#“I want to prove to my wife and five kids that this isn’t just a hobby“

[heavensfinest]

I’ve been too spoiled by Ryan and Shane. Can’t watch a single other paranormal show without laughing at how theatrically serious it is

[swappermanent]

Laying the Foundation

Owning a general contracting firm isn’t the most exciting job in the world, but it does have its perks. And by perks, I mostly mean the eye candy. Whether it’s a sweaty crew under the summer sun or a client’s husband who catches my attention during a site visit, there’s enough visual appeal to keep my day interesting.

I’m glad I can admit that now. For the first 40-something years of my life, I refused to acknowledge the part of me that liked men. It wasn’t just denial—it was an ironclad, church-fed certainty that I was the straightest man alive. I had the life to prove it too: a wife, two great kids, and a job that kept me too busy to dwell on feelings I wasn’t ready to confront.

But five years ago, I couldn’t lie anymore—at least not to myself or my wife. The realization hit me like a freight train one afternoon as I was scrolling aimlessly through my phone, and it scared the hell out of me. I’ll spare you the gory details of how I came out to her; it was messy, emotional, and one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But if you knew her, you wouldn’t be surprised to hear how kind she was about it.

We got divorced. Not because she hated me—far from it—but because she deserved better. Someone who could love her fully, the way she’d loved me. She was understanding, even supportive, but understandably, she wanted a fresh start. She moved a few states away, which meant our boys, Elias and Remy, followed. They were in college by then, so it wasn’t like they needed me every day, but still—it stung not to see them as often.

Now, I only saw them on the breaks they got from school. Holidays, mostly. Elias was 22 and just starting to figure out his life, and Remy, at 19, was busy living his best college experience. They were good kids, and they didn’t resent me for coming out. At least, I didn’t think they did. But I could tell there were things they didn’t say, questions they didn’t ask. I tried not to push.

In the years since my divorce, I hadn’t exactly been a Casanova. You’d think that, as a newly single gay man, I’d dive headfirst into the wild world of dating apps and endless hookups. But it hadn’t played out that way. I didn’t know where to start, honestly. Bars felt too young for me, apps were overwhelming, and after decades of repressing this part of myself, I felt like I didn’t even know the rules.

And so, I stayed busy. Running my business. Keeping in touch with the boys. Pretending I wasn’t lonely. Pretending I wasn’t deeply, madly crushing on Tomas.

Tomas was one of my best guys—a foreman who had worked for me for almost six years. Early thirties, 6’1”, with the kind of lean, sculpted build that made work boots and a tool belt look like runway fashion. Tomas had short-cropped black hair, caramel skin that seemed to glow in the sun, and a confident swagger that made my heart skip a beat every time he walked past me.

He was also, without a doubt, the hottest man I’d ever laid eyes on. I wasn’t sure if it was his deep, musical laugh, the way his smile seemed to light up an entire room, or the sharp intelligence he brought to every project. Whatever it was, I was hooked. Hooked in a way that made my chest ache and my thoughts stray where they shouldn’t.

I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. I was his boss, for starters. And besides, for all I knew, he was straight and happily taken. But every time I saw him in the field, bending over to check a level or cracking a joke with the guys, I couldn’t help but fantasize. About what it would be like to pull him close, to feel his strength, to hear him say my name in a way that wasn’t professional.

I tried to keep my distance. Tried to focus on the work, on the business, on anything but the growing knot of desire that had taken up permanent residence in my chest. But Tomas was always there. Always just a few feet away, making me laugh, making me blush, making me feel things I hadn’t let myself feel in years.

I didn’t know what to do about it. Hell, I didn’t even know if there was anything to do about it. But one thing was for sure: I couldn’t take my mind off him.

---

The worst part about my unrequited crush on Tomas was the fact that I knew he was gay. I hadn’t guessed or pieced it together from subtle clues—no, I knew. I’d stumbled across his Grindr profile late one night while I was lying in bed, half-torturing myself by scrolling through profiles I had no intention of messaging.

Seeing his photo there had been like a punch to the gut. He looked incredible, of course—shirtless, smoldering, his chest lightly dusted with hair. I had stared at the profile for longer than I should have, memorizing the details: 33 years old, "masc4masc," and then the words that dashed any wild hopes I might have been clinging to: Please no guys over 30.

I closed the app immediately, my face burning with embarrassment even though no one else was there to see it. For days afterward, I kept replaying those words in my head. No guys over 30. Meanwhile, I was 50. Twenty years his senior, his boss, and, apparently, the exact opposite of what he was looking for.

After that, I resigned myself to suffering in silence. I’d accepted that my feelings for Tomas weren’t going anywhere and that I’d just have to live with it. It wasn’t like I could quit my job or fire him—he was too damn good at what he did, and I needed him on my team. So I kept my head down and my feelings buried, figuring that was the best I could do.

That is, until Miguel came along.

Miguel was the newest addition to the team, just 21 years old and fresh out of trade school. He was the youngest guy I’d ever hired, but he came with glowing recommendations, and within a week of working with him, it was clear they hadn’t been exaggerated. Miguel was a dynamo—hardworking, quick to learn, and always eager to take on more responsibility. He had an upbeat attitude that set him apart from the rest of the crew, and he never let the tougher, more grizzled guys intimidate him.

But while Miguel’s work ethic was impeccable, his looks were something else entirely. The kid was gorgeous. A fuckboy face if I’d ever seen one, with sharp cheekbones, thick lashes, a sexy dusting of a beard, and a jawline that could cut glass. His hair was a messy mop of jet-black curls, and his dark brown eyes sparkled with the kind of mischief that could make you question all your good decisions.

Even at his young age, Miguel had this natural charisma that drew people to him like moths to a flame. He wasn’t trying to be sexy—he just was. Whether it was the way he laughed or the easy confidence in his stride, you could tell he had everyone swooning at his feet. And that included Tomas.

I wasn’t blind. I saw the way Tomas’s eyes lingered on Miguel during lunch breaks or how he found excuses to talk to him on the job. At first, I thought it might just be professional—Tomas mentoring the new guy, making sure he felt welcome. But it didn’t take long to realize there was more to it than that. Tomas was interested in Miguel. You could see it in the way he stood just a little too close or laughed a little too hard at Miguel’s jokes.

The funny thing was, Miguel didn’t seem to notice his effect on everyone else. Despite his looks and charm, he had this air of innocence about him, like he didn’t quite realize the power he had. He worked hard, showed up early, and went home late, never sticking around for beers or banter with the guys. It was almost like he didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face.

Watching the dynamic between Tomas and Miguel unfold was like a slow kind of torture. On the one hand, I wanted Tomas to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me. On the other hand, the idea of him falling for someone so much younger, so effortlessly magnetic, made my stomach churn with jealousy. Not toward Miguel, exactly—he hadn’t done anything wrong—but at the reminder of what I couldn’t have.

---

A few months into Miguel working with us, I reached my breaking point. Watching Tomas flirt with him day after day, while Miguel remained blissfully unaware, was driving me insane. Tomas’s lingering glances, the playful shoulder taps, the overly friendly banter—it was everything I’d fantasized about, happening right in front of me, but directed at someone else. Someone younger. Someone who didn’t even notice.

Damn it. Why couldn’t that be me?

I had to do something. Anything. The jealousy was eating me alive, and the hopelessness of my situation was unbearable. So, in a moment of desperation, I decided to use something unconventional. Something I’d never planned to use at all.

A few years ago, I’d taken a trip to South America—a solo getaway to clear my head after the divorce. While exploring a small town nestled in the Andes, I’d stumbled upon an old shop filled with trinkets, charms, and artifacts that seemed plucked from legend. One item caught my eye: a smooth, jet-black stone about the size of a silver dollar, etched with intricate carvings that seemed to shift when you looked at them too long. The shopkeeper had insisted it was a swapping stone, a relic capable of exchanging bodies between two willing participants.

At the time, I’d bought it as a novelty. A conversation piece. But now, staring at it on my nightstand, an idea took root in my mind—an idea so reckless and audacious that I couldn’t believe I was considering it.

The next morning, I pulled Miguel aside during a coffee break. He looked surprised but didn’t question it, following me into my office.

“What’s up, boss?” he asked, plopping down into the chair opposite me with his usual relaxed energy.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “Miguel, I’ve been watching you these past few months, and I’ve got to say—you’ve been doing a hell of a job. The crew loves you, and you’ve been busting your ass out there.”

He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. “Thanks, but I’m just doing my part.”

I nodded, then leaned forward, clasping my hands on the desk. “Look, I know how hard this kind of work is. It’s physically demanding, and you’ve been carrying a lot of weight for someone so young. So I wanted to offer you something.”

His eyebrows raised. “Offer me what?”

I pulled the stone out of my desk drawer and set it between us. “A swap.”

Miguel tilted his head, his confusion evident. “A swap?”

“Yes. A swap. With me.” I gestured toward the stone. “This… is a bit of a long story, but let’s just say it’s not an ordinary rock. It has the power to let us trade places—temporarily, of course. I’d take your body, and you’d take mine.”

Miguel stared at me, silent for a long moment, before letting out a disbelieving laugh. “Boss, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m serious.” I pushed the stone closer to him. “Think about it. You’re out there every day breaking your back, while I’m in here taking calls and pushing paperwork. If we swap, you’d get to enjoy the perks of being the boss—shorter hours, no manual labor. You could take my car, my house, my money. Do whatever you want for a while.”

His ears perked up at that. “Whatever I want?”

I chuckled. “Whatever you want. Look, I may be in my fifties, but I’m still in good shape, and I’ve got the resources to make it worth your while. You could have some fun. Live it up.”

Miguel leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Okay, but what’s in it for you? Why would you want to swap with me?”

I hesitated, trying to come up with something that didn’t make me sound like a crazy old man. “Honestly? I’ve been in this business a long time, and I want to understand it better. Really get a feel for what it’s like to be on the ground again.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

“And…” I added, with a sheepish grin, “maybe I want to relive my youth a bit. See what it’s like to be in my twenties again. Humor an old man, will you?”

That got him. He burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Man, you’re something else.”

“So, what do you say?” I asked, my heart pounding.

Miguel studied the stone, his lips pressed into a thoughtful line. Then he looked back at me, a mischievous glint in his eye. “If you’re serious, boss, then yeah. Why not? Let’s do it.”

Little did he know, my motivations had nothing to do with reliving my youth or gaining a new perspective. My eyes were set firmly on Tomas,

We both stood in my office, the stone resting between us on the desk. Miguel seemed skeptical but game, his trademark grin lighting up his face. I couldn’t help but marvel at his confidence—effortless, natural, the kind that came with being young and having the world at your feet.

“So, what’s the magic phrase, boss?” he asked, clearly humoring me.

“It’s in Spanish,” I said, picking up the stone and holding it out to him. “I did get it in Chile, after all. We both have to hold it and say, ‘Quiero cambiar.’ It means, ‘I want to swap.’ Simple enough, right?”

Miguel gave me a look that was equal parts curiosity and amusement, then shrugged. “Alright, boss. Let’s see this thing work.”

He wrapped his calloused hand around one side of the stone, and I gripped the other. For a moment, I hesitated, wondering if this was really the right thing to do. But then I glanced at him, at the youthful energy in his face and the opportunity shimmering in his eyes, and I knew there was no turning back.

We spoke the words together: “Quiero cambiar.”

The moment the last syllable left my lips, I felt it. A strange warmth radiated from the stone, seeping into my palm and spreading up my arm like a current. My back arched involuntarily, and a sensation like liquid sunlight flooded my chest, pulling me out of myself. It wasn’t painful, but it was overwhelming—intense, euphoric, like every nerve in my body was alight.

Across from me, Miguel was going through the same thing. His head tilted back, his body trembling as the same warm glow overtook him. I could hear his sharp intake of breath, followed by a low, guttural moan. We both stumbled a step back, clutching at the air, though there wasn’t anything visible leaving our bodies—just the overwhelming sense of movement.

And then it stopped. Like flipping a switch, the warmth vanished, leaving me standing there, panting, in Miguel’s body.

The first thing I noticed was how much lighter I felt. My limbs moved easily, like I could leap ten feet in the air if I tried. My skin was smooth, my shoulders lean but sturdy. I raised a hand to my cheek, running my fingers along the softer, smoother surface, and then down to my abs—firm and defined, cobblestones under my touch. It was like my body had been built in a dream.

Miguel, now in my body, flexed one of my arms experimentally. “Damn, boss,” he said with a laugh, staring at my bicep, which was massive and veined from years of heavy lifting. “I don’t know if my body’s really any better than yours.”

He turned to the small mirror on the wall, lifting my shirt and giving my old body’s abs a quick once-over. “You’ve been holding out on me, man! If I looked like this at 50, I’d be showing it off all the time.”

I let out a nervous laugh, still getting used to the sound of Miguel’s voice coming out of my mouth. “Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” I said, my fingers grazing over my new, perfectly sculpted abs. “This feels like a serious upgrade.”

Miguel smirked, striking a mock pose and letting out a low whistle. “You’re not wrong. Your body’s hot as hell now. Don’t break too many hearts, alright?”

I grinned, I had quite the opposite in mind.

[lovecla]

OCEAN EYES | connor bedard

chapter one.

➴ warnings: swearing, underage drinking.

➴ word count: 3.2k

➴ author's note: omg this is my first time actually publishing something i wrote. the things i do for you, connor bedard. hope u like it <3

“SOMETHING tells me I shouldn’t be surprised to see you like this, but I still am.” You hear his voice before you can actually see him, which makes you wipe your tears fast and sigh loudly.

A girl can’t cry to her favorite Marvel movie anymore.

“You should try minding your own business. It’s super fun,” you say, putting the bowl of popcorn down and pausing the movie.

“Why would I even do that? Minding yours is way funnier.” Alex says, putting his luggage on the floor and sitting right beside you. You fight the urge to hug him tightly just because you don’t want to admit you’ve missed him a lot.

“What are you even doing here?”

He scoffs. “Last time I checked, this was my house.”

“You know what I mean,” you roll your eyes. “What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to be back in Illinois until tomorrow evening.”

“Well, after yesterday’s W, we thought it’d be great to be back earlier,” he grinned and you sighed, again. You knew what that meant.

Winning equals partying in Hockey world and usually, the party happened at Alex’s house since he had a big ass house, no wife, no parents, no kids. Just an eighteen year old sister living with him before moving to her own apartment.

Having a somewhat famous brother wasn’t exactly in your to-do list but here we are. After Alex joined the Blackhawks, everything went upside down in the best way possible. For him, you mean.

For you and my parents it meant going to every game, every party, every important dinner. And even though you’re not complaining at all, it was so much in such little time. So you’re still getting used to it.

But Alex won’t make it any easier. Every time they win and come back home, it’s a party. Your parents stopped showing up after the first one— they opened the door of the guest room (where they were staying) to find Donato fucking some random girl. It wasn’t exactly his best moment, you’ll give him that.

“What time does it start?” You ask, starting your movie again.

“Eight p.m. sharp. Bedsy will be here so you can be weird together or whatever y’all teenagers do.”

“You’re just five years older than me, dumbass. Just because you bought your own mansion at twenty-two, doesn’t mean that you’re that old.”

“Whatever. The point here is: y’all weird.”

As much as you’d like to prove him otherwise, he isn’t one hundred percent wrong.

You and Connor met two years ago, when he and Madi were still living in Sweden. Despite what everyone thinks, some NHL agents already had their eyes on Connor, so they’d casually invite him (and he always brought Madi with him) to games, including the games your brother would play.

You befriended his sister quickly because, hello, she’s just the best human being in the entire world (hopes Chloe doesn’t hear you) and suddenly, going to his games wasn’t that bad anymore.

One day, Madi couldn’t go to one of the games, so when you went to chat with her, you just found Connor, chilling by himself.

“Hum, hi?” You remember saying, very embarrassed and awkward. You weren’t afraid of him, you had spoken to him before and he is friendly, despite what everyone else seems to think. He’s just. Quiet.

“Hi, Ellie,” he answered, taking his eyes off the rink for once. His face was like always: expressionless. “Madi couldn’t make it today. I’m the only Bedard you’ll have today, I’m afraid.”

You laughed, because, what, had he just made a joke? Crazy. Then you sat on the seat beside him and made yourself comfortable, trying to find Alex in the sea of big, aggressive men.

That was kind of the beginning of your friendship. Just like that, you talked his ears off during the entire game, complaining more than speaking, really. You’re not much of a calm person when it comes to game watching. And whenever you thought he wasn’t listening, you’d stop talking, and then he’d look at you and say things like:

“So? Where’s the rest of the story? I’m interested in why you think The Incredible Hulk is the worst Marvel movie.”

And then, when he joined your brother’s team, you were more than happy. He and Mads got to be closer and you could hang out with her whenever school and her job let you.

“I don’t think we are weird. At all. We’re just not excited about partying every single day like you are.” You replied, trying to distract yourself from the fact that Natasha Romanoff had just died on screen.

It should have been that fucking Clint asshole. Fuck him.

“Every time I throw a party here, you both just stay on the couch talking and talking, not a single drink in y’all’s hands. I get that you can’t really drink yet but at your age I was getting shit faced whenever I had the chance.”

“That isn’t the brag you think it is but fine,” He flipped you off and you smiled. “Can I invite Chloe?”

“I mean, I invited fifty guys to our house, you might as well invite your annoying girlfriend as well.” He used that one tone he always used whenever he’s annoyed and it made you roll your eyes, again.

“She isn’t annoying.”

Even though it isn’t a lie, it felt like one. Ever since you started hanging out with the players of Alex’s team more, she started to act weird. And she’s kind of obsessed with Bedard. But then again, half of the hockey community is so.

No biggie.

“Whatever, loser,” he slapped your forehead and you hit him with the pillow you were resting your head on. “You stink.”

“You fucking stink. Go change into something that isn’t a suit, weirdo.”

“I will, but not because you asked me to. I was going to do that anyway.”

You smirked. “Of course you were.”

—

EVEN though you didn’t plan on staying up the entire night like your brother and some of his teammates— the majority of the guys your brother invited were still in his twenties like him, so they don't have big responsibilities like kids or wives or husbands—, you still dressed up a bit.

Thankfully this isn’t anything fancy, so you just put on a black, silky, maxi skirt, a corset-like tube top and low heels. Since you got lazy and ended up listening to music instead of getting ready, you had to put your hair in a slick bun because it was already eight and you still weren’t ready. So, slick bun it is.

Your phone rings and you pick it up, reading Chloe’s texts:

You sent a quick nice and put on some perfume. It’s not long until you hear a quick knock on my door, followed by a blonde mess that you like to call your best friend.

“Hi, oh my God, you look stunning.” You say as soon as you both make eye contact, because Chloe’s just so freaking beautiful.

“I know,” she replies, sitting on your bed. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Not really in the mood for partying though.”

“Are you kidding?” She slaps her knees with her hands, a smile on her face. “You have a house— no. Not a house. A mansion full of hot hockey players and you’re not in the mood for partying? What do you mean!”

You shrug. “You know I’ve never really cared about hockey. I don’t see the appeal, if I’m being honest.”

It’s true. Even before Alex made it to the NHL, you always thought hockey was just… alright. You don’t get why people get so excited to see some guys throwing a puck and skating. The fights are always fun to watch, though.

“You’re crazy,” she says, and you think she’s probably right. “Is Bedard coming?”

“I don’t really know. Maybe?” You replied, turning around and facing her. “Maybe yes. He’s on the team after all and he did score the last goal.”

“So. I need you to do something for me.” Chloe replied after a minute or two, and just by seeing the crazy look she has on her face, you knew that this isn't a really good thing.

You sigh. “What do you need?”

“I need you to introduce me to him.”

“Him?” You ask, confusion taking over your entire face.

She rolls her eyes. “Connor! I need you to introduce me to Connor!”

You don’t know why but her sentence makes your heart beat faster. You don’t like this feeling or her words either. But you just swallow your discomfort down and try to keep your expression neutral.

“Bedard? Why do you want that? You’ve never even acknowledged him in the past two years.”

“Well, I was waiting for him to make the move, but he’s so oblivious sometimes,” she says, sighing. “Honestly, I thought he liked you. You know, with how close you both are.”

You almost choke on your own spit. “Connor? Liking me?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but you can’t really blame me though. You’re all over each other and you even sit on his lap during movie nights.”

True. But also, not true.

“Well, I do that with all of my friends. I mean, I would do that if I had more friends. It’s not really my fault I just have you, Madi, Alex and Connor. I can sit on your lap if you want to—”

“Ew, not happening,” she fake-gags, making you laugh. “Anyway. Recently he said in an interview that he is single and not interested in anyone in particular. Soo, that’s my chance!”

You don’t know if you’re more weirded out with the fact that she watched one of his interviews or with the fact that she wants to be with him. And what makes you feel even weirder is the fact that you actually can picture them as a couple.

Chloe is your perfect WAG: blonde, rich, tall, good on cameras and gorgeous, even for an eighteen year old, fresh out of high school. She’s always at random, fancy parties because she says college isn’t for her, so she needs to find a rich, hot husband for herself.

You’ve never really said anything about that because you don’t think relying on a man to provide for you is the right decision. You want to get into college and continue to study so you can make your own name, and now that Alex’s known, you will need to work twice as hard to make sure you’re not getting anything just because you’re his sister.

But thinking about Chloe trying to make Connor her husband?

Yeah. It made you feel terrible.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that, Chloe…”

“Wait, what?” Something like anger flashed through her eyes. “You don’t think I have a chance with him? Why?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just—” God, why were you feeling like this? It’s just Connor. A guy you met two years ago. “Connor’s really closed. We’ve never talked about relationships. I don’t know how to approach him.”

The smile is back on her face. “That’s fine. You just have to tell him hi, this is my best friend, chloe. And I’ll do the rest.”

You had a bad feeling about this. And it probably showed in your face because Chloe was frowning, again.

“Ellie,” she said, slowly. “Do you like him? Is that why you don’t want to introduce us?”

You were the one frowning now. Liking Connor? Seeing him as anything more than a friend? No, what? Crazy. Chloe was nuts. You just didn’t want him to get hurt. That was all.

“What?! No. No, of course not!” You said, feeling hot. “Connor is just a friend. Like you.”

“So?” Chloe said, quietly. “You will introduce us, right?”

“Yes,” you replied, without hesitating this time. “Please, be nice to him.”

“Oh, I am going to be nice,” she smirks. “I don’t know about the things I’m planning on doing with him though.”

She laughed out loud and even though you didn’t find anything funny, you laughed too. Even if your heart felt like it weighed more than the whole moon.

—

FINDING Bedard wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

Even though your brother’s house was big, it felt crowded with people. Alex said it’d only be fifty guys or so, but he forgot that those fifty guys were bulky and big, so it would feel like his house had at least eighty people there.

The music wasn’t extremely loud, it was just a background noise, so everyone could hear each other just fine. And boy, were those hockey men loud.

Every time one of them recognised you, they’d just shout and raise their arms, with either beer or liquor in his hands. It took you and Chloe at least fifteen minutes to get to the kitchen, so Chloe could get a drink for her and you a diet soda. You hated the taste of alcohol.

“God, at this point we’re never finding him,” Chloe mumbled, sipping on her beer and making a disgusted face. “You need to tell your brother to buy some proper beer.”

You chuckled. Despite everything Alex said, he’d probably freak out if you asked for alcohol. “I could always call Bedard. If he’s here, he’ll show up.”

“Yeah, do that. I’ll go to the bathroom real quick, and I’ll be back.”

You nodded, grabbing your phone and searching for Connor’s number. You finger just a centimeter from the screen, your heart beating fast in your chest, and you wanted to punch yourself when you caught yourself thinking I hope he doesn’t answer.

“I’m the world’s worst best friend,” you mumbled to yourself, disappointed with your own stupid brain.

“That skirt looks good on you,” you heard Connor’s voice and you looked down fast, checking to see if you had actually called him. When you found your phone still on the contact list, you furrowed your brows. “Hi, El.”

You turned around just to see Connor standing there, with his awkward smile and blue eyes. His hair was a bit longer than you remembered but it looked even better than before. He looked good.

You smiled, all that tension from before gone in seconds. “Hi, Con. I was literally just about to call you.” You raised your phone, showing it to him.

“Yeah?” He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close. Hugging him was something that felt so precious because he never really did it with many people, and to think you’re one of the lucky ones? Yeah. Precious.

“Yeah,” you replied, hands around his middle, your height difference making the whole thing funnier. You stepped back, looking him in the eye. “I— I need to… hum. Introduce you to someone.”

He raised his brows, just slightly. His face going all-Bedard like again. “It isn’t a boyfriend, is it?”

“No?”

“That sounded more like a question than an affirmation. Are you seeing anyone?”

