#I told my mom and she didn’t get worried or anything and she doesn’t mention it
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pedgito · 6 months ago
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𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader — Series Masterlist (part ii)
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summary | The temptation with Joel is unavoidable, one consequential choice leading to several, but with time, you find that healing is easier with someone just as broken as you.
author's note | I DID NOT FORGET THEM I SWEAR. i know the first part was posted in july and i abandoned my baby i'm horrible. BUT, the writing bug is back in full force and this chapter was already halfway done so PLEASE ENJOY. i missed these two dearly.
content warning | 18+ smut, DDDNE - this is very loosely stepcest, so if that's not your thing, ignore. that's the only warning i'm giving on that, additional warnings: no outbreak, step-uncle!joel, age gap (20/late 40s), religious trauma, parental trauma, no one's making good choices here, lowkey religion kink?? if you get it, you get. fingering, unprotected piv sex, semi-public sex, mentions of deconstruction, alcohol tw, this is packed with so much stuff i'm sorry
word count —11k
PART ONE, PART THREE (tbd)
The tweed sweater is more grating than the sound of your mother’s voice as you approach the doorstep of the Miller’s home. It’s fucking itchy, scratching at your neck in desperation to strip yourself of your more modest church clothes the moment you crosses the threshold. Your mother seems to notice your fidgeting, swatting at your hand with a look of unmistaken warning.
Cut it out. 
Your hand drops to your side, fingers curling into your palm as they dig into the skin. The pain squeezes at your vocal cords, keeping you quiet. Tommy always looks slightly ridiculous when you step out for church on Sundays—starched jeans and perfectly ironed plaid button up to match, paired with an egregious belt buckle and cowboy boots. 
The thing was though, he fit in perfectly. And you couldn’t hate Tommy, it was nearly impossible.
Once inside, you’re already beelining for the attic with your shoes slipped off by the door and ready to strip down the layers of clothes to quell the sticky heat that was lingering on your skin. But, there’s a creak to your left and a voice you hadn’t heard since the night before, under…more nefarious pretenses. But, he didn’t know that. You shouldn’t either.
Your eyes can’t meet his own as he rounds the corner, damp hair dripping droplets of water onto his clothed shoulders. He doesn’t speak to you, but he does look you over. There’s a smugness in his expression, amusement at your outfit like he knows. A perfect, modest length appropriate dress with that ugly fucking sweater your mom insisted on you wearing. You hate it, it was smeared all over your face, lips pulled into a tight line as your mother began barraging both of the brothers at once.
“She’ll come with,” You attention focuses back on the conversation halfway through, sneaking a small peak at Joel’s tired features, scratching at his beard with his other hand settled against his hips, so desperately wanting to escape the conversation, “I don’t need her being a nuisance while Joel’s trying to sleep.”
“She lives here,” Tommy points out, “I’m sure she can keep quiet. Do you wanna tag along?”
“No,” you respond with evident distaste, but there was also the creeping worry of being alone with Joel again, unsure how to approach your unfavorable behavior with him, “I’d really rather not, if that’s okay.”
Tommy offers a shrug to your mother, reminiscent of a told you so, before he’s cracking a joke at Joel’s expense, who still hadn’t spoken a word.
“Keep this loner some company anyways, he needs it,” Tommy jests.
“Well, we’ll be out until the evening,” your mother adds, almost like it was a bad thing which wasn’t nearly the case, in fact—it was a heavy weight off your chest, “so call if you need anything and sweetheart, mind your manners.”
“She’ll be alright,” Joel interjects suddenly, “ain’t never caused any problems with me.”
Your mother nods despite her inclination to make a comment or prove a point and after a tense goodbye and a hug that was far too tight, she’s dragging Tommy out the front door again and it shuts with a deafening click as Joel still remained in his previous position, eying the floor for a time before his eye meet your own as yank at the buttons of your sweater and shrug it off your shoulders.
The events over the past few weeks were clawing at your gut, that nervous and fluttering feeling driving you to silence—girl, always testin’ me—it was a constant echo in your head. That, flurried with his grunts and the sight of his hand gripping his cock. And your teasing words were no better, inviting him in and welcoming the temptation.
You had to cut the cord—this wasn’t you. It was wrong, sinful, the shame sitting on your tongue and bitter to swallow. It didn’t matter that it didn’t feel wrong, factually, it was. You would be shamed, frowned upon, rejected by your own mother if she even caught a whiff of your advances toward Joel. But, he’d lied for you when he didn’t have to and that was more confusing than it needed to be. 
Joel clears his throat, “I’m gonna head to bed, worked a fifteen hour shift and I’m barely standin’ right now,” Your gaze flicks up as you kneel on the couch, settling into the cushion but leaning yourself slightly over the arm, “you gonna be alright?”
You nod silently and watch as he returns the motion and turns on his heels, the floorboards creaking under the weight and there was no chance like now—say it, just apologize.
“Joel,” you say louder than needed, but it does the trick, “I—you lied for me to my mother, you didn’t have to and I’m…sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I know that doesn’t change anything, but I—”
There’s a flickering of guilt across his own face that you’re familiar with, knowing he’s dreamt of you in the exact ways you’ve suggested and while he doesn’t audibly admit it, his thoughts almost project, eyes racking over your chest for a beat to long as they press together under your thin top and peek through the deep cut in your shirt.
“No harm done,” He lies, his eyes noticeable flicking back up toward your gaze and you don’t react, neither does he, “no sense in pissing her off more than she already is with you all the time, right?”
“Right,” you mumble dejectedly, chewing at the inside of your cheek as you settle into the cushion more permanently, “just…thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies assuredly, knowing he’d done you a favor with the expectation that it might absolve him of some of his own guilt about the entire situation—but just as Joel was being disingenuous, he suspected you were too.
Save your own ass and all that.
It didn’t matter and Joel knew it was better to move beyond it entirely.
Except his dreams are invaded with the sight of your tits, pert and perfect as he squeezed them under his grip and he swears he can feel the warmth of your skin, your smell, but the deep slumber quickly pulls him under.
-
There’s only so much to occupy your day, having made a few snacks for yourself and wandered aimlessly around Joel’s home, even managed a short nap amongst his soft snoring from his cracked bedroom door, occasionally looking around the corner or over your shoulder to find him sleeping deeply. By high noon, you’re restless. It was hot. Wicked summer heat. You decided to change into your swimsuit and head outside, grabbing a towel and a bottle of newly purchased sunscreen.
There’s a few reclining lawn chairs on Joel’s back deck luckily, snagging one as you drag it toward the lawn and into the sun, squinting at the blistering UV as you bring your sunglasses down your face and allow them to make home on the bridge of your nose. The neighbors have their sprinklers going, giving their gardens a much needed drink during the non-stop dry spell that Austin seemed to be under, the spray hits your skin gingerly as you settle into a good spot and take a seat, spreading the sunscreen out sparingly over your arms and legs, resigned to the fact that you wouldn’t be able to reach your back appropriately, but that didn’t matter. 
You untied the back of your top, both at your spine and neck and reclined the chair out completely before resting on your stomach, eyes closed to the quiet hum of afternoon summer and kids playing a few houses down, the soft buzz of dragonflies and bees amongst the foliage.
It was the simple luxuries you enjoyed that weren’t possible with your mother hovering around you, but that was why you had so much appreciation for Tommy, keeping her busy beyond her means and knowing that she was happier when occupied with other things—like him, or the possibilities and expectations that would come with their new life when they did find a place together.
You knew you weren’t going with them, but that was another mountain to climb trying to explain to your mother, knowing it wouldn’t bode well and would end in an all out brawl if you dropped it on her now—in due time, you think. 
Your tendency to fastrack through missed opportunities and experiences were your own downfall, but the newfound freedom was exhilarating, breathing in deep as you closed your eyes and relaxed, several minutes passing before you heard a creak at the backdoor. 
But even then, you don’t move.
You know it’s Joel when the grill lid whines in protest, utensils clinging behind you. 
He doesn’t say a word and forces himself to keep his eyes on the dirtied grill as he scrubs it down ignoring your occasional fidgeting and the soft creaks of the reclined chair, his eyes catching the soft skin of your back, the curve of your breasts as press out at your side, squeezed against the towel you were laying on and the strings dangling toward the grass that Joel had neglected for the past couple weeks and he’s only realizing his wandering eyes when his hand slips through the slit in the grill and drops the sponge into the ash, cursing loudly to himself.
“Was I being too loud?”
Joel tosses the sponge to the side and opens the tray to dump out the remaining remnants of  ash from their last cookout, walking toward the dumpster near the gate leading to the front yard, no further than a few yards from you as he mumbles a quiet, “No. Wasn’t you.”
Weird. Your brow furrows for a moment before you reaching for the bottle of sunscreen, taking advantage of the extra pair of hands as you offer the bottle to his empty ones, the plastic cap hitting his stomach as you press it against him, hands pressed tight over your swim top to keep your breasts covered, despite how much the material failed to hide.
“Just my back,” you explain, “I can’t reach it. Well—I can, but I’m definitely missing some spots.”
Joel’s fingers curl around the bottle but he doesn’t pull and your fingers haven’t left either, grazing against the denim at his waist and you sigh in subtle frustration. 
“Joel, it isn’t a trick,” you promise, “besides, with your hands it’ll take like, two seconds.”
He makes a face at that, halfway between amused and mortified. You shove the bottle deeper against his stomach, insistent as you raise your eyebrows.
“Oh, come on,” You beg, “It’s sunscreen, get over it.”
There it was. The snark you couldn’t hide, like second nature with him. He snatches the bottle with his tongue slipping under his top lip as he snaked it over his teeth and popped the cap with his thumb, flashing a content smile in his direction as you settle back on your stomach, pushing down at the strings of your bottoms slightly to offer the full expanse of your back.
Joel, poor Joel, swallows around the lump in his throat and tries indefinitely to ignore the everlasting bulge that grew in your presence, a side effect of inappropriate thoughts and your sharp tongue. He’s pathetic and he knows it. 
He kneels down between your split legs, one knee on the cheap plastic and his other foot planted firmly in the grass as he hovers. It was as close as he could allow himself, a few inches forward and he would have his thigh pressed against your center, the swell of your pussy grinding against his jeans and he wouldn’t be able to resist, pulling at the loose ties and diving into the sweet divine. 
You clear your throat, turning your cheek to rest against the back of your palm as you wait with the cold tip of your cross necklace snug between your lips, a self-satisfied smile growing on your face as the warmth of his hand contrasts the cool sunscreen, a broad stripe up your back from tailbone to neck as his fingers fold over your shoulder and drag against the chain before he’s tossing the bottle into the grass to make use of his other hand, spreading the sunscreen out evenly on the full expanse of your back.
A pseudo massage masked in the way his thumbs rub along the center of your skin, fingers rubbing in the sunscreen along your side, just along the curve of your hips before they’re back up at your shoulders and the muscle is being squeezed gently under his grip.
“You’re tense, kid,” Joel notes, pulling away to wipe his cream covered hands on the towel, catching your gaze.
“With a mother like mine, wouldn’t you be?”
Joel pauses briefly, a silent acknowledgment as he stands, vehemently ignoring the way your legs slip together and your ass pushes up into the air slightly as you reposition yourself.
He grimaces at how sticky his hands feel still, reaching for the spout on the siding and gripping the hose in his hand as the water pours out, hot for a moment as it slips out before it rushes out ice cool, wetting his hands generously.
“Can’t stand getting a little messy, can you?” You tease when you hear the water run behind you, lifting up on your forearm to peer at the older man, his face still frozen in a tight grimace but his eyes briefly turning up toward you.
What a little shit. 
His thumb slides over the opening on the hose and transforms the flow into a forceful spray as he lifts stream and at the chair you were lounging in, forcing you up in a matter of seconds while Joel rendered you drenched, top forgotten as you slip your arm over your breasts in attempt to retain some decency.
The cause of action only dawns on Joel in the aftermath, watching you sopping wet as you stomp toward him and attempt to yank the hose from his grip, the option for turning the spout off forgotten—it couldn’t be that simple.
Joel quickly extends the main end of the hose from your grip with a tug of a smirk and you huff, hard through your nose as you twist and press your back against his chest as you wrestle for his arm, in a wrestle for the hose his arm finds home against your chest and you gradually fall to your knees, tackled by Joel in a manner that is surprisingly gentle despite your frustration.
But, somehow you end up chest to chest and none of the effort is worth it, even as you turn the house on him and the water soaks his clothes and your chest, hose slapping into the grass as you toss it aside, breath catching as your heart raced from the exertion.
Joel makes the mistake of shifting to move, his knees hiking behind the curve of your ass and pushing his clothed cock against your core, only separated by a couple layers of clothes, his denim against your think bikini tied lazily at your waist and his eyes drag down by pure coincidence as he tries to find his grip against the grassy surface.
There it was—his eyes on your chest, your eyes on him, and his cock hard against your cunt in an unignorable way. 
Joel quickly scrambles to his feet with a frustrated clear of his throat, ignoring you like a quick spreading plaque as he left his tasks behind to disappear as quickly as he had resurfaced and you reach blindly for your top, draping it over your chest hastily as you tried and failed to piece together what the hell had just transpired. 
It was like a shot of adrenaline in your bloodstream as you sat up, the world spinning in a way that made you woozy—you turned toward the back door, slightly ajar from the force Joel used to shut it, slamming against the frame before it popped back open.
He could deny you all he wanted, but his body couldn’t lie—wondering if he was running off to finish himself like he had the night before, almost daring to chase after him.
But instead, you hide.
Decisive and calculated, you’d wait him out.
Like meek prey, he’d seek you out if the hunger struck. 
After a swift shower you barricade yourself upstairs, the murmuring voices below lulling you to sleep as you skip dinner—you couldn’t speak to Joel, wouldn’t. 
He lies for you, despite knowing that your avoidance of dinner was entirely his own fault.
Sort of.
It was a double-edged sword, both parties responsible.
 But, Joel feels the guilt faster, easier, and he drowns it away in a six pack of beers Tommy brings home as he and his brother, and his soon-to-be sister in law enjoyed a quiet dinner, the occasional complaint slipping from your mother’s lips as she ate.
“She wasn’t feeling too good,” Joel fibs, wiping at his mouth with a napkin, crumbling the flimsy material in his fist, “I can bring her a plate up later, after I clean up—”
“Oh, please,” She holds her hand up to interrupt, politely refusing, “we’ll clean up, won’t we?”
Tommy squints, eyeing the table full of dirtied dishes but nods regardless. 
Always the yes man. Joel smirks, a flippant chuckle under his breath.
Joel tips back the final bottle of beer and swallows it down, having learned to manage his alcohol well after years of casual drinking that had slowly morphed into a crutch. He gets the buzz, the warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest but otherwise it was undetectable, aside from the hasty decision making to find a reason to bother you after the wrestling match that afternoon. 
He quietly piled the food onto a plate, working around the kitchen and squeezing past the other two bodies before he’s yanking at the cord to the attic stairs, your body lunging up at the sound, nearly jumping out of your own skin as the light peeks through and the hard, heavy footsteps follow.
Joel hears the both of them, Tommy and your mother, as they finish up in the kitchen and trail off into their own respective room in the house, pulling at the handle with his unoccupied hand to seal out the creeping light from downstairs. He slides the plate of food on the dresser shoved against the nearest wall before his head is turning toward you, watching as you rubbed at your eyes, faking the grogginess from a deep sleep you never managed to fall into, running both hands through the front of your hair before they’re flattening out against your duvet, wondering which one of you should speak first.
Both hands shoved into his front pockets, he turns to you fully. He’s changed from earlier, denim traded for a soft cloth; sweats, paired with his usual dark washed shirt.
Relaxed. He looks…relaxed. His eyes are undeniably softer, too. His lips rubbing together tight before his tongue slips out to wet them and he’s still standing, waiting—for what, you’re not sure.
“I’ll eat it later,” you appease his lingering presence, taken aback as the words seem to bring him back to life, socked feet soft against the wood floors but the intent is heavy and intimidating, “I will, I promise—“
You weren’t lying, you would. 
But, then the bed creaks as he takes a seat and your legs widen to make room for him, the blanket slipping down your thighs and revealing bare legs under a long t-shirt, having changed out of your damp clothes too. 
Closer, you can see the flush in his chest. Cheeks warm and hot, you’re sure if you touched him it would be confirmed. Drunk? It didn’t seem likely, but he had definitely been drinking, a deep but quiet sigh coming from his chest before he spoke.
“Don’t apologize,” you began before he could get the words out, “god—don’t, just…”
“I was gonna ask if you’re feelin’ alright,” Joel begins, turning toward you hesitantly, a fist curled and stamped into the mattress, watching the muscle of his bicep and forearm flex with the action, core clenching at the sight of it.
You nod lazily, “How was dinner?”
He knows you’re not asking about the food.
“Typical,” He responds lightly, “your mom loves carryin’ the conversation, doesn’t she?”
“She just enjoys the sound of her own voice.”
Joel chuckles quietly, hand unfurling and his fingers grazing against your knee. For a moment, you think it could be an accident, but as you find a surge of confidence and drag your fingers over his own, pulling his hand up to your face curiously, making a show to smell his hand with a light quip thrown his way.
“Got all the sunscreen off finally,” You joke and the stretched out glimpse of you flashes through Joel’s mind, his fingers pulling at tied strings, the nylon falling against thick blades of grass, “did you enjoy your shower?”
Joel quirks his brow, curious.
Right, he didn’t know. A momentary lapse of judgment letting the words slip.
“You know, was it…peaceful? Nice?” 
No additional expletives groaned out under the steady stream, fist wrapped around his cock? Selfishly your eyes wandered toward the no longer tented material, having caught quite the eyeful earlier—and felt it just the same.
His hand slowly drops to the bedsheet, thumb grazing the cream material while the rest of his fingers curl over your knee, your own hand placed atop it, an unspoken but welcomed touch.
He was losing his mind, surely.
He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t have sat down. 
But, Joel lied for you and that was the first mistake.
“I lied for you, again,” He comes clean, emphasis on his final word as his eye flicks up despite his downturned gaze, watching your thumb rub into the spot between his own and pointer finger, “makin’ habit of it, it seems.”
A soft breath mingles between the space, tight and tense, too intimidated to confront him head on now, shaking your head at his words, “You were the one who said my secret was safe, remember?”
His large hand flexes around yours as he presses the back of your hand into the sheets, held prison under his grip, “You know I never meant it like that—“
“Didn’t you?” You counter, turning your eyes up toward him cautiously, daring him to confess.
Our secret, alright?
It was the gateway—one small lie unfolding into many and soon it would be like breathing, second nature. 
“Why are you still here?” There’s a softness in your tone that beckons a confession, but Joel’s hard-headed. 
So, he retaliates.
“Why haven’t you asked me to leave?” His eyebrows raise, a subtle smile pulling at his lips that was brought up by the inhibitions of alcohol, mostly Joel but there was something lingering.
The words float through your head, climb up your throat, but you can’t force them to leave your mouth, eyes softening under his gaze as a warm, careful hand caresses up your thigh, fingertips grazing your clothed cunt, the wet heat undeniable as it seeps through your underwear.
You can smell the beer on his breath but it doesn’t stop your hand from clawing up his chest and behind his neck, allowing him to pull your leg over his lap, spread wide on your bed as he fit between them, “You’ve been drinking,” it was obvious, but Joel shakes his head, tongue licking at his bottom lip as his left hand squeezes at your calf, “haven’t you?”
“That bother you?” He wonders—he’s mostly unaffected, you can tell. The creeping flush to his face a mix of the alcohol and you, he’s just as in his right mind as you, the inside of his palm reaching further to cup your cunt, rubbing gently with the heel of his palm.
A breathy sigh and a head shake in return as your legs spread wider, hips canting into his touch as your hand falls to your side, exposing your clothed chest to him, breasts peeking through the sheer fabric of your top while your other hand grips Joel’s neck harder, blunt fingernails digging into the skin.
“What are you doing?” You ask carefully, not wanting to startle him. 
It doesn’t even seem to phase him, though. His hand moves forward slightly to push your shirt up your stomach before it slipped beyond the fabric of your underwear and against your bare skin, two fingers sliding between your folds to press into your sticky slick.
“Giving you what you want,” Like it was obvious; the constant taunting, ill-mannered behavior, his own resolve finally breaking and the guilt he was feeling disappearing in an instant now that he has you like this, a clandestine sight, “—s’what you wanted, right?”
You nod, a subtle jerk of your head.
At the notion, his hands are in two different directions—one hand is tracing the chain that wore like armor, a dainty necklace your mother had gifted you when you were young that was the only significance you had to show for with her, your undying faith. He slips the necklace around and between your shoulder blades, out of sight. His other hand slips between your thighs until they’re finding home against your cunt. Absent fingers drifting deeper between your shoulder blades, delicate touches tracing along your spine over soft skin until he’s back at the nape of your neck and squeezing, determined fingers rubbing slowly at your sensitive clit, a stuttered and quiet gasp falling from your lips.
He’s not the first man to touch you like this, but he was skilled. No fumbling hands and hesitant touches, there was surety in his movements and his gaze that didn’t shy from yours in embarrassment or lack of care.
Joel Miller was in the mood to watch you fall apart for his own entertainment.
“Shh,” He reminds you, a soft command, “don’t need them gettin’ curious.”
You shake your head in agreement, a plethora of sins being committed in the act of one greedy and selfish desire, “Mo—More,” You plead, feeling his fingers slide down the center of your cunt before they’re breaching your tight hole and pressing inside. Joel grunts as you pull at his short curls, his tongue resting wanting over his bottom teeth, yearning for a taste.
“Take it off,” He demands, “wanna see those pretty tits, darlin’.”
Your skin prickles with anticipation, separating from him briefly to pull your shirt over your head and Joel, in a moment of blind lust, takes the advantage of you on your back to yank your panties down your ankles and balling them up, thrown haphazardly near the top of your bed as he settles on his knees between your outstretched legs—
God, he’s going to hell.
And you want to kiss him, the feeling so strong it sends an ache down your core, releasing a shaky breath as he squeezes at your thighs before his fingers continue, dipping inside of you with ease. Luckily, with this position, he’s got a free hand to rub at your clit, thumb pressed firmly against the nub and drawing soft, mewling sounds from your lips. 
It’s intoxicating, the subtle smell of barley and fresh soap. He’s speaking to you in some far off, distant place, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets an inescapable pace. They’re goading words, encouraging and bordering the line of patronizing but you can’t commit them to memory, only coming as another soft command falls from his lips.
Because he sees your fingers itching, needy, “Touch yourself,” He murmurs, his touch somehow more tender as his fingers pump inside of you, thumb working quick circles of your clit as you hands drag feather-light of your breasts, a tickle at the center of your chest before you’re squeezing the flesh under your grip and moaning louder as he changes the angle of his fingers inside of you, deep and undeniably precise. Thick fingers keep you full and satisfied.
He can hear your breath quickening, a silent warning when your brain wasn’t catching up with the rest of your body, words a complete loss. His fingers slip out of you, wet slick smearing over your mouth as he leans forward to muffle the unintentional cry that falls from your lips as he pulls you over the edge with a mere motion of his thumb, your eyes squeezing shut as you come.
The pleasure blooms inside, teeth digging gently into the skin of his palm as you selfishly savor the feeling, Joel only moving away when your eyes fall back on him—back to reality.
“How’s that for a mess?” Joel doesn’t miss a beat, turning your earlier jab back on you as you notice the gleam on his fingers, thin strings of slick hang between his fingers as he separates them and you pull at his wrist, knowing that Joel would follow through the rest of the way, pressing his fingers to your lips as you clean him, tongue dragging along the digits diligently.
You swear you hear Joel groan, but it was muffled by your own squeak as Joel grabbed at your chin, flesh pinched between his fingers, “Eat your damn dinner,” He demands, but you quickly muffle him with the fabric of your underwear, shoving it into his mouth before you move dangerously close to his face, still under the stern grip of his hand.
“No problem,” You appease him, “and a suggestion—”
Pulling the fabric from his mouth, you aren’t amiss as he pockets it, his eyebrows raising in question.
“Double check your doors next time you decide to jerk off to me.”
Because if anything, you wanted him to be more deliberate.
Joel’s flush deepens, shame flashing in his eyes for a brief moment before you break out into a playful smile as you sing softly, “Goodnight, Joel.”
Joel’s never had a harder time falling asleep, night creeping into dawn before the slumber finally takes him, riddled with a guilt that is indescribable. 
Breakfast is quiet.
Too quiet.
You pick lazily at the fresh blueberry muffins your mother had baked that morning, watching as Tommy conversed with Joel across the living room, both of them nursing steaming cups of coffee. Your mother notices your trailing gaze, mistaking it for you spacing out as she perks up, speaking from beside you as she pours more orange juice into your empty glass.
“I was thinking we could do something in town today,” She begins, “all of us—Joel, too. Tommy mentioned they’ve got a fair going on downtown—food, music, plenty to keep you interested.”
You slip the blueberry beyond your lips and chomp down, “What’s the occasion? Big news? Don’t tell me your pregnant—”
Your name comes out as a stark warning, the plastic bottle of orange juice crunching under her grip, “That is not—no, I’m not. But, Tommy and I…may have put an offer down on a house, if you’re that curious. We were gonna drive by on the way there and show it to you.”
You shake your head nonchalantly, “Joel was actually going to take me to that cowboy museum a couple towns over—I forgot to ask, but you don’t care, right?”
Joel perks up at the mention of his name, his conversation with Tommy stalling.
“I mean, I’ll be with Joel,” You remind her, “I’ll be safe, won’t I?”
Your head turns over your shoulder, catching Joel’s surprised expression and watching as it slowly morphs into understanding, silently following the path you had so carefully constructed as he approaches the counter at your side, pressing his mug into the counter.
“I shoulda mentioned it,” He lies through his teeth, “slipped my mind, but it’s alright with you?”
She swallows. Tense. 
Tommy interjects then and chuckles, clapping a hand over his brother’s shoulder.
“History of cowboys?” He asks, “Oh come on, sweetheart. Let ‘em go, they can always meet up with us after.”
She folds for Tommy, of course. Flashing an apprehensive smile that you knew too well, eyes flitting toward the pair of brother’s with a cynical regard, catching Joel’s tight expression for a brief moment. You had lied, big deal.
 It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve done as of late, watching the leisurely swagger of Joel’s walk as he steps toward the coffee pot, offering a sturdy goodbye over his shoulder as the lovebirds make their escape, leaving you both under the thick cloud of unspoken tension.
With disregard, he walks past you and sips noisily at his coffee, taking a seat on the couch with the low hum of the morning news as your sock covered feet pat softly against the floor. Your thigh presses against the arm hanging over the couch as you squeeze by, but you’re stopped by Joel’s foot pressing into the coffee table, blocking your path.
“You make plans for somethin’ I’m unaware of?” 
You huff out a soft laugh through your nose before you shove at his foot gently, knocking it to the ground before you’re climbing over his lap, mug screeching against the table as Joel scrambles to place it down, his hands falling against your hips instinctively as you settle over him, tight shorts crawling up your thighs and settling in the crease of your hips.
His touch is intimate—and warm, god his hands were always so warm. Your fingers scratch testingly at his patchy facial hair, a delicate touch that extends to his mused morning hair, untouched and still riddled with sleep. Then he’s inhaling hard as your lips press to his without preamble, his mouth opening in a quiet sigh and your tongue find the opportunity and slips beyond his lips, dragging over his teeth as it swipes against his own tongue and for a few minutes he melts into you, returning the kiss back feverishly.
But, like a fragile tower—the moment snaps and collapses in on itself as Joel shoves you away, a large hand pressed against your collarbone as you yelp at the sudden movement, slightly disappointed as you frown.
“Stop,” he breaths out harsh, his hand fisting in your shirt as he peers up you through a half-lidded gaze, “you—we can’t keep doin’ this, kid.”
“No one’s here,” you murmur, pushing at his hand but it doesn’t budge, so you settle for his thighs, cotton material smooth to the touch as you fingers climb until they can settle near his groin, rubbing your clothed cunt against his hardened cock, a noticeable tent in his pants, “if you worried about getting caught.”
“I know you’re doing this to get back at your mother,” Joel begins, but he never gets the chance to finish.
“And if I was doing this for me?” You counter, “Because I want to? What would you say then?”
There’s a long beat of silence, Joel’s hands pressing into your hips again to keep you still, frozen in place and unable to chase the pleasure you were so desperately after.
“Naive,” He offers, “childish—downright stupid, if you think about it. I’m twice your age and if the other reason wasn’t obvious, well—“
“We’re not blood related,” you argue, “it isn’t nearly the same thing and you know it.”
You lean forward, crowding into his space once more, the ghost of his breath across your lips as he eyes follow, his head leaning back as you move in, hesitant. 
“Besides, I think you’ve ruined all other men for me,” You goad, a salacious grin spreading across your face, “your fingers—Joel, they’re—“
At a loss for words, you sigh, hips dropping against his groin pointedly, he grunts and you can see the hard line of his jaw as he clenches his teeth.
“I’m not the one, darlin’. You can’t compare me to them—I’m old, I’ve lived. Don’t think you gotta settle for me.”
Joel has sequestered himself to loneliness—after his separation from his wife, the loss of his daughter, he was content being alone. Living alone. Dying alone. 
Drowned out by bad decisions and alcohol, he’s found himself regretting his choices once again, but not for the reasons he had hoped.
He didn’t regret you—his actions with you, but how the repercussions would affect you if your mother found out, his brother. There was no coming back, no explanation that could justify his actions.
But you’re sitting, pouting in his lap as your finger twirls around the string of his sleep pants and he knows that look—more, give me more.
Nothing would satiate that hunger.
“I’m not a virgin, you know,” you add as if it may magically heal things, but the next words out of your mouth have Joel squeezing at the flesh of your hips, words that make his cock pulse under his clothes, “I think you enjoy corrupting me, too. My mom put me on birth control the second she was able, afraid I’d turn out like her.”
Luckily, you hadn’t. She’d never let you live that down.
You press in further, a hand climbing up to press against the column of Joel’s throat, lips sliding against his as you whisper, “Do you wanna ruin me, Joel?”
All you get in response is a growl, deep and intense as he surges forward, kissing you soundly to shut you up.
It was a weight off your chest, a sharp breath as he slips his tongue into your mouth as you part your lips as his fingers pull at the base of your scalp, a sharp sting of pain drowned out by pleasure.
“Upstairs,” he ordered, mouth down your neck hungrily, “in your room, now.”
The heated, dark look in his eyes tells you that you weren’t going alone, his footsteps trailing behind you.
-
He splits you open with his thighs, already bare underneath him as he’s stripped himself of everything but his pants, sans his underwear he definitely wasn’t wearing, an unreadable expression on his face. Pinched, his brow furrowed as he lingered around you, hands pressing into the mattress but not you, careful that his hands didn’t stray too far again.
“Should I say my morning prayers?” You tease, your pointer finger trailing down the center of his chest, both of your eyes following the digit until it hooks into the waistband of his underwear, “Absolve you of some guilt?”
“It ain’t guilt,” Joel retorts, dark eyes flicking up toward you, “you really think all that prayin’ actually works?”
