#about what her kids and their friends have been through

[multipleoccupancy]

The Inspector nodded to Violet as she greeted him and then gave a short and quiet hum of agreement at her dismissive reply. Taking mental notes of her attitude and deciding he didn't much like it but she was at least holding her own for now and had not done anything outwardly troubling. He turned his attention back to Theo who was still considerably uncomfortable but had put his hand on Mauve's as it rested on his shoulder.

"I work for an organisation who specialise in things like this," he gestured to the monster on the floor, "I and many other agents strive tirelessly and endlessly to keep people safe and on more than several occasions already saved these United States and even the world from this danger and I think that you," he pointed to Theo specifically for now, "might be the sort of person who could help us."

Theo looked over at Mauve, amazement in his eyes as it had been exactly what they had talked about, an official branch helping to save the world from monsters! Their agent idea had already been done and here was a man offering it all to them... or just to him? He looked back to the agent.

"Now I have an offer to make you. You can come with us and we are interested in putting you through school, getting you into the FBI Academy for you to follow that path which you have expressed previously. We'll wipe everything clean, you'll be cleared as innocent and wrongly interned in this ward so that you can walk around free and innocent. Your parents won't have to pay a cent, you will be sponsored through collage and you will work hard to achieve the results necessary to become an FBI agent." The inspector waited for a moment while Theo clearly observed him, he was after all the man who had put him inside in the first place and he was offering him everything he wanted on a plate, just like that. "On the condition that you work for us. You do as we say, you protect our secret from everyone including family and friends, no one can know. You do exactly as you are told and follow every instruction we issue you to the letter."

The Inspector knew that was less appetising as an end point but he leaned forward and looked Theo directly in the eye, ignoring Violet completely for now, she wasn't who he was after. "Or," his voice had dropped to a more threatening tone, "you can stay in here and become nothing more than a drooling mess until the end of your life. Stuck with absolutely no way out. You will stay here, where no one will believe you, where you will one day get one shock therapy session too many." He eyed Theo who gulped loudly, terrified of that thought and squeezing Violet's hand on his shoulder. "This is a one time offer, lad. What's it going to be?"

Theo opened his mouth but it was dry inside, it was as if he had just lost his voice, the man had offered him everything he had ever wanted and now was threatening to force him through his worst nightmare. However, he couldn't leave Mauve. "My friend helped me, Mauve needs to come too." He insisted, "We both deserve to be out of this ward. Please, promise me that she will be freed with me." The Inspector's lip curled and he looked to Violet, one eye brow raised.

"She will have her own deal." He said lowly and then offered his hand out for Theo to shake. "Now or never kid, I am not playing around, that deal has a time limit of seconds. You shake my hand and get out of here today or I get up, walk out and leave you here to rot." Theo's heart raced in his chest, his eyes were wide and his breath was almost frozen in his lungs, stinging him and aching at every bruise, shock, or most recently stab and bite he'd ever had in that ward. He couldn't go through more of it and with Mauve getting her own deal to leave, Theo took the Inspector's hand and shook it.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet quickly fell asleep, but she woke up just as fast, startled by a nightmare. After that, she didn't dare fall back asleep, discreetly observing the orderly as he cleaned up the whole cell. It wasn't too hard to pretend to be asleep, lying down next to Theo. After a while, the cell was perfectly clean (save for the dead monster in the corner), but Violet wished the orderly would have given them clean pajamas too. She was still covered in blood, but it had dried up now, forming an uncomfortable layer over her skin.

With her eyes half-closed, she noticed the two men as they stood outside the room. Violet didn't know who they were, but she assumed they were the Delta Green agents sent to offer Theo his "deal". When the orderly went to wake Theo up, she didn't bother acting as if she was sleeping, simply sitting up on the bed.

Theo's warning confirmed her thoughts: this was a Delta Green agent. But not just any agent. The agent who had framed Theo and sent him to the ward. Her look hardened, and she put a protective hand on Theo's shoulder.

The man sat in front of them, introducing himself. "Hello, inspector," she replied coldly. Violet was unmoved by the agent's praise. She really didn't care if he was impressed! As far as she was concerned, he was a wicked man. But she knew she couldn't make a scene, and risk Theo's deal in the process. She had to grit her teeth and swallow all the things she really wanted to say.

"It ain't our first rodeo," she replied dismissively, hinting at Theo's first monster encounter, and her own "encounter", which was in her file.

[capquinn]

ok we've been losing our minds about seeing quinn with kids but imagine him losing his mind seeing you with kids and babies. they're just so naturally drawn to you, smiling and giggling at you. when it's time to leave the kids pout, the babies cry and refuse to let go of you. it breaks his heart a little, but then he thinks about how you have that effect on kids and his heart is just so full and warm. he can't stop smiling thinking about how great of a mom you're going to be one day

It’s something Quinn’s been noticing more and more — how babies and kids always seem to be drawn to you, like there’s some invisible pull. He sees it everywhere, little moments that only fuel the quiet ache he’s been carrying, a bad case of baby fever that just keeps getting stronger.

It was a late summer afternoon at his friend’s BBQ, the kind of day where everything felt a little softer around the edges, the air warm and filled with lazy laughter and the smell of grilling food. Quinn was mid-conversation with a few of his buddies when he glanced over and spotted you down on the driveway, a piece of colourful chalk in your hand, showing his friend’s daughter how to draw a flower.

You were laughing, your voice floating over the soft hum of conversation as you patiently guided her tiny hand.

“Like this, see?” you were saying, helping her press the chalk down firmly. “And a little harder here — see how it makes the colour brighter?”

The little girl, determined to get it right, nodded with intense concentration, her face scrunched up in that serious way kids get when they’re trying so hard. She pressed down on the chalk with all her might, the green and purple smudges already staining her fingers. And you, just as focused, knelt beside her, not minding that your knees were getting chalky too.

Quinn couldn’t look away. The sight of you like that, so at ease, laughing with a child who was barely up to your waist, tugged at something in him. He imagined a version of this scene in a few years’ time — maybe it was a little girl with your eyes, or his determined frown, a toddler who insisted on doing everything by herself. He could already see the two of you, that same effortless connection, sharing these small, beautiful moments, and his heart did this odd little flip that made his chest feel warm and tight at the same time.

The little girl tugged on your hand, proudly holding up her chalk drawing. “Look! I did it!”

Your smile lit up, and you nodded, leaning closer to inspect it. “You did! That’s amazing! I think you’re a pro at this, honestly.”

Quinn’s friend nudged him with an amused grin. “Man, she’s a natural. I think the kids like her more than us.”

Quinn only nodded, distracted, not fully hearing what was said because his mind was spinning. It wasn’t just that you were good with kids — it was the way you seemed to understand them, to genuinely enjoy being there with them, in their world. And suddenly, this idea started to blossom, the thought of a life where this wasn’t just an afternoon at a BBQ but something that happened every day. He pictured you like this, kneeling in your own driveway with a little one by your side, his heart pounding with a kind of certainty he’d never felt before.

Lost in thought, he didn’t realise he was smiling until you caught his eye and gave him a playful little wave. Quinn’s chest tightened, a shy grin pulling at his lips as he waved back. He barely heard his friend teasing him about being “smitten” because in that moment, all he could think about was how right this felt, how natural, and how he wanted that future with you more than anything.

It happened again a few weeks later at the grocery store, a place Quinn usually breezed through, his list memorised, rarely giving more than a glance to the colourful chaos of the cereal aisle. But that day, he was momentarily caught up, staring at the endless choices, debating between two boxes. That’s when he heard it — a tiny giggle that somehow cut through the chatter of shoppers, the hum of the store. Glancing over, he saw you a few feet away, your attention fully focused on a baby sitting in a shopping cart beside you.

The baby, not much older than a year, was staring up at you with wide, amazed eyes, completely entranced as you wiggled your fingers and made a soft, silly noise, your face lit with an easy smile. You repeated the sound, and the baby’s mouth dropped open, then let out another round of giggles, that beautiful, innocent laughter that would soften anyone’s heart.

Quinn couldn’t help but pause, frozen mid-decision, just watching. The baby’s mother had been focused on reading the back of an oatmeal box, scanning ingredients with the usual distracted look of a tired parent. But after a moment, she glanced up, noticing the small, quiet exchange unfolding beside her cart. Her gaze softened as she took in the sight of her baby reaching toward you, chubby fingers stretching, drawn to the warmth in your playful smile,

And then Quinn’s heart did that strange, achy thing it had been doing lately, where he felt both immensely full and oddly vulnerable, like he’d stumbled onto a vision of the future without realising it.

He imagined you like this, but with your own baby — a little one with his dark hair and your bright smile, or maybe a mix of everything he loved most about you. The two of you would share that same joyful bubble, so completely at ease with each other, lost in some private little world only you two would understand.

Quinn placed both cereal boxes into the basket, feeling a strange warmth build in his chest, one that he couldn’t seem to shake. His fingers tightened around the handle of the basket, the weight of the thought filling him with a kind of quiet longing. It was such a simple scene, one he’d seen a dozen times with strangers, but with you…it was different. He was already imagining a life that was filled with moments like this, and the ache that came with it was exhilarating, a reminder of how badly he wanted this — wanted you, wanted this life with you and all that came with it.

“Hey, are you ready?” you asked, glancing over and catching his gaze, breaking him out of his reverie.

He blinked, realised the mother and baby had moved on, then nodded, feeling a soft blush creep up his neck as he tried to play it cool.

“Yeah, just… got distracted,” he muttered, but he couldn’t hide the small, knowing smile that stayed with him all the way to the checkout, the warmth of the thought still lingering as he followed you down the aisle.

The feeling roots itself deeply, one he can’t quite ignore as he watches you with his cousin’s 8-month-old, who’s been wide-eyed and mesmerised by you since the moment you walked in. The baby, fussy with everyone else, settles effortlessly in your arms, chubby fingers curling tightly around your shirt, her small head resting trustingly against your shoulder.

Quinn’s cousin chuckles, watching you both. “You’ve got some kind of superpower,” she says, amused.

You smile down at the baby, shifting your arms to hold her closer as you sway gently, instinctively.

“She just needed someone to chat with,” you murmur, your voice soft and soothing.

You don’t see Quinn across the room, his gaze fixed on you, like he’s trying to memorise this scene, the tenderness in the way you hold the baby, your gentle laugh, the look in your eyes. His chest tightens, that strange warmth filling him again that’s both beautiful and a little overwhelming.

From beside him, his mom nudges his arm lightly. “You’ve got a look there, Quinn,” Ellen says quietly, watching him watch you.

Quinn gives a faint smile, eyes still locked on you, almost in disbelief.

“She’s… good with kids,” he says softly, as if the realisation itself has him feeling a little unsteady. “Just — look at her.”

Ellen’s face softens, a knowing smile lighting her eyes. “Some people just have that kind of warmth. Kids feel it. She’s going to be such a wonderful mom someday.”

Quinn glances at her, but his gaze quickly finds its way back to you, his heart doing an uneven thud as he watches you look down at the baby, cooing softly as her eyes close. You look up then, meeting his eyes, and you send him the sweetes smile, one that makes him feel like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

His mom places a hand on his back. “You’d make a wonderful dad, too, Quinn,” she whispers.

Quinn swallows hard, feeling a sudden swell of emotion he wasn’t prepared for. His mom’s words settle over him, and he feels it, the truth of them, sinking in deep. He’s always thought about it in passing, but the whole idea feels closer, more real, like something he could almost reach out and touch.

“You really think so?” he murmurs, voice barely audible, eyes flickering to his mom.

Ellen nods, her hand a steady presence on his back. “Absolutely,” she whispers, surprised that he even has to ask, her smile softening. “Have you two talked about kids lately?”

Quinn’s face flushes slightly as he keeps his gaze on you.

“A little,” he admits quietly, a small, almost shy smile creeping onto his face. “I mean, I think about it all the time.”

Ellen chuckles, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “Well, whenever you’re both ready, you’ll be wonderful parents.” She pauses, trying to keep her smile from widening. “I can see it already. A Baby Hughes with those gorgeous dark waves,” she laughs, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

Quinn shakes his head, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he gently swats her hand away. “Mum,” he murmurs, trying to hide how much he’s secretly loving the idea.

Ellen laughs, her hand falling to his shoulder in a gentle squeeze. “No pressure, of course,” she says, though there’s a glimmer of excitement in her eyes that she can’t quite hide. “But when you do, I know you two will make a great team.” She looks back over at you, voice dropping. “You both have so much love to give.”

As he watches you across the room, swaying gently with his cousin’s baby asleep in your arms, he can’t shake the feeling that someday, hopefully soon, this picture will be a little different — a little closer to home.

Later that night, in the cosy guest room at his parents’ house, you lie curled up against Quinn’s side, watching the soft flicker of the TV in the dim light. His arm is wrapped around you, fingers tracing gentle patterns on your shoulder as you both unwind from the family gathering.

In his other hand, he’s casually scrolling through his phone, when he pauses, then turns the screen your way. It’s a picture his cousin posted of her daughter in your arms at the party. In the photo, you’re smiling softly, looking down at the baby as she rests against you, and the sight of it, even through a screen, makes his chest warm.

“That’s a good picture,” he murmurs, his voice quiet, thoughtful.

You smile, curling up closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder. Something about that moment earlier had felt so natural, so easy. And as you look at the picture, that feeling stirs again, warming you in a way that feels both exciting and a little nerve-wracking.

After a pause, you swallow softly, gathering your thoughts, and then, before you can second-guess yourself, you say, “hace you thought about having… you know, a baby? Starting a family?”

Quinn tenses for a split second, and you can feel his heart pick up, thumping faster under your cheek. He pulls back a little to look at you, eyes wide with surprise.

“Did my mom talk to you?” he asks, a hint of suspicion, as if he’s caught onto something.

You let out a laugh, the tension breaking instantly, and sit up, leaning back against the headboard as you turn your body toward him, raising an eyebrow. “No, why would she?”

Quinn rubs the back of his neck, chuckling softly. “She, uh… she sort of mentioned it earlier. Said she thought we’d make a great team as parents.”

He glances down, a hint of a blush dusting his cheeks, and there’s a shy look in his eyes when he looks back up at you. The gentle vulnerability in his expression makes your heart squeeze, and you can’t help but smile.

“So,” you say, voice small, “what do you think?”

He shifts a little closer, his hand sliding to the back of your knee, fingers tracing gentle patterns. “I’ve actually thought about it a lot lately,” he says, his voice steady, direct, like he’s sharing a part of himself he’s been holding onto for a while. He glances at you, his hand giving your thigh a soft squeeze.

There’s a quiet intensity in his eyes, an openness that makes your heart flutter. “I just… I can see it, you know?” he continues, a faint smile tugging at his lips as his eyes linger on yours. “Us, with a little one. And…” He chuckles, pausing, looking a bit shy, “I wouldn’t mind if that happened sooner rather than later.”

You feel a warmth rise in your cheeks, the blush creeping up as you take in his words, your heart skipping a beat. He’s watching you with such earnestness, a quiet hope in his gaze that matches the longing you’ve kept close to your own heart.

You say it softly, almost like a secret, “I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

The words settle into the quiet between you, filling the space with a warmth that’s been building, unspoken, for weeks. Neither of you rushes to say more, just letting the admission linger, letting it shape into something real and close.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

i wrote homeward a little while ago that sorta touches on this too if u wanna check that out too hehe

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[eternal-evergreens]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Into the looking glass - III"｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Post format: Multipart series

Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Attempted Non/Con, Drugging, Attempted Kidnapping, Stalking

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

No, no. Not happening. Never.

You need money. But you won’t get it through unscrupulous means. You still have your morals, and you’ll abide by them. That’s why you saved Kylar. That’s why you’d save him again, should it happen in the future.

You push the thought out of your mind and exit the temple. As you pass by Danube Street, a thought hits you. 

The spa. Why haven’t you been working at the spa? 

It’s not really an early-game option due to the stat checks required, but those shouldn’t be a problem for you. With your hand skill at C by default and your beauty over the max, working as a masseur is as simple as walking up and asking for work. 

You head over and ask for work, and the lady at the front desk takes one look at your hands and gasps. Her bored demeanor quickly melts away into an excited one as she quickly shows you the ropes. You get the basics down pretty quickly and soon take your first client, a trim woman who looks to be in her early 30s.

“Hello, I’ve not done this before. Do I just lie down?” That makes two of us, you think to yourself. 

“That’s right! Just lie down, and I’ll take care of the rest,” you say, smiling. The trim woman seems reassured and quickly lies down on the table. You get to work on her shoulders and neck first, cautiously looking for knots and tension as you knead her muscles. The woman relaxes under your touch and begins to make small talk. She tells you about her family, how her kids are both bright young boys, and her husband brings her flowers every month. She seems really happy. -Trauma -Stress

She leaves you a tip. You make £75. 

Your next client is less friendly, but you manage to massage her without incident. She leaves you a tip. You make £80 and decide to take a break, feeling a little worn out from standing on your feet for nearly two hours straight. After fifteen minutes, you get up and head back into the spa, where you take on another two clients. They both leave tips, and you make £120. The spa closes after that, and you head outside. 

Someone throws a water balloon at you from a nearby car, soaking your shirt and leaving it near-invisible. You hear cheers as they speed away, leaving you soaked out in the open. +Stress

You look around, but luckily, no one is around to see your predicament. You cover yourself with your arms as best as you can and head home. You take the alleys to avoid passersby seeing you, walking quickly in hopes of getting home sooner. You don’t watch where you’re going and end up walking right into someone. 

“Watch where you’re going, you—!” You look up, about to apologize, when you see icy blue eyes staring back at you. It’s Whitney, his face, only inches from yours, changes from anger to a smug smile.”Well, what do we have here? A slut all out on her own?” Whitney’s friends giggle. 

“Why is she walking around so exposed?” One delinquent asks. “Is she a pervert?” They giggle, crowding around you.

“I wanna get a picture!” Soon, all the delinquents are pulling out their phones. Suddenly torn between the desire to cover your face and your chest, you end up hiding behind the thing closest to you, which ends up being Whitney. He seems taken aback but soon wraps an arm around you protectively. +Love

“Fuck off,” he says, arm still around your waist. “Get your own slut.” The others seem disappointed but comply regardless. When everyone’s phone has been put away, Whitney releases you and shrugs off his jacket. 

“Can’t fuck a sick person,” he says, throwing his jacket over you. “Make sure to give it back. Now fuck off.” He shoves you out of the alleyway, leaving you stunned. Did that really just happen? 

You check your phone.

Whitney The Bully  Whitney wants to own you.       Fascination: 50% Love: 5% Devotion: 0% Dominance: 40%       Jealousy: 0% Lust: 100% 

You walk home with his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. It smells like smoke.

—————————

It is Thursday, the 8th of September, 2022. -It has been 4 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £729 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are alert Stress: You are calm Trauma: You are uneasy Control: You are insecure Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

After waking up and finishing your morning routine, you go to Robin’s room and play video games with him for an hour. Some of the games remind you of those you used to play back home. +Love -Trauma +Stress 

“It’s almost time for school,” he says. “Do you want to come with me?” You smile and nod. Robin stands up from the bed and puts his controller away. He holds the door open for you as you leave, and you notice a faint blush on his cheeks as you pass. You swear you saw him glance down. +Lust

You’re suddenly reminded that you’re in a yandere game and that Robin is a target character. ++Stress

You grimace as you round a corner and resist the urge to cover your butt as Robin walks behind you. Your skirt is so short he can probably see your underwear as you walk. +++Stress

You see Bailey holding a mousy girl by the arms, a bundle of rope in his other hand. 

“You owe me £200 this week,” he says. The girl is holding back tears but still manages to keep a strong look about her. Robin looks away. The other orphans do the same. They all look…resigned. You step forward. 

“I’ll pay,” you say. “Let her go.” Bailey raises an eyebrow but releases the girl. You hand over the £200 without fuss. It’s only after parting with the money that you remember you could have just pepper-sprayed him and gained some catharsis. You don’t really need to be stingy with it, after all. Bailey counts the money and leaves, leaving the mousy girl to dust herself off.

“Thank you,” the mousy girl says. “I was really scared.” 

“Will you be okay?” You ask her. She nods. She seems genuinely okay. 

“Yes, thanks to you. I promise I’ll pay you back for this,” she says, running off. 

“You don’t have to!” You call out after her, but she’s already gone. 

You did a good thing today. -Trauma -Stress

“That was really impressive,” Robin says. “It’s not often people stand up to Bailey.” You shrug, and Robin cracks a smile. +Love

You and Robin chat on the way to school, mostly about the games you played earlier. There’s a certain glint in his eyes when he looks at you that wasn’t there before. You have to suppress a shiver every time you accidentally meet his gaze. +Stress

“I just don’t understand why they’d make a tutorial so difficult,” Robin says, shaking his head. “Maybe-” He’s cut off by something, eyes widening. You follow his gaze and see two hooded figures approaching rapidly from the alleyway you just passed. You reach for your pepper spray as the figures get closer, unhooking it from its keychain and holding it at the ready. 

“It’s her,” one says. You waste no time and spray them both, then grab Robin’s arm and sprint to safety with him. ++Crime (Assault) ++Crime (Assault) +Stress +Fatigue

You don’t stop running until you reach the school gates and are safely behind them. You and Robin pant heavily as you struggle to come down from the adrenaline. 

“Where did you get that?!” Robin whisper-yells. 

“A kid in my English class makes them,” you say at a normal volume. Robin’s look of concern only grows, and he spends a few minutes lecturing you on the dangers and illegalities of pepper spray. You mostly tune him out. 

The bell rings, finally putting an end to Robin’s monologue, and you head to class. You focus on the lesson, and Sirris calls you up to the front of the class. A student uses a ruler to flash your panties to everyone. To make matters worse, Sirris wanted you to undress for the demonstration. You comply, feeling humiliated as the class leers at your body. +++Stress

The bell rings, and you rush out of the classroom. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you walk. Your ears are ringing, your heartbeat is too loud, the world is spinning, and—

It’s all too much for you. You pass out. 

—————————

It is Thursday, the 8th of September, 2022. -It has been 4 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £529 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are distressed Trauma: You are uneasy Control: You are insecure Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

You wake up with something soft yet firm under your head and Sydney right above you. 

“You’re awake!” He says. “I was worried. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I brought you back to the library.” “Not the nurse?” You say, getting up. You realize that you’ve been lying on Sydney’s lap. Sydney looks sheepish. 

“I didn’t think of that,” he says, not meeting your gaze. He looks genuine, but you get the feeling he’s not being honest. +Awareness 

Sydney insists you stay with him for another ten minutes so he can monitor your condition. When you ask about going to the nurse again he makes an excuse of not knowing if you’re good to walk. You decide not to push it any further and spend the next ten minutes chatting with Sydney. When the ten minutes are up, he looks hesitant to let you go but relents regardless. +Love +Lust -Sydney’s purity

By the time you leave, it’s already lunch. You missed two classes. ++Deliquency

Feeling stressed from everything, you decide to sit alone in hopes of relaxing. You should have known better, however, as a group of students soon come by to make your day harder. The second they start jeering at you, you unhook your pepper spray and blast them all in the face. ++Crime (Assault) ++Delinquency +Status

The students are screaming and hurling insults, but the ringing in your ears makes it impossible to hear them. You finish your lunch in silence. 

You spend the rest of school zoning out, hoping your stress will subside. It works, kind of. 

You have detention, but you don’t feel like going. Considering all the shit you pulled today, Leighton is probably going to take off your clothes and smack you or something. You don’t have good enough grades to know where the tunnel from school is, so you walk out the front. Leighton tries to stop you, but you pepper spray him. ++Crime (Assault) ++Delinquency +Status 

A group of students say they’re going to the lake. You could use a change of scenery. You join them. +Status

Hanging out at the lake is fun enough. No one tries to grope you after what happened at lunch, so you end up having a somewhat enjoyable time. 

Then they start bullying another student, who thankfully isn’t here to listen to them shit-talking them, and what little fun you were having quickly melts away. You stand up and walk away, deciding to go for a swim instead. You think about retrieving the lichen for your science project but push the thought out of your mind. 

You swim for about an hour, and when you exit the water, the sun is already beginning to set. Your fellow classmates are still hanging out, but you don’t really feel like joining them, so you put on your clothes and go for a walk, planning to head back after you’re done.

You hear a bullet firing from afar. Something is hunting you.

Fuck. You whip around, trying to locate the source of the bullet. You heard it shoot from behind you, but you don’t see anyone. Going back the way you came might mean running straight into their arms. You glance around one last time, but a second gunshot has you running on your feet in no time.

You dash through the woods, not bothering to look behind you as the gun fires off in the near distance. You don’t think they’re shooting at you, and running zig-zag like you were taught as a kid just means slowing down. So, you run straight ahead with no clear plan in mind. You unhook your pepper spray again (you should probably thank Kylar), just in case, but you don’t know how much good it will do in a gunfight. Still, something is better than nothing, so you hold onto it, keeping it close to your chest as you run, run, run.

Your foot hits something strange and loses balance. You don’t even have time to process it until you’re lifted upside-down by your heel, face to inverted face with a plant person. 

“I caught one!” The plant girl exclaims. “This one’s wearing lacey panties!” You spray her, and she falls, her vines releasing you instantly. It’s only when you see sap pouring out from a hole on the side of her head that you hear the gunshot and realize it wasn’t you that took her down.

“Got you,” Eden says, a hand on your shoulder. You try to turn around, but the second you move, you’re on the ground, nose pressed into the soil, and arms pinned behind you in a painful grip. You feel your pepper spray being torn from your hand and thrown next to a bush. 

Shit. Shit!

He’s got you in a submission hold. There’s nothing you can do but go along with it and wait for an opportunity. It takes everything in you not to thrash and scream against his hold, but you know that would only make things worse. Eden runs his hand down your back, stopping when he gets to the hem of your skirt. He flips it up, taking a moment to admire it before giving it a light slap. You jump when he hits you, though it’s more about the surprise than the pain.

“You’re hurting me!” You cry, trying your best to sound helpless. “Please let go!” You weakly struggle against his grip for good measure. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, voice gruff. “Can’t do that. You’ll run away.” 

“I’ll be good! I’ll be good! Please, please, let me go!” You wiggle around, pretending this is as much strength as you can muster up. Eden leans down and studies your expression for a moment. You can feel the outline of his cock on your back as he leans down to look at you. The scrutiny in such a position is near-unbearable, but he releases you without a word. 

You force yourself to be still for a moment, not to do anything that would alert him. Then, slowly, you turn around and, mustering up every bit of courage you have, lean up and kiss him. He seems taken aback but soon reciprocates the gesture. You press into him, stroking and massaging his skin as you cautiously lean him back into a more desirable position. 

Though it costs you your dignity, you’re eventually able to get on top of him, grinding against him through his pants as you lower him to the ground. When you’ve got him completely below you, and you’re straddling his hips, you break the kiss and pull yourself up. 

“I think it's time we get rid of these,” you say, grabbing your panties and lifting your hips, then swaying them suggestively. You shift your weight to one knee and lift your other leg up, then, in a sudden, adrenaline-charged burst of speed, you throw yourself off of him and stagger to your feet. You kick him in the crotch and run towards the bush where your pepper spray landed. 

Eden catches your foot, and you nosedive towards the ground. You fall, but pepper spray is just within reach. You grab it and go limp. Eden drags your body closer to his, and you use it as an opportunity to spray him. He grabs his eyes and recoils, and you quickly gather yourself and run back the way you came. 

Your clothes snag on bushes and branches as you run, but you pay it no mind as you force yourself to run. You can’t hear anything but the wind in your ears, so you have no idea if Eden is chasing you or not. 

Silly you, it shouldn’t have been Eden you were worrying about. 

You feel yourself hit the ground before you even register being knocked down. There’s a growling above you and two hands on either side of your body. You twist around, barely even registering the wolf ears and sharp teeth of the man on top of you. You spray him, and he staggers back. You rush to your feet and keep running until you’re safely out of the forest. Your clothes are practically in scraps by the time you’re out, and at this point, you think it’ll be cheaper to just buy new clothes instead of fixing them. 

Then, it hits you. The pain and exhaustion. 

You drop to your knees, suddenly aware of every scratch, scrape, and bruise you acquired while running through the forest, suddenly aware of the strain on your muscles from the fatigue. You stay sitting for a few minutes, waiting for your muscles to stop hurting or for you to stop caring. When you notice the sun is starting to set, you pull yourself up and drag yourself back home, where you run a bath and then go straight to bed. 

—————————

It is Friday, the 9th of September, 2022. -It has been 5 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £529 Pain: You are upset Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are distressed Trauma: You are nervous Control: You are anxious Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

You get up and check your socials on your phone.

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible Primary relationships:  Robin The Orphan Robin wants to be your best friend.              Fascination: 100% Love: 5% Devotion: 30% Lust: 40%         Confidence: 0% Trauma: 0% Jealousy: 5% Whitney The Bully  Whitney wants to own you.       Fascination: 50% Love: 10% Devotion: 0% Dominance: 40% Jealousy: 0% Lust: 100%  Kylar The Loner Kylar is obsessed with you.       Fascination: 100% Love: 9% Devotion: 55% Jealousy: 55%        Lust: 90% Sydney The Faithful ? Sydney is conflicted.       Fascination: 70% Love: 8% Devotion: 25% Purity: 20%        Jealousy: 0% Lust: 70%  Avery The Businessman Avery thinks you’re cute.     Fascination: 55% Love: 1% Devotion: 0% Jealousy: 0%     Dominance: 0% Lust: 30% Rage: 0% Eden The Hunter Eden wants you back.     Fascination: 80% Love: 0% Devotion: 0% Jealousy: 0%     Dominance: 0% Lust: 100% Black Wolf The Alpha Black Wolf wants to see you again. Reputation:  The police consider you a person of interest, and have enough evidence for an arrest. The atmosphere in the orphanage is calm. You are considered a normal student by teachers. Your fellow students desire you. Lust: 100% Status: 60% Sex: Unknown. Prostitution: Unknown. Rape: Obscure. Beastiality: Unknown. Exhibitionism: Obscure. Pregnancy: Unknown. Combat: Low-key. Kindness: Obscure. Business: Unknown. Socialite: Unknown. Overall: Notorious. The townsfolk call you Darling. Those in the criminal underworld call you Darling.

Your eyes hover over your police reputation. You sigh. You’ll have to visit Landry after school. You throw your covers off of you and climb out of bed, groggily going to your wardrobe. 

Right. Your clothes got torn. You pick up an undamaged skirt and shirt, tossing the tattered garments into the trash. You put on your clothes and pick up your bag, not bothering to stop by Robin’s room this morning. You take a bus to the shopping center, where you do what you should have done on day one: buy clothes that actually cover you. You browse for a few minutes, looking for something as pervert-proof as possible. You settle on a school blouse, shorts, a sports bra, suspenders, and a pair of work boots. 

The shorts provide you protection against people lifting your skirt, the suspenders (which you’ll have to sew on) keep you from being pantsed, the sports bra can’t be unclipped and provides support in case you need to run, and the work boots will help you keep your footing when you need to go to the moor or the woods. 

You buy what you’re wearing as well as a few backups of the shorts and shirt, totaling £215. You pay and leave, arriving at school just in time for your science class. Today’s Friday, so you have a chance to improve your grades if you do well on the tests. 

The lesson pace is a little different from usual. It’s just a review of everything you’ve learned this week. Nothing new is being covered, so you don’t bother to take notes. Not that you’ve had any time to study your notes since coming here.

The test is easy enough, despite your terrible study habits, and you manage to improve your grade to a D. -Stress

The rest of the day continues similarly, and soon you have D’s all across the board. --Stress

You go to the pub after school, looking around for a thin man or woman with black hair and a grey sweater. You feel a hand on your shoulder and turn your head. It’s a tall man you’ve never seen before. He’s covered in tattoos.

“You’ve been busy,” he says, booze on his breath. “Don’t think I don’t recognize you. You’re the talk of the town. Bit surprising not seeing you being fucked raw, though.” His grip on your shoulder tightens. “I reckon it’s time I got my slice of the pie. You like it rough, right? That’s what I’ve heard. Come ‘ere, sweetheart.” 

“Am I interrupting?” You hear a man’s voice, and the tall man’s hand on your shoulder loses it’s grip. You look over to see the face of your savior and realize it’s the very person you were looking for. Your face shifts to one of relief. -Stress

“Yeah,” he says. “Piss off.”

“I recognize you.” 

“You should, I come here more often than I-” 

“March 3rd, 2009. Nightingale Street.” The tall man pales. “So you know what I’m talking about. I wasn’t there myself, but I’ve heard the stories. You were the talk of the town.” 