“What? No,” you laughed, amused with his answers. “No, I’m not. You and Madi would be the first to know if I were, I promise.”

“Then, who is it? Last time you said you had to introduce me to someone, I had to chat for forty minutes with an old lady who thought the Avengers were real.”

“Don’t call Susy old!” You threw your arms up, still laughing. “And that day was funny as fuck. Also, I see myself in her, so if you don’t like her, you probably don’t like me as well.”

“Bullshit. You know I like you.” He said, blue eyes looking everywhere else but your face.

Your heart did that backflip it always does whenever Bedard says something like that. You smiled.

“I like you too,” you whispered. “But I need you to meet someone.”

Just before Connor could ask who that someone was, Chloe re-entered the kitchen, slowing her steps when she noticed that Bedard was there.

“Great, you’re here,” you said, holding one of Chloe’s hands and pushing her closer. “This is who I wanted you to meet. Chloe, this is Connor Bedard. Con, this is my friend Chloe.”

Chloe reached out her hand to greet him. “Hi! I’m a huge fan. Congrats on your win!”

Connor greeted her back, but his gaze was fixed on your face. It was extremely awkward and uncomfortable, all the tension from earlier coming back. Something that you couldn’t really identify flashed through Connor’s eyes and it made you want to scream.

“Hi. Thank you.”

Connor’s dry words didn’t seem to surprise Chloe. “Do you want to drink something? I make the best Black and Tan in the entire world.” She smiles.

Connor looked at you and you bit your lip, your mouth opening to speak before your brain could stop it. “It’s true. She does.”

“Oh, are you drinking now?” He sounded… angry?

“No, of course not,” you scoffed, wishing you had kept your mouth shut. “But people like it a lot.”

“I can’t drink. We have to hit the gym tomorrow morning.”

Blue eyes looked at you again and honestly? You were ready to call it a night and go back to your room, because what the hell. Connor wasn’t usually this complicated.

“Oh,” Chloe sounded disappointed but then. “Then maybe we can grab some drinks together tomorrow evening?”

Damn, she doesn’t give up.

“Sure. But El doesn’t drink.” He replied, leaning against the kitchen counter, his biceps practically ripping the tight shirt. You reminded yourself to stop staring.

And then you proceeded to remember what he’d just said.

“Um. I’m not coming,” you were sure your lipstick was already gone with how much you were biting your lip so you switched to picking on the skin around your nails. “I… I have… well, I’m—”

“She has a date.”

You and Connor both looked at Chloe. Your eyes doubled in size and you had to fight the urge to punch her. What the hell was going on with you that night, you wondered.

“Do you?” Connor asked, and he was definitely angry now. His face wasn’t showing anything but his eyes told the entire story. They had a storm going on inside of them and he had the same look as he did when that one guy made his teeth bleed during one game.

“That sounded more like a question than an affirmation. Are you seeing anyone?”

“What? No,” you laughed, amused with his answers. “No, I’m not. You and Madi would be the first to know if I were, I promise.”

Fuck.

“Well. It’s nothing serious. Just— a guy?” It definitely sounded like a question. Lying wasn’t exactly your best trait.

“Yeah, a guy. So, she can’t come. Just you and me,” Chloe continued, grabbing another beer and sipping on it. “Can you pick me up at seven? I’ll text you my address.”

Truthfully, you didn’t know how Chloe had the balls to act like this, especially with someone who hasn’t shown interest in her at all. Maybe this is what being confident means? You thought to yourself, trying to right her wrongs once more.

Connor just nodded and left the kitchen without saying a word.

“That went well, huh?” Chloe said, looking happy with the situation.

You just hummed, not wanting to lie more than you already did that night.

God.

[my-illness-and-me]

Monday

I hear the doctor tell me that six months could be lived free or a few years could hurt. 

I don’t hear much of anything else on the way home.

Our babysitter asks what’s wrong when she sees us.

I tell her that she might not have to come in for a while and she tells me my son is sleeping. She hopes that everything is okay and I don’t tell her that it’s not.

At the dinner table, I tell my wife that maybe I’d like to leave after six more months living instead of a few years waiting to die.

She wants to say she understands, but she’ll always want longer.

Longer doesn’t always mean more time, I tell her, taking her hand, but not her eyes. 

Those are stolen by the little ones, standing in the middle of the room that he heard us order an empty chair for.

We were worried he might not understand it, but he did because he asks me not to leave at all. 

I tell him I don’t want to. It would never be my choice.

He says please.

Ever since he learned it, he’d said it like a magic word.

All kids do, I think.

They believe it could get them anything they could ever want and I start to wish that he could’ve believed in magic for a little while longer.

Tuesday

This morning I get mad at God before I ask for salvation. The sky never says a word and I wonder if he’s just like magic.

I ask online how many memories we have from when we were five before I ask if my son will be okay.

Someone tells me that the hole never fills, but life grows around it. 

How it was like that with her mother and I ask if that just means forgetting because I’m afraid of it.

I ask her if it’s ever hard to remember her mother’s voice and she doesn’t reply.

I wake up my son and ask if he wants to learn how to ride a bike.

Wednesday

My mom tells me that there’s an experimental treatment that’s had some success before my wife tells her we can’t afford it.

They get angry with each other instead of being scared.

My hands go numb and my chest caves in on itself.

I start to feel like a black hole.

I ask them if we can go on a walk before I swallow the living room.

My son comes with us and he asks if I can teach him how to ride his bike again.

I keep both hands on his side at first and I let go when I think he believes in himself, but he falls when he looks back.

I ask him what happened and he tells me that he thought my hands would always be there.

Thursday

The woman who lost her mother sends me a message.

She says that life growing is not the same as forgetting and she sends me a picture to prove it.

A little girl in the arms of a mother who lost her mother.

Her middle name is my mother’s first, she tells me.

I ask her if loss is only ever just a middle.

She thinks so.

I start to write letters for birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, graduations, and funerals.

The middle shouldn’t be longer than it has to be.

Friday

I have to tell the doctor by Monday how much time I have left.

It doesn’t feel like a question with more than one answer.

They both just mean not enough.

My wife tells me that whatever I decide, they’ll be there for me.

I don’t tell her that’s the part I’m scared about.

I call my mom and we start to talk about my son’s childhood like a eulogy

She tells me that she’ll be there to help him and his mother.

No matter what, she’ll be there for it.

I tell her that’s the part I’m scared about.

She comforts me like a mother does and I let her for longer then it takes to feel better. I want her to remember what it feels like to be a mother before she isn’t one anymore.

Saturday

The woman with a daughter sends me a message and asks how I’ve been doing.

I tell her that I’m afraid all I’ll leave behind is an empty chair.

She asks what about all the ones I’ve made full

A mother's, a wife’s, a son’s.

I tell her that’s the part I’m afraid about.

Her mother was too, she mentions. 

So every first Sunday of the month she visits her mother with her family.

She tells her about her granddaughter and all of the life that grew in the garden she’d planted.

They stay like that for a while until she’s sure her mother isn’t scared anymore.

I feel a little less scared when she says that.

Before I go, the woman tells me that she’s praying for me.

I let myself believe in magic for a little while.

Sunday

We’re all in the front yard watching my son learn how to ride a bike.

I tell my son before I let go this time and he tells me he’s scared to do it by himself.

My hands don’t have to be there to believe that they’re there, I tell him.

He nods and I let him gain speed before I let go.

He goes for longer than any of us thought he would before he falls.

We all run to him and I think to apologize for hurting him, but he smiles instead.

He asks if I saw how far he went.

I tell him yes.

Yes I did, I smile.

We stay like that for a while until he asks if he can go around again

We watch him for a little bit longer than the time it takes for me to decide how much time I have left.

[openheartfanfics]

Ethan x F!MC: Pure Fluff

One Shots Y-#

Yes To The Dress - @socalwriterbee   Tessa is having a ball trying on dress after dress while Ethan second guesses why he said yes to the shopping trip, until he is reminded why.

You - @perriewinklenerdie Claire and Harper go out for drinks.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” - @jamespotterthefirst Their first morning together. Set after the events of Ch. 15, Book 1.

You Are My Sun, My Moon & All My Stars - @mvalentine  Ethan Ramsey wants to take his girlfriend out on a date. Except he doesn't tell her the where, the what or the why.

You Look Very... - @cariantha   Sawyer shows up at Ethan’s place unannounced and neither is prepared for what they see when he opens the door. This takes place after Miami but before the opera.

You make me feel - @perriewinklenerdie Harper walks in on Ethan and Claire in a suggesting situation.

You Outshine the Morning Sun - @jamespotterthefirst She finds out she is pregnant. How will he react?

“You won’t take care of yourself so I will” - @jamespotterthefirst Lilac takes care of a sick Ethan.

You’re Always Beautiful - @ofmischiefandmedicine   It’s that time of the month, and Ethan is adamant to make things slightly more bearable for Laura.

You’re Always Beautiful - @potionsprefect   The further Victoria got into her pregnancy, the less desirable she felt.

“You’re my everything. I would give all this up for you.” - @genevievemd Set in the first week of Edenbrook’s reopening. Ethan’s gonna tell her.

You’re my new pillow. - @rookie-ramsey MC is sick, but Dr. Ramsey is an approved cure for the flu.

You’re The Devil - @alwaysmychoices   After rejecting her in Miami, Ethan is convinced that Charlie has forgotten their awkward exchange until she comes dressed as his worst nightmare -- and his only dream...

“You’re the only reason I’m coming back” - @jamespotterthefirst Ethan’s away at a conference and missing his wife and kids.

“You’ve finally rendered me speechless” - @jamespotterthefirst Their plan to go through their belongings and get rid of any unnecessary items before moving in proved to fail spectacularly.

Your Laugh - @jamespotterthefirst She can’t sleep as an old ghost resurfaces.

Your Midnights - @genevievemd 🎇 Two New Years, four years apart.

Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile - @writer-ish She couldn’t help but steal his shirt.

Z Toboyu - @ofmischiefandmedicine   During their drive to visit Laura’s mother, Ethan gets a taste of her culture.

Zuhause - @monsoonblooms12 When he sees her working after hours, he offers to drop her home. (set in Book 2)

2am - @starrystarrytrouble   2.9 Rewrite. Ethan and Eve work late on the Senator’s case.

3:00 AM Thoughts - @alina-yol-ramsey MC's thoughts about her relationship with Ethan.

5 Times Sadie Hinted at a Ring and 1 Time She Didn't - @peonyblossom A fic featuring five occasions where Sadie Oakley hinted at engagement rings.

6 first dates - @anntoldst0ries A story of 6 dates that changed everything.

20 Questions - @zealouscanonindeer Ⓜ Just a game of 20 questions (+1)

21 Nights - @starrystarrytrouble Moments from Ethan and MC’s new relationship over 3 weeks.

23. no dialogue, only body language - @writer-ish This takes place somewhere in Book 3 (no discernible timeframe, just a random day somewhere in the middle).

#27. “I didn’t ask you to do that”/ “You didn’t have to” - @jamespotterthefirst Ethan confronts Landry.

28 march - @honeyandsunfl0wers Alexa surprises Ethan with a present for his birthday.

40 - @tveitertotwrites It's Ethan's 40th birthday.

103 Degrees - @rookie-ramsey Even Ethan Ramsey isn’t immune to the flu.

_

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

[0averysillygoose0]

I can still make the whole place shimmer (with the skin of a killer, Bella)- Chapter five

Prologue and previous chapters are in my master list♡

Summary

Angelica Cullen was supposed to have died over 300 years ago, but now she gets to watch as her adoptive brother stalks some girl from Arizona.

Born in the 1600s to one Carlisle Cullen and his first wife- a woman whose name has since faded into obscurity, Angelica was never supposed to amount to much more than marriage and children. Now a perpetual sixteen-year-old who wants nothing more than to be able to paint her nails in peace to the Mama Mia soundtrack, she finds herself with little to occupy her time.

Her relationship with her family is growing more strained by the day. The cycle of high school has long since become dull and draining, and despite her desperation for something else, she's forced to stay stagnant for 'the good of the family'.

A family who's wearing her patience thin.

Then Bella Swan moves to Forks and Angelica's pressure is suddenly raised as the Cullen family is thrown into a potentially life-ending challenge every five business days. The Quillute are watching closely, as are the Volturi for any slip-ups, and in the world of the supernatural, Angelica has the grace of a baby deer.

♡ ♡ ♡

Chapter five A pretty girl in the woods? How very demure.

Edward had been gone for five days and Angelica should have been having the time of her life. He’d left in a hurry for Alaska, seeking refuge with the Denalis, after the “Bella incident” as it had been deemed and since then the entire household had been on high alert. A strict lockdown had been enforced on all members of the family until the boy returned and they could get to the bottom of what exactly about the Swan girl’s blood was so potent.

“I was around her for all of PE and I was fine.” Angelica had insisted when Carlisle had first told her of his decision. 

Edward had left only an hour earlier and Esme was already beside herself with worry. She was downstairs in the kitchen pacing back and forth. Alice had assured them that he wouldn’t be long, a week at most, but Angelica couldn’t care less. 

“You can’t prove that nothing would happen.” He’d shaken his head, leaning against her bedroom wall. “If any of our control isn’t as strong as Edward’s-”

“You don’t think I have better self control than a teenage boy? ” Angelica demanded incredulously. “Are you kidding me?” 

She sat stubbornly on her bed, wearing a faded mustard sweatshirt for a highschool that she could scarcely remember attending and a pair of worn blue pajama shorts. Irritation pricked her words and had blood still flowed through her veins, her face would have undoubtedly resembled a tomato in hue.

It was insulting, more than anything, the insinuation that her three hundred years of resistance was nothing compared to one girl, simply because Edward’s willpower had almost faltered. 

She was being trapped, or at least that’s what she felt was happening, confined to the house for a struggle that wasn’t her’s. Rationally, Angelica knew that she wasn’t alone in her imprisonment, that it wasn’t anything personal, that the whole family was isolating, but she felt resentment brewing in her stomach nonetheless. 

“Angelica, it’s not just you we need to consider.” Carlisle let out a sigh, rocking back and forth slightly on his heels.  “I want all of us to air on the side of caution.” 

“If it’s not me, then why do I have to be stuck here too?” She protested. Her voice was petering off into a childish whine and she was painfully aware that everyone else in the house could hear it. “Why can’t you just trust me-”  

“I do trust you.” He insisted.

His voice was steady and firm but Angelica refused to take his statement at face value. Carlisle always claimed to trust her fervently, and the words he used to assure her were always solid and earnest. But she wasn’t to hunt alone, she wasn’t to settle her own disagreements with her siblings and now she wasn’t to go to school because, despite successfully resisting her most basic instinct for over three hundred years, Edward couldn’t crack it and surely that meant she too was incapable.

She’s been on edge since she’d seen him in the parking lot. Something inside her, a voice that had started small but had grown wings, that insisted they were headed off the deep end. Her chest, that didn’t need to rise and fall in the first place, had felt tight for the past several hours.

“Then let me do this.” Angelica insisted, attempting to keep her words level. “I was around that girl for an hour and I was fine - I would’ve barely remembered her if it wasn’t for this whole clusterfuck.” She gestured around her vaguely.

Carlisle hesitated, opening his mouth only to shut it quickly once more. “I don’t want you there without someone to keep an eye on you.” He said finally. 

“Because you don’t trust me.” “No.” He said quickly, stepping forward. 

“Then why do I always need a chaperone like it’s still the 1800s?” Angelica demanded. She wanted to say more, but she knew that using examples of her limited allowances would only be met with rationalizations and explanations so set in stone and trodden out that she couldn’t maneuver an answer around them. 

“I can go places alone, Dad- I can handle it. Almost every other teenager goes to school without someone there to watch them, I’ll be fine.” She continued.

“No one is going anywhere until your brother returns.” Carlisle said firmly. “It’s not up for debate.”

Edward had told Carlisle he was leaving for Alaska. He hadn’t asked for permission, yet he’d been given it anyway. And in return, he didn’t owe anything , not a phone call, not a date or time or even an explanation, while Angelica had to beg to attend school and was denied.

“But we don’t know how long that will be.” She insisted.

“Alice said about a week at most, that’s hardly anything. “ He tilted his head to the side, studying her thoughtfully. “Esme told me you said that you were getting tired of school, sweetheart. This is a good opportunity to take a bit of a break.” He tried, a pursed smile tugging at his lips.

Angelica could feel a swell of panic rise up in her as she realized what was happening. This was surely the beginning of the end of their time in Forks. The incident from the hunt had been a mere precursor and Edward’s obsession with the new girl’s blood was taking the stage as the main event. Carlisle always did this, always tried to distract her with half baked positives. Her foot tapped against the wooden floor, drumming out a rhythm of nerves and worries. 

“Why  should my life be put on pause for him?”  Angelica demanded suddenly.

Carlisle sighed. 

“Because we’re a family and sometimes we need to put others’ needs above our own.” She could hear the irritation lacing his words. She wanted to just shut up and be fine, but she couldn’t.

“It’s always their needs though!” Angelica protested and she knew it had come out as a whine by the way her father’s face creased with frustration. 

He never yelled, or hit her. Carlisle’s anger, rare as it was, was a cold and calm thing that almost unsettled Angelica more than a regular outburst would have. Almost.

She could see the emotion building up in him, slowly and surely. A part of her wanted to push it further. 

“Angelica, we give up a lot for you as well.” He said quietly. “You and Edward had an argument, I drove you. You want to have human friends, we do our best to accommodate-“

“That’s a normal thing.” Angelica snapped. “Me having friends is a normal thing .  That shouldn’t be a sacrifice. I need friends- Everyone needs friends. Humans are social animals.“ Her voice kilted up and settled further back in her mouth as it slipped into what had once been her accent, as it often did when she was upset.

“We aren’t human.” Carlisle reminded her, and his voice was gentle once more, almost pitiful. 

“Our bodies changed, not our minds!” Angelica protested. “Why do you think we’ve collected all these people- we want a group! You have yours, why can’t I have mine?”

Carlisle frowned. “They’re yours as well, Angelica.”

“And I love them, but I need more.” She said, the words familiar on her tongue. “Please just let me go to school until Edward gets back.”

“Why do you need to be there so badly?” He asked and there was a foreign edge of suspicion to his voice. Carlisle lowered himself beside her on the bed and Angelica frowned.

“Because I know you’re going to drag us away soon.” She muttered. 

“I told you last night that isn’t what’s happening and that’s still the case. I’m just waiting for everything to settle down is all.”

“But it feels like you’re going to,” She insisted, “And if I feel like you’re going to and I’m here all day. It’s going to be in my head and it’s not going to leave.” 

Carlisle was a profoundly talented doctor when it came to bodies, perhaps the best in the world. His knowledge was vast and his skills were masterful. But the mind was another matter altogether. Being kind and considerate could only take you so far.

Angelica had tried to explain it before, the sudden pangs of fear and worry that held her down and lingered past their welcome, and he would nod sympathetically and tell her it would be fine. But it wasn’t fine, not really. It hadn’t been even when she was human. It was like there was something inside her, not a monster like Edward claimed, but a spiral that tightened around her.  

“You need to trust me.” He said. 

“But-”

“What you’re worried about is just in your head, that’s all.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

“I know it’s in my head, but it’s not going anywhere and I know it sounds dumb, but if I’m just stuck here wondering if we’re leaving or not, it’s not gonna leave.”

“I’ve told you what I can for now.” He murmured, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m sorry that you feel this way. But now I need you to follow through with what I’ve asked.”

“But I-”

“I’ve said no, and that’s what my answer will remain.” 

“You aren’t listening to me!” She snapped, throwing her hands up in frustration. 

“I’m trying, Angelica, but you don’t seem to want to listen either.” He said evenly. “You’re staying until Edward returns.”

Angelica glared out at the window.

“Whatever, forget it.” She said tightly.

Carlisle sighed and rose up from the bed, dusting off imaginary grime from his freshly pressed pants.

“I’ll be downstairs. I think Esme wants us to play a board game.”

Angelica didn’t respond. She didn’t leave her room for the rest of the night. When Carlisle returned a few hours later, he found her phone discarded on the floor  and her bed empty. 

***

Angelica sat in the forest, atop a rotting log. Behind her, lay a clear path of destruction, leading to the spot she’d finally stopped at. Battered tree branches lay in her wake. She wondered how long it would take for them to realize she’d left. She probably didn’t have more than an hour.

Morning haze poked through the sky, dampened by rain clouds. Not for the first time, Angelica wished she could properly cry. 

Tearless sobs wracked her body and she took gasping, unneeded breaths. She was so frustrated and tired she felt like she could explode. Her nails dug into wood below her, leaving crescent scars in the log.

She was sick of it all. Sick of Edward and his melodrama, sick of Carlisle treating her like a baby, and sick of the world for keeping her trapped in a cycle of the same issues for over a hundred years.

Moss, damp with rain, soaked into her leggings making them cling to her skin. Angelica kicked at a clump of dirt.

She’d wanted a boiling point with Carlisle, finally a conclusion for years of an unspoken issue she’d tried time and time again to vocalize. Instead, she’d allowed him the last word as usual and she was miserable for it. Her words hadn’t been right, she’d stumbled over them and had tied them messily together.

Why did I yell at him? She shook her head. 

Angelica’s rage had boiled away, leaving a pang of guilt and a nagging frustration directed at herself this time, not her family. She’d let her emotions get the better of her, again.  Angelica knew that raising her voice would get her nowhere. She couldn’t recall what specifically had set her off, whether it had been a particular phrase or if it had just been the accumulation of everything mashed together.  

She wanted to believe that was the problem, that it had just been her inability to speak her swirling thoughts into reality. But a bitter part of her couldn’t help but think that even had she been able to communicate with the smooth perfection she longed for, nothing would have changed.

She took a shuddery breath.

“Hey! Are you okay?” A voice called from behind. 

Angelica turned sharply, expecting Carlisle or Rosalie. In her haze of cluttered emotions and heaving breaths she’d failed to catch the sounds of twigs snapping underfoot or the crackle of underbrush being pushed aside. 

A girl stood behind her, palms raised up defensively. She had tan skin and long, shiny black hair. She smelled like vanilla body spray and her eyes were carved out with mascara. Her face darted through Angelica’s mind. She’d been there at the treaty meeting back in November. She was one of the Quileute. 

Angelica had never spoken to a member of the tribe before. At the gatherings they had to ensure the terms and conditions of their contract was being followed, she'd always stayed quiet and tucked in at Carlisle’s side, told that it was better if she didn’t run her big mouth for once. 

In truth, she didn’t know much about the treaty, just that they weren’t to trespass, and any interaction between the two parties would be best left to scheduled meetings. Carlisle had made it abundantly clear to her on multiple occasions that Angelica wasn’t to interact with the group without a family member present. He hadn’t given her a straight answer when she’d asked why just a mumbled string of blather about contracts and clauses.

As the girl took in Angelica’s face, her golden eyes and pale skin, a look of realization dawned on her.

“Oh.” She said, her voice tight. “It’s you.”

“Shit.” Angelica mumbled, jolting upward and the girl flinched. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was on,” She swallowed past the irritating  lump in her throat, “I was on your land,” She finished stiltedly. 

“You aren’t technically, just.. close.” She frowned.  

 The girl was lanky and dressed in a navy blue hoodie. She pulled the sweater sleeves over her knuckles. 

“I’m really sorry. I should go.”

“No, you’re… you’re fine.” She toed at the ground below with her converse. Her hands were tucked into her jean pockets. “Are you okay?”

The question took Angelica by surprise. She felt the weight of her hair shift off of her shoulder as she tilted her head to the side, confused.

“I didn’t know you guys could cry.” She continued.

“We can’t.” Angelica mumbled. She didn’t know if she should feel embarrassed. “Not really. No tears.”

“Oh.” 

“I’ll get going.”

“You don’t need to.” The girl frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk before. It’s Angelica, right?”

She nodded. 

“They make sure we know which one of you is which.” The girl supplied. She had chocolate brown eyes that crinkled at the edges as she peered out at the vampire. “I’m Hailee.”

“Angelica.” She replied automatically. “Wait no you already- yeah.” Angelica shook her head, her voice trailing off. 

“Yeah.” The other girl looked around.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She sighed. 

“You were ‘crying’ because you’re fine?” Hailee asked skeptically. 

Angelica frowned quizzically at the girl before her. Wind rustled the trees and the smell of rain hung heavily in the air. Above, swollen gray clouds were beginning to darken and the distant rumbles of thunder could be heard as they darted through the grove. 

“Why are you being so nice to me? You aren’t scared or anything?”

Hailee shrugged. “You seem fine from what I’ve heard. ” She hummed. “You’re friends with my cousin actually, Lillian?”

Angelica paused. In the stubborn waves of Hailie’s hair and the sharpness of her nose, she could make out glimpses of her friend. She was taller than Lilly, no doubt, leaner too. 