You shrug, “I dunno what I think anymore—what do you believe in, Joel?”
Joel chuckles lowly, ignoring your hand as it slips beyond the material to touch him, his cock heavy in your hands, feeling the surreality of the moment hit you all at once as his hips keen into the touch, a subtle gesture as his fists settle into the space beside your head.
“Ain’t never believe in nothing,” He responds quieter, “easier that way.”
You hum softly, nodding absently to his response as you force the final piece of clothing down his hips, his eyes never really leaving you—wandering, maybe, but you have his full attention.
“Come on, Joel,” You squander, giving his cock a light squeeze before your hand trails up his chest, fingers forming to the lines of his jaw as your fingers glide over his scruff, “Easier?”
“You’re brainwashed,” He admits, pausing to slip his hand between your bodies and drifting over your cunt before he slips two fingers inside of you without warning, a gasp ripping from your throat but quickly settling as his fingers work inside of you meticulously, dragging with gentle pressure against your walls, “can’t think for yourself without feelin’ guilt, can you?”
He’s making a mockery of the beliefs you’ve been under for years—you get it, you do. But, it seems to strike a nerve when you dig deeper, unsure why, amongst your building pleasure the taunting scripture slips from your lips in an attempt to rile him further.
“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just—” Your voice wavers as Joel’s attention snaps to your soft words, eyes locked on his unreadable expression, “ and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousn—”
A tight squeeze at the cross around your neck does him in.
A familiar sound slips beyond his lips, a hungry and deep set growl as he breaks from you, manhandling you with force onto your stomach and in an attempt to muffle your antics and silence you, a hand pressed against the back of your neck, face pressed into the soft fluff of your pillow as his voice rumbles behind you.
“Ain’t gonna listen to that shit,” Joel gripes, his free hand binding to your waist as he lifts your hips up, back arched and ass up, breathing out a soft noise of protest as he squeezes at your skin, “—you done?”
You shake your head weakly, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as the full expanse of his hand slides over your cheek, pressing your face deeper into the pillow, his thumb tracing along the corner of your mouth.
“There’s no savin’ yourself from this, sweetheart,” Joel acknowledges, a vague but somehow crystal clear way of checking in, assuring there was consent to follow through—that you wanted this.
“I know,” You mumble around the finger that glides over your lip, a calloused thumb against soft, fleshy lips.
Joel presses inside of you with a low groan, mixed with a tight hiss as you clench around him instinctively, your eyes drifting shut as his cock fits inside your tight walls, both hands drifting to the pillow under your head and gripping tight as he begins a slow, steady snap of his hips in utter silence, forceful exhales coming from his nose as he fucks you from behind, noting the way your lips drift apart when he presses just a little too deep, the skin between your eyes scrunching up at the bridge of your nose.
His thumb presses inside of your mouth, against the inside of your cheek before pressing against your tongue, effectively silencing you, “Go on,” Joel taunts, “keep prayin’.”
Your eyes roll back as the hand gripping your waist travels over your stomach and toward your cunt, his middle finger drifting featherlight over your clit in slow circles, your grip in the weak cloth fabric growing tighter—you make an attempt, unintelligible mumbles around his thick finger, followed by a deep snicker of amusement from the man behind you, inside of you.
“Don’t try and convince me you believe that shit,” Joel tells you, “not when you’re beggin’ me to fuck you like this—’ve never been a saint, either.”
Eventually, your mind goes blank, a welcomed numbness as Joel fucks you into the mattress above a squeak boxspring in a home that didn’t belong to you, in a room that has only been yours for a short time, giving in to a forbidden temptation with a man who’s challenged every belief you’ve ever known.
He notices your attention drifting, removing his hand from your mouth, smearing the saliva over your breasts as he jostles you upright, your back pressed tight against his chest as you move against him lazily, feeling the deep, full snap of his hips as he breathes hot and heavy into your neck.
“Just this time,” He promises you, “no more teasin’, or lying—”
The preaching to you was rich, given his own actions. He must be speaking to himself, committing himself to it aloud. You nod regardless, knowing now that you’ve learned his weakness.
Because, like you, it was the unavoidable temptation.
“Another secret?” You tease, feeling the crest of your orgasm building in your gut as he squeezes at your breast, his soft groans evolving into throaty moans, a boisterous surprise to somehow who’s always so forlorn, an empty house with no reason to hide his deep and selfish need for pleasure, you giggle quietly through the force of your orgasm as you both collapse on the mattress, Joel’s hands barely catching himself to avoid the weight of his body pressing into you as he pulls out of you slowly, the bed creaking underneath the movement.
You feel candescent, shirt barely covering your body as you haphazardly drape it over yourself, watching as Joel pulled his sweatpants back up over his hips, his eyes catching on you in a way you’ve never witnessed, his come literally dripping down your thighs and he senses the shift in your expression, immediate guilt flushing your body and showing in the way your body curls in on itself, avoiding the eye contact he was offering. 
He sees it, the way your brain is programmed to feel immediate guilt, shame, and as much as he’d like to think of a way to fix it, he knows that was something you had to work through on your own.
A shower would work for now, though. 
Wash away the sin until the inevitable happens.
-
There is some normalcy that returns to your life as your classes resume, finding that time away from the Miller household was refreshing in a way. Tension with your mother was unavoidable, the wedding on the horizon and the impending truth threatening to come to light—your mother had done an excellent job as sheltering you, brainwashing you, and scaring you into behaving out of fear that you might be stuck down. 
It all seemed small and finite now, that craving to break Joel down for your own pleasure, seeing the shell of a man he was now.
And he, of course, couldn’t even follow through with his own promise to himself.
Though, as you return for the short weekends, he doesn’t always seem like…Joel.
He drinks more, itching toward the end of September soon and a couple months back at school and when you aren’t buried in the sheets of your twin bed or locked away in the darkness of his room when you’re both home alone, he reeks of alcohol and silence.
He doesn’t seem angry or upset, but the sadness is like a wave.
It makes it easier to keep your distance, something Joel acts like he wants, but then he’s seeking you out in the dark again, bourbon on his tongue and you return the messy kiss he presses to your lips, trying to silence your own thoughts by occupying yourself with him.
But, he does sense your hesitancy.
“I’ll go,” He speaks into the darkness, a hand cradling your head as he squeezes at the base of your neck, a comforting gesture despite the cloud that shrouded him, “if you want me to.”
You’ve barely seen him all day, both of the brothers overwhelmingly forlorn, but you don’t pry.
“No, no,” You insist, hushed against his mouth as you seek out his eyes, glossed over and hooded, his shoulders twitching when your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, “you just—you seem tired.”
It was a loaded word, one that Joel doesn’t touch or elaborate on. But, he was tired, physically. Taking on more shifts before the holidays approach, begging to keep himself occupied alongside his brother who was stressing for his own reasons. He’d come to you seeking a weird dichotomy of comfort and it made you feel warm inside, but a tinge of warning couldn’t be ignored.
“Just sleep here,” You suggest, “I’ll wake you early, before they’re up.”
Without protest, he nods.
You can’t explain how easily your bodies mold together on the too small mattress, like this was something you’ve done for years, staring up blankly at the ceiling as Joel snored quietly beside you.
“Hey, kiddo,” Tommy boasts from the kitchen counter as descend the stairs, making your pass through the fridge before you’re gone for another week, “school treatin’ you alright?”
“It’s fine,” You shrug noncommittally, ripping a banana from its bunch and reaching for the half empty jug of orange juice, pouring half a cup to sate your stomach, “how’s mom?”
Tommy feels the heaviness around the question, tensing as he sips at his coffee, “Stressed over the wedding, all the planning, ya know—“
“Yeah,” It’s lazy and short, but Tommy knows your relationship with her is less than favorable lately, sensing your desire for freedom and answers, truth rather than careful lies your mother has constructed around you for your safety, “uh, can I ask a question, actually?”
Tommy nods, hearing the faint creaking of the floorboard somewhere distant in the house. 
“Is…Joel okay?” 
Tommy seems surprised, but he masks it quickly.
“Oh, he…usually gets…worse around the anniversary of Sarah’s death,” Your eyes wander, clearly missing crucial information but your eyes drift toward the closed bedroom door that was vehemently off limits, always wondering but never questioning, “shit—we ain’t mentioned her to you?”
You shake your head.
“She died about five years ago, raisin’ her alone had always been tough on Joel but her dying…it’s been hard.”
“His daughter?”
He had a daughter.
I’m old, I’ve lived, the words echoing in your head.
“He…never mentioned her, you’ve never…”
“He won’t,” Tommy tells you, “can’t even bring her up to him most days—I thought I’d mentioned it to you but it must’ve slipped my mind, I’m sorry, kiddo.”
“No, don’t…don’t apologize.” You assure him, taking a sip of the tart juice and peeling slowly at the peel of your banana, “I guess that explains the bottles on the table when I come home every weekend.”
And the alcohol on his breath when he kisses you.
Tommy notes the way you so easily call the house home now, smiling slightly. But, he’s always been aware of his brother’s…problem, not sure how to help or fix the situation without an implosion happening.
In the distance, you can hear your mother calling out for Tommy, his eyes drifting toward the sound.
“Have a good week,” He pressed a gentle kiss at the crown of your head, squeezing at your shoulder before leaning over to speak under his breath, “—you should talk to your mom before you plan on taking that offer, by the way.”
Your attention perks up, his finger drifting toward the envelope hidden under a stack of placemats on the kitchen table before he’s interrupted by another shout from your mother, “I can handle the fallout for you, kiddo. Don’t worry.”
Tommy retreats and eventually, you do too. Snatching the letter up and stowing it away in your bag, you aren’t able read through it until later that night, Joel’s unsaved number lingering on the phone screen in your missed calls.
It was an internship at your dream job in Dallas, a flat rate pay out with six months of lodging covered while you got on your feet—but more importantly it was an escape. 
You should be upset at Tommy for prying, opening the letter before you had a chance to peek at it yourself, but he’s sensed the tension for months. He loved your mother, but he cared for you, even in the tumultuous months he’s been around you both. 
You were strong, independent, and far better off blossoming on your own without the hard grip of your mother and her undying but fickle faith. 
The second call from Joel startles you back to reality, answering with a shaky finger.
“Didn’t say goodbye this morning,” Joel greets, only sounding slightly bitter.
You’re quiet for longer than Joel is comfortable with and he almost speaks again, apologizes, but you cut him off.
“Sorry…my mom, it seemed like she was already on her reign of terror and I didn’t…she’s hard to be around anymore.”
“I’m just messin’ with you, kid,” He replies, letting out a soft huff as he sat down in his worn-in recliner.
“Are they home?”
“Left about an hour ago, they’re movin’ stuff into the house, I guess? I don’t know,” Joel sounds disinterested and you share the sentiment, but then there’s a distinct snap of a bottle cap that you try to ignore.
Joel hears your lips part on the other end, “It’s been a long day,” It was the first time he’s outright acknowledged it, which was a step, but not what you needed.
“Tommy told me,” You blurt in frustration, “about her.”
“Listen, I don’t need you judgin’ me either. I get it enough from Tommy as is—“
“I’m not…I wasn’t,” You respond, confused, “I just, I wish you’d mentioned her, at least. Not that you owe that to me…but—”
Joel clears his throat and the bottle scuffs the table, undrank as he settles back into his seat.
“I got my own baggage, ain’t no sense dragging you into that,” Joel defends, “not with all you have going on.”
“If you can fuck me, you can talk to me too,”
It silences him effectively, “I’m not a child. I’m not your child. I’m an adult—“
“Where is this comin’ from? I’ve never said that—“
“I don’t know,” You sigh in exasperation, “It’s been a long day, Joel. I’m gonna head to bed, okay?”
You don’t wait for his response, hanging up on him with a frustrated finality, mad at yourself and him, reasons unclear—you haven’t prayed in months, but you find the urge as the guilt creeps in, wondering if Joel was the corruptor your mother had always warned you about.
They’ll come at your weakest and test your faith, and if you break, you’re just as feeble as the rest of the world without faith to guide them.
-
The week drags and you’d much rather be somewhere else, but you find yourself turning the doorknob to the Miller home and a Happy Birthday balloon floating into the open doorway, a contorted look of confusion on your face as your eyes land on the three adults in the living room.
“Are we celebrating early?” You look at your mother, who’s birthday is approaching in a couple weeks, but she’s quickly shaking her head.
“It’s Joel’s birthday, honey.”
“Oh,” Your eyes glide over the three of them until they land on Joel, “Happy Birthday?”
Joel hates the attention, clearly. 
The next few hours are spent together at a fancy restaurant Tommy decides to treat everyone too, a nice gesture for his brother’s birthday, but it doesn’t dissipate the underlying frustration.
And Tommy, being a pushover for the sake of allowing his brother to enjoy his birthday, drinks alongside him—four beers down and a couple shots later, dinner finished and skipping dessert, everyone is heading back to the car in silence, though Joel does look considerably lighter in his expression, his normally furrowed brow now relaxed.
Your mother is quick to drag Tommy to their shared room when you’re home, giving you a gentle hug that you haven’t felt in months, strange and unsettling to your psyche. Joel relaxes onto the couch, kicking his boots off toward the edge of the rug before he’s searching around blindly for the remote, thumbing the button to turn on the television.
It illuminates the dim room and you find yourself standing there, unmoving, suddenly feeling completely out of place in a home you’ve grown comfortable in.
“You’re quiet,” Joel notes, not looking at you while he fumbles with his watch, twisting in on his wrist as he places a sock covered foot against the coffee table.
“And you’re drunk,” You retorted, the again unsaid but implied.
“Believe it ‘r not, I can handle myself. I know my limit,” Joel responds, “I’ve been cuttin’ back, I don’t need you tellin’ me what I can handle. You’re young, you wouldn’t understand anyways.”
“Guess so,” You reply lamely, stripping off your shirt down to the thin spaghetti top, the thick September heat seeping inside the Miller home, even as the sun set—and you can feel Joel’s eyes on you before you look at him, eyes lingering longer than they should.
There were often moments where he would fend off your advances, quiet moments at home alone when you would slip into his lap or behind him and he’d let you down easily, but he wasn’t always that strong—a weak man with temptation dangling in his face. He’s always been in the wrong from the beginning, allowing any of this to develop and further.
But, you’re feeling vindictive tonight—upset and angry at yourself, angry at Joel—no, frustrated. 
And with Tommy and your mother turned in for the night, absolutely no sign of them resurfacing until morning, nothing was stopping you as Joel’s eyes bored into you and the slow rise and fall of your chest.
He’s always been cautious and safe, never while the house was occupied, only in quiet and enclosed spaces that he could lock the doors—that in the chance you might get caught he could lie or evade and not face the consequences, but even as you grow closer and climb into his lap, he doesn’t stop you.
Your hands grip his hair immediately, yanking his head back as you press your ass into his thighs and bring your lips to his jaw, mouthing against the line of his neck and around, pulling at the collar of his shirt to nip at his chest, nothing but his shallow breaths and the soft hum of the television to fill the air, the solid press of his hard cock against your inner thigh a warning sign.
You could end it here, leave him with the guilt that continued to grow within him. 
You could drag him to his room, ride him over his sheets like he desired, a clandestine sight that would have any man on his knees—or so he’s told you. 
Or, you seduce him here.
He was already nearly there, reaching for you as he leaned forward when you pulled back, pressing a hand into his chest, “I’m leaving, after the wedding,” Joel pauses, the furrow in his brow returning faintly, “I got an offer for an internship.”
“Well..that’s good, ain’t it?”
His hands squeeze at your sides as they travel and settle there, ignoring the obvious danger that the two could walk out at any moment, focused solely on you. It shouldn’t make you feel good, but it does. You shouldn’t want this, but you craved it.
“No, like—I’m leaving that night. To Dallas.” A long pause follows and Joel waits, watching as you glance down the hall, “I don’t know how to tell her.”
“Do you want to?” Joel asks.
You sigh softly, playing with the hem of his collar, “No, I don’t. Tommy told me he could deal with the fallout, but—”
“Tommy knows?”
You look at him with a tired roll of your eyes and a faint smile, “Yes, he does. He snooped and read the letter—he’s known I’ve wanted this opportunity for a while.”
“I didn’t think you two talked that much,” Joel replies honestly.
“We don’t, not always,” You admit, “not with my mom around—and he told me, about your drinking problem.”
Joel huffs quietly, scratching at his cheek as he looks away.
“I just—this isn’t…like, it isn’t also because of that, right?” You ask, “Does drinking make you feel less guilty about it?”
You know it isn’t the entire reason, but there is some suspicion. Given the constant lingering taste on his lip after the first instance together and the several that followed, a burgeoning problem of his own melding with the dangerous secrets you’ve been trying to keep.
“There’s no guilt,” It was the most confident you’ve heard Joel to be…ever. Not an ounce of hesitation in his tone, “We’re adults, we made a choice. But, I think there is a point where we have to realize this can’t work.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
Joel awaits quietly, not giving you a nod but his eyes turn up in wait, his thumbs slipping under the fabric of your shirt to press into warm flesh.
“If they weren’t together—if your brother wasn’t going to be my stepdad, would you have thought twice? If we had met at a bar or something?”
“I don’t know,” Joel answers, unsure.
You sigh deeply, leaning into his eyeline to capture his lips, an unexpected kiss that grabs his attention, his hands climbing higher under your shirt in search of skin.
“I think you do,” You mumble against his mouth, “I also think you were vulnerable and you saw that I was too and you wanted to feel a little less lonely.”
Joel can’t find the words to respond, feeling like you’ve seen straight through him.
“So, let me help a little more,” You soothe his rapidly beating heart with your sultry tone, unbuttoning your jeans with slow movements, only removing yourself from him briefly to strip your jeans and underwear off before you return to his lap.
You wait until he finally got with the program and unbuttoned his own jeans, shifting them just far enough down his thighs that they’re out of the way, grabbing for the blanket draped over the couch to wrap around you and you almost protest, but the concentrated look on his face as returns your gaze short-circuits your thinking, fisting his cock as he slides it between your wet folds, pressing inside of you slowly, your slow breaths mingling together in each other’s mouth.
“Quiet,” He reminds you, “we have to be quiet.”
Easier said than done, you giggle against his lips.
“Says you,” You tease, lifting your hips slowly as he follows the movement, allowing you to lead, your hands pressing into the back of the couch, “I like hearing how bad you want it,”
Joel’s hand dwarfs your mouth as he covers it, eyes narrowing at your pointed choice of words and he snaps his hips into you harshly without warning, forcing out a yelp into his palm as your hands tighten into the cushion, canting your hips as you lift them in time with his thrusts.
He’s got his teeth digging into his bottom lip in an attempt to silence himself, eventually grabbing for your hand and covering his own mouth in desperation, wrapping his free hand around your back and pulling you to his chest, foreheads pressed against each other as you meld together, different emotions swirling as he commits this feeling, and your body, to memory.
Joel feels the familiar, cold touch of your dangle chain necklace, plain silver cross interlocked at the center of it, at this angle it nudges his nose with every thrust, a dainty piece of jewelry that he always took the time to tuck behind your neck—he’s never seen you without it.
He thinks for a moment, considering his action before he’s reaching to tuck it behind your head.
But, your hand stops him, placing it back center before you’re reaching behind to unclasp the necklace from your body, dangling it over the empty cushion beside you.
“It’s okay,” You can sense Joel’s confusion, worry— “I’m starting to figure things out for myself,” It’s intimate, the way you’re talking to him now, voice barely above a whisper as his hips rock gently to keep a slow place, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, “besides…the things I want you to do to me, it’s blasphemy, really.”
Joel snorts at that, finding the sudden burst of energy to snake his hands under your thighs, lifting you up slightly as he scoots himself further down the couch, feet planted flat on the ground and allowing you proper leverage to use his body just the way you desire.
It takes very little time to work him up, a deep growl suppressed behind clenched teeth as your fingers dig into his cheek where your hand is still tight over his mouth, riding him with a clear determination, his eyes softening and pleading—he’s right there and you can see it.
His eyes flutter, hand squeezing and kneading at your thigh in silent prayer. 
Rich, you think. Maybe you’ve been worshiping wrong your entire life.
Your climax comes slowly, alongside his. It’s quiet, a long moment of drawn out sighs poured into each other’s skin, his achy groan a light reprieve to the moment as you climb off of him.
“Staying or going?” He asks after you’ve stood, blanket wrapped around your body.
“Depends,” Your finger dangle in front of his face, watching as he works his jeans back up his thighs, belt sitting unbuckled in his lap, “your room or mine?”
Joel nods with a smile, nudging you toward the hall.
Joel’s dangling the silver necklace in his hand as you exit the bathroom, hair damp and dressed in only a shirt—his shirt, climbing onto his bed while he approaches with an extended hand.
You take it silently, passing it off to his bedside table without a word.
“So, when do we have the talk?” You ask curiously, ripping the bandaid off immediately.
“Not tonight, if you don’t want to.”
Your brow pinches together as he slips under the blanket beside you, throwing the cover back to beckon you underneath. You oblige, sliding onto your knees to lean against his chest, forearm covering his abdomen as you rest your chin on your arm.
“I was thinking about starting deconstruction therapy,” You admit, scratching a fingernail at the patchy and fading emblem on his shirt, “It’s…silly, I know. But, I think it might help. I’m doubting—well, everything. I just need someone to talk to. A professional, I mean.”
“That really what you want?” Joel asks curiously, his fingers wrapping around your wrist gently, rubbing his thumb into the skin, “It ain’t because of me, is it?”
“I think I’ve been questioning things long before you, or even Tommy. I’m telling you because—I don’t know, I guess I want to hold myself accountable. So I don’t chicken out. Besides, you seem pretty good at keeping secrets.”
Joel shakes his head slightly in amusement, heaving out a long sigh as his eyes turn toward the ceiling, still favoring your touch as he continues to rub slow circles into your skin.
“I…also think you should get some help,” You add gently, “talk to someone about Sarah—doesn’t have to be me. I mean, Tommy is terrified to mention her, and thinks you’ll blow up on him. You’re…you’re an alcoholic, you know that? My mom was too, before she met Tommy.”
Joel keeps quiet, chewing at his bottom lip. It wasn’t a horrible sign, so you continue.
“She hid it really well, you…not so much.”
“So, holdin’ each other accountable then, huh?” Joel inquires, eyebrow raised.
“I can forgive your lapse in judgement when it came to me—the sex is…good,” You pause, considering your words, “really…really fucking good, but I think we’re using it to avoid things.”
“Think you can fix me?” Joel asks, with a tone of honesty in his voice, “Sweetheart, I’ve been broken for a long time.”
“Mend,” You emphasize, “you can heal—so can I. I think we both owe it to ourselves”
His hand engulfed the side of your face, the hot press of his skin against your cheek as you smiled against the touch, watching as he slowly returned the gesture.
“I think we do, sweetheart.”
I’ll try, for you—he thinks silently but doesn’t say. It doesn’t matter that his fatal attraction had turned into something of lasting admiration, because that would never work. 
But, for you, he’d try.
587 notes · View notes
starkwlkr · 1 year ago
Text
mother (no, literally) | f1
I’m so happy you guys are loving this series 🫶🏼 this one has a bit of a time skip lol
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“Did you hear the news?”
“What news?” Lando asked. It was the first race of the season and Lando was excited. He had arrived a bit early so he could eat breakfast with his grid mom, but the mention of ‘news’ stopped him.
“Y/n is out of for the season. Porsche announced it yesterday.” His PR manager, Charlotte, told him.
“Who’s taking her seat?” He asked.
“Juan Manuel Correa.”
Lando stayed silent. He started to think of the worst possible scenarios. He knew she went to to Mykonos with Charlie for her break since she posted on Instagram and texted him that she got him several gifts. Did something happen on her vacation? He prayed that she was okay.
“Do you know if Adam is in the garage?” Lando asked.
“Yeah, he’s still there.”
And so Lando was off to the Porsche garage in search of their team principal. He definitely had the answers. After greeting the engineers, Lando spotted Adam talking with Juan Manuel Correa.
“Hey, man.” Lando greeted the older man. “Where’s Y/n?.”
Both Adam and Juan Manuel looked at Lando with a sorry look. “Did something happen to her? She didn’t text me anything about leaving Porsche.” Lando wanted the truth.
“She’s not leaving. She’s taking a break and don’t ask me for how long, I have no idea when she’ll be back, but for now we have Juan and I’m sure he’ll do an excellent job. Excuse us, we have to have a short meeting right now. Don’t worry, Lando, she’s not sick or injured. She’s fine, actually she’s more than fine.” Adam squeezed Lando’s shoulder as he passed by to get to his team.
“Do you know something?” Lando asked Juan.
“It’s not my place to tell.” Juan said then excused himself to follow his team principal.
Lando figured that if it was one thing bad then surely someone would tell him. But he received no answers.
TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY MARK WEBBER’S DILFNESS
The F1 off season was here and Lando had plans. First, he needed to see his grid mother. It had been months since he last saw her and everytime he tried to make time to go see her, she wasn’t home. He found it odd, but at least she responded back to his messages.
Y/n was in her LA home with Charlie making dinner. She had found several recipes she wanted to try out. Her belly had grown, obviously, and she couldn’t hide it anymore. When she went out with Charlie, she would wear baggy clothes, but now those same baggy clothes couldn’t hide her bump.
“I’ve been thinking.” Y/n mentioned, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and eating it. “We never talked about godparents. Do you have anyone in mind?”
“I assumed Lando would be the obvious choice even if he doesn’t know about the baby.” Charlie replied, grabbing a strawberry and eating it.
“He was my first choice the second I found out. But I thought that you would choose one of your friends or costars from sons of anarchy.” Y/n stood up from her chair to check on the mac and cheese in the oven.
“If you think Lando should be our baby’s godfather then he should. He’s a great kid, babe. He’s technically your first kid.” Charlie teased.
“I miss my grid kids.”
The doorbell had rung meaning Lando had arrived. It was Charlie’s idea to have dinner with Lando to tell him the news. Well . . Once he noticed the big baby bump on Y/n, he would get an idea. While Charlie went to answer the door, Y/n got the mac and cheese out the oven.
Lando had gotten used to being around Charlie. Sure, he was a bit skeptical at first, but once he got to know the man, he knew that Charlie was the one for his grid mom.
“Hey, mate. How was your flight?” Charlie greeted Lando once he opened the door.
“Same as all the others. How are you and the missus?” Lando asked, bringing in his suitcase since he was going to stay with Y/n and Charlie for a couple of days.
“We’re great. Y/n was counting down the days until you got here. She’s in the kitchen. Babe? Lando’s here.” Charlie announced as him and Lando walked towards the kitchen.
The younger driver was stunned when he saw how much Y/n had changed. It it wasn’t a bad change, it was the best change. She smiled at Lando and walked to him to give him a hug.
“You’re pregnant! That’s amazing! Oh my god, you’re going to be an actual mum!” Lando gasped. “Is this why you’ve been hiding?”
“Pretty much. I didn’t want to make my pregnancy public until the birth. I wanted to make sure everything was okay. But it’s more than okay. Baby Hunnam is healthy and growing so fast.” Y/n explained.
“I’m happy for you. Wow, you’re going to be a mum.” He said it as if he couldn’t believe it. “Congratulations to both of you. Do you know the gender yet?”
“We decided to keep it a secret until the birth.” Charlie added.
“Well I think one thing is certain. Baby Hunnam is going to have a lot of overprotective uncles when they make their paddock debut.”
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coquitokisses · 9 months ago
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Back Together | Bucky Barnes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader, (husband!Bucky Barnes x wife!reader, dad!Bucky Barnes x mom!reader)
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings/Tags: Bucky being dad and hubby material, fluff, angst maybe?
Summary: Bucky and reader are married and have two girls, but because of Bucky’s work, reader decides to “break up” and have been separated for a few months. (Let’s say that this “job” was when the whole thing with John Walker happened in TFATWS, idfk lol)
A/N: so I’m currently writing a fanfic (on wattpad) and I had this idea, but I’m not there on the fanfic just yet lol so I decided to just post it here (also, my first language isn’t english so if there are any errors or mistakes, I’m sorry lmao)
The girls are like 4 and 5 years old and those aren’t the names I have planned on using for the fanfic, but it’ll do for now.. and Steve is alive and well lol (he doesn’t make an appearance, but I do mention him, like I said, this idea came as I was writing a fanfic so what I did was try and edit it a little bit so yall don’t need context and shit lol just enjoy okay?)
A/N #2: this is my first time doing this so just bare with me please lmao
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It’s almost 10 pm which means Bucky must be on his way to bring the girls back after having them for the weekend. You were away in Seattle the whole weekend for work, but anyways it was Bucky’s turn to stay with the kids. They were supposed to stay with Wanda tonight, but since you arrived earlier than anticipated, you told her that Bucky was gonna bring them over.
You’re not on the best terms. Actually, you’re broken up at the moment and have been like that for like three months now. It all started because of Bucky’s “job”. You always said that he wasn’t being careful with the things he did and you didn’t like the constant worrying about him every time he went out to do his things. He didn’t really see it that way which made you get into a really bad fight and you decided to break up because he wasn’t putting his safety, or his family, as a priority and you didn’t like that.
Which was kinda true. So you’re currently not living together. Bucky has been staying with Steve, or with Sam whenever he comes to New York. The girls usually stay with you and then Bucky takes them on the weekends, but whenever you can’t take them to school (or get them on time) or something on week days, then Bucky takes them without a problem.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to pick them up for you?” Wanda asked while on FaceTime with you
“It’s alright, red, don’t worry.” You replied “Besides, Bucky’s probably on his way anyway.”
“Still haven’t talked?”
“Well we talk, just not about us.” You said walking out of the kitchen
“And are you guys still, like, mad or..?”
“I don’t know.” You let out a sigh
“Steve told you he got out.”
“I know.”
“So?”
“I just.. I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him about it.”
“Well I think you need to.” She said “Just have a little chat and see where things are at.. you guys still love each other.”
And you did. Of course you did. And the girls want you to get back together too. But you just haven’t talked about it again.
“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” You replied and just as you said that, you saw the car lights through the window “He’s here, I gotta go.”
“Call me if you need anything.”
“I will, love you.”
“Love you more.”
You hung up the call and left the phone on the couch before heading to the door. You opened it and saw Bucky walking over to the house holding Olivia, your youngest, in his arms and Eloise was walking right next to him. And the three of them just looked tired as hell.
“Hi mommy.” Eloise ran over to you
“Hi, pretty girl.” You immediately hugged her
“Say hi to mama, Liv.” Bucky said as he got closer
“Hi mama.” Olivia opened her arms wanting you to pick her up so you did
“Hi, my angel.” You kissed her cheek
“Sorry to bring them so late, we just got out of the cinema.” Bucky said
“Buck, it’s fine, they don’t even go to school yet.” You told him “Did you guys have fun?” You asked the girls
“So much fun!” Eloise replied excitedly “We also went to the trampoline park earlier.”
“Oh well that explains why someone’s a little more tired than others.” You looked at Olivia and she rested her head on your shoulder
“Mommy, can daddy tuck us in tonight, please?” Eloise asked
“Baby, I’m sure mommy had a really long and tired flight and she just wants to sleep.” Bucky told her
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You said “Daddy will tuck you in, sweetheart.” You tucked a few strands of Eloise’s hair behind her ear
“Daddy, come on.” She grabbed Bucky’s hand
You all went inside and you gave the girls a quick shower before Bucky helped them get in their pjs.