The tall man stutters. “Y-you’re not with the fuzz. You won’t turn me in.”

“You don’t know that. And either way, we both know you’re not hiding from the police. So how about you let her go, and I won’t tip off the Elk about your latest haunt.” The tall man looks at you, then Landry, then you again. Landry smiles. He throws his hands off of you.

“Fine. Shit, fine. You her lover? You picked a damn slutty one.” Landry waits until the man is out of earshot before turning to you. 

“Come with me,” he says. “I want to talk to you in private.”

“Reputation isn’t always a good thing,” Landry says as you sit down. “Word’s spread about you. You’re notorious. That’s why that drunkard went for you. You remember what he said, right?” 

“I haven’t even done anything,” you say. 

“No, but you’re pretty while doing it,” Landry retorts. “Not hitting on you,” he says. 

“Thanks?” 

“It’s not a good thing. You attract attention wherever you go. Where a normal person might have to fuck a hundred people to start getting known as a slut around town, you’d only have to fuck one.” 

“Oh,” you say, slinking in your seat. “So, what can I do?” 

“I think I can help you,” he pauses. “Well, not me. But I think I know someone. This orphan at the home on Domus Street. A computer whiz. Mickey, or McKay, something like that. Best hope is to find this orphan. If you can get them to come work with me, they’ll be able to hook you up. There’ll be some money in it for you, too. Just don’t step on Bailey’s toes.” You nod. 

“Thank you,” you say. Landry smiles.

“There’s another thing, too,” he says. “I’ll be frank. I know you need money. Don’t ask me how I know, word gets around. I think I can help you. If you come across any jewelry or other items you don’t know what to do with, I can take them off your hands. I’ll pay well.” He looks over your shoulder. “As well as can be expected, anyway.” 

“Can you help me get the police off my trail?”

“I can help you,” he says, reclining. “But I need you to do something for me. And no, it’s not about money. I was expecting a package, but it never arrived. Good thing I know where to find it, it had a GPS tracker. It got lost somewhere deep in the moor. Get it for me, and I’ll prevent any of your past misdemeanors being pinned on you. It’s a small black box.” You nod and stand. 

“Oh, and do be careful,” Landry says. “I don’t believe the tales of monsters, but there’s a sensible reason behind some superstitions.” 

You’re already wearing work boots, but you want to wear something that you can afford to tear, too. Preferably something resistant that can protect you. But you don’t have the money for that, so you head back to the orphanage and wear the only other outfit you have, a sundress. You put your pepper spray keychain on your bookbag and take it with you, hoping you won’t run out during this trip. 

After double checking everything is in order, you leave the orphanage and begin to make the long trek to the moor. 

Several people attempt to pick you up along the way. By which you mean literally every person who passes by you has slowed down to talk and ask where you’re headed. Not willing to risk anything, you turn them all down, running when they get too persistent. By the time you finally make it to the farmlands, you’re exhausted. So you sit down near the entrance to rest, knowing you’ll need your energy for the moor. 

“You alright there?” Someone asks. You look up to see a suntanned boy under a straw hat, looking concerned. He looks around your age, with red hair and a boyish appearance. He must be Alex, you realize.

“It was just a really long walk to get here,” you admit sheepishly. 

“You walked all the way from town?” You nod. “Well, Jesus! No wonder you’re so tired. Come in and get some water, my place isn’t far.” 

“Do you own the farm?” 

“Yeah, I do! It’s a work in progress, but it’s home.” You smile. 

Alex is right, and it doesn’t take long to reach the cottage, where he offers you a glass of water. You thank him and gulp it down. +++Drugged

…Huh?

You stare at your phone. The screen seems to shift.

Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are calm Trauma: You are nervous Control: You are anxious Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged A lewd warmth fills you Your perception is altered

You look back up to Alex, who’s staring at you with a grin. You stand up but nearly fall. Alex stands with you, his hands on your shoulders. 

“Easy, there,” he says as if you’re a horse that needs to calm down. You shove him off of you and  run, reaching for your pepper spray, but in your altered state, you can’t figure out how to unhook it. 

>Try again (Skullduggery: Impossible) >Rip it off (Athletics: Challenging) >Spray without unhooking (Dance: Very Difficult) 

You rip it off, but the fabric holds firm. Alex is close behind you.

>Try again (Athletics: Challenging) >Spray without unhooking (Dance: Very Difficult) 

You try again and the fabric doesn’t yield. Alex is right behind you.

>Try again (Athletics: Challenging) >Spray without unhooking (Dance: Very Difficult) 

This is taking too long. You spray without unhooking, managing to get Alex, but in your flailing, also manage to spray yourself. +++Pain ++Willpower

You run, you don’t even know where you’re going you just run.

You can’t open your eyes, but you know they wouldn’t be of much help in this state, anyway. You run until you hit what feels like tall grass, then slow. You’re in the moor now. 

You try to quiet your breathing as you listen for anything that may be chasing you or lying in wait. You hear nothing. You go a little further in, just enough to be hidden among the grass and wait. 

Eventually, the pain subsides, and you open your bleary eyes. You still feel unsteady, though, so you wait longer. It takes another forty minutes for you to regain full balance and control of your body. When you do, you trudge deeper into the moor, relying on the map on your phone to guide you to the box. After what feels like two hours of searching, you finally find the box across from some water. 

You grimace as you step in, your shoes and socks instantly soaking with dirty water. The water is about knee-high, so not enough to touch your sundress but just enough to make movement heavily uncomfortable. You hobble over the box, just about to reach it, when you feel something suck you in. 

You look behind you and recognize the thing as a lurker. You waste no time and spray it, freeing yourself and grabbing the box before leaving. 

Of course, nothing is ever that simple, and just as you leave the water, you see a terrible shadow overhead. You look up and notice a harpy in the sky. You are being hunted.

You start to run. Your pursuer approaches rapidly. ++Stress

You run faster, pushing yourself to your limits as you sprint across the moor. But luck is never on your side, and your foot sinks into something as you land. You look down, and it’s a fucking foxhole. Not big enough for you to run through or hide in. You pull yourself out, but it’s too late. 

“Found wife,” he says. You spray him and keep running. That should keep him out of commission for a while. 

Eventually, you feel safe enough to walk the rest of the way out of the moor. You sneak around the farmlands and begin to walk the rest of the way home. You’re too tired to make it very far, however, and soon pass out on the road. You feel yourself being lifted onto a stretcher before passing out again.

You’ve unlocked a fragment.

<Prev Next>

[confiaenanaa]

Can I request an angsty one where the reader and Marshall/Em/Slim (whichever you prefer) they have an argument and at one point he tells her he doesn't need her, he can have whoever he wants and they won't complain about anything like she does. And obviously she feels hurt bc it's always been an insecurity of hers that he could have anyone. And he just confirmed her fear. Hopefully with a happy ending tho🙏🏻❤️ please and thank you! Sorry it's so long lol.

needed - eminem

fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Marshall says he doesn't need her, but what does he do when he doesn't have her?

warnings: cursing, drinking

A/N: loved this request! very fun to write. if you guys want anything written, my asks are open. hope you enjoy!

-Fuck you! 

-Oh, piss off!

Shouts could be heard from the Mathers residence that night. Y/N and Marshall were arguing over something stupid, again. They seemed to be having these arguments more and more often these days. This time, however, they were arguing over Marshall’s lack of communication. He’d have a bad day, be rude to Y/N, and when she’d ask what was wrong he’d blow up at her without telling her what bothered him. Today it seemed like he’d had an extra bad day. 

…

He got home from the studio later than usual. Y/N was reasonably worried, and when she called, he wouldn’t answer. So, once he got home, she asked him a ton of questions; questions like “where were you?” “what happened?” “are you alright?”. This angered him to no end since he hates explaining himself to people.

He refused to answer questions. Y/N knew he’d probably just had a rough day so she decided to make him his favorite home-cooked meal and some hot cocoa and treat him to a lovely night at home. But, when she brought him his food and drink, he just told her he wasn’t hungry, even after seeing all the effort she was putting in for him. 

That’s when something inside of her just snapped. She set the plate and mug on the table fecklessly, spilling some cocoa in the process. Marshall seemed a bit startled, knowing Y/N doesn’t usually throw fits like this and she usually keeps her temper in check. 

-God, Marsh! Would it kill you to at least give me a thank you? I’ve tried so hard to find out what’s wrong, and you won’t tell me! What happened to me being your #1 and your best friend? And come on! Look at this meal I made for you! Can’t you see how badly I want you to let me help you? 

-Fuck! I’m sorry I’m not living up to your boyfriend standards, Y/N! But, clearly, I had a rough day so just drop it! 

-You know what Marshall? I have bad days too! But you don’t see me bitching about it and acting like a little kid every time something doesn’t go my way! And even when I do feel upset, I tell you what’s wrong! Because I actually care about your feelings and I wouldn’t want you to worry!

- Oh, so, now I don’t care?! All I ever do is care about you Y/N! I write songs about you, I buy you everything you look at to make you happy, not to mention I make you feel pretty damn good!

- It’s not about that Marsh! God, are you even listening to me?! I don’t care that you’re upset, or that you’re in a bad mood or feeling mean; I just want you to tell me! I want you to communicate with me! I want us to work through our problems calmly, without me having to shout to get your attention!

-You always say that, but you never actually do it! Whenever you’re upset you just stay quiet! So don’t go telling me how to deal with my problems because you sure as hell don’t know how to deal with yours!

-Fuck you!

-Oh, piss off!

-Fuck, Marsh! This isn’t about me! We can work through what I do, but you seriously need to stop! 

-Stop it, Y/N! Stop already! If everything I do is so terrible and wrong, then why not just break up with me already? 

-Because I love you! I care so much about you and I just wish you could see it.

-You’re just saying that because you know I don’t need your ass. You know I can get with whoever the hell I want and they won't criticize me or complain about everything I do half as much as you do!

Y/N stayed silent for a bit. Her heart dropped and she could feel the lump develop in her throat. All this time she was with Marshall, she’d had her insecurities. But, he helped her work through them slowly. He helped her make sure she knew he’d never hurt her like that.

But, now, all that hard work was out the window. With those simple words. The tears began to prick her eyes and she looked down at the floor to try and conceal it. She felt like a little girl being yelled at. She felt helpless, and small. The man who was supposed to love her the most, to protect her, had failed her. He made her feel alone.

Marshall instantly felt a wave of regret wash over him. He felt it surge from his mind up to the tips of his ears down to the points of his toes. He looked at the girl he loves, knowing how badly he just hurt her. He opened his mouth to apologize, knowing he’d gone too far and he didn’t mean it; but, before he could, she had walked past him and into their bedroom. He quickly turned on his heels to follow her. 

Y/N was grabbing a few of her things: a hoodie, her phone charger, some gum, her earbuds, and some shoes. He once again tried to apologize but she wouldn’t hear it. He followed her all the way down to the garage and watched as she hopped in her car and sped off. He wasn’t sure where she was going, and, to be honest, neither was she. 

She hated herself for complaining and she hated him for being so mean to her. But, deep down, she knew she loved him more than anything and everything. She gripped her steering wheel harder, and turned up the volume of the song she was listening to. 

She pulled into the parking lot for some random bar she heard of from one of her friends. Her friend said it was the best place to go if you’re feeling sad or having a rough night. 

When she walked in, the bar looked exactly how she felt. It was dimly lit, the smell reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. There were barely enough people to call a crown in there, all sitting far apart with a drink in hand. Everyone looked glum in there, so she’d blend right in. She sat at the bar and ordered herself a few shots of rum. She downed them quickly, not feeling much different. She then ordered herself a vodka, which she kept refilling until the bartender just gave her the bottle. 

She kept feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. She assumed it was Marshall. She didn’t really want to respond, but she still looked, just in case. It was actually a text from her best friend asking what happened. Of course. Marshall texted her friend to see if Y/N was okay (since she usually goes to her best friend in times of need). Y/N decided not to answer, she was in more of a “fuck the world” kind of mood.

She set her phone down on the counter, finally feeling the effects of the alcohol. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get home or if she was going to get home at all. Before she could continue that thought, she saw a series of texts, making her phone buzz repeatedly. 

The contact name read “marsh :)”. She truly didn’t want to speak to him at the moment. She wasn’t sure why what he said affected her this way, but it did, and he knew that. She knew she was probably just being sensitive, but she couldn’t help but feel attacked. 

She looked at her phone again and saw Marshall’s concerned text chain.

“hello?”

“babyyy??”

“look baby i’m so sorry i know i messed up big time. please call me back so i can fix this.”

She didn’t bother reading the rest. She got more texts from him and her best friend. They seemed really concerned now. It was unlike Y/N, not answering the phone. It was cold, far too cold for someone of her character. However, Y/N wasn’t in the mood or the headspace to care about her character. She was too busy trying to keep her head upright as her vision blurred a bit from the effects of the white russian she was creating in her stomach at the moment. From that point forward, she couldn’t really recollect anything that had happened. The next thing she knew, she felt a pair of strong arms lifting her up by the waist and into their arms bridal-style. 

…

The next day, Y/N woke up in her bed alongside a snoring Marshall that had his arms wrapped around her tightly. She slowly shimmied out of his embrace, head beginning to pound when she stood up. She went downstairs and sat at the kitchen table with a small tonic for hangovers in hand. 

As she was washing the cup she was just using, Y/N heard a set of booming footsteps as they pounded against the wooden staircase. She turned around to look at Marshall. He looked incredible. His hair was a bit tousled and his eyes and lips were puffy. He came down and approached her without a second thought. The first thing he did was put his lips against hers. The kiss was warm, brilliant. 

Y/N crumpled under his touch. He pulled back and smiled slightly at her. His heart grew seeing her in front of him. He smiled even wider when he saw her smile back; however, he knew he wasn’t forgiven just yet. 

-Wait, look, I gotcha something.

He quickly walked into the living room and grabbed a small box and turned to the kitchen.

-I bought this a while ago. I wanted to give it to you somewhere better but this seemed like the right time.

Y/N opened the little box gingerly, a little nervous to see its contents. Her jaw dropped a tad when she saw it. 

A small ring, diamond encrusted and the exact type of metal she wears. It was perfectly tailored to her tastes. She looked up at him, eyebrow slightly raised.

-It’s a promise ring. I know what I said last night was fucked up but I didn’t mean it at all. I love you more than anything and you know that. I could never be with anyone else knowing that you’re out there in the world. 

He took the ring out of the box and secured it onto her finger. He then kissed her hand softly. She smiled taking in the view.

Then, she knew, more than anything, that she was truly loved.

[mistresscitrusslice]

Thank you so much for going through the effort to even get screenshots! It’s seriously appreciated.

You make a good point, not least of which because this circle looks like a blast zone that came from within. It even pushed other bodies away. I’ve never seen Kindred gameplay, idk what their protective powers look like, but generally spells that are cast on you by someone else use the caster as the center of the spell, not the target. (Basically, the blast circle wouldn’t have been centered on Ambessa, but on the Wolf.)

The protected area around Mel and Jayce when they wake up doesn’t look like a blast zone the way it did with Ambessa (other than, you know, the Actual Bomb), so I’m not sure what to make of that.

I did not know that Ambessa had a bio already, let alone that included stuff from her music video! I thought she just had her blurb. It’s great that they clarified who she was pregnant with eventually. Uh, where’s Kino while she’s out at war then??? I imagine that Kino’s father was probably also a soldier and in the army too. Hopefully Kino was with relatives or family friends.

Also, Rokrund! It’s nice to get a name for the specific region Ambessa is from other than just the wider nation of Noxus. Is this a new name we’re hearing or has it appeared in any other League lore/media before?

“Visions that she would speak of to few others.” I wonder who those few are. Given how she treats her children, I cannot trust that even her kids are among these few. Their dad, maybe? I hesitate to say “Ambessa’s husband” because she definitely does not act like she has a husband, or maybe he’s deceased.

I plead the fifth on the Solari stuff because I know jack shit about the Solari, and if it turns out that Mel does have Solari magic, I do want to be surprised by their lore.

It still puzzles me why, if she does have magic, she wouldn’t use it to defend herself. You mentioned it being linked to situations with certain death. I’m iffy on this because it feels convoluted and kind of like a cop-out if that really is the reason can’t use it at will. If it is the case, though, then maybe Viktor wasn’t hurt because his magic clashed with hers, but because his death wasn’t guaranteed. I rewatched the opening scene, and he was still moving a little when Jayce performed Hexcore magic on him. If his death wasn’t certain, then the magic had no need to save him.

More likely, Mel’s magic has a cooldown and a long period where she needs to build enough magic back up to be able to use, but most likely, Mel doesn’t even know she has magic. There’s no sense in concealing her magic now, especially not after it saved herself and Jayce. Sure, it’d be a bad idea to come out about it to the world even after Piltover accepted Hextech since it would’ve been a secret for so long. However, I do believe she would’ve told Jayce. If not before, then definitely after it saved the two of them and Viktor still almost died.

Jayce needs as much information as he can get to figure out what’s going on with Viktor. Mel cares a lot about Jayce and seems to also care for Viktor even if she disagreed with him last season. She also has the same innate curiosity that Jayce and Viktor do. She’d want him to be able to solve this puzzle with all the information at his disposal and has been able to open up to him in the past with the trust that he would not share her secrets. She’d tell him so that they could figure out why her magic didn’t work as it was supposed to.

Unless there’s a reason we haven’t been told for why she needs to keep this hidden? If you squint your ears real hard, her line of “There’s no sense to these things, Jayce” in response to “How does the explosion do that to him and I just walk out without a scratch” sounds a bit like she’s trying to get him to drop the subject. After all, there is sense to these things for a scientist. There’s physics and calculations that go into why every single piece of debris falls in the way that it does. Which direction it flies in, how much heat is dispersed, the shock absorption in everything and every person in the blast radius, how far each person gets pushed across the room. To Jayce, “there’s no sense” might not be a comforting thing to hear. So was Mel just trying and failing to comfort him or was she attempting to change the subject? Or am I just reading too much into it?

Lmao imagine tho if Jayce found out she has magic, whether she already knew or not. He’d want to study her! And honestly she’d probably be down for it to find out even more ways to use her powers, maybe a way to replicate it with Hextech so more people can have a way to stay safe! That would actually be a good way to use Hextech to help people. And maybe Mel just has a scientist kink, who knows

Mel's protection should have saved Viktor too, and she's trying to figure out why it didn't

S2 ep1 shows a circle of protected stone where Mel and Jayce were during the explosion. My theory is that Mel's magic armor activated and saved them both. It seems like it casts a sphere of protection around wherever Mel is.

The center of this circle is not Mel's seat - it's Jayce's. She ran to Jayce to save him.

No other Councilors were in range of Mel's protection, so they all got hurt or killed.

But Viktor was, Jayce's words, "right next to" him. He was easily within Mel's circle of protection.

1) Viktor tried to run and mistakenly left the circle of protection. But are we meant to believe that Viktor, close to dying already and using a crutch, would have outrun Mel?

2) Viktor's augmented body clashes with Mel's

Why does Mel try to touch Viktor in episode 1? It seems like a throwaway moment, but not even Jayce touches him in this scene. So why Mel?

She's curious. And possibly, feeling responsible. She's wondering why her protection didn't work.

Is this Hexcore brand of the Arcane trying to reach out to Mel? Or trying to defend itself from her?

Mel was trying to protect both Jayce and Viktor, which is reflected in how she holds Jayce as well as Viktor's cane when she promises to protect Hextech:

But if, for example, Mel's magic is Solari in origin, and Viktor's is from the Void - or the Arcane equivalent of similar opposing forces - then it's possible that their magic rejects or hurts one another. So Mel's circle of protection either rejected Viktor, or was what hurt Viktor, and not the explosion.

[mountttmase]

Change Of Heart

The End - Part Six

Note - wow, I can’t believe we made it to the end 😭 thank you all so much for reading and for your kind words throughout. I really hoped you enjoyed this as much as I have and thank you again to Elisa for being so patient with me. I’d love to know what you all think and enjoyyyyy

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 10.7k

Warnings - series contains angst & fluff

Day and night you thought about Mason. About what your life would be like if you got the guts to let him in and tell him how you really felt now but everytime you thought about it, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Months passed and all you did was fall deeper and deeper for your best friend. Seeing him more often than ever didn’t exactly help the situation either but the fact the pair of you were so domestic just made it all even harder.

You were in a perfect routine with him. Home games with you both in his shirt when you could and away games if they were close by. Dinner together as a family at least twice a week with Mason picking up Gee from nursery every Wednesday to give you some time to yourself but you knew he liked taking her out for treats as well. So much so you pretend you didn’t see anything when she came back with chocolate ice cream stains down her dress as her happy smile made up for all of it.

You wondered if he’d maybe caught onto the fact your feelings had changed. It felt so obvious to you in the way you acted around him now as he made you so nervous and flustered, but if it was obvious then he didn’t say anything. He was still your typical kind and loving Mason and you were trying so hard to be his best friend.

You didn’t know what was holding you back. You were pretty certain he felt the same but it had been so long since you’d heard him say anything of the sort you’d managed to talk yourself into thinking that his feelings had vanished. What exactly did you have to offer him anyway? You were a single mum who was just about getting by when he could no doubt have any girl he laid his eyes on.

That didn’t make you feel any less for him, if anything as the months went by all you did was fall for him more. He made you feel happy and warm and filled your house with so much laughter and love that when he wasn’t around you felt lost. Even when he was by your side you still found yourself drifting off into your own imagination to think about what life would be like if you were an item and right now was no different.

You knew Mason was talking, but the piece of paper in your pocket was burning a hole through your jeans and it wasn’t long before he noticed you were in your own world and bumped your shoulder gently.

‘Y/n? You listening to me?’ He scolded lightly. Turning to face you and he must have picked up on the moody look on your face as his face dropped as soon as you caught eyes. ‘Y/n? What’s wrong’

‘It’s nothing-‘

‘No don’t do that’ he interrupted, placing his arm around your shoulders for a bit of comfort and you had to refrain from nuzzling yourself into him further. ‘You know you can tell me’

‘It’s Gee’s nursery’ you huffed. Figuring you may as well come clean. ‘They’re putting on a parents day thing for Christmas and… I don’t know, I'm just overthinking it too much. You know what this time of years like, it’s all gonna be about families and there’s gonna be all those kids with both parents there for them and-’

‘Stop it. You give Gee everything. You’re mum and dad rolled into one and Gee loves you, she thinks you’re a superhero’ he reassured you and you didn’t realise how much you needed to hear that from him until he’d said it. Your eyes filling with tears as you hid you face away again to take some breaths but he held you the whole time.

‘Will you come? To parents day?’ You asked. His eyebrows shooting straight up in shock but you just sent him a reassuring smile. ‘I know it’s a bit of a weird ask but she’s actually invited you’ you laughed, looking at his confused face as you pulled the invitation out so he could see his name written on the front under yours in Gee’s best attempt at writing. ‘If you’re busy it’s fine but she’s written your name and everything’

‘Well how can I say no to that huh?’ He laughed and you could tell he was a little emotional about it as his eyes became glossy. ‘I reckon if we asked Woody over we could recreate that picture’ he laughed, trying to mask how emotional he was with a joke. ‘Where is Gee anyway? I’ll go tell her I’m coming’

‘Watching tv, she said she had a long day and needed to unwind’ you told him, rolling your eyes at her sass and he quickly placed a kiss on your head before going to join her.

You joined them too not long after. Laughing as they were both laid on their bellies with their faces in their hands so they could watch tv together and it struck you how alike they were. You always thought Gee could pass as Masons own child but having had him be around consistently for well over a year now they were like little twins.

'Do you wanna stay for dinner?' You asked him, brows raised as you looked over to him but there was an expression on his face you'd never seen before and it made your tummy drop.

'Oh um I can't, I've got plans already' he nodded. Sitting up to face you and scratching the back of his neck as he looked to the floor so you decided to play dumb and see what he said in hopes you could confirm your suspicions.

'Oh, is Woody visiting? You didn't tell me'

'No, it's um… it's no one you know' he shrugged and you knew he was never going to come out with it so you decided to call him out.

‘Wait a minute, are you going on a date?' You asked him and his face told you everything you needed to know. A sinking feeling in your tummy at the realisation but you made sure you kept it together.

'I date, I just don't broadcast it everywhere’ he laughed. Your mind reeling and trying to think back when he may have been out before with someone without you knowing but you shut it off quickly. Not liking how you felt when thinking about him with another girl but thankfully he didn't let you dwell on it as he stood up and gathered his things. 'I better go, I need a shower and everything. Are you alright?'

'Yeah fine, sorry um, have a nice time, yeah? Good luck’ you spluttered, trying to look busy so he couldn't see the heat travelling up your neck but his hand on your wrist made you stop in your tracks.

'Thanks love' he smiled, kissing your forehead quickly just like always but all you felt was sadness.

The rest of the evening went by slowly. You and Gee getting into your pjs after dinner so you could watch some Disney films under a blanket but you couldn’t focus on anything for too long. Thoughts of Mason and who he might be with filled your mind and you’d never felt more miserable.

If he was going out on dates then he’d clearly moved on and left his feelings for you in the past. It's not like you could blame him, you’d never given him a sign that you wanted anything more and he’d waited long enough. He deserved to be happy but it was tearing you apart that it wouldn’t be you that could give him what he needed now.

You were up and out early the next morning as you were meeting Ell for breakfast but you saw the way her face changed with just one look at you. Waiting until Gee and Tommy were in their respective seats before she dived in.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked carefully but you didn’t know what to say. She’d guessed a few months back that your feelings had changed for him a little bit but knew you weren’t ready to do anything about it and never pushed you. Right now you wished she’d had though and as you were still feeling just as miserable.

‘Mason, he’s um… he went in a date yesterday’

‘Okay?’ She breathed. Looking at you questioningly as if she couldn’t understand what the big deal was and you knew you’d have to explain further.

‘I don’t know, I just feel weird about it. He’s never told me before but I bet he’s been on loads. I mean look at him of course he has’ you sighed and you felt your eyes sting the more you thought about him with someone else.

‘Oh babe’ she pouted. Reaching over and taking you hand and as much as you didn’t want Gee seeing you upset you couldn’t seem to hold it together.

‘I’ve missed my chance haven’t I?’ You croaked. Using you other hand to quickly wipe your cheeks so your tears went as quickly as they came.

‘Not necessarily. You said he was just on a date right? That could be anything, it’s probably just a first date’ she tried to reassure you but your mind was already reeling.

‘Yeah but it could also be a third or a fifth or maybe he’s actually got a girlfriend and they’re in bed right now and she gets to kiss him and do all the things I should be doing’ you spiralled and before you knew it you were snatching your hand away from hers and grabbing your phone out of your bag. ‘That's it, I’m calling him’

‘Y/n, no! You can’t’ Ell cried out. Reaching for you phone and somehow snatching it from your hand before you’d even realised.

‘Why not?’

‘Whatever he’s doing he’s allowed to do! He’s single okay, don’t ruin it for him’ she told you and it’s like her words were a slap to the face.

She was right. He wasn’t yours anywhere else but in your own head so if he was in bed with someone else right now then it didn’t matter how much it was tearing you apart. He was well within his rights to see whoever he wanted and it made you feel like crap to think about. This was your own doing though and when you looked up to Ell she was looking at you sympathetically.

‘Look, i think you need to tell him how you feel’

‘I can’t’ you croaked, your emotions attempting to get the better of you but you swallowed them down as best you could.

‘You can, okay? This has gotten way out of hand like you can’t be trying to jeopardise his dates and keep tabs on him if you’re not going to tell him what’s going on in your head. So you either tell him how you’re feeling and move forward or you keep quiet and leave him be’ she told. ‘I’m sorry for the tough love babe, but I just want you to be happy and I know that Mason would give you the world if you just asked’

‘I don’t know, I’ll think about it’

‘Well I’m keeping hold of your phone until we’re done’ she winked and even though you knew she was being serious you knew she was trying to make you laugh.

You didn’t hear much from Mason over the next few days. You knew he was busy in recovery whilst also trying to get a few personal projects off the ground but you also didn’t feel like you could message him. Pulling yourself back from him a little bit as you were feeling awkward and sad about the whole situation but you knew deep down you were just incredibly jealous.

It got to the point where you weren’t sure if he was even coming to Gee’s performance anymore but as soon as you’d got in from work you felt your phone buzz and Masons name pop up on your screen.

The thought of seeing him the next day filled you with mixed emotions and you couldn’t tell if you were excited or completely terrified. One the one hand you knew you’d have to hear all about his date and how well it went but you but on the other hand you had missed him to the point you didn’t care and just wanted to be around him.

You dropped Gee off early so they could get her into her costume and asked Ell to save you two seats whilst you waited outside for Mason. He was taking a while though and you thought you might have to abandon him soon so you didn’t miss anything but as soon as you turned back to the door his voice rung through the car park.

‘Hey sugar’ you suddenly heard from behind you and when you turned to face him, he pulled you straight into a hug before you could even look at him.

‘Sugar?’ You laughed but he didn’t explain himself. Just held you tighter and buried himself into your neck. ‘I was beginning to think you’d be late’ you told him, pulling back and budging his shoulder but the ever persistent cheeky smile he gave you made you smile back just as wide.

‘Couldn’t find anywhere to park, I've been walking for about ten years’ he joked. Slinging his arm around your shoulder and kissing your forehead before his eye landed on the two huge Christmas trees dangling from your ears. ‘Nice earrings’

‘I’m just trying to get into the spirit of things’

‘Well you look great. Makes me look under dressed but I thought it was best I keep things on the down low’ he winked before his face turned a little more serious. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve seemed a bit off, I really wanted to be completely free today for Gee so I had to move some things around but you’ve got me uninterrupted for the rest of the day’

‘That’s okay, you don’t need to explain’ you told him but he just shrugged as he let you go so you could walk into the main reception.

‘I know, but I’ve missed you. I haven’t even had a second to think about anything else but work but it’s like now I’m back with my favourite people’

‘I’ve missed you, too’ you whispered. It hitting you then that you really had and now you knew he had the rest of the day free you thought you’d make sure you could spend as much time as you could with him. ‘Maybe after all this is over you can come back and we can catch up a bit more?’

‘Did you even need to ask’ he laughed.

Mason helped himself to the complimentary mince pies on the way into the hall before sending you a wink. Letting you lead him over to the two seats so he could say hello to Ell and Noah before you got settled for the show to begin.

‘So how was your little date the other night?’ You asked before you even realised what you’d said and you wished you could take it back. You didn’t want to know about him and any other woman but you couldn’t turn back time now. Not even having the courage to look at him as he answered but you knew he wasn’t looking your way either.

‘It was fine’ he shrugged.

‘Just fine?’

‘Yeah’

‘Wow Mase, say how you really feel’ you laughed sarcastically, your eyes flickering over to him for a second and you could see his cheeks were bright red and he was biting back a smile.

‘Fine, you wanna know how it really went?’ He asked, turning towards you in his seat as he wrapped his arms around the back of your chair and as much as you wanted to say no you didn’t.

‘Yes’ you whispered.

‘She didn’t stop talking, like non stop to the point she was talking whilst she ate and she accidentally spat pasta into my eye’

‘Oh Mase’ you giggled. Finally turning to look at him as you covered your mouth with your hand but he just rolled his eyes as he squeezed your shoulder.

Has he always been this gorgeous? you thought. His bright brown eyes full of warmth as he looked down at you and you could feel yourself blushing under his stare.

‘So yeah, that’s how it went’

‘Safe to say you won’t be seeing her again?’

‘Safe to say I won’t be seeing anyone again, at least not for a little while anyway. She’s traumatised me. The only other person I’ve seen that Messy with pasta is Gee’ he grumbled. Turning back in his seat as the lights were dimming and the show was almost about to start.

You felt a weight lift from your heart immediately knowing there was no other woman you had to worry about now but the reality finally settled in that you would have to let him know how you felt before another came along. He’d mentioned that he didn’t want to date but you didn’t know if he was being serious or not and figured you better tell him while you had the courage.

You noticed Gee as soon as she stepped out on stage in her Giant Christmas tree costume but you could tell straight away she couldn’t see you. Her eyes frantically searching the crowd as her bottom lip dropped in fear you might not be there but it was Mason who made himself known. Standing up and waving his arms whilst calling her name and she found him within an instant.

You thought Mason had wanted to be inconspicuous today from the way he was dressed and what he’d said earlier but that had clearly gone out the window as he’d just announced himself to the whole room so Gee wouldn’t get upset thinking you weren’t there for her.

It was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen, the look of relief washing over her face which quickly turned to excitement as she waved back at him before blowing multiple kisses to which he returned. A chorus of quiet awwws ringing out through the room as she continued to blow kisses to the whole crowd so after you’d given her a wave to let her know you were here too, you pulled Mason back down to sit next to you and he gave you a shy smile.