Pretty. The word flitted through her mind.

“Really?”

“Mhm. My dad wasn’t happy about it but obviously like he couldn’t tell her why.”

Angelica felt a weight fall off of her shoulders as she realized this girl knew and that no act on her part was necessary. 

“Lilly’s my favorite.” Angelica smiled sadly. “I’m gonna miss her when we leave.”

“Is that why you were crying? Are you guys leaving?”

“No, well… not yet? I don’t know.”

“Do you want to like… vent?” Hailie sat down beside her and Angelica could feel the warmth radiating from her body.

Carlisle’s warnings about the treaty reared their head and his words flashed through her mind. She felt a tug in her stomach, a satisfaction in ignoring him for once. Perhaps this could be a boiling point, a small one that was only for her, but a boiling point nonetheless. 

Angelica’s struggles from the past week began to pour out from her like a flooded fountain as she divulged in her worries and irritations, all while Hailee, who’d been a stranger only a mere five minutes ago, listened with rapt intent. She nodded along, chiming in with the ocassional comment, but for the most part, sat thoughtfully.

“I just feel like no one trusts me,” Angelica continued, halfway through a ramble about Edward's sudden vacation, “I’ve been fine for three hundred years but everyone acts like I’m six or something. ” 

"That sounds shitty.”

“It is shitty!” Angelica exclaimed. “But no one admits it is! And then like the stuff I can do never gets acknowledged. Like I can handle myself around people, but just because Edward couldn’t I’m also on lock down. And he didn’t ask to leave either, he just said he was going to and left but I’m not allowed anywhere without someone with me and even though I didn’t do anything I have to deal with the consequences of his choices. ”

“How is that like even remotely fair?”

“I know right? And you know what like for sure happened?” Angelica scoffed. “He saw a pretty girl and he didn’t know what to do because he’s a 107 year old virgin.”

“No shot that he’s 107 and still got his card.” Hailee scoffed. “I mean like, I always thought he was a bit off. I don’t know.”

“We’re all a ‘bit off’ .” Angelica muttered.

The other girl shrugged. “You seem fine honestly.” 

“I don’t feel fine.”

“I think you’re just feeling human emotions, girl.”

“Yeah, but I’m not supposed to be.” Angelica shook her head. 

She kicked at a stray twig, soggy and rotten. It fell apart with the impact. The thunder was drawing closer, and the clouds were growing thicker and darker by the minute. And yet, Angelica didn’t want to leave. 

“Why? Your brain didn’t change right?”

“That’s what I said!”

Hailee shrugged. She fished out a bag of pretzels from her pocket and held it out.

“Want one?”

“I can’t.”

“Oh.” She shook her head. “Yeah… ‘forgot.”

Angelica smiled sadly.

“It’s nice to talk to someone who knows.” She hummed. “It’s a lot of lying.”

“Yeah I hate lying to Lilly too if it helps.” 

Angelica nodded and for a moment there was silence. It filled the small grove and curled comfortingly around the two girls.

“So why are you here then?” Angelica asked finally. 

Hailee took a dutiful bite of a pretzel, and despite her mouth being closed as she chewed, Angelica could hear the snaps of the brittle treat being crushed up within the girl’s mouth.

 “Bored.” She said simply, shrugging. “My friend Leah is like one of the only girls on the res since my sisters left and she’s obsessed with her boyfriend right now so we barely hang out.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Oh, gross.” “Yeah.” She sighed. “I don’t know.” 

“You should hang out with me and Lilly sometime.” Angelica offered. “We have movie nights sometimes with our friend Anna.”

Hailee smiled and Angelica couldn’t help but notice that she had a small dimple beside her left eye. “I think she’d like that.” 

There was a sudden echoing cry as Angelica’s name was thrown out into the forest. Her stomach churned. In the distance, she could hear footsteps approaching, perhaps two minutes away. 

“Fuck.” Angelica sighed. “I should go.” She lowered her voice to a whisper as she jumped to her feet. “It was nice,” She paused, “Meeting you, I guess. Yeah.” 

“I’ll ask Lilly for your number?” “Sounds good.” Angelica looked out into the forest. “I’m gonna meet up with them. I don’t wanna get in more trouble for breaking ‘treaty rules’ or whatever.” Hailee nodded.  She pulled another pretzel out of her bag and with that, they were done.

The branches slapped uselessly against her skin as Angelica raced through the woods, a warmth rising up in her chest as she drew further away from her new friend. It had been so long, too long, since she’d last had someone listen to her so wholly.  It felt good. Just good. No need for synonyms or bells and whistles or clever analogies. Just good. She’d had talks with Lilly and Anna, of course, and there had been times where she’d allowed herself to divulge into fractions of her problems. But it was only ever that, a fraction. She told them what they’d been allowed to know, confining herself within the lines that had been drawn for her.

Angelica was pulled out of her stupor by the sudden force of running into what she’d first assumed was a boulder, the only thing she could think of that would be able to withstand the impact. She stumbled away, confused as to where the rock had come from. 

“Oh thank god.” Rosalie’s voice cried as she stepped out behind the stone, which, upon a second glance, didn’t look like a stone at all but rather a blonde vampiric doctor. Her sister rushed forward, only to come to a sudden stop, her brows furrowing together as her nostrils twitched. The blonde girl looked less put together than usual, her hair frizzed and thrown clumsily in a ponytail. She was wearing a t shirt that was clearly Emmett’s and a pair of flannel pajama pants.

“Where were you?” Carlisle demanded. His eyes flitted across her body, checking for scrapes and bruises she wasn’t even capable of obtaining. He took her right shoulder in an iron vice. The worry in his voice sent a flood of guilt darting through her, and she did her best to ignore it. It was easily suppressed with remembering why she’d felt the need to run off in the first place. 

“On a walk.” Angelica replied stiffly. 

“You stink like a dog.” Rosalie snapped. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously although Angelica was clueless as to what her sister was trying to uncover. 

A dog? 

Angelica rolled her eyes as her father tugged on her arm, pulling her back in the direction of the house. 

“What were you thinking?”  Carlisle pressed. “Everyone’s out looking for you- You can’t just run off whenever you like.”

“I just wanted to clear my mind.” She tried to shrug Carlisle off but his grip was unrelenting. “It felt better than just staying in my room- I just needed some alone time.”

“Well you better get used to ‘just staying in your room’ because that’s where you’ll be spending the next few days.” Carlisle said tightly. 

*** 

Angelica was curled up on her bed, rereading a worn copy of the Great Gatsby when she heard the creak of her door opening. Many of the lines were highlighted in sage green and scribbled annotations dotted the paragraphs. It was her sixth, and final day of isolation, and she was counting down the minutes until she would finally be able to return to class and rejoin civilization. Apparently the new girl Silver moonlight streamed in thinly through the cover of clouds.

Angelica didn’t look up as the familiar sound of Edward’s footsteps approached her.

“Alice said you’d be back today.” Angelica kept her eyes trained on her book. “Carlisle is down the hall, waiting for you.” She flipped a page monotonously. 

Edward frowned at her use of the doctor’s name. 

“Fun week?” He pried dryly and Angelica could feel something within her head, a twinge as he rifled through her thoughts. 

Nosy bastard. 

“Yeah, we were all grounded, it was a blast.” She scoffed.  

Edward rolled his eyes. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, you know.” He sighed.

“Excuse me?” “Esme texted me about it.” Edward shook his head. “You scared her. You can’t just run off like that.”

Angelica set her book down and the highlighter and pen she’d been annotating with slipped soundlessly onto the carpet. She gave a small twirl of her finger and the writing utensils swiftly returned to their spot beside her on the bed. 

“Can you pass me that dictionary?” She asked, pointing at the bookshelf above her desk.

“Why?” “I want to look up the definition of hypocrite, you ass.” 

“I had no choice..” Edward snapped defensively. “The bloodlust just overcame me.” He shook his head. “I had a reason to leave.” He said with such self-importance it made her want to gag. 

“Do you have a reason for being in my room?” Angelica scoffed. 

“I wanted to ask you to apologize to Carlisle for worrying him. I could hear him thinking about it from a mile away. He feels horrible.” “Dude, mind your own business.” 

“It’s hard to do that when you’re disrupting the business of everyone around you.” “I’m disrupting-” She shook her head in disbelief. “My brother in Christ, we had to all go on lockdown because of your little Alaskan vacation!”

Edward shook his head. “Forget it.” He scoffed. “Don’t expect me to drive you to school tomorrow.” 

Angelica bit her tongue, deciding that informing him that his ‘threat’ was actually a massive weight off of her shoulders would only drag out the conversation more. She was so caught up in trying to mask this thought that it took a moment for her to register the word “tomorrow”. 

“You’re going back?” She frowned. “What about your whole-” “Carlisle and Esme trust me.” 

Angelica’s eye twitched and she picked up her book again, waiting for his footsteps to draw further away from her. He took a moment, perhaps taken back by the lack of response before finally making his leave.

Don’t fucking touch her, Ed, because if we have to move early because of this, I’m gonna rip that fucking ‘monster within you’ out of your spine and use your vertebrae as a tooth brush.  Angelica allowed her defenses to fall as she flipped another page, not looking up. 

He frowned. 

“You need to be studied or something.” Edward muttered, shaking his head as he stepped into the doorway. 

♡ ♡ ♡

A/N

Hey guys, in this chapter we are introduced a member of the Quileute (albiet an oc) and I just wanted to take a moment to acknoweldge how innacurately Twilight originally potrayed this tribe. Not only does it twist their stories and culture to suit Stephanie Meyer's needs, but the wolves (and therefore the Quileute) are also often potrayed as wild and "lacking control" (ie what happens to Emily). These ideations are based on racist stereotypes and will not be included in this book (Jacob is still gonna be an asshate, but thats just him being him). I'm gonna link the Quileute website, below ran by the actual community if yall would like to learn more about the real people! While this fic will follow the twilight version of the quilute in terms of story, it will not include the depictions of S. Meyer that reflect some uneducated beliefs and any chapter including them will include a link to the Quileute website.

So glad to finally be introducing Hailee, my baby girl!! I loved writing Angelica for this chapter as well, it's fun to write her acting like a little shit (even if some of it is justified anger).

[gentrychild]

the au ask: uh, not sure how this works, but, let's say an au where the slime incident never happens?

Anon, no! I have about five AUs for that! You could at least tell me if you want it to be angst or crack!

More seriously, it's such a fun prompt because it avoids All Might telling Izuku he can't be a hero without a quirk, which is the start of so many vigilante/villain/quirkless Izukus.

But since I am a benevolent writer, I will not talk about the AU where Tsuyu and Mineta dies, then Iida, then Kota, then Mirio, Eri isn't saved, and so on.

Okay, it got really long so it's under a Read More.

All Might arrests the Slime villain before he gets in the sewers so neither Izuku nor Bakugou are attacked by him. The problem is that it also means that All Might never meets Izuku, never break his little heart, and Izuku never has the chance to prove his worth to All Might so no OFA.

Life goes on. Izuku still wants to become a hero. However, since his homeroom teacher told his entire class that he wanted to go to UA, his entire class, led by Bakugou, has decided to make his life a living hell over it. Constant taunting and people laughing at him.

It takes its toll on him.

He still doesn't doubt that a quirkless hero can exist but the more days, weeks, months pass, the more he keeps thinking of how easier it would be if he had a quirk.

A dangerous thought. One he usually doesn't allow himself to think because why whine about what is impossible to have? But one boy can only take "What a useless quirkless Deku like you do?" before he starts to get haunted by strange thoughts. Cough... urges... Cough.

It also makes him eager to prove himself. Maybe that's why he intervenes that evening when he sees a villain trying to hurt someone. Except that once the civilian he helped is running to call a hero, he is reminded that he is a smol child made of only skin and bones and that the guy in front of him is about to bash his head in.

He tries to protect himself, his hand grabbing the villain by the head and in this moment, as he is sure that he is about to be killed, he thinks the one selfish thought that he ever thought:

"It's unfair... that this quirk belongs to someone like you... instead of me."

And just like that, Izuku takes a quirk for the first time.

The villain runs in terror and Izuku runs (in the other direction) in confusion. Soon, it's pretty clear that he apparently had the ability to take and give quirks (thank you, Mom, who has volunteered to try the villain's quirk. Though it's strange how she keeps trying to call someone on her phone these days. But it's probably not important.) Which is a very cool quirk.

Izuku now has to pass from "No quirk at all" to "Can have whatever quirk he wants", which is quite dizzying.

He is so fired up for the UA exam, five months from then. Ridiculously happy bean.

Meanwhile, Mirio gets OFA because no successor showed the self sacrificial spirit that could have inspired All Might and both GT and Nighteye kinda pressures him into choosing a successor ASAP.

This has disastrous consequences as OFA is way too powerful for Mirio and starts to put an insane strain on his body. One month later, while fighting a villain (he has his hero license), he collapses on the side of the road, black lines all over his body as the quirk is killing him.

Izuku finds him and calls an ambulance ASAP but Mirio is is really bad shape. He asks him what happened and Mirio, half delirious, tells him that his quirk is killing him.

Izuku is very "????" but he can help! He can take the quirk away! But Lemillion would be quirkless! He can't take this decision! But Mirio can so he asks.

Mirio is half conscious. Completely in pain. He didn't even want that quirk. He likes Permeation. So, half delirious as he was, he might have mumbled something like "Take that thing out of me."

Izuku does, realizes that Mirio has two quirks so he leaves him the one that doesn't feel as heavy as a freaking dwarf star. Lemillion immediately starts to stop looking like he will drop dead any moment from now and the ambulance arrives, taking the hero student away.

Since Izuku doesn't have the All Might telling him that OFA is a good quirk, he acts like a sensible person: this quirk doesn't feel normal and it apparently kills its user. So he waits about 20 seconds before getting rid of it. He finds a nice and sturdy lizard, who, unbeknownst to everyone, becomes the 10th user of OFA.

The quirk comes back to Izuku.

Quirks aren't supposed to do that.

The freaking quirk is cursed. Izuku accepted a cursed quirk.

I cannot begin to describe how Izuku doesn't trust OFA in this AU. He doesn't use it. He intensively dislikes it. He tries everything and more to get rid of it but no matter what living organism he selects, the damn thing keeps coming back.

Meanwhile, Mirio wakes up from the hospital alive :) then remembers he gave a host-killing-quirk to a smol child. O.O

Panic ensues.

All Might realizes that whoever took OFA put his hand on Mirio's head, the same way AFO does. So it was probably AFO with a fun new shapeshifting quirk.

More panic ensues.

Meanwhile, AFO, alive indeed and who has been watching Mirio wastes away and enjoying the hell out of it (though he would have preferred it had happened one generation sooner) is furious that Yagi 2.0 isn't dying anymore because it means OFA passed to someone else! And since everyone in the OFAteam is quite panicked, they apparently lost the quirk he gave his little brother!

He gets so upset about it that he somehow misses the hundred of phonecalls from his wife.

So AFO and All Might alike are looking for someone with OFA but since Izuku just isn't using it, they aren't finding it.

Meanwhile, the Vestiges went from "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH, SOMEONE WITH AFO!!!! AHHHHHH!" to "What do you mean: You don't want to use us? We're not good enough for you???"

So OFA is doing the quirk equivalent of a cat purring and showing its belly so it can get some pet.

Izuku: "You know what? I know it's a trap but since I don't want to outright call a quirk evil, I will give you one chance to prove to me you're not a cursed power that wants my death."

Cue two broken legs.

Well, that's it. Izuku gave that nasty quirk the benefit of the doubt. He is never using it again. And since the damn thing is trying to contaminate his other quirks, he is vaulting it forever!

The irony is not lost on First.

The day of the entrance exam arrives and Izuku does quite well with his good, non cursed quirks, thank you very much.

And as he is leaving, he sees Lemillion! He is happy to see him in good health! He waves at him!

Meanwhile, Mirio spent the last five months trying to find that awful quirk he lost. He was half convinced he had given him to the Symbol of Evil and had trouble seeing the problem because if OFA would eat AFO, where was the problem? He is wondering if he condemned a kid to death. He Is Going Through A Lot.

He wants to say so many things, ask so many questions. And the one thing he manages to blurt out is "GET HIM!"

Tamaki and Nejire immediately shoulder slam a small child. They didn't even hesitate.

That's the story of how the Mighty team found OFA again.

Izuku loves hanging out with All Might but not even him can convince him that the quirk isn't cursed.

[ragingbookdragon]

Friends To Arranged Marriage To...Wait, How Many Kids?

Bruce Wayne x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Y'all ever write a self-indulgent Friends To Lovers fic? 'Cause that's what this is. Enjoy! -Thorne

It wasn’t unusual for her to suddenly appear in his office. She did it most days. Okay, it was more like every day but that’s not important. The fact is, she showed up and he wasn’t at all the least bit surprised when she barged through the office door and slammed it behind her.

“Morning,” he murmured, taking his eyes off the screen but a moment to lock them with hers.

“Good morning, Bruce,” she responded with a polite smile. “We need to talk.”

That wasn’t unusual either. When she came to the office it was because she wanted to either complain about something going on or because she was bored and didn’t have anything to do, so badgering her best friend seemed like the best option. It wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“What do we need to talk about?” Bruce questioned, clicking at the mouse until his screen loaded.

“Something important. Something especially important.” She replied and with one hand reached behind her and flipped the lock on his door.

Now that was unusual. And Bruce saw this going one of two ways and he hoped it wasn’t the first way that involved her pulling a gun.

“Okay,” he said and watched her out of the corner of his eye as waltzed around his desk and perched herself on the corner. “Am I in trouble, (Y/N)?”

“If you disagree with me, you will be,” she retorted and she started fumbling in her tote.

“You sound serious,” Bruce noted.

(Y/N) harrumphed. “I am quite possibly the most serious I’ve been in years.” She pulled out three manila folders and handed them to him, watching as he opened the first and started reading through it.

He didn’t say anything as he opened the others and read them but frowned when he set them aside and went back to his computer.

“I’ve already planned on a new secretary, (Y/N).”

She watched him with careful eyes and explained, “Those aren’t secretary files, Bruce. They’re marriage candidates.”

At that, his entire body went rigid and ever so slowly he drew his gaze from the screen back to her, staring her straight in the eyes.

“I…beg your pardon?” he asked as if not understanding what she’d just said.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and picked up the files. “Each of these women are successful elites from either Metropolis, Star, or Central City. You have arranged marriage meetings with them Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to decide which one you want to marry.”

This was happening way too fast, and he still didn’t know what “this” was.

“I’m not opposed to marriage, (Y/N), but why?”

She pointed to the picture on his desk, and he briefly glanced at it. Him, Dick, and Alfred on Christmas morning last year.

“Dick needs a mother.” She was never one to mince her words. “A father can raise a son, but the boy needs a mother’s love too, Bruce.”

“I think you’re a bit out of line here.” He remarked, brows pulling together. “We’re fine at the manor.”

“Bruce…please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not a soft man. You’re hard edges and firmness, and while that isn’t a bad thing, Dick needs a mother who can be the parent that isn’t firm. He needs a mother’s guiding hand.”

She handed him the files again. “I’ve met each of these women. They’re good women who will make wonderful wives and even better mothers.” She stared at him. “You should know how important it is for a boy to have a mother.”

Bruce was on his feet in an instant, in front of her, eyes narrowed into a glare as he bit out, “(Y/N), now you’re out of line.”

“Really?” she challenged, not at all threatened by his towering figure. “Look my in the eye and tell me which parent you miss more. Thomas…or Martha?”

“I miss both of my parents. Every day.”

“And I don’t doubt that. But I know you miss Martha the most. Isn’t she the one you promised to save Gotham for?” (Y/N) questioned and his mouth snapped shut, jaw clenching tightly as he averted his eyes because he knew she was right.

She reached out and rested a hand on his forearm, forcing his eyes to hers once more; her gaze softened and she murmured, “You miss your mother more than the world, Bruce. How do you think Dick feels every night when he goes to sleep? Fathers are the protectors for their children, but mothers are the comforters—there are going to be things that you can’t help him with, but a woman can.”

(Y/N) gazed at him and pulled her hand away. “At least go and meet them,” she requested and when he didn’t say anything, she sighed and picked up her tote, making her way to the door.

She flipped the lock and paused, glancing over her shoulder to say, “At least think about what I’ve said, Bruce. For Dick…and for you.” He met her eyes and she added, “I think getting married would be good for you too.”

He nodded, and since that was all they could hope for, she left the office and Bruce collapsed into his chair, turning around to stare out the window.

***

His theory that she would show up Friday evening proved true when she waltzed into his office and took a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, delicately crossing one of her legs over the other.

“How’d the interviews go?” she asked, not even bothering to ask him how his day was or how his week had been.

“My day was great, (Y/N), thanks for asking,” he mocked with a glare and she waved it off.

“Interviews, Bruce. How’d they go.”

He let out a sigh. “They went well. Each of them was polite and kind.”

“And?” (Y/N) gestured for him to continue.

“And nothing. That’s it.”

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously? You just met them for a singular purpose and all you’ve got it, they’re polite and kind?” She glared at him. “What’d you talk about?”

Bruce sighed again and reclined in his office chair. “Humanitarian works, college days, high society—you know, the usual.”

(Y/N) gave him an unamused look. “Did any ask for a second date?”

“All of them in fact.”

“Did you agree?”

“No.”

Her head lolled back, and she glared at the ceiling. “Did you even think about what I talked about a few days ago?”

“I still am.”

“Then why didn’t you agree to see one of them again?”

“Because there wasn’t anything we had in common.”

“Most people who have arranged marriages don’t, Bruce. That’s why you go on dates and get to know them.” Her eyes were still on the ceiling. “What’s the real reason you said no?” She always knew when he’d lied to her.

After a moment, he murmured, “…I didn’t think any of them would be suitable to be Dick’s adoptive mother.”

“I guess that’s…fair,” she agreed and they both fell silent.

A couple minutes later, he said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said though, (Y/N). About finding a wife who would be a good mother for Dick.”

“Uh huh.”

“I think you’re right. I do offer Dick everything a father could. Support, protection, guidance…but he is missing that love only a mother can give a son.”

“And how’s that making you feel?” she questioned softly.

His voice got quiet. “Like how I was when I was growing up without mother. (Y/N), I…I don’t want Dick to feel that way.”

At that, she drew her gaze from the ceiling to his eyes and she reasoned, “Then I think you should call one of the girls back and agree to a second date. You won’t find perfection in one day, even with how intuitive you are.”

Bruce shrugged. “I just want to find someone closer to Gotham. Someone who is familiar with us already.”

(Y/N) grunted. “I purposely moved away from Gotham because no one is.”

“That’s fair,” Bruce chuckled, and they fell into a silence again.

Suddenly, a thought flashed across her mind and she sat up. “Us.” She blurted out and he looked at her.

“What?”

(Y/N) gestured between them. “Us, Bruce. You and me.”

“I don’t follow,” he replied with a confused expression and she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” she griped, then she stood and planted her hands on his desk, leaning over to get in his face. “You and I are the closest to Gotham as you’ll get, and I’m familiar with you and Dick.” She smiled. “Marry me.”

She could count on one hand how many times she’d ever stunned her best friend silent and that was number two because his jaw went slack and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline, steel blue eyes wide.

(Y/N) frowned. “Oh, come on, you can’t tell me the thought didn’t cross your mind at least once.” Silence. “Oh my God, are you serious? You didn’t even think about it at all? Like ever?”

He shook his head, mouth still hanging open.

“Oh, for God’s sakes, close your mouth and wipe that stupid look off your face. It’s not a completely inconceivable idea, you moron.” (Y/N) held a hand up, counting off her fingers, “I’m of acceptable status, I dress well, I’m thoroughly educated, I do humanitarian work all over the world, I love your son, and I’m probably the one woman that doesn’t make you wanna stab yourself in the eye with a fork.”

She grinned at him. “You’re not going to find anyone better than me here in Gotham, Brucie-boy. Besides, I think (Y/N) Wayne has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Finally, he managed to make himself speak and he blurted out, “I stopped thinking like five minutes ago. I’m not even sure how to do that anymore.”

(Y/N) pulled a face and griped, “You’re an idiot.”

“I am not,” he retorted with a glare. “You can’t just propose to your best friend out of the blue and expect them to function like it’s normal!”

“You’re Batman,” she whispered. “Figure it out.” (Y/N) pointed at him. “There’s another plus on my side! I already know your deepest secrets! See, aren’t I a catch?”

“Was this your plan all along?” Bruce suddenly questioned and she gaped at him for a second before shaking her head.

“…No.”

“(Y/N),” he drawled, and she sighed.