“Mommy, are we staying with auntie Wanda tomorrow?” Eloise asked as she got on her bed
“Yes, baby, I need to go to work.” You replied
“Can’t we stay with daddy?”
“Daddy works too, honey.” You moved her hair out of her face “I thought you liked staying with auntie Wanda.”
“We do, but we wanted to stay with daddy again.” Olivia spoke
“Well I can pick you up at auntie Wanda’s house when I get out of work, how does that sound?” Bucky told them
“And we can get dippin dots too?” Olivia looked at him with puppy eyes
“We can get whatever you girls want.” He said squishing her cheeks making her giggle
You couldn’t help but smile a little. You loved watching Bucky with the girls, he really is an amazing father and they love him like crazy.
“Alright it’s getting super late, time to sleep.” You said to them
“But mom!” Eloise pouted
“No buts, listen to your mom.” Bucky said “Come on, get in bed both of you.”
Each of the girls got in their beds and Bucky went and tucked them both. They have their own separate rooms, but they’re pretty close and they’ve always wanted to sleep in the same room so when the time came and you bought Olivia her big girl bed, Bucky just placed it in Eloise’s room. Anyways, when the time comes when they get to the point where they don’t even want to look at each other, you’ll probably make Bucky move Olivia’s bed back to her room and problem solved. But for now, they absolutely love being in the same room.
“I love you.” Bucky kissed Olivia’s forehead “And I love you.” He then kissed Eloise’s “So so much.”
“We love you too, daddy.” They said
“Now get some sleep because auntie Wanda is coming early tomorrow to pick you up before I leave.” You leaned down to kiss each of them on their heads “I love you both so insanely much.”
“Love you too, mommy.”
“Now go to sleep or I’ll call the slender man.” Bucky said as he turned off the light
He quickly closed the door once you got out of the room and the girls let out a scream that made you both laugh.
“You’re evil.” You chuckled “Creating them traumas so young.”
“It gives them strength.”
You rolled your eyes laughing. “Of course.”
You both went downstairs and then Bucky went back to the car to bring back Olivia’s shoes and a few toys that the girls left in the car. While you put them on the dining table, Bucky was just telling you what they did and how the girls were on the weekend.
“Liv didn’t even asked for my help to wipe her after using the bathroom.”
“No?!” You looked at him kinda shocked
Potty training Eloise was way easier than training Olivia. First she was afraid of the toilet being flushed, then she was afraid that something would come out and bite her, then she didn’t want to stay alone while using the toilet. It’s been a rollercoaster for all of you.
“No, she did it all by herself.”
“Oh my god, really? I’m gonna cry.” You said with a hand on your chest
“She said she’s a big girl and big girls don’t need any help to go potty.”
“She is a big girl.” You said “Fuck, they’re both getting so big.”
“They are.” He nodded “How was Seattle?”
“Fucking amazing.” You said excited “It’s so pretty.”
“And how did it went? Are they planning on transferring you?”
“Hell no, I told Nick I’m not leaving New York.” You replied “If we were still living in the compound, then this would’ve been a whole different conversation, but we’re not and we have kids now so no, I’m not leaving even if they pay me more.”
“Well if they are paying you more then..” he raised his eyebrows
You laughed. “You know what I mean, idiot.” You rolled your eyes “But no, I’m not being transferred.”
“Then why did you go?”
“Nick said that they needed someone like me for some training.” You answered “It was great, I got to teach a few people about self defense, how exciting.”
“I’m glad.” He said with a small smile
He was genuinely happy for you. He knew how much you’ve missed working like that. Being an agent, a spy, you missed it. But at the same time, it wasn’t really in your plans anymore ever since you got pregnant with Eloise. It happened during the blip as well so you weren’t exactly working as an agent or spy anymore so you just decided to leave it behind for good. Until recently.
“You know, if it’s really what you want, then go for it.” He told you “The girls aren’t stopping you and neither am I.”
“I know, but it’s just that I feel like I’m on a different stage in life now.” You said “It felt fucking amazing, don’t get me wrong.”
“Then do it, talk with Nick and tell him to put you out there, that’s what you want.”
“I don’t know.” You let out a sigh
“We’re not going anywhere, you know that, right?” He said and you looked at him “And how cool would it be for the girls to say that their mommy is a spy?”
You laughed. “They will brag about it for sure.”
“And the best part is that you’re great at it and always have been.”
“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” You shrugged looking at the time on the stove “It’s getting very late.” You looked at him
“Ouch okay, I’m leaving.”
“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes
“Are we gonna keep this up?” He looked at you
“What?”
“This nonsense.” He motioned his hand between the two of you
“This nonsense?” You arched an eyebrow “Do I need to remind you whose fault is it that we’re on this position right now?”
“It could’ve gone so much better, but little miss I’m extremely petty over here, doesn’t like to listen to people and doesn’t care about anything other than her opinion.” He said
“Oh don’t make me mad, James.” You crossed your arms
“It’s the truth and you know it.”
“I think you can go now.” You said turning around and starting to walk away
“See what I mean?” You heard him say from behind “Can’t we just talk about it like normal people?” He asked following you
“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.” You said turning around to look at him
“Well I think it is.”
“Bucky..”
“Y/N, come on.” He sighed “It’s been three months, are you gonna keep pushing me away?”
And he’s right, you’ve been kinda pushing him away. To be honest, the whole thing could’ve been avoided if Bucky and you came to an agreement, but you never did. You were upset that he was going away with Sam to do all these things that you weren’t okay with and you were thinking about the kids, which, at the moment, he wasn’t doing and that pissed you off. That was the whole thing. He didn’t want to empathize with the way you were viewing the whole situation and he was kinda making you look crazy. Saying things like “it’s not a big deal” or “everything will be alright, you don’t need to freak out”.
How does he expect you to not freak out when he doesn’t care about doing all this dangerous things? Was he insane?
In other circumstances, if you didn’t have kids for example, maybe you would’ve been a little bit more okay with it, maybe. But it’s a whole different scenario now.
And you were kinda pushing him away, sort of. But it wasn’t intentional, it’s just that you were kinda petty and there were times where he wanted to kinda fix things, but you wouldn’t let him because you would find a way to push him away unconsciously.
“You made me feel like I was exaggerating when I clearly wasn’t.” You said
“Because at the moment I did feel that way and I didn’t want to view the situation the way you were.” He explained “And I know I was wrong for that and I’m sorry.”
You let out a sigh. “You still went.”
“I know, I’m sorry, I should’ve stayed here with you, I regretted it the moment I left with Sam.” He said “And I came back as soon as I could.”
“And you stayed with Steve.” You rolled your eyes
“Baby, you wanted to kill me, do you really think I was just gonna come and ask you to take me back after that shit? Like you were just gonna accept me.”
“… Well, you’re kinda right.”
“I know, Steve told me you were pissed and that you wanted to punch me.”
“I did tell him that.” You nodded
“I’m sorry, I really am.”
“It’s fine, just forget it, I’m sick of the topic anyway.” You replied leaning on the back of the couch
“But are we fine?” He asked
“I don’t know, are we?”
“Well I’d say we are, kinda.” He got closer to you “You want me to do anything?”
“You could start by fixing the damn back door.”
“Again? But I just fixed it a few months ago.”
“Well I think you did it wrong because the doorknob is broken again.”
“I need to change that fucking door already.” He rolled his eyes “Anything else? Are you still mad at me?”
“A little.” You replied
“Just a little?” He moved his hands to your hips “I can help you change your mind.”
“Easy there, soldier.”
“Easy my ass, come here.”
Before you could even protest, his real hand grabbed your neck and he pulled you in for a kiss that screamed need. You really missed his kisses and just the way he would always give you a peck, whenever and wherever, whatever you were doing, he didn’t give a single care in the world. This man could see you sitting on the toilet and he still would go and give you a quick kiss.
“God, I’ve missed you.” He whispered on your lips “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”
“I did too.”
“Can we please never fight again?” He gently put his forehead against yours
“As long as you don’t piss me the fuck off doing some stupid shit like that again, we’re good.”
“Good.” He nodded before kissing you again
“And I swear to god..” you started saying between kisses “If I see you again that close to John Walker, I’m gonna kill you.”
“I know.” He said lowering his hands to the back of your thighs and picking you up
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masterlist
a/n: should I post the fanfic here? What do we think? Lol (I’ve been thinking about it A LOT lately)
**UPDATE! I ended up uploading the fanfic and here is the masterlist for it lol
Anywaysss, hope you liked this! <3
(Likes and reblogs will be appreciated)
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spliffymae · 1 year ago
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forgotten connie drabble (18+ mdni)
★ *  °    🛰  °. 🌓 •  .°•   🚀
“SURPRISE!”
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY CONNIE!”
you moved to the side once you were inside, coming in behind the man of the hour himself. sasha had been running rampant to throw him an amazing surprise party. and you were in on it, tasked with bringing connie home from work and acting as if you know nothing about what the current day was.
which proved to be hard the second connie got into your car after putting his bag in the back seat. “ahh shit! they got mi cielita to take me out. where we going, mami?” connie was grinning ear to ear as he looked at you, dimples popping below red freckled cheeks.
he was so cute, and you were gonna hate to do this but, “what’re you on about, springer?” you scrunched your face up in confusion at him. you then quickly looked ahead to pull out the parking lot. if you looked at him for too long you were sure you’d crack.
connie rolled his eyes, not buying your ignorance. “oh stop that, y’know what i’m talking bout.” he said as he buckled himself in and then reclined the passenger seat.
with the strongest will you could muster, you kept up the confusion, looking back at him and with a quirked brow, “you got a game or sum?” you asked, knowing damn well he had nothing going on today. his birthday happened to land on the off day for ball practice AND track practice, not to mention he didn’t have class either.
now, when sasha told you to act like you forgot that his birthday was today, she failed to mention to you that it was something connie’s mother had done plenty of times in his life…not as a joke, though.
connie really cared about four women in his life: you, sasha, his little sister, and his mom. so you forgetting his day took a pin to his bubble and popped the fuck out of it. he didn’t dwell on the subject anymore, changing to now talk about your days. however, connie was feeling down on the inside. all his friends had wished him a happy birthday either via call, text, or social media post. have you not been on your phone today?
when you pulled up to his and sasha’s shared apartment, you flashed him a smile but it was not reciprocated. connie was staring ahead, zoned out in thought. so much so he doesn’t feel you turn the car off or hear you call his name.
“con” you pushed his shoulder slightly, getting him to snap out of his own head.
“hm?”
“we’re at your place. is it cool if i come up to use the bathroom?” you usually wouldn’t say anything and invite yourself into his apartment. days when you’d get him we’re days you set aside to hang with him. but today seems to be different. connie wondered if you had made plans that made you forget about his birthday.
“uh yeah, sure.” he said lowly. he reached back to grab his backpack and with that, got out the car. you could see the defeat in his walk towards the doors. he was mumbling to himself, more times trying to dissect what the hell was going on with you. because you wouldn’t just forget, right?
you got out the car and sped walk to catch up, sending sasha a quick text to let her know yall were back. you also cussed her for telling you to do this to connie, knowing how pouty he gets.
the walk to the elevator was quite, along with you two getting off at his floor and going to his apartment. however, before connie turned the key he put into the lock, he turned to you. his eyes were glossed over and cheeks dusted with a crimson red. he was chewing on his bottom lip, hazel eyes filled with worry. “did i do something, mami? you mad at me?”
and oh my god you wanted to break the act right there…but you were RIGHT THERE.
you blinked, “what do you mean, con? why would i be?” you wanted him to just open the door. once he opened the door you could drop the act, you could give him all the birthday love you were holding in since midnight.
connie let out a sigh and turned back around, giving up on the matter and turning the lock to go in. the day was no longer felt good. what good was a birthday if the one person he wanted to spend it with forgot about it?
when the door opened, connie walked inside and turned on the light and was immediately met with screams, cheers, and camera lights in his face.
which brings us here, to where he freezes and looks around at his friends from his basketball team, work, childhood, and sasha standing in the middle with a cake.
connie spent a good couple seconds taking everything in, he was slightly embarrassed to say once he believed you had forgotten he immediately forgot the day, choosing to just wallow in his room as he smoked a spliff.
you took a step forward, hands behind your back and coming up on his right. “happy birthday, connie.” you bumped him with your hip, once again snapping him out of his own head and bringing him back to the present.
the big, toothy smile he had in your car came back, now decorated with deep dimples and eyes watery with tears of appreciation.
just as he was about to say something to you, jean pulled him away, leaving you two with an unfinished conversation.
•  .°•
you were talking to sasha in the kitchen as connie was socializing with all his guests. he hadn’t had the chance to come back to you just yet, but you weren’t worried. you didn’t plan on going anywhere.
“i told you! he’s so brain dead when it comes to you that he’ll completely forget everything. did you see how lost he looked when he saw us?” sasha was so happy that her plan had turned out well. she knew her best friend well enough to know it wasn’t going to take a lot to get his mind off his literal day of birth. not when you were the one thing that stayed on his mind and could pull his attention from anything.
you playfully rolled your eyes, “i still hated seeing how sad he looked. why didn’t you tell me i was damn near triggering him?!” you were nursing your second cup of a mimosa, slightly tipsy.
sasha giggled. she, on the other hand, had been four shots in from when you guys came in. “i forgot. but it’s all good now. oop—here he comes.” before you knew it, sasha had stepped away and now connie was in your space.
his eyes were low and bloodshot, having just come back from a hotbox with his guys in the car. “mami, you really are sum special.” he grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together and pulling you to be flush against him.
you smiled, “sasha made me, pa. you know i would never forget your day.” you traced his lips with your finger, your acrylic nail going along his prominent cupids bow. connie held your hand still and kissed your finger, then moved your hand so it was at the back of his head. it brought you closer into his space, his cologne taking over your senses. he loweeeed his head to touch yours, looking in your eyes.
“¿dónde está mi regalo, princesa? his hands trailed up from your waist to your back, to your elbow and then shoulder. he tucked one of your locs behind your ear, staring at you as if you held both the moon and the stars. “i been dying to unwrap it” his eyes were scanning all over your face, taunting you with his hidden meaning.
“quiero mi pastel, ma. soy hambriento.” he undid the button with ease, bringing you to gasp and instinctively grip the small curls on the back of his neck.
“later.” you said softly, giving him a sweet smile to match. but connie smirked with wickedness, red eyes gleaming of mischief. his hand trailed back down to the waistband of your baggy pants.
“c-con.” you could feel his long and slender fingers pad over your core. he pressed his index and his middle against your clit, sending a jolt up your spine. “this party’s for you.” you bit your lip when you felt him move them in a circular motion, the wetness of your pussy dampening your panties.
“it’s my birthday, right? i can do whatever i want, right?” you were gonna answer, but then he pushed your panties to the side. he had rubbed your lips to collect your slick on his fingers, and slowly began to push them inside of you. your mouth opened, but no words came out.
“oh princesa, did you forget how to talk? just like how you forgot papi’s birthday?” he tsked, shaking his head, “made me so sad. y’know” the force of his thrusts picked up, knocking you back to grip the edge of the counter behind up. “a mean joke you guys pulled on me.”
“pa…i-i can’t be quiet” you panicked, looking at connie with worrisome eyes. he knew you were a screamer, fuck it was what he loved about you. pleasure would overwhelm you quick and all your composure would go flying out the window. you got animalistic when you’d approach your peak, and connie never missed the chance to see it. but today, you were doing your best to show restraint the clench of your jaw let him know you really wanted to get it out but were resisting.
connie took his other hand to rub a thumb on your clit, turning his ears off to anything that wasn’t your faulty breaths or straggled moans. “hm…guess i forgot.”
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thehorrorgirlstyles · 9 months ago
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Opposites attract
Part 1
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
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Find P2 Here!
Warnings: 18+ smut, male masturbation, degradation!kink, pet names, cussing, squirting, little bit of praise!kink, derogatory words, harassment, bullying, public sex, some breeding kink, dry humping
Minors don’t interact!
Summary: You are the queen of Hawkins high, being a cheerleader and dating the football captain Jason, however after spending time with the dungeon master and getting to know just how attractive he is, while Jason shows his true colors one night, your love for the blonde slowly starts to fade away and is replaced by an ache needing to be relieved by Eddie “the freak” Munson…
——————————————————————————
Jason was the love of your life or at least that’s what you told yourself. I mean he was your first everything, boyfriend, v-card, kiss, etc… You loved him and he loved you, you couldn’t be happier, or at least you thought. One night, while your mom and dad where gone on a business trip, you and Jason were laying on your queen size bed in your obnoxiously pink room, while Kate Bush played faintly in the back room of your room, when he decided to express his hatred for the brown haired freak.
“I just don’t get what your problem is with Eddie Jason, he seems nice”. You say as you look into his eyes. “Are you serious y/n, he’s a freak that leads a cult into worshiping the devil!” He looks at you like you’ve just grown two heads. “Jason listen to me… when I talked to Eddie the other da-” He interrupts you, “Talked to him, y/n you can’t be serious, I told you to stay away from him, he’s dangerous.” “Eddie may be different but he’s not dangerous” You look at him as he stares at you in disbelief. “Babe as your boyfriend I’m telling you to stay away from him… don’t talk to him, don’t stand up for him, don’t even look at him… I’m serious y/n”. You’ve never been scared of Jason before but the look in his eyes makes you worry, he must noticed this because he continues, “I’m sorry I just wanna keep you safe, I don’t want anything bad happening to you”. You seriously doubt Eddie would do anything to hurt you, but you stay quiet and nod you head, while giving a small smile to your boyfriend, you just want this conversation to be over with.
On Monday morning, while getting dressed for school you think back to how mad your boyfriend got because of Eddie, but you brush it off because like he said, he just wants to protect you, he doesn’t want you getting hurt or anything bad to happen to you.
When you hop into his car he gives you a quick peck on the lips and heads off to school, not even mentioning the conversation you two had earlier that night.
After you arrive to school Jason gives you a hug and heads off to class, in pursuit of finding his basketball friends. You look around for your best friend Robin but can’t seem to find her in the crowd, so you head to the bathrooms to freshen up before going back out. Just as you reach the bathrooms, you collide with a tall figure. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see where I was going”. You apologize without looking up. “It’s alright sweetheart, I should’ve been more careful”. You recognize the voice instantly and look up to see Eddie staring back at you with a small grin. “Oh hey Eddie, how’ve you been” you smile back. “Oh you know same old same old, still rounding up kids for my devil worshiping cult, in fact we just found a great candidate for our sacrifice tomorrow”. “Oh really” you play along chuckling. “Yup she’s a sweetheart” he smiles at you. You open your mouth to respond, but you hear someone calling your name. You turn around to be met with a not so pleased Jason. “Oh umm Jason I was jus-” he cuts you off again, “What the fuck are you doing to my girl” he seethes at Eddie, while pulling you away from him by your arm. “Oh nothing just turning the queen over to the dark side” he just smiles at Jason’s anger. Jason however doesn’t seem to appreciate it, as he grips Eddie’s shirt by the collar, “Stay the fuck away from her you freak” he spits in Eddie’s face. “Don’t go near her ever again” Eddie just grins at this, “Wouldn’t dream of it”. Jason finally lets Eddie go and turns back around to you. You notice the way his eyes are dark, burning with anger. He grips your arm and basically drags you around the corner. When he gets to a secluded area he pushes you up against the wall, “Remember that chat we had yesterday” all you can do is nod, to scared to say anything. “If you remember then why were you talking to him y/n” the way he says your name makes you want to get away from him, after a while you don’t say anything, so he bangs his fist against the wall right next to your head, “SPEAK TO ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU!” He yells. You flinch in shock, Jason has never dared to raise his voice at you before, “WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU AND MUNSON TALKING!” You close your eyes and breathe, was Jason really yelling at you right now, was he really this pissed about a conversation, you and Eddie didn’t even exchange that many words, why was he so freaking pissed, “I’m sorry… it won’t happen again”. You open your eyes and look at him, he seems to have calmed down. “Alright, I-I just want you to be safe baby, that’s all I want” he hugs you against the wall and you’d think that you’d feel safe anywhere else than in his arms.
The next day you forget about the encounter with Jason and go on with your day like normal, going to English class with Robin, doing your cheer routine with Chrissy, during cheer practice, having lunch with your boyfriend, and having physics with Eddie Munson… wait having physics with Munson. As you round the corner for your physics class, you start to grow worry. The teacher recently paired the students up to work on a project and you, of course, got paired to be with Eddie. At first you thought it would be a fun experience, getting to know more about the metal head, but now, after Jason’s warning yesterday, you were terrified. Of course you liked Eddie, I mean you two got on quick a lot, considering how you were you and he was he, but Jason made you distance yourself from a potential friend and you didn’t want to find out what would happen if you were to break the distancing, for your sake and his. When you got to the door, you could see Eddie writing something down in his notes, probably working on his new campaign, you smiled at the thought. You were about to go and sit next to him, when Jason’s voice repeated in your head, so instead you decided to skip, it was the last period of the day anyways.
When you got home, you sat on your bed and wondered what things would be like if Jason wasn’t your boyfriend. You couldn’t imagine life without him, but with the way he was starting to act, it made you scared and a girl should never be scared of the one that’s supposed to love you the most, but maybe that’s it, maybe Jason loves you too much.
Friday comes around and everything has gone back to normal, except for the fact that you haven’t been attending your last period class. You know you owe Eddie and explanation, I mean he is trying to graduate this year and so are you, so you make your way to the place you know he will be.
When you get to the door, where hellfire is held, you pause, should you really be doing this, if Jason found out, you don’t even wanna think about it, but then you think about Eddie and about how nice he’s been too you, how funny and sarcastic he can be in class, how he always asks for your help on assignments, how he isn’t afraid to speak his mind, and how he doesn’t let anyone speak bad about you, not even his club members. Eddie has been nothing but kind to you and here you are blowing him off because of your possessive boyfriend, so to hell with what he cares, you are going to apologize to Eddie. Just as your about to open the door Jason walks down the hall with Patrick and chance. You mentally scream, if he saw you standing outside the hellfire door, you wouldn’t hear the end of it, so you open the door and run inside without looking back.
You hold your breathe as you hear them pass by and exhale with relief. “Umm hello” your head shoots up at the voice, Dustin you believe his name is speaks, “We’re kind of in the middle of a game here” he looks at you. You look around the room, realizing everyone stoped what there doing to look at you. You blush, you didn’t even consider to think that Eddie would be having a campaign going, “Oh right, I’m sorry” you go to leave, wanting to be gone, this was so embarrassing. As you go to turn the knob, Eddie speaks up, “Wait” you turn around and look into his eyes, he stares back and clears his throat, “Uh did you need something… what did you want” you look at him silently praying that he’ll take the hint that you want to talk in private. He looks back at you and then at his friends, “Give me five minutes” in says to them, you hear them all groan in protest, but he’s already up and out of his throne, as he calls it.
When you go out the room you start to realize how nervous you are. Eddie looks at you patiently waiting for you to speak. “I just wanted to come and apologize to you for not showing up to class… I know how much you want to, how hard your trying to graduate this year and me not being there isn’t helping, since we have to work on it together and all”you look up at him and he smiles at you. “It’s not your fault, it’s alright y/n, however I do miss you, physics is so boring without you there to laugh at my god awful jokes” you chuckle with him, god did you miss those jokes. “I’ll be there tomorrow and we can get right back to it” you make up your mind, Jason doesn’t have the right to tell you who you can’t and can speak to, he would just have to deal with it you decide. “Great I can’t wait sweetheart” he grins at you and you smile back blushing. Finally things are actually back to normal. Eddie bids you farewell and goes back to hellfire, you turn around and go to leave school. Just as you turn around and walk a little to the front doors, you see your boyfriend standing there with his arms crossed. You gulp, did he just get here or was he standing there for a long time, how much of that did he see? Telling by the look on his face, he saw all of it…
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loveandmurders · 30 days ago
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Red string and crimson hands (Poly!Sinclair brothers x f!reader) - Part III
Hi everyone, this is the third part of this new soulmate AU requested by @mrstargayen09 . You can find part 1 here and part 2 here.
Hope you'll enjoy <3
Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of sexual activities, morally grey reader,
You went back to your car, took your bag and entered the Sinclair house.
You didn’t remember the place, but it seemed your body knew it by heart, because you easily found “your” room. You put your stuff there and grabbed what you needed for a shower. It did feel good to wash yourself. You took your time, because now you didn’t need to rush.
For a brief moment, you watched yourself in the mirror, and you hoped that your soulmates enjoyed what they were seeing. It was strange for you to have that kind of thoughts, as you never really cared about what men could think of your body. You shook your head and tried to remind yourself that they were very happy to see you, hence it meant they were happy to get back all of you.
Once back in your room, you noticed your parents tried to call you. You decided to call them back and they answered the phone right away.
“Hey mom, hey dad” you greeted them
“Y/N, oh my god, we were so worried when you didn’t answer. Are you alright? Where are you?” your mother asked
“I’m at Ambrose with the Sinclairs, my soulmates” you replied
“Gosh, why did you need to do that?” your father asked
“Fate was asking for it and… well yes, they aren’t good people and at first sight, they don’t deserve a second chance but… But maybe they were good enough partners to me before and… I don’t know, it feels right to be there, even though… If the red string wasn’t there…” you trailed off
“You would have run away.” your father finished
“Yeah. But don’t worry about me. I’ll leave if it doesn’t work” you promised
“You need to keep in touch with us. I understand if you don’t want to talk about what’s going on in this awful place, but you need to tell us if you’re in danger or if you’re threatened.” your mother told you
“I will” you promised again
“You’re an adult and we can’t stop you, obviously. You have the right to make your own choices, but if we don’t get news from you for a day, we’ll call the police” your father warned you
“Sounds like a plan. I don’t think they want to hurt me. They seemed pretty relieved to see me actually” you admitted
“You say that because you didn’t witness them doing something that awful” your mother said and you cringed, something might be wrong with you.
“I need to go, talk to you soon” you put an end to the conversation before you could question yourself too much.
You should have ran, but you didn’t.
You slightly jumped when someone knocked at your door. You tried to calm down before reaching for the knob. You found yourself right in front of Bo Sinclair. The sudden proximity definitively did something to you, and you hated how attractive you found him. You did your best to not give anything away as he was carefully eyeing you. His eyes found your lips a few times and you thought he wasn’t a very subtle guy. It was obvious he was liking what he was seeing too.
“All good?” he finally asked you and you nodded “Hungry?”
“Starving” you admitted
“Come downstairs with me then, I’ll fix us somethin’” he replied and you followed him and the red string.
You entered in the kitchen and was greeted by a cute dog you hadn’t seen before. You knelt down and petted her, cooing at her. Lester told you she was called Jonesy as the three men were watching you with a little smile: you were too adorable for your own good.
You finally settled at the kitchen table that was already dressed, Jonesy as your feet. Lester sat down in front of you, and Vincent leaned against the wall. He didn’t dare coming closer to you, probably uneasy because of the mask he was wearing. He looked self conscious and it pained you. 
Bo busied himself with the food. He decided on doing one of your favourite recipes, well at least back in the time it was. Not that you probably remembered, but it felt good to cook it again for you.
“So ya really ain’t rememberin’ anythin’?” Lester finally asked and you felt like his two brothers were also very attentive to your answer
“I’ve got some flashes since I’ve arrived there, but nothing more.” you replied
“What flashes?” Lester kept asking
“I saw Vincent sculpting for the House of Wax, I think. I saw you giving me cool rocks and I saw Bo telling me about tools” you recalled but you noticed how tensed the three men got at the mention of the House of Wax
“Oh yeah, Vince’st the artist of the family, I’ve always liked nature and Bo is a mech now” Lester told you, you hummed in thought
“And so what’s going on here now?” you asked
“How so?” Bo asked
“Oh come on, it’s a freaking ghost town and I’ve literally seen you slaughtering people” you exclaimed “And you don’t want me to go to the basement, so I guess there’s more dead bodies… But why would you keep the bodies?” you thought out loud
“Never said we kept the bodies” Bo instantly replied and you fell silent for a little while
“My parents will call the cops if I don’t answer them for a day” you told them and Bo shot you a glance
“Vince and I were wonderin’ if they knew ya were there.” he hummed “But ya’ve really got nothin’ to worry ‘bout us” Bo replied
Vincent placed a hand on Lester’s shoulder to get his attention. He signed something to his little brother so Lester could translate to you:
“So Vince said that if ya felt pulled back here, it’s the same for us. Ya’re our soulmate and we’d never hurt ya” 
“Really? So why didn’t you try and find me then?” you asked “You don’t look like the kind of guys who would have stopped until they got their soulmate back” you commented and they all felt pretty uneasy
Vincent signed again and Lester translated:
“We’ve got work here. We need to take care of the House of Wax, ‘cause this’s our legacy. We really wanted to find ya but we couldn’t”
“So you won’t hurt me but I’m not that important either” you replied and the three men instantly reacted at your words, it was as if they had been shot in the heart.
“Of course, ya’re important!” Lester exclaimed and reached for your hand on the table, gently squeezing your fingers, before moving away to not overwhelm you, but you didn’t mind his touch
“We were hopin’ ya’d come back to us so we could show ya how much we love ya” Bo added as he started to put food in your plate and then on his brothers’ and finally on his own.
“What will you do if you fail to convince me I should stay?” you asked
The silence following your question was deafening.
“Maybe I should have listened to my parents” you finally said as the twins settled at the kitchen table as well
Bo reached for your hand and brought it to his lips. It was such a tender and familiar gesture that you didn’t move away. You could tell he had done this countless times before and it brought you a lot of warmth.
“We’re good servants to the devil, so he granted us another chance with our soulmate. We won’t fuck it up” Bo promised you and you raised an eyebrow as you got your hand back
You turned toward Lester who had watched the scene with great interest. He clearly was hopeful, because you had let Bo touch and kiss your skin like before. On the other hand, Vincent was looking down. You could sense jealousy burning from him, but you weren’t too sure why. 
You all started to eat in silence. You closed your eyes for a few seconds as you enjoyed the taste. You hummed in satisfaction and thanked Bo, who proudly smiled at you. He didn’t comment that you used to eat that meal all the time, but he was happy he was already proving to you that he could look after you.
You then noticed that Vincent had just removed enough of his mask so he could reach his mouth. You barely could see scared and red skin; you guessed he was hiding his deformity beneath the mask. It made you feel bad. Actually it was driving you crazy that your soulmates could be uneasy around you. You needed to address the subject right away:
“You’re my soulmate, Vincent. I can’t believe that my child or teenage self ever judged you for whatever you’re hiding behind your mask. I promise you this hasn’t changed.” you said and it surprised the three men. “Of course if you prefer to keep your mask, that’s okay too.” you added as the masked man had stopped eating.
He looked for your eyes to make sure you were saying the truth, and when he was positive you were alright with him removing his mask, he did. You hummed in approval and you both resumed eating. You didn’t stare at him but you saw his face almost fully, despite his hair. You recognised it, you could also remember how it felt to touch his skin under your fingertips. You had to resist the urge to stroke his cheek. You also understood why he had felt so jealous before: Bo was the perfect twin who could so easily seduce you, when he was the broken twin who had to hide away in the shadows.