‘What happened to being on the down low?’ You laughed but he just pursed his lips with a smile and shrugged his shoulders.

‘Yeah that’s gone out the window a bit hasn’t it. I won’t have my baby girl being upset though, so it was worth it’ he told you but he must have caught onto the shocked expression on your face and knew he needed to explain a bit further. ‘I know she’s not mine, but she sort of is’

‘Sometimes I think she’s like your double’ you smiled at him. Thinking back to them sat watching tv together the other day but you didn’t have a chance to say anything else. The sound of rocking around the Christmas tree blaring through the speakers and suddenly everyone was silent.

You could barely see what Gee was doing through the tears that were welling in your eyes. It was a dance she’s been practising at home with you for weeks but to see her front and centre shaking her stuff as she sung her heart out made you feel like the proudest mum in the world and when Mason slid his hand into yours and squeezed it to offer you some comfort, you held on tightly.

It had been a long road to get here. Long nights of uncertainty of whether you were doing the right thing by becoming a single mum and moving hundreds of miles away from anyone you knew but it was moments like this that made you realise it was all worth it. She was the most important thing in your world, a reason for you to get up in the mornings and carry on and you knew as long as you had her you’d always have everything you’d always dreamed of.

Once all the theatrics were over about an hour later there was time for all the parents to chat but you mostly stuck with Ell as the pair of you didn’t really know any of the other mums, and you let Noah and Mason grab you all some drinks whilst you waited for all the kids to come out.

You knew all eyes were on Mason, and you knew he knew that too. Standing right by your side with his cap on low to hide his face but that was all out the window when Gee came back. Chucking her up in the air until she was giggling like a maniac and it wasn’t long before the first dad came over with their son to ask Mason for a cheeky autograph and a selfie.

‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ You asked, watching a mini queue form but he just shrugged as he turned to you with a big smile.

‘Probably not, but I hate saying no’ he told you and thankfully it didn’t take too long to get through everyone. The four of you deciding to head out and back yours for some food and you watched with a soft expression as Mason walked the kids back to your car with one on each hand.

As Mason was parked a road or two away he let you know he’d meet you back home and dashed off but as you reached for Gee, Ell stopped you.

‘I’ll take, Gee. You need to talk to him’ she told you firmly and you knew she was right.

‘I will’ you nodded. Quickly putting Gee’s car seat in Ell’s car and telling her you’d come and get her later but she seemed excited about going to Tommy's house for a bit.

You were full of nerves the whole ride back, trying to think about what you wanted to say but the ride was short and sweet and all you felt was an overwhelming sense of nerves by the time you got back.

‘Hey, where’s Gee? And I thought they were all coming back here?’ Mason asked as you got out of the car. He was lent against his own but he followed you up to the front door whilst you frantically thought of an excuse as to why you were on your own.

‘Oh um… Gee was kicking up a fuss about ice cream and wanting to see Ell’s Hamster so she’s taken her for a couple of hours with Tommy. Thought maybe we could finally have a bit more of a catch up like we said?’ You offered and he sent you a nod as his cheeks reddened.

‘Okay, yeah. Let’s do it’ he smiled shyly. Letting you lead him into the house before ushering him into the living room whilst you got him a drink.

You used the time you were in the kitchen to calm yourself down a bit. This was Mason you thought to yourself and when you made it back to the living room he was looking at you with a huge smile as he waved his phone in the air.

‘You fancy a cheeky maccies? I didn’t have lunch I’m bloody starving’

‘Go on then’ you laughed. Taking his phone from him so you could add your order and before long you were chatting away as you shoved nuggets in your mouth. Thankfully the pair of you kept away from the whole dating topic and just spoke about upcoming plans and how he’d been playing recently after another short spell out but thankfully he was in good spirits about it all.

‘I fancy a coffee, you want one?’ You asked him after you finished off your last fry and he was nodding his head as he shoved the last in of his own so you quickly tidied up and made your way to the kitchen to make you both one. It suddenly hitting you that you hadn’t spoken about what you’d meant to as you were so caught up in just being together so you used the few minutes the kettle was boiling to think about how you were going to broach the subject.

‘What you watching?’ You asked as you walked back in with his coffee. Placing it down on the coffee table before taking a seat next to him and when he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his body you just went with it. Cuddling up with him on the sofa and he scrubbed the video back to the beginning.

It was a video of Gee from earlier, right at the front singing her song and doing her little dance and you felt your eyes sting again at how proud you were of the tiny human you’d created.

‘She’s so funny, I still can’t believe I cried through the whole thing’

‘That’s why I thought I better record it, thought you wouldn’t be able to see much through all the tears in your eyes’ he laughed but you just patted him on the chest playfully.

You both sat and laughed at how into it she was, cuddling into Mason like you couldn’t get close enough and when you looked up at him as the video finished his lips were merely an inch from yours.

The air shifted within a nanosecond. Time suddenly standing still as he froze in front of you and you did the only thing you wanted to and pushed up slightly. Placing your lips on his in a gentle kiss before pulling back to gage his reaction but he hadn’t moved. He didn't kiss you back but you didn’t exactly give him a chance to and he wasn’t backing off so you leaned in again in hopes this time he’d reciprocate. Thankfully after a beat or two he did and as you both sighed into each other's mouths you deepened the kiss even further.

It was like any sense of anything left your bodies as you kissed each other. Your free hand holding his jaw as he kissed you back softly and you thought you might have died and gone to heaven. Not believing yourself that this was the first kiss the pair of you had ever shared and your tummy was fluttering with how gentle he was being with you. Both lost in each other as you wondered what had taken this long to get here but soon you didn’t have time to think for too much longer. Feeling Mason pulling away and she shook himself out of whatever trance he was in and you felt all the blood in your body rush to your cheeks.

‘Shit, sorry y/n I-‘

‘No don’t be sorry, it wasn’t you. I kissed you first’

‘Yeah but I shouldn’t have kissed you back’

‘Why?’ You breathed, confused as to why he seemed so upset with himself but he was now looking back at you just as confused.

‘Cause you don’t want this’ he told you, speaking to you like he was talking to a crazy person. ‘You’ve told me this isn’t what you want so many times-‘

‘I was wrong, I do want this’ you cut him off, sitting up properly so you could finally speak to him properly about your feelings but this wasn’t how you expected it to be coming out or for him to be looking back at you.

Shocked? Maybe. But horrified? This wasn’t on your list.

‘What? I don’t… what do you mean?’

‘I was just confused, I’ve wanted you and us for the longest time I swear. I heard you talking to Gee when she was a baby and telling her how you still loved me and-‘

‘What? That was years ago’

‘I know, and I’ve been thinking about it for years’

‘You knew and you didn’t say anything? He asked, his voice easing slightly but you knew it was just because he was upset with you.

‘Mase please just listen’ you pleaded. The hurt across his face was unbearable and you wanted to reassure him in some way but you were so flustered you couldn't get anything out properly. ‘You’re my best friend, yeah? Always have been but hearing you still loved me, like after all this time still, it just made me wonder what life would be like if things were different and somewhere along the way I got confused like you’re so good with Gee especially after Jack left you really held us all together and you’re always there for her-‘

‘So because I’m good with Gee you think that’s enough?’

‘No, not at all Mason that’s just an extra-‘

‘So what then? Are you confused?’ He cut you off and you’re starting to get frustrated at how he kept batting you away.

‘No Mase’ you huffed, wishing he would just listen but you understood why he wasn’t.

‘Well what is it?’ He demanded. His voice desperate as he moved himself away from you and you felt your heart plummet as he moved to stand on the other side of the room.

‘Will you let me just talk? You know how much I hate being interrupted’

‘Let me guess, Jack always did the same?’ He scoffed and you were confused as to why he’d bought him up even if he was right.

‘Well yeah he did, and I don’t need you doing the same’

‘Why do you always fucking do that?’ He exploded and you were taken aback by the way he was being. He’d never once spoken to you like this before and whilst you knew you had nothing to be afraid of in anyway it still shocked you.

‘Do what?’

‘Comepare me to him all the fucking time?’

‘I don’t-‘ you defended but it was no use. Mason was furious and ready to give you it with both barrels.

‘You do!’ He insisted even louder. ‘Apart from what we’ve got between our legs I’m nothing like him and you know it’

‘Mase-‘

‘When he left, who picked up the pieces and expected nothing in return, huh? It was me, yeah? It was me and I’ve looked after you and Gee like she was my own ever since just for you to tell me I’m the same as the scumbag that never deserved you? Who left at the first sign of a struggle. It was me that stepped up, me that took care of everything, of you, and you take every chance you get to tear me down’

‘Mase please’ you sobbed. Wanting him to calm down a bit so you could talk rationally but every word that came out of your mouth seemed to just wind him up more.

‘And now you wanna tell me you wanna be with me? You’ve known how I’ve felt about you this whole fucking time and you’d stayed silent. Why now huh? Why have you strung me along for so long? so I can babysit?’

‘That’s not it-‘

‘What is it then? I’m good with Gee and you think that’s all it takes for us to work? You didn’t say one thing about me, it was all about what I can give to you’ he carried on. Getting more wound up with each word that came out of his mouth and you had no idea how to stop him now.

‘Mason please, I got confused’ you whimpered and even though he’d stopped shouting you could see he wasn’t done yet. Expelling all the air from his lungs in a shaky breath before sliding his hands over his face and you wondered what he was about to hit you with next but to your surprise his voice was much quieter yet more emotional.

‘I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember y/n’ he croaked and you felt your heart shatter as his bottom lip wobbled. ‘Everytime i see you I can feel it and it’s torn me apart that you’ve never felt the same’

‘Thats what im trying to tell you though, i have, I do feel the same Mason, I just couldn’t tell you’

‘Why not ?’ He demanded, but you didn’t have an answer for him. Not a reasonable sounding enough one anyway but Mason was coming to his own conclusions as he looked at you. ‘Is this because I went on a date the other night?’

‘No-‘

‘It is, isn't it? You thought you had me wrapped around your finger but now you know i'm not you’re saying you like me so I don’t leave you’

‘Will you just stop-‘

You were cut off by your phone ringing in the side, looking down to see it was Ell and you knew you had to answer so you quickly cleared your throat before picking up in hopes you’d sound as normal as possible.

‘Hey Ell, everything okay?’

‘Yeah fine, I think little miss is getting tired though, I think it’s best you come get her’

‘Of course. I won’t be long, okay?’ You told her but before you’d even hung up Mason was already making his way to the door.

‘I’ll go, I need some air’ he told you, leaving before you could say anything else and once you were finally alone you let yourself fall to the sofa and let your emotions out properly.

Even in your worst case scenario in your head you never envisioned this happening. You figured he’d be somewhat confused and a but unsure at first but the pure rage coming from him was so out of character and you weren’t sure what the future held for the two of you now.

You knew Mason could tell you’d been crying when he got back. Placing Gee on the floor so she could run to you and you scooped her up and held her close whilst Mason shuffled uncomfortably at the door.

‘Listen, I’m gonna head off yeah. Let you put Gee to bed’ he nodded quietly and you felt your heart sink.

‘Oh’ you breathed, wondering why he didn’t want to stay and talk things through, especially after how upset you clearly were but you just nodded and placed Gee back on the floor. ‘Go say goodbye to Uncle Masey and we’ll get ready for a bath, yeah?’

Your heart broke as he placed little kisses all over her face, her giggles filling the hall as he told her he’d see her soon before nudging her back to you.

‘I’ll um, I’ll see you soon then’

‘Okay’ you whispered, unable to look at him so you picked Gee up and made your way up the stairs without another look at him. Your tummy dropping when you heard the door shut a few moments after and you knew he’d gone.

Gee was quiet as you got her bathed and ready for an early night. Not sure if it was because she was tired from the days events or she could tell you were upset but you were thankful that she wanted to go to sleep now even if she was being a little clingy. You stayed with her though until she was fully out but all you were thinking about was Mason and how you’d both move on from here.

That would have to wait for now though. All you could think about was the chocolate cake in your fridge that you’d saved for a moment alone so when you were certain Gee was definitely fast asleep, you gently kissed her head and made your way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

‘Fuck!’ You squealed. Hands clutching at your chest as your heart threatened to burst free. The sight in the corner of your eye making you do a double take before you were jumping out of your skin. ‘What the fuck, Mason’

‘Sorry’ he whispered. Standing by the fridge with his arms crossed over his body and you noticed he hadn’t looked directly at you once.

‘How did you get back in? I never heard you’ you asked, gulping to try and readjust your breathing as inconspicuously as you could but it didn’t really matter as his eyes were still trained on the floor.

‘I never left in the first place’ he told you and you realised that when you heard the door shut earlier he never actually left but had simply shut the door and waited downstairs for you.

He’d stayed for a reason, but you weren't quite sure if he knew what that was. Clearly he wanted to talk but right now he had his arms still crossed over his body and his head down as he looked at his shoes but you could tell he was chewing on his bottom lip which meant he was trying to keep his emotions in.

All you wanted to do was comfort him. Not sure if he wanted you close to him but you pushed that to the side and slowly made your way over to stand right in front of him.

He didn’t move a muscle, just kept his eyes down as you waited for him to look at you, but you knew he wouldn’t without a little encouragement so in the end you held him at his jaw and tilted his head up so he’d finally look at you. The tears welling in his eyes made your heart ache and all you wanted was to reassure him and let him know you were serious.

‘I’m so sorry, Mase’ you whispered, your tummy dropping as he shut his eyes and his tears spilled over. Wiping them away as quickly as you could before uncrossing his arms and placing them around your waist in hopes he’d hug you and once your arms were around his neck he pulled you in as close as he could.

‘I’m sorry for shouting at you’ he whispered. His voice full of tears as he spoke into your neck, but you just shook your head to let him know it was okay.

‘It’s okay, i probably deserved it’

‘No you didn’t, I just… I’m so confused’ he told you, peeling himself away so he could look at you properly and you hated the way he looked so vulnerable.

‘Shall we talk then? Talk properly and figure it all out?’

‘Okay’ he nodded and you took his hand to lead him back into the living room so you could talk. The smell of your untouched coffees from earlier still hanging thick in the air as you tried to clear your mind of all the angry words he’d thrown your way not too long ago but you could tell he was in a completely different mind set now. The anger subsided and vulnerability in its place and you just prayed you could finally get your thoughts together and tell him how you felt properly.

‘I’m a bit nervous’ he chuckled. Making sure you were comfy on the sofa as he tucked you into his side and you smiled up at him as you were feeling the exact same.

‘Me too. I don’t really know where to start’ you laughed and even though he’d clearly calmed down and wanted to talk you still didn’t want to set him off again.

‘You said you heard me talking to Gee once? What did you hear?’ He asked quietly but he could see you were nervous to talk so he took your hand and squeezed it gently. ‘It’s okay, you can tell me. I’m not gonna have a strop again I promise’ he chuckled and you felt your shoulder relax.

‘It was when she called you dada for the first time and you told her you weren’t but you wished you were’ you whispered, watching him recall that moment in his head but thankfully he was still smiling softly. ‘That you loved us and that it hurt knowing I was your person but I didn’t see it’

‘I see’

‘That’s not when I realised my feelings had changed though’ you confirmed and you noticed his brows furrow in confusion.

‘When was it?’

‘When you stayed with us that week before you moved into your house and you told me I had to share you with Gee‘ you laughed. ‘It just slapped me in the face that I don’t want to share you with anyone. And then her second birthday party you were just perfect and it made me feel all this new things for you that I never had’

‘That was over a year ago, love. Why the change of heart? Why tell me now?’ He asked quietly and you could tell he was in a completely different headspace to earlier.

‘Cause you were right’ you wept, using your free hand to dry your eyes so you could carry on talking sensibly but you were finding it hard to hold it together. ‘I didn’t like the thought of you going on a date the other night and I almost called you the morning after thinking you were still with her in hopes I could ruin it but Ell stopped me. I know how it sounds, I know. But it’s not me messing you around or keeping you wrapped around my finger. I’ve just had enough of keeping things to myself when I know we could be happy together’

‘I just don’t get why you haven’t said something before. I thought we told each other everything’ he told you sadly and you knew you had to just be open with him.

‘I was scared’

‘Of what, love?’

‘That you’d react like you did’ you laughed and even though he was smiling back you could tell he was still feeling guilty about it all. ‘Plus when you were talking to Gee that one time you told her you’d try to move on and I didn’t want to make an idiot out of myself just in case you had’

‘All you had to do was tell me and I would have been yours from that very second’ he told you matter of factly but you didn’t like the way he was using the past tense.

‘Does that mean you won’t be now?’ You pouted. Eyes full of tears that you’d waited so long to come clean but he just smiled at you softly and pushed the hair out of your eyes so he could see you better.

‘Why do you think I'm here, love?’ He asked quietly but you just shrugged as you looked down to your lap. Tears spilling down your cheeks but he was quick to hook his finger under your chin and make you look at him again. ‘I think about you, and what we could have, every fucking day’ he whispered. ‘I’ve loved you since we were kids, that’s not something I can just throw away and move on from’

‘I know it’s taken me a while to realise it but I love you too, Mase. I really do’ You gulped. ‘I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I’ve never felt how you make me feel before’

‘What do you mean?’ He asked. Trying to contain his smile at the fact you’d just told him you loved him but he needed more from you clearly.

‘When Jack left me… well I’d never felt so ugly in my whole life. I hated everything about myself you know, like no matter what I did I was never enough’ you told him. ‘But you’ve always made me feel beautiful’

‘That’s cause you were. You are beautiful, y/n. So so fucking beautiful’ he whispered as he pulled you further into his lap and you were so close now your noses were touching as you spoke.

‘I think there’s this part of me that’s felt like I’ve never deserved you. You’re you, you know? And I’m a mess. A single mum who’s just about getting by like what do I have to offer you?’

‘Don’t ever say that again’ he whispered. Cutting you off as he cupped your jaw and stroked your cheeky softly. ‘You deserve whoever you want and whoever makes you happy. And I know I will do everything I can every single day to make you happy’

‘I know you will, you already do. This last year has driven me insane’ you laughed. ‘I don’t know how you’ve done it for so many years’

‘Well they say If you love someone you set them free. And if it’s meant to be you’ll find your way back to each other. We always find our way back no matter what happens right? That's got to count for something’ he told you and before you knew it the ghost of your favourite cheeky smile was adorning his lips. ‘You try and put 240 miles between us and i will hunt you down’

‘Well when you say that…’ you laughed, trying to pull away from him as a joke but he was having none of it. Pulling you in even closer so he could kiss your cheek and the feel of his lips on your hot skin made you shiver.

‘I really am sorry for earlier, I didn’t mean to go off like I did. I think I was just in panic mode and it’s been hard on me too. Like coming here and getting to play house with you sometimes but knowing I’d never get that happy ending was a lot but I still did it cause I’d take what I can get with you’ he confessed quietly. ‘That still doesn’t make it right though’

‘It’s okay, a lot of what you said earlier made sense but I need you to know I didn’t fall for you just because you’re good with Gee I promise’ you told him. ‘Even though you’ve stepped up and basically been her father figure without me asking you too. You know I’ll always be thankful for that’

‘Well I love the pair of you more than anything. And I get why me having a good relationship with Gee is so important to you’

‘It’s hard, being a mum and wanting to do right by your kids whilst also trying to have a bit of happiness for yourself’ you sniffed, not having spoken to him about this topic before but since you both seemed to be getting stuff off your chests you figured you’d go for it. Letting him wrap you up close to his chest so you could take in a breath of his relaxing scent before you continued. ‘Gee’s always been a big factor as to why I’ve held back with relationships cause as much as I want someone for myself, she’s my whole life, you know? She’s part of me and I’d never forgive myself for bringing someone into our bubble that could hurt us. So yeah, your relationship with Gee is huge for me cause I don't have to worry about that. You said it yourself earlier she’s basically yours and I don’t think I’ll every trust another man with her like I trust you with her’

‘And I promise you, you’ll never have to even think about trusting someone else okay? You guys are my family. Always have been always will be’ he told you softly and you had to pull back again to look at him as you missed his face already.

‘I’m sorry too though, for keeping it from you, and for comparing you to Jack a lot. I didn’t realise I was even doing it but now I do and I need you to know you’re nothing like him’ you told him tearily and you could see it all over his face how much that meant to him.

‘Thank you’ he whispered, tears still flowing down your cheeks that he gently wiped away and you could see from the frown on his face he didn’t like that you were so upset still. ‘Hey come on, please stop crying baby’ he whispered, the pet name making you smile wider than you had all evening as your tummy swarmed with butterflies. ‘I can’t kiss you again if you keep crying, and I really wanna kiss you right now’

‘You can still kiss me’ you chuckled. Letting him help wipe your cheeks so you didn’t look so upset and when he cupped your jaw you felt your heart flutter at what was about to happen.

If he was as nervous as you then he didn’t show it too much as he tipped your face up towards his. A small smile on his lips as his eyes flashed downward but you could see his pupils had dilated whilst his breathing had deepened but you couldn’t look for too much longer. Shutting your eyes just before his lips touched yours and you felt every nerve ending in your body sing. Your mind foggy as he carefully brushed his lips against yours but you felt whole for the first time in a long time.

‘I’ve waited ten years for that kiss’ he whispered. Lips ghosting yours as he peppered kisses to the corner of your mouth and back and you couldn’t stop giggling before he captured your lips once more.

‘Sorry it took so long’

‘Don’t be. I’d wait another ten, you know that right?’

‘I can’t believe I’ve been so blind this whole time’ you sniffed. Resting your hands on his chest as another wave of guilt hit you. ‘I’ve been so in my head about Jack and then trying to look after Gee and then the move. It’s like all I’ve been doing is trying to keep my head above the water but now I feel like I can take a breath and my visions cleared and you’ve been standing right under my nose this whole time’ you breathed, feeling him pull you closer into his body. ‘I’ve never told you enough how much I love you, like even just as friends. I know I was never great to you over the years and I’m just so sorry for how I’ve acted and how I’ve made you feel all this time. Kinda makes me wonder why you even still like me’ you giggled but just smiled as he rubbed his nose against yours.

‘Cause I don’t just like you, I’m in love with you. Good days, bad days and everything in between. Yes it’s been rough but even if I knew it would hurt as much as it has sometimes I would have still loved you like I do now’ he whispered. Tears springing to your eyes again but you were determined to keep them inside. ‘But I understand, my minds kinda blown and I don’t really get any of this either like when I woke up this morning this wasn’t on my bingo card’

‘Well I’ve been thinking about you for a while and Ell told me I had to be honest with you’

‘Yeah? What have you been thinking?’ He asked, clearly wanting to tease you even more and the prospect of saying divulging even more made you blush furiously as you tried to stutter out a response but he was quick to kiss your cheek and squeeze your sides. ‘You can just say you fancy me, it’s okay’

‘You’re unbelievable’ you laughed. Not being sure if you wanted to pull away or nuzzle in closer but you went for the latter in the end. Wrapping your arms around his neck to you could hold each other and you could feel yourself melting in his arms.

‘And you’re tired’ he whispered into your neck, making you laugh at the way he could read you so well. This whole evening had been exhausting but there was still so much you wanted to ask him. ‘Do you wanna head to bed?’

‘Only if you’re coming with me’

‘Of course’ he whispered, squeezing you tightly for a moment before pulling away and helping you to stand. ‘We can talk some more up there I just wanna be comfy’

You both got ready for bed fairly quickly and Mason was under the covers before you meaning he could warm it all up just as you liked. You’d shared a bed with Mason a few times over the years but this felt different, every other time he’d been basically fully clothed but this time he was just in his boxers and your mouth was watering at the view of his chest. He could tell you were a little bit nervous so he pulled the covers back and tucked you into his side just like normal. Your cheeks flaming as he held your jaw and kissed you again gently but your mind was still reeling with questions.

‘Can I ask you something, cause I feel like you never told me’ you asked as you pulled away from each other.

‘Yeah? Course you can’ he laughed tickling your side gently as you got settled on his chest, his skin warm against your own and after you’d nuzzled yourself into him a bit you were looking up at him with a smile.

‘Why did you pick United?’ You asked and you saw his cheeks redden a touch like he knew why you were asking.

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘I’m just curious. There’s so many other clubs that were in for you’ you shrugged before settling your head back down but you noticed his heart rate had picked up slightly.

‘Why do you think I chose here?’

‘I don’t know’ you shrugged. Hoping if you played dumb and not accuse him he’d come out and tell you.

‘I mean I picked here cause I thought it would be the best fit for me but I can’t lie and say the thought of being closer to you wasn’t at the forefront of my mind’ he confessed quietly. Confirming what you sort of had always suspected and rather than scare him off you kept your head down and traced patterns on his chest gently to see if he’d elaborate.

‘Yeah?’

‘When you first told me you were moving, I was so crushed. I thought that was it, you know? Any shot of us ever being more than friends was gone but not even just that. You were so far away it’s like I wouldn’t know if you’re safe or not and it tore me apart that I couldn't protect you anymore. Especially you being up here when Gee was so little. So yeah, you being here made have made it on the list of pros for signing here’

‘It’s your life, mase. I would have never expected to be on your list for something that big’

‘You forget, you are my life. You and pickle are everything to me like even after you told me you didn’t want this I’ve still never been able to let you go. And maybe that sounds a bit pathetic but I just always knew deep down we’d get there one day’

‘Well here we are’ you laughed.

‘Here we are’ he smiled. Kissing your forehead gently before looking down at you with a coy smile. ‘Anything else I need to confess to? Come on, out with it’ he laughed, knowing you and more to say and you figured since he was on a roll you may as well ask no matter how insane you seemed.

‘When you said you date… like how often are we talking?’ You laughed. ‘Cause I had no idea no idea, you’ve never mentioned anything before so it was a bit of a shock’

‘I mean it wasn’t often, every now and then. I’m not all that good at dating I’d don’t think, seemed to just compare everyone to you’ he laughed, rolling his eyes a little bit. ‘But after you moved up here I was with someone for a few months’ he confessed and even thought it was over quite clearly you still felt a weird sinking feeling in your tummy.

‘Oh? Was it serious?’ You asked carefully but he just shrugged.

‘Could have been. But then I had to move and she wasn’t up for long distance so we decided to leave it. I think she kinda knew my feelings towards you too so that probably didn’t help but since moving up I’ve only been on like two dates including last weeks’

‘Does that make me your third time lucky’ you smiled. Your fingers gently tracing his ribs as he smiled back down at you and you couldn’t help but reach up to peck his lips gently.

‘No way, you’ve always been my number one’

‘Is that why you didn’t tell me?’

‘Sort of, I guess I was just holding out hope that you’d come round one day and I didn’t want you thinking I’d moved on from you even if you didn’t care that I had at the time. I didn’t even really want to tell you about last weeks but you’d figured it out and I couldn’t lie. I hope that doesn’t make you feel any differently about me’

‘Not at all. You’re a human Mase, and I wouldn’t expect you to wait for me if I was giving you nothing back. You don’t have to worry about that anymore though cause I wanna give you everything’

‘Oh yeah’ he grinned. His eyebrows wiggling suggestively but you just rolled your eyes as you tapped his chest.

‘Yeah. Like I fell for you because of how I feel when I’m with you and I wanna reciprocate that, you know? I want you to feel all the love you make me feel every single day’

‘I feel it, always have done’ he whispered but all you knew was that you wanted to give home more.

‘Well then buckle up cause you’re about to be overwhelmed’ you laughed. Cupping his jaw and kissing him again but this time he didn’t let you go. Chasing your lips when you went to pull away but it was his hand that was on your lower back that was begging to explore your skin that made your heart race even faster. Gasping into his mouth as he gave your bum a cheeky squeeze and you both pulled away breathless before anyone took things any further.

‘I can’t believe I get to kiss you now. 15 year old me is losing his mind’ he chuckled, pecking your cheek as you both got your breath back. ‘If you wanna be my third time lucky you’re gonna have to let me take you out on a date then’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, of course. How about this, Lew is coming up next week so he can make a start on some Christmas stuff, why don’t I ask if he can have Gee for an evening and I’ll take you out. I’ve been planing this in my head for years so all you need to do is turn up’

‘Yeah?’ You laughed, loving the excited expression on his face but you were just as excited to get to experience whatever he was dreaming up for the pair of you.

‘As long as you don’t spit pasta in my eye’ he winked and you knew that was a promise you could most definitely keep.

🤍Four Years Later🤍

‘Gee! You ready to go baby?’ You called, standing by the door with her bag and everyone else’s belongings.

‘Coming!’ She shouted. Her footsteps bounding down the stairs suddenly and as you looked to your left, she was running up besides you with a big smile on her face.

‘I’m gonna put all your stuff in the car, okay pickle?.’

‘Where’s daddy?’ She questioned, not wanting to leave without him clearly but you just smiled and stroked the top of her head.

‘He’s coming baby, don’t worry’ you reassured her and she gave you a quick nod to let you know she understood.

‘Right that’s all locked up out back, just need to do the front. We ready?’ Mason smiled, rounding the corner from the kitchen before his eyes were on you. A cheeky and excited look on his face as he wrapped his arms around your waist and even though you two were excited, you were full of nerves at what you were about to do. ‘You okay love?’

‘I’m nervous’ you giggled. ‘I can’t believe we’re finally going’

‘I always promised we would, didn’t I?’

‘You did’ you whispered smiling up at him before he dropped a soft kiss to your lips.

‘Which one are you taking?’ Mason asked. Looking over to Gee who had a protective hand on the handle of the car seat which made your heart thump in your chest.

‘You take Gee and lock up, I’ll get Leo in the car’ you smiled and with another quick kiss to your lips Mason had picked gee up and was stuffing her into a hoodie so she wasn’t cold.

‘Come on little man, let’s get you all strapped in, yeah?’ You cooed. Watching Leo giggle as you tickled his tummy.

Leo was around 10 months old now and he was the apple of Masons eye. You still remember the look on Masons face when you told him you were expecting and even though it was a bit of a shock, it was something the pair of you had spoken about often and you knew he was waiting to hopefully give Gee a sibling.

When you’d first booked this trip, the pair of you had no idea about Leo even existing. His arrival making you question if you should postpone the trip you’d always dreamed of but Gee was already excited and with Leo being such a calm little guy you figured you should just go for it and finally live your dream.

‘Hey mate, you all ready to go?’ Mason asked him sweetly. Coming up behind you as you’d finally got him sat in the car all strapped in and that was all it took for Leo to send him a bright gummy smile. He was such a happy baby but he always reserved his biggest smiles for his daddy.

‘Daddy! Come on!’ Gee suddenly called from the seat in the back next to Leo. Clearly getting frustrated you hadn’t left yet but Mason just playfully rolled his eyes as he smiled down at you.

‘She gets that from you, you know’ he winked. Dropping a heavy kiss on your lips before bending down to talk to Gee. ‘Oi you, I’ll throw you with the lions when we get there if you’re not careful’ he teased but Gee was giggling soon after as he began to hype her up about the trip and get her excited, behaving like he was your third child.

‘Come on, we best head off’ you laughed. Pulling his arm so he’d look at you and the smile on his face made your heart flutter. ‘You sure you got everything?’

‘Got all my people, that’s all I need’ he beamed. Cupping your jaw and kissing you deeply to the point you knees went weak.

‘I can’t believe we're actually doing this, it’s like my biggest dreams coming true. I know I’ve said it a million times but thank you. I love you so much, dimples’ you smiled and it was worth it to watch the blush creep over his cheeks like always when you called him that.

‘I love you, too’ he whispered. Squeezing your sides softly as he kissed you again. ‘But what have I told you about calling me dimples?’

‘Doesn’t matter what you say, your face says it all’ you whispered. Knowing how much he complained about the nickname you’d given him shortly after you’d finally gotten together, but you just didn’t believe him. Watching the way he’d turn into a blushy mess each time told you he secretly loved it and you loved making Mason feel good. ‘Come on then, before Gee loses the plot’

‘Your chariot awaits Mrs Mount’

‘Easy, I’m not Mrs Mount yet’ you laughed, tapping his chest and even though it was something you’d spoken about, Mason was yet to pop the question.

