, and knocked, shouting Clarisse’s name over and over again. The door flew open, revealing an annoyed Clarisse.

“Hi,” you smiled. 

Her face softened slightly at your sight, but she still looked at you annoyed, with her arms crossed. 

“What?”

“Guess what?” your hands were in your back, hiding away the piece of paper you got earlier.

“Your boyfriend called your mom to ask her why you ditched him?” 

“What?” you hesitated. “No. First, I don't have a boyfriend, they were all losers in my school. And no girlfriends either for the same reason.”

“Good,” she nodded. “So what was the news then?”

The paper was still held behind your back, you held her gaze a few more seconds before showing her proudly the paper. She looked at the paper, frowning, and then took your paper. You stood there patiently, swinging on your feet, waiting for her to finish reading it at her own pace. 

“How did you get Mr. D to agree to this?” she puts the paper down. 

“It’s a secret. But I’ll tell you if you want to know.”

“Of course I do, no one here in years got one of these,” she shook the paper in front of you. 

You held up your index, and made a ‘come closer’ motion with it. She came closer, and you put your face even closer, her nose almost touching yours. Clarisse was taller than you – taller than most campers actually – and your face was facing up. And having her this close to you, it was as if time had stopped. You smiled. 

“I promised him alcohol,” you whispered. 

“What!” she stepped back. “Do you know Zeus–.”

“I know, I know, Cornelia told me. I don’t remember what I said after that,’ you lied, “I guess he just likes me.”

“Okay,” Clarisse smiled, “liar.”

Clarisse and you stood there, at the threshold of the Ares cabin for a few more moments, just enjoying each other's company before her siblings ran in, pushing you toward Clarisse. Your  body slammed against hers, her arms wrapped around your shoulders to steady you. You would have been upset if it weren’t for the outcome. But Clarisse quickly let go before grabbing the shirt of her brother – Mark – and made him stop in his tracks. You didn’t hear what she said, but you saw Mark nodding vigorously before walking away. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Clarisse grabbed your arm and led you outside. 

“So,” you started when she stopped under a tree and sat there. “Do you know what you’re going to wear?”

“No. Do you?”

“Uh obviously! I have the perfect outfit for Barbie. I actually planned this before coming here, minus the ‘going to camp half-blood’ cause I didn’t think I’d end up here. It’s all pink, and cute and oh, should I also do my nails? Should we do our nails all pink?” you beamed at the idea.

“No.”

“True, yours do look very good in black,” you nodded. “Oh, we could cosplay Barbie and Raquelle. But it’s not going to be accurate, Raquelle hates Barbie.”

“I think it’s pretty accurate,” she shrugs. 

You slapped her arms playfully before laying your head on her lap. The weather was nice, the sun was out and the leaves were shading you from it, the perfect combination for you to take a nap. And then Clarisse started to run her fingers on your arm which made it for you. You were asleep in no time.

“Wake up sunshine,” Clarisse pinched you lightly on the hip. You jerked awake. 

“What?” you mumbled, standing up. 

“I have to meet up with my brothers and sisters for the next Capture the Flag strategy.”

“Can I come too?” you yawned. 

“We’re not on the same team, remember.”

“I won’t tell them anything.”

“Nope,” she walked away, “don’t follow me,” she turned around, walking backwards. 

I’d follow you everywhere you go Clarisse La Rue. 

“I won’t,” you said instead. 

The night before the date, you laid out your outfit neatly before washing up to go to bed. Cornelia was your bunkmate, with the bed above yours. But before going to sleep, you loved updating each other’s day. 

“So tomorrow huh,” Cornelia sat on your bed. “I never thought I’d live to see Clarisse being friendly with anyone other than her siblings.”

“I think she’s funny.”

“Sure, if funny was a synonym of mean. Wait– do you even have money to spend on tomorrow’s activities?” 

“Actually I do. Mr. D did tell me he wouldn’t give me any, and thank gods I found a load of cash in my backpack. My mom gave it to me. I mean she did write it was for any expense that I would have to make on my way home, but I have other priorities.”

“Clearly,” she rolled her eyes, laughing. “You’re gonna regret this in August.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Like before any exciting day, it took some time to fall asleep. Anxiety and excitement mixing together, making up the worst and best scenarios. What if Clarisse is just messing with you and forgot? That can’t happen, you just saw her a few hours ago talking about it. What if you annoyed her so much with it, she’d stood you up? What if she doesn’t like everything you planned? Not a single positive and happy ‘what if’ comes to your mind. 

“Wake up!” someone shakes you awake. “It’s 8 already, you're going to be late!” Cornelia said. 

“Fuck!” you ran to the washroom. 

You rushed through your routine, before rushing back to your bed and grabbed your outfit, and put it on. And all of that only took 28 minutes. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a final check up, before opening the door. Clarisse was already there. Her curls free, just like the first time you saw her. It felt weird not seeing her in her usual orange tee, but she still looked pretty. She wore a simple short brown tank top with blue faded jeans, with her beaded necklace still hanging from her neck.

“You look really pretty today,” Clarisse smiled shyly, holding her arms around her.

“Thanks,” you approached her, putting your hands on her arms and leaned in, “you look pretty every day.”

“Don’t come home too late,” Lee interrupted, appearing just next to you. 

“Don’t worry, but also don’t wait up!” 

You grabbed Clarisse’s hand and dragged her away from your cabin. A taxi was waiting for you outside of the camp, and in no time you were at the local theatre in the middle of nowhere. And lucky for you, the people of this town weren’t going to see the 9:30am slot for Barbie. Except for that one couple sitting in the back. You dragged Clarisse in the middle, and sat with the popcorn and sodas. You ate in silence, watching the trailers. 

Well that was not fun. The worst ‘what ifs’ from last night came back immediately making you anxious. It was not supposed to be like this. What if she wasn’t enjoying herself. What if she was mad because she ate a salty popcorn when you asked for the sweet ones. What if she was disappointed—

“Ouch,” you looked at her, frowning, rubbing your arm. “Why did you do that?”