“So what’s going on here?” you asked again and Lester couldn’t suppress a little laugh while Vincent let out an amused sound and Bo smirked “What?” you groaned
“Still so stubborn” Bo commented
“I guess I’ll have to go down in the basement then” you replied
“Why are ya so eager ‘bout findin’ out the darkest part of it?” Bo asked you seriously this time “Can’t ya just relax and let us show ya everythin’ we can do for ya?”
Vincent signed again and Lester translated:
“Yes, why goin’ directly to the part that made ya leave?”
“Ok, fine, fair enough” you finally agreed and the three men relaxed “What kind of relationships we used to have then? I was what 18 when I left, so I guess we were lovers or whatever” you asked
“Vince and I were 20 when you left, and Lester 17. We’ve known each other since kindergarten and we’ve always been inseparable” Bo replied and you could tell the man was a lot more at ease to speak about that kind of things
“And yes we were all three of us, your lovers. Of course, we couldn’t make anythin’ official but everyone knew ya were ours” Lester continued
Vincent signed again but you guessed with the way he was looking at you what he meant.
“And you were mine” you hummed and Vincent nodded “And so I’ve never enjoyed anyone else and you never flirted with any other girls?” you asked, they all instantly shook their heads “Seriously? Wow, we were all super intense” you chuckled
“Life’s shit and ya’re the only good thing we ever had. So yeah, we only wanted ya” Bo admitted
“And we tried our best so ya could only want us. We did well for a while” Lester hummed
“You scared off any pretendants away anyway I suppose” you hummed and the twins shared a look
“Well, no one would’ve treated ya good enough, love” Bo replied and you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling before rolling your eyes at the man.
Until it hit you, you had a very similar conversation with them before. Bo had delivered you a line like that, and you had reacted the same way. You saw the way the three men were currently looking at you: you might have forgotten who they were, but you were still the same. They were more than eager to get you back. 
They knew they would rather die than fail in making you fall in love with them again. Fuck, they needed your soft touch and your endearing teasings, they needed to be allowed to be intimate with you again. They wanted to tell you everything, they wanted to look after you, they wanted to wake up in the middle of the night and be able to come and cuddle with you. They needed your love or they would go insane and would burn the whole world down. Their goddess was back home and they never thought it would be the case, so they couldn’t lose you again.
On the other hand, you couldn’t help but still be curious about why you left and decided to never come back to them. So far, despite their violence and bloodlust, they have been good to you. You were certain to have a good instinct, and you weren’t in danger with them. You were feeling quite safe, on the contrary. Of course, you could understand that your past self refused to live with killers, but they seemed in love enough with you to have agreed to do anything for you.
You also started to question yourself when it suddenly hit you: why weren’t you feeling sorry for the people who got killed just before you arrived? 
You even saw them getting beaten and slaughtered under your own eyes, so why couldn't you find in yourself to care about them?
--
Part 4
--
Taglist: @staley83 - @joyfulllittlething - @qardasngan
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orpheuswasmine · 9 months ago
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More Amnesia Bill AU
Amnesia Bill! I think it is a really bittersweet idea. I imagine they were going to do their ritual thing to get rid of him but after the ritual fails they opp on trying to kill him. Fortunately, no one can really bring themselves to kill him, since he’s so lost and confused about everything. Genieuly helpless and everyone just takes pity.
I said in my last post he would remember some things via dreams and shit, but I think the only thing he would remember in the start would be his parents. Can you imagine Ford mentally preparing himself to kill Bill, just to hear him talk about his parents so suddenly? I don’t think he would say a lot, but just like, “I was close with my mom. I don’t know where she is,” or something like that.
More about the whole regaining memories bit by bit, I swear up and down he would have a meltdown in the middle of the night because he regained the memory that HE DESTROYED HIS DIMENSION. Even though he keeps getting told it’s just a nightmare, it definitely wasn’t just a nightmare, he’s reliving the worst of the worst every night.
Slow a burn story. I fw the whole enemies to lovers but in this case, it’s a one-sided enemies shit. Ford (and everyone else as mentioned in the last post) hates Bill—Ford shows it, whether subtly or outright, he leans more into the subtleness of it all. After a while, he does realize Bill is genuinely powerless and not faking shit. He would be more sympathetic, but he definitely will still harbor the animosity for a while; however, Bill definitely fell in love during the time Ford was more sympathetic to him.
The start between them is like, Bill wanted to be friends with Ford because he seemed to know him like the back of his hand. Bill doesn’t have romantic feelings for Ford in the start, rather just this kind of desperation to cling to anything or anyone that can help him remember something, anything. Ford definitely didn’t like him, and any time Bill tried interacting with him, he either ignored him or walked away. Avoidance is key, but he can’t avoid the man forever. Eventually, they start to talk—more like Bill does the talking—Ford becomes a lot more invested whenever Bill talks about his memories. There were definitely times he got a bit worried Bill would remember their time together.
Bill's continuous nightmares would get so bad, Ford decided to stay with him for a night.
Last post, I said Mabel would be the only one to believe Bill, loosely. She shows her sympathy to him early on, but she’s still super weary of him. he helped him settle in a bit and when he needed to cry and tell someone about a new memory he regained, he’d always tell Mabel. Like his parents. A small conversation like this perchance?
“I wanted to show them the stars, that’s all I wanted. No one knew what I was talking about then. I wonder if they can see the stars now.”
“I’m sure they can now—hey, maybe they see you right now? I bet your parents would be happy to see where you are right now.”
“You reallY think they can see me?”
“Oh definitely. With your looks and personality, how can they miss you?”
While everyone is weary of Bill and lowkey trying to get rid of him, Bill is enjoying his time bonding with Mabel, even if she sometimes slips up and shows her suspicions towards him.
Bill's relationship with Stanley and Dipper is really rough. Like, genuinely, they don’t hide the fact they don’t like him, especially Dipper. Bill could be sweeping and then Dipper is in the back praying for his downfall. Dipper definitely shuns him and on some bad days, he does lash out at Bill. I don’t think their relationship would get super better over time, rather, I think it would become something like tolerance. As much as Dipper hates him, he doesn’t really have much of a say in what happens. He doesn’t show his hate toward him too much, occasionally they can have a decent conversation, but when push comes to shove, Dipper will definitely lash out at Bill again.
The same can be said about Stan, though I do think he would somewhat come around to like Bill. Not by much, just a bit. Just like Dipper, he would lash out, but he took a more teasing approach towards Bill, knowing it would definitely annoy the demon. Even if it went over Bill’s head, he definitely sensed him getting really agitated about it. He messes with Bill more so, his way of letting out his hate for him. Bill can tell Stan doesn’t like him, but he rather have to deal with stan’s antics than to be ignored all the time.
That's all for tonight gang BYEE
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greynatomy · 2 years ago
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football or football?
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lucy bronze x reader
lucy won the very close poll.
been seeing the whole taylor swift and travis kelce thing on tiktok and got this idea.
this became longer than Iithought it’d be. was supposed to be a ficlet. oh, well.
let me know what you think!
-grey
———
For the past two weeks, you’ve been trending on twitter. At first you don’t know what it’s about, but your publicist caught you up saying how there’s a footballer — American footballer — who keeps mentioning you in interviews and on his podcast. It was honestly getting pretty annoying, not just to you, but also to your very jealous girlfriend.
You’d both decided to keep your relationship private, with you being a popular musician and your girlfriend being a top footballer in the league. Except, the media has been labeling your relationship as friends, best friends who support each other. Never once has there been an article where you both are speculated to be dating.
You’ve both been fun with it, being able to not have to hide anything, but with the whole Travis Kelce using your name to stay relevant to the media, your girlfriend is getting fed up.
“I don’t know why he keeps bringing you up? Not once have you mentioned him on anything. ‘The ball is in your court?’ Like what does that mean?” Lucy rambles.
“Honestly, I’m getting tired of it too. I’ve been so busy with touring that I didn’t even know about it until Sarah told me.” You reply, cuddling up to her on the bed, your head on her chest.
“Did Sarah tell you what you should do?”
“Sarah’s pretty much fed up like the both of us so she said it’s up to me. She doesn’t care if I tell him to fuck off, I’d do it anyway without telling her.”
“Didn’t you say he invited you to a game?”
“Yeah, he did. Why?” You we’re getting skeptical with the way Lucy has a smirk and mischievous look on her face.
“Don’t you think it’s time for us to come out, no?”
“Been together four years. Probably long overdue.”
“Well you better tell him that you’d love to accept that invitation, with a plus one of course.”
“I’m liking the way you think.”
———
Now a week later, you and Lucy were dressed up in red, arriving at Arrowhead Stadium. Lucy had a red England bucket hat on that she took off your head. You were being escorted to the friends and family box by security, running into people who recognized you. One hand holding Lucy’s the other waving to people as you passed.
Walking into the box, you were met with lots of people, Travis’ mom was the one to come and greet you.
“It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Kelce.”
“Oh, please call me Donna. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m a big fan of your music, been wanting to meet you ever since Travis said that you’d both started talking.”
“That’s so nice of you, thank you, but unfortunately all the conversations your son had with me are one sided. I’ve never once entertained anything he said. The only time I’ve texted back was to tell him I’d love to attend a game. Never been to an American Football game before.”
“Really? My son said you guys were getting along.”
“Unfortunately for him, we haven’t. But I’d like to introduce you to my partner Lucy.”
“Oh, it’s very nice to meet you as well Lucy. I’m sorry if my son cause any trouble between the two of you.”
“It’s no worries at all. Excited to watch the game.”
“You’ve got an accent. Where are you from?”
“From England.”
“Yeah, I’m a sucker for accents. But let’s not let the situation get in the way and enjoy this game.”
———
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ynupdates yn seen at the kansas chief’s game
view all comments
fan1 NO WAY SHES THERE
fan2 MAMA KELCE IS WITH HER
fan3 is ynvis real?!?!
fan4 is everyone gonna ignore lucy bronze right next to her
———
The game just finished. Everyone is cheering as the Chief’s won a game at home. You and Donna hug each other close, jumping up and down. Lucy was actually awestruck by all the people celebrating their team winning, thinking back to all the times fans of hers and her team celebrated like this.
Moments after, you follow Debby to the hallways, no doubt leading to her son. Travis comes out freshly showered and changed a bit after, going straight to his Mom for a hug. Then he turns to you opening his arms out for a hug, so you give him a side hug, not wanting to be mean. Cameras click nonstop towards the two of you.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says to you.
“You as well. Great game you played out there.”
“Thank you. Wanna go somewhere more private so we can hear each other better without the prying eyes?”
“Yeah, sure.”
He leads towards the exit, you following behind him, your hand holding Lucy’s tightly, who Travis hadn’t acknowledged at all. Exiting towards the garage where his and your cars are parked, you relax a bit, relieved to be away from the cameras. Lucy walks a bit off to the side to let you two talk, but still close enough to hear, in case he says something he shouldn’t.
“Im glad you accepted my invite.”
“Yeah, me too. I’ve never been to or seen an American Football game.”
“American Football?”
“Well, yeah. The U.S is the only one that plays this sport. Football is played throughout the world.”
“Wow, you’re gonna be like that?” He says, thinking you’re flirting with him by saying his sport isn’t widely played.
“Be like what?”
“Never mind. But I just wanted to ask if you wanna hang out right now? Get to know each other a bit more.” He steps closer towards you, but you step back.
“I’d have to decline. My girlfriend and I have to get back to England. She’s got a couple Football matches coming up.”
“Girlfriend?” Travis is shocked by the information. “I didn’t know you were even with someone.”
“I’m surprised no one knows. They see two girls and automatically think they’re best friends or something. But, no, been with that girl right there four years. It was very obvious.” You wave Lucy over. “Travis this is Lucy Bronze, my girlfriend—”
“—Actually fiancé. Proposed a couple weeks ago, so there’s still some getting used to. It’s nice to meet you mate. Heard you’ve been talking ‘bout my girl pretty often past few weeks.”
The look on Travis’ face is laughable.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, we’re very private people. But now that you’ve met my girl after being all up in her DM’s, you’d stop using her name to stay relevant yeah? ‘Cause it’s making you look desperate.”
You didn’t interfere. You’re stood off to the side, a proud look on your face.
“Yeah, of course. Never again.”
“The last thing you should talk about in that little podcast of yours is a public apology using her name for fame like many men have in the past.”
After a moment of Lucy staring at Travis she speaks up again. It was a bit funny how intimidated he looked at Lucy, seeing as she’s almost a foot shorter than him
“Well, mate, we best be off. I’ve got some Football to be preparing for, my girl by my side always. Best of luck to you. Hope you find someone that isn’t taken.”
With that, she takes a hold of your hand, leading you to the car. You give him a little wave, leaving him speechless in the middle of the parking garage.
———
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yourinstagram Thank you travis for the invite! Had a lot of fun at my first ever American Football game with my Fiancé. Congrats to you and your team on the win! #KansasCityChiefs
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lucybronze very different from football for sure
↳ yourinstagram very different
leahwilliamsonn where was my invite?
↳ yourinstagram you didn’t get one
↳ leahwilliamsonn rude
fan1 SHES ENGAGED
fan2 ynvis isn’t real thank god!
fan3 OHMYGOD ITS LUCY BRONZE ALCJHD
fan4 this is a very polite way of saying ‘keep my name out your fucking mouth’
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bobbin-buckley · 1 year ago
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Broken Glass
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Cairo x SoccerPlayer!Fem!Reader
Summary: Your troublemaker girlfriend breaks up with you
Warnings: Break up, mentions of lung cancer
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cairo was always difficult to deal with. Always exploding over the small things you say that come out as a insult to her, or the bold assumptions she makes. Cairo was a girl who never cared about anyone other than herself, but in this case she cared for you..
Today was her girlfriends ball party, you are Cairo’s girlfriend. You held this party because of your congrats on winning your soccer game. And ball dances happened to be your favorite, so you held one.
She was currently dancing with you slowly, it was a slow dance..her hands around your neck as you kept your hand placement on her waist. She was wearing a white gown, that hugged her hips nice..
She seemed quiet and relaxed as she danced with you, but really her mind was running a hundred miles per hour. Her hands left your neck, pulling away before speaking.
“Can we step outside? I need to talk to you.” She said, looking pretty tense now.
The big smile you had on your face was now gone, but nodded to follow her anyways. She takes your hand and brings you out the garden terrace. She turns to you, letting go of your hand and leaning against the railing. Her brown hair shinning in the moonlight.
“Can I ask you something?” Cairo was looking at you, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. “Yeah, always.” You replied with, leaning against the rail with her.
She glanced down at her heels for a moment, gathering herself for what she was going to say. She seemed really nervous, she isn’t good about expressing her feelings, so she gets straight to the point.
“…do you really love me? Do I mean..anything to you?” Cairo asks, her voice broke a bit.
You furred your eyebrows, caught off guard by the question a bit..but it didn’t really surprise you. She seemed to always ask questions like these when she felt insecure, which you always replied with the same certain response. “Of course I do. Cairo you’re my girlfriend, I love you.”
“You do?” Her voice trembles. She seems confused, which confused you. It’s like she’s digesting the response. Her own love life has been so complex.. she still doesn’t even fully understand herself, but she wants to believe what you’ve said.
“Are you sure?” You notice the tears in her eyes swell up more, she’s holding back tears. “Yes of course I am,” you respond. “What’s going on my love?”
“I-it’s..” Cairo’s having a hard time finding the words, as she’s on the verge of a breakdown. She glanced around the terrace, looking at the small water fountain in the middle..seeing the moonlights reflection in it.
She held a hand up to her mouth to cover up sobs. “My…my mom…” she squeaks out. You tilt your head a bit, “what about your mom?”
“She has lung cancer..” your eyes widen at her words. She breaks, tears streaming down her face. She hadn’t told anyone..or muster up the courage to say something about the situation..maybe only her close friends…but how come not you?
“A-and I’ve been so distracted because of it. I haven’t been able to focus on anything, my grades are going down..” she couldn’t finish her sentence..her breathing becoming harsh..sobbing a lot.
“Hey..hey shhh..” you wrapped your arms around her small form, trying to comprehend the situation. “I’m so sorry baby..”
Cairo leans her head on your chest, letting out some more sobs. She’s been a loss of support..but of your presence there she’s slightly relieved. Less weight on her shoulders when you embrace her.
“I-i didn’t know how to tell you..” she whispers through a few more cries. “Hey..shhh, it’s okay.” You rub her back.
Cairo takes a deep breath as her sobs subside a bit. She pulls away from your embrace, which only increases your worries. She clears her throat, “thank you.”
You nod, happy to calm her down a bit..but not convinced enough she’s done. “Always. I’m glad you told me though..how is she right now?” You weren’t close with Cairo’s parents, I mean they were pretty much gone all the time since they’re lawyers ..but hearing that her mother had lung cancer, was shocking.
You rubbed her cheek and she smiles a bit at the gesture, relieved to tell you about the situation, albeit with a lot of difficulty. “She isn’t doing very well..” she took a deep breath, finding it hard to keep her tears at bay.
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to continue..it’s okay..”
She had something else to say, and you knew it. But you aren’t prepared. “But, there’s something else.”
There it is
“What is it love?” Now were you worried.
Now she doesn’t want to say it, but she’s already put herself in the situation. She knows if she says never-mind you’ll keep asking her. But despite her shyness, she speaks again.
“I..I don’t think I can be your girlfriend anymore..”
Your eyes widen, feeling your heart drop in your stomach. “Wh-what?”
Cairo nods her head slowly as she looks down. She seems scared to have said those words, apprehensive to your next response. Her voice trembles as she speaks again, “I..I don’t think I’m cut out for a relationship right now..”
Those words hit you like a bus. You can’t believe the situation right now, even at Cairo’s confession. You both have been together for five months now, things were going fine…you loved each other. But now she wanted to end things now? At your celebration? You get the fact her mom has lung cancer, but it isn’t like she’s dead….yet.
“It’s- its because of your mom..? Isn’t it.” You finally spoke up. “Yeah..” she confirms, her throat is dry. More tears flow, sobs continuing. She turns away from you, afraid to look at you.
“O-okay..” you step back, voice trembling too. As your own tears flood down.
“Please, I don’t want you to think it’s your fault.” She turns around to face you again, she scans your hurt face. She knows she messed up, your posture and facial expressions says it all. She’s aware of your sensitivity, she knows how you blame yourself when she is upset.
“N-no it’s fine..I mean yeah- I get it.” You let out a shaky breath, your own thoughts forming.
Maybe she hates you, she doesn’t love you, you aren’t good enough, it’s all your fault, you messed up
“You do?” She looks up at you in shock. Cairo wasn’t expecting such an easy response, she assumed maybe you’d have questions. But she also didn’t want to push the issue further, honestly, she wanted to agree what she was saying. Because outside of her family issues, she’s having a hard time understanding her feelings for you, and to her this was the only way to deal with the situation. Push you away like you’ve never met before, breaking your fragile heart and her own.
You shrug, “I don’t..know what else to say.” Cairo shakes her head, she didn’t expect you to say much. But she did expect a response of begging for her to not leave you..
“I’m sorry,” “it’s not your fault.” You quickly respond.
More weight lifted off her shoulders, but not enough. “You aren’t..gonna convince me to stay?” She was still shocked, wondering why you wouldn’t beg for her back…beg desperately for mercy.
“No..” boy do you wish you hadn’t responded like that, but you were hurt and shocked still. More than likely stuck like that forever if she doesn’t fix the situation.
Cairo’s eyes widen, lips parted. “R-really? You aren’t even gonna…try?”
“I’ve done this before,” “you have?”
You have indeed. Your last break up happened similar, they said you weren’t good enough..made up an excuse to break up and you tried begging for them back. But they didn’t give you any reason and without word, left you.
“Yes, my first relationship. The break up ended the same way, and I tried begging for them back…but they left without a word.”
She blinks, guilt rising up in her. She should’ve known this had happened to you, and why did she not know? She doesn’t know.
“I-I’m sorry.” “Stop saying sorry…”
Because you aren’t, is what you wanted to end the sentence with.
Cairo frowns. She didn’t even realize she was responding with a ‘sorry’ every time she spoke. She sighs, “I’m just..I feel awful about this, I should’ve handled things better.”
“It’s fine. If you think without me is better…it’s fine.”
It isn’t fine
She’s hurt, hurt you aren’t trying for her back. She’s sighs and shakes her head,
“you’re too …..good for me.” “That’s what everybody says.”
Cairo seems even more surprised at your response. She didn't know that people had told you that, but she feels like it's true and it stings her a little. She clears her throat. "I- really?" she asks in a shaky voice.
You nod. Cairo nods, as she looks down again. The truth is that she thinks it's true, too. She knows she's not ready for a relationship, especially with someone like you. It was better for her to let you go, especially if she thinks you… can do better. She sighs as she feels the guilt of her decision rise up again.
“Well, they aren’t wrong.”
Well ouch.
“Ouch.”
Cairo freezes, as she looks straight back at you, her eyes full of tears. That... yeah, that hurt you. That response didn't help her with her guilt at all. She feels like the ground opens up under her feet at the unexpected words.
“Ouch?” She asks.
You sighed, not wanting to explain why it hurt. “Just go.”
Cairo is taken aback by how harsh you are, and her face quickly turns into a frown. She feels like the wind has been knocked out of her, and her breath catches in her throat.
Just... just go? She can't believe this... after all this time they spent together, this is all it took for her to say that so harshly...Even if she was pushing you away first, she doesn’t feel wanted anymore.
“If you think you’re better without me, then just go.” You didn’t want to push her away, but you were.
“Who said I’m better without you?” “You did! You said you’d be better without being in a relationship..and that we weren’t cut out,”
You cried, defending yourself. She grits her teeth, “and…and you took that as I think I’m better without you?”
“Then what?” You crossed your arms, fed up.
Cairo sighs deeply as she looks away. She doesn't know what to say. She doesn't want to make her think that was what she meant. But she feels angry and hurt by her reaction to her words.
“…I said I think I am not ready to be with someone, I never said that I think I can do better without you...”
You sigh. “Then what do you want?”
She doesn’t think before she says, “maybe I would be better without you!”
You shake your head, crying more than before. “Just go..go.”
Cairo swallows deeply as she sees the harshness in her face. She sighs, as she looks down, finally accepting that there is no point in staying. There was no point in fighting back.
“…right.” she says after a few moments, and takes a deep breath. She turns around, starting to take steps away from you, her chest feeling heavy as she does so.
It started raining after, and you watched her leave the garden terrace. Leave you.
Now, all there was..is broken glass
Your fragile heart, shattered
~~~~~~~~~~~
Oops
Mb
Y’all want a part two?
And I’m working on a continuation of ‘Lonely in her Mansion’ I just suck at smut so bare with me 😭
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anxiouswildfire · 2 months ago
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@lunasky2491 ‘s suggestion from a while ago
Hunith comes to Camelot in an au where merlin doesn’t visit her or write often. She doesn’t know much, since he doesn’t share a lot about his life.
Hunith Ambrosius sighed, head in her hands as she thought about her son. Hunith was the sort to worry. A lot. It had been many years since Merlin went off to work under Gaius. They used to be close, but nowadays Merlin seemed to rarely have time to write his own mother.
She looked over the last letter he wrote, dated back many months, and decided to make the journey to Camelot.
Dearest mum,
Hunith walked through many different towns making her way to Camelot.
I’m sorry it’s been a bit. I’ve been quite busy with his royal highness’ needs. He broke his arm last week and had been complaining ever since. When can I get a break?
She finally arrived many days later, in awe of the towering city.
Life has been good. Gaius is sticking to his ‘merlin goes to the tavern’ excuse whenever I’m needed, even though I’m literally doing important things and have rarely been to the tavern.
She made her way through the bustling loud streets to Gaius, figuring his apprentice wouldn’t be far.
Don’t worry about my little secret, I only do it when absolutely necessary
She quickly asked a passerby about the whereabouts of Gaius’ chambers. They pointed her in the right direction.
Ugh, boss wants me back now. I’m busy every second of the day I swear, but it’s actually fun in Camelot.
Hunith knocked on Gaius’ door. The man answered the door and gaped in surprise.
Miss you loads,
Merlin
Gaius hugged her. “Oh, Hunith.”
“Hello, old friend.” She smiled warmly at him.
“Merlin is still with Prince Arthur.”
“Is something wrong with him?”
Gaius raised his eyebrow, “which one?”
“Prince Arthur. Is he okay?”
“Yes of course-“ Gaius stopped. “Did you not know that Merlin is Arthur’s manservant?”
“What?”
“You didn’t know?”
“No, that boy never tells me anything! Wow! I’m so proud of him! Climbing the ranks.. oh I wish he told me more.” She considered. “The letters mentioning quests for the Prince makes more sense now. I thought he meant it in a metaphorical way.”
“He saved Arthur’s life.”
“Oh, my boy!” She smiled. Then hesitated.
“No one knows about his magic, don’t worry.”
Her eyes widened. “You know?”
“Let’s just say.. he wasn’t very careful in the early days.”
“Gaius!” Merlin walked into the room, then stopped at the sight of his mom. “Mum!”
“My baby!” She rushed towards him and gave him a hug.
Gaius left to give them some privacy
Merlin’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh mum..”
“Merlin, why didn’t you tell me you were the prince’s manservant!”
He blinked, “I thought I did. Did you not wonder why I hung around the prat so often?”
“I thought he was very injury prone.” She said, frowning at the insult.
“He does get into danger more than I’d like..” Merlin muttered. “But no, he’s my friend and my master.”
“Well I’m very impressed that you climbed the ranks-“
“No mum, I just got the job because I saved his life. I’m a terrible manservant.”
“How long have you been his servant?”
“Since the first day I came to Camelot, mum.”
She gasped. “Merlin! How did I not know this?”
“What were you thinking when I’d insult him all the time?”
“I thought he was rude to you when you treated him.”
“I mean he is rude but-“
“Merlin, don’t call the prince rude!”
“Merlin!” Arthur called “Merlin, where are you, you lazy prat!” He noticed hunith had then merlin shortly after. “Oh, hello.” He bowed his head slightly in greeting.“Merlin, who’s this?”
“This is my mum, hunith.”
“Nice to meet you, hunith.”
Hunith smiled. “Hello, Prince Arthur.” She bowed.
“I don’t know where you get your rudeness from because it isn’t from her!”
“I know exactly where you got your rudeness from.” Merlin muttered
“Merlin! Don’t insult your king!”
Merlin rolled his eyes.
“Sorry about my son, my lord”
“Oh no, hunith, it’s alright, Merlin’s like this with everyone. Well especially with me..”
“Stop sucking up to my mom and tell me what chores you have for me so I can get out of your presence as soon as humanly possible!”
Arthur rolled his eyes, “Mordred suggested we all have an extra training session. You need to help me with my armour.”
Merlin glowered with genuine hatred. “Oh of course it’s mordred.”
“I still don’t get what you have against sir mordred.”
“‘Sir’ mordred more like sir murder. I’m going to kill that man someday. Maybe suffocate him in his sleep sometime..” Merlin muttered quietly.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’ll help you in a second after I get my mum settled.”
“I don’t have all day, Merlin.”
“I don’t have all day merlin” Merlin mocked as Arthur left
“Merlin, my baby, why do you not show him you care in more… conventional ways?”
Merlin sighed heavily like he was exhausted. “His head would get too big.” He said simply.
“I think we all would like to have a little love shown in more obvious ways.”
Merlin smiled at her softly, “I love you, mama.”
“I love you too, merlin. But you know that’s not what I meant.”
“.. i know.”
“You don’t want to keep him waiting.”
“I would like to keep him waiting actually”
“Don’t you ever worry about getting fired?”
“Oh getting fired.. that would be a sweet break.”
Hunith laughed, a little confused.
“I’m serious, I'm so tired.” He said with a straight face
Hunith stopped laughing
Merlin started laughing
Hunith smiled with uncertainty.
“No but to be honest, protecting that man from.. special assassins is a full time job. Plus my regular job of being his servant, PLUS a physician’s apprentice? It’s a lot.”
“That does sound like a lot, baby.”
“But it’s fine, I’m good.”
“Are you? You seem tired. You’re his friend, does he know?”
“No, but I’m alright.”
“Maybe you should tell-“
“No way. I’m not losing my best friend and possibly my life.“
“You think he’d kill you?”
“I don’t know but his father definitely would and I can’t make him choose between him and his father.”
“That’s not your choice to make, honey.”
“It’s my life!”
“You’re alone, my boy.”
“I’m.. not. I have Gwen, my friend. I have arthur. I have Gaius. I have other friends..”
“And I’m guessing only Gaius knows?”
“Well, yes, but-“
“I don’t think Gaius is the most understanding. Do you ever talk to him about how much pressure you have on your shoulders?”
Merlin sighed, tearing up. “How did you notice?”
“Just from you talking, baby, you’re so exhausted. I know you. Even though I barely truly know you now, I know my boy.”
Merlin hugged his mother. “Thank you for listening, mama. I do actually have to go before Arthur tries finding me again.”
“Okay, just think about what I had to say.”
“Thank you!” He shouted as he ran away out the door.
Hunith sighed heavily, knowing her son would not be talking to anyone about his troubles.
Gaius came back in.
“Oh, Gaius.”
“What is it hunith?” He closed the door and looked at her, worried.
Hunith teared up. “My boy, he’s under so much pressure.”
“Oh yes.. right that.”
“Gaius, there must be some way to help him!”
He sighed heavily. “I don’t know, hunith. It’s bigger than us.”
“Bigger than us?”
After some tea and cookies, the whole destiny thing was explained. How Arthur and Merlin were two sides of the same coin, Destinies intertwined, the once and future king and emrys meant to bring back magic to Avalon.
Merlin came back. “I asked for a day off.” He said as he walked into the room, immediately chattering up a storm, “Arthur said he’d think about it which basically means no but like I feel like it’s only because he’d miss me, he doesn’t really need me as a servant, he just likes having me around. Though that is helpful in keeping him alive.“
His two guardians exchanged knowing looks.
“Merlin, are you in love with Prince Arthur?”
“Hunith!” Gaius chastised for asking so outright.
“I’m.. what? In love? With Arthur?” Merlin laughed. “If I was in love with Arthur I would-“ he stopped. “Nevermind, um.”
Hunith smiled knowingly.
That’s all for now. Thanks for reading!
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avatarmerida · 10 months ago
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A Blight By Any Other Name
I posted a preview for this awhile ago but I've been busy and whatver so here it is! It's a slight AU I guess but I'm mostly here for vibes not for explanations. If you see any errors no you didn't!
----
“Willow please!”
“Amity, I don’t know, it’s risky isn’t it?”
“There’s no way anyone would ever find out!”
“If that’s true then why don’t you just skip it or send an illusion?”
“I just need it to go well enough so my mom will stop bugging me and I’ll never have to do it again,” said Amity. “I’m just no good at these kinds of things and I’m worried I’ll mess it up so much that she’ll make me try again or send me to courtesy lessons with the twins.”