“Alright, it crossed my mind a couple times but that’s why I started with the other women first. I was kinda hoping you’d pick one of them.” (Y/N) looked at him. “I really don’t see anything wrong with us getting married though. We’ve been friends since we were babies, we have a lot of the same interests, and we both care for Dick.”

She shrugged. “I mean we might not be in love, but our marriage doesn’t have to be. We’re stepping up for a greater good. For a young boy who deserves to have two parents.” (Y/N) reached out and held out her hand. “So? What do you say?”

Bruce gazed at her for a long time, longer than she was comfortable with because she knew he was mentally pulling her mind apart. After a few moments he stood and walked around the desk to stand in front of her.

She pulled her hand back in and gave a curious look. “Bruce?” His hands gently took hold of her cheeks and he leaned forward, even as her eyes went wide and she whispered, “Bruce, what—”

He softly brushed his lips against hers and (Y/N) all but melted against him, her hands pressed flat against his chest. They pulled away a moment later and he rested his forehead to hers.

“I think we can make it work, (Y/N).”

She couldn’t fight the giddy smile that came over her face. “Yeah?”

Bruce matched her smile. “Yeah.”

***

“So, you’re tellin’ me,” he started dubiously, looking at him. “That you and Ma only got together because you guys wanted to make sure Golden-boy had two parents instead of just you?”

Bruce didn’t even take his eyes off the screen as he responded absentmindedly, “That pretty much covers it.”

Jason threw his hands in the air. “There’s no way! There’s no way that shit was arranged! You two make googly eyes at one another when you think no one is watching and you kiss Ma before you go to work every day!” he looked at his brothers. “Y’all know what I’m sayin’ right?”

Tim nodded. “Jay’s got a point, dad. For an arranged marriage, the two of you are really in love.”

Dick placed a hand over his heart and smugly admitted, “You’re welcome everyone, for bringing mom and dad together in real love.”

A chorus of “Fuck you’s” echoed from Jason and Tim, and Damian placed his hands on his hips.

“When did you know you loved Umi, Father?”

Finally, he pulled his gaze from the Batcomputer, and even behind his cowl, they could see the love he had in his eyes and in his voice as he said, “Your mother and I dated for a year before we married, but the night of our wedding, we spent it at the manor and Dick crawled into our bed and spent the night wrapped in our arms.”

Bruce smiled. “I woke up early that morning and saw him curled in (Y/N)’s arms and all I could think was that I’d never loved a woman more than that moment then.” His eyes shifted to all of his sons. “And I’ve only fallen deeper in love with her with each of you that’s come into our home. You make us better parents every day and I wouldn’t change what I was given for anything in the world.”

He barely had time to breathe before all four of his sons were crashing into him, squeezing him as tears spilled down their cheeks.

Bruce huffed a quiet laugh and took a moment to brush a hand through each of his sons’ hair. “I love you, boys.”

A chorus of “I love you too’s” came back at him and before anyone could speak, they heard someone coo, “Aww, that’s so sweet!”

They spun around to see (Y/N) with her phone out, a mile-wide smile on her face, eyes shining with tears.

“Ma…what are you doing?” Jason questioned and she clicked something on her phone.

“Oh, nothing, my sweet boy,” she smiled, and all of her sons started pulling away from Bruce.

“Did you just record that?” Tim asked and she took a step back.

“I would never!” and she stared them down for a split second before spinning on her heel and hauling off towards the stairs. Her sons sprinted after her and she let out a squeal as she skipped the steps two at a time to get away from them.

“Ma come back here!” Jason shouted.

“Umi! Our dignity is on that phone!”

“I dunno, I think it’s sweet!”

“It’s not going to be sweet when she sends it to the group chat that every superhero is in, Dick! We have reputations!”

“Oh…that’s a good point, Tim. Mom! Come back here!”

(Y/N) gasped as someone’s arms wrapped around her waist and she came face to face with Bruce—well, Batman, and she yelped when he pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“Bruuuuuuce!” she whined. “Please don’t delete it!” (Y/N) reached for the phone and he held it out of reach. “Darling, my sweet darling, Bruce, please,” she plead. “If you love your wife and mother of your children, you won’t do that.”

His gaze darted to hers and she pouted, sticking her bottom lip out in the way that she knew he’d crack. “Please, my heart. Let me have a reminder of my beautiful boys.”

“You won’t send it to the chats?” he asked, and she crossed a finger over her heart.

“Cross my heart, darling.” He handed her back the phone and she smiled, leaning up to peck the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, Bruce.”

He cupped her cheek with his gloved hand, thumb brushing over her cheekbone and he pulled her into a real kiss, ignoring the exaggerated gags behind him.

“I love you,” he murmured as he pulled away from her lips. “More than you know.”

(Y/N) hummed, her eyes still closed, and she whispered, “You might love me more, but I love you most.” She opened her eyes and gazed at him. “All my boys.”

Suddenly, her phone started dinging like crazy and he stared at her, his Batman voice coming out as he surmised, “You sent it to the chat, didn’t you?”

She gave him an innocent smile and giggled, “I might’ve.”

“You’re going to pay for all the teasing that Hal and Barry are going to give me, (Y/N) Wayne,” he warned, and she scoffed.

“Oh, boo hoo, I’m so scared of what the big bad Bat is go—” a gasp escaped her when he hauled her up against his body and she stared at him with wide eyes.

A siren went off down in the cave and he looked towards the boys. “Go.” They all hurried off, complaining about the various texts they were all getting.

Bruce looked back at her, voice lowering as he growled, “After patrol I’m coming up to the bedroom and you’d better be ready, because I’m not going to stop ravishing you until you’re begging me for release.”

Something hot, tight, and fierce shot through (Y/N)’s gut and she could only flounder like a fish as he pulled her into another searing kiss before he spun on his heel and descended into the cave.

She gathered herself and called out after him, “You can’t just say something like that and then leave! That’s not fair, Bruce! Bruce, are you listening to me!”

Only his laughter echoed from below.

“Bruce!”

[starrysnowdrop]

FFXIVWrite 2022

#3: Temper

verb: to be or become tempered (as by a primal, eikon, eidolon, etc.)

After reading the fairytale of Cinderella to his daughter, G’raha is asked questions about love.

“…And they lived happily ever after. The End.” With the last sentence read, G’raha closed the tome and turned towards the tiny, raven haired girl sitting next to him on the sofa with the same crimson eyes as his with a gentle smile. “So, how did you like it?”

Hikari perked her ears up and her tail swished behind her happily. “I liked it! The prince and Cinderella got married, and and uhhh… the stepmother is still a poopy head!”

His daughter never seized to make him laugh with the way she phrased her thoughts, and at the ripe ole age of five, as kids were wont to do, she tended to have absolutely no filter from her brain to her mouth. G’raha chuckled as he replied, “The stepmother is indeed a poopy head.”

“Mm-hmm! Papa I have a question!”

“Yes, sweetling?”

“Did the prince really fall in love with Cinderella after only dancing with her one time?”

With a shrug of his shoulders, G’raha answered, “That’s just how the story goes.”

Hikari sat back as scrunched her forehead and folded her arms, clearly with a deep confusion over her countenance. “But… how?”

“Well, that’s what is called ‘love at first sight’. You only have to look at someone and you just… know that you are in love.”

“Hmmm…” G’raha knew that when the confusion had not left her face, more questions were soon to follow, as she was ever the curious child. “Papa, why did you love Mama?”

The redheaded miqo’te was taken aback. G’raha had already been bombarded by Hikari’s questions about love in the past, such as what love was, but he had never been asked ‘Why?’ before.

“I’m not sure I understand your question, darling.”

“Why Mama and not someone else?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious? Besides you, my precious light, your Mama is the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out.” With a beaming smile full of pride, he turned towards the kitchen where his wife and the mother of his child was; the white haired Auri woman was standing over the kitchen table chopping vegetables, in preparation for a stew. G’raha could see that out of the corner of his eye, Yume was smiling warmly, clearly overhearing the conversation.

“But but Papa! You have also said, you said that uhhh…” Hikari was straining to remember something, and when she finally found it in her mind, her little ivory scaled hand was raised in triumph, with one finger in the air. “That ‘Beauty’s eyes are’ umm, uhh, ‘on the bejeweler’!”

G’raha strained to not laugh at his daughter, which was proving to be quite difficult in the moment. “Do you mean, ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’?”

“Yeah that!”

“That I did, and it applies to Mama and I as well. When I beheld your mother for the first time, I was instantly drawn to her. My heart yearned for her, and I just somehow knew that she was the only one for me. And in the long years that we were apart, no one else could ever compare to her. And I’m thankful every day that she feels the same way for me. But it doesn’t mean that everyone feels that way towards Mama, or me. Just like not everyone enjoys the same stories, or eats the same kinds of food. Everyone is different.”

With a nod, Hikari took all the information in and quickly processed it. “Okay okay. Sooooo, you can’t fight against the feeling of loving Mama?”

“Not at all. In fact, I would never want to fight my feelings. I love being in love.”

Hikari suddenly gasped, her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, as she jumped off the sofa and began to bounce up and down. “Wait! I know what falling in love must be!”

“Oh?” G’raha smiled as he awaited her response, though he honestly was not prepared for what she was about to say.

“It sounds like tempering!” Hikari exclaimed as she threw both arms over her head, proudly declaring her discovery. “That’s it Papa! Mama must have tempered you! Like like a uhhhhh primal!”

“W-what?” G’raha’s ears and tail perked straight up. “Hikari, love not the same as tempering!”

Hikari dashed to the kitchen, and pointed accusingly at her mother, who stared back at her daughter with a smirk. “Mama! Are you a primal?!”

Yume returned to the chopping of vegetables as she smiled coyly. “I have no idea what you are talking about. I couldn’t possibly have tempered your Papa.”

“You can’t hide it from me! You’re a primal!”

G’raha just leaned back against the sofa cushions and laughed as he shook his head, speaking just loud enough for only himself to hear, “Well, if she’s a primal, then I pray that I’m never cured.”

[soulmate-game]

Not related to the other two Bio!mom Harley AUs that I did. Just... similar. I wrote this instead of sleeping, as per the usual.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I need your help.”

No accent, no threats of violence, no beating around the bush (figurative or otherwise). No fighting or unconscious bodies.

Just Harley Quinn with her hair down, no makeup, and completely serious, in the center of the Bat Cave. Even though her usual exaggerated Brooklynn accent (circa 1950s) had become a pretty inseparable part of her personality over the years, every now and then she forcibly stuffed it down and used her mostly unaccented voice. The one reminiscent of days with less colors on her face, a high bun, and a pristine white lab coat.

Every single one of the Bats and Birds present, fresh from an interrupted patrol thanks to her, could count the number of times they had seen Harley like this on one hand. Bruce would have the most recollections, but everyone else would have plenty of fingers left on said hand. So they all knew, especially when Bruce willingly pulled down his cowl so he could look Harley in the eye, that this was the start of something they were not likely to forget. And maybe their chances of survival were slim too.

“Harley,” Bruce’s voice was still gruff, seeing as he was still mostly Batman at the moment, but his eyes were soft. “Maybe you should tell us what you need help with first. And sit down. You look exhausted.”

Sure enough, there were dark circles under Harley’s eyes. She let Bruce-man lead her over to one of their debriefing tables and sit her down. She let out a huge sigh, her fingers tangling in her loose blond locks.

“I have a confession, and it isn’t gonna leave this cave, capiche?” The slight return of her accent relieved a little of the tension, but not much. Taking this as their cue, the rest of the bats spread out into their usual seats at the table. Bruce stayed near Harley, keeping a hand on her shoulder in silent support. Harley didn’t continue talking until he gave her a solemn nod in agreement. She gulped— an action that immediately returned the tension.

“... fifteen years ago, back when I was still with Joker, I disappeared off the Gotham scene for a few months. I’m sure a few of you remember,” she looked up, and a couple of the older vigilantes nodded. Really, Jason has still been Robin back then. But the memory stuck out in his head now that he was thinking about it.

“Yeah, you were breaking away from him a little bit, which was weird at the time,” Red Hood mused aloud, arms crossed. “I think you helped us out a couple times and did some of your first team ups with Ivy before you vanished. Then a few months go by and you were back in action with Joker, so we mostly ignored it as you just being you.”

Harley nodded. “Ah, my Ivy’s a lifesaver, even back then. She helped cover up the timeline by keeping me in action for longer than I should’a been without putting me at too much risk.”

“Timeline…” Red Robin spoke up, eyes huge even behind his mask. “You don’t mean—“

“Harley,” Bruce breathed, having also caught on. “You were pregnant?”

The air went still. Harley sniffed, eyes watering even as she smiled.

“Oh yeah. Shouldn’t have been possible, ya know? Me ‘n Joker being dumped in that damn acid should have made us both more sterile than an operatin’ room. But I knew I couldn’t raise a kid, so after she was born—“

“You kept her?” Damian interrupted, earning a gentle cuff over the head from Dick. Harley just snorted.

“Yeah. Not gonna lie, I thought about abortion. But the baby didn’t do nothin’ wrong, and I was still in love with Joker back then so I was ecstatic that I was able to make something new with part ‘a him in it. Still, I knew a baby didn’t deserve to be raised in Gotham. Especially not my baby, not with my enemies and history. Not with who her father was. I knew he’d never want her, never let me keep her. So I spent the last five months of my pregnancy lookin’ around for the best possible family to take her in. And I found them in Paris, France. A sweet couple, both of them bakers. Sabine, she’s both adorably sweet and super kickass. Comes from a Chinese family that is crazy about teachin’ their women martial arts. But nothing shady about it, I triple checked. Just bonding through kicking people in the face. Which is perfect, I wanted my baby to know how to defend herself. I knew she’d need those skills eventually. And Tom, that’s Sabine’s wife, he’s a gentle giant. Same size as Bane, but as harmless as a puppy and makes the best croissants ever. Seriously, the best.”

“Harley,” Bruce gently prodded, but there was a tiny grin on his face. Seeing her behaving so… so normally, so proud and reminiscent, was a rare treat. Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of how far the woman had come. How she had freed herself and become a better person, mostly on her own.

“Right, right. The point,” Harley took a breath, rubbing her forehead. “I came clean to Tom and Sabine, but apparently they knew who I was the whole time. They just didn’t care— did I mention they are perfect? Anyway, once I explained everything, they agreed immediately to adopting my baby. They’d been wanting kids, but it would’a been too risky for Sabine’s health. That’s how I found them anyway, they were in the market to adopt. We named her Marinette. She took Tom and Sabine’s last names, hyphenated. We decided Quinn would be her middle name. And after that, I came back to Gotham and told myself that she was in good hands and I needed to forget about her. Cuz I was no good for her. I knew that. I went back to my old tricks. And then…” Harley chuckled, but it was self-depreciating.

“Then a few years passed, and I started breaking away from Joker for real. Then we broke up, I blew up Ace Chemicals while you guys were outta town doing Justice League and Young Justice shit. I started dating Ivy. And—“ she smiled softly at the table, clearly seeing something the rest of them couldn’t. “Then Ivy convinced me to go see her. Visit my baby, see how she’s been. And I did. Marinette was seven years old, but damn it to hell she was gorgeous. And say whatever you want about me and Joker— most of it will even be true— but neither of us are stupid. And she inherited all of our intelligence. All of it. She got my blue eyes. But she got his hair, which meant Sabine teased me relentlessly about ‘are you sure she isn’t that Wayne’s kid?’ And don’t make that face Bruce, you’d be lucky to have a kid half as beautiful as my Mari-pie. No offense, Damian. Anyway. Anyway, this is the important part. Or part of it.

“She sat there and listened to everything I had to say. Everything. A little seven year old, who could barely understand English at the time, and she listened without interrupting once. She never threw a fit, she wasn’t angry or confused. I told her about the things I’d done in the past— well, G rated versions— and she didn’t care. She called me Momma Harley right away, said she wanted to meet Aunt Ivy sometime soon, and started telling me everything about her that I’d missed. From that day on, she became my sunshine. The light of my life, and I still call her at least once a week every week. When I disappear for a few days out of the city? I’m visiting her—“

“You’re banned from international travel, Harley,” Dick scolded, but he sounded way too amused for it to work. He knew she had her ways, anyway. Nobody could actually stop Harley damn Quinn from doing whatever she wanted.

“—Ugh, she tells me the same thing every time! Disappointed glare and everything. I don’t know how I gave birth to such a goodie goodie, but somehow I did. Not important though! The important thing is, I’m always the first to hear when something new happens in her life. And we had decided that she wouldn’t visit me in Gotham until she was at least eighteen, but apparently she disobeyed me— which I should have expected honestly— and entered you guys’ WE international scholastic competition.”

“Oh no,” Bruce pinched the bridge of her nose. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng? The contest winner?” He finally pulled out a chair and sat down. “The winner gets an all-expense paid trip to Gotham for them and their whole class.”

“Exactly!” Harley threw up her hands. “Mari told me last week, and I’ve been trying to talk her out of coming ever since. But she’s inherited both of our stubbornness too, and she isn’t budgin’ a bit. ‘Momma Harley, I wanna see you and Auntie Ivy though!’ And ‘Momma, Gotham’s nothing I can’t handle,’ or my favorite, ‘Maybe you’ll finally get to see me dropkick someone three times my size then, and I’ll prove it.’”

“So that’s what you meant by you need our help,” Tim said as he leaned forward over the table. “Joker just broke out of Arkham yesterday. You want us to protect her.”

“I’d prefer if one of you was with her outside of the mask too, as often as possible,” Harley confirmed. “I can’t stop her from coming here anymore, but I also don’t trust Joker for a second. As soon as he sees her, I’m afraid he’ll make the connection.”

“She looks like him?” Damian asked, scrunching up his nose at the ugly mental image of Joker as a teenage girl. Harley shook her head, solemn.

“She looks like a dark-haired mini-me,” she corrected. “She even keeps her hair in pigtails as her way of showing support for me. And I know Marinette can kick ass, Sabine’s trained her well. But Marinette inherited more than I’d like from me,” Harley ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t notice it until she was thirteen. She got a crush on a classmate, and it was almost like watching videos of me back during the early days of— well, of Harley Quinn. Just without the crime and insanity. She didn’t even realize that she was almost stalking the poor kid until I pointed it out, and luckily I was able to put my doctorate to good use and we nipped that right in the bud ASAP. She never meant it that way, anyway. As soon as I explained things to her, she was horrified and immediately asked me to help her learn how to have a healthy relationship. That was a fun discussion,” Harley grimaced. “But she still gets attached to people really, really easily. Once she grew out of her crush on that boy, she adopted him as her unofficial brother. She already calls Selina “Auntie,” even though I’ve barely mentioned her to Marinette. She gets attached fast, and deeply. And I’m afraid that even after all the warning I’ve done, all the stories I’ve told her—“

“You’re afraid she’ll get attached to Joker just like you did,” Bruce finished for her, closing his eyes. “Because she knows he’s her father.”

“Yes,” Tears were slowly dripping down her face already, her hands curled into fists so tightly that her knuckles were paper white. “You know how he is. If he finds out she’s his biological daughter, he’ll immediately try to take advantage of that. And he’s far too good with his words for people like me and Mari. I’m worried outta my mind. Please. Help keep my baby safe from him.”

“We will,” Jason no longer had his helmet on, or the domino mask that he usually wore underneath it. All of them knew masks were merely formality with Harley nowadays. And he needed to look her directly in the eye so she could see how serious he was. “I can sign up as a bodyguard for the class. It won’t be weird, seeing as they’re tourists and this is Gotham. They also have several rich kids in their group if I remember right.”

Bruce nodded, agreeing with Jason. “That’s a good idea. I can lead the class on their tours of WE personally. That’ll serve the purpose of keeping an eye on her and shutting up the investors that keep begging me to make more public appearances for the sake of the company. Marinette’s name is already released to the news as the winner of the contest, so we can’t keep her out of the spotlight long. Tim, you’ll have to keep an eye on any and all pictures of the class. Try to erase or doctor the images with her in it well enough that connections between her and Harley can’t be easily made. Dick, you and Damian will be in charge of keeping an eye out for any activity from Joker. The slightest hint, and you notify all of us. We’ll decide on a case-by-case basis who is necessary to stick with the class and who goes after the clown.”

“She’s gonna sneak out of her hotel to stay with me and Ivy,” Harley admitted, bringing the (now slightly judgemental) attention back to her. She raised her hands up in surrender. “She didn’t tell me that, and I didn’t approve or suggest it! I just know my baby too well to not realize that that’s her plan. Could ya provide an escort?”

Bruce sighed. “This is gonna be an eventful month.”

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (PT.I) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN : PART ONE 

Summary:  Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, slight angst, f!reader x dad! Iwaizumi 

A/N: There will be 2 or 3 parts of this oneshot! Depending on how long I feel like writing. Thanks for checking it out and stopping by! Let’s dive into some Iwa moments :,)

NEXT PART --> 

---

“What’s your return policy on rings?” 

The saleswoman smiles sympathetically behind the counter. That stupid sympathetic smile he’s been getting for weeks on end now. And it never stops; with his co-workers, with his family, his friends...

Iwaizumi’s sick of it. He’s sick of having to prove that he’s doing just fine, thank you very much. When in truth, his heart is constantly being torn apart and stomped upon as is people have nothing better to do than torture him in their free time. 

“I’m sorry, but these rings have been brought more than three years ago, and our warrant only lasts for three years,” the saleswoman keeps on talking but it doesn’t matter, for Iwaizumi can already feel the anger slowly creep up through the back of his neck, can already feel the vibrating emotions clogging up his sense of judgement. 

His fists clench at his sides upon impulse, the physical pain of his nails driving into his palms enough to remind him to stay cordial. It’s not the woman’s fault, the better part of him chants, it’s not her fault at all. 

“Fine,” he manages to grovel out, barely, “thanks anyway.” 

He all but storms out of the shop while shoving the rectangular box back in his pant pocket, and though it’s been more than four months since his ugly divorce with the woman he’d hoped to share the rest of his life with, the weight of their promise hangs heavy and hot upon his thigh. 

The thing is, Iwaizumi is mad. He is seething. If one were to give him a bat, he’d probably destroy the entire town by himself. Not because she was the one that cheated, not because she was the one going behind his back numerous times a week to seek out her lover when he’d been basically driven mad between Hoisuke’s cries and the stress of call meetings scheduled back to back. 

No, he’s angry. Because how the fuck could she do this to Hoisuke? How can she break the child’s heart like that, so ruthlessly, without even thinking twice about the consequences? 

Because if there is a victim in all this, then it’s definitely Hoisuke. And not only that, Hoisuke understands that his mother has been acting strange, that she doesn’t return at regular times and that her hugs now smell of cigarette smoke with a bittertaste of alcohol. 

Iwaizumi is so caught up in anger that he almost blunders past his battered Hyundai, red and chipping away at the corners. Still, this car holds so many memories, the good and the bad ones. 

“Can’t you get a newer car? I thought your company could sponsor you,” the ghost of his wife’s voice echoes through his head, a blatant reminder of all the things she’d found wrong in his life.

“Why?” he’d tilted his head around to fix his gaze on her figure bending over the sink. The TV was playing in the background and he thanked the gods that the morning comics were taking up Hoisuke’s attention, enough to distract him from his parents’ quibbles. 

“It’s just--so old and tacky.” 

“It still works well, doesn’t it? Why change it now?” 

She’d paused, hesitated slightly before blundering on, “It’s embarrassing. My colleagues keep asking if we're poor or something."

"Who cares what your colleagues think?"

Fuck her, Iwaizumi mentally swears as he turns on the ignition. Fuck her and all her needs for a better life. As if the life they had wasn't more than enough. Pulling out into the street to join the incoming traffic, he blinks away the sudden tears accumulating at the corner of his eyes and swears once more, this time aloud, glad that Hoisuke isn't in his presence when he gets in such a foul mood.

Iwaixumi may be angry. He may be filled with pent-up rage from the memory still attached to the day he'd discovered a used condom in their bathroom trash. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

That doesn't mean he does not still cry into his pillow over it every night.

----

"Please don't forget to do your homework for tomorrow! We'll correct them before moving on to the next chapter," you call out to your students as excited chatter fills the air. Students rise from their seats, some calling you bye and waving as they all file out of the classroom and you can't help the small smile lingering over your lips even though your feet are killing you.

Outside, parents have already lined up to collect their kids, the chatter and bustle of people ebbing away down the corridor as you let out a soft sigh.

"Miss?"

You jolt, not realizing that one of your students stands by the table wringing his hands, "what's wrong Hoisuke? Dad's not here yet?"

He shakes his head, watery eyes blinking up at you as he raises his thumb to his lips. You stand quickly and motion him to come close until he's within reach before your hand smoothes over the back of his head, "it's okay. He's probably stuck in traffic. I'll wait with you."

