#and for Phil well...he comes back tomorrow

[notreallyuseless]

1. I miss Philza

2. I miss Missa

3. I miss Chayanne

4. I miss Wilbur

5. I miss Tallulah

[eclipzee3]

˗ˏˋ 𝓐 𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 ˎˊ˗

𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆!𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑𝒅𝒂𝒅 𝒙 𝑷𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒑 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔!𝒅𝒃𝒇 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

˚ʚ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ɞ˚

•°`` 1.1k ``°•

➵tw for stepcest, somnophilia, basically dub-con, age gap, sexual comments, groping, cream pie, oral sex, threesome, lmk if I missed any. Super mean price, too!

Hide this post if you do not like the warnings. Please block me or do what you see fit.

You didn't exactly want to admit how you felt about it. Your fathers best friend, Philip, was a pain in the ass. Quite literally as well.

Every time he came over, he was all over you, and along with your father. And even worse, your mother's job had her away constantly. And it wasn't like you could text her. Not when your dad had to give you a phone and watch what you did on it before taking it back.

It was ironic given that he was watching porn all the time on his phone. You had walked in on him once or twice. You still weren't sure if he was really close or if he had come to you both times. You hoped for the latter, obviously.

Philip wasn't the brightest either, as stated. Whereas your father was with you all the time, every time phil came over, his advances were clear. Missing panties, bras, shirts.. you name it. Even your own jewelry? The worst part is he would tell you exactly what he'd do with them. And return them to you.. with their own new design. More of, covered in cum. Needless to say, those panties were thrown away. But you didn't have an infinite supply of the damn fuckers, so there you were. Sitting alone in your room with no panties and a tight little top for bed.

You preferred tighter clothes for bed since they didn't slide around as much. You dad didn't seem to think it was for that. It was surely just to turn him on.. According to him.

You had lost doorknob privileges due to talking back when it was really just you telling him about why you decided to wear tight clothes. He wouldn't even let you buy baggy ones. Said you'd look homeless every time.

So, under your covers, you were really just in a camisole. Just a baby pink shirt, nothing special. You were so ready for bed. It was the middle of the week, and you had classes tomorrow at your college, so you had to get your beauty sleep. Until...

You heard a knock at the front door, then a few clicks of the doorbell. You already knew who it must've been.

Fucking phillip.

"Hey!!" He shouted, seeing your father. You pictured the scene in your head since you were upstairs. Sulking in dread as you already knew what was about to happen. You heard muffled voices.. and then walking up the stairs. You saw your dad's silhouette through the small hole of your absent doorknob.

"Phil wants to see you, baby doll." He peeked his head in, and you audibly groaned. "No." You mumbled, glaring at him.

"No attitude. You know fuckin' better. Get up, you're saying hi. And just for that, you'll be spending about an hour with us since you wanna be such an uptight brat." He glanced at his watch before watching you instead of disappearing. You just looked back. Wouldn't he leave?

"Get up. You wanna test me?" He growled, walking in and getting closer to you. He hovered over you, his eyes staring daggers into yours. "If you wanna be a fucking brat do it so phil can see. Get the fuck up, y/n." He said in a yelling whisper voice. The type your mom would use when you were misbehaving in public.

Abruptly, he tugged your covers off just as you were about to say anything. No panties.. no covers. No privacy. He glanced down, taking a look at your bare pussy. "Oh so you're being a slut now? Is that it?" He said, rolling his eyes before grabbing your arm. "I don't have any underwear!" You protested, but he dragged you out of bed regardless despite you trying to fight him. There was no use. He was twice your size.. you weren't exactly a fighter either.

He pulled you down the stairs and led you into the kitchen.. only Phil to be there with a grin on his face. "What's wrong? Missing something?" He asked, glancing down at your hands tugging down at your camisole to cover yourself. Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment and anger setting in. You were flustered, and your own father threw you at a man whore. "Fuck off." You snapped at him, only to get a rough push into the counter by your dad, his body pushing you into the cold marble. "You will not speak to our guests that way, do you understand." He roughly whispered into your ear with gritting teeth before pushing off you after your little scolding.

You stood there, practically fuming. You glared at phil, only making him chuckle, his eyes drifting down to your pussy.. a little bush of pubes very visible, along with your pussy lips.

"Wanna tell Phil why you don't wanna wear underwear, hm?" John seemed to have calmed a bit, almost a playful tone as he glanced down too.. feeling a bit of blood rush to his cock.

"Because someone took all my panties and used them to jerk off with." You said dryly, eyes connected with Phil's as he finally looked up, tilting his head. "Wasn't me, baby. Must've been your dirty daddy." He laughed, only for John to laugh with him. Your dad's hand slipping around your waist before sliding down to your ass.. giving it a rough squeeze. "Guess we'll have to get you some more, huh?" John said, his hand leaving you to reach out to the fridge only to grab two beers. Despite being of age, you still weren't allowed to drink. Or basically do anything for that matter.

He passed the beer to Phil for him to smirk, tipping his head up as a thanks before he opened the cap with just his thumb. You were surprised he didn't have a deep cut of some kind. You guessed it was from all the shit he did over the years.. creating a rough callous on each of his fingertips. John did the same, for them to take a few sips, dramatically smacking and doing what older men had to.

"You just wanna stand there? If you need something to do, you can always start cleaning. Something a woman like you should be doing." He said, taking a quick sip before chuckling softly. "Or actually, a girl like you."

Fucking prick. You chose not to talk. It would only get you either having to actually do that or screamed at.. or worse. You shuddered at the thought. They both began to chat.. while you stood there awkwardly.. backing away slowly.

John didn't seem to notice. Nor care. So, you crept up the stairs, being sure to avoid the creaky parts before getting into bed, shutting your eyes. You prayed they wouldn't notice you disappeared, but they would eventually. You were just afraid of what would happen.

ㅤ/ᐠ - ˕ -マ z Z Z

"Wanna fuck her?" Phil said. He wasn't lightweight. He knew well what he was doing. What he was asking from your father. And your dad did, too. He wasn't dumb. "Why wouldn't i?" He said back, glancing at each other.

"Her fault for wearing that shit.." Phil cursed under his breath, palming himself as they stood above your bed.. watching your body squirm in whatever dream you were having. John's eyes were focused on your ass. Perked out as you were cuddled into yourself.. curled up. You said sweet little nothings.. soft hums coming from your mouth as your pussy soon glistened.

To answer the question.. yes. You liked it. You loved it. The attention was horrible, but the outcome? God. Your poor pussy needed cock. You were still a virgin due to your dad being a prick and not letting you lose it.. so your fingers and household items were really the best you had. And you couldn't even deny it if you were asked. You had wet dreams about fuckng yourself on your dad's cock maybe every night.

Your pussy was practically dripping. John groaned softly.. his cock perking in his jeans. "Fuck.. pretty girl.." he mumbled, bending his knees as he moved his hands to your ass.. rubbing it before sticking a finger in your tight little hole.. the warm wetness sucking him in. Phil was unbuckling his jeans.. pulling his boxers down and stroking his meaty cock in no time as he watched your father finger you..

"So fuckin' tight..." he rose from his position.. pulling his cock out as well.. moving down once more.. just now on your bed. You still hadn't awoke yet since your dream was also quite action packed. You didn't notice the dips in the bed where your father's knees had gone.. his hand guiding his cock along your wet folds, a grunt leaving his lips as he took everything in him not to cum right there and then. Phil hummed behind him, precum from his cock making wet noises as he pumped his cock.. grabbing one of your arms from where it was tucked in your chest before gliding it over his cock instead. Soon, both the men were groaning.. only fondling with you now.

John decided it was enough. So, he began to push his cock inside you, Phil now moving onto the bed aswell, on the other side as he rubbed his cock against your cheek. They were both getting what they wanted before your eyes began to flicker open.. Phil reacting immediately. He slipped his cock in your mouth, holding your head as he licked his lips.. eyes rolling back as he began to buck his hips against your tongue. You hummed... the foreign feeling of something prodding at your pussy making you mumble more.. little movements coming from you as you finally began to realize what was taking place. You moaned as your stepdad began to work himself in further, groans leaving his lips as you squeezed around his cock. You whimpered.. hands tugging on Phil as he lifted your head farther on his cock.. guiding you as you moaned around both of them.

"Fuck, baby.." Phil cursed. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this." He began to thrust into your mouth, your eyes widening as you gagged and choked on his girth. He was huge.. you could feel how slimy his cock was from his precum.. and even better, your daddy was thrusting into you at the same time, cock covered in your sticky arousal as lube. He began to spoon you, rutting up into your core as you moaned, his hand reaching around to play with your clit at the same time.

"So tight, princess.. love this big ol' cock dontcha' babe.." he purred into your ear, quickening his pace as he groaned and bit at your neck.. Phil bruising your throat at the same time. John knew you were helpless. He knew you were just a little toy for him now.. and he fucking loved it.

He thrusted and thrusted, finger quickening on your sensitive bud as Phil began to slow down.. sloppy thrusts following as he quickly pulled out of your mouth, pumping his cock quickly.. "fuckfuckfuck.. cmon.. fuck.. baby.." His feet scrunched as you moaned on your daddy's cock, little whimpers leaving you as you closed your eyes.. Phil shooting cum all over your face.. the gooey white substance dripping from his tip as he groaned.. swallowing hard as he watched John practically pound into your pussy as he sucked on your neck. "Gonna ruin this pretty pussy.." He said, voice rough and gravelly as he tried to keep his composure inside you.. his free hand going under you and slipping beneath your shirt to cup your tit.. pinching your nipples.

"Fuck! Ah.. too much!" You whined.. shorted breaths leaving you as you reached down to play with your clit.. your breath quickening as you came closer and closer to the edge.

"Gonna cum? Gonna cum all over step daddy's cock?" He grunted, obviously close himself as he kept going steadily, your clit burning with heat as you finally came.. short gasps leaving you as you whimpered.. mumbling yes over and over again as you father came quickly after cock pushed up into your cervix as he came.. hips jolting as he hummed.. "ur' pussy belongs to me, doll.. daddy's girl.."

He had filled you to the brim with his cum.. eventually pulling out only for the cum to ooze out of you.. body shaking as you gasped.. feeling the absence of your dad's cock as you drifted back to sleep..

"Never getting a filling that good from anyone else.." he whispered, kissing your forehead as he presumably got dressed with Phil... leaving you to your dreams as you slept.

This took so unbelievably long to make. It looks so short, too 😭. I hope you enjoyed it!! lmk if you want a part 2 maybe?? If this gets traction maybe but idk I'm not gonna like waste time if it's not gonna be enjoyed yknow 🤧

༊*·˚

[messedupfan]

Chapter 7

Summary: Wanda receives a notice from the Homeowners Association. Y/n goes on a first date with Daisy. And Rachel has her first secret from her parents.

A/N: Yay! Another chapter!! So happy to be writing for this series again. Ugh it was a rough few months but I'm finally getting back on track! Hope y'all enjoy this chapter! Please lemme know in the comments! Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | All Chapters ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Wanda mutters to herself as she reads the letter that was taped to her front door. With everything going on, this has to be the cherry on top. She hates living under a homeowners association. She submitted a thorough request for the expansion that she thought was going to get the approval from them. But instead, she was given a rejection with a notice that someone from the association was going to drop by to review the damage and give her a deadline to have it fixed with the original blueprints. She can't even add windows. 