‘It’s only a matter of time’ he whispered. Kissing your head before he let you go and get in the car but it was only when you were out of sight that he checked his pocket for a very important piece of cargo. The small black box felt huge between his fingers but he couldn’t think of a more perfect time for him to ask the girl of his dreams to be his wife than on the trip of her dreams with their two babies in tow. Finally getting to be the family the both of you had always dreamed of.

y/n

liked by masonmount, ell_197, lukeshaw23 and others

y/n wild and free… but not for long 😌 it’s always been a dream of mine to come here but i never imagined just how special it could be. The easiest yes I’ve ever had to say 🤍

masonmount the easiest question I’ve ever had to ask 😏 I love our little family so much ❤️

y/n I love you more, dimples 🥰

masonmount 🙄

ell_197 it’s about damn time guys!!! So so excited for you, congratulations 🥳 🩷 I knew this trip would be special for you girly but who knew just how much 🥺

masonmount yeah I’ve left it a little late huh 😂

y/n he’s lucky he’s cute 🤭 can’t wait to start planning with you Ell! 🩷

lukeshaw23 he finally did it huh 😂 he’s been talking to me about it for months. Thank you for saying yes so he doesn’t have to come and live with me!

y/n why do I feel like you’re saying this because you actually want thank you happen 😂

Mummy_y/n oh I’m over the moon. I remember watching you two growing up and knowing you’d be in each other lives for a very long time. So glad you’ve found your soulmate baby girl 🩷

y/n Mumma 🥺 he’s been here this whole time I’m just glad I finally saw 😭

Tag list - @saltyheartnightmare @harvestmount @prideofpd @sid-vii @carlottawllms @footiehoemcfc @katharinanadiaa @whenelifallsinlove @neverinadream @cityzenchick @msnmnt @stikkibun @masonmtxo @chillymountsjess @yoursselo @maseymm @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @leclerc13

[shecriestotheclickingoftime]

it'll be ok

patrick x reader, 11.2k words

(basically, this fic is what happens when you let a songwriter have an unlimited word count with no narrative skills but a lot of feelings...)

this is a long one, and an intense one, and the plot is kind of convoluted and a mess and a lot of and im ngl reader is very specific and also very mentally ill and struggling the whole time (and is also def a flawed character but pls go easy on her)

an insanely angsty, moody, sad, but hopeful ending Patrick Zweig x reader fic (with a lot lot lot of Art Donaldson mentions though, like he is a main character just not a romantic interest)

set during Stanford era, reader goes to Stanford with Art

TWs: quite a bit of drinking, vomiting at one point from drinking, a lot of mental illness is present here ngl, reader has a really bad relationship with family (but there are not too many specifics), and some moments where reader cannot eat or sleep because of anxiety!

Freshman year of college was hard. You’d been so excited to finally get away from your family, and attend Stanford, but the adjustment was hard. You’d already been there a couple months, and you’d made friends, your closest one being Art Donaldson, a tennis player who just kind of… popped up in your Psychology 101 class, and then just stayed in your life.

The second you walked into the massive lecture hall, you knew you had messed up signing up for an introductory science class. You were an English major, this class wasn’t even required for you, but for some reason, you were here. You scanned the room, trying to not look as nervous as you were, and sat down in an empty seat. The class still didn’t start for a few minutes, and students were still filing in, getting set up for class. As the lecture hall started to get more full, you looked back down at your notes, trying to get everything ready for today. There were still a fair amount of empty seats left, so it took you by surprise when a blonde, athletic-looking boy came and sat down a seat away from you. He smiled at you, and you smiled back, and he introduced himself as Art Donaldson. You nodded and looked away, trying to look disinterested, but for some reason, this kid was hell bent on getting to know you. 

Eventually, you reluctantly decided to give him a chance. As much as the alarm bells in your mind went off, reminding you that it was definitely a bad idea to let yourself get socially involved, something about Art completely disarmed you. Though you tried your hardest to resist getting attached, especially to a guy, Art did everything he could to be a stable figure in your life, and for some reason, he cared about you. He didn’t mind your quiet, sharp exterior that you guarded yourself with; it seemed like he cared about you more because of it- from the first time you two met, it felt like he saw straight through you in a way that no one else ever had, like somehow he already knew you the first time you two met. 

You did everything you could to protect yourself, keeping your struggles and emotions to yourself, like you had been taught to. The hardest part about Stanford was being away from your family. All you had ever wanted was to be away from them, away from their mistreatment, but even after everything they had put you through, you couldn’t help but miss them. You missed your parents, as much as you didn’t want to, and you felt so alone without your family. You didn’t want to be alone, but you knew you couldn’t go home either. You just felt so alone. 

The only thing that felt worse to you than being completely alone, was actually trusting someone and then being left. But despite your resistance, you slowly found yourself starting to trust Art. At first, you tried everything you could to push Art away more. But every time he saw right through you, so you tried to be icier and more distant, so you could get him away before he even got the chance to hurt you. But Art had this careful kind of persistence, somehow not really minding that you pushed him away- He wasn’t trying to sneak closer to you, or get you to let him in, he just wanted to be there, wherever you were comfortable with. And as independent as you tried to be, you had to admit that maybe sometimes it was good to have a friend. 

You revolved your life around school. But nothing you did could help the loneliness that had been tearing you apart from the inside since you were a young teen. You were haunted by the thoughts that no one could understand, or care, and even if they did you knew that no one ever stayed. You were too much for anyone to handle. So you had no choice but to let the loneliness fester, and to just hide the pain from everyone else. But the emotions hurt more than words could describe- so you looked for distractions. So you studied. Obsessively. And your first midterm season was no exception- you put so much pressure on yourself that on the nights before your tests you couldn’t sleep or eat, your anxiety making you feel so restless and sick that you physically couldn’t do anything besides just studying and spiraling. 

–

It was not an exaggeration to say that by Friday night, you felt like death. After finishing your last midterm, you felt beyond empty. Your test adrenaline that had kept you going the past few days had suddenly worn off, and the consequences of your own actions had finally started to catch up to you. And without studying and anxiety to obsess over, you could no longer avoid your chronic loneliness. You were tired, and hungry, and completely alone. 

So when Art Donaldson showed up at your door to invite you to the frat party tonight, and added that his best friend was in town and he wanted us to meet, you knew it was a terrible idea, and you should definitely not drink in this condition.

So naturally, you agreed. 

You’d heard about his best friend Patrick Zweig before, and to be honest, he seemed like a cocky, self-centered idiot. But Art was insistent on introducing you two. You didn’t have much interest in meeting him, (but to be fair, you didn’t have much interest in meeting anyone right now). But, when Art asked you to just give him a chance, you couldn’t say no. 

So, in your zombie state and all, you went to a fucking fraternity party. Completely out of any energy, you poured yourself a strong drink, downed it, and repeated. And repeated. And repeated until losing count. 

And there you were, severely sleep deprived, practically hallucinating, and already wasted. 

And that’s when you met Patrick fucking Zweig for the first time. 

Even drunk, you could tell at first glance that Patrick was a player, just based on his cocky demeanor (and the fact that he was tall and hot. like, what girl wouldn’t want him?) So, you gave him a tight-lipped smile, closing your walls again before you’d let some womanizer guy take advantage of you.

Why had Art wanted you to meet him anyways? This guy seemed completely incompatible with you, and to be honest, you were surprised that he would be such close friends with sweet, gentle Art. So, you introduced yourself quickly, slipped out of the corner you’d been hiding in for the past half hour of this party, downed your way-too-strong drink, and went to go make another one. Now that midterms were over, you couldn’t use your obsessive studying to distract you from your family and loneliness, so getting fucking wasted seemed distracting enough. 

But of course, Art had to notice. And he had to get worried about you, making sure to stay close and keep you in his eyeline. He’d noticed your sadness, and having seen Patrick go through the same complicated family feelings throughout his years at Mark Rebellato’s, he could tell enough of what was going on. 

He was initially drawn to you because he saw Patrick in you. However, instead of shutting people out by acting overly confident and social like Patrick, Art watched you shut yourself away. And even though he had only known you for a couple months, he couldn’t help but care about you, recognizing Patrick’s sadness in you. 

So, when he saw you drinking so much at the party, he knew you were just coping with loneliness. He’d seen Patrick numb himself with drinks enough time in high school, trying to fill the emptiness with liquor and meaningless flings with the girls around him, trying to escape the desperate need to feel cared about and loved. Art knew Patrick like the back of his hand, and he knew that you two were scarily similar. 

As you got drunker, you migrated back to standing near Art, who was practically attached at the hip to Patrick, and you somehow end up rambling about the English paper you just finished. As douchey as Patrick seemed, something about his demeanor seemed gentle towards you, nodding and smiling softly, actually listening to you as you sipped drink after drink and had pointless conversations with Art. You tried to avoid his eye contact and ignore him- you hated to admit it, but he was good at being charming, and even after drinking this much, you still knew that you couldn’t let yourself fall for that. You’d already been dumb letting Art in so much, and you were still scared by how much you trusted him, and so there was no way you were going to let yourself develop some delusional crush on his douchey best friend. So you tried to ignore how tall he was, and how he towered over you, and how he somehow seemed actually interested in your idiotic drunken ramblings. You wouldn’t fall for his tricks.

You were incoherently drunk. And meeting Patrick fucking Zweig at the same time. You weren’t one to lose control, you wanted to tell him and Art, but at this point it didn’t even matter anymore. Because now, here you were, stumbling over your words and pouring all of your thoughts out before you could even stop to think about how embarrassing this was. It couldn’t get any worse than this. 

Actually, you soon learned that it could get worse. Finally, the countless drinks that had been churning around your stomach finally started to catch up with you, and you could tell that you were absolutely going to be sick. You tried to excuse yourself quickly from the boys, stumbling through the crowd outside as quickly as you could, just trying to reach the fresh air outside and hoping that it could refresh your senses. But of course, your escape plan was useless, because Art and Patrick trailed worriedly behind you. And as they followed you out, you prayed to forget all of this tomorrow.

You breathed in the cool, smoky air, wishing to vanish or something, anything to get out of what you knew was bound to happen.“I think I need to go back to my dorm,” you blurted out, turning around to face the boys, and slowly backing away, trying to conceal your wobbly steps, praying that they leave you alone before you got sick. 

But of course, you wouldn’t escape that easily. 

“Hey, let us walk you back,” Patrick said gently, stepping carefully towards you.

“Yeah, it’s really late, and my building is near yours anyways,” Art followed up, offering a comforting smile.

Even in your drunkenness, you could already tell that the two were worried and definitely wouldn’t be letting you walk home alone this late. And as much as you didn’t want them to see you like this, you didn’t trust your ability to get back home right now. So, you gave up on getting them to leave, and you finally nodded, letting them catch up to you as you accepted your fate of possibly having the worst first impression in the history of ever. 

You’d barely walked for 2 minutes when the inevitable feeling hit you… you were gonna throw up. 

So, this was how you introduced yourself to Patrick Zweig. Instead of hiding behind your cold, quiet demeanor that you tried to maintain, you ended up getting embarrassingly drunk, and now fucking throwing up. You scolded yourself in your head, trying to breathe slowly and calm the sickness, but the ground felt like it was spinning and you lost control. You quickly made yourself stumble towards some bushes as you vomited. (sorry guys i know this is gross but it's part of the plot </3)

You tried to conceal your face from Art and Patrick as much as you possibly could, not wanting them to get grossed out by your display (if you could call it that)- although there wasn’t really a way to hide when they’re standing next to you. Nonetheless, you tried, wishing to yourself that they would somehow forget about this, and just leave you alone to die in the bushes out of pure embarrassment. 

You continued to be sick, and everything just hurt at this point. But you suddenly felt a large, calloused hand gently lowering onto your back and rubbing soothing circles along your spine, as another hand gently brushed your hair away from your face, holding it back with a soft hold. Even in your dizzy state, you could tell that it wasn’t Art doing that- Art’s hands were always smooth and, like, way too well kept and soft for a college athlete. So, this must’ve been… Patrick?

God, this is your first impression? Throwing up at a fucking frat party? With him holding back my hair?

You can’t even tell how long you were standing there, throwing up into the damn Stanford bushes. But you do remember Patrick’s gentle touch never leaving your back or your face, as he whispered little “you’re ok”s into the night air as he comforted you. 

After you got back up, the rest of the night passed by in a dizzying blur, your vision making everything around you look like a stop-motion movie. You could feel your drunken memories as they evaded your mind and disappeared from consciousness just as quickly as they happened. You generally remember the idea of walking back to your dorm, trying to accept what just happened. You briefly remember Art and Patrick still walking with you after that, Patrick arm floating around your waist, as he tried to keep you steady. Both Art and Patrick seemed completely unfazed, and even understanding of you, like they had experienced this a million times before. 

The boys walked you all the way back up to right outside of your dorm door, making sure that you got all the way back home safe and intact. You whispered a feeble sorry and good night to them as you slipped back into your room, shutting the door and not even bothering to turn on the lights, letting yourself fall into your dorm’s shitty little twin bed. To be honest, you kind of knocked out after that, escaping from the chaos of the night and letting everything go black 

The next morning, you woke up with the golden San Francisco sun peeking through the half-open blinds on the windows. Despite not remembering falling asleep the night before, you could tell that you had knocked out cold soon after you got back to your room, seeing that you had fallen asleep outside of the covers and still in your party clothes and makeup… and even your shoes were on, damn. 

And, of course, you woke up with a headache. And a stomachache. And so tired, and so thirsty. But the pain in your body felt almost nonexistent compared to the horror that completely washed over you as the memories of the night before flooded back… at least enough of them to remember meeting Patrick, who was way too tall and cute to be embarrassing yourself in front of, as you recalled talking, and talking, and talking, and drinking, and talking, and then… throwing up. And then walking home. 

God, not only did you embarrass yourself in front of Art’s best friend, but you also did that in front of Art… your closest friend at Stanford… and god, he probably was disgusted by you and never wanted to see you again. 

At least, that’s what your mind told you, as you could help but feel nauseous again as the last night played back in your head. That’s what you get for going out right after skipping so many nights of sleep and proper meals because of midterms stress… God, you were dumb. Why did you listen to Art, and why did you agree to meet his best friend?

You still didn’t fully understand why Art had been so insistent on you meeting this Patrick guy, anyways. Did he want to set you up with a douchebag player? Like, what was the point?

Your mind flashed back to the feeling of his hand on your back, gently holding you while you were sick, and his careful, almost nervous hand floating around your waist, stabilizing you as you walked back to the dorm. That was Patrick, not even Art. And something about his featherlight touch and sweet silence made you feel like he understood you, and somehow he knew how you were feeling, even though you had never met before.

You shook the thought off, figuring that it was just your drunken mind making up this feeling between you. He was probably just giving you that smug smile that he flashed at you when you first met, and you perceived it as something gentle and kind in your pathetic loneliness. Ugh, you felt dumb. Your shame of the past night felt like a weight tied to your ankles, keeping you imprisoned in your dorm room. You didn’t want to see Art anytime soon, your mind crowded with thoughts about how he probably thinks you’re so dumb at this point, and he wouldn’t want to care about you anymore after seeing how you acted. (And to be fair, your thoughts were definitely irrational and untrue, but the Sunday (or technically Saturday) scaries can seriously be haunting sometimes).

Oh, and you could definitely never face that Patrick guy again. He doesn’t even go to Stanford, so if you can avoid Art enough, then you’d probably never have to see him again anyways. Hopefully.

But… you could almost still feel his hand on your back, rubbing circles, taking care of you while you were sick, and it just felt so… affectionate. No one had comforted you like that in a long time… Even at home, when you got sick, you’d lock the bathroom door and turn the faucet up to drown out any noise you’d make, so you didn’t “burden” your family with your illness. You took care of yourself. Like you always did, and you always would. But in that moment, even just recalling the hazy, embarrassing memory, you could still feel that safety and care from him… 

You snapped yourself out of this mental spiral- God, you were delusional. And probably also eternally pathetically lonely. 

And you were most definitely not leaving your dorm room for the rest of the weekend. 

–

You spent the rest of the weekend hiding in your dorm, feeling like fucking Dracula not being able to bear the outside light. You tried to push down your shame, blaming the hangover for your anxiety, but you still decided that distancing yourself from Art would be the right thing to do. There is no way you could let yourself be that vulnerable with a guy, especially since you couldn’t stop thinking about Patrick, and how he took care of you. And maybe this was a strange thing to ruminate on so much, but something about it felt so personal. It’s like something is pushing you towards him, that you have no control over, making you want to just be near him again. 

God, you were pining. For Patrick Zweig? You were getting attached to a guy you had met for one damn drunken night. Fuck you, Art, for introducing you to Patrick. You were fucked. And spiraling. 

– 

After a successful weekend of avoiding the world, you finally had to leave your room again. You had classes to go to. You took a long shower, composed youself, and got ready to get back out in the world- there was no way you were gonna let a dumb embarrassing moment in front of fucking Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig interfere with your academics. And besides, you needed to distract yourself, and filling the void of loneliness with countless tasks and books to read sounded perfectly fine. 

You saw that Art had texted you that Sunday morning asking how you were. And you ignored it. And of course, he had to text again on Tuesday, asking if you wanted to grab coffee before Psychology lecture like the two of you usually did. Like everything was normal or something. 

And again, you didn’t respond. And then you skipped your Psych class. You emailed an apology to the professor, and watched over the class recording he sent you, taking notes on it. But there was no way you could face Art Donaldson yet. 

Your avoidance of him almost got irrational- you knew you were blowing things out of proportion, but you were so scared that if you got close to Art again, you’d see Patrick again, and… you couldn’t do that. You made a commitment to yourself- from now on, you definitely fucking hated Patrick Zweig. You didn't need to justify yourself with a reason why. You just needed to hate him.

–

Avoiding Art got more and more difficult as the weeks went by- you skipped another Psych class and practically snuck around campus to go to your classes, paranoid that he would see you around. So you broke, and decided to talk to him. Well, not really talk to him about your 2-week avoidance. He didn’t have to know what was going on with you. So, you came up with the most bullshit excuse you could. You claimed you’d been sick, and coincidentally also your phone had been broken, and that’s why he didn’t see you and you also didn’t text him at all. Pneumonia was really going around this year, right? 

Somehow, you actually showed up to your next Psych class. You sat on the opposite side of the row as Art, burying your face in a novel and pretending to not even notice anyone around you, not even him. You stared at your notebook for the entirety of the lecture, obsessing over your notes that were definitely way too detailed, and made sure not to look over at Art. He couldn’t be mad at you if you simply just didn’t see him, right? And as soon as class ended, you dove back into your novel, not even looking up on your walk out.

You knew you were acting irrationally. But you’d been acting like this for so long that you knew you’d dug yourself into a hole with Art, and there was no use trying to crawl out and explain yourself. So you just let it continue. 

– 

However, your seemingly flawless avoidance plan (predictably) didn’t last very long. It only really ended up lasting until that same weekend, when of course, you had to cross paths with Art Donaldson on your walk back from your favorite, cute little bookstore. You had almost made it back to your dorm without bumping into anyone, and you almost forgot about all of your anxieties- 

Until you looked up and found yourself looking straight into Art Donaldson’s eyes, as he walked the opposite way as you, your eyes widening at the sight of him in his tennis uniform, with his giant racket bag slung over his shoulder. You instantly remembered: he always leaves for his Saturday tennis practices at this time. Fuck, you shoud’ve known not to be here at this time, but you just wanted to go to the bookstore so much that you had to forget literally everything else. 

So, here you were, face to face with Art Donaldson, after ghosting him completely for over two weeks, because… you threw up in front of him at a party. You stopped walking as you approached him, guilt flooding your mind as you realized that you had completely shut him out for… god, almost three weeks today. 

“Hey”, he said as he approached you, his voice soft, almost like he was testing the waters, as you froze in place, unable to look away from his eyes. “Where have you been? I haven’t heard from you since… like the day after midterms. You said you got pneumonia? And your phone broke?”

Your face flushed in embarrassment as you tried not to visibly cringe at how illogical your actions and excuses sounded in his words. 

“God, Art, I fucked up,” you blurted out, unable to filter yourself… and now that you’ve started talking, you knew you couldn’t stop… “I’m so sorry, Art” you said, trying to breathe and compose yourself, the shame for your actions threatening to swallow you whole. “I… Ok, I’ll just be honest. I felt so embarrassed after getting so drunk at that stupid frat party, that I started avoiding you, and then I guess I… Once I started, I couldn’t then go up to you and talk to you, so I let myself dig further and further into this hole and it just felt too bad to climb out and… Well, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I should have texted, and you did nothing wrong, I just was embarrassed-” You stopped yourself from rambling further, forcing yourself to take a breath and let Art respond. You looked down, as if you were trying to gaze straight though your shows and into the ground, as you braced yourself for the worst- you had been told a million times by people around you that you were too much to handle, so you pushed away and broke every relationship, and you knew that you had just done that again. And now you talked way too much, and he

“Listen… I get it” Art almost whispered- and when you looked up, you were met by a sympathetic smile and a worried stare that looked like it could read your mind. “I know how stressed you were because of midterms, and it definitely wasn’t a good idea for me to drag you out to a party right after we took them- and I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you by also introducing you to Patrick too, I know that he can be… a lot. And I’m not mad at you. But next time, just let me know if you’re not doing well. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, just… be in contact.”

You were almost taken aback by his words- you were expecting Art to give you icy stares and bring out words so sharp that they pierced straight through your skin, and you felt like you would have deserved it. But he actually thought about you, and apologized? You stood there for a moment, your mind still processing his response and unable to form words, when he spoke again, this time softer and more nervous:

“Just… try meeting Patrick one more time? You don’t have to anytime soon, but at some point, just get to know him a little. And then you can never talk to him again, but… this is important” he insisted, his tone anxious and almost a little awkward. He offered a comforting smile, still noticing some fear lingering in your eyes after the entire conversation. 

– 

Looking into your expression, Art’s mind went straight back to the one night in 10th grade at the academy, when he and Patrick had stolen a joint from their young guest tennis instructor’s bag, and decided it would be a great idea to try getting high together for the first time. It started fun, as Art and Patrick settled into a half-conscious recalling of embarrassing childhood memories, laughing at themselves and at old classmates, until they had somehow gone into talking about family memories, when Patrick broke down crying while confessing about how much he didn’t want to go home for the holidays. In the 5 years that Art had known Patrick before that, he never heard him talk like that. The two of them talked for a couple hours, eventually joking around and laughing too hard at everything, like high teenage boys would do, but something in Patrick had melted away- like some barrier that he had held up for so long that neither Patrick not Art even fully realized it was there the whole time- and Art suddenly saw a glimpse past Patrick’s self-centered persona, and say what was behind his loud words and bold actions. 

But, by the time Art woke up the next day, Patrick had realized how much he exposed himself the night before, and completely shut down. Of course, with this being Patrick, it didn’t last more than a week before he and Art started joking around again- but from then on, Art could see through Patrick’s actions a lot more. And even though Patrick never explicitly mentioned that night again, and he still probably wouldn’t, even years later, he did open up a little more after that: he started calling his parents when Art was in the room, and starting skipping his own family’s events to stay at Art’s grandma’s house during the winter holiday breaks- and although Patrick never showed this side to anyone else, he let Art see it; he had almost memorized the hurt in Patrick’s eyes after rough phone conversations with his parents, the loneliness that Patrick tried to cover up so desperately, and finally could see straight through Patrick’s words, when he pushed people away because he was afraid. And when he met you, despite the fact that you seemed cold and almost kind of mean, Art instantly recognized the distinct kind of sharpness in your voice, and the fear hiding behind your judgey stares. And since then, he couldn’t help but want to take care of you and protect you, the way that he wanted to protect Patrick- but even more than that, he could tell that Patrick would see straight through you too, and soften him up a little. Neither you nor Patrick seemed like the type to admit that you cared, but something about the two of you seemed intertwined, like there was some sort of invisible string between the two of you that was obvious to Art the moment he met you.

–

Stupidly enough, you had actually agreed with Art that you’d meet Patrick again. But maybe not yet. Art understood more than you thought he would, and didn't bother you about it as you warmed back up to a friendship with him. You stopped feeling like you had to sneak around campus and you went back to sitting with Art during Psychology class. And even though things still hurt, the weight that your family had left on your shoulders seemed to slowly get lighter, and you stopped missing home so much. Between Art, your other English major friends, and some kind professors, you have started to feel a bit more independent. However, even as you let yourself let go of home a little more, you could still feel the loneliness gnawing at you- you liked being independent, and you had gotten used to being independent- you had been independent your whole life, figuring out how to cope with things yourself and not letting yourself need anyone. However, even as you became more content with your college life, you still felt a desperate part of you wanting to feel a little cared for and wanted- maybe just someone to understand, to share the hurt sometimes. But you just blame that on your family issues, praying that the empty feeling would eventually fade away- it was better than trying to find someone to fill it, you couldn't let yourself trust anyone to stay. 

But in the meantime, you focused on yourself. At least you tried to. You tried to take care of yourself, you worked hard in classes, and you didn’t force yourself to call back home. You tried to be more social, actually attending some frat parties with your girl friends (and the nights didn’t end terribly for you anymore), but you still strictly maintained a lot of your coldness and quietness- you liked having friends, and you felt like you fit in, but you made sure to lock away any sign of neediness or pure vulnerability- you didn’t want to let your past drag you down, so you shut it out, and shut everyone away from that part of you. And you did a pretty good job- but of course, Art saw right through it. But he didn’t say anything, he just tried to help from the outside as much as he could without overwhelming you. He started bringing over coffee or dinner when he noticed that you were shutting yourself in your room, and quietly helping you out on the simpler things, like helping you out with laundry or helping you out with your desk clutter on the days that it was hard to get things done without some motivation. 

The next few months of the semester floated by, as you learned to balance your schoolwork with the rest of your life, and you buried your sadness deeper inside until it was almost invisible- although you could feel it tearing into you a little more. You felt it when you were alone, and even worse when you were in a group or a crowd, still feeling lost and like despite even being friends with all of the people around you, none of them actually could touch the pain inside of you- and you felt too guilty to tell them, not wanting to place your burdens onto them as well. 

You ended up staying at Stanford for thanksgiving, telling your family the excuse that it was just too far to fly all the way home for less than a week of vacation, and had dinner alone on the floor of your dorm, drinking through a bottle of wine and watching trashy reality tv. You didn’t tell anyone that you did this- you didn’t lie, but you also dodged any conversation about it. Although you told yourself that you loved the cozy nights alone, you couldn’t fully ignore the loneliness ripping you apart further. As much as you tried to cover it up with a quiet and guarded personality, you still found yourself in bed at night replaying the distant, fuzzy memories of Patrick Zweig on that one drunken night- and even though you tried to hate him during the day, you still found yourself curled up on late, anxious nights, letting yourself remember and cling onto a feeling that you felt for less than a second that night, finally allowing yourself just a brief moment to be weak, no longer holding onto your defenses, and for a silent moment letting your mind be cradled by that untouchable, unexplainable feeling that somehow, for some reason, someone had understood you. He understood you, and he saw straight through you, and he still held onto you. 

(But, by the morning, you had already pushed that idea so far back down, that you would have forgotten how real it felt, when you let yourself feel it. But, by the daytime, you were sure again that you were imagining these things about Patrick Zweig, and you allowed the familiar pull of loneliness tearing you apart just a little more, crying for something that didn’t exist. And inside, you kept a secret from yourself- that all of you was hoping for just one more night that you would let yourself be held by the memory again.)

–

You saw Patrick again in passing on the few times he came to visit Art. He always seemed to try and talk with you, despite you brushing him off every time. Once, much to your dismay, he came with you and Art to grab your usual coffees before your lecture together, and Art basically struggled to hold back his laughter at Patrick, whom he had always seen as the charmer who moved on from girls almost instantly, seemingly try his hardest to try and get you to break a little. And while Patrick respected your space, and left you alone when you brushed him off, he seemed like he was longing for some sort of conversation with you.

And the truth is, Art would’ve advised Patrick to fuck off a long time ago after you ignored him for the first time, if you had wanted him to leave… but Art knew you, and based on the way that you always blushed whenever Patrick’s name was brought up, and you always fidgeted with your jewelry and hair anxiously even as you openly ignored Patrick, Art knew you were just pushing him away. Art had seen you do it before, and while he allowed you to push Patrick away over and over again, part of him just loved to see how much Patrick actually let his guard down around you. For the first time in Art’s life, Patrick was really nervous about a girl. So nervous that his cocky, charming alter-ego completely fell when you were there. Because Patrick understood what Art had noticed in you- you were also hurt, and really really persistent in protecting yourself, hiding any vulnerability. And Patrick was the same- but something about you made him ok with showing that he cared. With you there, he couldn’t help it. 

Patrick visited Art a total of 3 times that semester (not that you were counting, definitely not), and for each visit, Patrick tried to approach you at least one time, wanting to really talk to you, but always giving you space whenever you signaled for it. He felt bad being so persistent, constantly trying to understand and follow any rules or boundaries you were setting, but it felt like you were being purposefully vague with him. So, he followed your lead as best he could.

And to be honest, you didn’t even know what you wanted either. Your mind told you that you needed to push him away. But you just couldn’t let him go completely either. But it just couldn’t work out. Everything was confusing, and nothing you could do felt right. You didn’t like him, you couldn’t. You didn’t. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, Art could easily tell that you and Patrick were both way too into each other- but there was just no way to get you to let your guard down in front of Patrick. You seemed terrified to let him care about you, even though Art could tell you had a soft spot for him, and how much you forced yourself to block him out. But every time you told Patrick to leave, he made sure to leave you alone and give you the space you wanted… but you always just ended up looking depressed whenever he left, no longer talking and shutting down even more than when he was there. And by the end of Patrick’s third visit, after you spent the whole time trying to push him away, but you then always stayed around Art’s dorms and tennis practices when Patrick was there. Always near him. Art couldn’t help but notice how you locked yourself in your room for a few days, and looked unusually and consistently sad every time he saw you for at least the next week. 

God, you two were absolutely, undeniably lovesick, and it was getting more obvious in every interaction. 

—

As you neared the last month of your first semester of college, you almost forgot about the yearly Stanford tradition that was inching closer and closer- family weekend. 

Well, actually you didn’t forget at all. How could you, when you got like at least twenty reminder emails in the past week, and saw the flyers for the activities that were planned for all of the students to do with their parents. You were fully aware that family weekend was nearing…

And you just didn’t tell your parents about it. You didn’t have to. And honestly, they were so focused on taking care of your older sister at her school, that they didn’t even keep up with any Stanford news. (and, even if they had seen one of the many emails that were sent, they didn’t mention it, because they ended up making plans to visit your sister over the weekend). And so, you were going to be alone on family weekend. 

You crafted a plan for this weekend nearly identical to the one you had for thanksgiving- ask for a couple bottles of wine from your sorority friends, order a shit ton of food to your dorm, and hide inside and pretend that nothing else exists from Friday to Monday. 

And that was the plan. Sure.

Until Art had a different idea.

“You know, since my grandma’s house is only like an hour away from here, and she’s gone for the weekend, I was just gonna stay there for the weekend. And I have spare bedrooms, and air mattresses in the basement, so like last minute now I’m hosting boys and girls tennis teams, and we’re partying all weekend. I guess a lot of tennis kids don’t care to see their folks this weekend either,” Art grinned at you excitedly, looking a little too excited to explain his plan. “And you know… you haven’t told me about what you’re doing, but on the off chance that you were free this weekend I saved a room for you in my house if you’d want to come. No pressure,” he says, and you definitely don’t miss the glimmer of excitement that flashes in his eyes when you nod your head, deciding to just let Art win and not try to put up a fight. To be honest, it’s not like you were doing anything good locked up in your dorm room, so you might as well go to Art’s house. Worst comes to worst, you’ll just hide and read your novels in the guest room there anyways. 

“By the way,” Art says, looking slightly nervous but also clearly holding back a smile, “Patrick’s gonna be there this weekend too, if that’s ok. You don’t have to talk to him at all, it's no pressure at all.” 

–

The rest of the week passed by you like a breeze, and by Friday morning you were packed for the weekend and ready to go. You had packed a combination of casual cute clothes and some sweats as well, since Art had claimed that this was all gonna be chill and casual. 

All of Art’s guests had to organize rides for themselves, but since you weren’t part of the tennis teams, Art had immediately offered you to go with him. Art was always weirdly good at identifying what was making you anxious, and trying to find a solution if he could. So, after an hour car ride of you blasting your favorite songs with the windows while Art drove you both down to his house, and you realized how much you missed obnoxiously loud music**** and speeding down highways while you were living at Stanford. 

****(Irrelevant author’s note: in my mind, I’m imagining listening to the Jeff Buckley songs Gunshot Glitter, Nightmares by the Sea, and What Will You Say, specifically the live version from the Theatre de Fourviére, Lyon, France. Yes, it being this specific exact live performance is very important to me! And for bonus points, the Radiohead songs Airbag, Just, and How To Disappear Completely (depressing but heavenly at full volume), and also for something fun and loud, the song Closet by Fleshwater. Trust me that song is so good omg. Ok thats it from me byee <3).