It was the envy of every parent who hoped to gloat about their child. Once a week for a month, the head of the Emperor’s coven would see a hopeful recruit and mentor them. It was a chance to impress them as well as learn from them. There were months that went by with no worthy adversary appearing as you needed to be the best, the boldest and the brightest.
Being rich didn’t hurt your chances either. 
“Why is your mom sending you anyway? Why can’t she send one of the twins?”
“She knows they won’t take it seriously,” Amity groaned. “She wants to make a good impression and she thinks it’ll help my chances of getting into the Emperor’s Coven. But all my antidotes were formed around impressing Miss Lillith, I don’t have time to research the charm the golden guard prefers.”
“And I do?”
“You’re just naturally likeable!” Amity declared. “It will give me time to prepare. Just pretend to be me and make me seem calm and friendly.”
“And what happens if he doesn’t like me or asks me something only you could ever answer?”
“The first visit is always a tour of the grounds, which I’ve studied enough to know anyway,” said Amity. “Just nod and smile and it will be fine! I just… I can’t…”
Willow saw through her instantly. “You have plans with Luz tonight, don’t you?”
“What? No, n-not like ‘official’ plans or anything like that but she mentioned she was doing something and it seemed intentional and so I thought maybe we would-.”
“It’s okay Amy, I get it,” said Willow with a smile. She was adjusting to having Amity back in her life and whatever was happening between her newest and oldest friend might not have been her favorite thing at first but it was growing on her. And who was she to stand between two dorks with crushes? “I’ll go for you.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” she said. 
“Perfect! I’ll grab the concealment stone for you!” Said Amity as she wrapped her friend in a hug. “Oh, thank you Willow! I owe you big time!”
“Yeah I know,” said Willow with a sigh as she returned the hug. “I know.”
———
The plan was simple: Willow would take a concealment stone and go to the meeting as Amity and secure a good first impression. According to Amity’s research, she probably wouldn’t even need to talk (Willow didn’t know if that meant ‘have the opportunity to’ or ‘be allowed to’ but was too nervous to ask) and by the time they had walked the grounds, the appointment would be over. She had endured worse.
The Golden Guard greeted her at the gate, if you could call it that. He didn’t technically say hello or ask how or who she was or offer any information about himself. He just gave her a nod and told her to follow him.He  spoke only when necessary, and when he did his tone was harsh and condescending. Willow couldn’t help but feel it felt forced. He gave instructions as though it came as naturally as breathing, sounding as though he was both tired and proud of showing her around. She walked three steps behind him, just as he told her to, and nodded and showed faint signs of understanding, just as Amity had told her. It was plain and awkward and everything Amity had said it would be.
The first visit was meant to be nothing more than a mostly silent and distant tour of the grounds,but once they got to the garden, Willow couldn’t help herself.
“Woah! Is that a Phantom orchid?!” She exclaimed, trailing back to get a closer look. 
“Hmm? Oh yeah it is,” he said, stopping to allow her to observe. Usually when someone interrupted him, it was a coven head telling him to shut up or mocking him or dismissing the fact he was speaking at all. But this girl wasn’t ignoring him, she was including him in her excitement, so he allowed himself to allow it.
“And it’s blooming already?” she continued, getting as close as she could. “How did that happen? The full moon isn’t for a few more days!”
“Oh, well Terra figured out that if you add moon dust to the water it will naturally convert the sunlight into the needed chemical to bloom.”
“The water, of course!” Willow said, laughing as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why didn’t I think of that? It helps the pigment coloration too! Ah! It’s so pretty! Look at the lateral sepal and the dorsal sepal! They’re much bigger than average, it must be cross pollinated to have a wide enough stem to support that.”
He watched as she continued to chatter about the details of the flower, seeing things within things and connecting it to flowers in her own garden. She was vibrant and excited and loud, uncaring if she got dirt stains on her uniform as she got closer to the plant. It was extremely unprofessional.
“You know a surprising amount about plants for someone on the abomination track.” He observed as he knelt down beside her.
“Well, between you and me I’m not really the best at abominations.” Willow replied without really thinking, too enamored by the details of the flower before her to monitor her filter. 
“Oh, well that was surprisingly… honest.” He marveled. 
Oh shoot, Amity probably didn’t want a rumor that she didn’t excel at the abomination track getting back to the Emperor.
“I-I just mean you know in all my studies I-I have sooo many studies!” Willow sputtered. “When I said ‘I’m not the best’ I mean more like uh… like uh…”
“Oh, no I didn’t mean anything by it! No, it’s just that… in other afternoon arrangements I’ve had they always try to talk themselves up, they’d never admit to not doing well at something.” He cleared his throat, uncertain why he cared about offering her peace of mind in her confession.”It’s… refreshing. I feel like you’re the first person I’m actually getting to know.”
Willow smiled. “Well alright then, your turn,” she said, standing back up brushing the lingering dirt off her knees. “Tell me something you don’t like.”
“Wild witches,” he responded instantly, low and dramatic.
“O-kay,” Willow said nervously. “Maaaybe switch gears then, what’s something you like?”
“Catching wild witches.”
“No,” she giggled, shaking her head. “That’s your job, but what’s something you do that’s just for you? Like, a hobby or something you do for fun?”
“I like… to read?” He said after a moment, too embarrassed to tell her he had no time for fun. None of the questions he had gotten had ever been so… genuine. 
“Okay, that’s a start,” she said with a smile. “What do you like to read about?”
He went to answer and she quickly cut him off to say: “And don’t say ‘about how to catch wild witches.’”
“Fine,” he said, cracking a smile she could hear. “I like… reading books about adventures, and history, and the human realm.”
“Ooh, my best friend is a big fan of the human realm,” said Willow enthusiastically. She decided it was best to not mention Luz, lest his line of questions shift back to the wild witch she was known to be staying with. “We found a book about human gardening at the market once and the lack of carnivorous plants over there is very surprising.”
“Yes! Exactly, okay I’ve said that exact thing before!” He replied excitedly, elated to hear his thoughts echoed. “I think it’s because the rain doesn’t boil over there and it makes their foliage more docile.”
“Oh yeah! That’s a good point!” Willow said as their excitement connected. 
“And not to mention the psshahshshlssh.”
“Oh sorry, I didn't catch that.”
“I was just saying how the flowers here aren’t as deedsmdnns.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Willow asked again, his sentiment lost behind his mask.
“Oh sorry, here lemme just-.” He realized the issue and went to swiftly remove the mask, and when he did Willow couldn’t hear a word he said, only her own thoughts echoing behind her wide eyes.
Oh boy. 
He really was just a boy.
And boy he was-
“Hot,” voiced Willow without thinking.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” He asked, moving his hand through his hair, letting a lock spin in front of his face as the rest aired out like a soft halo.
“Er I just mean it must get really hot under that mask,” Willow recovered, the guard none the wiser. 
“Um yeah sometimes I guess,” his voice clear and unmuffled making him seem more real somehow. “It’s just for protection and authority and whatever,” he said with a shrug, as though he was explaining why he wore any other mundane accessory. “My uncle requires that I wear it most of the time.”
“It’s a shame cause you really do have a nice face.”
“Oh uh thank you?” He said, averting his gaze to the ground. If anyone else had said it, he’d roll his eyes knowing it was sarcasm or was about to be followed by some nasty comment. But when this girl said it, he somehow knew it was sincere. He dared to hope she wasn’t just saying it to be polite. 
He wanted to tell her she did too. 
But instead he asked:
“What other flowers do you have in your garden?”
——
He let her talk about plants for hours. 
Her friends loved hearing her talk about them, of course, but there was something different about the way the guard listened. He hung on her words like she had invented them, but his contribution proved that he was just as well versed in certain aspects as she was. The tiny, mundane details that often caused other people to get lost were equally beloved by the pair. He just loved knowing things Willow quickly learned, and when she said something he hadn’t known before he treated it like it was a revelation and looked for a way to take notes. And when he talked, oh Titan, there was such a fire in his eyes. Willow loved how he talked with his hands as though he was laying out illustrations that only they could see, even more enchanting than an illusion. When he had been talking longer than he was usually able to, he apologized but Willow insisted he continue. 
They had hardly realized any time had passed until they heard Darius call for him, and Willow pulled out her scroll to check the time. They had gone way over the allotted hour. 
“Wow, time really flies I guess,” Willow chuckled, hoping she hadn’t kept him from anything important.
“Yeah,” the guard said, unable to hide the tone of disappointment in his voice as he tried to keep it hidden from his face. He put his mask back on. “I’ll uh, walk you out then.”
When they arrived at the gate, a familiar silence danced between them. But this time it fought, as though being crushed by all the things they had not gotten to yet. She turned on her heel and bashfully offered him her hand, trying to safe face (or, rather, Amity’s face).
“Well, it was very nice to meet you-.”
“Hunter,” he said quickly, as though he was unsure it was proper to say.
“What?”
“That’s my name, Hunter,” he said. “You can call me that, if you like. It’s a bit less formal.”
“Is that what all your friends call you?”
“I guess? They would if I did, I mean. Have friends, that is.”
“Well then I’d be happy to call you Hunter,” said Willow. “And you can call me…” Woah, she had almost let it slip. She technically hasn’t introduced herself, she hadn't needed to, but she wanted to return the favor. But in what world was Willow a nickname for Amity? “Clover.”
“Clover?”
“Yeah it’s uh a nickname,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Everyone calls me that.”
“Oh, like a lucky clover.”
“Exactly,” she said in an airy voice she had never used but he had inspired her twice in one afternoon. She’d think of a believable explanation to give Amity later. 
“Well I felt very lucky to meet you,” he said bashfully, feeling as though he was trying to add something more within the compliment. He could tell she sensed it as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He felt a little stupid but somehow not in a bad way?
“Me too,” she said softly. “I had fun.”
“Surprisingly I also really enjoyed myself,” he admitted in disbelief. “You’re very nice company, Ms. Blight.”
“You know, you’re not so bad yourself,” she said with a smile. That’s something Amity would say, right? She couldn’t place exactly when the shift had happened but at some point she had forgotten she was supposed to be pretending to tolerate him as she found herself genuinely enjoying herself. 
He cleared his throat, kicking at the dirt as he fought against shyness. “Would you want to do this again? I mean, sooner than the weekly arrangement, that is.” He made sure to clarify. “I can plan something outside the castle, maybe show you where Terra has some of her rarer species.”
“Oh, I-I l’d really like that actually,” Willow couldn’t help but say. But that would complicate things even more in many ways. She was supposed to be getting Amity out of this and yet she was committing to more time with him. Plus how could she justify Amity being in two places at once? 
“It’s just… I’m…” but she could hardly say that was the reason so what reason could she give that wouldn’t leave him hurt or suspicious?
He sensed her hesitation. “Oh yeah I mean you’re probably busy, I’m probably busy too anyway.” 
“Yeah, and I know how strict your uncle can be and well you know how my mom is.”
“Yeah, I… sure do,” he said in a way that only someone who knew Odalia Blight but didn’t want to possibly offend her daughter would. “So, is that why you dyed your hair? I heard she prefers it all green like hers.”
“Oh yeah,” she chuckled, knowing Amity’s most comfortable level of rebellion was letting her roots show. 
“I mean, I think it would be lovely on you,” said Hunter shyly. “Green suits you; especially the green of your eyes.”
“Green of my-.” Amity’s eyes were brown and not a brown that would be mistaken for green even in a dim light. 
“And I also think they look lovely with the gold frame of your glasses,” Hunter quickly added, dipping his toes into a more detailed compliment. “Your whole face really is uh… very pleasant. Nothing like Odalia. Not that I’m calling your mother ugly! That’s no, I just meant because I know how you feel about her that I can see you as your own person and that you have features that are unique and that look very…”
As Hunter continued to ramble, Willow caught sight of herself in the reflection of a window. She wore the abomination uniform but it was not Amity’s face that looked back at her now. Her eyes darted to her neck and widened when they saw she had forgotten the concealment stone. 
Her face, her body, her voice had been hers from the beginning. The only thing Hunter didn’t know about her was her name.
“… I guess what I’m trying to say is you’re very beautiful and I enjoy spending time with you,” he managed to get to the point, his tone indicating he realized it as he was saying it. “Not that I wouldn’t if you weren’t but I guess…” he trailed off again and sighed as Willow’s heart caught up to her mind realizing his words were truly for her, as her. 
“You’re just… not what I was expecting,” said Hunter. “And I’m sorry if I didn’t give you the best first impression.”
Her throat felt tight. She hadn’t intended to trick him, not like this. For some reason doing it in her own skin made the lie more hurtful. As spot on as her Amity impression could be, she hadn’t wanted to do the wrong thing and so stuck to what she knew. He just made it easy for her to be herself. He laughed at her jokes and listened to her and looked at her so softly and so attentively and so…and for him to say such nice things… it felt odd but she desperately wanted him to know everything but her name. 
“Well, in my opinion first impressions aren’t always all they’re cracked up to be,” she said. “But I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.”
——-
“Amity please,” Willow said, her voice determined to let her know this was not a request to be taken lightly. “In all the years I’ve known you, can you honestly say there was even a single time that I was not a good friend to you?”
“No,” Amity could not even pretend to search for ammo. “But why do you want to go back so badly? Was it the garden?”
“Well, it’s not just the garden,” Willow admitted sheepishly. “The Golden Guard isn’t as scary as everyone makes him out to be, ya know? We had a really good time and I just wanna see him again.”
“Really?” Amity asked with a raise of her eyebrow. When she arrived to download with Willow, she had expected to have much to apologize and make up for. She would never have guessed that her friend would want to take her place again. “Are you sure there’s not something else going on?”
“Well I also maaaaay have forgotten to wear the concealment stone so he thinks you look like me,” Willow added quickly as though it was a minor setback. 
“Willow!”
“It’ll be okay though! I’ll think of something to fix it! I’ll make sure you still get credit or ya know maybe we can convince him there’s two girls with the same name and it was like some kind of mix up.”
“You really think that’ll work?”
“No he’s really smart,” Willow admitted, both in awe and disappointment of the truth. “But not just about coven stuff, he knows so many little random facts. We just talked for hours about plants and books and stuff but it felt like only minutes had gone by.”
“I know how that feels,” said Amity, a blush creeping into her face as she remembered her heart flipping when she and Luz had first discussed Azura and all the tangents they went on. How everything flowed so easy, like they were in a bubble. 
Amity knew what everyone said about the Golden Guard, that he was cold and strict and stuck up. Whispers in the hallways had said the same thing about her, but she knew why. Maybe he needed a friend like Willow for his true colors to show. “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
—-
So she went back the following week and when she entered the gates it was like they picked up right where they left off. Amity had sent her with an itinerary and talking points but all business left her mind when he entered her view. She saw the tenseness leave his shoulders and his stance become relaxed when she smiled at him. Now that she knew he was seeing her, her heart couldn’t help but flutter a little bit.
“You came back,” he said, unable to hide the fact that he was slightly stunned.
“I did,” she replied. “Is that… okay?”
“Yes, yes of course,” he said. “I’m just… not used to having people happy to see me who know me.”
“Well then, they must know you very well then, huh?”
There was hardly a moment of silence between them. Years of not being able to speak freely if anything frivolous poured out of him once she entered his sights. He collected jokes and anecdotes like inventory, counting the minutes until she was back at the gate greeting him with a wide smile no one else had ever held for him.  He had considered that their unlikely connection was part of a strategy, but the more she shared about herself quickly put that theory to rest. She didn’t have enough intel on him for blackmail and didn’t do enough to talk herself up to make him feel she was aiming for favoritism. It was almost like she didn’t care about the coven at all, she treated it like an afterthought when it came up. Their shared obligation had brought them together but what kept them coming back together was more than Hunter fully understood. He just knew that once a week he could breathe.
There were some close calls (like referring to herself as an only child once) but luckily Willow knew Amity well enough that she could quickly recover any slip ups.It actually made it easier for her to visit on the days they weren’t technically meant to. Amity was a known sucker for extra credit, so of course she’d insist on more time with the coven head who was meant to be mentoring her. Though she did not say much when their time consisted of less mentoring and more of overly competitive games of capture the flag and listing fun facts at each other. 
He asked her why she was on the abomination track when she so clearly was suited for the plant track and she said her father thought it was best for her, which was both in character and not a lie.
When they would get off on a tangent that he could not relate to official coven business, she smoothed it out by claiming the fact that they were meeting under the arrangement of her mother and the emperor made whatever they ended up doing official coven business. So he enjoyed her company without guilt, which allowed him to feel the new, confusing nerves all the more. 
Despite the purpose of the arrangement being to help see if she would be a worthy addition to the coven, she never once asked about it. She asked about him plenty, but it was almost as though she had forgotten she was there on business.
---
A few weeks into the arrangement, Hunter was pacing at the gate waiting for his guest. It wasn’t like her to be late, in fact she usually came early so they’d have more time together. Every other candidate had reached a point when they stopped coming back, his drills were too much or his voice too annoying, or sometimes they neglected to give  a reason all together. Granted this round had been different, he couldn’t deny he hadn’t been following usual protocol or checklist, but he felt that they both believed it was different in the best way. He had never been nervous like this before, he was nervous every day they were to meet. But it was a good nervous, he didn’t know how else to explain it. 
His heart leapt when he finally saw her land on her palisman. He straightened his spine and ran his hand through his hair as she walked to the gate, lacking her usual pep.
“Hi, sorry I’m late,” Willow said forlorn, trudging in.
“It’s fine, I totally wasn’t worried you weren’t coming or anything,” said Hunter nervously, barely hiding the truth within. His face became serious as he noticed the disdain did not leave her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she sighed, trying to force a smile. “This girl at school is just out to get me. Whenever she sees me she finds something to make fun of, and normally I can ignore it because I know she just wants a reaction out of me but I woke up already not feeling great and I dunno I guess it just got to me today.”
“What kind of things does she say?”
“That’s the worst part too, like the things she says aren’t even true or clever but she just keeps saying them,” Willow sighed. “Like she needs me to know how much she believes I’m a loser and that I’ll always be weak. It’s like she needs to make sure there’s someone worse off than her otherwise she can’t feel good about herself.”
“I’m surprised anyone would even try to mess with you, you know considering your status.”
“Oh yeah, as a Blight.”
“Oh well yeah but I mean just because of your ability in general,” said Hunter. “You’re a very powerful witch.”
“Me?”
“Yeah,” he said with confidence. Willow knew he must be fully informed of Amity’s academic strides to have secured her time with him, the Blights had a reputation in every aspect a person could. “I mean, it took Terra weeks to figure out how to get that seed to sprout and when I gave it to you you did it in minutes.”
“I didn’t even do anything really, I just held it to my heart because I was so excited. I just got lucky.”
“Yes but your first instinct was to be kind to it, Terra would never try something like that,” said Hunter. “Your magic comes from a genuine, caring place. It’s not for show or power and that’s what I think makes it so strong.”
Willow just stared at him.
“What? Did I say something weird? Is there something on my face? Why are you-.”
She wrapped him in a hug.
“You didn’t say anything weird,” said Willow. “It was just what I needed to hear. It was so sweet, thank you Hunter.”
“Yeah well I-if you what I can make that girl spend a night in the dungeon,” said Hunter, still unsure how to respond to her genuine words sometimes. His arms were pinned at his sides as she rested the side of her face on his chest. He didn’t know what to say but he didn’t want her to think him not talking meant he wanted her to let go.He didn’t know what this was but he knew he didn’t hate it. “We’ll see if she tries to mess with you again after that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she giggled, looking up at him. “But you know what would really make me feel better?”
“What?”
“Watching you try your first slice of fairy pie!”
He gasped. “No way!”
She giggled at his expression as she released him to skip over to her bag. “I told you my dad makes the best so I saved you some from my lunch!” She rushed back over to him with the carefully packaged slice she had perfectly crafted for him. Hunter took it and eyed it skeptically.
“Alador made this?” 
“No, he- er yeah I know right?” Willow gave the best nonanswer she could. 
“And there’s no like… abomination goo in it?” he asked, only half joking as he looked it over. 
“No I promise; I helped make this batch myself.
“Well it smells and looks really amazing,” Hunter said, feeling his mouth start to water. “But I can’t take this from you. Besides, I have my own piece of bread that I shouldn’t let go to waste.”
He went to fetch it from the table: the stale, pale slice of bread he had every encounter, the emperor’s idea of a snack. If you asked Willow, it shouldn’t be any person’s idea of edible.
“Well how about we swap then?” Willow offered. “My friends and I do it all the time! Try something new. You have the cake and I’ll take your bread so it doesn’t go to waste.”
“Are you sure? It hardly seems like a fair trade to yo-,” before Hunter could finish objecting, Willow snatched the bread from his hands and licked it.
”Now you have no choice.” She said plainly. 
He was stunned and flustered and embarrassed all at once. He never knew how to explain the things she did or how he felt about them. He knew she didn’t care about impressing him, yet she did it without trying. She didn’t care how it made her look. She wasn’t trying to bribe him. She did nice things for him because they would help him, there was no favors or ulterior motives lurking within her actions.
She placed the cake in his hands, making it clear she would hear no more on the matter.
The cake was everything she said it was, which meant it was everything his normal snack wasn’t. This was rich and vibrant and sharp and sweet in a way Hunter didn’t know was possible. He both wanted to savor it and devour it as quickly as possible. Willow’s reaction was less entrancing, as she tried to fake a smile as she marveled at how something could taste sour and salty and somehow flavorless at the same time.
When she managed to stomach it, she turned to see his reaction and was surprised to see him looking despondent despite the extra frosting she had added to the treat that she had been sure would delight him.
“What’s wrong? Does it taste okay?”
“No, I mean yes I mean it’s just… you had a bad day and you still came to see me,” Hunter said.
“Yeah, I mean I had a feeling I’d be late but-.”
“No it’s not about that, it's just… well. it would be a perfectly valid reason to not come by,” said Hunter. “If you weren’t feeling up to it or something, it would be understandable. But then when you did, you end up making me feel better.”
“Yeah?”
“Why?”
“That’s what being friends is,” she said simply, trying not to smile too wide at the stray bit of frosting that was smudged on the side of his mouth.
“We’re friends?”
“Yeah,” she said, trying in vain to bite into the stale loaf. “What else would we be?”
“Well I … I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. He wanted to ask what other things they could be. “I guess I’m just… glad to hear you say it.”
“Well then,” she said with a smile, scotting a bit closer to him to wipe the rogue bit of frosting from his cheek. “I’ll be sure to say it more often.”
“Cool,” he said, breaking off a piece of the pie to hand to her,she accepted if for no other reason than she needed the stale and somehow sour aftertaste from her mouth. She would definitely be bringing him more suitable treats going forward. 
“And besides,” she said with a smile. “Seeing you made me feel better too.”
----
On the off chance it should ever come up, Willow and Amity also met weekly to go over the meetings, Willow filling her in on any talking points that Darius might mention or Odalia might ask about. Of course, Willow did not tell Amity everything that went on at their encounters, she certainly kept the fluttering feeling in her chest to herself and the growing collection of heart doodles in her notebooks didn’t seem to come up. Willow just guaranteed that she was doing the Blight name justice and that her mother would be pleased with the report that may find its way back to her. She wasn’t sure how Hunter reported things, wondering if there were any portions he also kept to himself.
“... and then he mentioned the trial exams and “
“And what else did he say about those? Did he give you any clue about the new format?”
“Uh, maybe?” said Willow with a shrug. “Then I showed him a cute picture of Clover and he showed me a trick that he and his palisman have been practicing where he spins and then they both-.”
“Wait, he has a palisman?”
“Oh, shoot!” exclaimed Willow, sitting back up. “You can’t tell anyone! It’s a secret, oh but he’s so cute! Him and Clover get along so well. Oh my titan, I took the cutest picture of them playing when Hunter was telling us about-.”
“Hunter? Who is Hunter?”
“Oh,uh the er golden guard,” Willow said, feeling shy for some reason. “That’s his name. Is that a secret too?”
“I’m not sure,” Amity said. “But I guess it’s just surprising he lets you call him that. But I guess that means the meetings really have been going well huh?”
“Yeah,” Willow sighed, admitting a photo she had taken of Hunter and Flapjack when he wasn’t looking. The bird was looking up at him with so much love and happiness and Hunter gently stroked under his chin, smiling as the sun framed the scene. His jawline was sharp and his eyes were soft, he looked so content and comfortable and cute and- she was starting to suspect this was not a platonic way to look at a photo for five minutes straight as she totally forgot Amity was talking to her.
“...but it’s not like it’s guaranteed or anything, I mean I’m sure he would’ve mentioned it to you by now but we have a few years before it’s an issue and by then my mom might have dropped it, I mean Miss Lilith said I was on track to join the coven but that might not even be something I want by then and-.”
“What? Oh my titan Amity I’m so sorry I… I wasn’t paying attention.”
Amity rolled her eyes endearingly and laughed. “No worries, I was just saying how my mom was excited when she found out the Golden guard had taken over the coven because she thinks she can talk the emperor into an arrangement.”
“Like what kind of arrangement?” Willow asked, scrolling through her collection of photos as she sipped her drink.
“Like one like she and my dad have I think,” said Amty, wrinkling her nose. “A business marriage to try and get me ahead but like that wouldn’t guarantee anything and besides it would be totally-.”
She was cut off by Willow nearly choking to death.
“Hey, woah!” she patted her friend’s back as she caught her breath. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said after she managed to catch her breath. “I… um…Amity, are these meetings supposed to be like a… courtship?”
“Um I guess but my mom knows that I-.”
“Does Hunt- I mean, the golden guard, does he know?”
“Um maybe? I'm sure my mom isn’t the first person to try it, I mean it’s like the oldest trick in the book.”
“Amity, why didn’t you tell me I was basically going on dates with him this whole time?”
“Because my mom is always thinking of something new to get ahead and it never works out the way she- wait, why does that matter?”
“Because what if he thinks that I think we've basically been going on dates that I don’t actually like him I’m just trying to jump ahead into the coven and- why are you looking at me like that?”
Amity offered her a knowing glare before the dots connected and she pointed her finger at her friend and declared dramatically. “You like him!”
“What?!”
“You do! You like him!”
“I- maybe? I might? Kind of?” Willow knew she couldn’t deny it, she also kind of didn’t want to. “I mean sure, we have a lot in common and he’s really smart and funny and then I found out he was cute and I guess I just-.”
“Wait, cute? You saw his face?”
“Yeah, is that a big deal?”
“Well I don’t think he wears the mask because he wants everyone knowing what he looks like,” said Amity. “He must trust you.”
“Great,” groaned Willow, flopping onto the bed. “He trusts me and I’ve been lying to him since the moment we met.” Her voice was muffled by her pillow. Amity sighed and went to pat her back to reassure her but hesitated, not as skilled at comforting others as she wished she was. She cleared her throat and tried to offer a positive thought, but thankfully Willow cut her off as she continued to voice her thoughts.
“The ironic part is I really do feel like myself around him,” she sighed, rolling over to be heard better as she hugged the pillow to her chest. “But if I tell him now he might not believe me or he’ll be upset and then you’ll get in trouble on top of it!”
“I shouldn’t have  put you in this position in the first place,” said Amity solemnly.. 
“I’m honestly kind of glad you did,” Willow admitted bashfully. “I… I really do like him.”
“Well as… unorthodox as your meeting was, I’m happy for you,” said Amity. “I’m sure he likes you too.”
Willow couldn’t help but blush, feeling giddy to finally be open about her crush. She had missed talking crushes with Amity.
“Which probably isn’t ideal since he thinks you’re me, huh?”
“Yeah that’s… probably not great.”
“I mean, he may think you’re a Blight but he knows inside you’re a Park,” Amity offered proudly. Willow simply offered her a look. 
“Was that too much?” Amity winced.
“It was a little cheesy,” Willow admitted with a chuckle. “But you’re right. I care about him and  don’t want to hurt him. So I think I know what I have to do.”
Amity could tell that knowing the right thing to do also meant Willow wouldn’t enjoy doing it.
—-
Willow did not go back the next week.
Or the week after that.
She couldn't help but feel like doing so was leading him on. Even though she knew she felt… a certain way about him,there was no scenario she could think of that didn’t end with him feeling heartbroken or foolish. The Blights were known to be busy, she hoped he’d assume she’d been held up with school or other obligations.
But instead, he broke his own heart because she was too polite to do it.
Which is how he found himself at the Blights’ door.
He waited patiently as the abomination servant fetched Odalia, who greeted him with a smile that lacked sincerity and brought to mind a vampire. How had such a cold place brought forth such a warm person?
There was no turning back now, he would not be scared off by the unfortunate circumstance of her upbringing. Hunter removed his mask knowing it naturally lent authority to his tone and he wanted to assure that this came not as a demand or something official but a personal request from the heart. He had rehearsed it in the mirror for hours, imagined and planned different scenarios of varying grandness but he didn’t want it confused for a spectacle.
“Mrs. Blight, I’ve come here to ask for your blessing,” he said, certain and nervous in a way that made the contraction feel welcoming.
“Blessing? Blessing for what, exactly?”
He took a deep breath to better brace himself and his heavy eyes were serious and sincere as the words entered the world outside his bedroom for the first time.
“I believe I am in love with your daughter.”
“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” she replied with a smug gleam in her eye. “The Blights shine so brightly, of course the emperor’s right hand man can see that clearly. Allow me to fetch her.”
Hunter straightened his spine as Odalia touched her broach and in a moment, Emira appeared beside her.
“Oh, uh I-I’m sorry I meant your other daughter,”
“Oh,” said Odalia. “Heh, my apologies.” She touched her broach and Amity came trudging in beside her sister, trying to keep her composure when she discovered the reason why.
“Oh, uh I guess I meant your other other daughter,” he clarified once more.
“Edric?” Emira said with a raise of her eyebrow.
“Amity,” said Hunter. “Though I know she prefers to go by-.”
“This is Amity, your grace,” said Odalia, bringing Amity forward. “I understand if you didn't recognize her. I know the purple hair is rather unappealing, but we can change it if it isn’t to your liking.”
“No, no that’s not-.” He sighed. “Are you sure there’s no one else here? Anyone who might go by Clover?”
“‘Clover?’” Emira repeated. “Isn’t that the name of-.”
“Um, ya know I think we just need some privacy,” said Amity, nearly jumping out of her skin as she ran to take Hunter’s wrist. “Excuse us won’t you okay byeee!”
Hunter followed her until they were out of earshot, then stopped to demand some  explanation. His confusion bordered on anger, slowly shifting to hurt.
“What’s going on?”
“You’re not in love with me.”
“Well duh,” scoffed Hunter. “I’m in love with Amity.”
“No, no you’re not,” she sighed. “I mean, you are but the Amity you think is Amity isn’t really Amity because I’m really Amity.”
“What?”
 She went and pulled out her scroll and turned to show him a photo. “This is her, right?”
He looked down and saw it was her… whoever she was. She was bright and beaming, smiling the smile he knew meant she had been laughing. 
“Yes,” he said. For a moment, his heart dropped as he considered the notion that she had seen him coming and fled the house in order to avoid this conversation. “So if she’s not here… what’s going on?”