“You were ignoring me.”

“What? Oh I– I didn’t hear sorry.”

“I asked you, what’s the deal with Barbie anyway? Why are you so excited about a blonde, white, plastic doll?”

“W– Barbie is not– ok. She is a plastic doll, and she may not look like us but it’s the idea of Barbie, the idea that us women can be anything we want. And how in Barbie Land, it’s all about girls and women being able to be whoever they want, and have whatever jobs they want. Barbie is literally a doctor, a pilot, a model, a chef, a fashion designer, a business woman, a teacher – she has every job in the world. And there is no one telling her that she can’t do that because she’s not a man. And also, the Barbie franchise is my childhood. The movies, they deserve an Oscar honestly–,” you stopped. “Sorry, I talk too much.”

“I asked,” her attention went back to the screen. “So did you have any barbies?”

“Of course! I had Barbie's dreamhouse, and so many barbies and outfits. I’m surprised I didn’t end up being a writer with all my imagination. Did you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“My mom wasn’t the kind to buy me anything. And certainly not dolls.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t feel sad for me, I’m fine,” she gave you a quick glance.

“I’m not!” you frowned. “So you never watched Barbie and A Christmas Carol? The best Barbie movie ever?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, we have to change that. Mmh. But phones and laptops aren’t allowed though… Maybe if I bring my mom’s DVD player next summer.” 

“Already planning on your next move to woo me?” she teased, approaching you. 

Your eyes widened, your cheeks were hot.

“I– No! I– I– I don’t.”

“Relax sunshine, I’m kidding,” she laughed. 

And just then, the lights went out and the movie was about to start, thank the gods. Because you did not know what to say. The movie was incredible, you shed a few tears at the end, and sang Dance The Night with Clarisse laughing and cheering you on. It was a great experience, and it was even better to have watched it with Clarisse. 

“Did you like it?” you asked her when the credits started rolling.

“Yes. It was great.”

“And you’ll love the other Barbie movies because they are way less depressing.”

“So, what’s next?” she stood up.

“It’s almost time to eat, what do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

“No you choose, I insist,” you smiled.

Really you were just very indecisive. Clarisse settled for a burger place not too far away from the cinema. There weren't many people inside, so you were able to choose where to sit – a table next to the window. It was a booth seat, so you had your own booth each, facing each other, menu in hand. 

“So, what are you choosing?” you asked her.

“I’ll take the Highwayman. You?”

“The Roadhouse looks good.”

Clarisse raised her hand and weaved at the waitress, when you grabbed her hand. 

“Wait!”

“What?”

“Can you order for me please?”

She furrowed her brow, but nodded. You smiled. You only waited ten-or-so minutes before the waitress came back with your food. Like always, you checked the inside of your burger before eating it, you picked out the onions and the tomato. 

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t like these.”

“Couldn’t you have asked the waitress to take them out.”

“No…”

“Give me your tomato then,” she opened her burger bun.

You were the one entertaining lunch. Clarisse asked questions about your life and you told her – you told her stories about your childhood, your school, your mom and she listened, nodding along. Once you were done, you took a cab and decided to go to the mall. 

“We don’t have any money,” Clarisse stopped you when you were going to step into the mall. 

“I do. Remember I paid for the tickets, and the food.”

“Yeah, but I thought you only had enough for these.”

“Nope. Well, remember how I said my mom is an opera singer. It was you fifty percent talent and fifty percent nepotism and generational wealth. Meaning I’m rich, I mean my mom but her love language is sending me money for not raising me,” you joked.

She stared at you, concerned. 

“I’m kidding,” you grabbed her hand, “let’s shop.”

Clarisse refused to accept anything you’d set eyes on for her. 

“Well, at least try on some of them, just to see.”

She agreed to it, which was a mistake because now that you knew her size, you could buy her everything she laid eyes on. She was trying on this dark green simple long sleeve tee shirt, and after she put it back, you took it with you.

“What are you doing?” she tried to grab the tee shirt back. 

“I might want it for myself!” you hid it behind your back. 

‘Doesn’t look like something you’d wear.”

“My style changes, it depends on my mood. Maybe I want us to have matching clothes.”

“Then why is there only one in your hand?”

You quickly grabbed another one. And then it was settled. You’d buy her things and then another copy for you – everything went, from boots to tee shirts to pants, and jackets. Then you went to a jewellery shop. You needed new rings because yours flew away from your hands during the last Capture the Flag – they were obviously a tad too big. 

“Did you find anything you like?” you asked her. 

“No, they aren't the most useful things to have.”

You pouted, and threw a bunch on the table. 

“What are you doing?”

“Putting these back on the shelves, cause I chose half of these for you,” you sighed dramatically. 

“Oh,” she took a look at the jewellery. 

Various rings and bracelets.

“They’re great, I love them.”

“No you don’t.”

“You picked them out so yes, I do.”

“You don’t have to, it’s fine,” you sighed. 

“Maybe you don’t have to buy all of it, just one of each.”

You nodded, and picked one ring for her, and two bracelets for each of you. You gave them to the seller to wrap them and left to look at other items. Clarisse soon joined you and soon enough the seller gave a little bag, you paid and left. Your hands were full of shopping bags, and before leaving you needed a little bit of rest so you two sat on the chairs in the resting area. Thankfully the mall wasn’t too crowded as it was still early in the afternoon on a random Tuesday. 

“Huh!” you gasped pointing at something behind Clarisse.

“What?” she turned around swiftly, not seeing any threat. 

“A photobooth!” you smiled.

You stood up, grabbed all of your bags and walked to the booth, hoping Clarisse was following you. You turned around, and Clarisse was still sitting still, legs crossed, leaned into the chair, staring at you. You held your hands together, and motionned her to come. She didn’t move for a good minute, but seeing how you weren’t going to move, she caved in and stood up. 