She calls Pietro as she angrily gets into her car to update him in the bad news. “I fucking hate that place,” Pietro says. “Alright well, you tried. I will let Y/n know and cancel a few orders for materials. I'm sorry they rejected you,” Pietro sighs on his end. 

“Thank you for all of your help,” she ends the call and continues driving to pick up her boys from their sleepover.

Pietro calls you through the radio to meet him at his office whenever you have a chance. You let him know that you will and when your lunch break comes around, you head to his trailer. You're curious as to why he would need to talk to you. The construction team is ahead of schedule and as far as you know, way under budget. Then you think that maybe Wanda told him about your sleepover and worry that he might've misunderstood his sister. 

You knock on the door to his onsite office and he shouts that the door is unlocked. You open the door and climb in. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah,” he shuts his laptop to focus on you and you begin to worry that he's going to tell you to stay away or something. “Wanda's request for the expansion wasn't approved. We have to undo all of the work we started and put it back the way it was.” 

You're relieved that the chat isn't about your night but you're upset by the news. “She can't fight back on this?” You ask as you think of the ways that Wanda could get what she wants. 

“She could, but it didn't sound like she had the energy to. And since we don't own the home there's nothing we can do about it.” Pietro explains. You nod with a deep breath and tell him that it sucks before leaving the office promising that you'll see him tomorrow. 

After work you send Wanda a quick text letting her know what you think about the situation. When she doesn't respond, you assume it's because she's busy with the boys. Instead of checking your phone every five seconds, you get ready for your date. You shower and put on the nicest clothes that you own. You spend time making sure your hair looks perfect and smelling good. 

You drive to the address that Daisy gave you, it isn't Phil's house and you're curious why she's staying somewhere else but when she gets in the car she explains that she doesn't want her dad to know anything about her dating life unless it's someone worth mentioning. “That's pretty much what any single parent does,” you say with a small laugh. 

“I know, my friend comes from a broken home. I just thought after a few bad attempts of bringing people to meet my parents it would be best to have my own place when I was in the position to do so.” Daisy says as she fixes her makeup in the sun visor mirror. “You look amazing by the way. I had no idea that you cleaned up so well.” 

You smile as you take a moment to look at her during the stop light. “Thank you, I try. You are stunning, Daisy. I think I might lose you at some point tonight. I don't know how anyone will be able to look at anything else.” 

Daisy tries to hide her blush as she holds a seriousness in her eyes, “I don't care about anyone else. I only want your attention.” You start to lean in to kiss her but the car behind you honks the horn and you realize that the light is green. “Keep your eyes on the road. Wouldn't want to end up in the hospital on our first date.” She places her hand on your thigh, startling you, and squeezes. 

“Woah,” you say as you take her wrist and pull her hand off of you. Instead you hold it in your hand and drive with the other. “How was your day?” you ask in order to start some sort of conversation. The two of you find something to talk about the entire way to the restaurant, easing the nerves that had been eating at the both of you. 

When you're seated you notice a couple of guys looking over at your table but you don't think much of it. “Oh this pasta sounds good but so does this one,” Daisy says as she points them out on the menu in front of you.

“They do sound pretty appetizing. How about I order one and you order the other and we split it, so we can try both?” You suggest.

Daisy scrunches her face and denies the idea. “Actually, I think I'm going to get the steak,” she says as she browses the menu more. You nod and start to look for something else on the menu. 

After the both of you have ordered you're left staring at each other, sipping your drinks. “Can I ask why you wanted to go out with a single parent?” You finally pose the question that has been haunting you since last night. 

“I have always kind of wanted to date you,” she shrugs. “You’re good looking, kind, funny, wise, and have a good heart. What more could a girl ask for?” 

You fail at hiding the affect her words have on you and grin as you shake your head. “That is a really sweet answer but I'm trying to figure out what you want from dating me. I mean, I have a daughter and she will always be my number one priority. I know that many people aren't okay with that and-” 

“I’m not one of them,” she interrupts as she lays her hand on the table top for you to take. You place your hand on her wrist and the two of you hold each other like this from across the table. “I’ve met Rachel. You've had me babysit her in the past. She's a great kid and I love her. I don't blame you for putting her first. In fact, I respect you for it.” 

You fill with relief at her words and nod, “Thank you, I just wasn't sure. I mean, you're in your early twenties. You should be young and free and not dating someone like me.” 

Daisy shakes her head, “You're not some decrepit person that can't leave the nursing home. You're still young and free and in your twenties. I don’t know what you think people my age do but I've dated plenty of them. None of them want a real connection outside of physical. Honestly, I'm ready to start thinking about settling down with someone. Build a life, y'know?”

You nod and bite your tongue to keep from pointing out how young she is to start thinking about that stuff. You're in no position to say anything because you don't regret the decisions you've made and you know that at eighteen you wouldn't hear that kind of advice. By twenty-two you probably still wouldn't have listened. 

Halfway through what turns out to be a quiet meal, you excuse yourself to the restroom to give yourself some space and a pep talk to stop being so awkward. While you're exiting, your phone starts ringing and you answer when you see that it's Wanda. “Hey you,” you greet as you lean on the wall near the door. “How's your night going?”

“It’s going alright,” Wanda says as she puts the clean dishes away. “Did Pietro already tell you?” 

“Yeah,” you say sadly. Someone asks if there’s a line and you shake your head and point to the phone. You move a little further away from the door. “How bummed are you about it?” 

Wanda sighs, “Pretty bummed but the boys are home tonight so I can’t drink about it. Which is for the best. Don’t want to start that bad habit.” She starts to wipe down her counters. “What are you up to?” 

“Nothing much, just having dinner with an old friend,” you say as you glance around the wall to see if Daisy is okay. She looks bored and picks up her phone. 

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry for interrupting,” Wanda says. 

“Don’t be,” you assure her, “I could have not answered, you know? It’s not your fault.”

“That’s true,” she drags out the word in confusion. “Do you need me to come up with an excuse for you? I can have you out of there so fast, no questions asked.” 

You laugh at the offer, “No, it’s uh, it’s going.” You notice Daisy checking her watch and looking around the restaurant. You sigh as you figure that you’ve been away for too long. Are you avoiding her? You don’t know. “Which I probably should too. I think I’ve been gone too long, I don’t want her to think I’ve ditched her.” 

“Oh my goodness! You’re on a date!” Wanda gasps loudly. “You’re an idiot, go back to her. Don’t tell her you took a phone call either. Just say it was an embarrassing bathroom issue or something just… shit, hang up already!” 

You can’t help but laugh at Wanda as she rambles on, “Arlight, I’ll tell her all about my explosive bathroom episode.” Wanda makes a noise but tells you that it's perfect. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say as you end the call and walk back to the table. You feel guilty when Daisy’s eyes shine with relief and so you start rubbing your stomach. “I don’t want to be gross but that food went right through me!” You joke and Daisy laughs telling you that it’s fine. “So, are you thinking about having dessert here or should we go somewhere else?” 

Daisy hums in thought and reaches across the table for your hand which you allow her to take, “Depends, do you have any dessert at your place?” she asks flirtatiously, almost causing you to have a coughing fit. 

You clear your throat a couple of times as you start to avoid her gaze a bit in order to come up with a proper response. An easy let down that will have her laughing instead of feeling rejected. “Well, I don’t know whatever lies Steve might have told you, but I don’t put out on the first date.” Daisy is confused for a second before she bursts out laughing. You join her a little as you’re able to look at her again. 

“Ok, I have to admit. I was kind of testing you with that question and you passed with flying colors,” she says once she has settled down, you let her know that it’s a relief. “I’ve heard of this twenty-for seven cupcake ATM machine and I’ve been dying to try it but haven’t had the chance. Do you think we could do that?”

“Absolutely! Rachel loves that thing,” you say as you start to flag down the waiter to get some to-go boxes for the rest of the food on yours and hers plates. When the bill is settled, you and Daisy head over to the nearest cupcake ATM and you help her learn how to use the machine. She takes videos to share on her social media and even a few pictures with you to keep for herself. You don’t ask why she doesn’t post them because you’re happy to not have that conversation right now. The two of you walk and talk while you eat your cupcakes. She is a bit more relaxed and you have to admit that so are you. 

When the date has come to an end, you walk her to her door and wish her a goodnight. “Wait,” she stops you from leaving. “I know you don’t put out on a first date, except for Steve Rogers apparently,” you laugh a little at her statement. “But um, gosh I’ve never had to ask this before.” Daisy blinks a few times before gathering up the courage to ask, “Will you kiss me before you leave?” 

You are surprised by the request but it is a date after all. “Yeah, sorry,” you say as you step closer to her. This was weird, you’ve never been asked to kiss someone unless there was tension and right now there wasn’t any. You close your eyes as you lean in and kiss her on the lips. It turns out to be a decent kiss but it doesn’t have you craving more. It’s been a long time since you’ve craved someone. At this point you’re convinced it’s just you because Daisy goes in for more when you try to break away. You kiss her once more to try and clear your head but it still doesn't feel right, so you really take a step back. “I have an early day tomorrow, I’m sorry. I’ll let you know when I’m available next.” 

“Okay, yeah,” Daisy nods as she wipes her lips. “I’ll see you then. Or maybe you could stop by the Hub. We don't always have to see each other for dates, you know.” You agree and say that you'll try to stop by without promising too much. “Have a good week with Rachel.” She says with a sweet smile. 

“Thank you, I will,” you smile back and walk away. 

The next morning you go to Jean’s house to pick up Rachel. While you're waiting, you chat with Jean for a bit about nothing important until you notice her acting a little funny. You ask her what's up. “Nothing, nothing, I don't know anything about anything.”

You shake your head and ask in a low tone to keep Rachel from hearing, “Great, who told you about my date?” 

“No one,” she says as she fails to hold back her grin and you ask again. “Okay, it was Anna,” she confesses. You drop your head as you shake it again. “In her defense, it's your fault that you chose my favorite restaurant to take her to.” 

“Excuse you, I believe I won that restaurant in the divorce,” you say back lightly instead of reminding her that it was your favorite restaurant first. 

“Whatever, I was craving it last night and so we got a pick up order and she saw you when she was picking it up,” Jean finished the story. “She’s cute,” she says next and you take a slow breath. 

“She took a picture?” you rub your face, upset by the lack of privacy in your life lately. You never signed up to be a celebrity. 

“What? You think I was just going to believe her when she said that? I needed proof!” Jean exclaims, causing you to tell her to quiet down. “Sorry,” she grimaces. The both of you wait to hear any sign of Rachel before continuing. “So, how'd it go?”

“It went,” you reply. 

Jean rolls her eyes, “Come on, you can do better than that!” 

You sigh and sit up as you think about how to describe the date to your ex-wife. “It was good. A little bit awkward. She’s had a crush on me since she was seventeen, so it's-” 

“Hold on what,” Jean stops you with concern and fear in her eyes. 