It's not surprising that parents get tardy once in a while and you're all too accustomed to those slight change in plans. Thankfully, you manage to distract the young boy with some coloured crayons and a piece of paper while you dial for his father's number.

It keeps ringing. No one picks up.

You try once more, one more time after that. But still, nothing. It shifts to voicemail. You decide it's better than nothing, "hi Iwaizumi-san. This is Y/N, Hoisuke's teacher. I was just wondering what time you would be picking up Hoisuke? Please call me as soon as possible. Thank you."

You end the call only to spot Hoisuke's eyes on you, intent and impatient for you to explain, "it's okay," you tell him with a smile, "he'll be here soon. Don't worry. Do you want to keep colouring some more?"

Hoisuke nods, to which your smile widens. It's those special moments, where your shyest students express themselves, that your chest warms with sympathy and affection. You've been there, you know how it feels like not to be heard, and you appreciate every interaction they offer you.

Being a primary school teacher is tough, especially since it wasn't in your original plans. But the satisfaction of bringing up some of the world's future leaders cancelled out all the late nights correcting tests and scrambled weekends trying to finish off as many worksheets as you possibly could for the coming week. You can’t complain, not when you have a decent salary that keeps bread on the table and a roof over your head.

A tug on your sleeve brings you back to Hoisuke looking up at you, a scribbled drawing of what seems to be of him and his dad. You feel yourself chuckling at how he's drawn both their hair in brown spikes, erratically extravagant and yet so close to reality.

"That's really good, Hoisuke!" You beam down at him, "what do you and your dad do on weekends?"

He shrugs shyly, head averted to the side so that there's no need for eye contact. And in the shyest voice he can muster up, he says:

"Daddy brings me...to see Mama," Hoisuke's words are barely above a mumble, "they live in different houses. They can't live together anymore."

Uneasiness squeeses in your stomach, followed by sympathy for this soft-hearted boy. You had overheard some of your colleagues giggling about Hoisuke's dad being attractive and single -- a combo that teachers adore -- but that doesn't mean that the weight of his words don't lay heavy on your own conscience.

"Do you miss your Mama a lot?" You ask him softly. Unconsciously, your hand finds a way to smooth over his head.

The boy doesn't pull away. Instead, he nods, "sometimes. But it is better this way. Daddy smiles more now. And there's no one to shout and make noise."

"Are you happy, Hoisuke? With your dad?"

He nods and to your amazement grins, "daddy is funny. He tells me not to swear but when he burns the food he always swears. And then he says to shush and tells me to close my ears. He also makes me pancakes every Saturday morning before I go see Mama."

Right on cue, a figure bursts through the open classroom door and both your heads snap to see a drenched, older version of Hoisuke who looks like he just finished running a marathon.

"I'm--" he wheezes, causing you to stand in alarm and concern, "I'm sorry I'm--so late--"

"Daddy, you forgot me again!" Comes Hoisuke's statement as you ask Iwaizumi if he's okay. He shakes off your worry with a flick of his hand and a shake of his head, "I'm fine. Sorry-- there's a nasty rain outside--"

"It's okay," you reassure him as Hoisuke practically barrels into his father and almosy knocks him off his feet.

"Sorry Hoisuke," you watch Iwaizumi's hardened features soften ever so slightly as he ruffles his son's hair. Then, looking back up at you as you bring over Hoisuke's backpack, he says, "thank you. For looking after him."

"It's no problem, honestly. We had fun didn't we?" You grin down at your student and are delighted to find Hoisuke grinning back up at you, albeit shyly, "I put his homework in his diary. He'll need to complete it for tomorrow so that he doesn't fall behind in class."

His father nods, "alright. Thanks."

"Daddy, your hair looks atrocious," Hoisuke says, tugging onto his shirt.

"Atrocious huh?" Iwazumi's eyebrow rise, "someone was listening in their English class today."

"Atrocious means that it looks bad. Daddy, your hair looks bad."

"Thanks buddy, I knew that. Now say bye to Miss Y/N."

"Bye bye, miss Y/N," Hoisuke says, wriggling his short arm through the air as you wave back with a giggle. His father nods at you in silent thanks, makes a move to walk out of the class, only to swivel back to you just as you're collecting your bag.

"Uhm," he clears his throat, causing you to jump slightly, "yes?" You blink back at him and try hard not to stare at the way his white shirt clings to his toned chest, translucent from the rain.

"Do you need a ride?"

-----

You've known Iwaizumi since high school. Having graduated just two years later than he did, his reputation had preceded him throughout the school halls even though you'd never actually had any face to face interaction with the said man. Iwaizumi doesn't know this of course and you are adamant about keeping it a secret. But that plan seems to be unraveling before your very eyes the moment your small talk turns towards your academic history.

"You're from Aoba Johsai?" His surprised glance doesn't escape your notice, especially since that's the most reaction you've gotten out of him.

"Yeah," your eyes stay glued to the row of cars crawling through the motorway, "I remember you went there too, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"You were Aoba's ace volleyball player. Everyone knew who you were."

His silence answers you and for a moment, you fear that you might have offended him. Not that it's something to be offended about.

Before you try to scratch your brain for some kind of response -- any response -- Hoisuke pipes up from the back seat, "Daddy was famous back when he was in high school. He hit the ball like kapow! And jumped so high he can touch the sky."

"Oh? Have you seen him on camera?" You turn slightly, a small smile dangling off your lips at how adorably amazed and excited Hoisuke seems to be.

"Yeah! His spikes are so awesome! It goes pow! And it zooms! Like a cannon ball!"

You burst out laughing, "yes, your father was amazing whenever he was on the court. Every girl in our class had a crush on him."

"What's a crush?"

"Hmm, you know when you really like someone. You like like them, you want to be together with them. Like, girlfriend and boyfriend."

"Oh," Hoisuke draws out, "did you really like daddy too?"

"Yeah I did."

"What?" Iwaizumi almost chokes on his own spit at the same time traffic eases and you're glad for the distraction, for you're certain there's a scattering of colour upon your cheeks.

"Do you really like him now?" Hoisuke persists, undoubtly untouched by the embarrassment taking over his father's features and you swear that more than ever, you want to laugh at how flustered Iwaizumi looks.

You decide to play nice though and instead turn to wink at your student, "that's a secret for me to keep."

You don't have to look twice to know that the man beside you is bursting into hot flames.

-----

"Did you really like Mama before you started living separately?"

Iwaizumi swears that he's never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Not when he's had to state that he was divorced, not when he had to sign divorce papers half drunk off his ass. Not even when he'd raged after his said ex-wife after finding a tie that wasn't his own in his laundry pile.

Now is probably a good definition of what uncomfortable means.

"You're not gonna let me off the hook are you?" He steals a glance at Hoisuke from over his shoulder while stirring the vegetable curry, "yes, I really liked your mother."

"Did she?"

The word 'yes' almost slips past his mouth. Except, he isn't sure whether that's the truth and decides to shoot back with, "have you finished your homework, Hoisuke? You know it's due tomorrow. Miss Y/N said so."

"Do you really like miss Y/N?"

"What?" Iwaizumi frowns, "well--no. Not like that."

"Why?" His son whines, "I really really like Miss Y/N. She's nice to me and she never shouts. And she bakes good cookies!"

"How'd you know that?" Iwaizumi leans over to taste a bit of the sauce. Not bad, he thinks and mentally pats himself on the back. A few weeks ago, he would've probably burnt the entire house down.

"Because she bakes them every month. Every time we finish a test."

"That's nice of her."

"Yes," there's a pause as the man fishes out a bowl in which to serve the curry, "daddy, what do you do when you really like someone? Do you marry them like you and Mama did?"

"Uh--yeah. Sure."

"Then does that mean I need to marry Miss Y/N if I really like her?"

"Yup."

"Daddy!"

Iwaizumi bursts out laughing. Turning off the stovetop and bringing the bowl over to the dining table, he reaches out to ruffle his son's hair with a grin, "you're the one who has a crush on miss Y/N."

"She's too old for me Daddy," grumbles Hoisuke while scooping out two rice bowls as the pair sit down for dinner, "but she'll be good for you."

"Not that simple, buddy," Iwaizumi says as he dumps two spoonfuls of curry into his son's bowl, before doing the same with his own, "there's a difference between like and love."

A frown falls over his son's face, so like his own that Iwaizumi can't help but chuckle, "what is the difference?"

"Well, when you really like someone, you might want to get to know them better. Or play with them andd shit--stuff like that. When you love someone, it's..." he hesitates, "it's different."

"Why?"

There goes that innocent question that punctures his chesy a little too deeply. The brown-haired man steadies his gaze upon the calendar fixed on the wall opposite him as he answers with:

"When you love someone, you want to live with them. You want to start a family with them. Their happiness," his brown orbs switch back to his son's focused attention, "their happiness is all that matters."

Maybe it's the fact that he's not used to speaking so truthfully about such things. Maybe it's just Hoisuke who suddenly realizes the layers hidden beneath his father's poker-faced exterior. But for a moment, neither of them speak, as if bewitched by a silencing spell if broken by the scraping of cutlery against porcelain.

"Did you love mama?"

Hoisuke's voice is small, fragile. So fragile that Iwaizumi pauses just as his spoon reaches his mouth, glancing over at his boy. His beautiful boy.

"Yeah."

Another short pause. "Did she love me?"

"Of course she did," Iwaizumi's face softens. To be honest, Hoisuke hadn't showed any kind of restraint during the entire divorce procedure, had merely accepted things as they had unfolded before his very eyes. But sometimes, Iwaizumi fears his son might be keeping more from him than he lets on.

He ressembles his mother a lot in that sense.

"Then," wet coffee-coloured eyes blink up at him, lips trembling with a hoarse whisper, "why'd she leave?"

Before his father can say anything, the young boy bursts into tears.

Iwaizumi rushes over, clasping Hoisuke in his embrace as the child buries his face into his neck and cries and cries and cries. His little heart beats like wild horses and with every sob echoing through hid body, Iwaizumi feels his own heart break over and over again. One of his hands rub comforting circles of Hoisuke's back, while the other smoothes over the back of his head as he murmurs soft nothings in hopes that it will calm down the young child.

"I want--" Hoisuke's voice is thick with tears, "I want Mama--"

"Shh, hey it's okay," Iwaizumi murmurs out, "s'alright kiddo. I got you."

Hoisuke falls asleep eventually, the soft sniffles dying out into even breaths as he slumps against his father’s shoulder, probably tired out from his earlier emotions. Iwaizumi takes this as his chance to tuck the boy into bed, glad that he’d listened to the small subconscious in his head telling him that Hoisuke would be falling asleep sooner rather than latter. 

As he smoothes over his son’s hair, a part of him wonders how much Hoisuke is still silently hurting from his mother’s departure. He can’t imagine it; suddenly changing lives like you’ve merely changed your bed sheets and Iwaizumi had been so caught up in his own heartbreak, in his own bout of silent rage, that he’d forgotten that along the way, Hoisuke was also a victim to their endless fighting, the cold war that had broken his family apart. 

He wishes he can take the pain away, ease it somehow. But it’s not that simple. The truth is, no one can actually predict how a heart gets broken, nor when it does. The only evidence are the repurcussions. And it’s only now that Iwaizumi gets to see it truly take its form. 

Leaning over to press a soft kiss to Hoisuke’s forehead, Iwaizumi murmurs his silent goodnight before walking out and gently closing the bedroom door behind him. 

He leans onto the hard wooden surface and rubs his eyes. It is only upon pulling them away that he takes notice of the family photograph hanging on the opposite wall, frozen smiles wrapped up in lies.

He really needs to take that down.

-----

[mandoalorian]

Honeymoon [Din Djarin x F!Reader] - **SMUT**

Summary: You’ve been saving your credits for months in order to treat your husband to the surprise honeymoon you both deserve. He’s a little on edge though, despite the luscious, tropical environment he’s surrounded by. So, as his wife, you do everything in your means to get him to relax.

Warnings: unprotected p in v, riding, cockwarming, orgasm denial, cunningless, cum eating, spanking, anal fingering, breeding kink, slight sub!Din if you squint. 18+ only.

Word count: 2600+

Reblogs appreciated. 💙

Beyond The Sea Masterlist

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

Marrying Din Djarin was the best decision of your life. 

Standing dead centre in the middle of your hotel suite, your husband had never looked so out of place. The yon orange sunlight seeped through the crack in the voile curtains, and a warm, summer breeze waved gently through your hair. You could tell, even through his beskar Mandalorian helmet, that your husband was completely stricken by the beauty of the great outdoors. Your view from outside the hotel suite was a novelty, for sure. The beach’s water circled around the hotel and pooled outside into a tranquil, turquoise coloured ocean. A distance from your window, but not too far, was a growing jungle of vines and trees, habited by various reptilian animals that were distinct to the planet of Scarif. You couldn’t wait to meet them all.

You’d saved up credits, and it had taken almost a year, but finally— finally, you could afford this. A sanctuary. A small vacation. Something you could call your honeymoon. It was long overdue.

Din had warned you when you married him that a honeymoon wasn’t on the cards. It just wasn’t plausible. He was a bounty hunter and he worked every damn day, risking his life just so he could bring back enough credits to put food on the table for you and Grogu. A holiday of any sorts was out of the question.

But you’d been saving up in secret, and if he’d ever found out about your planned endeavour — well, he’d never approve. Good job he’d managed to keep out of your way when you bought the tickets for the five star hotel suite. What proved to be even more of a challenge, was persuading Din to take you to the remote and tropical island planet of Scarif. 

You left the kid with Peli Motto on Tatooine, much to Din’s disdain. You’d spoken to Greef and broken a deal with him in secret; that the guild master was not allowed to provide Din with any bounties prior to the week you were due to go away. Everything rolled out perfectly, just as planned.

For the first time in a long time, your clan of three was living a stress free life, void of any anxieties related to Din and his profession. You loved him with your mind, body and soul, and accepted him for who he was. But part of you, a small part of your heart, hoped that one day, maybe he’d give up bounty hunting for good. He was getting older now. You’d occasionally pick out the greying hairs in his stubble, and the crinkles in the corners of his starry brown eyes were becoming increasingly more prominent. There was a beautiful galaxy out there, and he’d only seen the bad parts. The parts that were rampant with crime and death. You hoped that this honeymoon trip to Scarif would show him the true beauty of the world -- and everything he was missing out on.

He couldn’t bounty hunt forever. One of these days, he was going to have to settle down.

“I can’t believe you did this,” Din announced, picking up some complimentary hotel chocolates that had been left on his pillow. He pulled off his mustard coloured gloves and began to fiddle with the red foil wrapper. “All of this. I can’t believe you did all of this without me knowing.”

“I was afraid you’d be mad at me.” you mumbled, subconsciously rocking backwards and forwards on your heels. Din couldn’t even begin to imagine how much this trip had cost you, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the exact figure. 

“I am mad at you.” He retorted, but you could sense the air of amusement in his voice. Din Djarin was an esteemed bounty hunter, the best in the Guild. He prided himself in being the best too. He was always one step ahead of everyone, always knowing what was about to come before others even knew themselves. Apparently though, his skill was lost on you. Part of him though, was proud. A pretty big part of him, to be exact.

He was chuffed to be able to call you his wife. He didn’t believe the day would ever come. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you pondered out loud, looking around the hotel suite. “Did you see those big colourful birds as we walked in? They were enormous. We should check out the gift shop and buy a disposable camera. I know Grogu would love to see the photos when we get back.”

Din tilted his helmet in acknowledgement of your comment, but opted to stay silent, his eyes fixated on you and only you. Yeah, he was sure Scarif was a beautiful planet (there was no doubt in his mind), but not even all the colourful birds or glistening waters in the whole galaxy could ever compare to the beauty of you. Your eyes snapped back towards Din when he didn’t respond, and you felt your mouth part as a knowing sigh escaped your lips.

“Tell me you don’t…” you closed your eyes, already mentally preparing yourself for his answer. “...Tell me you don’t have hunting mode initiated under that tin can helmet of yours.”

You knew that, under his black tinted visor, he was always in hunting mode. He had to ensure your safety one way or another. When he turned off hunting mode, everything was normal and in colour (despite this one glitch of pixels he had to get fixed). But when he was in hunting mode, his vision was a dull chiaroscuro. 

“We don’t know how safe this planet is,” Din declared, his voice stern as he tried to reason with you. “We just arrived and I’ve never been here before. I haven’t even done a recce.”

You extended your arm and shushed him. “You haven’t been here before because no bounty or crime syndicate ever comes to Scarif. Since the battle between the Rebellion and the Empire, it’s been under full surveillance by the New Republic. There is security on every corner.”

“That doesn’t exactly work well in my favour.” Din muttered, although deep down he knew you were right.

“Do you really think I would’ve taken you somewhere that wasn’t safe for either of us? I’ve been planning this honeymoon for months, Din. Please, trust me.”

It hurt, seeing your husband like this. After bounty hunting his whole life, he was so… on edge. He always struggled to relax. You thought a tropical vacation might’ve just done the trick but maybe he needed more.

“Okay, you’re right. I trust you.” Din sighed in admittance, and you cracked one of your sweetest smiles at his revelation. It was enough to ease Din, even just temporarily.

“It’s too late to do anything now,” you said, biting your lip as you peeked behind the curtains and watched the sunset. “We can just stay in the hotel room and order room service, if you’d like.”

Din nodded, following your direction. He didn’t know the first thing about vacationing. But if one thing intrigued him, it was the luxurious king sized bed that stood before him. It was dressed in ivory satin sheets and silk pillow cases, and it was certainly nothing like the plank of steel you’d both lay on, back in the Crest. No, this was a real bed. You’d caught him staring at it and couldn’t help but smile at the smirk that played on your lips.

“Take off your helmet.” You requested.

“I--,” Din hesitated. “Someone could walk in and see me.”

“The door is locked. We have privacy,” you assured him. Din fumbled around some more. His heart stopped when you planted both your hands on his shoulders and searched for his eyes beneath the visor. “Trust me.” you reminded him with a plea of desperation.

He nodded and slowly began to lift off his helmet. And there, he revealed himself. Your husband. Though you’d seen his face many times now, you’d still always get an out-of-body experience, watching him take it off. Like it was some kind of sin.

“I love you so much,” Din’s unmodulated voice announced, and his brown eyes bored into your beauty. You smiled, feeling a wave of heat wash over your cheeks as you leaned your head into his chest. You slowly began to undress his plates of beskar armour, dropping them to the ground as you discarded them into a pile on the floor. “Such a pretty girl,” he cooed, and you shuddered, feeling his warm breath fan over the shell of your ear. “My pretty girl. All mine.”

“All yours,” you confirmed, dropping the final plate of beskar to the floor. “You need to relax, my love.”

“That word is foreign to me.” Din told you, smoothing out your hair before dropping his large hands down to your hips.

“So let me help you.”

You guided Din over to the bed he’d been eyeing up all night and helped him out of his under clothes, stripping him down to his boxer shorts only. You straddled his hips, pushing him back down amongst the satin sheets and letting your hands wander along his broad, scarred chest. He groaned wantonly. Your tender touch combined with the unfamiliar softness of what lay beneath him was almost enough to make him enter a meltdown. You hummed softly, your voice lulling him in the most comforting manner imaginable. Your fingers dipped further down his body and traced the short tufts of brown hair that poked out the hem of his underwear. Feeling your fingers fiddle with his waistband as he lay on the king sized bed felt ethereal. It was almost too much, he had to stop himself from swatting your hand away. If Din could have it his way, he’d grab you and roll you over, so he was on top -- taking control over you. But you had done this, all of this, to try and help him relax. So, he just lay there and surrendered to you.

The sky was dimming as the minutes passed by. You made a good habit to take your time with him, missing this kind of intimacy. Truthfully, it was hard to ever catch moments like this with Grogu being around. You and Din practically always had to sacrifice loving, passionate sex for quickies in between his bounties; and it wasn’t always easy.

“You-- you look so pretty like this, on top of me.” Your husband gasped out, his already dark eyes growing shades darker with lust.

For a split second, you pulled off him and untied your tunic, letting your simple robe fall to the ground and revealing your almost naked body to him. He was obsessed with you. Absolutely smitten, and it was unlike anything he’d ever been like with anyone ever before. Straddling him once more, you began to grind over his half hard cock, moaning at the friction between his underwear and your lace panties.

You leaned down and pressed your soft lips against his, enveloping him into a sweet kiss. You drop your lips along his gruff jaw and down the column of his neck, making a conscious effort to suck at his sweet spot you’d memorised so well. Reluctantly, you pulled off him and hovered over his lap, signalling with your hands for him to pull down his underwear. He took his hardening cock in his hand and wiped the beads of precum that had developed at his head. Taking the salty seed on his index finger, he brought it up to your mouth and pushed the digit in between your lips. You moaned longingly, relishing in his taste before pulling off him with a pop.

Din pulled off your panties and began to stroke between your folds, groaning when he felt just how slick and ready you were for him. He squeezed your hips and nodded, illustrating that he was ready, and you took a deep breath, anticipating the delicious stretch his cock offered you. You sank down on top of him, your eyes snapping shut as you felt every amazing bump and ridge and vein of his manhood grind along your fluttering walls.

He seated deep inside of you, giving you a few minutes to adjust, and he began to rub tight circles into your clit. He was absolutely mesmerized by you. You chanted his name like it was a prayer, and Din wondered how he ever got so lucky.

Feeling you clench around him and sensing you were about to cum, Din removed his hand from your cunt and gave you a small spanking on the curve of your ass. Your gasp of shock from your orgasm denial turned into a wanton moan as you wiggled further down on him. You giggled, nudging your nose against his as you felt the same finger he’d used earlier on you, make its way to your puckered asshole. Anal was something you’d been working your way up to, but hadn’t tried yet.

“Do you want this?” Din asked, teasing your entrance with the tip of his finger.

“Mhm,” you nodded desperately.

“Are you sure you can take it?” he beckoned, a wicked smirk gracing his soft pink lips.

“Y-yes,” you whispered.

“I can’t hear you,” Din growled, giving you another spank. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you cried, “P-please Din, fuck, please. I want it.”

“Dirty girl.” He gritted out, slowly pushing his digit inside of you.

Maker, you were full. In every way imaginable, Din was filling you up, stretching you wide, and it felt… amazing. You began to rock your hips over his cock as he lazily thrust his finger inside your asshole, and you felt yourself panting with every little stroke and movement.

“You look so good, like this,” Din gasped. “Won’t last long.”

And, he didn’t. The second he felt you cumming on top of him, your walls gripping his girth tighter than a vice, he came undone. His load was large, as expected, as his seed spurted in ropes inside of you. Din’s hands wrapped around your stomach and he began to rub soothing circles in your tummy. You didn’t lift off him, but instead, relished the feeling of his cock softening inside of you.

“Maybe this time it’ll work,” he grumbled. “And if not, we’ll keep trying. I won’t stop til I’ve put a baby inside of you, cya’re.”

You hummed and stretched out over him, resting your sticky forehead against his. “Good job we have all honeymoon.”

Din chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek with his hand. Well, if you’d accomplished one thing, it was that Din was certainly feeling more relaxed, that’s for sure.

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

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[tennessoui]

50 but its Obi-Wan tired and stressed going through a messy divorce who mets ray of sunshine Anakin ❤

This is basically the Prologue to the story of how Homeowner Obi-Wan Adopts Two Children and A Husband Without Realizing It

50. Going Through a Divorce (Divorced!Obi-Wan)

Buy a house, they had said. You have a wife. You should have a house, they had said. The market is in your favor right now, they had said. This area is nice. Good for kids if that’s something you’re thinking about. Buy a house.

No one ever told Obi-Wan what to do if your wife divorces you and moves out, but the house is legally in your name and the weight of the mortgage is slowly killing you because while you’re a great English professor, you don’t exactly get paid a commission for how many kids decide to take your class after looking at your chili pepper score on Rate My Professor.

Obi-Wan sits in his study with the windows shut and the door closed. It’s the only room in the house that doesn’t feel like something’s glaringly missing. Every other place held at least a few of Satine’s possessions, and if he leaves the shelter of this one final safe haven, he knows himself well enough to know that he’ll prod at all those little absences the way a tongue ghosts over the pit left by a lost tooth.

But this study has always been his, and it still feels like it now. And while the house is, arguably, also still his and has always been, it feels too big now. Too empty.

He is not enough for the house either, it seems.

Obi-Wan snorts at the thought and pours himself a drink. He’s getting maudlin in his old age. Sentimental. What he should be doing is thinking of the logistics going forward, although he knows few. How To Get Divorced was never something they taught in schools, nor something he had thought to be in his future.

How To Pick Up The Pieces of Your Shattered Heart had been a tough lesson to learn a year ago when his wife--ex-wife now--had broached the topic of separation. Separation, as if that wasn’t simply a long-drawn out end. She hadn’t taken that criticism lightly, nor should she have. Their ensuing fight had only ended when she had gasped wetly through her tears and told him, “See? Who are we anymore? I don’t want to fight anymore, Obi.”