Willow had drafted dozens of letters she didn’t know how to send. No matter how she worded it., the truth just didn’t seem good enough. And now she had let time pass, maybe too much time. But she didn’t know which she was more afraid of: hurting him or admitting she had been hurting him all along. But realistically what did she think would happen? He was essentially a prince. Her reputation labeled her as half-a-witch. Their worlds were never meant to collide, he would be bored of her or outgrow her soon enough. He would never demote himself to her world.
Then she saw him at the end of her garden path, walking to her front door.
No mask, no armor, no walls. Just him. Her heart raced and sank and hid over and over. Was he here to arrest her? To yell at her? To save her? Suddenly, she didn’t care. After weeks that felt like lifetimes, seeing him just made her come to realize how much she missed him. 
He knocked.
She quickly fluffed her hair in the mirror by her front door and took a deep breath before she slowly opened it for him. She didn’t know what to say, if she should greet him, hug him, or if she should have pretended to not be home. Once their eyes met, the words flooded out.
“I’m sorry,” she said with wide eyes. “Are you mad? It’s okay if you are, I’d be mad too. You should be mad, I lied to you. I had a good reason to, I know it’s not an excuse because I kept doing it even after Amity asked me to stop. I just liked you and spending time with you and I promise I never lied about that and I wanted to tell you but I didn’t know how and I-.”
“What’s your name?” He asked.
“I- what?”
“Your name,” he said breathlessly. “Your real name.”
“Willow,” she said. “Willow Park.”
“Willow,” he repeated, like it made the air taste sweeter. It suited it, it felt like it should be so obvious that it was the perfect word to describe her. It was elegant and whimsical and simple in a way that managed to capture all that she was in mere letters. It had music in it, like reciting a fond dream. 
“Well Willow Park,” he said, the name dancing on his lips like prayer as he extended his hand to her. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
She took it. “The pleasure is all mine, Golden Guard sir,”
“Please call me Hunter.”
“Okay,” she said nervously. “Even though I actually don’t have the status of a Blight? You’re still okay with me calling you Hunter?”
“Yeah, I mean that’s what my friends call me.”
“Okay cool,” she said, feeling nervous around him for the first time in weeks. She brushed her hair behind her ear, feeling like he was waiting for her to say more. “So um h-how did you find me?”
“Oh, Amity- the real Amity- told me,” he explained. “When you stopped showing up I went to Blight manor to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m sorry I worried you,” she said softly. “I wanted to explain but I didn’t want to get Amity in trouble and I didn’t want to lie and it was just easier this way. It’s cowardly, I know. But I was worried that if I went to tell you and saw you I wouldn’t be able to go through with it.”
“Oh, okay,” he voice wavered and he cleared his throat to try and hide it. “I uh- t-that’s good to know then. I was also  worried that maybe I had done something to offend you.”
“No of course not! Why would you think that?”
“Well the last time I saw you we um, or rather I lingered in our embrace,” he said, his face reddening with every word. “And I was worried that it may have been inappropriate that you could interpret it as unprofessional.”
She had noticed, but she would have sworn she had been the one lingering.
“That’s definitely not the reason.”
“So then you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she said with a smile. “I’m the one with things to apologize for.”
“Weeeeell that’s not entirely true,” he said with a nervous laugh. “Since we’re admitting things, you or rather Amity I suppose, didn’t need to keep coming because… my uncle stopped requiring it after the second visit. So I… I kind of lied too.”
“And why would you do something like that?”
“Because I liked spending time with you,” he said. “And I would like to see you again,” he cleared his throat to try and summon his confident tone back. “Outside the castle walls.”
Willow smiled. “To do what?”
“Well, uh I know the… situation of how we met wasn’t entirely… ideal “ he continued. “And I eh- hold on, this changes my speech a little.”
“You made a speech?” she said, knowing he made speeches for the most important matters in his life. “For me?”
“I heh yeah I did,” he said with a chuckle. He knew she wouldn’t mock him, her teasing was always gentle and from a caring place. She helped him see the humor in himself, that allowed him to relax for at least a moment.“I… it’s so weird. I had no trouble telling Odalia Blight how I felt about you.Titan, I loved you even when I thought you were a Blight, I considered it the closest thing you had to a flaw and even then I-.”
He looked up and saw her gentle expression was gone and now she looked stunned. Not upset, just surprised. 
“What’s wrong?” He asked, worried he had misread the situation. 
“You just… you just said you loved me.” Willow said as though letting him know he had misspoke. 
“Oh! I mean yes, I did,” he tried to save face. “I did say that because… well… it’s not totally untrue. I mean I was researching dynamics within a friendship and found many of the aspects present in our interactions but then there were other… feelings that were slightly more advanced than ones expressed within a purely platonic relationship. And one day after you left I suppose my face was still rather flushed when a scout saw me and they accused me of being in love and I… I don’t think they were wrong?”
She knew they were young and being in love was something major and brought with more time but Titan she couldn’t deny that she loved hearing him say it. Despite his feeling causing him to be teased and confused and uneasy, he trusted her enough to share it unfiltered. 
“You mean a lot to me too,” she said, trying to balance the sentiments dancing between them. “
“Sorry if I’m talking a lot I just feel like when I don’t see you I save all the things I want to say and they just like flood out because I just feel really safe around you and I know it was only a week but I really missed you, like I miss you every time sorry if that’s weird or-.”
“It’s not weird,” she said, taking his hands in hers. “It’s definitely not weird.”
“Yeah okay,” he chuckled, trying to hide his blush as he couldn’t help but focus on how soft her hands were. “So it’s… okay? I wanted to do this right and not seeing you at Blight manor kind of threw me through a loop. I just pictured it happening a certain way.”
“How did you picture it?”
“Well, worst case scenario you turn me down because it was just something you did for your family and you secretly despise me.”
She giggled, not to make fun of him but because it seemed like an impossible scenario. “And the best case?”
“Well I… I guess this is probably better than the best case,” he said. He balled his fists at his sides and bit his lip, feeling entirely out of his element. 
“Hunter,” she began gently, finding solace in the fact that they felt out of place together. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”
“Yes,” he said, dramatically exhaling unaware he had been holding his breath in the first place. “Oh thank Titan I’m so glad you said something because I did not know where I was going with that.”
They laughed, falling into a comfort they had both missed dearly. 
“So… can we start over?” she asked. “No lies?”
“Sounds good to me, Willow,” he said, getting used to the excitement that came with saying her name now. “So since we’re being honest, do you actually have any interest in joining the emperor’s coven?”
“Not really,” she admitted, sucking her teeth. “Is that okay?”
“Well, technically I’m only supposed to socialize with potential recruits,” said Hunter, pretending to be distraught. “So it looks like I’m going to have to find a way to convince you.”
“Hmmm, that might take awhile though.”
“I’m prepared to arrange as many meetings as necessary to try and enlist you,” he declared in a new version of his ‘official’ voice. “The emperor’s coven can’t let a recruit with your potential get away so easily.”
“So what do you have in mind?”
“Well, I’d love to take you to the botanical gardens we talked about,” he said. “Perhaps one of those flyer derby matches you mentioned or that bakery I pass by on patrol.”
“I’d really like that,” she said with a smile.
“So we… have a new arrangement?” he asked, extending his hand to her before adding just because he liked saying it: “Willow?”
“It looks like we do,” she said, shaking his hand. “As long as you’re prepared to give the speech you wrote for the Blights to my dads.”
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bloodibambiidoll · 2 years ago
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Purple Houses and Paranorman
(Single!Dad Eddie Munson x Single!Mom Reader)
Summary: Eddie asks you and Oliver to go to a special screening of Paranorman with him and Charlotte. WK: 3.9K
Series Masterlist My Masterlist
Warnings: Basically none, modern AU, mention of a dead family member (readers aunt), There’s like one second where Eddie is checking reader out and his thoughts get a little carried away, readers son has a speech delay, reader is implied to be alternative and have tattoos but I don’t talk about it much besides her outfits, fluff fluff and moreee fluff. But as always my blog is 18+MNDI
A/N: So I might have gotten a tiny bit carried away talking about the house, it wasn’t something I originally planned out but it kind of just came to me as I was writing, I’d like for them to all live there together eventually. I’m trying to make it a lil slow burn but I suck at that so hard so we will see how much longer I can go without making them kiss LOL. Also I said these were blurbs and this is almost 4K sooo Oopsie. As always my requests for these guys are open and feedback is greatly appreciated.💜💚
Your phone vibrated and the screen lit up, the contact reading “Eddie🎸🦇” you smiled to yourself before pushing the green accept button.
“Helloooo Edward, what can I do for you on this fine autumn morning?”
“Hey weirdo” He let out a laugh, one you’ve grown to find comfort in over these last few weeks. “What are you and Oli up to today? The theater is doing a special showing of Paranorman and I was wondering if you guys would wanna go with us later?”
“What’s in it for me?” You joked.
“Ummm you get to spend time with your bestfriend and do something Halloween related, which I know you love.”
“Bold of you to assume you’re my bestfriend.” You laughed, knowing he definitely had become the best friend you have but still wanting to fuck with him a little.
“Me? I’m talking about Charlotte, you are her new self proclaimed bestfriend and also you do her hair better than me, apparently. Can’t believe my own daughter likes you more than me.” He sighed dramatically and you could practically see him faux fainting.
“Awww I love her, she’s my new bestfriend too. Verdict is still out on her dad though.”
“WOW I can’t believe you would betray me like this, I thought you loved me.”
“Don’t worry, you’re better at playing monster than me apparently sooo I think we are even. What time do you want to go?”
“I guess we can call it even, for now. How about around two? Gives us a few hours to get the goblins fed and ready to go.”
Jokingly teasing each other had become the norm for you and Eddie, easily falling into flirty banter since the day you met.
“Okay, perfect.”
“Want to meet us there? Or I can come get you guys and we can ride together.”
Something you had noticed about Eddie is how perceptive he was. He picked up early on that you’d avoid going places you’d have to drive especially if you’d never been there before, which in those first few weeks was essentially everywhere. So he always offered to pick you and Oliver up whenever you all did something together.
“Could you pick us up? If that’s okay.”
“I wouldn’t have offered it if it wasn’t okay, babe.” Babe, was something he only started calling you recently but it made you giddy every time.
He was also constantly reassuring you that he didn’t mind helping you when you needed it. He knows how hard it is to do this alone so he was always offering to do anything to make things easier on you. Even if it was something as small as picking you and your son up for a movie. At first you declined his help every chance he offered, used to doing things alone, not wanting to burden him. But he’s told you over and over how he doesn’t mind, that it makes him happy to be able to help you.
So who could blame you if you had developed a not so small crush on him? You tried not to, but he was all kind gestures, big brown eyes and chunky jewelry. So how could you not? It’s not your fault it was like he was your dream come to life. You weren’t positive but you were pretty sure he felt the same. Hugs started lingering just a little longer than they should have, hands started brushing when you followed behind your rowdy children on evening walks, the cute little pet names he would always call you that made your stomach flip, the kisses on the cheek you had started giving each other.
So after you got Oli ready you gave him his tablet and spent a little extra time getting ready. You did your hair in your favorite style and added just a tiny bit more makeup than usual, both turned out perfect. But now you were standing in front of your open closet, staring at it like the perfect outfit was just going to jump out at you.
The October chill had set in throughout Hawkins, the days still sunny but the breeze cold, not quite bone chilling like in mid December, but cold enough that you needed some layers. You were also going to be sitting in a movie seat for two hours even if they were the reclining ones you didn’t want to spend that amount of time sitting in jeans.
After trying on several outfits, you ended up deciding on a black long sleeve skater dress, the neckline scooped just enough to make your boobs look nice. You layered some thigh high socks and leg warmers before pulling on your boots. You grabbed a plain zip-up just in case you got cold in the theater and gave yourself a once over in the mirror.
You couldn’t deny the fact that you looked good, and you hoped Eddie would think so too. He had never seen you this dolled up, usually wearing more comfortable clothes and simpler make-up.
You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, a mixture of emotions going through you. Excitement to see Eddie was in the forefront, but the nervousness was lingering in the background. Are you reading things wrong? Is it smart to get involved with someone that your son has already started to form an attachment to? You took a deep breath, checking your hair one last time before shaking your head as if it would erase those feelings like an etch-a-sketch, willing yourself to enjoy something for once.
When you decided you were as ready as you’d ever be you got on Oliver’s shoes and jacket before grabbing your purse and taking him outside on the porch to wait on the swing. You smiled to yourself as you looked at the porch you spent many summers drinking lemonade with your aunt. The various wind chimes that hung moons and stars and zodiac symbols chime in the mid October breeze.
You loved this house, it belonged to your late aunt who left it to you in her will when she died. It was beautiful but eccentric, kind of like your aunt herself. It stuck out among the many suburban style houses in your neighborhood. It was a late 1800s Victorian style home, with beautiful arches and various types of windows, a wrap-around porch, and a beautiful backyard with a garden that your aunt cared for until the day she couldn’t anymore. You and Eddie had planted pumpkins back there with the kids in her honor, she’s the reason you love them so much after all. They were almost ready to be harvested and carved, a Halloween movie on in the background and the smell of pumpkin seeds baking in the oven.
But what really made the house stand out was that your aunt had it painted a deep purple color, the shutters and roof black, matching the porch. The door was black but it had a beautiful stained glass window in the middle of it, depicting the same kind of crescent moon and stars that dangled from the wind chimes. Inside there were four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living and family room that held a mixture of her old and your new furniture, and your favorite part, the kitchen. It had been updated since the house was built, but still held a vintage feel. Your aunt had the cabinets and drawers all painted the same purple as the outside of the house, wallpaper with those same moons and stars adorned the walls. The only modern thing about it being the fact that she had replaced all the appliances with shiny new ones.
It was a lot of space, too much for just you and Oliver. But you couldn’t bring yourself to sell it, some of your happiest memories were spent here. So you decided you’d take this opportunity and get the fresh start you’ve been needing. You didn’t have much keeping you back home anyways. You and your mom weren’t particularly close but when she found out your aunt left you everything, not just the house, but her money too, she was furious.
Now that you’ve settled you know it was the right choice. Oli started school and despite his struggles with communication he was thriving in class, you got a job at a local diner where you made pretty decent tips, you had this beautiful house, and last but not least you had Eddie and Charlotte.
A large smile stretched across Eddie’s face when he turned down your long driveway and saw you and your son sitting on the porch. He loves your house, he used to drive by it when he would deal to the rich kids in highschool and always admired it. But when you stood up his jaw actually dropped. He had never seen you in a dress before, you always looked beautiful but right now you were fucking radiant.
He got out of his SUV to help you get Oliver’s seat in and you were even more breathtaking up close.
“Wow. You look… wow.” Eddie shamelessly lets his eyes wander your form for a moment, his cheeks turning red when he reaches that little sliver of skin between your socks and your dress.
“Thanks, babe. You’re not so bad yourself, I guess.” You repeated his words from earlier back to him and he cackled.
“Ha ha veeerry funny, brat.” He stuck his tongue out at you.
“Reaaaal mature, nerd.”
“Hi Eddie!” Oli ran over to hug Eddie’s legs and smiled triumphantly, having recently gotten his new friend's name down.
“Hey little dude! How’s a going?” He gave your son a wide smile while he affectionately ruffled his hair.
“Where Char?” He tilted his head to the side, more concerned with where his friend was than answering Eddie’s question.
“She’s in the car buddy, you wanna to say hi to her while I get your seat in?”
He just nodded, grabbing your hand and dragging you around to the other side of the car where Charlotte was, knowing he’s not supposed to walk down the driveway without holding hands.
Eddie couldn’t help but watch you walk away, internally groaning when he saw that same sliver of skin from the back. The dress is long enough to cover your ass, but not by much and he can’t help but imagine flipping the skirt of it up and-
“Eddie? Are you gonna put the seat in the car or are you just gonna stand there and ogle me?”
You couldn’t help but tease him when you turned around and he was just standing there holding the car seat with his mouth hanging open.
“Huh? Oh! Uh, yeah- yeah sorry.” His face turned beat red and he turned his back to put the seat in to try and hide it, but you saw it. At least you know he thinks you look cute, mission accomplished.
Once the kids were all buckled and ready to go you got in the passenger seat and flashed him a smile. He turned towards you and reached under your seat, his leather jacket covered arm going across your thighs where your dress rode up. You tried to act like your heart wasn’t beating a thousand miles a minute whenever you were this close to him, hopefully succeeding.
But Eddie caught the tiniest little squeak that came out of the back of your throat when he first touched you. Feeling satisfied with himself that he had any kind of affect on you because you made him feel like he was in highschool with a crush on a girl he didn’t have a chance with. But you were constantly showing him that maybe he did have a chance with you.
He pulled a bag from under your seat, plopping it in your lap.
“Me and the princess stopped at the dollar store and got your guys’ favorite candy. I figured since the movie theater candy is like crazy expensive we could get the candy before and get popcorn and drinks at the theater.” He said it so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal that he remembered you and your son’s favorite treats. But to you, it was. Every single time you saw him he gave you another reason to fall for him.
“Wow, thank you Eds. That’s really thoughtful of you.” You smiled at him sweetly, the kind of smile that made him feel like he was going to melt into a puddle in the driver's seat.
“Of course Darlin’ anything for my favorite dude and my favorite girl.” He smiled back at you, the kind of smile that reminds you of sunshine that you wanted to bottle up for a rainy day.
He put the car in reverse and of course he had to put his hand on the headrest of the passenger seat while he pulled out. You just wanted to tilt your head up and kiss his wrist where his jacket rode up. You wanted to be close to him so badly, you’ve been trying to find the courage to ask him to hang out, just the two of you but you keep psyching yourself out. You didn’t have anyone to watch Oli anyways and if he wanted that he never hinted at it. Always suggesting things for you to do with the kids. Which you love, having someone think of both of you the way Eddie does is something you’ve never really had. But what you wouldn’t give for just a few hours alone with him, no kids, just being yourselves. But maybe he didn’t want that?
Eddie glanced over at you as he turned onto your street, you were staring out the window, chewing your lip that way you always did when you were thinking hard about something. Usually something that was upsetting you, so he did what any good friend would do and reached across the center counsel to grab your hand.
You whipped your head around at the feeling of his larger hand engulfing yours.
“You okay?” He ran his thumb over the top of it before intertwining your fingers. He had never held your hand before, and you felt your insides grow warm at the feeling. His palm was surprisingly soft against yours, but his fingers were calloused from years of playing guitar and working on cars. The juxtaposition of rough and smooth was more soothing than you ever could’ve imagined.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just got lost in thought for a second. Thank you for checking on me.”
You smiled at him sweetly, squeezing his hand in yours. Expecting him to let go after he knew you were alright but he just held on tighter. One hand on the wheel, the other in yours, hidden from the kids by the center console.
“DADDYYYYY! I want an icee, a blue oneeee!” Charlotte said in a sing-song voice.
“Okay baby, we can get a blue icee.” Eddie smiled at her in the rearview mirror and she clapped her hands in triumph.
“Oli, do you want an icee?” His eyes moved over to the other side of the backseat as he addressed your son.
“Yuuppp! Blueeee!” He said in the same sing song tone as his friend. He was always parroting her and saying things she said back to her and it warms your heart. He’s come so far with his communication skills since he started school and started spending so much time with Charlotte, you couldn’t be more proud of him.
Eddie held your hand up until he parked the car and took the keys out of the ignition. Squeezing it before placing a quick and sneaky kiss on the back of your hand, giving you one of those goofy smiles you love so much and exiting the car like he didn’t just make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.
You got the kids out of their seats and walked into the movie theater, Charlotte and Oliver insisting on being in the middle so they could hold hands too. Eddie showed the guy at the ticket booth the barcode on his phone that had the tickets on it since he insisted on paying for everyone.
“Icee! Icee! Blue!” Oli jumped up and down as he pointed at the machine spinning the different colored slushy ice.
“Yeah baby, I’m gonna get you an Icee.” You chuckled at how cute his excitement was, letting him drag you toward the concession stand with Eddie and Charlotte in tow.
You ordered two small and two large blue Icees and a large popcorn. You go to pull your wallet out of your purse to pay since Eddie bought the tickets but you feel a large hand on yours, pushing it back down.
He already had his card out before you even open your purse, handing it to the woman behind the counter.
“Eddie… you paid for the tickets, it's the least I can do.”
“Nope. My treat.” A triumphant smile spread across his lips and he sent you a wink.
He always did this, paid for you, drove you, brought you little things he saw in the store that reminded him of you or Oli. It’s not like you didn’t have money, your aunt left you plenty of it and you had your job at the diner. But you knew Eddie did well for himself, he had told you some about his childhood, how he grew up with very little and he didn’t want his daughter to ever feel like he did as a kid. So after he finally graduated he and his uncle opened their own mechanic shop. It was fairly successful, their lower prices and more efficient work times drawing in and catering to the less wealthy people of Hawkins.
“Dada I have to go potty!” Charlotte tugged on Eddie’s hand, pouting toward the bathroom sign that was on the way to your designated theater.
“Alright sweets, let’s go potty. Oli and your bestie will go get our seats.”
She shook her head and pouted, looking at you with big round brown eyes, asking without verbalizing, something you’ve became an expert at understanding after having Oliver. Ever since you had all started going on outings together more often she had been asking you to take her to the bathroom. She had hardly ever gone in the girls room, always having to have her dad take her, so after you took her that first time, she always asked.
“Do you want me to take you potty honey?” You smiled at her sweetly, titling your head toward the bathroom.
“Yes! Please! I like going to the girl potty room!”
“Alright little dude, looks like it’s you and me with the snacks and the seats. They have lady business to attend to.” He grabbed the drink carrier from your hand, guiding Oli to walk in front of him into the bright colored double doors that led to dimly lit theater.
You stood outside the stall while Charlotte used the restroom, “standing guard” as she called it.
“Have you ever seen Paranorman before?” You asked her as you helped her wash her hands.
“No but my daddy said it’s a lot like Coraline and I love Coraline so I hope I will like this one too!” She smiled at you in the mirror.
“I’m sure you will, Oli loves it!” You helped her dry her hands before leading her out of the bathroom and into the theater to find the boys.
“Mommmmyyyy! Sit!” Oliver patted the seat on his left, signaling for you to sit down next to him. Charlotte sat to his right and to her right sat Eddie.
You knew you wouldn’t be able to sit by him before you even got here. But he felt like he was a world away with two reclining seats between you, it made you miss the old movie seats, at least then you’d be close enough to reach behind the kids to hold his hand over their heads. You missed his hand in yours the minute he let go, it still felt empty now even as you held the large cup filled with sugary blue slush in your hand.
The movie went as smoothly as it could’ve with two five year olds. You had to shush them both more than a few times and twenty minutes in, Oliver had to go to the bathroom, Eddie took him, he liked going in the boys bathroom just as much as Char liked going in the girls.
When it ended you corralled the kids back into the car, Eddie offering to drive through McDonald’s on the way to your house to get the kids happy meals and they cheered.
The ride was filled with small talk, jokes, and all four of you singing along to different songs on your playlist because Eddie even let you pick the music in his car. He never let anyone pick the music, it didn’t hurt that you had good taste.
When you were a few minutes from your house, just like before Eddie reached over to grab your hand. You took it instantly, intertwining your fingers and looking over at him with a shy smile.
“I had a lot of fun today, thanks for coming with us.” He glanced over at you at a stop sign, his smile sweet and his eyes filled with affection.
“I did too, thank you for inviting us. Next time I’m paying though.” You ran your thumb along his, the soft gesture contradicting the teasing tone in your voice.
“Yeah, we will see about that sweetheart.” He sent you a wink as he turned onto your street, giving your hand one last squeeze before getting out of the car to help you with the seat.
He got Oliver and his seat out of his car, you grabbed your son's hand and he held onto the car seat as he walked you a few feet to your door. He sits the seat down on the porch before turning to Oli and asking him for a high five, he happily obliged, even offering to bump knuckles with him in return.
“I really did have fun today, I love hanging out with you guys, it’s nice… to have someone else to do things with.” Eddie rocked on the balls of his feet with a bashful look on his face.
“It is nice, I’m glad we have you guys. I love spending time with you, both of you.” You were sure the smile on your face was lovesick and dopey but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to care. “The pumpkins are almost ready to harvest, would you guys want to come over and carve them next weekend? We can put a Halloween movie on, make some popcorn, make a whole thing of it.”
“I’d love that, and I’m sure she would too. It’s a date.” His eyes widen as he realizes his choice of words and you can tell he's about to correct himself so you cut him off.
“It’s a date.” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug that he immediately reciprocates, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, his chin resting on the top of your head. You give him a final squeeze before pulling away and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.
“Goodnight Eddie, get home safe.”
He was beat red with a flustered look on his face, you had kissed him on the cheek a few times now, but something about this felt different, more intimate.
“Goodnight sweetheart, sleep tight little dude!!” He waved at Oli before giving your forearm a squeeze and walking back towards his car. You sigh as you watch him drive away, knowing you’ll be counting down the days until next weekend.
Taglist: @comic-harley @yujyujj @witchwolflea @ali-r3n @bmunson86 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @sheneedsrocknroll92 @melodymunson
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imagine-avengers · 3 months ago
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Alpine's Mission
Read about Alpine's Next Mission here
“I’ll see you in two days when you come home.” Spoke Enora as she fussed over her boyfriend.
“Doll, I’ll be fine.” James could see the worry etched on her face. “It’s simple recon. I love you.”
“I love you, call me when you can.” She told him as he grabbed his duffle bag and moved towards the door of their brownstone. Enora wasn’t a superhero like her counterpart, no she was a simple home baker.
“I will. Love you.” Kissing her, Enora smiled up at him once he pulled away.
“Be safe, I love you.” Watching the love of her life disappear, unsure of what was in store for him, well it killed her.
Enora planned to keep herself busy by filling orders. Reading through what she needed to get done for the day, Enora finished baking eight cakes, all for double tier cakes, she made her buttercream frosting for the cakes, and she began her sugar cookies. It was while the cakes were cooling that she realized she needed to eat, which meant so did Alpine. Bucky had left nearly three hours ago, so she was surprised the cat hadn’t found her yet.
Ordering herself tacos, she began to call for Alpine to eat, after five minutes of her not coming, Enora began searching for her, after an hour and a taco delivery that was left abandoned on the counter, Enora had opened a treat container and began shaking it.
“Alpy! Come get treats knknknknkn.” She called for the cat, after she hadn’t showed, Enora immediately dialed Bucky’s number.
“Hi doll,” He answered and was quickly cut off by his girlfriend.
“She’s not her! I’ve searched everywhere!” She panicked, still moving around the house searching for the white furball.
“Who?” Bucky had stepped away from Sam and Wanda to speak to Enora, standing on the other side of the jet.
“Alpine!”
 “Doll there’s no way she isn’t in the house.” He sighed with a shake of his head. “I’m sure she’ll show up soon, you know she liked attention.”
“She isn’t here Buck, I’ve searched everywhere! I even pulled out the treats and you know Alpine doesn’t miss snack time!” She had cried, full on tears were streaming down her cheeks.
“Breathe babe.” Bucky rarely called her babe, only when she was freaking out.
“I can’t! My baby isn’t here!” She cried some more, falling onto their sofa, her heart hurting.
“I’m sure she’ll show up.” He spoke softly, trying to calm her down, before hearing a faint meow from his go bag. “Doll, hold on,” Putting the phone between his ear and shoulder, he moved towards his go bag, Sam and Wanda watching him in wonder. Unzipping the bag, Alpines head popped out. “Fuck, doll,” Bucky sighed as Alpine rubbed against his leg. “she snuck into my bag, she’s with me.”
“She’s with you!” She shrieked, practically jumping off the couch. “Turn the jet around right now! Bring my baby home!” She practically cried, pacing the living room again.
“Dude, your cat is here…” Sam mentioned with a sigh.
“Yeah I see that.” Bucky spoke picking her up, Alpine purring away. “Doll, I can’t just turn the jet around, she’ll be safe waiting for us inside it,” She cut him off, her voice firm.
“James Barnes! That is my baby! She is not going on a mission with you! Bring her home now!” She was yelling at this point, stomping her foot as she spoke.
“Doll, we’ll be home in two days, she’ll be fine promise.” It didn’t sit well with him either having their cat with him but what choice did he have. Alpine meowed hearing Enora’s voice
“If anything happens to her, I’ll kill everyone in that jet.” Enora spoke harshly. “Let me talk to my baby.” She sighed, moving to the kitchen and tearing into her taco bags.
“Doll,” Bucky blushed, knowing he was going to have to put a cat on the phone in front of his teammates.
“I want to talk to my baby James Barnes.” She spoke, hands now on her hips.
“Okay. Al, talk to mom.” He spoke to the cat, putting the phone on speaker.
“Hi Alpy.” Came Enora’s voice, Wanda and Sam shared a look. “You are in so much trouble young lady. How dare you sneak off with daddy.” Sam snickered hearing Enora’s voice, Alpine meowed in response. “Don’t talk back young lady, no treats for a week!” Enora was pouting in their kitchen as she spoke. “You be a good girl and stay put with daddy, be a good girl, Uncle Tony has a storage of kitty food in the back of the jet for you, he put it there when we went to France last year, make sure daddy feeds you.”
“Dude, is your girl talking to your cat?” Sam asked towards Bucky who glared over at him.
“Samuel, you hush your mouth, that’s my baby.” Enora’s voice spoke after hearing Sam before speaking back to Alpine. “You be a good girl and mommy will see you in a few days.”
“Mew.” Alpine whined, her head bumping into Bucky’s own head.
“I know, mommy misses you too baby, I love you sweet girl, mommy’s gonna talk to daddy now.” Enora cooed at the cat before James took her off of speaker. “You watch her James, if anything happens,”
“Doll, she’ll be alright. We’ll see you when we get home. Love you.”
“Love you too.” The two hung up. Enora ate her tacos and spent the next two days stress baking and stressed. She caught up on all her orders, her assistant Sarah helped her as they prepared for a pop up shop happening that weekend. Sarah asked where Alpine was and Enora mentioned she had gone on a trip with her boyfriend. The two days passed slowly, and James called to tell her when they’d be landing at the compound and Enora was rushing inside the compound where Steve was waiting in landing bay.
“What are you doing here?” He asked as the jet opened.
“Alpine!” She shouted rushing at her boyfriend who carried their cat, snatching her from him she peppered kisses over her face. “Mommy missed you so very much.”
“Guess I’m chopped liver.” Bucky chuckled as Alpine meowed, Enora glanced at him with hard eyes.
“My baby was in danger for two days James!” She hissed at him before turning back to their cat. “You don’t get to go to work with daddy anymore.” She pouted, Alpine rubbed her head against her mother’s chest, before Enora glanced at her boyfriend. “Hi.” She smiled softly before standing on her toes to kiss him. “Missed you.”
“Missed you too.” He smiled at her. “I’ve gotta debrief, you gonna wait around?” Enora nodded at that.
“Bring the cat Barnes, clearly she needs a debrief.” Stark spoke. “I’ve already started making her a suit.” Enora’s eyes cut to him, and he visibly flinched. “Or not.”
“Tony, never mess with a woman’s cat.” Steve laughed. “I’ll hang out with them, go debrief.” Steve spoke to his friend before Enora and Alpine followed him up to the common area.