“Oh! Sorry, she's twenty-two, completely legal. Um, remember Phil's daughter? She used to babysit Rach before she went off to college?” You try to jog Jean’s memory and it takes her a second to process. She pulls her phone out to look at the picture again and she starts to finally recognize her. 

“Oh?” she says as she straightens up and scowls at the picture. “She looks… grown up,” she says slowly. 

“Yeah well, she asked me out and Kate kind of encouraged me to say yes. Then I talked to Phil about it and he seemed to be somewhat okay about it,” you clear your throat as you shift uncomfortably from the lack of playfulness from Jean. “It’s not weird… is it?” 

Jean shakes her head, “Just, please tell me that you didn't find her attractive when we had her babysit for us when we were doing couples therapy.” 

You pinch your eyebrows together and frown, a little offended by the accusation. “I didn't know her when we were married,” you state first as you try to remember that first year that you worked at the bar. You know that you started there at twenty-one but you don't remember hiring Daisy then or even meeting her. Did you?  

“Well, that's kind of a relief, ” Jean mutters. “You got the job working for her dad to help us pay the therapy bills remember? And he offered for Daisy to watch Rachel when we needed,” now she is trying to jog your memory but as you've pointed out before, you don't really like to think back on that year. You shake your head as you come up blank. Is Daisy a year younger than you originally thought she was when you met her? The math isn't really holding up here. 

“That doesn't make sense, she said that she had a crush on me when she was seventeen. When we met,” you say. “She would be twenty-one now if we met when I was twenty-one.” You try to understand what Jean is saying. 

“Honey, her birthday is July second, she turned twenty-two only weeks ago. And you’ll be turning…” she draws out the end to let you catch up. 

“Twenty-eight this year,” you conclude as it all starts to make sense now. “Huh, I really should have paid more attention in school.” Jean laughs because she tried every year to get you to focus more on school instead of her or the next get rich fast scheme you always had cooking up. “Anyway, I wasn’t paying attention to her in that way back then, I promise. It’s still kind of hard for me to think of her in that way. Except it’s not like I still see her as a kid I just think I see her as more of a friend,” you explain. 

Jean nods, “So it didn’t go well.” 

“I wouldn’t,” before you can say anything else, Rachel is running towards you with the things she wanted to bring with her. “Hey, munchkin!” You rise and greet her with a tight hug. She hugs you back just as tight and it warms your heart knowing that your daughter loves you. “Are you ready? Because we have to get to Ms. Wanda’s a little earlier today.” 

“Yup, all ready! I have something I really want to show Billy and Tommy,” she says as she moves her bag around. “That’s what took me so long. Sorry, I needed to get it done before we left. I’ve been working on it all week.” You smile, impressed that she worked all week on something to show her friends. 

“It’s okay, I got to catch up with mommy,” you say as you tug one of the shoulder straps on her bag. “Do I get to see what you made?” 

“No,” she shakes her head before she turns around and opens the front door. “Let’s go!” She hops to your work truck and climbs in. 

You laugh and look at Jean, “Have you seen it?” 

She shakes her head, “Nope, she wouldn’t let me or Anna in her room because of it.” 

“Wow,” you look at her from the entryway of the home and she is sticking her head out of the window calling for you to hurry up. “I can’t believe it, ten-years-old and she already has secrets from us.” 

Jean shrugs, “It was bound to happen sooner or later.” 

“I know but I was hoping for later. Much, much later,” you say as you wipe fake tears. Jean pushes your arm as she calls you ridiculous, you smile as you pull her in for a half hug. “I better go. I’ll see you next week.” She rubs your back and pats you a couple of times. 

“You better update me on your whole cradle robbing situation,” she teases you. 

“I should have seen that coming,” you walk away as she calls you a few more names, making you laugh all the way to the truck. Rachel asks what’s so funny. “Your mom is a weirdo,” you say. Rachel agrees and then says that momma Anna is even weirder and you have to refrain from laughing by telling her that’s not nice. She says it’s true and you cut the conversation by playing her music on the car stereo. 

You and Pietro work fast in rebuilding the wall so that Wanda doesn't get into too much trouble with the representative from the homeowners association. It was turning out to be easier putting it back together than it was tearing it down. Of course though, now you don't have to worry about removing the wrong thing and causing the entire house to collapse. Everyone lucked out that you and Pietro hadn't started on expanding the floor yet. That would have been a little more difficult to fix up in the short window of time that Wanda was given. 

When lunch comes you and Pietro scarf the food down in order to keep working. Especially since the new siding for the house got delivered to the job site across town and the two of you had to go pick it up. The original siding for the house was destroyed the previous weekend when the two of you finally made it that far. Pietro thought it would be best to order new material at the time anyway since they would need it to cover the new extension of the house. 

All day you and Pietro are working inside and outside of the house to get the wall repaired with the material that you have available at the moment. Unfortunately, the beams that are needed in order to continue won't arrive until tomorrow. Which means that you are heading home earlier than expected. You slowly walk up the stairs to warn Rachel that you're packing up to leave but when you get close to the boy's room, you overhear them talking about some sort of plan. 

You take a small peek into the room through the crack in the door that should have been wide open. Rachel was holding up a notebook as if she was presenting to the boys sitting in front of her. That's possibly what she was working on. You try to get a better look by opening the door a little more but it knocks over a noisy toy and causes the four kids to scatter and pretend to look normal. You give Rachel a weird look as she asks you if you're done working. You confirm and then leave her to collect her things so that you can do the same. 

“Hey,” Wanda calls as you pass her office on the way back to the stairs.  “Do you have a second?” You look around to be certain that she's talking to you before you approach. She isn't on the phone and no one else is in the hall, so it could only be you.

“Uh, sure,” you say as you step closer. You didn't get to interact much with Wanda today and you couldn't tell if it was you avoiding her or her avoiding you. Last night after the awkward kiss with Daisy, you couldn't help but compare how you wanted to kiss Wanda the night before. Then you started to think that maybe if you got to kiss her, maybe it would feel right. But you couldn't test that theory out yet. Not when you're in too deep with Daisy. 

“Just for some peace of mind,” Wanda closes her laptop and focuses her attention on you. “And I don't want to make things awkward between us by saying this but, I feel like it kind of needs to be addressed.” Her rambling has you a little concerned but you let her continue. “I know we've said it to other people but I don't think we've really said it to each other. Um, we are just friends, right?” 

There is a slight pain in your chest when she says that but it's the truth. “Of course,” you say confidently. “Yeah, we're just friends,” you state again, this time with an unintentional undertone of disappointment. You clear your throat and look back before stepping in the office a little more. “Why did you feel like that needed clarification?” You ask, against your better judgment.

Wanda looks around her desk as if she wrote the answer somewhere but not a single blueprint can help her. “No reason it's just, I don't know… well, so many people assume things and I just want to make sure we're on the same page. Yeah, that's it. Just, I don't know. Forget I asked,” you don't press for more because you can tell that part of her might feel the way that part of you feels but you aren't quite sure what to do with that feeling. 

“Okay, well, we're done for the day, I was about to-” 

“How was your date?” she interrupts and your eyebrows shoot up as your mouth shuts. 

“Uh it was okay,” you say. You're not used to so many people knowing about your dating life. “I don't see a wedding anytime soon but it was good. We'll probably try to go out again when I don't have Rachel.” 

Wanda nods, “That’s fun, that's fun. How um, how long have you been seeing her?” 

“Yesterday was our first date, actually you met her. She was the waitress at the, ehem, the bar we met up at,” you say awkwardly. It feels like the two of you are trying to be friends. This conversation doesn't feel as natural as any other conversation. 

“I remember her,” she is a little disappointed that you chose someone younger but it's not her life. She might only be feeling this way because her ex-husband cheated on her with a college student. 

“Yeah, um,” you start to explain yourself once again but Rachel runs to your side and grabs your hand asking if you're ready to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Wanda who stands from her desk and walks over to you and Rachel to give proper goodbyes. She hugs both of you separately and thanks you for all of your help. You finally make your way downstairs and decide to leave the tools since Pietro already put away the dangerous ones. 

You leave the home conflicted by the conversation with Wanda but by the time you get home, you decide to not read into it too much. The two of you are friends and that's all you will ever be. 

On Wednesday, the representative from the homeowners association arrives in the early afternoon to inspect the house. On Sunday you and Pietro were so close to finishing the wall but it was going to take another day or two. Wanda was fine with explaining to whoever she had to that it was going to be fine. 

She was starting to get fired up again about it being her house so she should be allowed to do as she pleased. Especially when she received an email explaining that the appointment was rescheduled due to them wanting the entire house inspected. Which meant that she had to make sure the house was spotless. Especially the former man cave which she hasn't seen since Pietro destroyed everything. She hadn't known that you and him already cleaned up the mess until she made her way down there. 

The space needed some dusting and vacuuming but beyond that, it was clean. Luckily Pietro only trashed the stuff in the boxes that didn't include the furniture or the television. So the room still looked pretty decent, better even without all of the junk on the walls. 

As Wanda guided the woman around the house after she assessed the wall, she noticed that the woman was being a little bit flirty towards her. She wasn't sure if she was making it up or if she was misreading some of the woman's remarks. But Wanda was kind of into it. She hadn't been with a woman since her sophomore year of college. Raven Darkholme lived a couple doors down from hers and the two found themselves being left in the common area and locked out of their rooms often. One thing led to another and they dated for a solid six months before Wanda met Vision while taking his class. 

“I don't see any issues here, Mrs. St-” 

“Actually it's Ms. Maximoff,” Wanda corrects. “I’m not married anymore,” she adds although she wasn't sure if that was necessary information. 

“My apologies, Ms. Maximoff,” the woman smiles and looks her up and down before continuing. “As I was saying, other than the obvious incident with the wall which you said you're having repaired, I don't see why my visit was necessary. But I can't deny that I'm not happy to be here.” 

Wanda is starting to realize that it isn't in her head at all. “I must admit, I wasn't too thrilled about today, Ms. Romanoff. But it's been a relief knowing that my house is up to the HOA’s standards.”  

“Look, I know that this is totally inappropriate and unprofessional but um…” the inspector grabs one of her business cards and scribbles down her personal phone number. “Call me, if you're interested in letting me inspect you.” She says flirtatiously as she hands Wanda the card. The brunette blushes as she tries to hide her grin. That was quite a line. 

“I will keep that in mind, but you should know. I'm a mo-” 

“Mother of two boys? Yeah, we covered that when we walked around upstairs,” she finishes Wanda’s sentence. 

Wanda laughs as she is flustered, “Right, sorry, I'm just. Sorry, this hasn't happened to me in um years.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Natasha says. The two stand in the living room space staring at each other until the blonde's watch goes off, reminding her of her next appointment. “I better get going. I have another inspection in fifteen minutes. I'll let the board know that you're clear and that they don't need to send anything else. Call the business number on there when you have the wall finished and I'll send the paperwork to the board so that they'll leave you alone.” 

“Thank you, I really appreciate that,” Wanda says carefully. 

“It's my pleasure,” Natasha says as they walk to the front door together. “I hope to hear from you soon.” The woman walks away and this is one time that Wanda is relieved that her boys aren't here with her to witness that interaction. She shuts her front door and bites her bottom lip as she looks at the phone number on the card. Natasha even drew a little heart above the number. Maybe she is ready to start putting herself out there. This just wasn't what she ever imagined.