To which Obi-Wan had said, of course, “Don’t call me that.” and Satine had left without another word. Given enough time to reflect upon her argument, he did find the logic in it. They’d married young and then changed in ways that couldn’t click together. Obi-Wan would have been fine with continuing to try to force them to work, but Satine had never been one to hate herself in that way.

The papers had come on a rainy day in October. The love had stayed on, unwelcome and bitter and agonizing in turn, well into April. Now it’s autumn again, and Obi-Wan has a house that’s too big for just him and no wife or partner or lover to fill its gaps.

There’s a loud ping of his phone that brings him out of his thoughts. It’s a message from Quinlan, just a link. Obi-Wan almost doesn’t click it, not in the mood for a funny video or in-depth but frightfully out-of-touch opinion on a recent movie. Then Quinlan texts again. I know you like your blondes fiery is all he says, and now Obi-Wan has to know.

He touches the link and it takes him to a posting on a website dedicated to finding roommates. The text loads slowly, probably because there’s a lot of it.

IN NEED OF ROOMMATE ASAP the title screams. Reflexively, Obi-Wan checks the time-stamp, but this was posted only a day ago. His heart warms at the idea of Quinlan checking this website trying to solve Obi-Wan’s problem of the mortgage for him.

Then he keeps reading.

Hi, I’m Anakin, 26, it reads. Working in tech right now--should make any sort of income required. Recently and unexpectedly kicked out of my place. Parent of two toddlers, but they’re angels (separately)! They are past the point of drawing on walls and they are potty-trained. Would be willing to put down a pet deposit but no pets, just the twins. Being evicted in the next five days so desperately need place. Twins’ mom could take twins while I move out and then move in but she can’t have them longer than a couple of weeks because of her job.

Also full disclosure, I have to move out because I “assaulted” my landlord! He was being a creep about my friend and touched her without her consent. I’m not actually a violent person and will not hit you! Just if you call my landlord for a tenant reference, he won’t be nice. He’ll be very, very biased.

Before twins can move in, I will need to run a background check on you as well just to make sure you’re not a creep (creeps DNI)

Let me know if you’re interested!

(Please give me a chance.)

There’s a couple of pictures at the bottom, just after the man’s phone number and email. One depicts a smiling, attractive man, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans with a young child on each hip. The next is a close-up of the kids in fancy clothing, probably to prove that they’re not messy. The girl is scowling at the camera while the boy is crying though, so the overall effect is ruined. Still, Obi-Wan finds iit endearing. The last picture is Anakin’s mugshot, the man in question looking decidedly which makes Obi-Wan snort. He appreciates the level of honesty and loyalty Anakin’s clearly showing.

But this is a lot.

Obi-Wan hasn’t started to look into the option of finding a roommate to lessen the burden of his mortgage payments. And to jump straight to a man with a violent past and his two small children?

His house would be absolute chaos. He and Satine had always kept an orderly space, one that featured long bouts of quietly enjoying the other’s company from opposite ends of the living room, but there would be no quiet with two children and what he’s positive is a very lively man.

But hadn’t he just been thinking that the house was too silent now? Too empty? It would be--

Well. It wouldn’t feel like his and Satine’s house anymore. It would be unrecognizable.

Somehow he’s jotting down the number before he even realizes what he’s doing. And then he’s putting it into his phone. And then it’s ringing.

“Hello?” A distinctly masculine voice says on the other side. Obi-Wan clears his throat, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“Hi, hello yes. I’m calling about the ad you posted online yesterday?”

“What about it?” Anakin asks slowly, sounding suspicious. Obi-Wan has to fight to roll his eyes. If he hadn’t already committed himself to following through on the worst idea he’s had in years, he’d hang up at the other man’s clear distrust. He wants to berate him that this is not how you sell yourself to potential homeowners, but that isn’t his place.

“My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he says instead. “And I fear I may be your only hope.”

[blessednereid]

Pity the Living

Daniel Sharman x Reader Series

A/N: The Much Requested, and By Requested, I mean @rogershoe wanted me to write this, MY DANIEL SHARMAN FANFICTION!!!!!! The character that Y/N plays is based on my OC for FTWD and is not an actual character in FTWD. Basic Premise of the setting for this chapter is that they're in high-school/ secondary school. But for the majority of the story(minus flashbacks) it's set in 2016/17 when s3 of FTWD was filmed.

Story Summary: When (Y/N) (L/N) reunites with a high-school friend on the set of the job she's been working on for the past 2-3 years, not only is she excited to work with the guy who inspired her to go into acting, but to hear about what he's done since she's seen him. But the more they talk, the more she realizes, this reunion is not going the way she had planned.

CW: Cursing? brief mention of alcohol, anxiety, mentions of food, fake dagger, fake blood, bets,

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Career Day

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Most of the students around you were chorusing to the tune of your school anthem, but not you. You had heard the melody and sung it almost a million times. Whether you were exaggerating or not, not even you knew. Instead, you were whispering and laughing with one of your best friends, Daniel Sharman.

You met Daniel when you first came to the school. You didn't know many people. You didn't even know yourself in this place. It was a completely foreign experience, but he stuck by your side and showed you around.

Since then, you had made friends, joined the swim team, learned your way around the school without ending up in the boys' restrooms instead of the girls' ones. Despite not needing Daniel to show you around anymore, he still provided plenty of comedic support and pick-me-ups and was a great mate all around.

Your teacher had just finished introducing all the parents who were presenting at career day. The assignment being after the presentations were finished, you were supposed to think about what you wanted to be in the future. You had no idea what you wanted to be. But of course… Daniel did.

"An actor."

"An actor?" he nodded. "Like Macbeth?"

"No, Macbeth is a character. An actor is a person who plays the character."

"Why an actor?"

"Dunno. Just seems right."

You frowned. "Huh, that's nice. Knowing what you want to be."

"You could always try acting. It's worth a shot."

"Hah, if I ever tried acting, it would probably be when I'm old, senile, and look like Betty White."

"Oh, come on. You're a great actress!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Sharman?" you gasped.

"Just that you tell fibs and stories as if they were the truth. That's all acting is."

"I DO NOT!"

"How did you convince your mum that your dog jumped onto the table and ate the cake without making any noise last weekend, then?" You opened your mouth to speak before closing it.

"Cat got your tongue?" he teased.

"Shut up, Sharman."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

L/N Residence

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You and Daniel were both swimming in the pool in your backyard when Daniel asked you the question.

"Did you think about it?"

Still floating, you asked, "About what?"

"Acting."

You laughed incredulously. "You were serious?"

"Of course I was." He swam closer to you and pulled your leg down, making you flop around and splash water.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"Was just trying to get your attention," he remarked innocently.

You coughed. "You had it."

"Picture this," he waved you off. "Us, on the red carpet-"

"Who's red carpet?"

"Does it matter? We'll be each other's dates anyways."

"Why is that?" you asked.

"Because we're best friends."

"What if one of us has a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

He shrugged. "Ok, whatever. We're on the red carpet separately. It's both of ours red carpet-"

"So, does that mean we're in a movie together?"

"Yes, Y/N," he muttered exasperatedly.

"But that's impossible?"

"Why do you say that?"

You leaned closer to his ear. "BECAUSE I'M NOT BECOMING AN ACTOR."

He jumped away from you, proceeding to splash you with water.

"Mark my words. I know talent when I see it."

You sighed. "Could this just be you not wanting to be lonely in the acting world?"

He jutted his lip and spoke in a whiny voice. "Maybe…"

You laughed before splashing a giant wave of water at him. While he still had water in his eyes, you dove under and pulled him down.

He flailed around before his head popped up, and he calmed down.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

"PAYBACK, SHARMAN!"

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Announcement

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

The intercom gave a heavy buzz, and static-y noises ran amok over the building before a voice actually came through the speakers.

"Hello, Teachers, Students, and Faculty. Welcome back to school. We hope that you all enjoyed your holidays and got the rest you needed to pay attention in class today," the last part was passive. Your principal gave more announcements for clubs and sports around the school, such as upcoming games or reminders for students to buy the school yearbook.

You were nodding along interested, or looking for interest really when something caught your best friend's attention.

"The school will also be hosting its first-ever play, Romeo and Juliet. Interested people should report to the music room before the end of the week to receive information."

You saw Daniel's eyes widen only moments before he spoke up. "Hey," he waved at you. "You should audition!"

"Daniel, are you insane?"

He chuckled, "No, but I think you'd like it."

You tried arguing, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. "You're the one who said you didn't know what you wanted to do after you graduated. Doing this cannot hurt."

"Yeah, it can't hurt until I trip on my costumes and break my neck!"

"That rarely ever happens," he said exasperatedly. "Ok, how about this? You audition, and if you end up getting a role and actually doing the play, I'll give you fifty pounds."

You squinted. "Do you even have fifty pounds to give me?"

"Do you even have to ask," he feigned shock in the accusation? You gave a sour face before he truthfully answered. "Fine, I don't have it now. But I will by the time the play comes around."

"What do I get just for auditioning?"

"I'll convince my mum to make that cake you like."

"Fine."

"BUT!" he exclaimed. "You have to audition for Juliet."

"You're kidding?"

He laughed. "No, I'm not. You have to audition for Juliet."

"I hate you," you mumbled before sighing a whispered 'fine.'

He gave a toothy smile. "Then we have a deal."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Auditions

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You reluctantly walked onto the stage, Daniel's widening grin so visible in the audience. He said that he only put his name on the audition sheet so he could watch the auditions. He would've already been gone by the time it was his turn.

"Hello, My name is Y/n L/n, and I am auditioning for Juliet," your lips pressing into a straight line after saying the sentence.

You stammered through your first few lines. "Sh-Shall I speak ill of him— that is my husband?" You said with a laugh.

"Ah," you paused and clicked your tongue. "Poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name… When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?"

You said your following line in an accusatory manner. "But wherefore, villain... didst thou kill my cousin?" you said, though your voice squealed trying to pronounce 'didst.' "That villain cousin would have killed my husband."

"Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!" Your voice rose and fell several octaves. "Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy." Fake tears spring to your eyes, your voice cracked, and you began slowly falling against an invisible wall.

You looked down at your paper for what to say next. "My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband. All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?" You wiped your cheeks dramatically.

"Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murd'red me. I would forget it fain;" your lips quivered, and you sucked in deep, heaving breaths before speaking your line.

"But O, it presses to my memory. Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds! 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banishèd!" You shouted.

You stood back up in a startling jump, and with a proud smile, you said triumphantly, "And Scene!"

The directors and some students in the audience, especially Daniel, gave a round of applause before the director dismissed you.

You took the steps to the stage and sat next to Daniel as the director called the next student to audition.

"You were amazing! The director might as well have given you the role right then and there."

You laughed, "Hang on, charmer. There were a bunch of Juliet's who literally said that entire thing so… fluently. I stammered through the whole thing."

"But you showed more emotion than anyone else. You only had a week to prepare. The actual show will be like child's play."

"They want people who can memorize and recite. The emotion can be added later, but it's worth nothing if they forget their lines."

"There is such a thing called improvising for a reason," he reassured.

"Who in their right, bloody minds wants to improvise Shakespeare?"

He turned his head and chuckled before waving a five-pound note in front of your face. "Here, I got to go before they call me, but you earned this at least."

"Five pounds for being forced to audition for a stupid play so you can prove a point? Wow, you must really fancy me, huh, Sharman?" you said sarcastically.

"Goodbye, L/n," he whispered before sneaking out the back door of the auditorium.

"Alright, next up. Daniel Sharman!" The director shouted your friend's name a few more times before giving up.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Headmasters Office

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

A week after your audition, you were called to the headmasters' office. Thus is the cause of the curious looks from your classmates. Oohs and Aahs flooded your ears as you grabbed your bag and headed out the door to the front of the school.

When you got to the front of the building and went into the headmasters' office, you saw the Theatre director, Ms Parker, standing behind the desk. "Headmaster Leo allowed me to use his office to do this. Isn't that cool?"

Ms Parker was one of the younger teachers in school. She was twenty-four, and this was her first year teaching after receiving her bachelor's degree in education and a master's degree in music production. A fact she could astoundingly ramble about for fifteen minutes. As proven at the auditions.

"I didn't want to call you to the theatre room. That would be too predictable, correct?" You'd come to realize she was a very eccentric woman. "I have called you in here to inform you that you have been selected to perform in this year's play of Romeo and Juliet."

A wave of shock coursed through your body, and you were sure it reflected on your face. "Are you sure?"

"Darling, I'm positive!- your audition was totally spectacular! So brilliant-in fact- that I am completely sure in my choice to make you our female lead- Juliet!"

"What!" Your eyes widened into a blank stare. Your thoughts were running rampant in your mind. You thought that performing on the stage would be a breeze when you weren't the lead.

"Ms Parker, I didn't actually want the part of Juliet! It's just that my friend dared me to audition for Juliet! Is there no way I can get a smaller part? I'm no Juliet. The show would be ruined," you rambled.

The directors' facial expressions softened, "Darling, you are the only choice. None of the other people who auditioned can even compare to the amount of passion you produced in that audition. I am determined to have you as our Juliet."

You whimpered out an "Ok." Professors had a strange way of convincing you to do extra credit assignments or things that aren't necessary.

"We have a chemistry read for you and a few of our other choices for Romeo after school today. Do you need to contact a parent to let them know where you'll be?"

"Uh, yes, please."

After you made your call, you walked back to your classroom with shaky hands. The class period was almost over, but you had to tell Daniel that you had gotten a part in the show. Not just any part- THE PART!

You shuffled into the classroom reluctantly. All eyes were on you as every student had assumed you'd been in trouble. Either suspended, expelled, or told your parents were going to have a sit-down with the headmaster.

You took your seat next to Daniel before taking out a piece of paper and writing out a note, encompassing the words, "I got the part!"

You slid the sheet discreetly onto his desk. When he read it, his eyes widened, and he quietly moved his hands toward yours, beckoning for a high five.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

First Rehearsal

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

After the chemistry read, the role of Romeo was given to a kid named James Mercer-Allen got the part. Though it was more because the directors were starting to become tired.

The next day was the first rehearsal. Swimming season was last semester, so there was no clash in schedules with the play.

"Alright, this rehearsal is to get acquainted with the stage, your fellow actors, and directors," she insisted. "Now, let's introduce ourselves. Can our Romeo please stand up?"

James stood up and gave a brief introduction. You were called on next. You stated your name, "I was on the swim team last semester, and I'm in my thirteenth year. I hope I can do this role justice."

More students stood up to introduce themselves. The entire process took more than thirty minutes.

The next thing to happen was that the rest of the students were called to recite lines for various roles. The only parts that had been cast preliminarily were Romeo and Juliet.

You and James had sat on the wooden stools unless there was a scene going on that needed Romeo and/or Juliet.

By the end of the first rehearsal, the majority of the speaking roles were cast. You went home exhausted but not expecting the conversation that waited for you.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The Talk

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

"We're moving?" you shouted at your parents from your seat across from them in the sitting room. "What do you mean we're moving."

"Honey, your dad got a job in the states, so we have to move," your mother argued.

"But what about school? No school will take me in the middle of the year, and it's my last year of secondary school. I don't want to spend the rest of my last year knowing nobody."

Your dad, the man of the hour, spoke up. "Dear, we're moving at the end of the year. After school ends."

"But- What about Uni?"

"You said you were taking a sabbatical year!"

"Yes, so I could intern in London!"

"Can't you intern in California?" Your mother whined.

"We're going to California? It's the furthest state?"

Your dad attempted to reassure you but failed. "Darling, it won't be that bad. Maybe you'll like it there more than you like it here!"

"I could never like anywhere more than I like it here!"

You agreed to go to your room and spent the rest of the day there. Later on, after you finished moping, you ringed up your closest friends to tell them you were moving. You did that until you were so tired you fell asleep on the phone with Sarah before you even called Daniel.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Confrontation

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

"Why am I hearing from everyone besides you that you're moving?" Daniel appeared out of thin air behind you, and the accusation was an assault on your conscience.

You could lie and tell him that you wanted to reveal that to him in person, or you could just tell him the truth- say you fell asleep. Mix-and-Match? You ended up just telling the truth. "I fell asleep when I was making some of my other calls. I was going to tell you, I swear!"

"Why didn't you call me first. I'm your best friend?"

"That's why! It was too hard. I kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off because I didn't want to tell you, I don't want it to be true, and telling you of all people would make it feel real."

"Why can't you stay for Uni?"

"I already told my parents I was taking a gap year. I didn't apply to any colleges."

"Crap!" he sighed. "Ok, well, we're going to have to make the most of it. And! You're getting a going away party!"

"Daniel, I don't need-"

"No debate! You are getting a going away party!"

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Opening Night

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Four months later, after all the rehearsals and memorizations of lines. After much running around the entire film department, it was finally opening night, and your nerves were shot.

You were scrambling all morning to find everything you needed. All your costumes were at the school, but you still needed to bring your black leotard, skin-coloured tights, and wear your hair in an up-do style.

You decided to do your skincare routine, but your panic got the best of you, and you forgot what every single product was used for.

Daniel came over and helped you get ready but found you practically hyperventilating.

Your parents drove you both to the theatre, and when Ms Parker told you that Daniel couldn't be backstage, you promptly told her that he was your emotional support. After much arguing, she finally let him backstage.

Around an hour before showtime, the director told Daniel that he had to go wait in the audience if he already bought his ticket or that he had to go do it now.

Before he left, he gave you a pep-talk. "Hey, so one time, I was in this play, and the idea was that I was expelled, and there was a piece of paper I had to give my 'mother,' but I lost it. So we had to improvise, but I couldn't find the paper, and I felt horrible. So just know, even if you forget your lines, you must improvise, and remember, it still probably won't compare to the embarrassment I felt that day. So you can laugh at my humiliation. "

You chuckled, "I will. Ok, go before you get in trouble."

"Ok, me, our parents and all your friends will be in the front row. I've already reserved the entire row. I brought a whole bag of jackets just for that reason!"

"You can't do that," you said in between cackles.

"For you, I'll do anything," he grinned.

A few hours later and the show was almost done. "What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end," you wept.

"O, churl! Drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to die with thine restorative." You leaned over James and let your hair fall to the side of your head to cover your face. You pulled back without actually kissing James.

"Thy lips are warm."

A whispery voice came from offstage, "Which way?" The cue for you to take the poison, which was actually cranberry juice.

"Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!" You grabbed the dagger and brought it near your chest. "This is thy sheath;" you drew the fake knife back three inches from your chest and stabbed it to where the bag of more cranberry juice was and punctured the bag. 'Blood' soaked through your dress. "There rust, and let me die." You fell dramatically onto the altar and waited for the scene to end as the crowd cheered.

After the show, you dashed into the crowd where your friends and family waited for you. Ovations and Applauses were passed, lauded boxes of chocolates and gorgeous roses were given.

When you got to Daniel, he practically tackled you with a hug. "I actually thought you died for a split second. The blood looked so real."

"Daniel, most people don't bleed that fast, do they?"

"I don't know but fear kicked in, and I couldn't make sense of anything."

You grinned and almost went to your parents before Daniel grabbed your arm. "You don't have a date to the Leavers ball, do you?"

"No, I don't. Why?"

He sighed. "Well, I was thinking that you could go with me. I don't have a date either."

You squinted, thinking there was some ulterior motive behind his actions. "Ok, I'll go with you if you give me the money you owe me before then."

"It's right here," he smiled.

Your face scrunched up, but you reluctantly agreed. You only had a month of school left, and you might as well spend it having fun with your friends.

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

The Leavers Ball and the Getaway Party

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

You were dressed in a light blue, pleated, Mikado prom dress that cut off at mid-thigh. You had black wedges on your feet and a black pearl-beaded bracelet on your arm.

You were wearing a half-up, half-down style that framed your face and a silver necklace with a circle-shaped diamond.

You were sitting in the parlour when Daniel rang the doorbell. He was ten minutes late.

"Sorry," he said when your dad answered it. "I know I'm late. I was picking up Kat and James."

Kat and James were your and Daniel's respective friends who'd started last year after you and Daniel introduced them.

"Hi," you popped out of the shadows. "Alright, Mom, Dad, we're late, so we're just going to get goi-"

"Wait! I have to take pictures! Go get Kat and James."

"No, Mom. No pictures!"

"It's only right. I just want a few. We can take it outside."

You sighed but reluctantly caved into your mother's will.

The four of you took pictures outside of Daniel's Jeep Wrangler. You took ones with silly faces, just girls, just boys, and ones with all four of you before your parents allowed you to leave.

You were forty minutes late, and the ball was already in full swing by the time you got there.

You got on the dance floor immediately because one of your favourite songs was playing, but the DJ switched the song as soon as you found a decent spot. It was a slow song. You chuckled, and Daniel put his hands on your waist.

"Well, this is awkward."

A few minutes later, Daniel posed an interesting question.

"Did you know that I had a crush on you when you first came to school?"

"Uh, you stammered. "No, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I did. It was short, though. Surface-level."

"Oh," you said. "Should I take offence to that?"

"What?" His eyes widened in realization with what he said. "No, that's not what I meant. You have an amazing personality. I just meant that… I just meant I like you more as a friend than to ruin that with any of those feelings."

"Oh, ok. You wouldn't have, though."

"I wouldn't?"

"No, everyone needs an ego boost every once in a while."

"Haha!"

"And besides, I've had feelings for you at one point too. But it was very cliche, so I tried to shake it as hard as I could."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "And did you?"

"Like I said, as hard as I could. If it's still there somewhere, it's buried very deep, so much so that I was embarrassed."

"Embarrassed to like me?"

"I mean embarrassed to try and make my life seem like some movie."

"Oh, well, if you did, it would've just made you that much better as an actress. Speaking of that, would you consider acting in the least?"

"Maybe, now that I'm leaving, it's basically the last thing I have to connect me to you."

"No," he said, pointing to your bracelet. "You have that."

You had forgotten that it was Daniel who gave it to you, but the realization brought a smile to your face. "Oh yeah, I'll never take it off."

Later on, long before the ball ended, you saw many of your friends leaving.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" Daniel approached you.

"Where is everyone going?"

He wriggled his eyebrows. "Afterparty!"

"But it's not over?"

"Quit being a party popper and just come with us, L/N!"

You gave in, something you did a lot, and you all started driving. When you got there, you realized you were at Daniel's house.

"The afterparty is at your house?" you asked.

"Well…" James answered.

Kat joined in. "It's really an afterparty!"

"This is your going away party!" Daniel finished.

"But I'm not going away for another month."

"Well, now you have an entire month for people to give you gifts and stuff, and you don't have to worry about the party!" He reasoned.

"But why did it have to be after the Leavers ball?"

"Because you're already in a dress, and it has to be a surprise! Surprise!" Kat exclaimed.

"Alright, fine!"

The entire night you partied and danced, and though you didn't drink alcohol, plentiful amounts of pop and mocktails were passed around. The music was a delight to your ears with all your favourite songs. There were chips and pizza with all your favourite toppings.

"This party is awesome!"

Daniel grinned. "Well, I am an amazing party planner if I do say so myself."

☆◦ 。＼｜／。◦☆

Airport

☆◦ 。／｜＼。◦☆

Daniel's parents drove your family to the airport. Your parents had sold the car. Your dad would return in a week to close a deal on the house. Everything was official, and now you were leaving.

You got out of the car, and the tears forcefully began to fall.

"I'm really gonna miss you, jerk," you said disdainfully to Daniel.

He chuckled. "I'm going to miss you more."

"Impossible!"

He wiped the fallen tear from your eye, and for a moment, you could see every single multi-coloured speck in his eyes and noticed how sometimes they looked blue, and at others, they looked grey or green.

You noticed the curvature of his smile and the chisel of his jawline.You saw the hurt in his eyes that said, 'why do you have to go? You're killing me,' and wanted to never move from that position.

He continued to rub the tears that fell onto your cheek, and the sad moment was as sheltered as it could be. You felt safe with him, in his arms, just looking at his face and being reminded of how he comforted you in a place that felt as familiar as Oz felt to Dorothy.

"What am I gonna do without you?" you whispered.

"Get at least one acting job, get an assistant and an agent, I'll do the same thing, and then either one of us has our assistants reach out to our agents, so we get back in touch in case we ever lose touch."

He sounded so grave that you couldn't help but laugh. "That's assuming I do become an actress, Daniel."

"You're right," he whined. "But don't forget me."

"I promise."

And you tried to keep that promise. Throughout your first year, you interned at UCLA, working in the lab. You then applied to go to school there, and you still tried to keep Daniel in your mind. Maintaining a social life on campus combined with schoolwork already wasn't easy. However, you still wouldn't let yourself forget your best friend.