“Sunshine,” she put her hands on your shoulders, “you can look at me for free, I won’t charge you, don’t worry.” 

You rolled your eyes, smiling. 

“You’ll thank me in a few years because of this. Pictures are the best kind of souvenirs.”

Clarisse got in first, the space was a tight fit, and you were glued to Clarisse, but you two fit in the frame so it was good. You put the coins inside, and waited for it to take the picture. But that was not good enough for Clarisse – she put her arm around your waist and scooped you onto her lap.

“Better?” 

You nodded, staring at her. 

“Better,” you confirmed. 

You went to take a pose but too late, the four pictures were already taken. 

“It’s fine, we’ll take another one.”

Another turned into another few more and you ended with a ton of pictures. By the time you left the mall it was already pretty late. Almost time to go home. But neither of you wanted that, so you went to the beach instead – main beach in the east. It was empty – people at this hour were all eating. You two sat on the sand, far from the shore. 

“Did you have a great time?” you asked.

“Yes,” she looked at you, “did you?”

You nodded enthusiastically. 

“Aren’t you glad you lost that bet against me?”

“Mmh,” she shrugged, “my option would’ve been just as good for me.”

“Well, I am glad I won. I prefer this option much better.”

Clarisse started to lay down but you grabbed her arm. 

“Sand will get in your hair.”

“I’ll wash it tonight, it’s fine.”

You shook your head, and took off your blouse and laid it on the sand, behind Clarisse. She tried to protest, but you were quicker. 

“I don’t want this day to end,” you admitted, staring at the waves. “I don’t think Mr. D will give us another authorisation anytime soon,” you laughed. 

Clarisse stared at you, not saying anything. You arrived at camp only a week ago, and yet you two were already closer than she was with any of her siblings. You were nice to her, always rooting for her, and you were a great friend. Not many people were these things to the Ares kids. 

“There this field trip around October,” Clarisse sat up again, “I suppose you’re not staying around the whole year. But it’d be great if you could come.”

“A field trip? To where?”

“It’s something we do once a year at camp,” she explained. “A trip to Olympus.”

You thought about it. 

“Are you asking me to meet your father? I didn’t think we were already at this stage so early on."

[myfairstarlight]

I've started to see takes saying Colin deserves better than Penelope, and claiming she "got away with everything", and to that I must say:

Whistledown was never created out of jealousy or anger. It was born from a lonely girl who wished to be part of a society that rejected her, so she wrote about it.

Penelope never pursued Colin. This wasn't some nefarious plan of hers like that take makes it sound like. He's the one who did all the chasing. Penelope was very much planning on distancing herself from him and the Bridgertons after last season. He's the one who couldn't let her go

She literally offers the annulment knowing there might still be people angry at her for Whistledown. That's her taking accountability and absolving the Bridgertons from dealing with her mess. Guess what he does again? He refuses, fully accepting the challenges ahead. Now that's marriage. And standing by his cancelled wife.

She decides to come clean in front of the whole Ton despite everyone around her trying to find an out for her. She could have taken the easy way out, lie to get the rest of the blackmail money needed, but she refused to drag the rest of the Bridgertons into this.

"Penelope faced no consequences" she is wracked with guilt for half the season, her closest loved ones turned away from her, and she got blackmailed. This is also a romance show the queen was NOT going to behead her as punishment, actually, go watch Game of Thrones instead

She was already changing the column to be more uplifting towards women and less confrontational with the Queen (even as the other debutantes talked shit about her, and the Queen threatened her). She was aware that her previous tone in her writing may have led to more problems. She is atoning for her past mistakes already.

Really looking back the only real mistakes she made was with Marina and Eloise. These were exceptions to what she usually writes as she exposed their secrets, not gossip. That's an important distinction to make. One the show itself does not make, actually.

You can add what she wrote about Colin too as an exception, since she was being petty and angry, and she regrets it immediately

She confessed everything to Violet. Granted, we do not see the letter, but she did come clean to the head of the family (since Anthony already left, otherwise I bet she would have told him too)

The one thing I agree with is that we had no closure for the Marina situation, despite her being mentioned several times.

But overall, she was remorseful, and she tried to fix things. She reached out to Eloise several times before they reconcile, she changed her column, and she now wishes to use her column to give a voice to the voiceless, the same way Whistledown helped her find a voice.

And Colin, well, he's only ever wanted Penelope, even after the reveal. Because Penelope remains the only one who truly understood him and supported him for being himself. Meanwhile Penelope is trying to be better. That's the key word, she wants to do better, so no she does not "get away with everything" because there was never malicious intent from her in the first place, but for the damage she did do, she wants to make up for them. And yeah, she's a goddamn mess, but as he said, she is his mess.

However, Colin did deserve better, but in terms of writing and screen time especially in part 2. We were told, more than shown, about his struggles, which is a bit of a shame when compared to Penelope's (and yet people still misunderstand her character, so).

[neerons]

Some of Clavis Lelouch’s best quotes + Cyran's bonus quotes

"Tell me, Emma, what do you think is the best way to wake someone who's really bad at waking up? (...) That's right, you stab them." (—Clavis talking about Chevalier to Emma)

"Finding such a handsome man in your room is enough to leave anyone breathless. Take your time. I know I'm easy on the eyes. (...) Oh, nice reaction! There's nothing like a good AHHHHH to get me in the mood."

“I didn’t do anything. But next time, don’t be intimidated by these status-crazed nobles. You don’t owe them anything—not even a smile. If someone looks down on you, look down on them in return. Otherwise, your self-worth will start to plummet. Never abandon your self-respect just to calm the situation. I know you’re a wonderful person—I wouldn’t have chosen you as my wife if not.”

"You succumbed to delusion."

"You weren't paying any attention to me at all. I got so lonely, I almost died!"

"...I want to make love to you."

"I'll tell you a secret about Chevalier. You want to know right? I bet you do. (...) He likes romance novels, but the reason for that is... Me. (...) One day, I secretly added to his pile of books... I put a book that boasted its dewy, spicy romance in the pile."