It seemed like no time at all until you and Art arrived at his (insanely oversized) house, and as you pulled into the smoothly paved driveway, you felt a breath of relief escape from your lips. You didn’t fully let yourself process just how much you were dreading the Stanford family weekend until you realized that you actually, officially escaped it, and the relief washes over you like a cold rainstorm finally breaking through a heat wave so long, you had forgotten that the burning feeling wasn’t normal. 

While the thought of your family not even noticing, or more likely not really caring about, the family visiting weekend burned in your chest, it at least felt good to get some physical distance from the festivities going on back at school. And even though you loved Stanford, and it started to feel like your true home, you knew it would do you good to be physically forced out and away from your beloved dorm room, after trapping yourself in it so much (which you had also been planning to do again this weekend). And besides, you knew that Art was going to set you up with a cool guest room, which, although you didn’t want to admit it, would definitely be way nicer than your cramped little single dorm and rock-hard twin bed that you had grown used to. (No hate to the dorm room from this story we still love u queen <333)

Walking through the front door of Art’s house felt like another sigh of relief, a pestering weight being lifted off of your shoulders, even if just for this weekend. Since you traveled with Art you two arrived a little before everyone else, so you two share a bottle over overly-expensive sparkling rosé (that is definitely too fancy to be consumed casually like this, but Art clearly doesn’t care), while the two of you hang around as people start to arrive and leave their stuff in their rooms.

It’s only like 7pm on Friday night when the party has already seemingly started, all of the guests having arrived and just too excited to wait to have fun until later that night. You find yourself more relaxed at this party than at the usual frats, sipping on some other expensive champagne that Art opened for you, actually savoring your countless glasses you’re drinking, instead of your usual chug of overly strong liquor-filled complete mind-escaping drinks. You queue up songs and walk around the ground floor, the kitchen, the living room, and the game room all filled with different groups of tennis kids playing games and hanging out. It feels a lot more low stakes than the usual frat rager, and you enjoy the slight warm and fuzzy feeling you're getting from the alcohol, instead of drinking until you stumble around and your head feels empty. 

You almost get surprised when a song that you’re sure you didn’t mean to queue up, Lover, You Should’ve Come Over by Jeff Buckley, the live from the Cabaret Metro in Chicago version (yes it being this live version is important to me) starts flooding the room. The song is definitely too gut-wrenching to be playing at a college party, you think to yourself, but you also don’t make any effort to skip the song or turn it off anytime soon. Hearing this song blasted over the speakers, surrounding you in its emotion and vulnerability, feels almost like a complete catharsis. And of course, as if in a queue, you spot him across the room…

Patrick. fucking. Zweig.

He looks up at the same time as you, the bridge of the Jeff Buckley song blaring and the timing feels too in point, like some sort of dumb set-up. And you almost want to roll your eyes, but you can’t move your stare away from his eyes, and without even trying you feel like you can read straight through his intense gaze, like you’ve both been hypnotized by each other’s expressions. And as you hold eye contact for far too long to be normal, you see a break in his expression. For a single moment he looks completely fragile, and his walls have broken straight through. And in his eyes, you see a glimmer of sweetness, and even though he’d tried approaching you several times before, he had never looked this lovesick and cute before. And though you’d only met a few times, and you tried to convince yourself you didn’t care, something in you broke down from the way he was looking at you… and for a passing moment, you could read the loneliness behind his expression, and you could feel it tearing him apart too, the same way it did to you. And for the first time you let yourself notice a concealed sadness in his eyes that felt so familiar, a thought crossed your mind that said that somehow, you must have known each other all your lives.

The moment only lasts until you blink, and you realize that you had fully stopped breathing for the past 39 seconds, looking at him. Your mind swells with a hailstorm of countell words, your thoughts connecting and swirling into tornados, and you couldn’t help but just sit there and feel them breaking down your strength and burning doubts through your memories. You felt as old memories started echoing through your body, and your mind was filled with alarms blaring, begging you to not let the past happen again, screaming at you to run or hide.

You tried to pay back attention to the music, which had moved from Jeff Buckley songs and was now playing some old SZA that Art must’ve cued up, and you tried to focus on the music, wishing that it would drown out the noise of the alarms that still tortured you, and your thoughts were so loud you thought they might overflow. Needing to get out, especially before Patrick saw you like this, you rushed over to Art, desperately needing to reach the nearest escape route.

“Hey Art, which guest room is mine?” you ask, trying to press a fake smile on your face, willing your face to look happy, but your voice chokes as you desperately hold into the tears threatening to stream down your cheeks. Everything is too overwhelming for a second, and while you try to focus just on the music, the random groups of friends hanging out around you start to feel like they’re closing in on you, and their drunken giggles and chatter start to sound like they must be talking about you. All of a sudden you feel suffocatingly claustrophobic, and you can’t help but choke on your breathing. Just praying to the tears and sobs you’re clinging onto can stay back for just one more minute, at least until you get to the stairs. 

Art looks over your face, almost worried but trying hard not to press into you and make you feel worse. “The stairs are through there”, he says, gesturing to a hallway on the right, “and your room is the third door on the left. There’s a little sticky note with your name on it up on the door, I put one on yours and Patrick’s rooms to reserve the best rooms for you guys,” he explains, trying to give you a comforting smile, trying to show his understanding without making you feel delicate, even though you look like you could break at any moment. He’s never seen you like this, so opened, and it’s like someone completely tore down the walls and guards you always keep around you. The coldness that usually sits in your eyes is gone, and while you may just look kind of upset to most people, Art can tell how unprotected you feel right now. He nods and guides you over to the hall that leads to the stairs, but he lets you walk up alone so that you don’t have to cry in front of him. Despite his instinct to comfort you, he knows that you want to be alone right now, so he lets you go. 

Your conversation with Art goes mainly unwatched and you sneak out of the party pretty successfully, as you’re finally out of sight from the crowded living room, stepping slowly up the soft beige carpet that drapes over the tall spiral staircase. Once you’re completely hidden from the party, you finally let yourself lose control over your spilling tears and silent sobs, rushing up the stairs and into the room that Art had labeled with your name. The guest room looked regal, an ornate white cabinet standing against the wall and a huge, soft bed sitting in the room, the towering white bed frame adorned with a transparent, light blue canopy that draped over the bed, turning the bed into a fantasy-like cove that looked like it belonged on a cloud, not in a spare bedroom of the Donaldson’s mansion. You somehow don’t even have the energy to change out of your jeans before you flip off the lightswitch and crawl straight into bed, letting yourself get swallowed up into the blankets as your tears and mascara silently stain one of several white pillows stacked around the bed. If you weren’t in the middle of crying you probably would’ve laughed at how extravagant and detailed the Donaldson’s guest rooms are, the whole mansion feeling like it should have been more out of Downton Abbey than the house of Art Donaldson. There were also somehow like 5 other bedrooms scattered around the house, and you didn’t even want to imagine what the rest of them looked like. 

Sniffling, you close your eyes and do your best to breathe, pushing away the thoughts that you feel eating at you, echoing around your mind, waiting for answers- what the fuck happened there with Patrick? You took one good look at him and wanted to cry, like what the fuck. 

The familiarity in his expression is haunting- you’ve spent so much time feeling alone and misunderstood, and you’d just figured that no one would really get how you feel, and that was ok… But he understood it. He understood the loneliness tearing you apart, and maybe somehow he felt it too. But why would some random, rich, popular tennis player kid understand you out of everyone? How could he understand feeling unwanted, when he looked like that? And the memory of his brash, cocky smile makes you want to cry even more, you can’t believe you’re getting attached to someone who clearly wouldn’t care about you. You had tried too hard to push him away, and not let yourself get close to him whenever he came to visit… but something about tonight made you feel completely powerless. What scared you the most was that during all of it, you could feel that all you’d really wanted in that moment was to be wrapped in his arms, and told that everything was ok. You just wanted to feel cared for- you didn’t want to feel the pain by yourself. And feeling like that was genuinely terrifying.

And as much as you hated the truth, you also felt so relieved to admit it. To maybe be ok with it, even though it seemed terrifying to trust someone like that again. But despite how much you hated the truth, it felt freeing to stop forcing yourself to deny it, even if it was just for a moment.

You let yourself sink into sleep, and despite the night being hard, it somehow felt necessary- and while you know that your guard won’t stay down forever, it at least felt good to let yourself past the walls for the first time in a while. 

–

The next day you woke up to an intense beam of sunlight pouring straight through the windows and onto your bed, and the tension that you’d been holding in your body doesn’t feel so tight anymore. 

As you climb out of the sunlit bed and step onto the cold wooden floor, you can’t help but cringe when you realize you slept in yesterday's clothes. And jeans. You really were completely drained, and you must have also been crazy tired yesterday- maybe that’s why everything felt so intense, and your little moment with Patrick was not as terrible as you thought, right?

You changed into a new outfit for the day, fixing your hair and redoing some makeup, and you went down to find an already populated kitchen. You ate breakfast and made small talk with some friendly tennis girls, checked in with Art, and curled up on a couch and read for a couple hours- you tried to not hide in your room, but you definitely were also not going to waste all of your energy before the night even began.

By the time you had gotten up that morning it was already past 10am, and the rest of the day seemed to just breeze past you, as you alternated between reading, hanging out in the backyard with Art and some of his teammates, and you even passed by Patrick a couple of times without psyching yourself out too much.

You were curled up on the couch the first time he walked through the living room, and he smiled at you when you looked up. But the proudness and obnoxious confidence that he usually bared in his smile was absent, his expression just kind of cute and soft, a stark difference from the usual intimidating mask he has on. He ends up just passing through the living room and going to the kitchen, but his smile sticks in your mind for a little longer, your slight surprise as the pure softness of his look still present in the back of your mind even as your mind wanders away from him and back into your reading.

You two pass by each other a couple more times that day, and you notice how even when he greets you in public, his guard falls for just a minute when he looks at you, his loud facade falling just for you. Art clearly notices too, and you can see the amusement on his face whenever Patrick looks over at you, stealing small glances at you when you don’t notice. He’s told both you and Patrick enough about each other that you two don’t seem like strangers despite this being your second time meeting. He can’t help but let out a laugh when he sees the way you look back at Patrick though- your stare back at him is cold, and even though Art knows that you’re not doing it on purpose, you never really smile back- you seem more focused on reading Patrick’s smile than focusing on your own face. And no matter what, you consistently look away from him first, and your cheeks burn a little red every time you look away.

You two continue your silent game for the rest of the day, and you let it happen. Patrick Zweig was pining. 

Even after your constant pushing and pulling, and avoidance, and dismissing of Patrick, he was still there. After fucking months. And for some reason, he understood you. And he fucking waited, he waited for you to open up, and he didn’t even know if you every would. And he cared for who you were. Even when you were really fucking embarrassing. And maybe, possibly, he isn’t just trying to hurt you, and, like, someone could actually care. And you wanted to let him. You did. 

But you stayed quiet.

-

By the time the sun had set, you had decided to accept your fate as completely hopeless. And you were completely exhausted. And you decided that you should just talk to Patrick and tell him it’s over, and you don’t want him. And you knew it would be a blatant lie, and he would know it was a lie, and even fucking Art would know it was a lie, and you didn’t know why you were doing it. 

And you could again feel yourself being ripped to shreds on the inside. And you knew it was your fault, and you were making it happen. And to be honest, all you could think about was how you wished he was holding you. And you wished for things to slow down, and for the constant alarms in your mind to quiet down, and you just wished that everything could just cease to exist for one moment, so maybe for once you could have a break. 

You and Art were the only ones left outside, surrounded in a total silence that was more vulnerable than anything you had ever said to him. And you tried to tell Art about how you really, truly, didn’t want Patrick. But the words just didn’t make sense. How could you end things with someone you had never even started with? How could you even explain to Patrick that, even though you had always rejected him, that you actually wanted him the whole time, and now you don't? And how could you even admit to Patrick that you wanted him in the first place? And how can you explain a feeling this complicated? 

“It’s fucking torture. Even just thinking about him is fucking torture,” you say, your words piercing the silence that had laid so comfortably over you before. 

You watched as Art turned his face, looking at you, but not saying anything.

You let out a shaky breath before continuing, “It’s just… I don’t even know anymore. I don’t understand why I can’t let myself be happy for once. For the first time, I feel like I’m just completely breaking. Like, I can’t protect myself anymore. It’s like I’m fucking killing myself keeping people away, and I feel like it’s what I need to do to protect myself, but I’m fucking dying maintaining this. And I don’t want to be like this. I want to be different.”

And you just… cry. 

And for the first time, you don’t hide, and you don’t try to run away. You sit there, and cry. And you just let it happen. 

You look over at Art and break a small smile- “Can we watch a movie?” You ask, your voice still a little shaky.

And, of course, Art grins and nods- “Yeah. of course. We can go to the little lounge upstairs,” he says, getting up alongside you as you both walk indoors.

Just like last night, the entire ground floor of Art’s house is filled with the tennis kids partying. But you don’t spot Patrick anywhere as you and Art cross through the living room and reach the stairs, and as you climb up, Art breaks the silence. 

“Patrick’s probably in his room,” Art says, looking straight at you, practically having read your mind.

You roll your eyes and let yourself smile, softly responding, “could you maybe invite him?”

Art nods, pointing to the TV lounge room, saying “there’s the lounge room. I’ll ask Patrick. Meet you there,”

The wooden floor planks make a slight creaking noise as you walk down the hallway, entering the little room that Art had pointed to. It’s just a little lounge room, with a sofa and an armchair facing a tv. You pick up the remote and start fiddling with it, sitting down on the big couch, sinking into the cushions. Your heart rate goes up a little as you hear footsteps coming near the door, and Patrick walks into the room, followed by a grinning Art. Patrick sits on the other side of the small couch, while Art snatches the remote from you and claims the armchair. 

“Any requests?” Art asks, flipping through the different streaming options. Neither you nor Patrick answer, so Art ends up flipping through the options before picking some random, terrible looking horror movie off Netflix. He turns off the room lights as the movie plays, and you curl into the couch. You can’t help but look over at Patrick, watching him stare at the screen, clearly deep in thought. 

You watch Patrick for a long moment, and although you can feels the alarms in your head waiting to go off, you just stay still. And you feel scared for a second, realizing just how unguarded you feel, and how easily you could just fall into Patrick’s hold. 

And for the second time that night, you cry. The tears stream silently down your face, and Patrick looks over as you wipe them off. And you just cry. You cry because you’re lonely, and you cry because it hurts that you just want to feel cared for so bad. And you cry because you wish you could’ve told Patrick or Art about your family, and you hate that you feel so damaged. You cry because you hate how Patrick and Art understand you so well, and you cry because you know that Patrick understands you because he feels it too. And you cry because you hate how much you’ve resisted Patrick, and that you didn’t let yourself even talk to him. And you cry because you regret pushing Patrick away so much, and you cry because you watched him open up for you, and you couldn’t do it for him. And you cry because you miss the way he touched you on that first night you met, and you cry because you feel dumb for crying.

And Patrick can’t help but just look over at you, your knees curled into your chest as you cry. And he doesn’t know what you’d want him to do. He’s never seen you cry like this, and he can tell how much it hurts to cry in front of him. “Hey,” he whispers, looking over at you, your face tucked into your knees, and for the first time, you seem so small. His gaze softens when you look up at him, letting him see your tear-stained face. And in that moment, the couch seems so big yet so small, and he just wants to hold you.

And Patrick can see Art out of the corner of his eye, observing the scene. And Art almost looks frozen in awe, looking at how his best friend looks at you, and how you look back at him. 

You and Patrick look at each other for a beat, when Patrick almost inaudibly whispers, “can I come closer?”

You nod, letting go of your knees pressed against your chest, and move closer to Patrick. And you can't help but meet his gaze again, as he leans in and scoops you up into his lap. And you’re curled up against him, your head his chest, as he wraps his arms around you and just holds you there. Patrick looks over to Art, who is now watching the movie intently, as he glances down at you, trying to make sure that you’re ok.

Art looks over at you two and can’t help but smile at the scene, seeing both Patrick’s tough act and your cold defenses just completely let down. But it’s really late, and he quietly gets up, whispering to both of you that he’s going to sleep and good night.

And wrapped up in Patrick’s arms, you let your eyes close and you nuzzle your face into the crook of his shoulder. And he holds you tighter. Patrick leaves a kiss on the top of your head, as you whisper, “Can we lie down? I’m tired”

Still refusing to let go of you, Patrick adjusts to lay across the couch, and you lay over him, as he holds you flush against his chest. As his arms wrap around you, he rubs circles across your back with one of his hands, and holds you tightly against the other. 

And you feel safe in his arms. And as you drift off to sleep, you feel that maybe, from now on, you won’t have to go through everything by yourself.

[explaintome]

Dear Mouthwashing fandom, explain to me, why next to the incredible fan art, I find a fuck ton of shipping content, especially between characters where this is highly problematic? SPOILERS FOR MOUTHWASHING AHEAD CN for talk about sexual abuse, death, suicide & violence

DISCLAIMER: I do not shame the general practice of shipping at all. I am a shipper myself and I think it makes up for a lot of interesting dynamics and narratives outside the canon. Shipping is an important pillar of fandom communities and I am unable to forbid you to do it. HOWEVER, in the case of Mouthwashing I want to talk about what, in my opinion, feels tone-deaf to the themes and the canon of the game. But let me start with a short summary of the game before I get into it.

Mouthwashing is basically a visual novel that takes place on the Tulpar, the last manned cargo ship of the company Pony Express. The crew, consisting of Caption Curly, Co-Captain Jimmy, Nurse Anya, Mechanic Swansea and his intern Daisuke, is confronted with a crash against an asteroid and the consequences following it. The story is told out of order to reveal the truth bit by bit. What caused the crash, what happened and how the crew deals with the time afterward being stuck on the ship. Revealing sexual abuse, tragic backstories, the horrible side effects of late state capitalism and the neglect of people in command towards the people they are responsible for.

To boil it down we have two men who, out of societal misogyny, hurt the only woman on their crew by assaulting her or not acting as they should have in their position of responsibility. All of this would not have happened if Jimmy didn't rape Anya and impregnate her, and if Curly had disciplined Jimmy in a capacity possible on the ship and in Jimmy's position as co-pilot. To be honest, with the amount of automatization the ship has, I don't think they need Jimmy if it is not a case of emergency, but I digress. Jimmy is the perpetrator of the story, but Curly is an accomplice in putting his aim of finding a solution and compromise over punishing his subordinate as he should have.

And now to my actual point: I am a big fan of the game, the narration style and the utter tragedy of 5 people losing their lives in the isolation of space, with their company not giving a shit about them. Otherwise, they might have been rescued much earlier or at all. Or had enough cryo pots in the first place. Or a nurse with experience. Or any amount of better equipment and not the most cheap shit that somehow made it through a resemblance of regulations. There are probably no regulations.

Being a fan I, of course, looked into the hashtags on several social media sites, and between the incredible art and analysis of the game, I quickly found shipping content, and I have no idea why. I have literally no idea how that narrative speaks to you in a way of shipping characters romantically/sexually. Especially three shippings really rub me the wrong way.

ANYA/JIMMY

Are you fucking kidding me? Literally, what is wrong with you shipping a victim with their abuser? There was not one interaction between them, that suggest that there was consent or affection, that Jimmy has any sympathy for Anya. He knows what is going on, he knows that Anya is pregnant and takes no responsibility. Even worse, his idea of FIXING this was to kill everyone, at least himself, to avoid responsibility! Same goes for AUs where she kept the baby and is somehow okay and happy? I get the urge to fix it, but that is not a good fix. There is no good fix if you are pregnant due to rape.

ANYA/CURLY

A lot of argument I hear for that is that "at least Curly is her friend and was nice to her" and if that is your whole foundation of argument, I want to ask what your standards for a relationship are. Please know that you deserve more than the bare minimum. Another question in that context: Is Curly really Anya's friend? His friend was abused and instead of protecting her, he tried to reason and help her abuser! That is not the behavior of a friend! There is no "but Jimmy is his friend too!". If your friend is an abuser and that does not make you stop being their friend....why?

JIMMY/CURLY

It feels like it is a law on the internet, that two men who look at least averagely handsome will be shipped, especially if they have the tiniest of connection to each other. I am not even sure if I would call them friends in the first place. It appears that Jimmy, whatever his bad life before that job was (thanks to the developers for not giving us a backstory), he is still absolutely unsatisfied with that he has. He is jealous of Curly and his position, seeing how quickly he takes on the Captain title after the crash and only realizes far too late how hard the position actually is. Curly on the other hand feels a bit like a people pleaser to me. He probably had pity for Jimmy, took him under his wing to help him? Fix him? Whatever it is, it made him ignore Jimmy's bad side to a fatal degree. I respect the toxic yaoi but are you sure?

TLDR; I am worried about how the practice of shipping developed, from a way to extend the canon, explore queerness in cis/straight dominated media, into a compulsion of where some people can't look at any form of media or constellation of characters without immediately smashing them together like dolls. If you do this, maybe step back for a minute and ask yourself if it is appropriate. On that note, same goes in case you defend Jimmy. Why?

[pendularium]

sorry, yapping quickly. I saw a post earlier analysing how vi doesn't stand up for the zaunites to caitlyn, and contrasting that to jinx (and ekko), and viewing vi as a sort of pick me (not the language used but I can't find the original rn), and like. yes, I think the argument is correct, but there is like one thing I want to add, which is that vi, unlike jinx and ekko, isn't really in a position where she can criticise caitlyn right? ok hear me out. so one) imo a lot of s1 establishes vi as someone genuinely desperate for connection - its the thought to getting back to powder that gets her through prison (where she has been pretty isolated), her and caitlyn click incredibly fast etc, and all of s1 into s2 happen pretty damn fast right? vi gets out of prison, gains a friend, regains a sister and then instantly loses her again, and then that loss of powder is really underscored in the finale - vi has very few relationships left, and most of the ones she has had have ended in horrible tragedy and violence; it is no wonder that she especially would try to cling to the one (cait) she has left and two) vi is also someone who is constantly in the big sister/protector role - her intro shows this, her leadership of their little gang as kids, and after the time skip (after she fails) you can see her try to assert her dominance over caitlyn in s1 - vi is the one who knows the lanes, caitlyn has to keep up, vi throws caitlyn out of her comfort zone in the brothel etc., vi is trying to demonstrate that she has worth to caitlyn right? and of course when maddie is talking to vi, it's caitlyn expressing respect for vi's actions that vi seizes onto. I don't think this is (just) a way of showing off to caitlyn, rich girl from piltover, I think this is part of vi's understanding of herself as a figure of authority and protection in her relationships put them together and you have someone who, when confronted with an angry and grieving caitlyn, her last real connection (not counting ekko) makes compromises to avoid a confrontation with her. vi doesn't counter 'what kind of animals' directly, because that risks her relationship with caitlyn; she is pretty consistently someone who cares more about personal relationships than the grand scheme of things (as does powder/jinx but that's a different post). and yet, with that in mind, vi does try to defend zaunites! first, she tries to humanise them right; instead of being wild uncontrollable beasts, vi positions them as making a calculated attack - they wanted the spectacle, they're trying to scare you, and then after caitlyn doubles down on her anger towards them, vi pushes for caitlyn to call off the invasion. those aren't the actions of someone who doesn't care about zaunites, or would rather side with piltover imo, they're the actions of someone who does care about zaun, but who doesn't want to jeopardise her relationship with caitlyn. vi joining the enforcers is not only her staying with caitlyn, but also her trying to prevent the invasion. if I go after your sister alone, one of us comes back in a box = caitlyn won't go alone. the strike force then, can be read as a deliberate compromise between caitlyn, who has all the power here, and vi, who doesn't want zaun to be invaded by the enforcers

this is, of course, just a way you can read all this lol, if you disagree/want to add on please do so! I am a bit busy rn but I cannot express how much I want to talk about arcane with people

[writingmeraki]

enemy!rafe cameron hcs !

ft. older!maybank!sibling

★ prng. rafe cameron x older!maybank!sibling, e2l ★ gnr. angst, fluff, unresolved feelings ★ wrngs. cussing, jealousy, alcohol, violence, age gap ( reader is older ), mentions of parental issues ( for the sake of this, jj and reader don't have parents. ) w.c 3.7k ( yeah so um....) | a/n at the end.

older!maybank!sibling who finally graduated and is headed home.

After all the years of hardwork and the distance from home, you're headed back to where it all began for you.

It's been a while. You've changed. A lot. Not just physically but also as a person. When you'd gone out of the town you'd grown up in, you didn't think you'd be able to make it out in the ‘real’ world. Considering how your brother and you basically had to fend for yourselves due to not having your parents, you really didn't know what would happen to you outside.

Outside of your home and if you'd survive. But you still took the leap, four years back, and you can't say you regret it. You were grateful for having John B’s father promise to take care of JJ, and you think leaving him was the hardest part. He understood you though, in fact was the one who supported you the most to get out of the town.

Yet no matter what the little island still seems the only thing unchanged, with its weather to the sand on the beach. The familiar houses, the roads, the sounds, everything was all the same. 

But who changed was your brother and his friends. 

older!maybank!sibling is immediately thrown into a hug the moment JJ spots them.

You couldn't stop the tears and the shock that ran through you once you saw him. He looked…different. In a way as though he matured over the years. His look, his height, his hair, his eyes, everything seemed different. Of course you maintained contact with him in the years, but you never went back for any of the holidays. Due to the fact, you were sure you'd not head back to your college. And your brother knew that, he made sure you didn't feel alone. 

His friends, you remembered all of them, were just as surprised to see you as you were them. They all definitely looked much more mature than when you remember them as the scrawny kids you'd last seen. 

John B, Kiara, Pope, and someone you'd never met before Sarah. Sarah Cameron. You were familiar with her family but not enough as you liked to stay out of places you knew you weren't welcome. And yes, you didn't forget the ‘hierarchies’ that were there.

You still did find them stupid. Though, she was a huge surprise. She didn't seem like the arrogant assholes you remembered how the other side of the island were stereotyped as. 

In fact, it seemed she knew you for years from the way you got along as if you'd also known her the way you knew his other friends. She told you how JJ never once stopped talking about you, how you'd think, what you'd be doing at the moment and all the other stories he has of you. You would endlessly tease to him how much he missed you.

older!maybank!sibling who's crowded at the first bonfire party they ever attend in the years.

You saw many familiar faces, very few new ones. But all in all, the night was mostly just you being caught up on what you'd miss. Which was really, not much. You were told how most days, the Pogues, all they did was their adventures and you were told of what they'd done in the past years.

Some stories made you very concerned, some made you proud while in all, there was a part of you that wished was also there. While they had stories, you had the same to give.

Stories of college party nights, your group of friends you'd managed to make after so much trial and error, which you also did inform them of all, but now you were sure that you found the ones who you'd also likely be attending their weddings. ( Lifelong college friendships >> ).

You promised them that you would make them all meet each other. You also showed the new piercings and tattoos you'd gotten. It was on your bucket list before you left and you finally got it fulfilled. 

Along with you coming back, also came your overprotective older sibling persona, which made you heavily judge JJ for overconsuming so much alcohol. You had to snatch away the glass as he threw himself on you and whined about how he was just very happy to finally see you. You shook your head with a smile as you looked at him fondly, caressing his hair. You replied, “I know, Jaybird, I know.” 

And his eyes lit up from the nickname you gave him since you were a kid, it was something between you two only and only fate knows how much he missed someone (you) calling him that even though he hated it as a kid. 

older!maybank!sibling done for the day and heading to call it a night as the crowd filters out slowly.

You weren't aware of the new people who joined in later, considering you'd gone to take a call from your friend wondering if you'd reached home. The conversation took a while which meant you didn't realize what had happened. 

You gasped when you went back to JJ, seeing the big bruise on his cheek as he sat down with a face of rage and annoyance. “What the fuck?!” You wondered how you didn't even realize what had happened until you heard another voice. Spinning around, you came face to face with him. 

It took you a minute to recognise the guy standing in front of you. 

Rafe Cameron. 

From what you recalled, he was a kid who always stuck to his father. You rarely ever saw him and were surprised to remember him too but you think his very blue eyes made you recall him. He…he definitely had a change. A glow up, but you won't admit it.

His height has grown, making him almost a head taller than you, his face got much sharper, and the scowl on his lips shouldn't look that…attractive. His hair ruffled, strands of it laying perfectly on his forehead like he was some sort of perfect mess. 

And that's when it clicked again, he was Sarah’s brother too. 

Him though. He was just as, maybe even more surprised to see you. It took him a minute and a bit of internal questioning about how someone like you was talking to someone like Maybank. 

Then, he remembered. His older sibling. You were Maybank’s older sibling. 

He was a bit, no actually he was completely baffled by you. He heard around how you'd left, often even used you to spew insults at JJ. But he didn't expect you to look like that. He gulped when he realized he might have been staring for too long before directing his stare at JJ. Right, his initial target. 

Your eyes darted between your brother and back to Rafe. You raised an eyebrow as you saw him holding his hand. Injured hand. And that's when it hit you. 

With a menacing scowl, you spat at him. “You did this?” You pointed at his bruised cheek.  

JJ flinched at your tone, not used to it being so harsh. While Rafe seemed to go speechless as his mouth opened to respond but couldn't due to his tongue feeling weirdly heavy. It was so fucking stupid of him. Normally, he'd have jumped at the chance to mock, but it seemed he couldn't at the moment.

The next thing you knew, before you could even comprehend, you just took a deep breath, your eyes darting back to JJ’s who might have been getting an idea of what you were about to do as his own widened and he shook his head. With a scoff, you turned back to Rafe and stepped closer. 

And before he could even think, he felt his face being whipped to the left sharply. You might not have had the same strength or force in your slap, but you were sure it would leave a mark. You weren't even the violent type, but for your brother, you'd kill anyone who dared to even harm him. 

“Next time, don't even think about hurting him. Because I can do worse, got it…Rafe?” 

Rafe didn't even know how to respond. Everything was so quick, and all he really felt was the sharp sting in his cheek. The way you said his name, the way you fucking remembered who he was. It was too much at once. He didn't even realize he might have just nodded and how he just remained frozen in the spot. It wasn't like he was not used to being hurt, especially when confronting JJ, a little violence was always there, but he was taken aback by you, your entire presence that he couldn't even say something. 

Glaring at him with as much hatred you could, you moved back to your brother and his friends. Annoyed that now your hand stung and you carefully took your brother back to John B’s.  

It was chaos between the rest of his friends. All wondering, how you'd even manage to go unscathed but you just shrugged and scowled that he got what he deserved but probably also deserved much more. Even worse. 

older!maybank!sibling realizing they may have just started something they were never ready for.

After the little incident, it hit Rafe just how humiliated you also made him. His ego, which was his one firm thing in his life, was hurt. And after this thinking, mostly Topper just made him question why he just stood there like an idiot and let some…some pogue slap him like that. Now following this realization, he made sure to worsen his supposed ‘reign’ over the rest of the Pogues. 

Yet. If you were present with them, it was as though you had him in a trance. He couldn't do anything, say, or let alone look at you without feeling…nervous. And this made him even more mad at himself because it wasn't the ‘scared’ nervousness that ran through him, it was more so how there seemed to be a fucking zoo in his entire chest near you. He felt his stomach drop too sometimes. 

Now that you were updated about what exactly Rafe Cameron was upto and continued to do, which was to be a pain in the ass to the Pogues, your impression of him went down the drain.

Not that it was much anyways considering he did harm your baby brother. But now all you felt when you spotted him was pure hatred. 

This resulted in you biting back at him and his words when he decided to have a go at the others. Your words, never ones you knew you could even say, were laced with rage and venom and your eyes shone the same. 

Your medium of communication with him was insults and bickering, but it seemed he seized the physical violence after that day. 

older!maybank!sibling getting to their wits end during one of the ‘regular’ confrontations with Rafe.

It was another party, something you came to knew was a very regular thing now. It was the usual insults spat at each other, until you finally just walked away. You didn't even know why you engaged in the argument. Didn't even understand, why in God's name you continued to maintain these fights when you were someone who was calm. Being a violent teenager was what you left in the past, it wasn't like you. 

Deciding you'd had enough, you went for a drink. There you met, one of the guys, who you became friends with when you came back, Mark.

Mark was pretty sweet, meeting him during one of these parties too a while back, and you'd even exchanged numbers that day, remembering it so clearly due to the fact that Rafe Cameron wasn't even there then. You'd been level headed that day, and spoken to others around and clicked with Mark instantly. 

Mark had gone for some time out of town for his work, but he was back. You even recalled him messaging you how he'd be joining the bonfire tonight. It was surely a delight to see him again. 