Chapter 8

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiwritesfanfics @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters

[couldawouldashoulda50]

This is Part One of my entry for the wonderful @cellythefloshie's birthday BINGO, featuring Matthew Knies (I know he was past the 2018 cutoff but celly gave me the green light for him). Although I did get bingo with my 5 tropes (Virginity, Age Gap, Secret Lovers, Meet Cute, Pining), the 5 are spread across Part One and Two. I am finishing Part Two soon, and then there might be a smaller third part - I just haven't figured out the fine art of writing smaller fics yet but I'm working on it. Nevertheless HAPPY (early) BIRTHDAY CELLY! I hope you enjoy this ❤️

Warnings/Notes - profanity, toxic parenting, parent estrangement. This part mainly covers the initial development of Matthew and the OC

OC Face Claim - Anna Katharina

Approx Word Count - 5.7k

August, 2024

Well, this is a huge fucking mistake… Lana thought to herself, forcing a smile as she sat across from her date.

She chastised herself further in her mind. Shit—I can't even remember his name. Was it Terry…or Jerry? Wait…Phil? No, he was last week. Fuck.

Against her better judgment, Lana allowed her arm to be twisted by her beloved brother to go on yet another blind date.

"Just try, Lana—just try again," he'd say. Now, she was wasting away across from this person, who was blathering about a subject that she had already forgotten about, alongside his name.

Lana rotated the highball glass with her fingertips, as she pretended to show interest in the man's one-sided conversation. Although her eyes appeared to be focused on his face, she was actually gazing out the window, just over the man's shoulder. From the 51st floor of the ManuLife Centre, the view of that particular evening boasted a magnificent August sunset, which added to the magical twilight of the Toronto city skyline.

Lana pouted in her mind. Why can't I be sitting here admiring the view with someone I love? Or even like? Attracted to, maybe?

It was from these moments of desperation, or weakness—whichever it was—that she found herself in this blind date situation to begin with.

She loved her brother, Andrew, for trying to set her up with a decent guy to develop a connection with. Lana thought it was reasonable that he might know a little more about men and dating since Andrew was in a loving relationship with Jason, his long-time partner.

She thought it was reasonable mainly because Lana had never dated anyone.

As in never, ever, ever.

Based on the non-success of the past men that Andrew sent her way, Lana felt her relationship status would not be changing anytime soon either.

Lana snapped back to reality just in time to catch what's-his-name staring at her tits as he finished his sentence.

She smiled demurely as she studied his expression. She really had not heard a word he had said, and it did not appear that he was awaiting a response from her. Seizing the opportunity, she excused herself and headed off in the direction of the ladies' room.

She turned back around to glance at her date. He was already otherwise occupied, ogling a nearby female server.

In the confines of the washroom stall, Lana swiped open her phone to remind herself of the name of the man she regretted suggesting to meet at one of her favorite restaurants.

Upon finding it, she muttered "Darren."

Lana responded to a text her brother had sent her earlier, asking how things were going.

L - Do you think that Jason can start vetting these guys before you send them my way? Personality of a piece of cardboard. I think I actually may have lost consciousness while he rambled on…

Andrew must have been waiting for her message, as he promptly responded.

A- Jason and I love you but we're done with sending you men. Coming to breakfast tomorrow?

Lana smiled at her brother's message. He always teased her saying she wouldn't have the foggiest clue what to do with a man anyway.

L - Love you both too. Breakfast is a no-go. Taking a client to view some condos. TTYL

A- Msg me when you get home

Lana exited the stall and glanced at her reflection as she washed her hands. She pondered what method she would use this time to send Darren packing.

Interestingly, most men never bothered to call once she handed them her business card anyway.

They seemed to trip over the word "Owner", especially of one of the most prestigious real estate brokerages in Toronto.

As they wrapped up their date, Lana cordially offered her business card with her contact information. Darren glanced at her card and then back at her. His expression gave her all the information she needed to know about the man standing before her.

Other than "Owner", there was a second word that was a lingering fact about Lana. A word that had begun to plague her mind and body more and more. She always wondered how a man would react, if in fact they were ever able to look past the first word, and get to know her more.

That second word was virgin.

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Lana and her older brother Andrew grew up in a small, close-knit community approximately two hours northwest of Toronto.

Their parents were cold, strict, and controlling towards their children. Although they made sure Andrew and Lana had everything they needed, there were always strings attached with everything they were provided.

Andrew was intelligent, strong-willed, and independent from an early age. Being 5 years younger, Lana idolized her handsome older brother. In turn, he adored her and always pushed her to succeed in everything she tried. Their bond became even stronger as their parents became even more controlling with Lana as she approached her high school years.

Andrew clashed badly with their parents, experiencing constant conflict and turmoil while living under the same roof. Andrew was determined to leave as soon as he could. He worked multiple jobs while still managing to excel academically. After earning as much money as he could, Andrew left to study architecture abroad at 18.

Once Andrew departed, his parents no longer acknowledged his existence. Andrew always felt a tremendous amount of guilt and remorse knowing he had deserted his beloved little sister. From afar, he did his best to help his sister navigate their parents' increasingly stern and uncompromising attitude toward her.

Meanwhile, Lana was experiencing rapid growth spurts at the age of 13. She was long, lean, and had natural curves which enhanced her athletic build. Her mother often shunned her appearance, making her feel that her natural beauty and her blossoming figure were a detriment and a cross to bear.

As she entered high school, it would mark the hardest time of her life.

Lana's mother drowned her with archaic myths and cautionary tales about boys, sex, disease, and unplanned pregnancy. She would be forever "ruined" if she gave in to having relations out of wedlock. As the ever-dutiful daughter, Lana absorbed everything her parents said and never scrutinized or disobeyed them.

The teenage boys at her school, with their raging desires fueling their comments as she walked by them, did little to convince Lana that her mother might be wrong in her teachings.

Teenage girls were in some cases worse than the boys. The behavior of the girls at Lana's school was full of envy and competitiveness. She often felt ostracized and alone during her first weeks and months of high school.

Lana would message Andrew in tears in the stall of the girls' washroom between classes. He was always there for her with words of comfort but would only allow her just a few tears of pity. Andrew would then coach her on how she would need to rise above it all. Step by step, Lana put her head down, studied hard, and became active in student council and various athletic programs.

Lana developed a no-nonsense type of attitude which served her well in her secondary school years, as well as keeping the peace at home. She managed to forge a few solid friendships with those who were authentic, intelligent, and did not concern themselves with trends or being popular.

At the end of high school, Lana was rewarded for her diligence and focus by excelling in academics, athletics, and the arts. She received a full scholarship to enter the Law program at the University of Toronto.

Fast-forwarding through her first two years in university, she maintained the same steadfast and hard-working mentality that was part of her nature. However, Lana soon discovered that Law did not ignite her passion. With Andrew carving his own path in architectural design and serving as her constant guide and mentor, she uncovered an unexpected love for real estate.

She landed a paid internship with a brokerage firm owned by an older gentleman by the name of Reine Schmidt. Reine immediately recognized Lana's dogged determination, her intellect, and her willingness to learn.

Reine taught Lana everything he knew. He had a proven track record of understanding trends to predict future outcomes, alongside his charisma, sharp wit, and masterful negotiation skills. With the guidance of her brother, Lana eventually followed her instincts and dropped out of university to work alongside her older mentor.

Lana's parents were furious and, in a fit of true toxicity, they severed ties with their daughter completely as they had done with their son.

As the cloud of devastation from the estrangement dissipated, Reine became a much-needed father figure in Lana's life. He provided her with shelter, which was merely a back room of the brokerage office. He helped her with the bare minimum, just enough to set her off in the right direction. The rest, Lana would have to work on and figure out for herself.

And she did. As the years went on, Lana gained a reputation throughout the GTA, being touted as Reine Schmidt's brilliant and beautiful protégé. She was elegant and poised while being creative and shrewd in her negotiation tactics. By the time she was thirty, Lana had her own substantial property portfolio, worth millions of dollars as the Toronto real estate market exploded.

When Reine became too ill to fulfill his responsibilities at his firm, he appointed Lana to step in on an interim basis. She did not know it at the time, but Reine had already decided to will her the firm. He just needed to make doubly sure that she was ready.

Lana remained by Reine's side as his illness progressed. He had no family to speak of, and he always said that he was not in the business of making friends. But he had grown to love Lana like a daughter, and although he never said as much, he was grateful that she made sure he was not alone during his last moments on earth.

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Lana awoke the following morning with the memory of her near abysmal date from the night before all but washed away. Retrieving her cell from her nightstand, she broke her own rule about no screens until after she had completed her morning Pilates. She just wanted to check if what's-his-name had messaged.

He had not.

Her business card had become like a detection device which helped identify those that would waste her time. Moreover, she was pleased that she could still calculate risk and probability by simply observing someone's non-verbal cues and other subtle behaviors.

Lana laid back on her pillow and gazed out her floor-to-ceiling windows in her bedroom. Her panoramic view of the city displayed all the colors of the sunrise of a late summer's morning. But the sunrise triggered a pang of loneliness within her. The sunset had a similar effect on her last night, and now the sunrise was having a go. She wanted someone to lie with and enjoy the wondrous city views in the morning. She longed to have someone to sit with at dinner and have them witness the perfection of a sunset by her side. She wanted to feel what it's like to crave someone and have them equally yearn for her.

Pushing her lonely thoughts aside, Lana yawned and stretched and slid out of bed, turning her phone off until it was time to leave for the office.

Any other morning, Lana would have opted to take transit, walk, or even run to her office. She quickly realized the good fortune of driving to work that day in an air-conditioned vehicle. The humidex was already climbing and it was only just 7 a.m. Another sweltering summer day in the city had begun.

As she drove, she mentally pre-planned her morning. Yesterday, a last-minute request came in from a very important client-turned-friend to view some condo listings in the downtown area. What left Lana perplexed was who the request was from.

Lana's mind drifted to another thought while idling at a traffic light.

Just two more weeks—two more weeks until I'm off and I'll press pause on the whole "trying to find a mate" search. Maybe I'm just meant to be alone. Maybe you just need to sleep with someone once and that'll be enough… maybe he's just not out there…. Lana mulled over these thoughts as she ventured south on St. George Street.

It had become a custom for Lana to flee the city at the beginning of September and spend a few weeks at the expansive lakeside home that she co-owned with her brother. With 5+ acres and an exceptional lakefront, it was a place where Lana could experience quiet for a while. That is, quiet after their friends, colleagues, and in some cases clients, descended onto the property for a popular get-together for the Labor Day weekend.

Arriving at her office before 7:30, Lana slipped into her leather chair and dove into a landslide of unread emails.

As the office began to fill, she left her office to greet her assistant and enjoy a morning chat. To Lana, this was one of her most favorite times of the day. Despite her upbringing, Lana sought connection with her professional family and was nurturing and compassionate to all of her associates. In turn, her staff were fiercely loyal to her and it showed in their combined success at the firm.