“You can’t do that anymore Alpy, mommy missed her baby, I was so worried about you.” Alpine just purred in her mother’s arms and bathed in the attention.
“She was fine, Clint stayed with her the whole time.” Enora glared at the man before she sat on the couch and cuddled her baby, Alpine purring away in her lap, tail swishing. An hour later, she and Bucky were on their way home, Alpine still in her mother’s arms. Entering their brownstone, Enora set the cat down and she immediately ran to her tower.
“She’s okay, right?” Enora turned to her boyfriend who smiled and nodded at her.
“She’s fine doll, promise, she might be a little needy for a few days.” Enora wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s waist and sighed.
“Never again.”
“I just can’t believe she snuck in my bag.” The two laughed before sharing a kiss, their eyes locking on their baby who was chasing her tail. Life with Alpine was anything but tame, she can go from knocking things over, getting stuck in a bush, to going to work with mom, all the way to sneaking onto an Avengers mission, she was one lucky cat.
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1d1195 · 2 years ago
Text
Protection VI
You can read Protection here. Hard to believe it's only probably four parts left! This got a little bit away from me, I think. I hope it makes sense!
Here we are: 6.5K words.
Warnings: fluff, smut 18+ only , angst(?)
He wished he could meet her mom. Wished with everything in him he could meet the woman responsible for the girl that drove him mad—mad with annoyance or madly in love. It didn’t matter.
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With her new vow to be a downright angel, she knew she was nearly boring to keep watch over. In addition, she had finals coming up; it was hard for her to do anything but study and work. Harry was endlessly helpful and kind. He made runs to get her coffee and read off her flashcards. Quizzed her on all the topics she worried about most throughout the semester, laughing every time she easily corrected his mispronunciation of the scientific words.
“What d’you want t’do once y’get your degree?” He asked.
She smirked. “I’m not sure. At one point I wanted to work for the EPA; sometimes I think about being a professor,” she shrugged. Harry thought if she was his professor, he would have never passed a single class. He would be too busy staring at her. “When I was younger, I watched a bunch of CSI shows with my mom and I wanted to be one of the scientists in the lab. It’s a bit dramatized on TV though, so I put it on the backburner. I could work in the bio-medicinal field,” she explained. “I would get to help make drugs and medicines and things.”
“Y’really like this stuff?” He asked curiously looking at the gibberish words on the cards in his hands.
She smiled excitedly. “A lot, it’s like a puzzle.”
“I’ve done a puzzle before love,” he shook his head. “S’not a puzzle.”
She giggled this adorable giggle that Harry was so smitten for. It was like his favorite song. He started to dream about her laughter. The days he had off seemed endless now—just waiting to come right back to her place and watch a rom-com before she fell asleep. If he had it his way, he would have moved into her second bedroom. He would have requested to be by her side, 24/7.
“When do you do errands?” She asked scribbling something in her notebook. It was approaching nine at night which meant they were going to start a movie to help her relax before she picked up studying as soon as she woke up. Harry was sitting on the sofa as he always did. She sat on the floor, so she had the ability to freely move around her séance circle of papers, note cards, laptop, and textbooks.
“Jus’ usually do it on m’day off,” he shrugged.
She frowned. “We could do them when I’m out and about. It doesn’t seem fair that we’re like...at Target and you can’t grab a few things.”
“S’protocol,” he smiled. Then he chuckled shaking his head at her as she rolled her eyes so hard, she turned her neck along with the motion at his words.
“I hate protocol,” she reminded him.
“I know.”
“When do you see Niall?” He stared at her silently. Wondering how on Earth she knew who Niall was. She glanced at him as she looked over her notes. But then did a double take when he looked at her as if she suddenly grew a second nose. She tilted her head curiously. Harry’s expression went blank as he searched through every moment that he had spoken to her over the last four or so months, trying to remember when he mentioned Niall’s name. After a moment of trying to figure out his hesitation, she giggled, realizing what she had done. “I told you I ran a background check of my own,” she reminded him.
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. She didn’t need a security detail. She was more than capable of protecting herself. Harry was glad he was here all the same, but it was a moment like this that he felt she was independent enough to do whatever she wanted and knew exactly how to save herself. “On m’days off.”
“Did he tell you I ran into him?” She asked.
He shook his head feeling like he was abducted by an alien and put in an alternate dimension. “No,” he put the flashcards on the table. “When did y’see him?”
Her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. “I went to the office,” she told him. His eyebrows rose on his forehead. He blinked at her as if he was just seeing her for the first time.
“You what?” His voice was flat.
“I was sure he was going to tell you about it,” she frowned and looked curiously at her papers.
“I haven’t seen him in a bit, he doesn’t always have the same time off as me,” he explained.
She nodded. “Oh...well, I kind of yelled at your supervisor.”
Harry knew she was...headstrong. He had seen the way she spoke to people who made her mad. But somehow, he had a hard time imagining the girl before him going to a government office and yelling at a grown man. What’s more, he was probably scared of her too. Harry was at a loss for words. No idea what to say or do. “You...yelled?” He was practically breathless. The words hardly reached her ears. She yelled at his supervisor.
She nodded again, easily. Obviously. As if that were a regular occurrence. “It was right after my hospital stay,” she murmured. Harry felt his heart freeze over at the mere mention of that awful weekend. If Harry was around, he was never going to let something like that happen to her ever again. He was sure of it. “When you were acting all weird towards me.”
Harry still felt bad that she noticed that. It took over a week for normalcy to come back to him. His supervisor told him it was unacceptable and made them look bad. Unfortunately, Harry full-heartedly agreed and since he was throwing himself a pity party of feeling terrible about it, he let his supervisor help in making him feel worse. “Oh,” he was still so utterly confused. “M’sorry. M’not really following. I...why did you—”
“I...I really...appreciate how you treat me,” she interrupted. She looked up from her papers. “I really do feel safe when you’re around,” she looked at him shyly, through her gorgeous eyelashes that nearly brushed the bottom of her eyebrows. Harry felt like he was melting into her sofa. He had grabbed her flashcards just so he didn’t do something stupid like pull her into his lap and kiss her until he needed oxygen. “So when...you didn’t want to be around me, I was really sad and hurt. More than I think I would have been if...” she shrugged off the rest of the sentence. Harry knew what she meant: more than the reason why she was at the hospital. “You stopped taking the extra shifts and stuff...and I know that you have your own life but...it’s enjoyable to be around you. I didn’t want to run away from you or do stupid things... or any of my normal stuff. But you didn’t want to be around me,” she mumbled quietly. She swallowed the lump in her throat thinking about how truly awful it would be to not see Harry for any length of time. His standoff nature broke her heart, and it was only a few days. She wasn’t sure what would happen when she no longer needed nor had a security detail. “You were all upset, and it was their fault.”
Harry felt so guilty again. “Oh,” he frowned. “M’sorry, love...I jus’...I was so upset that y’got hurt because of me—”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she shook her head. Her tone said there was no arguing with her. They had gone through this already anyway. There was no use in rehashing it. But Harry would probably feel guilty for the rest of his life.
“I would have blamed anyone that was supposed t’keep an eye on you that day,” he tried explaining once more. “S’not...we don’t have t’make it a thing, but I jus’ want y’to know I feel really guilty about it.”
She sighed. “You shouldn’t,” she said simply. Neither spoke, the silence was comfortable though. It was like a warm blanket. She scribbled a bit and Harry flipped through her index cards. “Favorite tree?” She asked quietly.
“Tree?” He smirked. She nodded. He shook his head with a chuckle and thought about trees. Did he even know if he had a favorite tree? “Uh...oak, I guess.”
“Mine’s a Christmas tree.”
“Oh, no fair,” he pouted. “That’s a good one.”
“I want to get a Christmas tree,” she told him. “Maybe we could do that instead of a movie,” she suggested.
“You’re in charge, love.”
She rolled her eyes. “Only kind of.” He smiled. “Favorite number?”
“I don’t have one,” he admitted.
She blinked. “Hmm. Mine is fourteen,” she told him. “I don’t know why. Just speaks to me.”
He would have to remember that. “Favorite cereal?”
A beat of silence. “Coco puffs, I think.”
“What’s your favorite book?” He asked.
She bit the inside of her lip. “I think I’d rather die than pick.” He chuckled at her response.
*
She put on a Christmas rom-com while they decorated the tree. Harry chuckled at some joke on the TV, but she could not be bothered to pay attention. Harry was helping decorate her Christmas tree. Just like how he helped decorate her apartment with a million flowers. Harry paused his decorating, however, to focus on the movie. He stood in the middle of her living room, hands holding the string of lights while he stared at the screen intently. Invested in whatever was happening. Since she couldn’t be bothered to know even the basic plot, she took that time to gaze at Harry without a care. She wondered if it was possible that he had gotten more beautiful. Or maybe she just looked at him differently now.
Her mom would have loved Harry. She could practically picture her saying oh, he’s very handsome, with a little giggle. She would like how he was snippy with her. In fact, she imagined her mom saying something like, you’re too hard on, Harry. Don’t be so mean. She bit the inside of her lip and closed her eyes tightly to keep from crying. Harry had carried the tree from the car to the apartment with ease. It didn’t even look like it was heavy for him. He’s strong too, that’ll be good when you have babies. She shook her head of the daydream. Babies with Harry. Babies that wouldn’t meet their grandma. God, she missed her mom so much.
“Are y’alright, love?” He asked quietly. She blinked her eyes open. He was looking at her nervously. Like all the other times she was hurt in his presence. She worried he would take her to the hospital just for looking upset.
She nodded. “Just...thinking about my mom,” she mumbled and turned her attention to the tree. It wasn’t a lie, not really anyway.
“M’sorry, love. Did...did your mum like Christmas?”
She nodded sullenly. “Was our favorite.”
He looked at her flowery walls. Poinsettias and snowdrops. Harry wished there was mistletoe fixed to the ceiling somewhere. He would stand under it all day with her. He let her mull in silence about her mum. Maybe it was good to think about her. “I don’t know how y’do it.”
“Do what?”
Harry shook his head and shrugged. “Live. Think I would die without m’mum,” he told her.
She smiled weakly, tiredly. “I think a part of me did,” she shrugged. “But...my mom...” she rolled her eyes, and her smile grew as she thought her over. “Oh, she would have...” she giggled making Harry smile. “She would be so mad if I stopped living just because she did.”
Harry nodded. “My mum’s the same way.”
She had only a small bandage on her hand now. Harry had been taking very careful care of it. Making sure it healed properly and didn’t get in her way too much. “I miss her,” she told Harry. “I miss her every day...” she turned to look at Harry again. “She would have loved you.”
Harry felt some kind of pride that he didn’t know he needed. Knowing her favorite person in the universe would have loved him. “Yeah?”
She was all smiles now. Her giggle was infectious. “She would tell me I was being awful for you.”
“Well, then I love her too,” Harry rolled his eyes and he swore his heart grew to fill the entire space of his chest as she laughed her real, unfiltered laugh. He wished he could meet her mom. Wished with everything in him he could meet the woman responsible for the girl that drove him mad—mad with annoyance or madly in love. It didn’t matter.
*
Since Harry had been helping her study—or even since he started and watched her study, he knew all the signs of frustration and burnout. “Love, maybe a break?” He murmured. She shook her head.
“I hate this class.”
“You’re going t’do great, love,” he encouraged.
She rubbed her temples and sighed. “Can...” she looked at him sitting quietly on the other sofa, he was reading a book. She was so boring now, he could sit and read as much as he wanted. He tilted his head at her. “Are you busy?” She asked.
He smiled at her. “Does it look like m’busy?”
She shrugged. “It looks like a good book, is all.”
“M’not busy. Not for you,” he promised.
Her heart fluttered. He wasn’t too busy for her. She bit the inside of her lip. “Could you help me?” She asked quietly.
He folded the corner of the page down and nodded. “Course, love.”
Her asking for help was a really big deal. Normally, he just helped her. It never got to the point of her asking. Hence why it was so monumental when she was alone in the park and called Harry. It had to be nearly catastrophic when she injured herself in the kitchen and she called out for him instinctively. But somehow this moment outshone both of those. Sitting on her floor, papers spread about. Her needing his help to study was some form of intimacy that he wasn’t sure he could fully articulate how...wonderful it was.
He sat beside her on the floor and took her index cards as he was accustomed to doing. The pile was now at least three hundred cards thick. It was no surprise she was nervous. Harry wasn’t sure how she would retain all of it either. She stared at the study guide rubbing her forehead. “Okay...” she sighed. “This section, molecular symmetry and its relationship to vibrational spectroscopy and bonding, is giving me the most trouble.”
He stared at her as she looked over her notes. Harry set aside the section of index cards she didn’t need. She looked adorable, pursed lips and concentrated expression. He still hated the way her forehead creased with worry. He swore she was always two minutes away from a headache because of it and she failed to drink enough water to support her brain.
If I drank enough water, I would be too much for the world. She told him. I’d be unstoppable.
He must have been staring too long because she turned to look at him. “What?” She asked touching her cheek. “Do I have pizza on my face still, you’re supposed—”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re fine, love. Jus’...I literally haven’t a clue what you’re talking ‘bout. Spectroscopy?” He murmured. She smirked and shrugged. “You should have been a florist. Y’wouldn’t have had t’give yourself headaches,” he explained as he got to the section of index cards she referred to.
“Maybe in my next life.”
He chuckled. “D’you believe in a next life?”
She nodded. “For the sake of my mom I do,” she mumbled.
Harry was looking at her, she could feel it on the side of her face. If she looked at him, she was afraid she would burst into tears and never stop. It was something about her apartment being decorated for Christmas that had her feeling so much more...she was so upset that she would never meet Harry. Harry wasn’t even hers. “Your mum would be really proud of you,” he promised.
“I hope so.”
“I know so.”
She looked at him finally. His green eyes met hers and she thought if he wasn’t her bodyguard, she would kiss him and probably never stop kissing him. She would become part of the floor and kiss him until her mouth hurt. Until her lungs screamed for air. He was perfect. Truly. It was awful she made him work so hard up until the past couple weeks. She would never forgive herself for that. He smiled at her. “Do I have pizza on m’face?” He asked.
She shook her head and blushed as she looked back at her study guide. She had to be careful, or she was going to fail merely because Harry was so pretty just sitting beside her, it distracted her.
*
After three hours of studying, they put on a movie. She was practically asleep before it started. Her body slumped across the couch. Harry glanced at her eyes, practically little slits. “Can y’even see?” He asked.
“See enough,” she mumbled. He stood up and draped a soft blanket with a Christmas tree pattern over the length of her. She was in leggings and a long-sleeved T-shirt. She was so pretty. Her hair was pulled to a bun on the top of her head and Harry just wanted to kiss her sleepy, pretty face. She sighed. “M’gonna fall asleep.”
“S’okay, love,” he chuckled sitting back on the other couch.
“M’too tired to get to my room.”
“I can carry you.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
He rolled his eyes and let out a note of laughter. “I don’t mind.”
“I do. M’too heavy.”
“You are not. S’this a comment on m’muscle tone?”
She snorted and cuddled the throw pillow closer to her face. It smushed her cheek against the fabric. Harry wanted to put her in his pocket, she was so adorable. “No...I don’t know...I mean—When do you even have time to work out?”
“I usually jus’ workout in m’time off, or while you’re asleep.”
“You go home at midnight and do a workout?” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t even want to do a workout past five in the evening.”
He smiled. “You’re not heavy,” he repeated.
“M-hmm...I think I ate my weight in pizza today.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re so stubborn.”
She smiled. “Leave me here,” she mumbled and drifted off to sleep. But Harry was stubborn too, so he carried her to her room. If he could, he would have taken a video of the pair of them just to show her.
“Harry,” she murmured sleepily once she was lying in her comfy bed. Harry’s heart felt like it was going to explode. Her eyes didn’t open, and she didn’t speak again. In fact, she had fallen asleep around him a lot and he had never heard her talk while she dreamed. He wanted to lay down right beside her, hold her, squeeze her. Tell her that he adored her and everything: her exam, stuff with her dad, her missing her mom, and everything her beautiful, brilliant mind worried about would be okay.
But instead, he gently smoothed part of her hair back and left her to dream.
Hopefully, about him.
*
Harry walked up to her apartment and waved to the agent outside as he looked down at his phone. He brought her a coffee to celebrate the end of her exams. The agent left and Harry waited until he was fully gone to let himself into her apartment.
She was on the phone and smiling like it was already Christmas. Like she had gotten the best gift of all.  Harry smirked and placed his stuff at her dining table and then held the coffee up for her to see. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from squealing. Harry settled her cup down on the table as well as she spoke to the other end of her phone. “Thank you. Thank you so much,” she said gratefully. “Happy holidays. Have a wonderful break.”
The moment her phone was on the counter she was running across her apartment and throwing herself at Harry. He staggered back a step at the impact. Her arms tossed around his shoulders, and she sighed as she breathed into his shirt. He was taller than her of course. By at least half a foot. She was on her tiptoes, and it felt like magic to hold her.
Harry felt like when she did this back in August. However, this time obviously didn’t have the hidden pretense of needing protection from some guy that couldn’t take a hint. This was real. She was really throwing herself at him and giggling like a madwoman. He wrapped his arms around her waist giving her a returning squeeze. “Mmm...y’okay there Miss Wildflower?”
She was jittery. But in a good way. She pulled from him, dropping her arms to her sides. Harry regretted asking her if she was alright. He would have much preferred her in the circle of his arms. “My professor emailed me asking me to call him,” she was giddy. Harry was in love. There was no longer a question about it. Her smile, her eyes, everything about her made his chest ache with adoration for her. “I...” she was nearly breathless. “Harry, I got the highest grade on the final.”
He rolled his eyes. Naturally he was proud and happy for her but it wasn’t all that surprising. “Of course, y’did, love. You’re brilliant and y’studied for ages.”
“No, Harry...like...ever. The highest grade ever.”
Oh. That was different. He tilted his head and smirked now understanding her excitement a little more. “Oh?”
She nodded excitedly, rocking back and forth on her feet. “He’s been teaching this course for...” she rolled her eyes. “Over twenty-five years...he was so impressed. He wants me to be his TA next semester, he wants me to do research. He thinks I should be a professor—especially because he wants to retire soon...Harry,” she was still practically bouncing with excitement. She was so adorable Harry didn’t know where to look. “Thank you,” she sighed her expression was so soft. Harry was melting for her. Right onto the floor. Just a puddle of the man he once was.
“Me?” He was shocked she was thanking him. He didn’t do anything. All he did was hold some index cards and mispronounce words for her.
“You helped me study so much...I,” she sighed. “I know I was a pain, and you didn’t deserve all that and you certainly didn’t have to help me after all that either. The studying, the crying about everything, the coffee, the...just putting up with me. It is just...thank you, truly. I am so happy. So unbelievably happy I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in m—”
Harry’s mouth was on hers.
Her brain short-circuited. Harry’s pretty pink lips were finally between hers. His hands were on each side of her face. His body curled down toward her as he kissed her. His lips were soft. So soft she wondered what chapstick he used—literally almost pulled away just to ask. But she was certain she would never pull from his lips. If she died from lack of oxygen, it would be okay. Except she worried Harry would have to do paperwork on it. Her eyes fluttered closed as soon as she felt the touch of his mouth.
Her hands fisted the sides of his shirt pulling him closer toward herself. His tongue gently stroked over her lower lip and then carefully probed at the space between her barely open teeth. Asking for silent permission to let it in her mouth. She moaned when his tongue licked hers. She could feel his heavy inhale and exhale from his nose as he breathed in and out.
Oh, it was so much better than she could have imagined. Better than she could have dreamed. She turned her face upwards allowing more access given his height. He pulled from her mouth, allowing her to breathe. But his lips didn’t stop, he kissed down the side of her throat, making her heart hammer out an unsafe rhythm. She didn’t dare speak; worried she would somehow ruin it.
This cannot be protocol. Why on earth would she care about protocol right now?
If she brought attention to the fact that Harry was willingly kissing her, he would probably stop. He seemed like the type. But instead, he brought his mouth back to hers, curled his arms around her middle long enough to almost crush her to his body. He got her toes off the ground, never stopping his kiss as he maneuvered blindly over to the sitting area. He guided her back carefully, so she went down gently on the sofa and Harry followed right after her, hips between her thighs. She groaned softly at the feeling of Harry pressing against her. This was an awful day to wear jeans. The stiff fabric had no give for her to fully feel and enjoy the way Harry grinded against her. Her leggings would have been much better. One of his hands rested at the back of her neck, his fingers gripping lightly on her hair so he could tug her closer to his mouth. The other touched her side, stroked down over her hip that bent around his waist before he slid down to her outer thigh.
“Harry,” she whimpered his lips breaking from her mouth for a moment to kiss along the side of her neck that didn’t receive attention before.
“What, love?” He mumbled. His voice seemed deeper, sexier.
She was aching everywhere. Harry wasn’t close enough. She wanted him everywhere. Wanted him to fix the ache. She had never needed anyone. Not once in her adulthood had she ever needed help from anyone nor needed anyone so much that her bones ached.
But she had never met Harry until this year. Now she wanted him to make the ache go away. “Please,” she begged.
“Please, what?” His lips brushed over the hollow space at the bottom of her throat. “Tell me,” he murmured. “I’ll give y’anything y’want,” his lips pressed to her collarbone and moved further south down the V of her T-shirt. She made an embarrassing little whiny sound out of her throat. She arched toward his mouth. Desperate for his kiss, his touch. All of it. “Tell me, love.”
She felt dizzy because despite all the stupid things she put him through, she believed he really would do anything she asked of him. The hand on her thigh moved back up toward her shirt and slid just below the hem so his fingers skimmed over her stomach. “Please,” she begged.
“‘Please’ what, kitten?” His voice was so gentle, deep. She wanted to drown in his voice. It made her chest ache to be called a new name. Honey set her on fire. Kitten was going to send her heart to the moon.
But he was smug too. He knew exactly what she wanted. Exactly. He was refusing to give it to her. Refusing to put his hand between her thighs. He brought his lips back to hers, kissing her plead, her question, all rational thought out of her mind.
“Want you,” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
She nodded. It was hard to keep calm when he spoke so gently. When his lips tasted so good and felt so soft. “Please?” She begged again.
“Love,” his voice was gentle. “I want you so bad,” he promised. Her heart felt like it was about to fly right out of her ribs and across the room.
But she still had one little neuron firing in her Harry-obsessed mind. His tone had a ‘but’ in it. She wanted to go back to kissing before she asked. Wanted to feel the lightness that drenched her and Harry as he sprinkled her with hundreds of kisses. Kisses, that if she was being honest with herself, she wanted since the day he knocked on her door for the first time.
But instead, his tone just made her feel terrible. She dropped her head back against the cushion. “S’not protocol,” he mumbled. He trailed his kisses back up her neck.
“Oh for...Harry, fuck protocol,” she moaned. She felt too warm. He chuckled against her making the little breath of laughter tickle and cool her skin. She thought she was going to pass out. She yanked on his shirt hard, trying to get him closer but she sensed it wasn’t going to happen. No matter how hard she tried.
“Easy, love.”
“Easy?” She felt agitated instantly. “M’gonna combust,” she told him breathlessly her head turning to the side.
“Good,” he said smugly pressing a wet kiss to the side of her neck. She flopped back miserably against the sofa again and looked at him through her lashes in that way that drove him crazy with adoration for her.
“You don’t...want me?”
“Kitten,” he tutted disapprovingly. He pressed his hand against her cheek. “Obviously, I want you.” Ever so subtly, his hips dipped against her leg, pressing his hard length against her thigh as proof.
“It’s not obvious,” she frowned sullenly. Even with his erection, it didn’t mean anything. He could just be horny, and she didn’t see Harry with other women often—well ever. She was here and he could just enjoy kissing or whatever. “Then—”
“M’sorry, love s’protocol,” he smirked sadly. “I jus’ want to—”
“Harry, what about me says I give two shits about protocol?” She groaned throwing her arm over her face.
He pulled it away and brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I know, kitten,” he kissed the tip of her nose. “I want to,” he promised. “But...I can’t. I can’t right now.”
“Why are you on your period?” She rolled her eyes.
“Would never pin y’as a horny thing, love,” he pressed his lips to her ear. “Is that why y’tense all the time? Just need t’come?” She was silent. Unwilling to be bated by his words into revealing something about herself or admitting she was so fucking hot for him. “M’not gonna...do this with you...not while m’working.”
“You sure know how to make a girl feel like she’s begging for sex.”
“Pretty sure y’could convince anyone t’have sex with you without begging.”
“Look in the mirror,” she muttered.
“I adore you,” he promised. His hand cupped the side of her face. “Obviously.”
She pushed him away. “So...what? We’re just going to...make out and dry hump?” She asked, frustration laced in her voice. She paced away from him quickly. Going to her room and shutting the door behind her. It wasn’t to avoid Harry. Actually, she wanted nothing more than to throw herself back at him, immediately. But if he was going to be rational, then she needed space so she could be rational too.
He knocked gently on the door. “Love,” he hummed. “Open the door.”
“No.”
He tried the handle and then sighed when it didn’t move. “Jus’...let me explain.” She waited silently. Now that she could breathe air that wasn’t heavy with Harry’s cologne or with just the scent of him, she was thinking a little more clearly. A little more like herself. He sighed again. “God, you’re annoying,” he mumbled. “I jus’...I can’t...take advantage of you,” he told the door.
“I want it,” she said petulantly. Like Harry was candy that she was being denied on Halloween.
He laughed behind the door. “I know, love. Me too.” She waited in silence again. “I don’t want t’do this while m’working. S’not fair.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s...” there was a small thunk against the door.
“I swear to God, Harry. If you say it’s protocol...” He didn’t speak giving her the answer she needed. “Why’d you kiss me then?” She groaned. “You got me all worked up.”
“I know, love. M’sorry. It was a moment of weakness...I shouldn’t have—”
“So, you really don’t want me?” She repeated sadness on the edge of her voice.
The idea that she was worried about Harry wanting her was killing him. “Kitten, open the door or I’ll break it down.”
She unlocked it and it was out of the way. His lips were back on hers in an instant. Brought her mind right back to the frenzy she felt moments ago. Her breath was lost in his mouth. He cupped her face and pecked at her upper lip as he started to chat with her. “Want nothing more than t’get y’out of your clothes and lay y’down and kiss every inch of your skin.”
If his tongue went in her mouth again she wasn't going to be able to think...maybe ever again. “But?”
“But...s’not...”
She pushed him away as much as she didn't want to, flopped onto her bed with a huff. “Harry, please,” she sighed. “What are we supposed to do? I don’t want you to not be on my detail. But we can’t...be...physical?”
“No...” he smirked. “No, we can’t.” She gazed at him curiously as he emphasized the pronoun. Harry sat beside her touching the inside of her jeans, following the seam to the middle of them below her zipper. Somehow his touch could be felt through the rough denim. She was certain if she was wearing leggings she would have come already. “I don’t want to get fired.”
“Pretty sure you’d get fired for this,” she whispered breathlessly.
He chuckled. “M’not explaining it right, love.”
“No, you’re not. M’feeling very unwanted. Which you know is...like really bad for my psyche,” Harry’s hand was literally between her thighs. He was breaking all kinds of protocol and she was still being annoying about his lack of attention to what she wanted more.
“Honey, I want you so badly,” he promised and brought his other hand to her face. He leaned down to kiss her softly. His fingers tapping almost rhythmically against the center of her jeans. “I can’t have sex with you while m’working. S’a recipe for disaster.” His fingers moved to her zipper, pulled it down. Moved back to her button, unclipped it from it’s place. "We'll figure it out, I'll kiss you and touch y'as much as y'want...but y'gotta lemme do this my way, please," he looked at her apologetically. "Know it doesn't make sense," his fingers were touching the elastic of her underwear. Her breathing hitched. “M’gonna take care of you, now. Okay? S’got nothing t’do with me or the job. S’all you, love. Y’deserve t’feel good.”
“You’re not making any sense,” her voice lacked air—it barely carried to his ears.
“I know, can’t think straight with y’looking so pretty like this,” his fingers dipped in between the opening of her jeans and the outside of her underwear. She moaned softly as his fingers moved over her. Her breath caught in her throat. Swore it stole the oxygen that went to her brain. There were no more brain cells in her head for rational thought. Thank God she took all her exams. “Y’better not fake it for me either. I know the difference in sounds y’made between the guy y’had here in September than when y’use your vibrator.” She wished she could feel embarrassed or angry toward him, but Harry’s fingers were pinching so softly but expertly at her clit she wanted to scream.
She didn’t know Harry could hear her.
“Y’make it so obvious, love. Moaning so loud for someone. S’not how y’do it. Y’get all breathy. Quiet. Hiding it. I know y’hide how y’feel...I don’t know why...but don’t y’dare think ‘bout lying t’me.”
That wasn’t going to be a problem. She had imagined Harry all over her so many times before. She was going to come in twenty seconds. “Oh...” she moaned arching into his touch. His hand slid lower, pushing her underwear out of the way and sinking a finger inside her. “Harry, please,” she begged.
“Oh, s’nice t’hear y’say please, love.”
Oh no. He was going to torture her.
“Didn’t know y’knew how t’be good.” Her toes curled. She tilted her hips up toward his fingers begging for more friction between her thighs. “Thought y’jus’ knew how t’be a pain in the butt. Didn’t know y’had manners.” Her brain was literally fried. It was an entity outside her body. The only thing she knew was Harry’s fingers on her body and his voice. His lips were pressed to her ear as he spoke. All while massaging his fingers in her folds, around her clit, and dipping inside her aching hole. It was like he was in the dark and could only use his sense of touch to find all the spots that drove her mad. She wanted to keep his hand in her pants every moment of every day. His fingers were so long and perfect and she could almost forgive him for not going further.
“Gonna listen t’me?” He asked. She nodded, gasping for air that didn't smell like Harry but enjoying that it did. “Say it,” he murmured. “For all the times y’didn’t.”
“I’ll listen,” she gasped.
“Good,” he continued rubbing leisurely. It was working her up beyond comprehension. She thought about whining at him. Or begging again. He seemed to like that enough that he might take pity on her.
But fortunately, he didn’t make her wait long.
“Come.” The knot in her stomach came undone without her even realizing it was there and ready to unravel. Her eyes fluttered as her body arched toward him. He pressed his mouth back over hers, licking her tongue. “S’a shame he couldn’t do that for you,” he murmured in her ear as her breathing settled. He gently removed his fingers from her pants, zipped and buttoned her back up.
Unironically, it felt like she had been drugged, the waves of dopamine coursing through her. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly as she watched Harry place his finger in his mouth and draw it out slowly. “Can’t wait t’taste you firsthand, kitten.”
This had to be the best day of her life. She passed her exam, she had a job opportunity, a mentor...she had...Harry and his lips and his fingers. Even if she had to figure out why he didn’t want to fully have sex. It didn’t matter. Having Harry like this, lying on her bed looking at her like she was...beautiful...
It was Christmastime. It was perfect.
She was happy. Really happy.
For all the bad stuff that happened to her, all the bad things she felt, it was nice to finally have something good. To have Harry beside her...to have finally kissed him. Those hearts in her eyes had to be back. But she swore as Harry smiled at her, she saw them in his as well. Her brain didn’t need to think about chemical bonding, O-rings, or compounds for a while. She could focus on Harry, his lips, and their movie list.