He hugged you shortly after you said hi and you were happy to return the gesture. You continued to talk to him as he gave you your drink. Your conversation felt light, not something that would make you want to rip your hair out the way most of your conversations with Rafe went. And you wondered why in God's name were you thinking of him. 

Seeing you so close to a guy he didn't even know, Rafe to say the least, was pissed. Annoyed and pissed.

He scoffed at the way you leaned in closer to him. You had that stupid look on your face where your eyes twinkled and your smile was so bright, it made his heart leap in annoyance. He couldn't stand it. 

Next thing, he knew, he walked up to you both and greeted you sarcastically. Looking at the guy, he noticed that he was taller, which made him feel a slight sense of accomplishment as he stood straight. And Rafe wasn't someone who felt unattractive.

He knew he was hot and he acted like it too. So as he did get a closer look at the guy, he did know he was much better looking.

“Finally, did someone manage to tame you Maybank?” 

Your eyes were already narrowed in suspicion the moment you caught him walking towards you, and you scowled at his words.  You questioned about why he was even bothering you again, when he began to laugh humorlessly at your questioning. 

“Why I'm just concerned, ‘couldn't find guys there who could stand you there so you're targeting the innocent ones here?” 

Before you could even lunge at him, Mark gently held your arm and your gaze shifted back to him. 

Oh this did not go unnoticed by Rafe. It made him even more pissed.

He laughed even more, out of spite, ‘So I was right huh, you are tamed now.” 

You'd had enough.

Pulling away from Mark, you sized up to Rafe and looked him dead in the eye, poking your index finger to his chest.

“Listen to me Rafe. You're a piece of shit who thinks he owns everyone and their lives because you think you're the fucking king of the world or something when in reality, you're a stupid little kid who's projecting his daddy issues onto others. Who the fuck even are you without your last name huh? You're always seeking your daddy’s approval to do shit and think you own the world because of that. Well you're wrong, you're nothing, without your name, without him, you're just a sore fucking loser who doesn't even know an ounce of how life works.” 

It was all your frustration, all the anger and the annoyance caused by him that led up to your explosion. You knew everything about him, and this was when you finally exploded about what you really thought of him. 

But. Instead of him immediately answering you. He stood there frozen. 

You felt the worst fucking dread beginning to build up in your stomach when you saw the emotions in his eyes.  

…Hurt. Sadness. As if it wasn't expected of you to say that. And it wasn't. He knew he got on your nerves but it was so fucking idiotic of him to think you thought of him otherwise. 

And the worst part was….you were right. 

Stepping back, you took a deep breath and scanned his face. It was still the same, no remarks, nothing, now his entire expression went blank too. You shouldn't feel the guilt building up in you as you went over what you said. It was too much, maybe you crossed a line too. 

Without another word, he simply flickered his gaze to the floor and looked back up at you. Nothing, he showed no emotion as he turned around and walked away from you.

older!maybank!sibling wondering how the hell did they end up at a point where now they felt guilty for Rafe Cameron out of all people? 

It took many sleepless nights to make you think over your words. You knew Rafe’s issues with his…father. Sarah had told you so and at that time, a part of you did feel terrible for him. And now you'd ended up using those same issues as insults to his face. This wasn't like you.

You weren't someone, no matter what, who would use these types of things as insults. But you tried justifying your actions with how he'd been treating you the past weeks, how he hit your brother too. It was of no use, you still felt like…you stooped far too low. 

With this too, Rafe stopped. He completely stopped his insults, bickering and petty fights not only with you but the rest of the Pogues. It was as if he'd chosen to just ignore your entire existence whenever you'd accidentally stumbled into him anywhere. 

You felt a bit sick when your brother happily told you how Rafe stopped bothering everyone, even his own sister, because of what you'd done. You obviously told them of what happened but…maybe not the entire truth. You didn't mention what exactly you'd told him. 

You feared they'd all somehow judge you. You hated it. And most importantly, you hated how much you were actively looking for Rafe. 

For what? He stopped bothering you which was what you wanted but…but it was weird. 

Weird how you needed to just…talk to him. Probably…apologize too.

older!maybank!sibling who gets the chance.

It was after weeks, you'd see Rafe again. It had been weeks of peace for sure, but it was weirdly quiet. Sometimes, you get used to all the chaos and crave peace but when you finally have it, you oddly in a fucked up way, miss the chaos. It was stupid. 

You'd been walking alongside the ocean, clearing your mind because the past weeks felt tiring. The sand sunk beneath your steps as you mindlessly walked with your gaze down. When you spotted a figure in the distance, you wondered if it was someone like you who also was seeking comfort from the sea.

You paused when you got closer and realised who it was. 

Rafe.

The one who was the cause of your own haywire. 

It seemed at first he didn't notice you. Which gave you the time to think whether or not this was the moment to finally do what you'd been wanting since a while. 

Going against your better judgment which screamed at you that you got rid of the annoyance in your life and now you were heading right back at him, you moved ahead.

He was startled when he heard soft footsteps and froze when he turned his gaze and saw you.

You the one who'd made him contemplate so much about his life with just some stupid words. You who made him question his feelings because no matter how clear he could hate on others, it seemed he couldn't find it in him to do the same with you. 

‘Hey.’ You began softly, and pointed beside him, ‘Do you uh…mind? 

He didn't even think before he nodded.

After a beat of silence where you let the waves fill in, you spoke up “Look. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I said. And I do regret bringing up your…life like that but honestly it is the truth.” 

You can't say you didn't expect the scoff that followed after your words, and it made you realize just how much you…you sorta missed seeing him, his face. Rafe Cameron was an oddity to you and your feelings. 

“How about this? You don't need to accept my apology but truce?” 

He didn't speak up when he processed your words, or didn't care enough to because his gaze darted towards your stuck out hand. 

“I…I really didn't mean it. That's what you should know.” 

He seemed to be in thought for a moment, your guilt filled eyes consuming his mind for the moment and making him gulp at the way they twinkled under the moonlight. You…you really still manage to steal his breath away without ever trying. 

“Fine. But you still need to make up for it.” He made his mind and took your hand in his. Shaking it. His hand engulfed yours fully and you can't say you hated the way it contrasted your coldness. It was warm and like…like it was a perfect fit. 

At his words, you laughed in disbelief, “Me? Make up for it? You were the one who kept pushing me!” 

“Is that giving up I hear? I thought we called a truce, Maybank?” Rolling your eyes, you stood up, feeling already a tad bit better than before. 

“Ugh whatever Cameron, of course you'd only agree to something if you could find a way to get your own benefit.” 

You didn't want to admit it but there was definitely less venom to your tone, in fact it seemed you were now…joking with him. 

He stood up, running his hand over his hair and shook his head, and it was the first in a while you saw his lips turn up, the small gesture making you freeze, and you hoped he didn't notice.

“You know me so well.” 

His words shouldn't have affected you the way they did, but you gulped as he stared right into your eyes when he did say them. It was intense. A lot, all at once.

And so you looked away, pretending to roll your eyes as you calmed your heartbeat. Shaking your head, you turned around when his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“What no goodbye, new friend?” 

You turned your head towards him, in more disbelief at the word, and blinked at him. It was like he enjoyed baffling you because he chuckled like the idiot he was, “Well I'll say it then, Night Maybank, looking forward to being friends then.” 

With that he turned around and went the opposite way as you continued to stare at where he had been standing. Rafe Cameron just joked around with you…like a normal human being…? 

Maybe you did end up passing out of something and this was all a weird ass dream. Pinching yourself, you felt the pain and winced, realizing this was the actual reality. 

Well then, you guess you should look forward to how exactly you were now going to deal with your new friend. And the weird flutters that never seemed to seize as you recalled the way his genuine laugh seemed to sleep right into your bones and make you melt. 

You were fucked. 

a/n : something new, enjoy. ( new format 🙏) lowkey made this cause i dont have time to write a fic rn :"))) also yes no parents bcoz it would be more...heavy if I included that so just enjoy the beef b/w reader and rafe :D also yes i ended it there bcoz i will see if this is liked by the audience ( you ) and decide to invest more time to write this duo....i do have some ideas planned but do let me know what you think!!! sibling bcoz i write gn mostly if you're new here :D

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! links : main navi ! | misc masterlist | main masterlist | info !

[castiwls]

Chicken noodle soup .ᐟ

Paring; coach!patrick x single mom!reader

Synopsis; flu season is a bitch. Luckily you have two boys who seem pretty keen on helping you.

Notes; I may start a tag list for this if I get enough interest? hm

Masterlist | coach!au masterlist

Flu season.

Last year you’d been lucky, Noah had managed to breeze through unharmed and in turn, so had you. Now though you wished you’d enjoyed those times more than you had. Lying on your couch watching whatever rerun was on you really debated never sending Noah back to school again. 

It had started with a small sniffle a few days after your son had come home from his father's looking like he was knocking on death's door. You knew the moment your ex had called because if there was one thing you knew about him; he never called you.

Less than half an hour later he’d showed up claiming he had to take an emergency shift before all but running down the driveway. Luckily Noah didn’t seem to mind, he’d been determined to stay stuck to your side at all hours of the day and before you knew it your son wasn’t the only one living on chicken noodle soup.

Luckily kids bounce back fast and within four days Noah was rearing and ready to go while you tried to push through the throbbing in your skull. 

Your plan clearly hadn’t worked as for the last 3 days your son's best friend's parents had taken over school runs. Grabbing another tissue you blew your nose for what felt like the hundredth time before groaning and letting your eyes flutter shut.

You had an hour and a half before Noah would be back from tennis - that was long enough for a power nap.

Maybe you'd finally be able to sleep this damn cold off.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Shh. Quiet remember.” One voice whispered before a quiet giggle could be heard. Swallowing you grimaced slightly at the pain and the reminder that you were in fact still sick - much to your distaste. You opened your eyes just enough to see Noah appear in the doorway, and your head throbbed at the light from the window.

“Hi!” He smiled, his voice quieter than normal as he came over.

His little arms wrapped around your neck, his curls brushing your ear as he hugged you. “Hey, Sweetheart.” You murmured, your voice raspy. He hummed trying to climb up onto the couch but a quiet voice halted his movements. 

“I don’t think your Mom’s gonna wanna cuddle right now.” Noah pouted but relented much to your secret relief. He hovered by you for a moment before turning to the other person. Noah shifted. “Do we have to tell her dad didn’t come?”

It took you a moment to register your son’s words through the haze of sickness which seemed to smother your whole body. 

"Dad didn’t come."

Suddenly your eyes shot open and for the first time in the last few days, you felt alert. His dad didn’t come? Who the hell brought him-

Oh.

Ignoring the pounding in your head you turned just enough to look at the figure in the doorway. Patrick smiled sheepishly raising a hand in greeting. “I didn’t wanna call in case you tried to come yourself.” He mumbled stepping closer as you shifted to sit up, the blanket pooling over your lap.

The world spun for a moment as you took a breath. Noah climbed up next to you, keeping a slight distance as he ran a hand over the soft blanket. “Your dad didn’t come?” you asked quietly.

Your son nodded, a look of hurt on his face which made your heart ache. “I waited an hour.” Patrick cut in, crossing his arms as annoyance flashed across his face for a moment. What kind of guy left his kid knowing his Mom was sick?

“He never picked up when I called either, straight to voicemail.” 

You sighed rubbing a hand over your face. You didn’t have the energy for this. You knew your ex was an ass but this, this was a new low.

The minute you could talk without it feeling like you were being stabbed in the throat he was dead. He could be a dick to you all he wanted but your son? That was a completely different ballpark.

“Go get changed.” You said reaching over to smooth down the boy's hair for a moment. “You can get a snack as well.” You knew he was upset yet the mention of an extra snack of his choosing seemed to perk him up as he ran off.

Patrick watched you for a moment, taking in your pale skin and dark circles. “Jesus.” He mumbled. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

He smiled slightly. Even sick you still somehow managed to give him the same dry tone.

“Thank you for this.” Patrick blinked, shocked slightly at the sincerity in your tone. “I…I don’t even wanna think what would have happened if you didn’t stay.” 

“It's fine.” He waved his hand. “Kid's technically my responsibility till his parents come. Just doing my job.” He shrugged.

Looking around he noted the multiple tissues, medicine, and cups scattered by the couch.  It was clear that you'd barely moved and for a moment he wondered how the hell you were taking care of a child while looking like you'd been knocking on death's door.

Sighing he reached down grabbing a few of the cups. “What are you doing?”

He paused looking up to see you watching him with a small frown. “Cleaning up.” He answered simply before grabbing more. He quite impressively managed to get almost all of the cups and tissues before standing.

You watched quietly. A part of you was surprised, your son's tennis coach was cleaning up your mess. He’d just stayed back at practice to bring him home when you both know he didn’t have to do that.

It sent a small pang of warmth through your heart that he'd stayed. H

As much as he annoyed you, you couldn’t lie that he was a decent guy (sometimes). Most of the time he still made you want to rip your hair out.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

Patrick smiled slightly at the way Noah seemed to immediately gravitate towards you. He burrowed into your side, slipping under the blanket draped over your lap. He watched for a moment as your eyes fluttered again your body slumping slightly as you tried to fight off the sleep your body was so badly needing.

The feeling of a cool palm against your forehead made you jump, your eyes shooting open just to come face to face with a pair of concerned green eyes.

Patrick's face was set into a frown, your skin was practically radiating heat as he held his palm there. 

A deep sigh left you as you subconsciously lent into the cool feeling of his palm. If he ever brought this up again you would vehemently deny any of this but in the moment you couldn’t find it in you to care.

You’d been trying to parent and nurse yourself back to health and you were simply exhausted.

“You're burning up." He murmured placing a hand on the arm of the couch to steady himself as he crouched down. Noah watched shifting to lean over your lap. A small frown pulled at his lips. “You'll be okay?” Patrick was quick to nod, soothing the boy's worries. 

“Just a cold bud.” He smiled gently easing him back off you slightly. “A cold I think you gave to her.” He teased. You huffed nodding in agreement. Noah pouted sitting back before a smile pulled at his lips as you poked his side.

“S’your fault.”

He shook his head. “Noooo.” He grinned taking a bite of the chocolate he'd taken as a snack. You hummed sharing a look with Patrick who just grinned back at you. “I don’t know.” He hummed. “I seem to remember someone missing practice last week.” He raised an eyebrow as Noah gasped, yelping when Patrick reached over to ruffle his hair.

The boy broke into a fit of laughter as he tried to shove the man away but he was quickly overpowered and scrambled to the other end of the couch. His eyes were bright as he breathed heavily, a bright smile on his face as Patrick raised an eyebrow, his own smile growing.

He finished off his snack before turning to you. “Can I go play before dinner?”

Nodding you mumbled a small “sure.” A slight pang of dread ran through you at the idea of moving. Taking a breath you prepared to face the dizziness again but before you could a hand pressed over your shoulder.

“Sleep. I got it.” 

“Patrick…you don’t have to.” 

He shook his head. “It’s fine. You have chicken nuggets, right? Kids eat chicken nuggets?” He paused looking to the kitchen with his eyebrows drawn. His cooking abilities were...limited to say the least.

A quiet laugh left you. “Yes, I have chicken nuggets. Third draw in the freezer.”

He nodded watching as you lay back down. “Just rest okay? I’ll handle Noah.” He didn’t expect a reply as you relaxed back into the couch, your breathing evening out as you fell back to sleep.

Standing from his crouched position he groaned, stretching his arms. Grabbing the remote he flicked the tv off before placing it down quietly. 

If only you were this agreeable all the time.

He chuckled quietly to himself, who was he kidding he loved your seeming distaste for him. It made it all that more rewarding that you hadn’t fought him on this.

He knew he was wearing you down. He didn’t plan on leaving anytime soon either. Sure you may think he’d gotten what he wanted.

You’d slept with him a month ago and yet he still found himself wanting to spend time with you and with Noah.

Throwing a look over his shoulder he saw that Noah was nowhere to be seen. Leaning down he moved the blanket up, tucking it around your shoulders before brushing a hand over your forehead.

If you wouldn’t stop to take care of yourself someone had to do it for you.

He didn’t mind being that person.

[almostempty]

What’s Love Got to Do with It

(oberyn x f!reader)  wc: 4.6k | other fics 

note: hey y’all it’s me ya gurl, here to defile another prompt with a silly idea <3 Sooo, from the three brain cells that brought you fuckboy!joel and divorced dad rock dilf!joel 🫡i now humbly present …. Frat bro Oberyn, Aka The Red Viper, aka the Prince of Pong, aka the Slut of Delta Psi (i did steal the frat name from the film Neighbors—in which they do sing a line from Creed in their frat chant, so in some twisted way, they’re kind of all connected right??) 

I fear this may have just been funny to me so feel free to skip, but thank you to everyone who tolerates my shenanigans <3. 

ANYWAY, The lovely @baronessvonglitter bestowed upon me Oberyn x What’s Love Got to Do with It for fucktober (happy belated bday babe) but naturally, i made it weird. Thanks to @sunshinehaze1 for reminding me that modern AUs exist when I got scared of the GOT universe and to @auterdelabre for reminding me that the answer is always fuckboy. Don’t blame them for anything else.

Summary: You attend a fraternity toga party, and you catch the eye of Delta Psi’s notorious Red Viper. He shows you how he got the nickname and then he shows you something else he’s known for. 

tags/warnings: explicit 18+ smut, alcohol/partying, gratuitous flirting, piv, fuckboy behavior aka on to the next one, infidelity, i couldn’t bring myself to write his dialogue in frat bro™ –aka i didn’t fully commit to the bit bc that man just had to be smooth and had to fuck no matter what universe i put him in, apologies if that ruins your immersion in my pwp, per usual: no y/n, f!reader is able bodied otherwise no specifics, unprotected piv as if it’s no biggie because it’s fiction (don’t do that irl), no beta/limited proofreading sorry for all mistakes 

“Oh my god, that’s him!” Your best friend shouts into your ear as you walk down the sidewalk. You blend into the sea of toga-clad college kids, sandals slapping against the pavement. Liv leans on you, pointing out the guy she’s talking about. You can hear the music pouring out into the street and people inside yelling and chanting over someone doing a keg stand or something equally as exciting and alcohol-related, you assume. 

The guy she pointed out is leaning casually against the banister, letting some ripped blond dude entertain him on the porch. “That’s the guy your roommate was talking about?” you question your friend. Liv agrees with a smile as you walk towards the front steps. 

Everyone else on the porch looks like a frat bro wrapped in a wrinkly bedsheet, but for some reason, he seems almost godlike. He’s luminous under the warm lights. As if he knew you were checking him out, he turns his head just as you walk past, and his eyes sweep over you, making your face hot. Something sparks between you before he turns away, taking a swig of his drink. 

Liv had given you a rundown on what to expect at your first Delta Psi party. You had argued that you knew what college parties were like. You transferred this quarter as a senior, and you just didn’t have Greek life at your other school or your best friend to convince you to go out. But now, you’re here, dressed up and entering a party that really does feel a little more intense than the ones back at your small-town university. 

Liv’s roommate had given you the rundown on the guys she knew in the fraternity, but you didn’t pay much attention to her descriptions. You figured there was no way a Brad, Dylan, Connor, or a Brent would actually be hot. And then, when she started with the ones with nicknames, you completely checked out after Viper and Rooster. It has to defy the laws of nature for a frat bro that goes by Rooster to be able to find your clit—even if he IS hot. 

Yet, now you realize you might be eating your words because you get it. You were too quick to judge, whoops. “Which one was that?” you ask in Liv’s ear as you both make your way through the people sloshing drinks and dancing. 

“Viper!” 

You can’t help the immediate grimace that emerges on your face. “That’s so douchey!” you shout back over the noise before she pulls you down a hall toward that kitchen. She leans in close to your ear, telling you that her roommate swears she got the best head of her life from him. “No fucking way,” you argue. 

“Way,” she smirks back. “He’s got a girlfriend now, though. They’re, like, totally in love, it’s all over social media.” She mocks puking at the idea, and you share a laugh.

You explore the party together. The house is huge; one room on the main floor is blasting EDM, and another is blasting top 40 hits. There are a couple of beer pong tables in the backyard and a detached garage filled with stoners on old couches giggling to themselves. You know that Liv is itching to park her ass on one of those sofas and find a girl or guy to whom she can woo with her French inhale and makeout with for the rest of the night. 

But, she’s a loyal ass bitch who wouldn’t abandon you. You circle back through the house. You spend a little while dancing together and taking your time to see if there’s anyone else who catches your eye. Nobody really sticks out to you in the first room until you catch his eyes again. You have to do a double-take as you circle your waist and roll your body against Liv. 

He’s semi-shrouded in the corner; with the dim lighting and the packed house, it would be easy to miss the two of them altogether. But when the girl clinging to him turns around to grind her ass against him, he locks eyes with you, and you swear that fucker winks at you before a group of girls prance into the room, shouting oh my god, it’s our song! You try to shake it off. You were definitely just seeing things with the lights. 

You signal to Liv, and she follows you into the other room. You dance together a bit longer. She offers you a swig from her rhinestone-encrusted flask, but you turn her down, staying sober tonight. You feel euphoric enough with the strobe lights and the thrumming bass from the EDM remixes blasting in the room. 

You turn down a few wasted white dudes who try to dance up on the two of you. Too drunk. Not your type. Too handsy. You’re not afraid to punch a man in the throat or the nuts if they don’t get the hint, but they back off when you give them a gentle shove and a shake of your head. The most recent suitor is turning and scoping for another girl to approach when you see him again. 

He’s moving towards you, looking right at you, but there’s no girl on his arm–or crotch, now. For some reason, it makes you feel too hot. You’re sweating from the dancing anyway, so you ignore the electric look in his eye that makes your clit twitch and grab Liv’s arm to make a dash for the backyard to get some fresh air. 

You debrief with each other and come to an agreement. You tell Liv to do her thing, urging her to head towards the couch with the skater dude wearing the toga made from a dinosaur patterned sheet and the high-top vans. She agrees to text you if she plans to relocate or wants to leave before you finish taking another lap around the party. 

You sort of lie to her, claiming someone inside caught your eye. They did, but you aren’t planning to do anything about it. Instead, you part ways and head back through the house, past the pledge posing as a bouncer at the front door, and onto the front porch. The music is still loud, but it’s quieter out front. People still trickle in and out of the party. You stare out at the night sky, searching for the moon. In your own little world, you’re basking in your own peace. 

“I haven’t seen you here before,” a rich, velvety voice washes over your shoulder. It should make you jerk away, give you goosebumps, and raise your hackles. But, instead, the interruption stirs liquid heat in your core and makes your nipples hard. Because it’s him. 

You turn your head and confirm. He’s so close to you. 

“You know every girl here?” you challenge him. 

“I know the ladies and gentlemen that pique my curiosity,” his voice is so smooth. He’s a charmer, for sure. He offers you a drink, holding out two plastic cups in one hand. The size of his hand does make you tingly, but his smile falters when you shoot him one of your signature dirty looks. 

Before he can ask about the look, you take one of the cups, give him a cloyingly sweet smile, and pour it out over the railing into the grass below. The tail of his brow quirks, and he gives you a sly smile that widens into a grin and a full-chested laugh. “Oops,” you mock. 

“You’re a bold woman,” he muses, “I like that.” 

He doesn’t back down after you toss out his drink. He doesn’t take it as a rejection. He understands when you explain you don’t take open drinks from strangers at a frat party, but you roll your eyes hard when he gloats about not needing tricks or drugs to find a lover. 

He banters with you as he downs the remaining drink. He’s quick, with sharp wit and a devious smile. You can’t keep your eyes off his exposed chest, his arms, his neck, his eyes. It’s still confusing how he can look so regal, whereas everyone else in the party looks a little…goofy? Cliche? He pulls you back to the present, asking for your name before he gives you his. 

“They call me ‘the Red Viper,’” he gives you a provocative grin like he knows exactly how hot he looks, even with a bedsheet draped over his shoulder. 

You play into his hand, “Is that some kinda of euphemism?” Feeding his ego with a suggestive arch of your brow. Maybe you’re bold, but you don’t think he’s the type to be deterred by a confident woman. In fact, it seems to make him glow even brighter.

His voice lowers, dripping with an enticing challenge, “Are you looking to find out?” he asks. 

His jaw quirks, and you’re mesmerized watching him suck at his lower lip. It looks so perfectly plump and kissable, curling into a smirk as his eyes gleam with mischief. “Come,” he beckons for you to follow him deeper into the party. 

“I thought you had a girlfriend,” you say stiffly, remembering what Liv had said as you walked in. He looks at you curiously before shaking his head lightly. 

“You mean Cora? From earlier? She’s not my girlfriend. We were just dancing.” 

“No,” you shake your head, “I heard it’s all over social media. That you’re loved up.” 

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me?” he gives you that cocky smile that absolutely shouldn’t work but somehow makes you feel warm like you’re laying on the warm sand on a beach listening to the waves crashing. You don’t say anything else, and he leans in a little closer, “What’s love got to do with it?” he asks huskily. Dangerously. 

It makes you shudder with something warm and twisted. 

“Now,” he guides you gently but firmly, “Come.” You need him to stop saying it like an order before you do. 

You let him walk you through the party. Weaving through the boisterous crowds. They part easily for him, clearing a path like he’s royalty. 

“They call me ‘the Red Viper’ because I’m lethal at any game involving a red Solo cup.” He murmurs it into your ear like it’s a sexy secret. 

You laugh brightly at that, giving him a gentle shove. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard!” 

He gives you a coy shrug. “It’s the truth.” He leads you into the backyard, towards the beer pong tables. “I’ll show you,” he says just for you to hear. The string lights illuminate the yard in soft light; however, the mood is anything but romantic, with the drunk cheering college kids taking their drinking games very seriously. 

You watch, amused, as one team high-fives each other over their trick shot. At another table, both teams heatedly argue about “house rules.” 

“It’s the prince of pong!” one of his fraternity brothers shouts across the lawn. He gives you the most dramatic I told you so glance, and you mouth “lame” back at him. He calls ‘next game,’ and as if he were their lord, one table immediately clears out, forfeiting in a demonstration of fealty. 

“Ladies first,” he offers once he’s set up all the cups to his liking. He’s so arrogant about it, and it shouldn’t turn you on, but it absolutely does. 

You grin across the table at him. “You’re on.” 

He’s merciful at first. You land a few cups, giving you enough confidence to talk shit and tease him. But it rapidly becomes apparent that he’s a man of his word as he easily picks off every cup on your end of the table with precision.  

Despite your rapid descent towards a loss, you eat up his charm. His magnetic energy. He makes the rest of the party disappear when he looks at you. It makes your heart tingle and your pussy flutter. He’s a gracious winner, only gloating a little as he reracks the table and offers it up to other party-goers. 

“Alright, Viper, you won. You can retain your title.” You admit defeat as he slinks up close to you, ushering you along to the side of the house, only a few steps away but more secluded from the rest of the party. 

“And now, will you allow me to claim my prize?” he asks in his smoky, deep voice. 

Despite his clear intentions, you feign confusion as he wraps one wide hand around your waist and tilts your chin towards his face with the other. “I didn’t know we were playing for stakes,” you smile brashly. Your skin blazes under his touch and his seductive gaze as his eyes drop to your mouth. 

He starts to dip towards you, but you swerve away from him. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask again if he’s in a relationship. He growls softly, almost a purr, next to your ear. “What’s wrong, my lady?” he murmurs. The intimacy of it is heady, and your surroundings fade. 

You want to take whatever he’s offering, no questions, so instead you whisper, “Tell me your real name.”

He sighs softly before giving in and telling you his name. 

“Oberyn,” you repeat back, “that’s unique.” 

He starts muttering about how he’s an international student, but you’ve got all the info you needed. Now you don’t have to add a guy named Viper to your mental list of hookups. 

“I like it,” you cut him off before slotting your mouth against his and making up for ducking out of his last attempt at a kiss with your eagerness. He wraps his arm around you, and you’re transported. One large hand presses against your lower back, urging your hips toward his, and the other cradles your jaw, giving you a sense of stability as he matches your ferocity. 

You briefly wonder if you’d have melted if he wasn’t holding you so tightly before your thoughts are consumed by the sensation of his lips against yours and his tongue running along yours. It’s not a kiss you would’ve expected from a frat guy. It’s romantic and passionate, and you feel your body rolling against his, caught up in the sensation and intensity. 

You keep going, letting yourself enjoy the moment, eating up the flavor of him, the scent of him, and the throbbing intensifying between your legs. You slip one of your hands along the back of his neck into his soft hair, and he groans into your mouth. It makes your knees weak. 

You chase his mouth as he pulls back and looks into your heavy-lidded eyes. Sharing the hot air between you, it feels like a current is looping through your bodies, buzzing with need. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” he urges in a gravelly whisper. You can feel him hardening against you. His hand on your back is firm, keeping you flush, pelvis to pelvis, making you nearly dizzy. However, his hand on your jaw is gentle, brushing his thumb along your cheek sweetly. You still can’t help goading just a little. 

“What for?” you ask playfully. 

“To fuck.” 

It makes your cheeks hot. Maybe there should be red flags popping up in your mind, but you don’t care. He likes a bold woman, and you like a direct man. 

“Unless you’d rather do it in the grass here,” he tilts his head toward the ground. You act like you’re considering the option seriously, making him laugh before he releases you from his arms. “Don’t tease,” he says with a severe look, “It wouldn’t bother me.” 

Me either, you consider before deciding not to say that part aloud. You tell him to take you to a real bed, and he does. Swiftly guiding you into the house and up the stairs, past the pledge guarding the rooms, and into his bedroom. He spins around, pinning you against the door for another searing kiss. It’s more urgent this time. He’s quickly moving to your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your tender skin as you both greedily run your hands along each other’s bodies. 

Before you can get your hands under his toga, he’s detaching from you and sinking to his knees. He moves efficiently, bunching up your toga and asking you to hold it. Then he’s hovering his hot mouth over your mound before kissing you over your lacey panties. 

“Mmm,” he hums into you and traces the crease of your thighs with one hand, following the line until he’s softly running his fingers along the edge of your panties, the tips of his fingers barely dipping beneath the hem as he moves towards your core. You watch, staring down with your mouth parted as he holds your gaze. 

He teases you, running his fingertips along your seam over the soaked fabric, tapping and teasing at your swollen clit through the fabric as he watches your needy expression morph into frustration. You shift, spreading your legs wider, but he stops you with a large hand on each thigh. 

“Hold still,” he orders, and you feel compelled to listen. He pulls your underwear down and off of you, then hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading your cunt open. “That’s better.” 

You can’t tell if he’s talking to himself or to you. You don’t have a chance to ask before he’s burying his face into your soft, wet pussy. Your breath hitches at the sensation and one of your hands flies out to grab at the door frame to steady you, while the other one digs into Oberyn’s hair. 

He’s unbothered by your dramatics. Oberyn moves with enthusiasm, drawing his tongue along your slit and pressing into your sex with his jaw. His facial hair tickles at your tender skin deliciously and his nose grazes over your clit as if his face were molded to maximize your pleasure. He changes his strategy, mouthing at your clit and sweeping his tongue over it like he’s making out with it, with the same passion that he kissed you with outside and a moment ago. 

You can feel it starting to build. Your hip flexors straining and thighs starting to tremble as your breathing gets quicker and more shallow. Closer and closer and closer. He’s perceptive and diligent. Repeating the same tricks that make you moan and dig your fingers into his hair. 

You’re stuck on the precipice, so close but not quite there. Your eyes roam around the dimly lit room, the bed, the bookshelf, the tapestry pinned to the wall, the collection of cologne bottles lined up on the desk, the mirror on top of the desk–pointing right at the bed. 

It starts to frustrate you. Not the decor choices, but the tension and the building pressure. You squirm slightly, hoping the smallest adjustment will somehow bring everything into a sharper focus. You let your eyes close, letting the roar of the party downstairs fade, focusing on the pressure and warmth of Oberyn’s mouth. 

More, more, more. 

It’s all you can think as Oberyn stays dedicated to getting you off on his tongue. He sucks firmly at your clit before releasing you with a slick sound. He hovers, mouth fanning warm air over your core looking up at you. His eyes are lit with hunger.  

“More?” he asks in his deep, rich voice. 

You can’t tell if you were chanting out loud or if he’s somehow reading your mind. “Please,” you respond with a needy edge, “more.” You catch the sparkle in his eye and the flash of a grin. He works you up again, towards the brink, relishing in your responses as you whine with need as he resumes holding you in a purgatory of pleasure.