Lana returned to her office to tie up a few loose ends before her appointment arrived.

Ainsley tapped on Lana's office door, letting her know her 9 a.m. had arrived, and asked if she would like them escorted to her office. In her mind, Lana tripped over the word "them" as she was only expecting one person. Shaking off the confusion, she declined Ainsley's offer and thanked her as she made her way down the corridor.

As she approached the reception area, she was prepared to see Aryne Tavares but not her handsome husband John and another even more striking man standing next to the couple.

Lana's professional-turned-friendly relationship with the Tavares' began with helping Aryne navigate the Toronto housing market when John was traded from the Islanders to Toronto. Although John was present during some of the preliminary preference discussions, Aryne always appreciated how Lana focused mainly on her and her needs during the conversation, as opposed to her husband. Oftentimes, it was the opposite with other firms and their agents who wanted to talk hockey or suck up to the player in the hopes they might be able to drum up more business for themselves.

For several years, Lana's name had become the number one recommended by the majority of Toronto WAGs who were either in search of shorter-term furnished rentals or more permanent homes. She understood and made it clear (while treading lightly) that where the player-husbands were often making the salary allowing the upscale and sometimes super luxurious homes, it was the wives and families that had to live in them day in and day out. As such, Lana's firm cornered the market for finding suitable homes for Toronto's professional athletes and their families. Due to the unique demands, she created a specialized team and trained them specifically to work with sports agents, significant others, and the player's surrounding support system.

Lana's eyes lit up, as did Aryne's, as they greeted each other and hugged warmly.

"What an amazing surprise! Good morning!" Lana gushed, first embracing Aryne and then John.

Lana approached the third individual standing slightly behind John. He was taller than the veteran player by a couple of inches, visibly younger, and was extremely broad and fit.

Lana thought she recognized his face but couldn't quite place it.

Aryne made the introductions. "This is Matthew Knies. Matthew, this is Lana — she's a friend and has been our real estate guru for a number of years."

Matthew's cheeks were already burning when he first glimpsed at Lana. He was positive he had never seen a woman nearly as beautiful as she was.

But when Lana turned and looked directly into his eyes while extending her hand, that's when his insides fell apart. He had difficulty swallowing, and he realized his mouth was slightly agape.

Lana squeezed his hand warmly. "I thought I recognized you. It's really wonderful to meet you, Matthew."

Trying to pull himself together, he shook her hand and with a dry throat, he squeaked out, "Nice to meet you too."

As Lana escorted the group towards her office, Aryne explained that she and John just wanted to help sort through some of the available condo listings for Matthew.

Lana smiled and explained to Aryne and John her initial confusion when the request for condo listings appeared under the "Tavares" file. After all, she had already helped Aryne find their ideal home twice as their family grew.

Matthew had resided with the Tavares family at the beginning of the 2023/24 season and later moved to a rental unit downtown mid-way through the season. Unfortunately, for various reasons, he was not at all happy in that building and wanted to start the upcoming season in more suitable place. Although it was not discussed in their meeting, the main reason being that Matthew and his now ex-girlfriend had parted ways in that same unit, and it was not an amicable ending to say the least.

Lana appreciated having John and Aryne there to assist Matthew. In recent years, other members of her sales team had primarily handled the real estate needs of younger male players. Time was ticking before the start of the season, and Lana wanted to be efficient in pinpointing exactly what would suit Matthew. John's input would be valuable in considering practical factors, especially regarding proximity to Scotiabank Arena and the practice rink in the southwest end of the city.

As Matthew sat diagonally across from Lana, he pretended to show interest in the selected listings which Lana walked them through on the large monitor mounted on her wall.

But it was only Lana that held his attention.

Matthew wanted to absorb every detail of her from head to toe. He wanted to stare and drink in every detail of her face.

Not wanting to appear obvious, he made sure his eyes didn't linger too long when they wandered to catch another glimpse of her as she pointed out various features in each listing.

Matthew had not even realized that his auto-pilot responses were in full swing. He barely recalled agreeing to see a handful of ready-to-show condos in the surrounding area and that it would be Lana herself giving him a tour of each unit.

Lana rose from her desk. "So Matthew, if you're alright for time now, it sounds like we'll be spending the morning together."

Matthew smiled as he silently willed his cock not to twitch at the very thought of being with Lana in any capacity, morning, noon, or night.

"Sure — absolutely… I'm all yours."

With the feeling that his heart was in his throat, Matthew realized how true those words had become in just half an hour after meeting this siren.

Lana stopped by Ainsley's desk and quietly gave some instructions for tasks that could be taken care of while she was out. Ainsley couldn't help but look past Lana ever so subtly at the handsome young player as she nodded her head.

Sensing that Matthew had caught her pretty assistant's eye, Lana gave Ainsley a knowing smile. "You want me to find out if he's dating anyone?" she quietly asked.

A bashful smile spanned Ainsley's face. "Oh my god, he's just so hot… I don't know… I guess it would be nice just to know if he's got a girlfriend?" she replied under her breath.

Ever so coolly, Lana gave Ainsley a discreet wink. "I'll see what I can find out and report back later, ok?"

Ainsley beamed, barely able to suppress her excitement as she nodded enthusiastically.

Lana joined the group as they meandered down the corridor towards the elevators. Little did she know that this little "meet cute" with Matthew Knies would soon change her entire world.

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Later in the day, Matthew arrived at the building of his close friend and teammate, Joseph Woll. He pressed the intercom button and within seconds, the door to the lobby clicked open and Matthew made his way towards the elevator.

Minutes later, Matthew was at Joe's door, which he had left propped slightly open inviting him just to come on through. Matthew always appreciated Joe's easy-going and considerate nature and felt grateful for his friend and how they both seemed to naturally anchor each other.

He walked through to the open living room and kitchen area where Joseph was working away assembling his most recent Lego project — the famous Concorde aircraft.

Joe glanced over the tail of his newest Lego set towards Matthew. "How did it go — see anything you liked?"

Fuck… yeah, only it wasn't a condo, Matthew mused to himself.

"Not sure… I guess nothing really stood out," Matthew replied as he flopped onto the nearby couch. "Might take a few more times… I just want to pick the right one."

Without looking up from snapping a series of small blocks together, Joe continued. "Too bad there's not anything available in this building…" He searched the table for the next appropriate piece before adding, "…but then again if you moved in, maybe there's such a thing as seeing someone too much…"

Matthew looked at his friend with a pained expression. "Ouch — fuck, bro… is that what you think?" he chuckled.

Joe shook his head laughing. "No… I just like getting a rise out of you. Oh—and just letting you know that we're meeting up with the rest of the guys at the bar around 8 tonight. I guess it's guys only now… the girlfriends opted to do something else."

"Who's all going? Mints, Cowboy…?"

Joe continued, "Me, you, Bobbo, Mints, Cowboy, but then there's a few vets coming — Max, Muzz… Doaner I think. It's shaping up to be a fun night."

Matthew stretched and yawned. "Sounds like it. Alright… fuck — I need a nap. Can I crash here for a bit? I don't feel like going back to my place."

Joe was concentrating on reading the instructions for the rudder for the plane. "Be my guest… we'll head out to the bar together then. I think you've even got a pair of shorts and a shirt here so you can change. Crash as long as you want."

Matthew traipsed down the hallway to the second bedroom and fell backward onto the mattress. He was tired, but his mind bounced in a million directions, wondering about what Lana was doing now and how her day would end. He wondered if she went home to a perfect husband or significant other who loved her and treated her right, or if she was with some prick who would never realize just how amazing she is.

Matthew's insides were starting to twist and flutter each time his memory pulled him back to the seemingly insignificant moments of that day. Sitting next to her in her car. Chatting seamlessly while stuck in traffic. Riding the elevator with her, or holding the door for her whenever they entered or exited a prospective condo.

His mind traveled back to the quick lunch they had, where Lana couldn't stop laughing after Matthew told her a story from his childhood. When she continued to chuckle about it for the rest of their time together, Matthew thought he might melt with desire right then.

Matthew finally pushed past the restlessness he had begun to feel and drifted off into a deep sleep.

Later that evening at an upscale sports bar, the table of hockey players cheered when the servers presented the group with the most bizarre and fascinating Caesar concoctions. The popular Canadian cocktail was adorned with everything from pulled pork sandwiches and burgers on skewers to tempura prawns and dessert options.

The group's boisterous laughter marked the upbeat and optimistic mood of the group with the start of a new season just around the corner.

Matthew tried to mimic the mood but he simply wasn't there in mind or spirit. He even ignored being chirped by a few of the rookies for nursing his Corona and avoiding the subsequent tequila shot altogether.

Matthew had a close friendship burgeoning with former rookie Bobby McMann, whom he sat next to at the table. Bobby noticed Matthew's glum demeanor but initially assumed it was over the demise of his recent relationship.

Bobby clinked the clear glass neck of his beer bottle against Matthew's, which was still virtually untouched. "It'll get better, man—try not to let it drag you down too far."

Matthew nodded and smiled to acknowledge his friend's support.

Joe, who was sitting across the table, silently wondered about the change in his friend's mood. Yes, Matthew had been through some turmoil in the past months with ending a relationship that had gone off the rails. However, after the dust had settled in the off-season, his mood and outlook were full of confidence once again. Joe knew Matthew was really geared up about finding a new place quickly, so perhaps his low mood was a result of not having any luck that day. It didn't quite compute in Joe's head, but he would keep his thoughts to himself, for now at least.

When Matthew quietly announced to those sitting nearest to him that he was done for the night and was heading home, Joe and Shane (Doan) walked him out just to make sure their good friend was alright before taking off. Matthew assured them he was, that he was just tired.

He ordered an Uber and was back home in no time, but the change in location to his quiet condo only exacerbated him more. Pulling out Lana's business card, adorned with her headshot that he couldn't avert his eyes from, he placed it on the coffee table. He picked up his guitar, a not-so-new hobby that Matthew freed his mind with, much like his buddy Joe did with Lego, and began to pick at the strings. He was pissed with himself as he tried, and failed, to think of anything else other than contacting his new and unexpected crush.

Setting the guitar aside, he picked up his phone, entered Lana's cell number into his contacts and sent her a brief message, beginning with an apology hoping it wasn't too late to reach out to her.

Matthew was pleasantly surprised that she responded within minutes. He asked Lana a series of questions, all about viewing more condos, but it was mostly to establish whether he could reach out to her specifically. She responded that indeed he could, and she would do her best to accommodate his schedule in the coming days. Matthew wasted no time in setting up a time with Lana for the following day, and then two days after that.

He breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

Following a silent moment, Matthew then shook his head and muttered to himself to get a fucking grip and that he was acting completely ridiculous by already pining over a woman that he didn't even know.

▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊▣◊

As the end of August approached, Lana and Matthew had spent a considerable amount of time sorting through listings and narrowing down options to view. Lana encouraged Matthew to be selective, as it was important for him to be happy in the space where he would spend the majority of the next eight or nine months.

On the other hand, she knew the start of the season was sneaking up quickly and she hoped, for his sake, that he would find a place before training camp, media days and everything else that goes with it was upon him.