So why in the bliss of this perfect day, did a foreboding cloud of anxiety take over her mind?
--
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possibilistfanfiction · 1 year ago
Note
surgeons au word prompt - "breathless"
[early days, also if u like climbing this is a bonus fun one lol]
//
you’re already kind of gassed when beatrice gets to the gym, mostly hanging out on the mat with marco and watching jehan slip from a hold on a new v6 over and over again. 
the first time you met beatrice, a few years ago, when she had just moved and was new to the gym, she had climbed a few lower grades and stretched and then quietly and calmly puzzled her way through a hard v7 that you’d been trying to send for days. she’s, like, totally sick and also really reserved, so it’s extra cool when she sits with you and asks about how your landscaping job is going or how your cat is enjoying the new perch you’d gotten, always remembering the most important parts of all the stupid shit you tell her. 
you — and the rest of the guys, too — have also been trying to set her up for, like, two years now. in your opinion, you’d had the best shot with lucia, who you’d flirted with at the coffee shop next door until she laughed kindly and told you she wasn’t interested in men. which, totally cool, because obviously, no offense to jehan, but his sister kind of sucks, so of course that was going to be a bust with someone as cool as beatrice. 
disappointingly, though, she and lucia had decided to just be friends, a huge bummer because beatrice would’ve had a hot girlfriend and danny would’ve owed you twenty bucks, but it’s cool. she climbs on her days off from work — it’s, like, fucking wild to actually know a surgeon — and blows you all out of the water with what seems like just a moderate amount of effort. 
today, though — in addition to the free barbecue your boss had bought for lunch — fucking rocks, because someone very pretty walks in, holding hands with beatrice and smiling as they talk animatedly, using a cane with most steps but gesturing with it when something in their conversation is extra exciting, which makes beatrice smile a smile you’ve definitely never seen before. she had very briefly mentioned a few weeks ago that she had gone on a first date, blushing profusely when you had gotten excited and then flying up a few routes in quick succession, which had made you laugh. you hadn’t gotten anything else out of her, but you’re not offended because she mostly just listens and climbs, always willing to talk you through a route that you’re struggling with that she’s sent before. 
‘hey beatrice,’ you greet, maybe too eagerly, when she stops by the cubbies to put her clogs and jacket away. 
she smiles though — not the same one as earlier, but definitely kind still. ‘hey sam.’ she turns to the person next to her, who is grinning, bouncing on their toes a little even. ’ava, this is sam, one of my friends here. sam, this is ava.’
there’s no more explanation, and you’re momentarily a little worried that ava’s feelings might get hurt, but their happy expression doesn’t change a bit, and they shake your offered hand enthusiastically.
‘i’ve been asking bea for weeks if i could come watch her climb.’
beatrice, for her part, doesn’t change course from where she’s slipping on her climbing shoes, situating a beanie — typical in general for her, but not this pale blue she has on right now — after she’d taken her hoodie off. her t-shirt is also new, worn and faded from a school you know she definitely didn’t go to, and it’s kind of, like, the best day ever. your mom always reminds you that, sometimes, you come on a little too strong when you’re excited, so you take a deep breath and remind yourself to be totally normal.
‘bea’s amazing,’ you say, normal but honest too. 
ava looks toward beatrice fondly. ‘she told me that she was competent, which, in beatrice translation, means totally fucking awesome.’
you laugh.
‘and,’ ava adds, following when beatrice nods once and then chalks her hands, keeping it all inside her bag so neatly — enviable, always — and then stands, silently, in front of a v3, ‘i imagine it’s, like, really hot.’
thankfully, beatrice doesn’t turn around, so she misses your absolute beaming smile at ava. theoretically you guess they could be friends, but you’ve never seen beatrice voluntarily touch another person in two years, so you think, for someone to get to hold beatrice’s hand, to make her happy like that, probably means they’re something. 
beatrice glides through the route, smooth and patient, just warming up, and ava sits down on the edge of the mat next to you and sighs.’ i love being right.’
you laugh. ‘that’s just a warm up for her too.’ sure enough, beatrice stretches a bit and then climbs up and down two v1s in quick and easy succession. she’s calm and fast; even if you can sometimes send routes she’s, honestly, just a little too short for, you’re fairly certain you never make things look effortless. 
‘are you gonna try climbing?’ you ask, because it’s easy and because ava’s only half paying attention to you anyway. jehan and marco start talking to beatrice about the route they’ve been stuck on, and she puts her hands on her hips and looks at it critically, ava watching the whole time.
‘nah,’ he says. ‘i’ve got a lot of hardware in my spine.’ he turns his back to you, and you see a few scars between his shoulder blades, up to the middle of his neck and going down below the hem of his tank too. 
‘dude, gnarly,’ you say, which, like, whoops, maybe, but you’re super relived when ava just laughs.
‘keeps me up and walking most days, but i don’t think i can do that.’ she gestures over to where jehan has gotten stuck, once again, on an admittedly difficult crimp on the overhang. 
‘well, to be fair,’ you say, as jehan walks over to you both in easy defeat, ‘neither can he.’
‘ha ha,’ he says, then smiles and sits down next to ava, offers his hand and introduces himself. ‘you’re here with beatrice?’
‘yeah,’ ava says, softening a little. ‘i’m her — we’re dating? i guess?’
jehan hums, taking his shoes off for a break and sitting back on his hands. ‘well, we’ve tried to set beatrice up with people for years now, and no one has really gotten past a second date, so i’d say you’re doing great.’
ava laughs, delighted. ‘we’ll circle back to all those failed dates later, because that could definitely be mostly your fault.’
‘hey—‘
‘but, i don’t know.’ ava shrugs. ‘i met her at work and things have just felt, like, really good. easy, even if she’s so quiet sometimes. makes my rambling even worse.’
you all laugh. ‘happens to the best of us,’ jehan says.
‘you’re a surgeon too?’
ava nods, a little pride straightening their spine, lifting their shoulders. ‘i’m still just an intern, but, yeah.’
‘that’s so cool,’ you say, and jehan nods in agreement. ‘jehan’s an engineer —‘
‘— very boring —‘
‘— but i barely graduated high school. i can’t imagine eight years after that, jesus christ.’
ava nods. ‘i have a phd, so even more than that.’
‘jesus christ.’
she just laughs. ‘bea was actually my boss, but i charmed her so much she admitted to the chief of surgery she “had feelings for me” and “needed me to switch to another resident’s service” so she could “pursue something.”’ the air quotes give you a moment of pause but then ava gets all soft. ‘which is awesome, because now we can actually date instead of just, like, yearn or whatever.’
‘ah, the yearning,’ marco says, joining you. ‘sounds gay.’
‘it’s about beatrice,’ you say, ’so, yeah, definitely.’
marco introduces themself and gives ava a high five. ‘are you, like, co-yearning now, or do we need to pester beatrice into committing?’
ava’s smile turns smug. ‘oh, she’s committed.’
the three of you whoop happily, which causes beatrice to turn toward all of you with a glare. it’s not intimidating, though, because her eyes are soft when she looks at ava, who shrugs with a smirk.
‘oh, you’re like, beatrice kryptonite, aren’t you?’ marco asks.
‘maybe she’ll finally get dinner with us tonight then,’ you say, excited about the prospect of beatrice actually coming with you to the brewery next door rather than saying next time again and again. ‘if you’re, like, not busy, obviously.’
ava gets a little distracted by beatrice carefully setting her hands on the wall, but he shakes his head. ‘no, we both have tomorrow off. but you owe me a round if i can convince her.’
‘oh, deal. easy.’
ava returns your fist bump but watches, a little breathless, as beatrice gets to the hold that’s been getting all three of you all afternoon. of course — of course — she breezes right through it, getting a foothold that you’d all missed too to send the route.
‘first try,’ jehan whines. ‘not fair, beatrice.’
she laughs from the top of the wall, then climbs halfway down and lands silently on her feet, walks over to you and sits on the edge of the mat.
‘have they been bothering you?’ she asks.
ava shakes her head, delighted. ‘definitely not. i’ve divulged all of your greatest secrets, though.’
beatrice rolls her eyes but she’s clearly happy, happier than you’ve ever seen her, for sure, comfortable and, when she gets up to do one of the hardest routes in the gym, a horrible v10, marco laughs. ’oh, now she’s just showing off,’ they say.
‘yeah,’ you agree when beatrice decides to just dyno the last hold, totally insane, ‘she never climbs like this just for us.’
‘well,’ ava says, ‘i am prettier, no offense.’
you all laugh, and you finally get the v6 with beatrice talking you through it, ava cheering you on. you climb for an hour longer — mostly, you watch beatrice climb and talk to your friends — until she gives up on a v8 and calls it. 
she sits down next to all of you, the kind of tired only climbing makes you, and slips her shoes off. 
‘bea did a six hour valve replacement today,’ ava says, looking at beatrice with overwhelming affection and easily identifiable pride, nothing hidden. ‘so this was extra crazy.’
‘fucking nuts.’ jehan bumps his knuckles with beatrice, who just looks down at her hands, dusting the remaining chalk off, shy all of a sudden, before she stands and pads over to the cubbies to put her hoodie on and gather her things. 
‘she’s, like, our favorite,’ you say. ‘just so you know.’
ava nods, gentle. ‘yeah. she’s my favorite too. it’s good to meet you guys; she loves coming here, even if she won’t tell you.’
you shrug. ‘she shows us everything we get stuck on, so we know.’
beatrice walks back over to get her shoes and, presumably, also ava. 
‘we were just talking about you,’ ava says with a grin, far, far too confident for beatrice to not be wary of. 
‘hmm?’
‘yeah, how you and i are gonna join your friends for dinner next door.’
‘oh, i — uh, well, we have food at my house, and —‘
ava just bats her lashes and puts a hand on beatrice’s hip, runs her thumb under beatrice’s t-shirt for, like, one whole second, before beatrice gives in.
‘fine,’ she says, not sounding overly enthused but she’s relaxed and happy so it’s all a front anyway. and, this time, gentler: ‘fine.’
ava just kisses her cheek and then turns to the three of you and winks.
‘oh, you’re lethal,’ marco says while jehan laughs.
‘one round on me,’ you tell ava.
‘this was a bet?’ beatrice asks, as indignant as she can possibly be holding ava’s hand carefully and still blushing from being pecked on the cheek. 
‘only a bet if there’s a chance for both sides to win,’ ava says, smug as hell, which makes you laugh. ‘but whatever, i want a burger.’
beatrice sighs. ‘well, then, let’s go, i suppose.’
ava ends up getting free rounds of beers for everyone, somehow charming the server, and beatrice just watches quietly, comfortable and pleased.
‘happy for you, dude,’ you say when marco and jehan are showing ava their favorite pinball machine. 
beatrice smiles, genuine. ‘thank you, sam. i’m sorry if i —‘ she shakes her head — ‘i’m glad we get to climb together.’
‘you’re a dope climber,’ you say, ‘and a dope friend. i’m glad too. and ava’s fucking rad.’
beatrice laughs, looks over to where ava is cheering for herself, succeeding at one level of pinball. ‘yes, he is.’
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stargazer-sims · 7 days ago
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Journal Entry #35
previous // next // story index
__________
Victor
It’s been an interesting week.
I feel like I say that a lot, but maybe it’s because over the last several months we’ve had a ton of stuff going on in our lives, and I don't really know how to describe it. Sometimes it's hard to take it all in.
Yuri and I have been getting along better since our unexpected overnight stay in the Hideout. We really needed to get some issues out in the open. The fact that we got stuck there might’ve been a blessing in disguise because it gave us a chance to talk without being concerned about interruptions.
Unfortunately, despite our progress, it hadn’t been a great night. I'm sure Yuri was in a lot more pain than he wanted to admit and I’m certain the accommodations weren’t all that comfortable for him. His pain was making him restless, and he kept waking up through the night. I didn’t get much sleep either. I was too worried about him.
In the morning, he insisted he could climb down from the Hideout by himself. I didn’t like the idea, but I didn’t argue. I just told him to take his time. Getting down felt like it took ages, but we both made it to the ground without incident. Yuri let himself collapse once his feet hit solid earth, which was totally understandable in my opinion. I sat on the leaf-covered dirt and held him on my lap so he could rest for a while before we started making the short journey back to Mom’s house.
Mom was none too pleased when when we finally showed up. Apparently, she’d been texting both of us like crazy since the previous night, but since we’d both left our phones at the house, we hadn’t replied. She said she was about to go out looking for us, so it was lucky for everyone that we came back when we did.
I think Mom probably would’ve given us a lecture, but considering the state Yuri was obviously in, it seemed she thought better of it. She hugged me and made a sort of air-hugging gesture in front of Yuri, and then told us to get cleaned up. She said that she and Julian had intended to go to the farmers’ market, and with our return, the plan was back on the agenda. She’d see us when she got back, she said, and she extracted a promise from me that I’d give her a full explanation later.
I had absolutely no intention of telling her everything, but I figured I could explain in sufficient detail to satisfy her. There are some things a guy’s mother doesn’t need to know about what goes on between him and his husband, you know what I mean? I used to tell her almost literally everything, but I’m finding that lately I’m less and less inclined to share every little detail with her.
After Mom left, we went downstairs and I helped Yuri in the bath. Then I got him dressed in the warmest PJs he had with him, made sure he took his medication, and tucked him into bed with his hot water bottle. I asked him if he wanted me to stay with him for a while, but he said no, so I gave him a little kiss on the forehead and promised to check on him in an hour or so before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind me.
That was Sunday. By Tuesday, which was the day before yesterday, he was doing better, much to my relief. He got out of bed when I did, and even had a few bites of my fruit salad at breakfast.
I’ve gotten used to him picking food off my plate rather than always having a plate of his own. When it comes to eating, whatever is least stressful for him works for me. I’ve even been known to feed him when he’s really ill, as I'm sure I've mentioned before. I mean, needs must, right? I’m willing to go with anything that keeps him from becoming undernourished, and if that sometimes involves me holding the spoon, so be it.
Actually, the topic of me feeding Yuri brings me around to the really interesting thing that happened on Tuesday afternoon. Thinking that the fresh air would do him good, I coaxed him to come outside with me. It was overcast, but it was warm enough not to need jackets. We sat at the picnic table in the back yard and I patiently fed him oatmeal sweetened with maple syrup while we watched the comings and goings of several blue jays on the nearby bird feeder.
That’s when we met the neighbours from across the street.
Even if I don't know everyone in the neighbourhood personally, I thought I could at least recognize all the people who live on this block of London Street and the intersecting street, Foundry Lane. It was slightly disconcerting to realize I had no idea who the elder couple puttering away in their front garden were. I don’t know how they knew I was watching them, but at some point they started watching Yuri and me as well. Every so often, I caught them looking our way. Eventually, their inquisitiveness must’ve got the best of them because they dusted themselves off and meandered across the street.
I guessed they were probably in their late sixties or early seventies; old enough to be elders but not too old to have plenty of energy left in them. The man was thin and had a leathery, deeply lined face, like he’d spent a lot of time outdoors without sunscreen. The woman had delicate facial features that reminded me a lot of Yuri’s grandmother, who I’d met a handful of times at family gatherings I’d been compelled to go to. She carried herself with the same type of grace and economy of movement as Yuri’s mom and grandmother too. I could easily imagine this lady had been a stunning beauty when she was young.
More than anything else I could say, I’ll say this; they aren’t the least bit shy. Most people would start with hello. They started with a question.
“I hope you don’t think we’re being nosy,” the man said. “But we haven’t seen you around here before. Are you new to the neighbourhood?”
I had to smile at that. “No,” I told him. “I grew up here. Right here in this house actually, but we don’t live here now. We’re just visiting. I’m Grace Nelson’s son. Do you know her?”
“Of course,” said the woman. “Dr. Grace and Dr. Julian are lovely people. They take excellent care of our cats. If you’re her son, then you’re Victor. Correct?”
“Yeah,” I said. “You have us at a disadvantage, though.”
“My apologies. I’m Kimiko Miyazaki, and this is my husband, Robert MacAllister. You can call me Kim if you like. Everyone does.”
Her English was flawless, and I guessed that she’d either been born here or that she’d been here a very long time. Yuri and I exchanged a look at hearing her name, and I immediately thought of our former neighbour from Komatsu. Yuri seemed to brighten a little, and somehow I doubted he would be calling her by the very English-sounding nickname of Kim.
“Pleased to meet you, Miyazaki-san,” Yuri said, and I don’t think he even recognized the fact that he’d slipped fluidly from English to Japanese.
Kim’s face registered mild surprise. “Well… it’s been a long time since I’ve heard anyone but my children speak to me in my first language. And you are…?”
“I’m Yuri,” he said, blushing and suddenly looking shy and embarrassed. He slid closer to me on the bench and leaned against me. I put my arm around him and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "Okamoto Yuri."
“Yuri’s my husband,” I clarified.
Both elders were peering at us with a combination of curiosity and concern, and I couldn’t help wondering what they were thinking. Kim’s gaze seemed to drift to the half-empty bowl behind us on the table, and I wondered if she’d been able to see exactly what we’d been doing before they came over.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait long to find out what was going through Robert’s mind.
“Not to pry, but are you all right?” he asked. I’m sure he meant Yuri, but he was making eye contact with me.
“He’s not feeling well today,” I said.
“We’re sorry to hear that,” said Kim. “It’s good that you’re able to get outside, though. Fresh air and a change of scenery are important for the mental health, especially if you’ve been ill for a long time.”
“How do you know—“ I started.
Almost at the same time, Yuri said, "Excuse me?” He'd switched back to English, a fact that was evidently not lost on Kim.
It was her turn to look embarrassed. “I really don’t mean to overstep. I was a nurse for thirty-five years and I spent over half my career as a clinical specialist. I’ve seen a lot of people with long-term and chronic illnesses. But I realize it’s none of my business. It’s just that I notice things, and these days my mouth sometimes gets ahead of my brain.” She smiled sheepishly. “I’m going to blame old age.”
“Perhaps we ought to change the subject,” said Robert.
“Yes,” his wife replied. “That might be best. My apologies.”
“It’s fine,” I said. I glanced down at my husband. “Yuri?”
He nodded. “Yes, it’s okay. You’re right. I do have a chronic illness, but I’d rather not discuss it.”
“Certainly,” Kim said. “We can talk about something else. Where are you visiting from?”
“Matsumori Town,” he told her. "That's in Kyoto Prefecture, near the mountains."
"Yes, I know exactly where it is," she said. “As it happens, that’s where I’m from. Now, how's that for a coincidence?" I left when I was in my twenties, but I still have family that we visit every few years, and Robert and I are thinking of making a permanent move there as soon as we sell our house.”
“How long have you lived in that house?” I asked.
“We bought it about five years ago," Robert answered.
"If you moved here five years ago, that’s why we didn’t recognize each other,” I said. “I moved out around that time, and my cousin and I and another friend had one of those share houses over by the college. Then I had a place in that big apartment complex across town. You know Sage Estates? I was there until I moved to Japan."
“We know Sage Estates," Kim said. "Our son Cameron lives there.”
“The house was supposed to be our retirement home,” Robert explained. “We were going to live here with our daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren. But we’d only been in the place for a year and a half before our Hayley got offered an important job opportunity in Toronto that she couldn’t pass up. Life in a big city isn’t for us, so off they all went and left us here.”
“Us and the cats,” Kim amended.
“Yes, us and the cats and the ghost.”
I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. “The... what? The ghost?”
“A lovely Japanese lady. We think we may have accidentally brought her here from Matsumori in an antique vase,” he said. “She likes to arrange flowers, so we try to cut some from the garden for her and set them in her vase as often as we can.”
Despite myself, I found that I was starting to like these nosy, quirky old people. I said, “Are you going to leave her in the house for the new owners, or are you going to take her home?”
“That depends on what she wants, doesn’t it?” he said. “She seems to like it here, but she only speaks Japanese, so she might not be happy to stay with the new owner if they can’t communicate with her.”
“You talk to her?”
“Yes. She doesn’t always understand me, unfortunately. I think it's my accent that slows us down, but she talks up a storm with Kim.”
“Maybe Yuri and I should try to speak to her,” I suggested.
At that, Yuri gave me the look he always gives me when he thinks I’m talking nonsense. It was like, Please don’t encourage them. Personally, I didn’t see any harm. If they seriously thought there was a flower-arranging Japanese ghost lady in their house, who was I to argue?
“You’re welcome to come over any time,” Kim said. “We can’t guarantee Sachiko will be around, though. She doesn’t show herself every day. But we can at least promise we’ll chat with you, and we can offer you tea and a snack.”
“And you’re welcome to use our pool,” Robert offered. “It’s heated. It’s very therapeutic.”
“Thanks. That sounds great,” I said.
We chatted for a few more minutes before Kim and Robert decided they’d better get back to their landscaping project. We said goodbye and promised that we’d come over to see them in the next day or two.
For the rest of the day, I was preoccupied with thoughts of the neighbours across the street and their allegedly haunted house. They seemed like intelligent, mentally sound people, and there was no hint of joking or irony when they mentioned their ghost. Clearly, they believed she was real. As for me, I couldn’t decide if I believed in the ghost or not. Part of me really wanted to, but another part was content to accept that existence ends when life does.
That night, as Yuri and I were getting ready for bed, I asked him what he thought about it even though I knew what he’d likely say.
“Do you think she’s real?” I said. “Sachiko, I mean. The ghost across the street.”
“About as real as mermaids and vampires,” Yuri said.
“Mermaids are real," I said.
“I know what you think you saw on Kainani Island.”
“I know you don’t believe me about that,” I acknowledged. “But regardless of whether mermaids and vampires are real or not, ghosts still could be. They’re humans, not mythical creatures.”
“Once people pass away, that’s it,” he said. “They don’t linger in suburban houses and make flower arrangements.”
“Do you think Robert and Kim are hallucinating or something, then? Or do you think they’re just making it up?”
“What I think is that they might’ve lost somebody very important to them and that it’s comforting for them to imagine she’s still with them in some way.” Yuri gave me a soft, indulgent smile. “Maybe that’s what you want to believe too. That it’s possible somehow for people you loved to still be with you.”
I shook my head. “No, that’s not it.”
“If it helps you, it’s okay to believe it,” he said. "I don’t know what it’s like to lose someone close to me, but I think any way that helps a person cope is fine as long as it isn’t harming anyone.”
“I don’t think believing in ghosts is a good way to cope at all,” I said. “Not for me anyway. I wouldn’t want to think of Dad and Caroline as ghosts. That’d be horrible, hanging around forever and constantly reliving the memory of how they died.” The idea of ghost baby Caroline being terrified and confused for eternity as she tried to make sense of her senseless death made me want to cry. “Something like that would definitely be harmful.”
“When you put it that way, I suppose so,” Yuri conceded.
“I’ve got a lot of stuff in my head that I still haven’t resolved about Dad and Caroline,” I said. “You’re not wrong about me wanting to believe they’re still with me somehow too, but I feel like it’s more emotional than supernatural or whatever. It’s just… I don’t know. I find the whole ghost thing fascinating and I want to see for myself if it’s true or not.”
Yuri was quiet for a few seconds, but finally he said, “We can go over there and visit, so you can see.”
“Wouldn’t that be weird?”
“Why would it? They invited us after all, and they sounded sincere about it,” he said. “I’d like to see the house too, although for different reasons than you.”
“Really?” I said. “Why do you want to see it?”
“Didn’t they say they’re thinking of selling it?”
“Yeah, but…” I trailed off for a moment, unsure as to where the conversation might be going. “Why do you care if it’s going to be for sale?”
“I was thinking,” he said, but he didn’t elaborate.
“About a house in Maple Grove?”
“It’s just a ridiculous idea I suddenly had.”
“What would we do with a house here, even if we could afford it? Our lives are in Matsumori.”
“Are they?” he said. “I think I’ve seen enough since we’ve been here to know that most of your life isn’t in Matsumori at all. I might be wrong, but my guess is the only really important parts of your life in Matsumori are me and the mountain. Arashiyama has to stay where it is, but I don’t.”
I frowned. “Are you saying you want to move?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not sure what I’m saying at this point, but I think we should think about our options and talk it over when we’re both ready.”
“You think a possibly haunted house is an option?” I asked.
“It’s not haunted,” he said. “But if people believe it is, maybe that’ll lower the property value and make it affordable.”
I grinned. “Well, that’s an angle probably no one thought of.”
“Let’s have a look at it and satisfy our curiosity, all right? It’s not even for sale yet in any case, and even if it were, we’re not in a position to decide anything right now.”
“Okay,” I said.
“In the meantime, the least we can do is be friendly. I don’t think I made a very good first impression today. I’d like to redeem myself if I can.”
“I’m sure you can,” I told him. “Let’s see how you’re feeling tomorrow, and maybe we can go over there.”
So, that’s exactly what we did. Yuri was feeling well enough to venture out on Wednesday afternoon, so we took some of the strawberry cupcakes I’d baked in the morning and made our way across the street. Kim and Robert happily gave us a tour of the house, and then we all sat in the living room and enjoyed a snack and some good conversation.
There was no sign of Sachiko the ghost, but we did notice the smell of flowers in a couple of rooms where there weren’t any. Robert said the scent was plum blossoms, and he told us that meant Sachiko was there even if we couldn’t see her. He showed us her vase and explained how they’d bought it from an antiques dealer in Senbamachi district about four years ago. He said Sachiko had appeared not long after they got back to Maple Grove.
Yuri said he thought he knew the antique shop in question. Apparently, it’s notorious for having purported occult objects for sale on a semi-regular basis, and it's the subject of a sort of urban legend that says it’s a hot spot for paranormal activity. I’ll admit the notion intrigued me.
“Maybe we should go there when we get back,” I said.
“See if you can get Takahiro to go there with you,” Yuri said. “His reaction will be worth it.”
“Oh?”
“He never wanted to walk past there when we were younger. Seiji and I kept daring him to go in, but he never would.”
“Have you been inside the shop, Yuri?” Robert wanted to know.
“I have,” Yuri said. ‘It didn’t seem all that unusual to me, other than some of the bizarre items the owner was selling. I saw a necklace that I thought my mother would like, but my friend Seiji talked me out of buying it for her because he thought it was cursed.“
"We’re definitely going there,” I said. “Haunted vases and cursed jewelry? I need to check that out.”
Yuri sighed. He didn’t come right out and say I was trying his patience, but I got the sense that he wanted to. I gave up the subject of the supernatural after that, and our conversation moved along to other topics. We enjoyed the rest of our visit and left with an open invitation to swim in the pool whenever we liked.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit disappointed about not being able to confirm the existence of the ghost, but I guess I shouldn’t have expected to. We came back in the evening to use the pool, and we smelled the plum blossom scent again. Yuri said it was likely some late-blooming plant in the garden or maybe some sort of air freshener or cleaning product.
If it was a cleaning product, I wanted to know what it was so we could use it at our house because it smelled exactly like early spring in the Hanamigawa valley. It was sweet and soothing, and it made me feel calm and peaceful.
We didn’t do much swimming. The pool water was indeed heated, and that, combined with the mysterious plum blossom aromatherapy, relaxed us to the point where we weren’t much interested in exercise. Yuri took a nap on the pool float, and I just drifted around on my back, thinking about not much of anything.
We both had an excellent night’s rest after that.
In completely unrelated news, we’re heading to North Range Provincial Park tomorrow afternoon. We’ll be staying there tomorrow night and Saturday night, and then coming back to Maple Grove sometime on Sunday.
I was worried that Yuri wouldn’t be up to it, but he says he’s well enough to go. I can tell he isn’t completely fine, but he’s improved a lot since this past Sunday, so as long as he thinks he’s going to be okay, I’m not about to question it. The fact that he’s still interested at all is a surprise, I’m not questioning that either.
I took him shopping for camping stuff today. He wasn’t into the Canadian Tire aesthetic at first, but once he tried on a few plaid shirts and realized how cute he looked in them, I think his shopping spirit was revived.
He got a fleece-lined flannel jacket, a plaid flannel shirt, a quilted vest and hiking boots, and of course he had to have accessories. In this case, his accessories of choice were two hats and a scarf. I convinced him to get thermal socks as well, despite his protests that they were ugly. Nobody was going to see them inside his boots, I reasoned, and he probably wouldn’t want to sleep barefoot, especially considering that his feet are often cold at the best of times. He decided that the jeans and turtlenecks he already had with him would be sufficient, so I was spared having to answer the inevitable question as to whether or not he looked too skinny in any potential new pants.
Shopping for a sleeping bag was more challenging than shopping for clothes. I wanted to make sure he got one that was both lightweight and rated for below-freezing temperatures, just in case we decided to camp on Arashiyama at some future point. I also thought he should have one with a built-in pillow, like mine, since that’d eliminate the need to carry along an extra item. Yuri, however, was more concerned about the colour and whether or not it’d look good in our tent. He opted for black "Because it goes with everything."
We chose a proper hiking pack for him in a shade of orange that made him happy because it reminded him of sunset, and that made me happy because of how visible it would be on a wooded trail. I liked it for the fact that it had a body strap in addition to the shoulder straps, which would help balance the weight of it and make it easier and more comfortable for him to carry. He liked it because it had a ton of pockets to help him organize all his items.
Yeah... if it wasn’t already obvious, we have different priorities.
I let him pick out a few odds and ends, like a flashlight, a small pocket knife, and an insulated drinking bottle for tea. I had a hard time imagining Yuri doing anything with a pocket knife, but he seemed to think it was a vital piece of outdoor equipment, so I didn’t protest.
The last things we bought were small waterproof bags for each of us to keep our phones and wallets in. I’d learned the value of waterproof bags from my friend Mitchell, who I’d met on Kainani Island. We might not necessarily need the bags during our weekend on the North Range, but I decided I'd use it anyway because it was a better alternative than keeping my wallet and phone in plastic sandwich bags to protect them if it were to rain.
Yuri could hardly wait to show off all his new things to my mom when she got home from work. He put on a mini fashion show for her, and she played into it by telling him how rugged and handsome he looked and taking a bunch of pictures of him. He didn’t seem to notice or care that she was treating him as if he was a little kid getting ready for his first day of school.
I’m glad he seems to have some genuine enthusiasm for camping now because I spent a disproportionate amount of brainpower in worrying that he was forcing himself to go despite how scared he was, just because he thought he should. I’m not under any illusions that he’s suddenly lost all his anxiety and fear about spending a couple of days and nights in the forest, and I’m not deluding myself into believing it’ll be an easy weekend for either of us, but I’m more confident than I was before.
I think we’ll be able to have fun, and I’m looking forward to teaching him some of the wilderness skills I learned from Mom and Uncle Stephen and from our Maple Scout leader when I was a kid. Leo said he’s bringing his guitar, so maybe we’ll even get to teach Yuri some of the camp songs we learned when we were in Maple Scouts. Almost every scout camp song is ridiculous, which automatically makes them the best.
Oh, and we even have a new ghost story to share around the campfire now. I’m already picturing Ellie’s and Leo’s reactions when we tell them about Sachiko.
We’ll let you know how the camping trip goes!
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