Mercifully, he does give you more. Oberyn grips your thigh with one hand, steadying you, while he swipes two fingers along the length of your pussy once, twice, coating them in your arousal before plunging them inside of you. The increased pressure and friction from his fingers pumping into you causes you to moan. It’s a lower register than your breathy panting from earlier, layered with satisfaction as you can feel the anticipation starting to crest. 

“Don’t stop,” you beg, “I’m so close.” 

He doesn’t stop, groaning at your words, rumbling against you. That snaps the tension and you cry out his name and a string of curses as your orgasm hits. He doesn’t slow down when your cunt contracts around his fingers and he doesn’t lose focus when you shake and writhe against mouth. Not until you’re pulling him off of you, oversensitive and wrung out.  

Oberyn stands, wiping at his chin before pulling you in close for another breathtaking kiss. He walks you back toward the bed and you fall into it, pulling him with you. You tangle together, frantically, you want him inside of you now. He laughs softly against your hot neck, sensing your frustration. 

“Shh,” he murmurs as you huff with defeat. He moves deftly, braced over you with one arm, and freeing his cock with the other. Your hands stroke up and down his shoulders and back, and you hook one leg around his hip, encouraging him. “You want me to fuck you now?” he asks and you whisper a yes that turns into a gasp as he runs his tip through your soaked center. “And how do you want it?”

“Hard.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, sinking into you deeper and deeper, and pulling back, all the way out, then all the way in. “Fuck,” he says to himself as he sets a quick pace, slaming his hips into yours making the bedframe creak with every thrust. If the noise from the party didn’t drown everything else out, you might be embarrassed to have strangers over hear, but you would be surprised if anyone could hear a thing. And, even if you were louder than the party, you could care less about being caught as Oberyn fucks you into the mattress. 

“Harder,” you goad him, hoping for more. To your horror he pulls out of you completely, but you swiftly find yourself flipped onto your stomach as he lifts your hips and enters you from behind. You press back, meeting his thrusts, bouncing off of his hips until he presses his palm between your shoulder blades. He forces your chest into the mattress, holding you still so he can fuck you like he means it, with enough force that all you can do brace yourself and ball your fists, twisting the bedding between your fingers. 

With your cheek against the bed you can watch your reflection in the mirror. It’s hot, even with your togas draped and bunched up, you look good together. It makes you grin. He catches you looking and turns, meeting your eyes in the mirror before watching your bodies. He grips your hips firmly and you can barely keep your eyes open to watch as he continues. 

He overwhelms you with his stamina, keeping up a pace that has your mind feeling blissfully fuzzy. He says something else before folding over you and slipping his hand around towards your clit, determined to feel you come around his cock. You’re so close already, it’s only a moment, a few more thrusts, before shuddering beneath him. He tries to fuck you through it, but you clench and constrict around him so tightly that he pulls out while you’re still moaning. 

You can hear the slick wet sounds as he strokes himself, cursing under his breath again, before you feel the warmth as he comes across the swell of your ass and your fluttering cunt. You sink, dropping your hips and relaxing onto the bed while he catches his breath. Oberyn squeezes at your thighs, offering praise you don’t quite hear, then he’s slipping off the bed. He cleans you up with a towel, but you remain still for a little longer, enjoying the satisfaction and the sweet ache from the intensity. 

“Take your time,” he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder. It’s gentle. You murmur a thanks at him before breaking into an airy giggle. It makes your ribcage shake, bouncing slightly on the mattress, realizing that Liv is going to die when you tell her you can confirm her roommates story. Oberyn doesn’t question your reaction. 

He pauses to readjust his toga and his hair in the mirror. Once seemingly satisfied, he turns back towards you, watching you sit up. “I’ll see you out there,” he says with a smile before he slips out of the room. 

You linger for just a little. Allowing yourself the privacy to revel in the sweet satisfaction of the post-sex chemicals flowing through your body. You let yourself grin while you check your phone to see where Liv is at. 

You take another minute, using the mirror to fix your own appearance, aiming for a slightly less obvious version of I just got railed, before meeting your own eyes. For a sobering second you remember you didn’t get a real answer about if he has a girlfriend. He sure as fuck doesn’t act like it, you decide. You shake off the thought. 

He might be a frat bro, he might be a piece of shit, all you know for sure is that he is hot, a good kisser, and he knew how to make you come. Three things you didn’t think you’d find in one guy under this roof. You give yourself a final onceover before heading out of the room and down the stairs. 

You don’t see Oberyn in the first few rooms you pass. You keep looking; he couldn’t have gone far. You’re barely finished that thought when you spot him in the kitchen. The sight makes you stumble, shooting a hand out to the wall to catch your balance. 

He’s leaning casually, with his hip against the counter, as a starry-eyed girl looks up at him, giggling flirtatiously, as she lays a hand along his bicep. 

It’s in slow motion. The way he looks at her hand, the way his eyes trail along her arm, over the curve of her breasts, and down her legs before flitting back to her face with that same sinful smirk you just fell for. 

Your shoulders drop. It’s not like you were planning your wedding or that you even thought a date was on the table—but you didn’t think he’d be on to the next girl before you made it down the stairs. 

You start to recenter yourself, reaching to check your phone again before you look for Liv. 

He sees you before you can mind your business and plan your next move. Catching your eye through the doorway. Before you can formulate a reaction, you’re stuck, held in his gaze. He winks at you again, only this time there’s no question if you were making it up. He winked at you and despite everything, it makes your whole body tingle. 

“I saw that!” Liv shouts into your ear, wrapping an arm around you. “You have to tell me what the fuck that was about. But first can we please get pancakes or cheese fries?”

You don’t bother turning back for a second glance as you follow Liv toward the front door. 

You must understand though the touch of your hand

Makes my pulse react

That it's only the thrill of boy meeting girl

Opposites attract

It's physical

Only logical

You must try to ignore that it means more than that

Oh, oh, oh

What's love got to do, got to do with it?

…..

tags for babes, but no presh:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy 

[milfhunter6698]

Star girl

Synopsis: You were a talented but underappreciated actress lands a dream role in a highly anticipated romance film directed by a well—respected filmmaker. Your cast opposite Victoria Neuman, an industry icon known for her powerful performances and magnetic screen presence. As you work together, unexpected feelings develop between you, you find yourselves drawn to each other in ways you didn’t expect.

Warnings: 18+ eventual smut, no use of (y/n), cursing, no describing reader’s appearance, explicit language, fluff, suggestive themes, a lot of angst, teasing, hollywood AU, slow burn, Acting, friends to lovers.

AN: Hello hellooo!! happy tuesday everyone, guess what? yep another Victoria Neuman fic because I ain’t gonna even lie and just say that I got over that crazy bitch, I’m missing her like crazy baddd. Anyway this is just something that’s been on my mind, heh… I dunno I mean who wouldn’t love a good Hollywood love storyline. It’s just something short, while I work on a few requests I’ve gotten, I’m gonna also be posting this on ao3 If you’re interested go check it out. Now as always have fun, and lmk what you think because I kind of have mixed feelings about this.

wc: 4.1k

You moved between tables at the cafe, balancing a tray loaded with coffee cups, sneakers squeaking faintly with each step. The place was buzzing with late-morning chatter, filled with the smell of fresh coffee and fried eggs. You’d perfected the art of pretending to be completely focused on your job, but every spare second, your mind wandered back to the idea of acting—your true passion, the career you were chasing even if you were currently only known as “the girl with the tray.”

On your break, you slumped into a corner booth with your phone, scrolling through casting calls, your eyes landing on headlines you’d read a dozen times. Your finger hovered over an audition listing when your phone suddenly vibrated. You barely recognized the number, but your manager’s name popped up on the screen.

“Hey, it’s really not a good time, I’m—”

“Sit down,” he interrupted, his voice breathless with excitement. “Are you sitting down?”

You raise an eyebrow glancing around. “Yeah, I’m sitting. What’s going on?”

“You know that big casting call I sent you on last week?” His voice was buzzing with excitement, a little smug.

“The one you said was a ‘long shot,’ right? Look don’t mess with me. You said they wouldn’t even look at—”

“They looked. And they loved you. You got the part.”

For a second, the noise in the cafe faded to nothing. You blinked, trying to make sure you’d heard him right.

“You’re not serious,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

“Dead serious,” he said. “This is the role. You’re going to be in a movie with Victoria Neuman. The Victoria Neuman.”

Your heart started to hammer. “Wait, Victoria Neuman? That Victoria Neuman? The one who—”

“The one who’s headlining the Oscars, the one whose face is on every billboard on Sunset Boulevard, yes. I told you it’s big.”

You gripped your phone so tightly your knuckles turned white. “But… how?”

Your manager laughed. “Because you’re good, that’s how. Look, they want to meet you this Saturday for lunch. The director wants to give you the rundown himself.”

You could barely process it. You’d spent so many nights pacing around your tiny apartment, rehearsing lines for auditions that led nowhere, wondering if you’d ever break through. And here it was, your shot.

“I swear… if you’re messing with me, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Trust me, kid. I’d never mess with you on this. So you better get your best outfit ready.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, a small, breathless sound. For the first time in months, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Saturday afternoon you stood outside an upscale restaurant, your heart thudding as you stared up at the polished glass doors. You’d spent nearly an hour choosing an outfit, finally settling on something simple—a black dress and a vintage jacket you’d found in a thrift shop. You tugged at the sleeves nervously, feeling a strange mix of excitement and intimidation. Your manager had reassured you repeatedly, but the idea of meeting with a famous director and talking about your role felt surreal.

Inside, your manager waved you over, standing beside a man with sharp, discerning eyes and a warm, easy smile. He was younger than you’d expected, dressed casually in a way that somehow made him look more important.

He greeted and you reached out, introducing yourself and trying not to let your nerves show. “Thank you so much for… I mean, this is just…”

He grinned, shaking your hand. “Take a breath. We’re all just people here, no need to be so formal. Grab a seat. Let’s talk.”

You slipped into the seat across from him, trying to play it cool as the waiter poured sparkling water into your glasses. He leaned back, studying you with a quiet intensity that made you feel both exposed and encouraged.

“So, I saw your audition tape,” he started. “You’ve got something—an authenticity that I want in this role.”

You couldn’t help but blush. “Thank you. I’m really honored you thought of me.”

“Now, I’m not going to lie,” he continued, “this project is demanding. The story centers on two women, past lovers who come from very different backgrounds, but they find solace and understanding in each other. It’s raw, emotional. We’re looking for chemistry, vulnerability. That’s why Victoria Neuman is the co-lead.”

At the mention of Victoria’s name, your eyes widened. You tried to hide your reaction, but he noticed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, the Victoria Neuman. She’s a big personality, but she’s focused. And demanding. Don’t be surprised if she challenges you—she does that with everyone.”

You took a deep breath. “I’ll… I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” He said, nodding approvingly. “I have a feeling you’ll do more than that.”

You spent the rest of the lunch discussing the film, the script, and his vision for your character. Your excitement grew with each detail, feeling a spark of confidence you hadn’t known you had. By the end of the meal, you couldn’t believe you were about to step into a project like this.

The morning of the table read was overcast, the gray sky adding to your nerves. You arrived at the studio early, clutching your script as you walked into the bustling room. People were milling around, flipping through scripts, chatting casually. Your heart thumped as you found your seat, glancing nervously around the table.

Just as you were trying to steady your breath, you heard a small hush ripple through the room. You looked up and felt your pulse quicken. Victoria Neuman had arrived.

She moved gracefully, exuding a quiet, confident presence. She was dressed simply, yet she looked every bit the star she was, her gaze sharp and focused. She walked over to the table, catching your eye for a brief moment before giving a polite nod.

Your breath hitched. Act normal, you reminded yourself, pretending your palms weren’t sweating. You managed a small smile in return, trying to look calm.

The director greeted everyone and launched into his vision for the film. “This isn’t just a love story. It’s about connection, about finding something real in the chaos. We want to capture those quiet, vulnerable moments, the ones that people don’t talk about but feel every day.”

When it was time for the read-through, you and Victoria shared your first scene together. You focused on your lines, but your heart was pounding as you read opposite Victoria. Her voice was smooth, effortlessly slipping into character, and her eyes stayed locked on you all throughout the scene, intensifying each line.

By the end of the scene, you could hardly breathe. She leaned back, nodding slightly, and then you offered a small, approving smile. It was just a flicker, but it felt like an acknowledgment—a silent promise that you belonged here, too.

After the session ended, you lingered at the edge of the room, replaying the moment in your mind. You were about to leave when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Turning, you found yourself face-to-face with Victoria, your name escaping her lips softly. “Is it?” she asked, her voice calm but with an unmistakable warmth.

You nodded, trying not to let your voice shake. “Yes. I… I just wanted to say, I’m a huge fan of yours. I’ve watched all your films.”

She gave a soft laugh. “Thanks. I know it must be overwhelming, jumping into something like this. But you were great today.”

Your heart lifted. “Thank you. That really means a lot.”

She nodded, her eyes lingering on you just a moment longer than necessary. “I’ll see you at the next rehearsal.”

As she turned and walked away, you felt a flutter in your chest. You knew this role was going to be life-changing, but you hadn’t expected Victoria’s presence to affect you so deeply. For the first time, you wondered if this film might change your life in more ways than one.

Your apartment was a mess. Scripts were scattered across your small, worn coffee table, along with half-empty coffee cups and stacks of notes. You had highlighted every line, each margin filled with scrawled thoughts and questions. Late into the night, you practiced alone, your reflection in the mirror staring back with the intensity you hoped your character would convey.

The role wasn’t simple. Your character, Lauren, was a guarded, impulsive complex woman burdened by loss. She had loved deeply once but had lost it all, and as you read through the lines, you felt yourself peeling back her layers, finding the pain and resilience hidden beneath.

You practiced your lines over and over, speaking them softly, then with anger, trying to understand the character’s emotional range. You kept Lauren’s experiences in mind, dissecting every reaction and choice she’d made, wondering how you yourself would react in such moments. You hadn’t had much in life, but you knew about chasing dreams, about feeling that endless mix of hope and fear. There was so much of yourself in Lauren—and that scared you. You wanted to do this right, not only for yourself but for the chance you’d been given to stand on this stage.

You arrived on set early your first day, your nerves a steady thrum under the excitement. The studio was a blur of movement—crew members rolling carts stacked with equipment, actors adjusting their costumes, assistants buzzing around the director with notes and coffee cups. Cameras and lights stood like sentinels around the set, wires coiled across the floor in intricate patterns you had to carefully step over.

You spotted your director in the middle of it all, standing beside the cinematographer, discussing the shots for the day. His voice was calm yet energized as he gestured toward the mock-up of the first scene. This was where the magic was happening, the place you’d dreamed of being. And now, you were here, not as an extra or a bit part, but as one of the leads. The weight of that realization pressed down on you, but it was also exhilarating.

“Hello there! Good to see you,” he called, waving you over as he noticed you lingering at the edge of the set. “Ready for the big day?”

You smiled, hiding the nerves that knotted in your stomach. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good, good. Remember, this isn’t just about the lines. It’s about Lauren’s silence, her glances, her gestures. Don’t be afraid to let the camera see that,” He said, his eyes filled with encouragement.

You nodded. Feeling the director’s words sink in, you needed to live the character—not just act her. You weren’t sure if you would be able to pull it off, but you were at least ready to try.

The first few days on set went by in a haze of new faces and whispered directions. You and Victoria had only one brief exchange about your first scene together. She had approached you with a warm yet reserved smile.

“Hey, I thought maybe we could run through this scene together. Just to get a feel for each other’s rhythms,” she suggested, her tone calm and professional.

“Absolutely. I’d love that,” you replied, your heart racing. You kept your voice steady, but you couldn’t shake the nervous flutter you felt deep in your chest.

Victoria read the lines with such ease, her delivery flawless, yet subtly different each time as if experimenting with nuances. You watched her, trying to keep your focus, yet every word from her seemed to pull you in deeper.

As you wrapped up, she nodded approvingly. “You’re good. I can see why they’ve picked you.”

You flushed, stammering a quick thank-you, and then watched as she walked off, her steps graceful, her confidence effortless. Just keep it professional, You told yourself. But as the days passed, it became harder to ignore the warmth you felt whenever she looked at you, a lingering gaze that seemed to see more than just your role.

When the day came for your ever first scene, you arrived on set early, going through your lines one more time. The scene was intense—a reunion between Lauren and Helene, two people who had shared a complicated past and were bound by emotions neither of them could entirely let go. You had thought you were prepared, but now, with each beat of your heart, you felt a new nervousness you hadn’t anticipated.

As you walked on set, you saw Victoria standing at the other end of the room, speaking with the director, who animatedly explained his vision for the scene. She caught your gaze and gave you a nod, her usual professional demeanor in place, though something about her expression felt unreadable—guarded, maybe, as if she was bracing herself for what was to come.

He turned toward you, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Hey, come on over. Let’s get you in place. So, here’s the setup: Lauren is paying an unexpected visit to Helene at her office, and she’s there because… well, that’s up to you. She has her reasons, but the scene hinges on that ambiguity, the push-pull between them. Lauren is bold, maybe even a little reckless, but we need to feel that Helene is barely holding herself together.”

You took a steadying breath and nodded, your nerves slowly morphing into a focused determination. This was Lauren’s moment to push, to test the waters with Helene. And in a way, it felt a little like you yourself were testing something—feeling your way through the strange pull you’d somehow begun to feel around Victoria. You couldn’t explain it, but it was there, like an undercurrent humming just beneath the surface.

Your director called for quiet on set, and as the cameras rolled, you transformed. You were no longer you but Lauren, striding into Helene’s office with a calm confidence, a hint of mischief in your gaze as you found Helene at her desk, pouring over stacks of papers.

“Hello, old friend. Long time, no see,” you said, your voice low but carrying a hint of hesitation, as if unsure of the reunion.

Helene looked up, startled, and for a split second, the cool facade she wore slipped, allowing a flicker of surprise and maybe even a touch of longing. Then it was gone, replaced by her usual detached, slightly exasperated expression as she leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Lauren,” she said, her voice edged with a mix of wariness and familiarity. “Not that long. Maybe a year?”

You tensed, responding instinctively. “A year’s a long time when you’re left wondering.”

The words hung in the air, and the silence that followed was thick, charged. You could feel Victoria’s eyes on you, not just as Helene but as herself, watching you, assessing you.

You let a slow smile spread across your face, the kind that was both playful and just a bit dangerous. You crossed the room, closing the space between you until you were just close enough to lean down slightly, your gaze intent.

“What, I can’t just stop by for a friendly visit?” Lauren’s voice was light, teasing, but there was an unmistakable intensity in her eyes that made Helene shift, visibly uncomfortable yet rooted to the spot.

Helene rolled her eyes, but her hands, you noticed, clenched slightly on the arms of her chair. “Last I checked, we weren’t exactly on friendly terms.”

Your smile softened, and you tilted your head, a touch of vulnerability breaking through. “Maybe that’s something I wanted to change.”

For a long, charged moment, you held each other’s gaze, a silent conversation happening in the space between you. Helene’s jaw tightened as she looked away, a hint of pain flashing across her face.

But Lauren wasn’t one to let go that easily. She stepped closer, until she was close enough to reach out, to touch, though she didn’t. Her presence was all-consuming, and you could feel your own pulse quicken, blurring the line between yourself and Lauren.

“Come on, Helene,” Lauren murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know I hurt you. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about you… that I haven’t missed this.” She let the words hang, raw and intimate, before adding softly,

“Missed you.”

Helene’s cool facade cracked just slightly, a flash of pain and frustration in her eyes as she stood up staring back up at Lauren, her composure barely holding. “You don’t get to say that. Not after all this time.”

The line struck something deep within you as she spoke it, feeling Helene’s hurt and resentment like a living thing. But Lauren your character, ever defiant, only leaned in closer, her hand coming up to brace against the wall beside Helene, effectively trapping her.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same,” Lauren challenged, her voice a low, urgent whisper. The tension in the room thickened, and you felt the weight of Victoria’s gaze, a spark of something intense and undeniable in her eyes.

Helene hesitated, her resolve wavering, her breath catching as her gaze flickered from Lauren’s eyes to her lips, the charged air between them pulsing with all the words left unspoken. But just as the moment seemed poised to tip over into something more, the director called, “Cut!”

You snapped back to yourself, blinking as you released the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Your heart raced, your skin tingling from the lingering tension of the scene. You let your arm drop from the wall, stepping back to give Victoria space.

Victoria straightened, her expression unreadable as she adjusted her jacket, her gaze sweeping the set before finally settling on you. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—something that looked almost like… admiration? Or was it something else?

“That was intense,” you said, trying to keep your tone light as you offered a small, slightly self-conscious smile.

Victoria nodded, a faint smile playing at the edges of her lips. “You have a way of bringing out the worst in Lauren,” she replied, her tone laced with irony but also something warmer, softer. “It’s… refreshing.”

You laughed, a little relieved but also thrown off by the words. “Well, she’s complicated. Keeps me on my toes.”

Victoria tilted her head, studying you for a moment. “Complicated is good. Makes it more interesting.”

The look you exchanged held a spark, something you couldn’t quite name but was beginning to recognize more and more each time your eyes met. It was as if you were both playing a game, one where the rules were unspoken, yet unmistakably understood.

Before you could say anything else, your director clapped his hands, calling everyone’s attention for a quick break before the next setup. You caught one last look from Victoria before she turned away, feeling the remnants of the scene still thrumming in your veins.

As you headed back to your trailer, your mind swirled with a mix of emotions—excitement, nerves, and the undeniable pull you felt whenever you and Victoria shared the screen. You’d always thought the hardest part of acting was embodying someone else’s feelings, but now, for the first time, you wondered if maybe the hardest part was keeping your own at bay.

You rubbed your temples, fatigue and excitement mingling as you gathered your things in your trailer. The day had been intense, the charged energy between you and Victoria in that last scene still humming under your skin. Just as you were about to head out, you swung the door open—and nearly collided with Victoria, who stood in front of the trailer with her hand mid-air, ready to knock.

“Oh!” you stammered, stepping back in surprise. “I didn’t expect—”

She chuckled, lowering her hand. “Neither did I, apparently.” There was a slight pause as you stood there, your heart beating just a bit faster, the exhaustion from the day melting away in her presence.

“I was actually going to suggest grabbing a drink. Somewhere quiet to unwind after…” She gestured vaguely, but you knew exactly what she meant.

You blinked, caught off guard but strangely thrilled. “A drink sounds… perfect,” you said, a smile slowly spreading across your face.

You ended up at a dimly lit, tucked-away bar, the kind of place you would never have noticed on your own. Victoria seemed to know it well, however, leading you inside with the ease of someone who valued privacy.

You settled into a booth near the back, ordering drinks and sinking into the quiet atmosphere. For the first time all day, you were free of the cameras, the lines, the lingering tension of your roles. Here, you were just you and Victoria, sharing a drink like two colleagues winding down after work.

“So,” she began, raising an eyebrow over her glass. “How was your first day of intense romantic drama?”

You laughed, taking a sip of your drink. “I have to say, it was… exhilarating. But definitely a bit intimidating.” you glanced at her, a little more openly than you might have dared earlier. “You make it seem so effortless. I keep wondering if I’m doing it right.”

“Trust me, you’re doing it right.” Victoria leaned forward, her expression earnest. “Acting isn’t about ‘right’ or ‘wrong,’ anyway. It’s about trusting yourself. You get lost in the moment, and… well, you did that today.”

You felt your cheeks warm, feeling simultaneously grateful and a little self-conscious under her gaze. “Thanks. Coming from you, that actually means a lot.”

You fell into an easy rhythm, talking about the movie, then drifting into lighter topics—the absurdity of long filming days, the occasional mishaps on set. Victoria shared a story about an elaborate costume mishap during a period drama that left her frantically trying to fix her dress just seconds before a big shot. You laughed so hard you nearly spilled your drink.

“Is this your secret weapon?” you asked with a grin. “Getting everyone to laugh so they forget their lines?”

“Ah, you’ve caught me,” she replied, a playful glint in her eye. “It’s all part of my master plan. Throw them off just enough so I can look that much better.”

You chuckled, and then, in a moment of pure spontaneity, you blurted, “Well, I don’t have your number. So if you ever need a partner in crime… or just someone to grab a drink with…”

Victoria’s eyebrows rose, a hint of mischief in her smile. “Is that your idea of subtle? Or is that just how you are with women?”

You felt your cheeks go warm again, though you grinned, refusing to back down. “Maybe a bit of both.”

She held your gaze for a beat longer than necessary before reaching for her phone. She tapped a few times, and your phone buzzed in your bag. “There. Now you have my number,” she said, her tone playful, yet her eyes held a trace of something deeper. “Just… don’t go spreading it around. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Oh, wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, matching her teasing tone.

You finished your drinks, lingering for a few more quiet moments before you finally decided to head home. Outside the bar, you shared a quick, almost shy goodbye, both of you staying just a bit longer than needed. You watched as she disappeared down the street, a strange blend of exhilaration and confusion swirling inside you.

When you finally returned to your small apartment, you lied awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The day’s events replayed in your mind, your thoughts wandering from your intense scene to the quiet, easy comfort of the bar. Every moment with her felt like an uncharted path you were just beginning to explore.

A smile crept onto your face as you thought of her teasing remarks, her gaze, the effortless way she seemed to fill every space she entered. You couldn’t quite pin down what was happening between you, only that something had started, and you were more than ready to see where it would lead.

[hoe4hotchner]

Bit of a fic idea (not necessarily a request). But what about a friends to lovers with Aaron Hotchner? Like they've been friends since childhood, she's a few years younger though. She was in the drama club with Hayley and is the reason the 2 met and she was the best woman at the wedding. But she's had a crush on Aaron for the longest time,t though always dismissed it as she valued the friendship more. She's Jack's godmother and is there for Aaron whenever he needs. She is a Sargent in the Marines, so gets the long hours Aaron does. She was deployed when she got the news about Hayley being killed by Foyet and rushed back as soon as possible. She didn't take another mission for a while after to be there for Aaron. Further down the line she considers maybe telling him her feelings but he starts dating Beth so she doesn't. Eventually she starts dating a guy in the army and Aaron is jealous though is in denial about why. It is only after Beth and him break up and he hears that readers bf might propose that he fully snaps out of his denial and confesses his feelings

That's such a good idea!!!! 💕 I don't know if I'll write the full thing one day but here's 1/2 and essay worth of thoughts I have about the concept!!

I imagine it would be even more heartbreaking and kind of a slow burn if you and Hotch knew each other before the drama club meeting with Haley. Like maybe you lived on the same street as kids and played together every day. And without realizing it back then, you were always meant to be together, because you just completed each other.

You would be a little jealous about Hotch starting to date Haley and eventually marrying her, as you had thought it would be the two of you one day. But since you value the friendship so much, you don’t mention it to him, just wanting him to be happy in the end.

The wedding especially hurt to be part of for you, but you pull through, keeping a smile on your lips as you attend, give your toast, and do everything you can to help. Hotch is so thankful for your support during the wedding.

You’re ecstatic when you learn about baby Hotchner, and when Jack comes into the world, you’re the first person he calls, seeing you as more like family than his blood relatives. And it might be the best day of your life (at the time) when Haley mentions they’ve been talking about godparents and then asks if you want to be Jack’s godmother.

When you start realizing that you’ll never be truly happy as long as you’re around Hotch almost every day, you decide to join the Marines, throwing yourself into the work and quickly moving up the ranks. And when Haley dies, you’re, of course, sad for Hotch, but somehow you feel kind of desensitized to death and don’t know what to say. Still, you drop everything and rush back to Quantico to be there for him—not so much emotionally, but at least to help him around the house and such.

Life eventually finds its rhythm again, and even though neither of you ever speaks about that time, you can feel something shift in him. But then Beth enters the picture. You see how his face softens when he talks about her, how he starts looking ahead instead of behind, and you can’t bring yourself to disturb that happiness. You tell yourself this is what you want—that his happiness matters more than yours.

You didn’t expect to meet someone else, but that’s how life works. You didn’t think much of it at first, but there’s a comfort in his company. Aaron notices. He doesn’t say anything, of course, but you feel the shift in the way his gaze lingers when you mention your boyfriend.

And when he hears rumors of an upcoming proposal, he can’t ignore it any longer. He shows up at your door one night. For a moment, you think he’s come with good news, but he only stands there, jaw clenched, his fists tight. “I don’t want you to marry him,” he says, and then, “I—God, I should have said this a long time ago. You’re more than just my friend. You’ve always been more,” he admits.

And then you kiss, and it’s really passionate.

[justmeinadaze]

Inescapable Part 5 (Steddie X Y/N)

A/N: Ok I have one more part left...I think lol I'm 90% positive I have one more part left but sometimes I type and more of a story flows lol

Enjoy!

Warnings: Convicts Dom Older Steddie (Sir Eddie/ Daddy Steve) & Fem Sub Younger Y/N, SMUT, dirty talk (all the dirty talk), trying to be quiet, praise, etc. FLUFF, they love her and she loves them, Steddie being good dads to Olivia <3

ANGST (😈)

Coming off the last chapter they are on the run, a guard is hurt (brief mentions of blood), the guys finally tell her what happened in 86 (slight season 4 spoilers), mentions of PTSD (especially with Eddie), Reader and Steve get into a small fight (very brief), brief mentions of Y/N and Olivia being considered hostages while they're all on the run, Cliffhanger ending! Involving an idiot from their past and they are prepared to let their dark (slightly toxic) side take over to resolve the problem.

Word Count: 6843

Inescapable Series/ Donate to Me :)

Steve’s eyes continually flick to the rear-view mirror as you stare out the window of the third car they had stolen on this trip alone. It had been about 24hrs and you still looked incredibly worn out. Eddie made sure you took all your pills that were listed in your chart and sat in the backseat with you to keep an eye on Olivia when you finally fell asleep. 

“Shhh… Everything’s ok, sweetheart. You just had to get here early, didn’t you? Were you worried about your momma to? Yeah?”, he grinned when his daughter cooed.

“Alright, I’m going to pull over here. That way we can all rest and get something to eat.”, the other man conveyed as he pulled into a hotel parking lot. 

After grabbing a key and hiding the car in the back, Steve carried you inside and placed you on the bed beside where Eddie had placed the baby. 

“Go ahead and relax. I’ll run and grab some food. I saw a diner next door and we still have some formula from the convenience store we stopped at.”

Nodding at his friend, the metalhead pushes down his baseball cap over his long hair he had pulled up into a messy bun and hurries out the door. As it closes, the loud thunk stirs Olivia as she begins to whine. 

“Oh no, honey, it’s ok.”, Steve tries to sooth as he picks her up and bounces her carefully in his arms. “It’s ok. Daddy didn’t mean to scare you. You have to be quiet or else you’re going to wake up mommy.”

After grabbing the pacifier and climbing into the bed beside you, he can’t help but smile as you curl tighter into him. This is all Steve ever wanted, a little family of his own. When they started interacting with you, his mind was always a buzz with fantasies of waking up beside you every morning or going down the stairs of a big house to find his kids cackling as they ate their breakfast. Coming home after a long day at the office to find you and Eddie working together to help the children with their homework and make dinner. 

Images like that fueled him as he used it for motivation to get through each day until they were set free…until your dad ripped that away…

Steve’s nose scrunched in anger as it ran through his body before his daughter sighing brought him back to the moment. 

***

“Goddamn it.”, Eddie grumbled as he tripped over his feet reentering the hotel room. Spotting you three passed out on the bed had his heart fluttering as he placed the food down on the table. 

You looked so tiny against Steve’s large frame as his palm rested on your temple while Olivia was asleep on his broad chest with her father’s protective hand keeping her steady. 

This is all Eddie ever wanted, a family. Something he never got to have growing up. Wayne was the only person in the Munson line that seemed to give a shit about him and he promised himself when he got married and had kids they would never feel unwanted. 

When they met you, he envisioned a picture-perfect life with you and Steve by his side with a bunch of little rugrats running around. He would take you somewhere outside of Hawkins where you three could start fresh and feel safe. 

Maybe that was still something he could have if you three made it where you were going. 

The sound of you stirring and wincing grabbed his attention as he checked the clock before digging into a bag to grab your pills. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Come on. Time to take this next set of meds and I got some food for you to.”, Eddie whispers as he takes your forearm and helps you to the table. “How are you feeling?”

“Hm…better, thank you.”

“Tell me about the birth. What happened?”, he asks as he begins sorting everything. 

“The doctor thinks it was stress that induced me. It hurt so bad, Eddie. Derek rushed me to the hospital and I was there forever. After she was born, I guess I lost a bit too much blood and passed out. Told you, she was a vampire.”, you smile as the man across from you tries to do the same but can’t hide his worry. 