It wasn't until you entered your senior year and you were about to graduate that he started to wane in your memories. The things you did together became obsolete as new friends and memories replaced the old. The things he taught you were thrown out to make space for the new lessons you learned each day.

Even when you did become an actress, you never really remembered why you decided to. You remembered that your friend pushed you to do that play, but it was almost ten years ago, and for the life of you, you couldn't remember his name.

But you did do it, first as an extra, then a body double, and then you started getting l roles on smaller shows. But your big break was getting a quasi-lead role on the spin-off of a big television show, The Walking Dead. For two years, you enjoyed going to conventions and playing the complex character, Valeria Bishop, and you thought you had it all figured out.

But life has a funny way of coming full circle and throwing you a curveball that knows you off course and changes your life.

[ijustwant2write]

The First Boyfriend-John Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @ilovna​)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hey when u have the time can you please do a John Shelby imagine where they are married they have been since they were young and Katie their oldest child she’s like 14 or 13 she want to bring a boy to meet her parents and y/n has to calm John down and tell him to give the boy a chance and they they do finally meet him he seems ok but then he starts being all Percy towards y/n and John gets protective and y/n gives him permission to kick him out . Hope it makes sense 😂❤️’

Characters: John Shelby x Reader (Married), Katie Shelby x Reader (Daughter)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, age gap between teenagers, violence, inappropriate touching, fluff

                                      *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I groaned as I heard a thump come from upstairs, the kids screaming at each other as they bickered. Looking down at the washing up, I decided to leave them for now, they could sort it between themselves. That was, until there was a louder thud, and all of them were screaming. I dried my hands on a tea towel, checking on the pie in the oven before stomping my way upstairs. That always freaked out the children, they knew they were in for a telling off.

“Right,” I announced my presence in the boys room, where the younger girls were also playing,“what is all of this racket?”

“He snatched the toys away from me!”

“She hit me!”

“She said a naughty word!”

“He pulled my hair!”

Everyone shouted over each other, meaning I got nowhere close to an actual answer.

“Alright!” I snapped.“Before you all yell at me again, this is what we’re going to do. Girls, go back to your room, boys you stay in here. You will wait in those rooms until I call you for your baths.”

They all groaned, none of them ever liked bath time, it took valuable time away from their playing. 

“I will have none of that, do as I say.” the children made an act of slumping around, the girls dragging their feet as they walked past me.“I love you all.”

They murmured ‘I love you too’ before the doors to their rooms shut, and I laughed under my breath. They certainly had their father’s dramatics and unfortunately, both of our stubborn tendencies. As I headed back downstairs, the front door opened, John waltzing in and smirking as he spotted me.

“Now this is a pleasant greeting.” he cockily said as I got to the last step, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I cupped his face in my hands, leaning down to welcome him with a kiss.“Thought you would be at the Garrison.”

“You say that like I’m there every night.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, before we both laughed.“Just got to bathe the children, then we can eat.”

His eye line was at a perfect height to stare at my breasts, and he made a point of it.“And what’s on the menu tonight?”

I scoffed, raising his chin to look me in the eyes.“Pie. And that’s it.”

“We’ll see about that.”

The door opened again, this time Katie walking in. She made a disgusted face at the sight of her parents showing love for one another.

“Ah good, you’re back on time for once. You can help me with you brothers and sisters.”

“Alright.” she replied, intending to head towards the front room when I stopped her.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“What? Nothing.”

“There must be, you didn’t protest or huff at me when I asked you to do something.”

“Come on, spit it out.” John pushed.

“It’s nothing, really!”

“Katie, we can do this all day. Perhaps you should have less time out with your mates-”

“Fine!” Katie quickly gave in, which was unusual for her.“I...I have a boyfriend.”

“You what?”

“His name is James, he’s really nice! I’ve been seeing him for a while-”

“How long’s a while?”

“Uh, three weeks, maybe four.”

John’s jaw dropped, looking at me with wide eyes before going back to Katie.“Three weeks?!”

“I said maybe four.”

“Well it certainly won’t go to five.”

“Dad!”

“No Katie, he’s just a crush.”

“He’s not! I promise I really like him!”

“But how much does he like you? How do you know what his intentions are?”

“OK police inspector,” I patted him on the chest as I stood between them,“calm down, both of you. Now, Katie obviously like this boy, so we have to respect that. But Katie, you know you have to be careful around boys.”

“Yes, I remember you saying. I was wondering...could he maybe come round for dinner one night?”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, he liked the idea too. It’ll mean you can get to know him, then you know I’m safe.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea Katie.”

“What?!” John exclaimed.

“John.” I warned him.“You arrange it with him, perhaps sometime next week?”

“Thanks mum!” Katie beamed, giving me a quick hug.

“That’s alright darling. Now, go get your brother’s and sister’s ready for their baths whilst I draw it.”

I kissed the top of her head before she rushed past her dad and up the stairs. I just laughed at John’s shocked expression, wondering how on Earth that all happened before him.

“Oh, Katie!” I quickly shouted.

“Yeah?” her head popped around the corner.

“How old is James?”

Her face dropped. She was still hiding something.“Um, he’s...he’s seventeen.”

“Excuse me?”

“He just turned seventeen! Got to go and do as you asked me!”

Right, that wasn’t the answer I was expecting. I slowly turned to face John, who had an extremely angry expression on his face.

“Seventeen?” he scowled.

“Yeah, I’m not happy about that either. But let’s give him a chance.”

“He’s fucking seventeen! He’s taking advantage of a fourteen year old!”

“Darling, calm down. Please, let’s see what he’s like. Not everyone was like you at seventeen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“They weren’t all as charming as you.” I quickly saved, though he knew what I meant.“If he’s a little shit, we can stop her from seeing him.”

“Or stop him from seeing her.”

“John, do not traumatize that boy.”

“No promises.”

John had not been in a great mood for the rest of the week. He was constantly fussing over Katie, questioning her left, right and centre about anything he could think of. She was getting frustrated, she couldn’t even pop out to buy us bread without John asking if she had seen James on the way. I tried to stop him, but he was so persistent. He was only being like this because he wanted to protect his little girl, he knew what boys were like at that age. I was worried about the age gap. It wasn’t much, but Katie was still so young, only just becoming a teenager, whereas this boy was a year away from being an adult. I only hoped he would prove us wrong at this dinner.

We had scheduled the dinner for the following week, and the day was already upon us. Katie and I had been preparing a meal all day, feeding the kids before us so they wouldn’t act up or take my attention away. Katie was dressed in her best dress, hair pinned back with a nervous smile on her face. However, John was no where to be seen. He had been gone all day, he was at work, but I hoped he hadn’t been snatched away for Blinder business. Katie stressed over this, sitting by the window on the lookout for him. 

“He’s here!” Katie announced, dashing through to the kitchen.

“Your dad?” I asked, wiping my hands on my apron.

“No, James! Why does dad always have to ruin everything?!” 

“Hey, look at me,” I grabbed her by the shoulders,“it will all be fine. Let him him, we will start talking and just excuse your dad. He will be here Katie.”

I pushed her towards the door, taking off my apron and making sure everything was in order; when really, I was stopping myself from rushing out and bombarding the boy.

“Mum,” Katie called me, and I stepped out of the kitchen,“this is James. James, this is my mum.”

“Pleasure to meet you Mrs Shelby.” he politely took my hand, and I thought he was going to shake it, but instead kissed it, keeping eye contact for a little too long.

“You too James.” I smiled, wondering if he was just trying to make a good impression.“Katie’s dad isn’t home from work yet, but we can sit in the front room whilst we wait.”

We engaged in small talk, me asking about his life and if he had a job. He was a good speaker, no stuttering or wondering what to say next. So far, so good. Katie hung onto to his every word, it was a wonder her cheeks weren’t hurting from smiling so much. However, some things James said were a little...I didn’t know how to put it, but the way he spoke was as if he was wooing me, he would sometimes wink, or make a suggestive joke, which would fly over Katie’s head. I was starting to side with John, this young boy made me uncomfortable.

Another hour passed, still no sign of John, and if we didn’t eat soon, the food would burn. I tried waiting for a little longer, but I could tell Katie was starting to worry again. So I suggested we start eating without him, not having to explain why John was late. James would have to be an idiot to not know who her father was. We had only been eating for ten minutes when the back door opened, John walking into the kitchen as he took off his Peaky cap.

“Couldn’t wait for me then?” John said, no humour in his voice.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr Shelby.” James stood respectfully, ready to shake John’s hand, but he didn’t take it. I wanted to scold him for that. 

James hesitantly sat back down. John took off his coat, hanging it on the back of the door, making a show of unbuckling his jacket, which revealed his guns in the holster. I rolled my eyes, this boy was only seventeen, and not one his enemies. He sat down beside me, which happened to be opposite James, a stupid mistake I should have seen coming.

“What have I missed?” John asked as he tucked into his food.

“I’ve been getting to know James, so he’s probably going to have to repeat everything again to you.” I joked.

“Go on then.” 

Silence.

“Go on, tell me what you told my wife.”

"Dad." Katie hissed.

"It's alright Katie." James placed his hand over hers, and I caught the sight of John tensing up, nostrils flaring."I was just explaining how I'm working now, earning quite a bit actually. Finished school too, so I'm not an idiot."

"My brother, Katie's uncle, didn't finish school. You calling him an idiot?" John leaned back in his chair.

"N-no, Mr Shelby. I just meant that-"

"You just meant to keep your mouth shut."

"John, a word."

I stood up from my chair, walking towards the door and waiting for John there. He stared at James as he slowly got up, reluctantly following. I shut the door after us, shoving John towards the front room.

"Whats wrong with you?" I snapped.

"Why did we leave them alone?" he realised."Make it quick, he could be doing anything to her in there."

"Oh my god, John. They're teenagers but they're not stupid. Could you just give him a chance? Please?"

He huffed."I don't trust him."

"Of course you don't. He's the first boy Katie has brought home. She might end up bringing more-"

"No. No she won't."

"John, can you just relax? If we get through this dinner quick enough, he'll be gone."

"Let's just get back in there."

I moaned to myself, quickly going after him. We sat back down, Katie and James had been silent when we walked in. I cleared my throat as the silence continued, starting to ear again and hoping the others would copy. Luckily they did, we were able to make small talk, though John didn't participate.

Once we were done, I collected the plates with Katie, telling her she didn't have to help with the washing up. I thought she would be able to spend time with James (and keep her father away from the poor boy), however, James offered to help me instead. At first I was about to tell him that it was nonsense, until I saw John waiting by the front room, his eyes still set on James as Katie tried to drag him away. 

“I’m sorry about my husband. He’s very...protective of his children.” I said as I passed him a plate to dry.

“I understand Mrs Shelby. He’s got a beautiful family to look after.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet of you to say.”

“A very beautiful family.”

I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. The comment before was lovely, but now he seemed to be suggesting something. Being almost an adult, he was the same height as me, if not slightly taller, and I wasn’t sure how to continue the conversation.

“I could instantly tell where Katie got her looks from, though I must say, the original is always better than the copy.”

Who did this little shit think he was?

“Honestly James, you don’t have to be stuck drying the dishes. Go spend time with Katie.”

“I’m quite enjoying myself here, actually.”

This was weird. At first, I thought maybe he was being over friendly, knowing that his girlfriend was a Shelby and her father was a Peaky Blinder; or perhaps he had some alcohol to fuel his confidence. But now I could sense he was here for something else, as if he ever had a chance.

“Oh, this one is still a bit dirty.” he pointed out.

He walked behind me to place it on the other side of the sink to be cleaned again, however, he pushed his body into mine behind me, and I froze at the action out of shock. His breath was fanning on my breath as he slowly placed the plate down, hand sliding up my arm to my elbow, before tracing across my lower back as he moved away again. I dropped the plate I was washing into the sink, picking up a knife beside me and pointing it at him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” I snapped under my breath. It pissed me off that he didn’t look bothered by my threat.

“Just appreciating what’s in front of me.” he cockily replied.

“You have no respect for anyone, do you? I want you out of my house, now.”

“And break Katie’s little heart? Don’t think she would be too pleased by that.”

“She’ll be happy to know I got rid of a pervert. You;re never to go near her again.”

“You sound like your husband. Katie has been complaining about you two for weeks. She’ll only listen to me, and I’ll deny whatever you tell her. And how would your husband feel knowing we had this moment?”

“He’ll want to cut your balls off.”

“You know, I wasn’t sure if I was absolutely into you when I walked in. You’re beautiful of course, but the foul language...I don’t know, something about it is quite exciting.”

I chucked the knife into the sink, storming past the bastard and out of the kitchen, until I noticed the door was slightly open. I hadn’t left it like that. Continuing on, I took a big, deep breath before walking into the front room. John (unsurprisingly) had a glass of whiskey in hand as he sat in his chair, Katie sitting on the longer sofa, seeming upset.

“You saw, didn’t you?” I asked her.

She nodded, her eyes glued on the floor, they were glassed over.

“Did he touch you?” John snarled.

I sighed.“He...he did but-”

“That’s all I need to hear.” 

He put down his drink, making a beeline for the kitchen. I stood in the doorway of the front room, shielding Katie from what was about to happen. James yelled out in protest as John roughly dragged him out of the house. I watched as he literally threw the boy outside onto the street, people wanting to watch but also not wanting to be involved. 

“You stay the fuck away from my family. You’re lucky I don’t cut you, or do something worse. Watch your fucking back boy.”

Although I enjoyed the fear in James’ eyes, I wish he had the same look when I dealt with him. John slammed the door, causing the pictures on the wall to shake. Katie ran upstairs, upset that the boy she liked wasn’t as respectful or lovely as she thought he was. I decided to leave her for the time being, everyone needed to calm down.

“Are you alright?” John asked me, still breathing heavy.

“Yes, thank you for getting rid of him.” I sighed, wrapping my arms around him.

He embraced me, trying to calm himself down.“I love you. I won’t ever let anyone else touch you like that again.”

“I know you won’t. I’m sorry I didn’t listen before.”

“Nah, I was being over protective. He just turned out to be a twat.”

“But he’s gone now. And he won’t go near Katie again. Just know, she might be crying for a few days.”

“I’ll let you deal with that.”

[theladyofdeath]

The Return 2 {The Arrival, Part 2}

Summary: Back at the lake house, ten years later… Collaboration with @snelbz - part 2 to the sequel!

Word Count: 7136

The Arrival Series Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Even ten years later, Elain was still the first one awake whenever they took family vacations. She had woken up with the sun, tried — and failed, miserably — to rouse Azriel from sleep, read her devotions, gotten in some yoga, and started on breakfast, all before she heard the first footstep from anywhere in the house. But soon enough, she heard slow, sleepy steps on the stairs, though they headed towards the back of the house rather than towards the kitchen.

Ruling out Lannan and his voracious appetite, along with Thorn, Bennett, and John, Elain waited, mixing up the pancake batter after she put a large pan of bacon into the oven.

A few minutes later, Scarlett appeared, dragging a still half-asleep Cassian by the hand. He was yawning and had a hair brush, comb and two hair ties in his hand.

“Good morning, you two,” she laughed, pouring Cassian a cup of coffee, which he looked like he desperately needed.

He mumbled something that sounded like a typical morning greeting, while Scarlett gave her a sleepy smile after climbing up onto one of the barstools. “G’morning, Aunt Lainey. Are we having pancakes for breakfast?”

“And bacon,” she replied, smiling at her youngest niece. Layla and Scarlett had sleepovers all the time, being the two youngest and close in age.

Scarlett grinned and turned to Cassian. “Remember, I want two braids, daddy, not just one.”

He nodded, still drinking his coffee, but handed her the brush to start detangling her long, waist-length hair.

“Nesta not up yet?” Elain chuckled, pouring some of the batter into the hot pan.

“I like it better when daddy braids my hair. Mommy makes it too fancy,” Scarlett replied, scrunching up her nose.

“That’s right,” Cassian mumbled, running his fingers through his youngest’s hair. “Dad keeps the braids messy.”

Elain laughed quietly as she continued to make breakfast. “Well, if you have the magic touch, I may make you braid Layla’s hair. She always complains when I do it, and the art of braiding isn’t exactly one of Azriel’s many talents.”

“We don’t need to hear about Azriel’s many talents,” Cassian warned.

Elain jabbed him in the ribs, which only made Cassian laugh as he began to braid his daughter's hair.

“Is Thorn going back to jail today?” Scarlett asked.

Cassian sighed, Scarlett wincing as he made sure his braid was tight. “No, Thorn’s not going back to jail, ever.”

The ten-year-old rolled her eyes. “Never say never, daddy.”

Elain chuckled as she set a giant mountain of pancakes on the island. “Give your brother a break. He’s a good boy.”

“No, he’s not,” Scarlett said, earning a snap from Cassian for her to stay still while he worked. “He swears too much and he smells yucky.”

“All teenage boys swear too much and smell yucky,” Cassian promised. “Just wait until you’re a teenager and you like those yucky boys.”

“I’m not ever going to like boys,” Scarlett promised. “I’m going to stay single and awesome forever.”

Elain shook her head, humored, as she watched her niece.

“That would make daddy very happy and I’m holding you to it,” he replied, tying the elastic around the end of the braid and starting on the second.

“Aunt Lainey, does Luna like smelly teenage boys?” Scarlett asked, looking up at her.

Luna was Scarlett’s idol. Everything the girl did, the younger one was right behind, whether it was a trend, style or even just following her around. And Luna handled it well, for a sixteen-year-old girl. She never complained, even when her own baby sister was in tow. Cassian was sure that because she was a carbon-copy of Elain, right down to the soft, caramel colored eyes.

Elain smirked as she set a plate down in front of Scarlett, a small stack of pancakes on top of it. She pulled the bacon out of the oven before replying. “Oh, she does. And Uncle Az is not happy about it.”

“Isn’t happy about what?” The man in question asked as he rounded the corner, heading straight for the coffee pot. He paused to kiss Elain’s cheek. “Morning, beautiful.”

“Luna Bug’s boyfriend,” Cassian smirked, watching as Azriel’s good mood deflated.

“We don’t talk about him,” Azriel said, quietly, as he filled his mug. “And definitely not this early in the morning.”

“He has a name,” Elain said, simply. “And you should call him by it.”

“The name I have for him shouldn’t be said around Scar,” Azriel said, pausing as he passed her to kiss the top of his niece’s head.

“He’s a good kid,” Elain said, rolling her eyes. “And I think Luna and Lachlan are good for each other.”

“Lachlan,” Scarlett repeated. “I like that name.”

Cassian’s grin only widened as he looked up at Azriel, who sat at the table, sipping from his mug.

“Just wait until she thinks she’s old enough to date,” Azriel said, gesturing to Scarlett.

“Oh no,” Cassian said, shaking his head. “She’s already informed me that she’s staying single and awesome forever, so.”

Azriel snorted as the twins came into the room, followed by John, whose hair was sticking up in every which direction.

“Mom says she’s taking a shower then she’ll be out to help make breakfast,” John said, yawning as he flicked Olive on the back of the ear. She flipped him off, which earned a gasp from Scarlett and a laugh from Cassian.

“No need, your Aunt has been up since the crack of dawn,” Azriel said, nodding toward the food. “Eat up.”

John didn’t need to be told twice. At fourteen, he was eating more than nearly everyone else - followed closely by his older boy cousins, who were, no doubt, still sound asleep.

Lily was still mortified by her new haircut, but thanks to a French braid of some sort, it could barely be noticed. She and Olive got a couple of pancakes each and talked to each other quietly.

Once Scarlett’s hair was finished, Cassian got his own breakfast, splashing a bit of whiskey into Azriel’s coffee and his own when he thought no one was looking, and sat down at the table. Mid bite, his chewing slowed down as he looked at Olive. “Liv, I think you still have makeup from yesterday on. You’ll probably want to get that off before we go on the boat.”

She rolled her dark, lined eyes. “It’s Olive, Uncle Cass, and it’s waterproof eyeliner. I’ll be fine.”

Lily, fresh faced, shook her head. “She’s too cool to be seen without her makeup anymore.”

Elain was chuckling at the stove as the two girls quietly bickered and Cassian was immediately grateful he only had one daughter.

“What’re we doing today?” John asked, his mouth full.

“Ask when your mouth isn’t full and I’ll tell you,” Cassian said, sitting next to his middle child.

“Yeah, John, have some manners.” Thorn entered the room, grumpy as hell, the first thing out of his mouth directed at his younger brother.

“Says the asshole that spent yesterday in jail,” John muttered, mouth still full.

“Watch your mouth,” Cassian snapped, his mouth also full.

Azriel just shook his head, watching the three of them. He looked at Scarlett. “How do you and your mom handle those three?”

Scarlett shrugged as she hopped off her stool. With a piece of bacon in each hand, she said, “We stick together. Girl power.”

Elain laughed, winking at her niece as she fled from the room.

Layla appeared a minute later, on Rhysand’s back, wide-eyed and chipper. Bennett was soon behind, and Cassian snorted.

“How is it that the kids from your side are the ones still asleep when Elain is one of the first ones up?” he asked, looking at Azriel.

“Luna’s probably awake and talking to-.”

“If you say his name again, I’ll lose my appetite, then my mood will be destroyed for the rest of the day,” Azriel said, holding up his hand and looking at his wife.

“Lachlan is so sweet though,” Lily said, sighing, and Olive nodded, which earned them a look from both Rhys and Azriel.

“Teenage boys aren’t sweet,” Rhys told his daughters. “They’re crafty, lying, disgusting creatures.”

Lily and Olive looked at Thorn and Bennett, both shoveling food into their mouths. Their brother responded. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to say he’s wrong?” Olive asked, looking between them.

“No, because then I’d be lying and proving him right,” Bennett replied.

“And we’re pretty disgusting,” Thorn added, shoving an entire piece of bacon into his mouth in two bites. Bennett nodded and was getting up for seconds when Rhys stopped him.

“Save some food for your mothers, please,” he said. “After mom and Aunt Nesta eat, you can get more.”

Layla quietly approached Cassian and tapped on his shoulder, asking if he could braid her hair, too. He gave Elain a knowing look, but picked Layla up and set her in Scarlett’s vacated seat. “Only cause you’re the cutest one here,” he whispered, so only she could hear. She giggled and nodded, sitting still as he went to work.

Nesta and Feyre made their way into the kitchen soon after, with Azriel going to retrieve Lannan, who was still sleeping like the dead. Luna was the last to arrive, claiming she’d slept in, too.

“Y’all wanna make some sandwiches for the boat while we get everything ready to go?”

Cassian asked Nesta and his sister-in-laws.

“You don’t want to come back for lunch?” Nesta asked. “You want to keep nine kids on a boat all day?”

He shrugged. “They'll be swimming and wakeboarding and tubing. They’ll be busy. Plus Thorn and Bennett are taking out the jet skis.”

Thorn raised his hand.

Bennett gave him a high-five.

John frowned. “Why can’t I take one of the jet skis?”

“Because we’re older,” Thorn said, simply.

“That’s not fair,” John argued. “What kind of argument is that?”

“Thorn and Bennett are taking the jet-skis,” Cassian said, his voice holding no room for argument. “You can take one tomorrow.”

“Ooooh, me too,” Luna said. “I call one for tomorrow.”

Thorn rolled his eyes, the only sign that he was annoyed.

The second that Nesta and Feyre sat down with their breakfasts, Thorn, Bennett, and John were on their feet, fighting for what was left.

“Animals,” Lily scoffed, taking Olive by the elbow and leading her down the hall to their room to get ready.

Thirty minutes and almost just as many sandwiches later, everyone was loading onto the boat, save for Thorn and Bennett who took off towards the jet-skis as soon as they were given the okay. After strict instructions to stay within sight of the parents, they were firing them up and taking off, Cassian starting the boat and following behind.

Elain fell into the seat at the front with her oldest daughter, wrapping an arm around her as the wind whipped back their hair. “What’s Lachlan doing this weekend?”

Her knees were tucked under her chin and she looked out over the passing water. “He and his parents went to Orynth. They’re touring a college there, but he doesn’t want to be that far from home.”

“Far from home or far from you?” Elain asked, nudging her slightly.

Luna blushed. “Both.”

Lachlan was a year older than Luna, so college was much more prevalent on his mind, as a senior. Or it should have been, had Luna not already had her five-year-plan made, starting with attending the University of Velaris and ending with a degree in business and communications, an internship under her belt and an entry-level position in a company she could grow at.

“Sounds serious,” Elain said.

“Too serious,” Azriel muttered, and both of them turned around, unaware that Azriel was just on the other side. Elain lifted a brow. “What? She’s sixteen.”

“Exactly,” Luna said, crossing her arms. “I’m not a child anymore, dad.”

Azriel didn’t respond. He simply walked to the cooler, opened a beer, and sat next to Rhysand.