"Haha! When you're as handsome as I am, you look good no matter what state you're in. You just need better understanding of aesthetics." (—Clavis to the "Obsidianite soldier")

"Haha! You don't need to apologize. Who says only kids are allowed to be bouncy? What's wrong with adults being genuine about loving the things they love?"

"Oh, the things you say! Don't you realize you threaten to unleash the beast that hides behind this gentleman's visage?" (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"What a fool I was to think I was done falling in love with you. The depths I could fall for you seem endless."

“We can do it on the table, or by the windowsill again, if you like. Ah, but I don’t recommend the floor—not unless you’re into that.”

"I would never allow my lovely fiancee to live a life of fear. And so I must take it upon myself to indulge her in a life of joy." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"Wait, wait, wait! (...) Chevalier, you cannot possibly be trying to replace the words 'I love you' with that one kiss. (...) Why else would Emma have dressed up so beautifully? It's all so she can hear you say those three words! (...) Yes, not all things need to be said, but there is a purpose in giving words to feelings. That's how you can bring them into the real world. Chev, you can't let Emma guess how you truly feel forever. Just tell her. (...) The average person can't read minds like you do. Don't assume that Emma knows everything just because you do." (—Clavis to Chevalier, in Chevalier's route)

"I'm charming, aren't I?"

"Here you are, alone in a secret room with a handsome prince. Why are you only interested in those lifeless husks? (...) That's a little offensive, you know."

"Haha! Go to hell." (—Clavis to Chevalier)

"Goodness, I've never visited that bookstore, and to think it was hiding a gem all this time..." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"Dear me, it looks like they started running the second they spotted me. Haha! That's optimistic of them. " (—Clavis talking about Yves and Licht to Emma)

"You could at least call it artistic. My handwriting conceals talent that would surpass that of a genius artist. (...) It's readable. So long as you take the time to decode it! Haha!" (—Clavis to Jin)

"Ah... Hahaha! I can't believe you headbutted me! You should've slapped me, at least."

"There's no rule that says you have to drink alcohol once you come of age. That said, it might be more romantic to let you get drunk and then take care of you until you sober up. Wait here, I'll just get some—"

"Of course, I'm not trying to criticize your own personal standards for good and evil. But throughout our lives, we're constantly being confronted by our perceptions of good and evil. And there are times when we might regret it later, if we decide to be critical of something simply because 'it's evil'. Our own individual standards for good and evil may not always be aligned with the kingdom's standards for good and evil. And if that happens, wouldn't you want to remain true to your own standards? To what you believe is good and right?"

"So you're comfortable drinking. I'll keep that in mind." (—Clavis' thoughts about Emma)

"(...) I'm well aware that of all the princes, I was the one most loved by his mother. Although I suppose it's not really a surprise, given how adorable and cute I was. (...) Haha! Why are you apologizing? There's no rule that says we can't talk about the deceased. And there's no need to feel guilty, either. I'm not some silly child who gets all worked up just from thinking about her." (—Clavis talking about his mother to Emma)

"I love drawing attention to myself, you know that. I wanted everyone in the palace talking about me, so I made it seem as if I'd gone missing." (—Clavis to Sariel)

"...You're surprisingly sweet on Emma, aren't you?" (—Clavis to Chevalier)

"Well obviously, because I like rabbits. And from what I know of rabbits... They may seem aloof, but they're actually very sweet and loving, and if you're lucky, they'll even let you see that side of them. I think they're adorable. And despite being delicate and easily frightened, they won't run from anything—they'll stand their ground and put on a brave face. I can't think of any other creature that instills in me such an urge to protect them. You see? Everything about them is lovable." (—Clavis talking about Emma secretly)

"But that's why Rhodolite is so well-balanced. If we all agreed with Leon, the kingdom would constantly be in danger from outside. If we all agreed with Chevalier, it would end up a dictatorship."

"You're about the only person who willingly visits the brutal beast's lair."

"Just so we're clear, this doesn't even count as a setback to me. I've tasted defeat countless times at the hands of a brother more beastly than anyone in Obsidian. I've never once made the right choice. I'm a loser, constantly making mistakes, and constantly being laughed at for them. (...) When you fail, it's easy to give up. It's easy to think your ideas are wrong, and yield to the right choice. But this is what I do. Every time I fail, I get up again, and I fight even harder, so that next time, maybe I won't fail. I don't care about what's right for the kingdom. I stay true to what's right for me, and that's the only way I've found any meaning in my life. Even if what I believe to be right and true is actually wrong, and even if I'm called evil and wicked for doing what I do... I'll fight against the brutal beast's methods with everything I have in me. And I'm not going to die until I've made him kneel before me, and accepted that my beliefs are just as righteous as his are. (...) And since I've spent my life tasting nothing but defeat, I think I can declare this with some certainty. So long as you go on living, you'll never really be a loser. Because there is no such thing. Even if you lost this time, you just have to win next time to be the winner. And if nothing else, you'd be able to die a prouder man than you will now. (...) Today's failures will lead you to tomorrow's hope. Always, as long as you don't give up. And that's why I'm going to get up and try again. What about you? Are you going to die a dog's death here?" (—Clavis to the "Obsidianite soldier")

"What a shame... Were my hands not bound right now... I'd already be making love to you."

"Haha! Not a chance. I adore her." (—Clavis denying disliking Emma to Gilbert)

"I've always tried to be a gentleman, and live by the tenet that women are free to come and go as they please. But with you, I find myself wondering whether I should be using handcuffs, rope, or maybe a strong net."