Matthew secretly knew this and sometimes felt he was playing with fire, appearing either indecisive or hard to please with the places Lana showed him. With this in mind, Matthew quickly finalized his decision on a place and chose a second one as a backup.

He also wanted to take the plunge and ask Lana out for dinner to say thank-you.

The following afternoon, Matthew sat next to Lana on the sleek, white sofa in her office as she walked him through the paperwork. The air between them was comfortable and relaxed, but the professional nature of their relationship was still very prominent. While initialing and signing wherever Lana indicated with her elegantly simple manicured nails, Matthew tried to ignore the anxiousness that was swirling in his mind.

Lana had consumed his every thought since he first met her. Whether he was in the midst of strength training or skate drills, he imagined what it would feel like if she was there watching him. He thought about her in traffic, in the shower, or running out to get food. He continuously caught himself having these harmless daydreams and did his best to shoo them away in order to refocus his mind, but often he was fighting a losing battle.

With his last initial inked on the page, Lana smiled widely and extended her hand. "Congratulations, Mr. Knies—I think you'll be very happy in your new place. It really is such a great neighborhood."

"Well, thanks… yeah, I know I will. And thank you for all your help. And for being patient with me. I hope it didn't feel like I was never going to choose one… you just gave me so many great options," Matthew smiled as he shook her hand.

As they stood, Lana felt a little disappointed that this might be the last time her and Matthew crossed paths. Her initial impressions of him and his frat boy exterior had almost immediately dissolved and she found him to be very mature and he spoke with an intelligence that was far beyond his years. Oftentimes, Lana found that she genuinely looked forward to seeing him, especially the times when they decided to walk to each destination instead of fighting traffic. She had only felt this level of comfort, ease and enjoyment with a select group of people, and although she never would have expected it, she considered Matthew a friend.

If she was really being totally honest with herself, she had thought about him as a little bit more than a friend as her base female urges had only increased since she met him. Lana often fell asleep feeling frustrated, squeezing her thighs together to try and get relief from the pressure building in her core.

Lana moved towards the door, knowing she had limited time before her next meeting. “I hope you won’t be a stranger but I can only imagine how busy you’ll be once the season starts. Oh - and all the best…I hope you guys have a really great year ahead.”

Feeling that time was not on his side, Matthew’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously and stepped in close to Lana.

“Hey - well, I kind of felt like I was being a bit of a pain in the ass with monopolizing your time, so to say thanks, I - I was wondering if maybe you’d let me take you out to dinner sometime?

Lana’s eyes softened as she smiled, feeling flushed at Matthew’s invite. “Absolut - “

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ainsley appeared at the door, her eyes darted between the expression on Lana and Matthew faces. “Your 3:00 is here.” The curtness in Ainsley's voice would be unrecognizable to most, but Lana picked up on it quickly. She had all but forgotten that Ainsley had developed a crush on the young hockey player. Normally, her attractive assistant caught the attention of most guys around Matthew's age and type, but any interactions she had with Matthew thus far were strictly polite and professional.

Lana thanked her and said she would be out momentarily. She made a mental note to check in with Ainsley later, as she noticed her pursed lips before she walked stiffly down the hallway.

Lana turned back to Matthew. “How about this, I send you a note once I’m home from work and we can get something arranged, ok?

“Perfect - I guess until then…” Matthew postured for a hug which Lana gladly accepted.

For a split second in his embrace, she imagined how it would feel if his hands held her a little more firmly. Pulled her in a little more tightly.

She watched as he sauntered out into the reception area, quietly mumbling as she chastised herself.

“He’s 21…you're 32. Get your mind off of this notion, Lana.”

But for the remainder of the day, she couldn't stop the fluttery sensation in her stomach. It mystified and excited her but it was a feeling that also terrified her.

After her last meeting had wrapped up for the day, she hurriedly sent a message to Andrew and Jason. She flagged it as urgent for good measure.

L - Are either of you home tonight? Desperately needing advice - can I come by?

Jason responded first.

J - Are you ok? Already setting a place for you at the dinner table.

Andrew responded asking the same question.

Lana paused, held her breath and typed in each letter slowly.

L - I think I'm interested in someone.

There was a silence that could be felt, even over the phone.

Andrew eventually responded.

A- Jason probably fainted. You might want to pick up something stronger to drink than wine.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Rusty | Chapter 10 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - Luke has a heart to heart with Emily. Spencer takes you on a little trip where you both come to an understanding before he takes a serious step on the road to his recovery.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - mentions of sexual assault and use the term “rape”, tears, dissociation, blood, self harm, making out, swearing, detailed therapy, medication. WC - 6.6k

Chapter 10 - Back in the Saddle Again

“Tell me everything you know.” Luke spoke in hushed tones into his cell phone as he hid over the back of the San Antonio Police Department.

Over the swell of people coming and going, phones ringing off their hooks and keyboards clacking, he heard Phil sigh.

“I don’t really know much at all, Alvez.” Phil’s tone was laced with his frustration. “She stole a car in New York after her escape, it was found abandoned down your neck of the woods, just outside of Richmond. But from there…man I don’t know. I can only assume she must have gotten her hands on another vehicle but there weren’t any reported stolen within a fifty mile radius. 

“If she’s smart she would have headed for Mexico. But if she did that’ll make finding her that much harder. We know she had money after her first escape, we found the empty safe at mom’s house. She must have known I was close when I apprehended her and stashed it somewhere, so we have to assume she has it again. There have been no sightings of her for the last few days and you know as well as I do that without sightings, there’s nothing I can do.” 

“I wish I could help.” Luke pushed the fingers of his free hand against his temple. “But with the whole network thing we’re swamped. Not to mention we’re short on the ground. I want to be kept in the loop though. If you hear anything…”

“Of course, of course.” Phil agreed. “Knowing how she operates she’s probably worked her magic on some poor, unexpected sap who’s taken pity on her. Her face is plastered everywhere up and down the country. Someone has to recognise her.” 

“If she’s in some small Mexican town, hell if she’s in some small American town, those kinds of things don’t reach everyone.” Luke continued kneading his temple aggressively. “I hate this, I hate feeling so powerless.” 

“We’ll get her Alvez. It might not be today or tomorrow, hell it might not even be this year. But we will get her.” Phil sounded determined and it was one of the things Luke admired most about his old partner.

Even after all he’d been through with Daniel Cullen, even after his rehabilitation had almost destroyed his spirit entirely, he was one determined son of a bitch. 

“Keep me posted.” Luke replied before hanging up the phone.

He turned away from the corner wall he’d been staring at, ready to rejoin the team but a set of hauntingly intense dark eyes full of irritation were staring back at him.

She had her arms folded over her chest, her greying hair tied back into a ponytail which made her features appear more stern.

“So it’s true, you are working your own cases?” Emily clucked, tilting her head at him.

“Does Garcia ever keep her mouth shut?” Luke scoffed. “It’s just an old case from back in my FTF days, I’m sorry.” 

Emily softened slightly, dropping her arms to her sides with a huffed out breath. She quipped her head to the left.

“Walk with me.” She said before she was already leaving.

Luke quickly followed, falling into step with her. He walked with her until they reached the doors of the precinct. She shoved it open and the two stepped outside into the blistering, humid Texan heat. 

She stopped on the pavement a few feet away from the door and once again folded her arms across her chest. 

“Is this affecting your ability to be an effective member of this team?” She asked him outright.

“No.” He shook his head, jaw set. “Just some unfinished business is all.” 

“She got under your skin?” She narrowed her eyes on him, profiling him. 

“They all do.” Luke’s jaw tensed. “But yeah, I supposed she did more than most. She had everyone falling at her feet, treating her with kid gloves. Everyone seemed to forget the fact she murdered a guy. We got close to her, I’m sure we did, right before I got the call from Hotch to help out the BAU. 

“We got a tip that she’d been seen in this tiny little town of Magnolia Springs, Alabama. A guy reported he’d seen a person matching her description coming and going from his neighbours house. Someone musta tipped her off because when we arrived she was gone and the woman whose house she was supposedly staying in wasn’t talking. 

“I felt her, Emily, she was close, so close. But she slipped out of my reach. And then I joined the BAU and I wasn’t able to be there when Phil finally caught up to her. I wanted to be the one to arrest her, I don’t know why. She got to me and I have no idea why, but the thought of her escaping again is eating me up inside. And now we’re here, in Texas of all places and I…I just…” He trailed off, a lump forming in his throat. 

He coughed to try and dislodge it, rubbed his hand up and down his neck. Emily once again let her arms fall from their folded position and her shoulders slumped a little. 

“We’re right on his doorstep. Practically in his backyard.” She smiled despondently. 

She didn’t need to say his name, saying his name in fact might make matters worse. But she knew Luke understood who she meant. In truth, as soon as she’d gotten the call to come out here she had thought of Spencer. And if she was thinking about him, Luke most definitely was. 

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I wish it wasn’t still this…hard, you know? Two years and I still feel like it was yesterday you were telling us he left.” 

“You never got closure.” Emily shrugged, sucking in a breath. “It’s hard to move on without it. It's like a book with its end pages missing. You just keep flicking through it and hoping they will appear. There was no end for you and him, not a fleshed out one anyway. One day it was and the next it simply wasn’t.” 

“I know the rest of the team didn’t see his medical reports from Milburn but as Unit Chief, I imagine you had to?” He straightened his back. 

They’d never talked about it, there was no reason to. It wouldn’t have undone what Spencer had to endure and so they just didn’t talk about it. Maybe it was to protect Spencer’s autonomy, or maybe it was to protect themselves from it. 

Emily closed her eyes for a few seconds and nodded her head stiffly.

“Yeah, I had to read them. Unfortunately it’s part of the job. Why did you read them?” 

“He wouldn’t talk to me.” Luke shook his head. “He wouldn’t talk to me and I knew I was missing something. I had to know. Although I wish I didn’t.” 

“Palatal petechiae, indicative of forced oral sex.” Emily’s eyes welled with unshed tears as she said it out loud. “It’s a form of rape.”

Luke visibly crumbled as she spoke the word, the one word he’d tried to keep out of his head for all these years. 

But that’s what it was. Spencer had been raped, probably repeatedly. And Luke had turned his back on him. 

He slumped against the wall to keep himself balanced, the weight of Emily’s words crashing into him and forcing all the air from his lungs. 

His head was pounding. He felt his stomach turn violently. 

“I broke up with him. He was struggling through an immense amount of trauma, a trauma I knew he suffered and I still broke up with him. What kind of a person does that?” His voice cracked. 

“He didn’t want your help, Luke. He didn’t want anyone’s help. You know Reid as well as I do, probably better, and you know he was never going to admit what happened to him. He’s too proud. He’s a protector, he’s spent his entire adult life in that role. He speaks for the people who can’t speak for themselves. But when something like that happens to him, he feels he has no one to speak for him.” 

“I would have.” Luke swallowed. “I would have done anything for him.” 

“I’m sure deep down he knows that.” Emily took a step closer and gripped Luke’s shoulder tightly. He needed grounding. “But he is one of the most stubborn people I have ever met and if he thinks he can get through this on his own, that’s what he’ll do. We need to let him figure this out however he sees fit.” 