“Ignore him,” Elain said, her arm around Luna. “He’ll come around.”

“Doubtful,” Luna muttered.

“You’re the oldest girl in the family,” Feyre said, as she took the seat on her other side. “You finding a boyfriend is uncharted territory.”

“It’s just not fair,” she said, simply. “Thorn and Ben have had tons of girlfriends, since middle school, and no one has ever batted an eye. I get my first serious boyfriend, and dad…” She shook her head as she glanced at Azriel, who was sipping his beer with a rigid jaw. “It’s like I’m a criminal or something.”

“And you weren’t even the one in jail,” John muttered, gazing out over the water.

Cassian hit him upside the back of the head.

“Dad will come around,” Elain promised again.

“Maybe we should keep the boyfriend talk to a minimum,” Luna muttered. “At least for this weekend.”

“Why?” Feyre asked, propping her feet up in the empty second chair and giving her niece a comforting smile. “He’s going to have to get used to you dating eventually. And Lachlan is very sweet. You could’ve ended up with someone like your Uncle Cassian. He’ll get used to you having a boyfriend. I promise.”

Cassian brought the boat to a stop, effectively ending the conversation and started unloading the wakeboarding equipment.

“Can we ride tubes first, Uncle Cass?” Lily asked. “Tubing always gets saved for last and we never have much time thanks to you guys wakeboarding for hours.”

He was about to protest, even though he knew she was right, even with the unnecessary eye rolling, but Nesta said, “I think starting with tubing is a good idea. Let those two expend some of their energy before they board and try to do tricks they can’t accomplish. No trips to the hospital this year.”

The year before, there had been two trips to the hospital. One for Bennett, who’d gotten a concussion, and one for Cassian…who had thrown out his back, thanks to thinking he was still youthful enough to complete some of the tricks he had attempted.

He wasn’t.

This year, they were having none of that.

“Fine,” Cassian sighed. “Get out the tubes.”

The kids let out a round of excited yells, and up ahead, Bennett and Thorn were riding circles around each other.

Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel took turns driving, seeing which of the kids they could throw off their tubes. Even Luna almost let out a curse - almost, but not quite.

Once they were done, everyone grabbed a sandwich as the wakeboarding began. Thorn was the first to go, which meant that John got his jetski, so everyone was happy.

At least until Thorn wiped out, then he was just pissed.

When everyone was worn out, Cassian brought the boat back to the dock, and one by one, everyone got off to slowly make their way back up to the house.

Rhysand was the last to get off, carrying a sleeping Layla up the hill. He laid his niece down in her bed before fighting everyone for one of the two showers.

“So what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” He asked as he stepped into the kitchen, fighting off a yawn.

Nesta was doing the same and Elain chuckled. “Seems like everyone could use some downtime. Why don’t we let the kids do their thing, take naps if they want, and we’ll start dinner around five-thirty?”

“A nap sounds awesome,” Nesta said, wrapping her arms around Cassian’s waist and laying her head on his chest. From the look on his face, he didn’t think she meant it literally. From the look on hers, she did.

And so everyone went their separate ways. Most of the kids ended up in the bonus room, either playing Xbox or entertaining themselves in someway. Ironically, only Luna and Lannan decided to lay down for naps, and Nesta, of course.

Elain’s alarm on her phone went off, letting her know it was five-thirty. She and Azriel had taken advantage of their alone time and were now just laying in bed together, although Azriel it seemed was half-asleep now that it was time to get up.

She looked up at him, eyes closed and lips parted and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He responded by rolling his head to the side, looking for her lips without opening his eyes. She kissed him again, but pulled away when his tongue brushed against her bottom lip.

Laughing softly, she got out of bed and started getting dressed. Azriel watched her with sleepy eyes. “I’m going to get Feyre so we can start making tacos. Will you get the kids up around six?”

He nodded, tucking an arm behind his head and closing his eyes again. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the end of his nose. “Don’t fall asleep.”

“That’s asking a lot,” he replied, catching her before she could stand up, twining his fingers into her hair. “You wore me out.”

“Hush,” she said, blushing, and kissed him again before slipping out the door.

He heard a knock on a door down the hall and then Feyre’s voice joined Elain’s. The word daddy was unmistakable as they walked away and he couldn’t help but chuckle even as he blushed and covered his face with Elain’s pillow.

Once the smell of delicious food cooking started wagging towards their room, he decided it was time to get up, get dressed, and wake up his kids, knowing it’d be time to eat soon.

He stopped off in the boy’s room first, knowing Lannan would be the easiest to rouse. All he had to say was tacos, and his son was up and hurrying downstairs to help in any way he could, if it meant he could eat quicker.

Layla was still fast asleep in the room she and Scarlett shared, her braid messy from sleep. Getting her up was easy enough. She didn’t require bribery or any tricks, she liked to do as she was told. He just had to tell her that mama needed help in the kitchen and she slipped off to do what she could.

Luna’s room was at the end of the hall. She shared a room with the twins, but they were upstairs and already being told to go to the kitchen, which meant she surely was sound asleep.

Azriel didn’t bother knocking before he opened the door. “Hey, dinner’s-.”

“Fuck, Luna-.”

Luna dropped her phone and looked over her shoulder. Her eyes went wide in horror. “Dad!”

Azriel quickly shut the door, his hand remaining on the knob for a moment before he dropped it, and slowly walked down the hall, toward the kitchen.

He had not seen much, considering Luna had been under the blankets, but he knew enough about technology and the teenage mind to know exactly what had been going on.

Azriel was going to be sick.

He hadn’t even noticed the chatter going on in the kitchen as he entered.

Rhysand was in the middle of a sentence, even though Azriel had no idea what he had been saying, when Azriel said, “Elain, a word.”

The tone of his voice must’ve created alarm, because the room went quiet. Without noticing if Elain was following, Azriel walked into the living room.

He sat back on the couch, nausea brewing in the pit of his stomach.

Elain timidly entered a moment later. “You okay, babe? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Worse,” he said, without any hesitation. “So much worse.”

He quickly and concisely explained what he’d seen, which thankfully wasn’t much, but he knew. Oh, gods, he knew.

He heard the male voice on the other side of the video call, recognized it and hated it all the same, especially the way that voice had said his daughter’s name.

“Why didn’t you knock?” Elain asked, shaking her head as she rubbed at a spot between her eyes.

“I thought she’d be asleep!” He defended, throwing his hands up.

“She’s a teenage girl, Az,” she sighed. “Regardless, you should have knocked. She could have been changing.”

“I wish she would’ve been!” His cheeks were on fire. “That would’ve been better than…that.”

Elain stood. “I’ll go get her. Why don’t you and the boys go eat on the deck? Some fresh air might help.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Do not be mad at her,” she added before leaving the room. “It’s not her fault you didn’t knock.”

“She shouldn’t be having video sex with her boyfriend while we’re on a family vacation,” he whispered, shooting to his feet.

“At least she didn’t get arrested having sex in the back of a truck. So this isn’t the worst thing that could have happened on this vacation,” Elain replied.

“No,” he said, heading towards the kitchen to get a plate of food. “It’s the worst thing that could have happened to me, period.”

Elain rolled her eyes, watching as Azriel stormed into the kitchen and out of sight.

Calmly, she walked down to the end of the hall and knocked on the last door.

She could hear Luna sniffling. “Yeah?”

“It’s mom,” Elain said, leaning against the door. “Can I come in?”

A second passed. “Yes.”

Elain opened the door to find Luna sitting up on her bed, wearing a hoodie and wrapped in a blanket, as if she couldn’t get enough clothes onto her body. Her eyes were red and puffy.

Elain sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her daughter. “Care to tell me your side of the story?”

Luna shook her head, then looked at her hands as she said, “We were just facetime-ing. It got...slightly intimate, nothing was even really going on, and then dad walked in.” Her face fell into her hands. “Too much was going on for him to walk in on, though, I’ll tell you that. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. I just hung up. Lachlan probably thinks that I just lost connection.”

Elain huffed through her nose. “Look, I don’t know exactly what your father saw, he couldn’t exactly get the words out-.”

“Me, topless, showing my boyfriend my boobs,” Luna supplied, her face still in her hands. “I mean, I was mostly under the blankets, but… I think he got the point.”

Elain had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. Usually, she wouldn’t find things so funny, but this was Luna. Luna, who never did anything wrong. The fact that she was just like every other teenage girl, that she was just like Elain and her sisters at sixteen, was…almost refreshing.

She scooted closer and wrapped her arms around her daughter. “Your dad is having a hard time processing that his little girl isn’t so little anymore.”

“That’s an understatement,” she scoffed. “This is worse than my first period, first bra and first date combined.”

Elain couldn’t stop her chuckle again. “I think we’re probably gonna spend the rest of the evening separated. We’re gonna do our thing and the boys will do theirs. Are you hungry?”

Luna shrugged, fiddling with her phone case.

“You sure? Aunt Feyre and I made tacos.”

Looking up at her, eyes still puffy and blush still on her cheeks, Luna said, “I guess I could eat.”

“Good,” Elain said, kissing her forehead and taking her daughter’s face in her hands. “I know you’re a smart girl, and I know you care about Lachlan. But if and when things move past just showing him your boobs on FaceTime, promise me you’ll be careful.”

Luna’s cheeks were blood red again and she shook her head. “I haven’t… we haven’t… I’m still a virgin, mom.”

Elain stifled her laughter again. “I know you are, sweetie. All I’m asking is that whenever the time comes, promise me you’ll use that beautiful brain of yours and don’t let hormones get in the way. And when we get home, we can talk about birth control if you want to.”

Luna’s eyes went wide. “You’d…let me get on the pill? What about dad? He’d lose it if he found out.”

“If it means you’re being smart and safe, yes.” Elain smiled, and took her daughter’s hand. “And don’t worry about your father. I can handle him.”

“He’s awfully dramatic,” Luna mumbled. “He’s just passionate,” Elain said, correcting her. “Which means he loves as fiercely as he loses it.”

Luna chuckled, and nodded. “Let me text Lachlan about why I hung up so suddenly, then I’ll be out.”

Elain kissed Luna’s forehead before hopping off of the bed. “I’ll make you a plate of tacos.”

“Thanks, mom,” Luna said, as Elain walked out, and Elain knew it was for much more than the food.

As she walked back into the kitchen, all of the boys were out on the back porch, leaving the girls inside.

“We’re thinking about having a girls night,” Feyre said, as Elain approached. “Chick flicks, painting our nails, and mud masks?”

“I’m here for it,” Elain said. “Luna will be, too.”

Quietly, Feyre asked, “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll fill you in later,” Elain promised, and went to making Luna her plate of food. She came out a minute later, and cleared her entire plate in under five minutes.

When they were done, Legally Blonde was being set up in the living room, and Nesta was carrying out a basket of nail polish.

“Looks like the boys are going for a boat ride,” Nesta said, rolling her eyes. “Hopefully Cass isn’t driving. He can’t drive in the dark. I swear he needs glasses but he’s too stubborn to go get his eyes checked.”

“He’s in denial about getting old, Rhys was the same way,” Feyre sighed, searching through the basket for a color she liked. “But I finally convinced him to go a couple months back.

Now it’s like I have a sexy Clark Kent walking around my house in the evenings.”

“How’d you do that?” Elain asking, carrying wine glasses and a chilled bottle into the room.

The girls were all focused on the huge box of makeup Lily and Olive had brought down from the bonus room, sitting around it and begging Luna to do their makeup. Even Olive was willing to remove her thick eyeliner if it meant Luna would work her magic on her eyebrows.

“I can be very…persuasive,” she replied, filling her glass and taking a sip.

Nesta reached for the remote and turned the movie up to give their conversation a semblance of privacy, turning her attention to her sister. She whispered, “Spill.”

Feyre was blushing, clearly not expecting her sisters to jump on this particular topic. She settled back into the couch cushions and took a much larger drink of her wine. “I…let him go where no man has gone before.”

“What, like, Victoria’s Secret?” Elain asked, brow furrowed in confusion, but from the smirk on Nesta’s face, she knew exactly what Feyre meant.

“No, Lainey, not like Victoria’s Secret,” Nesta said, voice low enough that the kids couldn’t hear them over the movie. “She let him get in her ass.”

Elain blinked once and said, “Oh,” before going back to looking through the nail polish basket.

Feyre and Nesta looked at each other, before looking back at Elain.

Nesta whispered, “That was a very casual Oh.”

Shrugging, Elain glanced up at them, still looking through the basket. “That’s nothing new for us.”

Feyre’s brows shot up as Nesta leaned forward. “Okay, for the two quietest and most private in this family…you two have one hell of a sex life.”

Elain laughed, quietly, as she picked out a soft lavender nail polish. “What? We’ve always liked to keep each other…intrigued…in the bedroom.”

“And was daddy the one to introduce this…act?” Feyre asked, still dumbfounded.

Elain shrugged, falling back on the couch. “We thought we’d give it a try one day, and it was…nice.”

“Nice?” Nesta repeated.

“It’s not for everyone, but…yeah, it was nice,” Elain said. “Anyway, someone paint my right hand, please. My left is too shaky.”

Nesta did as her sister asked, even though Feyre was still staring at her, minutes later. It wasn’t until halfway through the movie, when Luna excused herself to walk into the kitchen, that Nesta excused herself to follow after.

When she walked into the kitchen, Luna was staring out the back door to where the boys were tossing a football around the campfire.

“You okay, Lunabug?” Nesta asked, referring to that old nickname from her childhood that they all still used.

Luna nodded. “Yeah, just…tired, I guess. I think I may head to bed early tonight.”

“I get that, it was a big day,” Nesta smiled, and hugged her eldest niece. “Don’t worry about your dad. I’m sure Uncle Cass and Uncle Rhys have been calming him down all night.”

“I know, I know,” Luna sighed, burying her face in her aunt’s shoulder. “How am I supposed to ever look him in the eye again though? He didn’t see anything, but he knew what was happening. It’s not hard to figure out.”

“You’re almost an adult, sweet girl,” Nesta said, tipping her chin back so she kept her head high. “Sooner or later, your dad is going to have to accept that.”

Luna nodded and hugged her aunt again. Nesta hugged her tighter and said, “How do you think I feel right now? My adult son got caught having sex in public yesterday.” She felt Luna laugh and pulled back to rest her hand against her cheek. “It could be worse. I’m sure you’re embarrassed, but this will pass, okay? Your dad is overbearing because he loves you.”

Luna’s smile was small, but Nesta could tell it was genuine. “I know. Thank you, Aunt Nes.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

With a goodnight, Luna was off to the room, Layla and Scarlett only a few minutes behind her. The twins, stubborn as always, said they weren’t tired, yet were asleep on the floor within ten minutes.

“Another drink, ladies?” Feyre asked, bringing out a new wine glass as she fell on the couch between her sisters.

“Please,” Elain begged, holding out her glass.

Nesta didn’t protest either as the three sisters finished the movie, drinking the night away.

*

“Fuck, the twins are only two years younger.”

Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel were lying in the grass, a beer in their hands, staring up at the stars as their boys swam in the water, the firelight the only thing allowing them any guidance.

“I just… I knew this day was coming,” Azriel said, his words slightly slurred. “I just… I don’t know. I wasn’t ready for it.”

“Can we ever be ready for it?” Cassian asked. “Boys…they’re easy. But, girls…” Cassian shook his head. “We’re never going to be ready for anything they put us through.”

“I want to find this kid… And-.”

“And what?” Rhysand asked, laughing as he cut off Azriel. “You act like you weren’t a teenager once.”

“I was,” Azriel confessed, then sighed. “But…that was me…this is…my daughter.”

“Have you met his parents yet?” Cassian asked, sitting up and bracing his elbows on his knees. “Once we met Marion’s parents, we felt way better. Mostly because we know Lorcan Salvaterre has the capability to kick Thorn’s ass, and Thorn does, too. But it also showed us Marion is a good girl. She comes from a good family, who loves and cares for her just as much as we do Thorn.”

“We’ve met his mom,” Azriel admitted, staring at stars still. “Or Lainey has, I haven’t. But she said she was sweet. Granted, she says Lachlan is sweet, too. She thinks everyone is sweet, cause she’s sweet.”

“You guys should try to all go to dinner when we get back to Velaris,” Cass suggested, finishing his beer. He tossed his empty can into the pile by the fire. “Meet his parents, get a vibe for them, shake the kid’s hand hard enough to leave an impression. I’m sure they love Luna, just like we love Marion.”

“Them loving Luna isn’t the point,” Azriel began, quietly. “Everyone loves Luna. The problem is…is that I was a teenage boy once, and I know exactly what this kid wants.”

“You also met Elain when you were a teenager,” Rhysand pointed out. “And, you started dating when you were teenagers. You’re telling me that the only reason you wanted to be with Elain was for sex?”

Azriel paused. Then answered, shortly, “No.”

“Then maybe this kid wants more than that, too,” Cassian said.

“But he wants the other thing, too,” Azriel protested, then groaned, flipping over until his face was buried in the grass.

“You can’t make her a nun,” Cassian said, Rhysand grinning on Azriel’s other side. “You can’t keep it from happening. Teach her to be safe, and she’ll be fine.”

Azriel’s voice was muffled by the ground. “Why are you being the reasonable one right now?”

“Because I’ve also been a teenage boy who loved a girl. Because I currently have a teenage boy who loves a girl, even if he makes stupid decisions with her sometimes,” he replied. “But I have to let him make those decisions on his own so he can learn. Luna is smart, Az. She’ll make good choices, you just have to let her make them.”

He grumbled something into the grass that his brothers couldn’t hear and Rhysand ruffled the back of his hair before standing.

“It’s getting late, the kids need to get to bed.”

They called the boys out of the water, handing out towels and dousing the fire as they headed up towards the house.

“Bennett and I can carry the beers out to the garage,” Thorn said, and Cassian’s eyes immediately met Rhysand’s amused state.

“Good try,” he chuckled.

Rhys added, “You can leave them on the kitchen counter.”

The boys mumbled something under their breath, but did as they were told and they all went off to get changed and get in bed.

They found their wives on the couch, wine drunk and giggly, with the twins asleep on the floor.

“Everyone else in bed?” Cassian asked, sitting on the arm of the couch by Nesta. She laid her head against his thigh and nodded.

Feyre inclined her head to her daughters on the floor in front of them. “These two insisted they weren’t tired.”

Rhysand snorted. “I see that.”

Azriel fell onto the couch by Elain while Rhys gently woke the twins and sent them to bed.

Elain looked up at him and chuckled, quietly, as she ran her fingers through his messy hair. “You’re drunk.”

“I am not,” he lied.

“Your eyes are glazed,” she whispered, “and I could barely make sense of the three words that just came out of your mouth.”

“He only had…” Cassian cocked his head to the side, counting on his fingers. “Yeah, I lost count. How many beers you have there, Az?”

Azriel mumbled something incomprehensible and sighed.

Cassian chuckled as he stood, and gathered Nesta in his arms before walking down the hall, toward their bedroom.

Feyre followed, carrying the empty wine glasses into the kitchen.

Elain shook her head as Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut, thanks to her fingertips gently rubbing at his head. A moment later, she thought he may have fallen asleep, but then he said, “I’m scared for her.”

Elain’s fingers slowed, but she nodded. “Luna’s smart-.”

“But teenage boys aren’t,” Azriel said, opening his eyes to meet his wife’s. “I know that Luna’s smart. And everyone can keep telling me how smart she is, but it doesn’t make me trust any guy that she’ll ever be with any more. Men are idiots. And the last thing I want is for my baby to be heartbroken, crying over some dick that didn’t deserve her in the first place.” Elain’s eyes softened, but Azriel went on, “And the fact that they’re getting more….intimate, only means that Luna’s starting to trust him and like him more. And that scares me.”

“I know,” Elain said, quietly, crawling onto his lap and straddling his waist. Her forehead fell against his as his eyes fell shut, once again. “She spent the entire night thinking she’d disappointed you.”

“She didn’t disappoint me,” Azriel said, quietly, and Elain knew that he meant it. And as she pulled back, she recognized the look that was creeping into his hazel eyes: guilt.

“She’s probably still awake if you want to go talk to her,” Elain said.

Azriel hesitated, then nodded. After Elain crawled off of him, he waited a moment before pushing himself up and began to amble his way down the hall, until he reached the last door on the left.

This time, he knocked.

He waited, and when there was no response, he knocked again, only to find no response. He cracked open the door and peeked inside. The lights were off, and Luna was sound asleep, the hood of her hoodie pulled over her dark hair, and the fan across the room on high, pointed right at her.

He laughed quietly at the sight.

Yeah, she was growing up, but sound asleep, she looked like she always had: mouth hanging open, one hand tossed behind her head. She used to fall asleep on him like that, and he’d have to carry her to bed and tuck her in. That’s how she would always be to him: that little girl whose only man in her life was her daddy.

Except that’s not how it was, not anymore.

Azriel walked to her bedside and leaned down to kiss her forehead before pulling her blanket up higher around her. “Night, Lunabug.”

As he headed back for her door, he heard, “Dad?”

He spun around, that alcohol catching up with him and nearly knocking himself over, thanks to the quick motion. He grabbed the doorframe to steady himself. “I…knocked this time.”

Luna rolled over and looked at him. Thanks to the light in the hallway streaming in, he could see the hurt in her light brown eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Azriel’s shoulders sagged as he made his way back into the room and sat down on the edge of her bed. He ran a hand through his hair before saying, “You don’t need to be sorry. I’m sorry. You’re growing up, and that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do, but I’m still figuring out how to raise a young woman and not a little girl.”

Luna nodded, but said nothing.

“It’s hard, though,” he began, honestly. “When I was seventeen, Luna, I had no idea how to treat girls. I went on a lot of dates, and…did a lot of things on those dates…and, if I’m being honest with you, not a lot of those things meant anything to me other than what I got out of them at that moment.” He looked at Luna. “It wasn’t until I started dating your mom that I got some sense knocked into me.”

She chuckled at that.

“But, I also know that Lachlan is not me,” Azriel continued. “I also know that I don’t know a lot about him. So, maybe next week we can have him and his parents over for dinner, and I can start to get to know him, if he means that much to you.”

He didn’t need any light in the room to see the tears lining her eyes. “I would like that.”

“Then you talk to him, I’ll talk to mom, and we’ll make it happen, okay?” She nodded, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, Lunabug. I love you.”

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and he was glad for what little balance he still had, so he didn’t topple over on her. “I love you, too, daddy.”

Wrapping an arm around her, he held her close, not letting her go until he felt her arms getting heavier. Until he carefully settled her back into the bed, tucking the covers around her, but not too tight, because she hated feeling constricted, and pushed the hoodie back just a bit to see her sleeping face.

She looked so much like her mother while she was asleep.

Quietly, carefully, he slipped out the door and closed it behind him.

He could tell the television and lights had been shut off in the living room, so he aimed for their bedroom instead, and found Elain sleepily beneath the covers herself. He stripped off his shirt and shorts, wearing just a pair of boxer-briefs and slid into bed beside her, aware that he probably smelled like a bar. Elain didn’t complain though, she just laid her head on his chest and slung an arm and leg over his body.

“How’d it go?” She asked into the darkness.

“Good. She was asleep, and I accidentally woke her up, but it’s okay. We needed to talk,” he admitted. He paused for a second before asking,

“Do you have Lachlan’s parents numbers?”

Lifting her head, Elain looked at him in the moonlight. “We are not talking to them about this at midnight, Azriel.”

“No, no,” he chuckled, rubbing a calming hand up and down her arm. “I was thinking it might be nice to have them over for dinner one night next week, all of them. Lachlan, Aelin and Rowan.”

Elain lifted a brow. “You’re serious.”

Azriel blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“Because you’re drunk and you just spent the entire day throwing a hissy fit,” Elain mumbled, nuzzling into his neck.

Azriel laughed, quietly. “Damn, you’re mean.”

Elain huffed then propped herself up on an elbow. “I’m serious. If they come over, you need to be nice.”

Azriel scoffed, his hand sliding down her back then up her shirt. “I’m always nice.”

“No mean-mugging the kid,” Elain went on. “You will ask him about his likes and dislikes, and you will not scare him shitless.”

Azriel sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I promise.”

“And you will offer Rowan some of your good whiskey,” Elain said.

Azriel looked pointedly at his wife. “There’s no need to get carried away.”

Elain grinned as she leaned down and pressed her mouth softly against his. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered, and closed his eyes.

He was sound asleep before Elain could even lay back down, and snuggle up to him beneath the covers.

He was over-dramatic, and surely a pain in her ass, but by the gods, she loved that man. He had given her three beautiful, perfect children, and although, sixteen years after their first was born, they were still figuring this whole parenting ordeal out….Azriel was doing a pretty damn good job.

Which only made her love him even more.