"All right, then, I guess I'll just have to slip a few weapons into your luggage to help celebrate your departure. At the very least, I've already included a shovel." (—Clavis helping Emma escape from Obsidian)

"My brother is an absolute genius when it comes to angering people in just about every way possible. He outclasses us all in that, too." (—Clavis talking about Chevalier)

"Dearie me, don't tell me you're here for a secret tryst with my brother? I never imagined this unsociable beast might finally have his sexual awakening—" (—Clavis talking about Chevalier to Emma)

"(...) It's a water jet device designed to keep you cool in sultry summer evenings. I made it expressly for you. Isn't it brilliant?"

"The only people he could hold a proper conversation with were those who faced him head-on." (—Clavis' thoughts about Chevalier)

"(...) I don't care about me, but I don't think it's appropriate to be pointing guns at a woman, do you?" (—Clavis protecting Emma from 'someone')

"You really are gorgeous... I'm so captivated by you... that I feel I might forget how to be a gentleman for good."

"You could tie me down any day, my lovely fiancee."

"Ah. Hello, insecurity. I had not missed you at all. If I want to make my lovely fiancee happy, I'm going to need to start being more confident." (—Clavis' thoughts)

"You're so beautiful when you're watching something with rapt attention."

"How could you treat your kind little brother like this, when he worked himself to the bone trying to keep your library nice and tidy? I'm going to tell Emma on you." (—Angry Clavis to Chevalier)

"Well, first, I'd love to be able to pamper you in the bathroom. I want to wash your hair and gently exfoliate your skin so it's super soft. (...) Next, I want to hire a famous artist to draw a portrait of you than I can hang on my wall. I want one so big it'll cover the entire thing. Maybe I'll even get a bunch of you drawn. Seeing lots of you while I work would be good for motivation. (...) Also, I would love it if we could change up how we say good night. Every day, before bed, I want us to say 'I love you' instead of just 'good night'. (...) Oh, it's also my dream to go on a trip around the world with you! I just want to explore new sights with you and kiss and cuddle you in new places."

Cyran's bonus quotes:

"(...) Prince Clavis lies incessantly, so feel free to ignore everything he says. (...) Everything. You've no need to be worried about his feelings, or even keep him company. And it might be in your best interests to refuse to eat any of this." (—Cyran talking about Clavis and his cooking to Emma, in front of Clavis)

"You're still half-asleep, aren't you? You're a disgrace." (—Cyran to Clavis)

"When we finally catch up to him, I think we should team up and give him a good scolding!" (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Emma)

"Since you left me behind like that, I've decided to hold a grudge against you forever. (...) Do it again and I'll throttle you, master or no. Just so you know." (—Cyran to Clavis)

"My Lady, I'm afraid that Prince Clavis's plan is truly stupid. A prince in his right mind would never even plan such a thing, and the average person would recoil in shock at the very idea of it."

"Prince Clavis, you can't just go casually tossing your head in her lap like that. My Lady, you're more than welcome to slap him awake at this point."

"(...) despite all that, there was one fool prince who stormed into the camp where the prisoners were being held. Yep, I'm talking about the idiot prince currently sleeping like a babe in your lap."

"From the way he acts, it's easy to mistake him for a fool and a scoundrel, but... at heart, he's the kindest, most compassionate man I've ever met." (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Emma)

"...So where is he, this handsome man? (...) ...You're a total mess right now, you realize. You look dreadful. Want me to get you a mirror?" (—Cyran to Clavis)

"My Lady, I truly am sorry, but... I've been ordered to inform you that, and I quote, 'your prince is in grave danger and needs you to rescue him! Ahaha'! (...) ...He insisted I include the 'ahaha' at the end." (—Cyran delivering a message from Clavis to Emma)

"Very well. I'll inform him that you said to die in pain and agony." (—Cyran talking about Clavis to Chevalier)

"Really? Are you sure? Ahh, this is great, it means I can get away from my troublesome master for a while. I look forward to serving you, My Lady, and I'll do my absolute best for you!" (—Cyran replying to Clavis' order to be Emma's personal bodyguard)

"My Lady, you're the sort of person who worries constantly about other people, without ever thinking about yourself. Like at the party, when you tried to protect Prince Gilbert from that guy with the knife. That sort of thing."

"...Farewell, my peaceful days."

"...Stay strong, my lady. I know exactly how you feel, but know that I am cheering you on."

[notjustjavierpena]

I need more Inez and Reader interactions in my life. She’s so precious! Like a nightmare or bad day and she’s just clinging to reader for comfort all day. I feel like reader would be so empathetic to the kids emotions and wouldn’t ignore them feeling sad knowing that to them it’s a big deal.

Comfort (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Don’t mind me healing trauma for myself and others.

Summary: Inés has a nightmare and needs her Mamá.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, hurt/comfort, Javier loves his girls, nightmares and talk about big feelings

Word count: 900

Comfort

At four in the morning, Javier has his arms around your waist as you sleep soundly. The moon is out, its shine coming through the thin curtains and illuminating the bedroom in a silvery light. You are far off into your dreams when the handle on your bedroom door starts to rattle slightly. It makes your eyes flutter open as your parental instincts are activated and Javier stirs beside you a moment later. 

You reach for the lamp on the bedside table and switch it on with a click. Javier does the same and a soft yellow glow replaces the eerie moonlight. Next is the sound of your bedroom door opening and revealing Inés standing on her tippy toes to make herself tall enough to reach for the doorknob. 

She whimpers as she spots you both already awake, padding clumsily and carefully across the floor to stand by your side of the bed. When she is close enough for the lamplight to reach her, you notice there are tears in her big brown eyes. 

“Sweetie,” you coo, “What’s wrong?”

Javier shifts a little beside you at the sight of his crying child. He sits up and tries not to sound too tired, “¿Qué pasa (what’s wrong)? You’re crying, mi vida (my life).”

“Mommy, I had a bad dream,” she blubbers suddenly but her tone is filled with fear. She is already climbing into the bed, completely ignoring her father’s attempts to soothe her. He says nothing for a moment before lying down again, allowing you to handle the situation. 

You untangle yourself from your husband to create space for Inés in your arms, guiding her to crawl over your body and lie down between you and her father. You turn your body to face her once more. 