At the sound of the bags jostling, Steve’s eyes open and the metalhead hastily scurries over to move Olivia so he can get up to eat as well. 

“Thanks, man.”

“She has my last name. I wanted to give her yours but—”

“We know, baby. Your, um, your dad told us.”

“Is he the one that gave you those bruises?”, you ask as you reach out to touch the other man’s face.

“Let’s not talk about that right now, ok? I called Dustin and he said he’s going to send us some things at a P.O. Box a couple towns over so—”

“I want to talk about it now.” Your tone is firm, much stronger than it had been these past couple of days. “What happened? What made you escape now instead of before? You said my father saw me leaving…”

Annoyance darkens their eyes but you remain unshaken as you glare back. 

“You were covered in blood. Did you kill someone?”

“And if we had?”, Steve snaps. “What would that change? Would you take Olivia and run back to your asshole dad? Turn us in and put us back where we belong?”

“No, you fucking dick. I just sacrificed everything to be here with you two so don’t you dare talk to me like that.”, you growl before sighing heavily from exhaustion as you lean back in your seat.

Blinking, the pretty boy calms down, reaching for your soda, and holding the straw to your lips that you eagerly sip.

“I’m sorry, honey. It’s been a rough few hours.”, Steve exhales as he tilts back in his chair as well. “Your dad showed up with some of the guards who are his friends I guess and beat the shit out of me and him.”

“He was going to separate us.”, Eddie added with a crack in his voice as he stared at the table in front of him. “He was going to send me to Indianapolis where my father is and Steve to Washington. Y/N, part of the reason we’ve made it this long is each other. We protect each other.”

“That first week we went in some guy jumped me because of my last name. Munson beat his ass and anyone else who even had the idea. Later on, inmates tried to hurt him to get to me because I’m soft…or so they thought… One night some fucker stabbed him so I did the same. No body messed with us after that.”

“If he separated us, Steve would have been hurt or worse and my dad with his own asshole goons…”, the metalhead shakes the thought from his brain as his eyes meet yours. “You’d have been trapped in Hawkins alone…”

“Did—Did you have to kill someone to escape?”

There’s a long pause in the conversation before Eddie finally shook his head.

“What the fuck are we going to do, Ed?!”

“I don’t know, Steve.”, the man replies with a flat expression as his friend manically paces in their cell. 

“We’ll both be killed and what about Y/N? She and Olivia will be all alone with fucking Derek and her asshole father!”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?! Just yeah?! In Washington, I can’t protect them or you! Eddie, if you go to Indianapolis, your dad is going to fucking teach you a lesson! I guess it doesn’t fucking matter though because as soon as they throw me in a cell up there someone is going to hurt me. The only reason I’ve lasted this long is you!” Steve feels his body fold into itself as he begins to really panic. “I can’t leave you or Y/N. I love you both. How am… I’ll be all alone… I should have just let the bats fucking rip me apart—”

As the boy spoke, the metalhead felt himself get steadily ramped up till he couldn’t take it anymore and rushed forward capturing Steve’s face in his palms as his lips crashed to his own.

“I’m not going to let that happen. I didn’t let you die then and I won’t let anyone hurt you now. Do you hear me?!”, he roughly growls as he tries to control the tears that want to break free. “You won’t be alone, sweetheart, I promise. I don’t care what I have to do.”

Eddie kisses him a bit softer as the other man nods and clings to his wrist. 

The lock to their cell slowly opens and both men prepare to fight before coming face to face with a guard they trust. 

“Come on. We have to move fast.”, Bobby whispers as he ushers them out with his hand and they hastily follow. After leading them to the area he allowed them to leave through last time, he paused and handed the long-haired boy a small knife. “Ok, you remember how to get out right? Now since you aren’t coming back I need it to look like you overpowered me.”

“Wait, can’t we just hit you or something?”

“No, that’d be too suspicious. If this is really what you want to do, you need to decide now.”

Both boys glance at each other before Eddie steps towards him and places his palm on the guard’s shoulder. 

“Thank you, man. For everything you’ve done for us and Y/N.”

“I always knew you were innocent and Y/N has always been kind to me.”, Bobby smiles softly before nodding his head. “Try and hit this side here. I’ll radio it in, in two minutes so you better fucking run. Good luck, guys.”

“It was so fast, Y/N. As soon as we hit the woods, the alarms started going off. I didn’t think we’d get to you.”, Eddie sighed as he finished his story, their eyes flicking your way as you started to cry. “No, hey, no. Don’t cry, sweetheart.”, he pleaded as he got out of his chair to fall on his knees in front of you and take your hands.

“This is all my fault. Maybe if I had listened to you and left with my mom or—”

“Maybe all of this would have happened anyway.”, Steve cut you off as he pet your head. “Your dad isn’t exactly a trust worthy man.”

“I love you so much and everything is going to be alright.”

“Yeah, princess, it will.”, the long-haired boy beamed as he kissed your lips. 

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

Three Years Later

“Olivia!”, you giggle as your daughter continues to dance around while you try to pull on her jacket. “Do you want to play outside or not?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, then you have to let me put this on you or else you’re going to freeze to death.”

“No, mommy! I no freeze to die!”, she laughs, her cackle reminding you of Eddie as she shows off all of her teeth and gums. 

It had been three years since you made it over the border into Canada with your convict boyfriends in the trunk and Dustin’s falsified papers at your side. You managed to make it to a tiny little town and create a new life for yourself that you absolutely loved. 

With their friends help, you were able to convince a small law firm that you had graduated from college with high marks. Granted it wasn’t criminal law like you had been studying but you were still able to help people and that made you happy. 

Eddie absolutely despised cutting his hair but to keep a low profile he did what needed to be done. Like Olivia, he tended to keep it longer than normal but as soon as it started to go too low past his ears, he went to the shop to get it cut. Because they didn’t want to be too far from each other having been in a small cell together for over 10 years, both men got a job at a car dealership with him in the automotive shop and Steve as a salesman.

Out in public, people called you three by different names but in your home you were still Y/N, Eddie, and Steve. The little dwelling the pretty boy was able to find was modest but perfect for your family with two bedrooms and a large backyard for your daughter to run around in. 

Thankfully for her, she never sensed anything was amiss when it came to her life and you hoped to keep it that way for as long as you could. 

After lifting her into your arms, you carried her outside where you watched her run off to climb her jungle gym. 

“Be careful!”

“Or what?!”, she teased.

“Or else I’m going to tell your daddy and he’s going to tell Santa you were bad!”

“Nu uh!!”

“Yeah huh!”

“What in God’s name are you two shouting about?”, Steve grinned as he opened the back door to join you guys outside. 

“Our daughter is being mean.”

Eddie kisses your lips before running towards Olivia who opened her arms wide to give him a big hug. 

“Ew, daddy! Smell bad.”

“Oh yeah? I know, we had a car in today that I’m surprised didn’t explode. How was your day, sweetheart?”

“Good. Mommy take me t-to work.”

“Did you two have fun?”, the other man asks as he leans down to give her a big hug as well. 

“Yeah! Mister…Mr. Jackson gave me cookie!”

Grinning, the three of you sit on your back patio as you watch Olivia play. This was everything they ever wanted and they were so grateful to be able to experience this with you.

***

“Mmph—fuck, Steve. Feels so good”

“Shhhhh, baby.”, the pretty boy scolds making you smile as you pass by the open bathroom door in your shared bedroom before throwing yourself down in front of your desk and turning on your bulky computer. 

As the years passed, both men seemed to open up more when it came to their love for each other and you absolutely encouraged it. You wanted them to feel safe and loved not just with you but themselves. Now that there was no longer the looming threat of prisoners and being hurt, they confided in you that it no longer felt like survival but genuine affection that they could now feel openly without fear of it being exploited.

Sliding on your headphones to give them extra layer of privacy, you did what you do every night and began double checking information online. 

That first year, message boards and police sites were full of information trying to hunt down the two escapees and their “hostages”. You assumed your father thought that would not only protect you from any prosecution (or embarrassment for him) but make people hunt for them harder if they believed they had kidnapped a baby.

As time progressed news began to dwindle and for that you were thankful. There was the occasional “sighting” but when you read the article you breathed a sigh of relief realizing it wasn’t even close to where you were. 

The feeling of fingers in your hair brought you back to the moment as you leaned your head back just in time for Eddie’s lips to softly land on yours. 

“Anything new out in the world?”

“Mmm…no.”, you grinned as you placed your headphones and CD player to the side. 

“Fuck me, it’s cold.”, Steve whined as he scurried out of the bathroom and hastily threw on his sweats with a long sleeve shirt. “How are you two not cold?”

“You would think he’s never grown up around snow.”, the other boy teased as he leaned his head on your shoulder. “One of these days one of you will have to show me how to use this thing.”, he gestures towards the computer. “Especially since Dustin and Mike showed Wayne how to sign up for email.”

“Is that safe?”, Steve asks cautiously as he places his hands on his hips behind you both. “I mean can they like…track who he emails to…”

“He may have a point. It’s ok. We’ve all had to make sacrifices to be up here.”, Eddie sighs as he tries to smile your way. 

“Baby, I don’t see why it would be a problem. All of our information is under our aliases so if they did look it won’t seem odd.”, you comfort as you place your hand on his thigh. 

“Naw, sweetheart, he’s right. I can just keep sending him letters without the return address like we’ve been doing. I’m, um, I’m going to go grab a beer and check on Olivia.”

After kissing your forehead, he sullenly heads for the kitchen and you rise to your feet to smack Steve’s chest. 

“Ow! What?”

“Steve, he deserves to talk to the only other family he has. He can send him emails under the Ronnie name. It’s not like the police are going to descend from the ceiling as soon as he hits send.”

“Y/N, you don’t think the cops will wonder why Eddie Munson’s uncle is sending emails constantly to only one person who’s supposedly NOT his nephew?”

“You’re over thinking it.”

“Am I? Or are you not thinking enough? Honey, we can’t afford to jeopardize—”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare give me that lecture again, Steven Harrington. I worry about our safety to ok?”

The man exhales heavily as he turns and throws himself into bed, folding his arms like a toddler as you stomp away in the opposite direction to check on the metalhead.

“And then Smaug flew over the people of Laketown spewing his fire breath…Roar!”, Eddie growled as he opened his arms and pretended to fly around the room breathing fire as you watched from your hidden spot by your daughter’s doorway. 

Olivia giggled as she clapped her hands and he fell to his knees beside her bed pretending to land. 

“The dragon felt like he would be triumphant but he did not expect…the bowman…” When he widened his eyes, she did the same as she hung on every word. “Bard stood his ground amongst the flames with the one weapon he knew would take out his foe.”

You and your daughter waited for him to continue but when he didn’t you peeked around the corner to see him standing completely still. 

“Daddy? Are you ok?”, Olivia asks in a small voice before her eyes meet yours. 

“Baby?”, you ask as you slowly enter the room and place your palm on his back. His eyes were glazed over as his bottom lip began to tremble. “Hey, Eddie, look at me.”, you whisper as you cup his cheek to turn his face. 

You had seen this happen before with both of them but the triggers never made sense. You originally thought it was the trauma of being in prison but a little while after moving into your home, you went for a walk to explore the town. Everyone was exceptionally friendly including a little old Russian man who told you more about the sea food store he owned near the water. 

Steve zoned out as the man spoke and when you tried to take his hand in yours, he flinched and tried to cover his face with his arms. You showed your daughter a lot of movies from your childhood and one day during a family movie night a bat just so happened to appear in the background of the scene causing both men to stiffen. 

You never wanted to push but you always felt so helpless. 

Olivia stood up on her mattress and wrapped her tiny arms around her father’s neck. The action seemed to bring him back as he gradually lifted his own limbs to hug her to his chest. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Daddy got lost in his own adventure.”, he tried to comfort as his voice cracked. Taking a seat on her bed, he placed her under the covers and smiled as he tucked her in. 

“On your ad-ventures, did you fight a dragon?”

“Something like that, princess. Your dad went into the castle and burned the dragon while he was sleeping while I used my sword outside to protect them…just like Bard.”

“Whoa…where was mommy?”

Eddie chuckles as his eyes flick to you before focusing on his daughter again. 

“Mommy was resting safely in her own castle which is good because daddy wouldn’t have wanted her to get hurt.”

You could tell he was still trying to keep it together when he bent down to kiss her good night and took your hand to lead you back to the bedroom.

“What happened there, Ed?”, you ask as he exhales and falls back first onto the mattress. “Where did you go when you were telling her that story?”

“It’s hard to explain, baby.”

Blinking, you make a decision as you grab your desk chair and wheel till your directly in front of them. 

“What happened in 86?” That grabbed their full attention as they sat up to face you. “I know you didn’t kill those people and I’ve never pushed because I don’t want to hurt you but it’s been four years and everything we’ve been through I deserve to know.”

They exchanged a glance you saw many times between them; two people who knew a truth you didn’t. 

“Just 86? Or should we go back to the beginning in 83?”, Steve asks in a flat tone you weren’t prepared for. “That’s when Barb went missing… one of the crimes I was accused of.”

“I… I don’t know. Just tell me what you feel comfortable telling me.”

“I don’t feel comfortable telling you any of it.”

“What. Why?”

“Because you won’t believe us.”, Eddie cut in. “And when we tell you the truth…you’re going to call us crazy, realize you were wrong, take Olivia, and go back home.”

His words pierced your heart and cracked it open as the tears stung your eyes. 

“Jesus… three years and you still think so fucking little of me.”

As you got to your feet to leave the room, Steve hastily blocked your exit with his body. 

“Y/N, the last time part of the truth came out, it was retracted and used against me to put me in prison. I’m…WE’RE scared.”

“Steve, I don’t know what happened but whatever did is very real for you two. I see it in your eyes when you both zone out or flinch at something. There are so many things I’ve witnessed and heard in your case that don’t make sense but maybe the truth well make those puzzle pieces fit.”

Gesturing with his palm towards the bed, you took his place against the headboard while he sat in your chair and Eddie adjusted his body to face you. 

“It all started when Will Byers went missing…”

***

They continued to stare at you as sat their absorbing their words after telling you their entire story. Your logic brain had taken over as your eyes fleeted from left to right sifting through information in your head that you had researched before you met them. 

“Say something, sweetheart, please.”

“How…how didn’t the fire and the mayor being arrested not give validity to your case?”

Steve exhaled a breathily laugh as he leaned forward balancing his elbows on his knees.

“After everything we just told you, I like how that’s your first question.”

“And they didn’t look into…hospital records…after you were…beaten…”

“I didn’t go to the hospital—”

“Ok but EMS took care of you!”, you shouted as you struggled to catch your breath.

“Whoa, Y/N. Ok, what’s going on, baby?”, Eddie tried to soothe as he reached for your trembling hands. 

“And…and you…you almost died…someone hurt you and they didn’t…didn’t…”

“Y/N, sweetheart. I need you to breathe ok?”

You began to sob as you tried to do what he asked but you were beginning to feel super overwhelmed. Not just at the fact that monsters exist but at the notion that for years unbeknownst to you there was a group of people keeping you safe and in return they were either killed or punished including the two men you loved the most. 

“Look at me, little girl.”, Steve commanded in a tone you knew well. “We need you to breathe. No, no. Look at Daddy, baby.”, he says sternly as he cups your cheeks. “There you go, honey. Inhale, exhale.”

“Neither of you deserve what you went through.”

“You believe us? Just like that?”

“Eddie, you both talk in your sleep. I hear you wake up from nightmares that you don’t tell me about. I see it in your face when something happens or when you look at Olivia. I may not have been there or saw what you saw at the time but…I see it now.”

“I’m glad you weren’t there. It’s…it’s an awful place, Y/N.”

“I wish I could have been there during your trial or when you were at the hospital. I would have taken care of you. I would have—”

“Shhhh… hey. Put the logic brain away, nerd.”, Steve teases as he pets your head. “You’re here now and it’s our job to take care of you.”

Nodding your head, your eyes glance down at the light scaring around his neck that you had seen so many times. Noticing your gaze, he takes off his long sleeve shirt and slides closer allowing you a better look. 

“The bites hurt more than anything…like little knives piercing your sides…”

Glancing towards Eddie, he scoots closer as well and takes your hand in his placing it on the scar near his heart.

“This one… The doctors kept saying how they were surprised I was still alive.”

Tears started to trickle down your cheeks again and the metalhead quickly cupped them in his hands as his forehead met yours. 

“It’s ok, baby. We’re ok. Everything…is ok.”

“I hate the idea of you both being in so much pain.”, you whisper. 

“We aren’t anymore, Y/N. Not that kind of pain anyway. We all know how sometimes Steve and I can be a bit rough.”

When you laugh the tension in the room breaks. 

“Yeah but you know I like it when you’re rough.”

Eddie quirks up his eyebrow in a teasing manner before capturing your lips with his own. As the passion between you begins to grow, Steve climbs in on the other side of you, bringing your mouth to his as the metalhead’s trail down your neck.

Their strong palms knead your breasts as Eddie’s fingers continued their descent down your smooth frame. 

“Oh…”, you whine eliciting a small smirk from his lips as his middle and ring fingers rub slow circles against your clit.

Your eyes close as your head falls back against the pillows, only opening again when you hear the subtle smacks of their lips interlocking. 

“She’s so fucking wet.”

“Mmm—fuck her with your fingers, honey, and make her cum. She deserves to.”

“Fuck…YES—”

As Eddie did what Steve suggested, you struggled to control the volume of your moans as his digits hit every sensitive button inside you that only they knew how to reach causing the pretty boy to slam his hand over your mouth. 

“You have to be quiet, baby. Do you need the gag?”

You shake your head and he tosses a smile your way before bouncing between your legs and tossing your panties by your head. Oh, they loved this game. Pushing you to the edge while you try not to scream from pleasure. 

While Eddie’s fingers curled inside of you, Steve’s lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves. Your legs tried to close around his head but his strong hands kept them still and open. 

“Fuck…please. That feels so good.”

“Yeah, baby? You feel good?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. So beautiful. God, your pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart, I can’t wait to feel you cling to my fucking cock—shit.” Eddie stifled his grunt in your neck as your palm reached down to stroke him through his sweats. “Reminds me…when you came to visit us…and I fucked your hand through my pants like this. Fuck, baby, all I wanted to do was bend you over that table and fuck you till you were screaming my name.”

At his words, your cunt clenched around his fingers as Steve’s tongue flicked and applied the perfect amount of pressure to your clit as the coil snapped. You moaned a bit too loudly and Eddie shoved your panties into your mouth to silence you. 

“Haven’t gotten better at being quiet though.”, he growled but when your glassy needy eyes met his he felt his resolve begin to break. “Fuck, how can I be mad when you look at me like that. You ready for my cock, sweetheart?”

After your nod, Steve moves out of the man’s way as he quickly slides down his pants just enough for his dick to spring free before finding home between your legs. You jump as he taps your nub with his length, grinning at your sensitivity as he guides himself inside your entrance. 

“Goddamn.”

The metalhead sets a steady pace as his hands find purchase on your hips. 

“We talked about this a lot on the inside. What it would be like to fuck you…”, Steve coos as he sits on his knees beside the bed petting your head with one hand while he licked the other before placing it around his cock. “Eddie always thought your pussy would taste sweet like you and your letters smelled. Mmph. Sometimes your perfume would still be on our hands from the envelopes and we would jerk each o-other off imagining it was you.”

The more Steve spoke the faster Eddie’s rhythm got as he repeatedly hit that spongy spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling. Falling on top of you, he removed your panties from your mouth but kept them bunched in his hand as he grunted into your ear on the opposite side of his friend while he continued to talk.

“At night when the lights were out—mmm—I would imagine you in my arms. Sometimes we would climb into the others bunk and grind our cocks against the others ass until…”

“Sir—fuck—M’gonna cum.”

The metalhead was prepared, clamping his hand around your mouth as he pounded into you.

Your whimpers turned to muffled screams as you were blinded by white and your arms wrapped around his neck. As your pussy quivered around him, Eddie mewled your name into your ear till you felt him paint your insides with his release.

As soon as the other man pulls out, Steve lifts you under your arms and moves you around until you’re on top of him straddling his waist. His large palms cling to your hips as you lower yourself onto his length, your movements stuttering slightly at the sensitivity of your last orgasm. 

“You got this, pretty girl. Take all the time you need. You just have to be quiet.”

“T-Tell me stories, Daddy, please. I wanna hear ‘em.”

Eddie breathily chuckled as he rolled over till he was on his back beside Steve. 

“Steve had never done anything dominate with anyone before so I would let him practice with me. Sometimes, sweetheart, when he would fuck me I would tell him to pretend I was you. Boy, did he have a filthy fucking mouth.”

“Y-You liked it.”, he giggled as his head tilted to kiss the man’s lips. “I would say how you belonged to us. How I wanted you on your knees choking on my dick. Fuck.”

“He would fuck me so hard, Y/N, I would feel him for weeks. Like a silent reminder that we belonged to each other.”

Gripping the back of your neck, Steve yanked you down till your cheek was between his and Eddie’s. 

“And that you belonged to us.”, he whispered as his hips thrust up roughly punctuating his words. “A quiet promise—fuck—of what we would give you when we got out.”

“Please…”

A wicked grin spread across his face as the metalhead pushed your panties back into your mouth before Steve covered it with his other hand. 

The obscene sound of skin hitting skin filled the room as he slammed his cock deep within you causing your eyes to roll as your head hung as much as it could. 

“That’s right, baby girl. You take Daddy’s cock. Good girl. I can feel it, honey. Cum. Cum on Daddy’s cock, Y/N.” You do as he commands, your throat vibrating as you tried to be heard through the gag and Steve’s palm. “Atta girl. Let it go. Ride it out for as l-long as you can. Shit—I’m gonna cum.”

The man’s arms wrapped around your waist as his rhythm faltered and he thrust his spend into your now overstimulated cunt. Fingers reached between your sweaty frames and removed the gag from your mouth. 

“Such a good girl. You ok, sweetheart?”

“She…She said yeah. Fuck that was good.”, Steve answered for you after you whispered the answer exhaustedly in his ear. 

“As always.”, Eddie beams as he starts to take you in his arms, chuckling when you groan. “I know, I’m the worst person. Come on, babe, you need a bath. Steve, you wanna get her some water and check on Olivia?”

While the pretty boy does what he asked, the metalhead quickly gets a bath ready and places you inside the water, smiling softly when you sigh in pleasure. 

“We, uh, we didn’t just talk about you sexually on the inside. I feel like I should tell you that.”

Your eyes blink as he sits beside you, now in a pair of his blue boxers. 

“What else do you two talk about?”, you ask as you lean forward and run your fingers along the arm he had resting along the porcelain. 

“We wondered how we would have met you if we hadn’t of been locked up. You worked at The Hideout and I used to play there. Maybe you would have seen me up there playing my guitar or you would have served me a drink.”

“You were a law student and knowing my dad I probably would have been working with him.”, Steve added as he entered the bathroom and sat on the edge as he handed you the glass of water that you chugged down. “Olivia’s still asleep… I probably would have run into you at the Hawkins Library doing some research for a case or something.”

“We’d definitely be self-conscious at first but act like we were a confident badass.”

“Why would you be self-conscious?”, you giggle. 

“Because you’re beautiful, smart, and young with your whole life ahead of you.”, Eddie answered as he reached up to caress your cheek and you kissed his palm. “We’d just be some old assholes—”

“Eddie.”, you scold making him softly smile. 

Steve bent down to carefully lift you out of the water, placing you on your feet to dry you off. 

“More than anything, Y/N, we talked about this life here. Living with you in our own little house while our kids wreak havoc.”, he chuckles as he focuses on his task. 

“W-Would you want to have more kids with me?”

When they glance at each other before looking up at you, you know they’ve already had this conversation amongst themselves. 

“Of course.”, Eddie murmurs as he carries you into the bedroom and picks up the other man’s shirt off the floor to tug over your head. “Of course, sweetheart. Olivia is so fucking amazing and you’re a wonderful mom. We’d love to have a couple more little Munson/Harrington kids running around…”

“But…”

Pushing you back, they climb under the covers with you as the metalhead pulls your back to his chest while Steve moves some stray hair away from your face. 

“What if we have to run again? What if we get caught and you’re left to raise these kids alone? What if—hey…”, Steve tuts in a firm tone as you sigh in annoyance. “Stop. Y/N, we literally fought to have the life we have now and we’d do anything to keep it.”

“We’re just worried, baby.”, Eddie adds. “There’s a lot of risk bringing another little life into our world.”

“I love you both…so much…I won’t push but…whenever you’re ready I’m ready.”

Both men smile at you as your eyes steadily close and you fall asleep.

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

“Hey Miss Franklin!”, the daycare administrator greets you as you walk in beaming through the front door.

“Hey Tasha. How was my little monster today?”

“She was good. Told the other kids her father fought dragons.”, the lady giggles as you playfully roll your eyes. “Let me go grab her.”

As your eyes scan over the children playing, you notice the administrator’s demeanor stiffen while talking to one of the other ladies before nervously smiling your way.

“Miss Franklin, Lily says Olivia’s uncle came to pick her up about an hour ago.”

Your heart drops as your eyes widen.

“Uncle?”

“Yeah…tall fellow about your age.” As she continued to describe him, the bile in your throat began to rise as anger clouded your brain. 

“Did he give you a name?”

“Uh, yeah it’s right here.”, she replies cautiously as she shows you the sign out sheet. 

Derek  

Speeding down the road and running every red light, you practically swerve into the dealership, sprinting inside to find the guys. Steve notices you first, his protective mode kicking in as he grabs your wrist and tells the front desk to send the other man to his office. 

“Y/N, honey, I can’t understand you when you talk fast like that. What’s going on with Olivia?”

Eddie hastily enters, the door slamming behind him as he steps forward to cup your cheeks. 

“What’s going on?”

“The daycare said Olivia’s uncle came to pick her up.”

“Who?”, he growls. 

“Derek’s name was on the sheet.”, you grumbled matching his anger. 

Steve’s office phone rings and he recognizes the number immediately, answering it and placing it on speaker. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, dada!”, Olivia shouts excitedly causing you to let out a sigh of relief that at least she sounded ok and wasn’t hurt. 

“Hey, honey. What are you doing home without mommy?”, he asks trying to sound calm. 

“Uncle Derek picked me up! When are you comin’ home? He wants to talk to mommy.”

“Baby, is he nearby? Can I talk to him?”, you inquire, listening to her little voice speak to someone in the background before a gruff tone pulled through. 

“Hey, babe. Long time no see.”

“If you hurt her, Derek, I swear to fucking God…”

“You must think so little of me. I don’t want to do anything to her. That’s why I tried to give her a better life with a better father.”

“Fuck you, you fucking dick—“, Eddie cut in before Steve grabbed his wrist.

“Ah good. Edward is there to or should I say Ronnie and Ben.”, he snickered. “Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?! Your dad reneged on our deal since you disappeared and my family lost everything. EVERYTHING, Y/N!”

At his outburst, you hear your daughter whine and both men’s eyes grow dark with fury.

“What do you want?”

“I’m at your house. Come here so we can talk. If you aren’t here in an hour I’ll take her back home with me to your father.”

“This was a mistake.”, you growled. 

“Maybe, Y/N. Maybe but for once in your fucking life you’re going to hear what I have to say. Olivia! Say goodbye to your parents.”

“Are they coming home?”, she asks cautiously.

“Yes, sweetheart. We’ll be there soon.”, Eddie answers her and his eyes close as he listens to her laugh. “I love you, Olivia.”

“Love you to, daddy. Love you, dada and mommy!”

The phone hangs up before you or Steve can reply.

“We have an hour…”, the metalhead says more to himself then you two. “I have guns stashed away a couple of miles from the house—”

“You are not pulling a gun with my daughter in that house.”, you hiss. 

“What do we do, Y/N? He’s not going to let us go and even if he was…he kidnapped our daughter. He’ll be lucky if he leaves the house still fucking breathing.”, Steve retorts in a dark tone you had never heard from him before.

“I’m not saying I disagree but I refuse to let any of this affect her. As far as she knows she’s a normal child and I want to keep it that way.”

“Then answer his question, Y/N. What the fuck do you want us to do!?”

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

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon @rockmusiciscalming12 @mikeyswifie @poofyloofy @eddiexmunsonlover @dreamliners @munsonmoonshine86 @bexreadstoomuch @kitkat80 @myherometalhead @hardladyheart @sheisjoeschateau @chelebelletx @yesimabratandwhataboutot @cherryxhaze @utterlyinsanity

[procyonloser]

Pt 5

Lucifer stood nervously on the stage, after Adam clapped him on the shoulder, winking at him. He didn't look bothered to see Lucifer, but Lucifer was bothered to see him. Why was Adam here, at the zoo? Did he work here and at the aquarium? What, did he work at the wildlife park too? The arboretum? Six flags?

"Okay, Lute, if you want to put Hoot away, we can start the demonstration!" Adam said happily, and the girl on stage with him shot Lucifer the most toxic look he'd ever seen outside of a courtroom, before she walked over and had the owl step down onto a stand. When she came back, her expression hadn't changed much.

"What are we doing, Adam?" Lute asked, not the most amazing actress in the world, but Lucifer didn't think it'd be a good idea to tell her that right now.

"I'm going to have you and Lucifer stand about a foot apart from one another, and then we're going to see what Sweetness can do." Adam said easily, leaving Lucifer wondering who the fuck Sweetness was. The eagle? Who named it that?

The gist of it was Adam was going to have the very large eagle fly between Lucifer and the angry woman, narrowly avoiding hitting them. It went off without a hitch, Lucifer felt the power of the eagle going past him, the gust of wind from it's wings, and it was weirdly invigorating to be close to.

But all Lucifer could think about was Adam leaning in to his ear after and whispering to him to come back stage after the show was over. He'd turned red again as he made his way back into the bleachers, beside Charlie, who was talking animatedly and at length as to how cool he looked, and how scary it must have been.

Over the course of the show, Adam brought out snakes and spiders and one fairly large cat, and a parrot that Charlie seemed to love. The show was a hit with the kids that were there, and they all got a little adventure coloring book for their efforts, passed out by Lute, who handed Lucifer theirs with much more force than needed.

They lingered behind after, until Adam poked his head out and gestured for them to come back around. Charlie seemed confused, until they walked through the door, and could see all the holding enclosures for the animals, and her eyes got huge. The Lute girl was leaning against a table, glaring at him openly, but Lucifer tried to ignore her to the best of his abilities.

"I don't work here," Adam said, taking Lucifer's attention off of her. He blinked in surprise, not knowing what to say. "I mean, I used to work here, with some of their aquatics, but then I got the job at the aquarium. But, I'd been doing this show for years, and I have friends here like Lute, so I still volunteer to do it a few times a week."

"As long as you don't think I'm stalking you," Lucifer laughed nervously, not knowing what to say, especially not in front of Lute. "Charlie loved the show, though, didn't you CharBar?"

Charlie barely nodded, crouched and sitting eye to eye with a raccoon.

"How about you?" Adam asked, and Lucifer nodded repeatedly.

"It was great! I love birds, to tell you the truth. It was too bad the parakeet exhibit was closed, I love feeding them on sticks. So does Charlie." Lucifer told him, and Adam hummed to himself.

"I can get you in," Adam said, and Lute sent him a look.

"Adam..."

"It's fine, relax Lute." Adam said with a shrug, clearly not caring much for her opinion on the matter, which gave Lucifer an odd sense of victory over the woman.

"You're going to get in trouble," Lute warned. "They shouldn't even be back here..."

"He's a friend," Adam said with a hint finality in his voice, turning to leave and nodding for Lucifer to follow him.

"Is that what they're calling it now?" Lute asked under her breath, but Lucifer had heard it anyway. What had she meant by that; and did Adam actually see him as a friend? Lucifer didn't fully know, but at least he had a good view, watching Adam walk ahead of him.

Lucifer laughed as Charlie was suddenly swarmed by about ten parakeets, as soon as they'd gotten into the parakeet exhibit. Adam had given her a few seed sticks, and the birds reacted in kind. Lucifer took a few pictures of his daughter, deciding one was most definitely going to be his new phone wallpaper.

"Hey, you want to go on a date sometime?"

Lucifer was so distracted by Charlie and the birds, he'd almost missed the question, but it sank in quickly enough, and Lucifer was left blinking owlishly up at Adam.

"If not, it's whatever, I just thought-" Adam glanced away. "It doesn't matter."

"Oh my god, no, yes." Lucifer breathed out, and Adam looked confused. "I mean, yes. God, yes. I'd love to. Pretty please."

Adam laughed at the tacked on nicety, grinning down at him as a parakeet landed on Lucifer's shoulder. "You're such a fucking weirdo. I like that."