“I thought he’d come back.” A tear escaped his eye and he was quick to bat it away. “I thought he’d take some time but that he’d come back. I deluded myself into thinking that one day he’d just show up and we could pick up where we left off. I still love him, Em. I still love him with every goddamn beat of my heart.”

Emily’s fingers coiled into his shoulder blade, kneading his tense muscle in her hand. 

“We’re really short on the ground and this case is a matter of urgency.” She spoke but Luke’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “But once we’re wrapped up here, whenever that might be, I think you owe yourself a vacation day. Bandera is only forty something miles from here. And I hear it’s lovely this time of year.” 

Luke’s lip quivered in understanding and he melted into her touch.

“You’re sure?” 

“I mean you’ll have to clear it with Rossi as he’s your Unit Chief but I can’t foresee it being an issue. And if I remember rightly, it’s Reid’s birthday soon, Garcia is already working on overnighting a bunch of gifts out here. It would be good if someone could give them to him.” She smiled sadly, letting go of his shoulder and taking a step backwards. 

Luke closed his eyes briefly to stem any more tears, nodding his head in thanks at his old boss and feeling a swell of emotion in that moment. 

Emily was surprised to say the least when Luke suddenly engulfed her in a tight embrace. Her arms hovered at her sides for a few seconds, while she comprehended what was happening. 

In all the years she’d know Luke Alvez, she didn’t think he’d ever hugged her before. 

When he started shaking against her, sobbing into her shoulder, she wrapped him in her arms, and held him. 

She gave him a few minutes, allowed him a brief window in which he could let himself feel the weight of everything he’d been bottling up for two years. 

Emily Prentiss was the FBI Section Chief, but that was the secondary facet of her personality. Above all else, Emily was a friend. And a damn good one at that. 

***

You heard him coming before you saw him, noting his gait was faster than you’d grown accustomed to. He didn’t sound as though he was limping too much this morning, at least he was starting to heal.

You had your back to him and kept it that way, hoping if you didn’t engage him he may well leave you alone. 

But you had no such luck.

“What the hell are you doing?” The irritation in his voice was ripe. 

You swallowed thickly before tugging lightly on Rusty’s rein to turn her about to face him. You commanded the flaxen mare to trot closer to where Spencer stood glaring at you on the other side of the enclosure. 

“I mean, I think it’s pretty clear what I’m doing.” You huffed as you got closer. “I'm riding my horse.” 

“You’ve had two lessons. Do you know how dangerous it is to ride without supervision?” He spat, unlocking the gate and stepping inside the fenced area. “Get down.” 

“No.” You scoffed. “I’m fine. You said it yourself, I’m a natural.” 

“For the love of god, you are going to be the death of me.” He shook his head, rubbing his brow beneath his stetson. 

“I’ll feed you to Rusty when that happens.” You smirked sarcastically. 

“We need to talk.” He exhaled, not at all sounding like that was something he wanted to do.

“I’m good.” You shook your head. 

“It wasn’t a question. We need to talk.” He glanced around the area and only really registered for the first time all four of the horses were grazing in the field. “Why are my horses out here?”

“So I could clean the stable.” You shrugged, patting Rusty’s neck. “I refilled their troughs, got them fresh water. Even cleaned out the cattle barn.” 

Spencer’s brows pinched as he looked up at you. 

“It’s eight am, how long have you been up?” 

“Never went to sleep.” You shrugged again. 

The look you gave him told him it was his fault you hadn’t slept. In truth he hadn’t either. 

He came around from his dissociation still on his bathroom floor as though he hadn’t moved but clearly at some point he must have because he had the razor in his hands. 

He was bleeding from a self-inflicted wound on his stomach, just left of his belly button. Once again he’d patched himself up with the use of butterfly stitches and stuck a large gauze pad over the wound.

After that he couldn’t sleep, just sat up staring at the wall thinking about where his life went so drastically wrong. 

Three times now he’d dissociated in startlingly quick succession. Three times he’d come to with unintentional cuts on his body. He was starting to scare himself if truth be told. Perhaps he needed to consider seeking out his old therapist and getting a higher dosage of his medication.

“Can we…take a ride or something?” He spoke again, voice cracking. 

“Should you be riding?” You frowned at him. 

“My leg is feeling something akin to normal again. It's the least pain I’ve been in anyway. The doctor told me I could ride again when I felt ready. And there’s somewhere I’d like to show you.” 

“Fine,” you huffed out a breath so he knew you weren’t thrilled by the idea. 

“Super, just let me grab Willow’s saddle. Oh, could you maybe help get Frank and Wilbur back to the stable?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“You’re taking Willow?” Your brows furrowed.

“Yeah?” He returned your expression.

“And I’m taking Rusty.” 

“Again, yeah?” 

“Have you forgotten that they hate each other?” You glared at him.

“It’s a long trek to where I want to take you and Willow is the only one strong enough and determined enough to make it there and back. Frank or Wilbur would not be able to handle it.” He shrugged.

“Can Rusty handle it?” You looked down at the mare between your legs who was eyeing Spencer warily. 

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.” He chuckled, but there was a nervousness to his tone.

Soon though he was meandering over towards Wilbur, ready to take him back down to the stable. And without another word you turned Rusty around again and went about helping him.

***

Medina Lake wasn’t just a trek away as Spencer had put it. It was located nearly twenty miles south of Bandera, on the other side of Lakehills. It was a crescent shaped reservoir on the Medina River, eighteen miles wide at its broadest point and contained by the Medina Dam at the lakes south end. 

Spencer told you all about it as you rode together, giving Willow and Rusty enough space so as they wouldn’t cause another incident like the one that had broken Spencer’s arm. 

Apparently at the time of its construction, it was the largest concrete dam in the country, and fourth largest in the world. He told you that the dam was listed on the National Register of Historic Places. 

As you barely spoke in reply, Spencer continued. He went on to tell you that Medina Lake had been stocked with species of fish intended to improve the reservoir for recreational fishing. He listed largemouth bass, white bass, hybrid striped bass, catfish and carp among the species found in the lake.

But he didn’t stop there. 

He continued to fill the dead air between you by telling you about the state of the lake. According to Spencer as part of the 2010 to 2013 Southern United States drought, the lake water levels dropped below five percent capacity. As a result he told you many cracks, oil drums and a Jeep are visible due to the low water level. 

He continued with telling you that thanks to some showers in the summer of 2013 the lake levels had risen to five point two percent. But many businesses had been closed, many residents left and Lakehills had been somewhat of a ghost town ever since. 

He still carried on, despite your obvious lack of interest. Going on to tell you with an almost excited flurry, that due to heavy rainfall in the region, as of May 2015 the levels rose to forty six percent. And again due to more heavy rain, by May 2016 the lake was at one hundred percent capacity. He went to continue but by this point you held up a silencing hand. 

“I can’t, Spencer. Please? Please just stop talking for five minutes?” 

He’d huffed but yet he didn’t speak again for the rest of the journey. 

He took you all the way down to Bandera County Medina Lake Park. He paid the twenty dollar fee for you both to enter. He led you and Rusty down to a quiet alcove away from the flood of tourists. 

He found some hitching posts where you tied up your steeds, keeping enough distance between them so they couldn’t bother one another. 

Spencer couldn’t deny that his thigh was causing him aggravation by this point and his knee ached dully. You could tell by the grimace on his face that he was struggling but didn’t say anything. 

As much as you hated to admit it, the place was stunning. It combined the natural beauty of the Texas Hill Country with a picturesque watery wonderland. People in the distance were on the lake swimming, riding jet-skis and other boats. Some people on land had BBQ’s, picnics and the like. 

Spencer led you down towards the lakes edge, still ensuring to have a clear view of your two mares at the top of the bank. He found a secluded spot, away from other lake goers so the two of you could be alone. 

You took a seat on the ground, stretching your legs out in front of you and groaning a little at the chafing in your thighs from the long ride. The water was clear and the sun above caused it to sparkle. In this heat it looked positively intoxicating. 

Spencer removed his denim shirt, his black t-shirt underneath marked with sweat stains under the pits and around the collar. He lowered his stetson over his eyes to keep the sun out of them. 

Neither of you spoke for some time. Far off you could hear the sounds of other people splashing in the lake, laughing and having fun. Behind you could make out Rusty snuffling around in the grass. 

If you focused in front of you, you could easily believe that you and Spencer were the only two people in the world. Perhaps that was why he brought you here in the first place. 

After long stretches of uncomfortable silence, Spencer huffed from beside you and forced himself to speak. 

“We need to talk about last night.” He saw your back straighten at his words but you didn’t even so much as look at him. “I promise you, it had nothing to do with you. I don’t even have the words to describe what it was like for me getting to be with you like that, getting to make you feel like that. But, uh, after I…completed, my thoughts went into overdrive and I panicked. 

“I don’t know how to explain it other than that I’m not well. Mentally I am extremely sick. I told you last night that I need to test my boundaries, and I guess I pushed them a little farther than I was ready for. I really am sorry, Y/N. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you.” 

The sincerity in his voice caused you to turn your head to the side and look at him. His eyes were full of uncertainty, fear and mild terror. You could see he had a heavy weight upon him and that talking about this wasn’t easy for him.

“Am I just some kind of experiment to you, Spencer? I don’t mind helping you get over whatever it is that happened to you, but if all I am to you is a test subject, please let me know before I get in over my head here.” You hated how sorry for yourself you sounded.

“You are so much more to me than that.” He frowned, shocked you would even suggest that. “But I suppose in a way, this is experimental to me. I have no idea how I’m going to react to any given situation of intimacy until I’m right in the middle of it. But please believe me when I say I would not be able to have even considered this kind of relationship with anyone else. Because of you, I’ve managed to actually maintain an erection long enough to orgasm, twice. That hasn’t happened to me in nearly four years.” His cheeks flushed in candour. 

“If it offers you any kind of comfort, last night was the first time I’ve been with a man in almost two years. And it’s the first time I have ever come by someone else's hand other than my own.” Your own cheeks reddened at your confession.

“Oh,” Spencer’s voice shot up several octaves. “Oh.” 

“To be perfectly honest with you Spencer, had the opportunity presented itself, I would have jumped you that first night we met. And I can’t pretend that I don’t want more out of this, but I am not going to push you if you’re not ready. I think if we are going to continue whatever this is, we just have to take things slowly. Like at a snail's pace.” You tucked your hair behind your ears, feeling perspiration gathering on your brow. 

“Agreed,” he nodded. “I do want to move past this. I want to be able to give you every part of myself. It's just going to take some time.” He smiled meekly. 

“I got nothing but time.” You smiled back. 

Spencer chuckled a little, shuffling closer to you in the dirt. You felt your breath hitch as he got nearer. 

“Would kissing you be entirely out of the question right now?” He rolled his lip between his teeth in his scepticism. 

“Not entirely out of the question, no.” You shook your head. 

The easiest thing to do would be to put space between you and Spencer, draw a line in the sand and remain strictly as friends. But you never did make a habit of travelling the path of least resistance. 

He leaned closer, removing his stetson and dropping it down next to him. And then his hand moved to cup your cheek, fingers brushing lightly across your skin. He pressed his lips to yours cautiously at first but within a second or two he got carried away.