When she whimpers softly as you lay an arm over her to squeeze her close, you tut gently, “Oh baby. It’s over now. You’re okay.”

“It was really scary,” she tells you. 

“I bet it was,” Javier replies, “You know how I sometimes get—“

“Daddy, I only want Mommy,” she interrupts him, looking briefly over her shoulder at her father and you hold back a snort when he shuts up with slight offense in his eyes. 

“I guess I’ll just go back to sleep then,” he mutters with exasperation and you reach over to pat his arm with smug victory. He rolls his eyes, trying not to show his wounded ego, but when you turn back your attention to Inés, you don’t see the way the exasperation in his eyes turns into a soft gaze. He loves you like this; as the gentle mother to his children. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?” You ask to gain her attention again, suppressing a yawn. Javier reaches to turn off the light again but you hold out a hand to stop him, mouthing a ‘leave it on’ to him.

Your husband can sense that you have things under control. He moves around for a few seconds before falling asleep once more, the tip of his nose pressing into Inés’ little bare shoulder as a way of letting her know that he is right there even if all she seems to need is you. 

“You and Daddy forgot me,” she says with a quivering bottom lip and crawls further into your arms. Beside you, Javier feels his daughter move away and lays a gentle hand on her stomach. You brush a tuft of hair out of her face while she continues, “I was all alone. I didn’t like it.”

“Sometimes our mind knows what scares us the most and feels the need to remind us. You know how Papá sometimes gets scared at night like you just did,” you say whilst repeatedly running a hand over her forehead, “But Papá and I would never forget you, baby. You bring us so much happiness every day. We couldn’t go a day without you. Do you understand?”

Inés’ eyebrows are still furrowed but she nods. You rest your cheek against the top of her head, “I know it was really scary. I would be scared too.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she cries quietly, “What if the bad dream comes back?”

“You have to try,” you brush a tear away, “But if you get scared again, I am right here. You can talk to me about anything.”

When you only receive a sad noise and an even more clingy child, you pull back slightly to let your arm lie above her. Your hand hovers above her forehead, “Do you want me to do the eyebrow thing? Make your eyes so heavy they can’t stay open, huh?”

“Yes, please,” she pouts.

You cradle her head in your hand and rub the spot between her eyebrows repeatedly. Up and down and up and down. Inés’ eyes shut in less than ten seconds but her breathing tells you that she is still awake. 

“Here’s what I am thinking,” you say, “We stay home from preschool tomorrow, and then we have some fun time just us two. We can go get ice cream and maybe even—“

Inés’ brows relax and you stop talking. Her mouth goes slack as she falls back fully asleep. Javier snores softly in the dim light. Inés does too. 

Oh, you think to yourself, what a privilege it is to be a mother. Tomorrow, you will do everything you just promised and more with your sleeping child.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[luveline]

so! we were talking about hockey!sirius a couple days ago soooooooo

i would love to request hockey!sirius flirting with a reader who is not yet his girlfriend. (bonus points if he does the lighting her cigarettes for her like i would die actually)

thank you for requesting! —hockey player!sirius asks you on a date. 1k

"Hey, you." 

You squeeze your box of cigarettes but manage to keep your flinch to yourself. "Sirius, you're like a ghost," you complain, letting your bag fall back behind you. 

"A fit one, at least?" he asks. "I've caught you, haven't I?" 

You fish your box of cigarettes from your bag guiltily. "Don't tell my coach and I'll give you one." 

"Give me two and I'll let you borrow my clipper."

"A clipper," you drawl, drawing two cigarettes from the box to pass him. "I didn't think you were rich." 

"You know, my parents are loaded." 

You put a cigarette between your lips and shove the box down the depths of your bag, your dirty little secret hidden once again. Sirius knows because he's the only other idiot sportsman at your rink stupid enough to smoke at practice. "Weird brag." 

"Well," —he bobs his head from left to right gently, inhaling sharply as he lights the end of his cigarette, breathing through it, "it would be if I spoke to them." 

"Oh, shit. Sorry." 

"Don't be sorry," he says, his cigarette held carelessly between his lips as he ushers you forward. He's much more careful about you, holding your arm in a gentle hand as he lights the end of your cigarette, and nodding encouragingly when you inhale, his eyes a stony grey where they meet yours. "I brought it up." His hand coasts briefly up to your shoulder before he takes a step back. "I like telling you things." 

You lean against the wall and Sirius leans beside you. The outside of the rink is boring, a huge parking lot full of cars going in and out. Sirius' car, a dark cherry red oldsmobile with more scratches than paint, is parked not too far from where you're standing, a dent the size of a sledgehammer head in the driver's side that wasn't there before. "What happened to the vampmobile?" you ask. 

"James. I bet you never would've guessed," he says sarcastically.  

"I wouldn't have. He's a sweetheart. I'd be much more tempted to think you did it doing doughnuts on the industrial–" 

Sirius cuts you off, flicking the tip of his cigarette with a put upon attitude, "I don't do doughnuts. You think so little of me, sweetpea." 

He says sweetpea like you're the cutest thing on earth. You nudge him mildly and stub your cigarette out on top of the square black bin, half-smoked. "I better go home."

"Working tonight?" 

"No, I finally have a night off. Got a ton of stuff I need to do, but it shouldn't take long." You lift your arms into the air and stretch your sore shoulders, angled away from him to avoid giving him a show of the world's ugliest yawn.  

"Wanna get something to eat?" 

You hurt your jaw trying to stop your yawn midway through, arms falling flat to your thighs. Sirius isn't looking at you, gaze on the vamp mobile, smoke curling like a ribbon between his fingers. He has nicely shaped hands, very boney in the sharp way but still rather inviting, when you think about it. 

"Now?" you ask. 

"Tonight. If you want to, I'll take you out." He takes another drag, eyes flaring in time with the ash. "Don't act like you don't know," he says through the exhale. 

"Know what, Black?" you ask. 

"That I'm mad for you." 

You're suddenly and deeply aware of how you look, a mess after practice, hair straggled from its styling, face without any make up. There's nothing wrong with the way you look, but when you picture someone on Sirius' arm, it's never you. You fiddle with your jacket zipper, voice low, "I didn't know that." 

"I don't believe you." He's not accusatory, simply stating a fact. Sirius stubs his cigarette out next to yours, black hair ruffled in the wind, the scent of him adrift. He smells like smoke, of course, but there's a nicer woodiness beneath it. "I'll take the way you're looking at me as a solid maybe. You can text me." 

"No, I mean. Yeah. I mean–" You stammer as Sirius laughs warmly. "I'll text you. If you really are mad for me." 

"Want me to prove it?" he asks. 

Your lips part of their own accord. You look like a deer-in-the-headlights for sure, completely stopped by the implication. Even the thought of a kiss from his has your pulse capering hard. His hands cold from the rink pressed gently to the warmer stretch of your collar, slipping into the hemline, curling behind your neck as he steps close. You can't summon the kiss itself, too close to bursting, because what would you do? Where would you put your hands? Is there a specific place? 

"Don't look so nervous," he murmurs, his eyebrows pinching ever so slightly together. "I'm not gonna jump you." 

"It's not like that, I just don't know…" 

"About us?" he asks. "That's why I'm trying to ask you on a date. You can make your mind up about us and I'll help you bulk for sectionals."

"I don't need bulking," you say. 

He laughs. "No, you're perfect. Beside your bad habit, that is. We have that in common." Sirius steps forward, pauses. "Can I kiss your cheek?" 

His asking is the last straw. You're melted like a slush curl. 

"Yeah," you say weakly. 

Sirius kisses your cheek gently, and then he tucks his face against the side of your head and gives you a hug. "Text me, yeah? If you want." He peels back to grin at you. "I have to go back in. Elite league won't win itself. Talk to you later, doll."

You watch him retreat back into the centre, not sure what you want to do first; text him, or smoke another cigarette. In the end, you decide against the cigarette. If he's really going to prove how mad he is for you, you don't want to taste like smoke. 

[tiredfox64]

🔆 you’re popping off. your writing rocks brah.

I was hoping maybe you could do Raiden and Kung Lao fighting over readers (fem/afab) attention. Like back and forth jabs. And like Kung Lao trying to show off, kinda talks down on raiden in front of her. where as Raiden takes a more gentle approach with helping the reader with their training, helping her with her form he’ll glance at Kung Lao knowingly. It builds a small wedge between them, so reader decides to invite both over one night. And like you know that movie challengers? Like the zendaya scene where she’s got the two guys kissing her? Like THAT. LIKE THAT. If you can do this. I’ll piss rainbows. 🌈

Are You Challenging Me?

Prior notes: I had only the trailer to work off of so I hope I got things right. Also what a statement from you at the end. It’s not bad it’s unique and I like it.

Pairings: Kung Lao x Afab reader x Raiden

Warnings ‼️: Suggestive at the end

Even those who have been friends for so long can end up fighting over something. That something could be a girl. That girl would be you.

No one has ever seen Raiden and Kung Lao turn a friendly competition into a serious one. Constant bickering and jabs at each other that turn to hisses from nasty remarks. You would only see this kind of tension from middle school boys or some cheesy teen movie from the 2000s. Ah but boys will be boys. Who can blame them?

You are the prettiest girl they’ve ever seen. Not just that but you are tough and always willing to learn more. That’s why you train with them so much. Well, it used to be training. Things have changed since you came around. Mostly their attitude and their closeness.

You knew Kung Lao was cocky and boastful, even for a Shaolin monk. The things he did in front of you made the other monks groan in frustration and caused Raiden to shake his head in disapproval. He was always calling for your attention.

“Hey! Hey! Look! I can spin as fast as a tornado!” “Check this out! I can beat up five guys at once!” “I bet Raiden can’t strike as fast as I can! What do you think?”

That was the usual stuff you would hear. Though comparing himself to Raiden was mostly common. He would put Raiden down the moment he had the chance. It would go beyond fighting and go into ridiculous stuff.

He can eat more than Raiden. He can jump higher than Raiden. He can stay up later than Raiden. Everything Raiden could do, Kung Lao could do better. He’ll prove it again right now.

Kung Lao ran up to you and Raiden, almost crashing right into him.

“Hey Raiden, how about another fight? Whoever loses has to pay the next time we visit Madame Bo’s.” Kung Lao was hoping he would say yes just so he could beat Raiden up.

“I can’t, Kung Lao. Can’t you see we are busy?”

“Oh I see. You’re afraid of losing again. Bet you’re afraid of embarrass yourself in front of her. Don’t worry, I get it.” He patted Raiden on the back before letting out a laugh like he successfully humiliated him.

“That’s not it,” he rolls his eyes before speaking, “I’m helping her with training right now. We can fight soon just let me finish up here.”

Raiden loved to help you and you were grateful for that. Though it always seemed like you needed adjusting when it came to your form or help when stretching. Even if you are a centimeter off he had to correct you. Guess he is a perfectionist. Or maybe he is sneaky.

Raiden came behind you and placed his hands on your waist. His foot tapped yours to make it move to the side more. You didn’t notice but he gave a light squeeze to your waist. He wished he could wrap his arms around you but now is not the time. Though it would upset Kung Lao a lot.

His hands traced up your arms till they were at your head. Your face was so soft he wanted to kiss it. But all he can do now is adjust it. Raiden glanced at Kung Lao and saw he was almost seething with rage. For once he decided to be a little cruel to his dear friend.

He went down till his face was inches away from your thigh. His hands grabbed at the tantalizing piece of flesh before him and turned it slightly. Now your form was perfect.

Kung Lao couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Though Raiden’s straw hat was concealing his eyes it could not conceal that smirk on his face. He knows exactly what he was doing. He’s just too good at hiding his devilish intentions behind a sweet, kissable face.

It seems that no matter how many time Kung Lao shows off, Raiden will always be the winner here. He’s the one who gets to touch you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You’re not dense you can feel that something is wrong. There is tension in the air and it only appears when Kung Lao and Raiden are in the same vicinity.

You have been keeping a close eye on their relationship. They have been drifting apart for some time now. Everyone can see that. What you didn’t get was why. You were missing the signs. You missed the glances Raiden would give to Kung Lao. You missed the fact that Kung Lao would only call for your attention, not anyone else’s.

You had to do something about this. It would be a shame if their friendship crumbled over something silly. Whatever that silly thing was.

Inviting them over to your place was a great start. Though they might be shocked when they see each other at your place. You might have left that out on purpose.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

“What the—what are you doing here, Raiden?”

“What am I doing here? I should be asking you the same thing, Kung Lao.”

They both stared at each other with mouths agape. They were confused as if the possible reason was outlandish. It’s not like there is a universal rule that you can only invite one person to your place.

“What are you two standing there for? Come inside, you’ll catch your deaths out there.” You called for them.

They didn’t even realize you opened the door. But now that they do they were racing to get it. Kung Lao pushed Raiden out of the way, leaving him with a disappointed expression.

Your place was well decorated and well kept. It’s only you living in this small house. That doesn’t make it any less of a home. Your house expresses you which the boys really like. They followed you closely but realize you were heading in the direction of your room. There was hesitation, especially from Raiden. Why not just stay in the living room? What gives?

You don’t have time for this stupidity. You grabbed their hands and dragged them into your room. They always imagined being in your room , of course that fantasy always involved you on the bed and the other one not being there. Clearly none of that good stuff will happen, right?

“Alright, sit down, I need to ask you guys something.” You plopped down on your bed.

The bed is off limits in their minds. The chairs? No. The bean bag? No. The floor? Probably a safe bet.

They sat in front of you, looking up at you like loving puppies waiting to be loved by their master. That’s not the first order of business tonight. Don’t be fooled by their eyes. There is still a wedge between them.

“Mind telling me what’s got you two so bothered. Don’t act like I haven’t noticed your strange behavior recently. I’m concerned about you guys.”

They can tell that you really care just by the tone of your voice. But a silence still hung in the air. Kung Lao nor Raiden wanted to speak the truth. It’s awkward, especially with your bro there. Kung Lao’s cockiness got to him though, reminding him of who he is. He shouldn’t be afraid so he’ll say it.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” He declared.

Well that was a shock. You know what else shocked you? Raiden.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” He said as well.

They glared at each other after saying that. They don’t even acknowledge the fact that you were sitting there with a confused expression. It’s not usual for two men to ask you out at the same time, in the same way. It was at least straight forward. You snapped your fingers at them to bring their attention back to you. Like the good boys they are they obey.

“How often does this happen? Going after the same girl?” You asked.

“Not as often as you think.” Raiden responded.

“We usually have different types.” Kung Lao chimed in.

This is weird. Somehow you were the connection between them when it came to types yet at the same time being the wedge between them.

“So…are you saying I should be flattered?”

“Aren’t you everybody’s type?” Kung Lao said it so innocently that it was smooth. He does good when he’s not trying too hard.

Think about this for yourself now. It’s no lie that you like them both. They have their own quirk that draws you in. You love Raiden’s kindness yet ability to be brutal while in battle. He works hard and is willing to guide others to try hard as well. Kung Lao’s cockiness can be annoying to others but it enriches you. It gives him confidence and the ability to think of new ideas. That razor-rimmed hat didn’t come out of thin air. There is so much you can say and love about them. But which one do you choose?

Alright, you have an idea. A weird one but it’s an idea.

“Come here.” You motioned for them to join you on your bed.

“Which one of us?” Kung Lao asked but Raiden was already up and running to your bed. Kung Lao got there just as quick as he did.

Nothing else was said from you. You only had actions. You leaned into Raiden first, bringing his head closer to yours. Your lips captured his in a passionate kiss. It was just like everything he imagined. Your lips were soft and had the slightest hint of vanilla that came from your favorite lip balm. He was practically melting in the palm of your hands as he wished this could last forever. But you pulled away, you have someone else to get to.

When you turned towards Kung Lao he has an upset expression on his face. It turned to shock the moment he felt your lips against his. That softness and the taste of vanilla enchanted him. He almost turned the passionate kiss into a whole make out session. That desperation to have you and touch you himself was building up for quite a while. He doesn’t want to hold himself back. But just like with Raiden you pulled away.

From the kisses you gave to them you came to the conclusion that you like them both equally. You don’t want to break either one of their hearts since it will break yours as well. So why not have both men. This can do good in bringing their friendship together again. It might even make it stronger. Yeah, this can work out. And you would have told them but they came to a similar conclusion as well. That will be discussed later.

For now you are more focused on their lips that are leaving kisses all over your neck. It makes your body heat rise up and causes a stir between your legs. Their hands are all over you. Kung Lao’s reaches for your neck to hold it still while Raiden’s reaches for your chest. You whimper at the sensation of their tongues lightly licking your skin. Kung Lao thinks it best to stay leaving hickeys on you. It will show everyone who you belong to. Raiden should do the same so that all know that you belong to them.

They lightly push you back against your bed. There is a hunger in their eyes. One that has built up for days. Raiden just can’t wait to hold you close as Kung Lao goes to town on you.

There is no shame is wanting this as well. Don’t hide that devious smirk from them. It will let them know to keep going.

You know what they say. Sharing is caring. And they care for you a lot.

After notes: If you’re gonna piss rainbows do it in the ditch I dug. If a skittle don’t fall out imma be disappointed. I have a sneaking suspicion that imma be asked of more from this. I didn’t want to push it beyond anything I’m sorry if you wanted more. Now I must finish eating before I mentally prepare myself for my class tonight. Adiós!