His tongue brushed along your bottom lip and you opened your mouth for him to gain entrance. His hand weaved into your hair, fingers burying in your locks. You kissed him back with as much passion as he showed you. 

You brought your own hands to his face, holding him close. With his grip in your hair he tugged you a little, trying to convey that he needed you nearer. 

Keeping your lips attached you shuffled so you were straddling him, knees resting either side of his thighs. The fingers peeking out from his cast brushed along your back, under the hem of your shirt. You moved your own hands to his shoulders to keep yourself balanced. 

It wasn’t long before you lowered yourself into his lap and your hips undulated against his crotch. He moaned into your mouth and gripped your hair tighter as you felt a stirring in his pants. 

He started moving backwards, bringing you with him until you were laying on top of him. But when your full weight was flush against him, he suddenly pulled away from your lips and growled in pain. 

“What’s wrong?” You panted, sitting back a little as his face contorted. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m sorry…I did something dumb.” 

Frowning, you rolled off of him and knelt next to him while he cautiously rolled up the hem of his t-shirt to reveal the large band aid across the left side of his stomach. 

“You dissociated again?” You whimpered. 

“Yeah.” He nodded, rolling his shirt back down and sitting up. “And please don’t blame yourself. None of this is your fault.” 

“I noticed last night you had a bandage on your thigh. Was that…?”

“Self-inflicted? Yes.” He rubbed one eye. “I’ve never hurt myself like that outside of those dissociative states. My brain is extremely fucked in many, many ways but I am not suicidal or anything like that.”

“Do you ever remember anything from those states?” You found yourself asking. 

“It’s hazy.” He sighed. “And I’m not sure what’s real and what isn’t. I can recall messy pieces sometimes, but it’s not clear. It’s like I’m watching myself, like an out of body experience. I’m completely disconnected from my own mind, my own body. Its fucking terrifying. And I don’t know how to stop it.” 

“You said you’d been to therapy before?” You asked softly.

“Twice.” He nodded. “Once back in DC, and once again when I moved here. Before you say anything, I am aware I need to go back. I guess I at least get to tell her the good news that my dick seems to be working again. Now we’ve just gotta focus on stopping me from having a panic attack, crying or dissociating after I come.” 

You glared at him and the candid nature in which he spoke. His lip quirked at the corner and then surprisingly he started to laugh. You just stared at him dumbfounded.

“You’ve got to laugh, it’s so absurd.” He chuckled, probably the most you’d heard him laugh before. “I’m a fucking basket case, it’s okay to laugh. If I don’t laugh I’ll…”

“Dissociate?” You quipped back. 

“Exactly.” He laughed harder, amused tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Oh god I’m a mess.” 

His laugh was infectious and you found yourself joining in despite yourself. It really wasn’t at all funny but sometimes you had to laugh in the face of extreme adversity or you would crumble. 

The two of you sat by the lakes edge laughing until you were crying, crying until you couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t until the laughter subsided that you realised Spencer was holding your hand. 

It grew quiet again and he simply stared at you, clutching your hand in his own. You reached forward tentatively with your other hand, waiting for his okay in the form of a nod before you touched him. 

You gently wiped his tears from his cheeks and he hummed at your feather light caress. For a few minutes you stayed like this until you were ripped apart by the sound of content neighing from behind you. 

You sprung apart as though burned and you both looked up towards your horses who had managed to manoeuvre themselves closer together. 

It was hard to say who was more surprised by the sight of Willow amicably nuzzling her face against Rusty’s.  

“Are they…?” 

“Making friends.” Spencer nodded with a smile. 

“Well I’ll be damned.” You smiled too.

“That horse of yours has some kind of magic about her.” Spencer sighed wistfully, leaning closer to you again. “Just like you.” 

And when he kissed you again, you were certain that it was him and not you who was magic. 

***

Doctor Camilla Ortega was a local therapist who specialised in anxiety, depression, trauma and PTSD. Her practice was in Pipe Creek but she had clinic hours out of the Essential Mental Wellness centre right in Bandera town once a week. 

Spencer didn’t know if he was fortunate or not that she happened to be able to fit him in the very next day. 

It had been some year and a half since he last sat in her office and was overcome with anxiety just being here. He ran his fingers over his cast, back and forth, back and forth, trying to remain tethered long enough to be able to speak.

She was probably less than ten years Spencer’s senior, with sharp green eyes and a discerning stare. She had a resting bitch face if Spencer had ever seen one, but she was surprisingly soft spoken and had a contrasting calmness about her. 

“It’s good to see you again, Spencer. Although I can only assume the reason you’ve come to see me again means that you’re not doing so well?” She narrowed her eyes on him.

“Not exactly, no.” He admitted. 

He didn’t want to open up about this but he also didn’t want to have to be visiting her every week. The quicker he got this out, the less time he might have to spend on her couch. 

“I met someone.” He blurted out, eyes trained just above her head so he didn’t have to look at her. “I met someone and she’s incredible but I can’t…I still can’t take that next step.” 

Doctor Ortega was silent for a beat or two, mulling over his words briefly. 

“Have you initiated any form of intimacy thus far?” She jumped right in. 

“I, uh, I still can’t let her touch me and we haven’t had intercourse. But we kissed and, uh, I touched her. And I have gotten…erect. Twice. And uh, I also reached completion twice.” His cheeks and neck flushed red. God how he hated talking about this. 

“Without penile stimulation?” 

His face scrunched up and he nodded reluctantly. 

“And how did you feel after?” She prodded. 

“Well, uh, the first time I ran away and locked myself in the bathroom. The second time I ran away and locked myself in the bathroom, cried and vomited and then dissociated.” He forced the words out rapidly. “Typical stuff.” 

Ortega sucked in a breath and he heard her scrawling some notes down. 

“You hadn’t had a dissociative break in a while last time I saw you, isn’t that correct?” 

“Yes. But I’ve had three as of late.” He spoke but then continued. “It’s not her fault. I just…I can’t allow myself to enjoy being aroused without hearing their voices.” 

He didn’t need to divulge anymore than that, she knew who he meant. 

“Does she know what you suffered in prison? Have you spoken to her about it?” Doctor Ortega asked gently.

“No,” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I can’t tell her. She wouldn’t look at me the same.”

“How do you think she would look at you if she knew?” 

Spencer’s eyes flit to the doctor, his brows pinched together tightly. 

“Like I’m broken.” He said as though it was obvious. “Like I’m dirty.” 

Doctor Ortega put her pen down and laced her fingers together, sitting further forward in her chair. 

“Spencer, that is not how other people look at you. That is how you view yourself. Unfortunately it is a common sentiment in rape survivors to feel this way, like they are of no good to anyone, unworthy of affection. I think you would be surprised how she would react if you were just honest with her.” Doctor Ortega’s eyes were piercing into him. 

“I’m not telling her and that is the end of it.” He shook his head. “I just want to know how to move past this. It’s been nearly four years and I don’t feel any closer to getting over what happened to me now than I did then.” 

“Spencer, that’s not true.” She offered him a soft smile. “Eighteen months ago when I last saw you, you couldn’t even go on a date with someone. But now you’ve not only met someone but you have opened yourself up to intimacy again, even if it isn’t going as you planned. I for one am proud of how far you’ve come, I think you should be too.” 

“Proud?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I should be proud that I can’t come without being so overwhelmed with guilt that my brain has to divorce itself just to cope? I should be proud that I managed to bring her to orgasm before I had a complete mental breakdown which ended in me cutting myself? I should be goddamn proud that I can’t have sex with a wonderful, beautiful woman because I am so utterly broken that I can stop hearing the voices, seeing the faces of my rapists? Proud? Are you fucking kidding me!” He was on his feet, he didn’t remember standing up. 

The rage bubble was expanding, filling, moving higher up to his chest. His vision blurred and he wobbled on his feet. 

Here we fucking go, was his last coherent thought before the world around him became shrouded in darkness.

***

He blinked several times, sitting up with a start. His heart was racing and his breathing was heavy. He glanced around the nondescript room through hazy eyes, trying to work out where he was.

He detected movement in the corner of his vision, a body edging closer until they were right in front of him, dropping to a crouch so their eyelines could meet. Doctor Ortega smiled sadly at Spencer as she held his gaze. 

“Are you okay?” She spoke softly and then something was being placed in his hand. 

He looked down to see the plastic cup of water he now held and quickly tossed it back.

“How long was I out?” He croaked despite the hydration.

“Only about ten minutes.” She pushed herself to stand but came and sat next to him on the couch. “Do you remember anything?” 

“No.” He shook his head. 

“You wanted to hurt yourself. You asked me several times to give you something sharp.” Ortega’s voice was a little strained. Spencer shook his head. “And you were yelling that you weren’t whole.” 

“Makes sense.” He grumbled. “I found a note you had me write myself, for my guided self talk.” And then he spoke verbatim. “I was sexually assaulted, but I am not a victim. I was coerced but I am not weak. I am in control of my own body, of my own mind. I will not let them win, I will not let them ruin my life. I didn’t deserve what happened to me. I am a good person. I am a strong person. I will move past this. I won't let them break me. I am still worthy of love and affection. I am still whole. I am still whole.”

“But you don’t believe a word of it.” She stated.

“No.” He agreed. “How the fuck can I still be whole when they took such a large piece of me?” 

He looked at her pleadingly as though she had all the answers. As if there was one thing she could say which would be the key to his recovery. Of course there was no such thing and he knew that. But he needed something, anything. 

“They only took from you what you let them take. What those men did to you was traumatic but you are the one in control of your own reactions to that trauma. You have let them take up this space in your brain for the last four years and every time you let them win, they grow and grow. The only way you are ever going to get over what happened to you is by persevering and I know that’s not the answer you’re looking for, but it's the truth. 

“I know you don’t see it but you have taken huge strides since the last time I saw you. You may keep experiencing this guilt during intimate moments but it will not last forever. I think you need to continue doing what you’re doing, putting yourself in scary situations and seeing how you react to them. Next time your experience will probably be much the same, and no doubt the time after that too. 

“But eventually, and I can promise you this, eventually you will be able to push yourself further without repercussions. You will find one day you are able to give yourself over completely to this woman and what happened to you will be the furthest thing from your mind. The reason you are still struggling so much after all this time is because you couldn’t put yourself back out there. And although this seems terrifying, I can assure it is the first step towards healing. And I’m proud of you whether you like it or not.” 

Spencer was crying by the time she finished speaking and he was nodding his head slowly in understanding. Perhaps she was right, perhaps now he was allowing himself to get close to someone he would eventually be able to move past this. 

It might get a hell of a lot harder before it gets any better, but if he didn’t keep pushing through he would be at square one forever. Like anything in life worth having, it was going to be difficult, but for the first time he believed it might actually be possible. 

“Th-thank you.” He sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “I think I needed to hear that.” 

“I do believe you can get better, Spencer and I don’t think you need my help to do that. I’ve given you all the tools, you have to be willing to put in the work now.” She pushed herself up and made her way across to her desk. “That being said, I would like to up your dosage of paroxetine just a little. And I want you to make a concerted effort to remember your grounding exercises when you feel a dissociative episode coming on.” 

“I’ll try.” He nodded in agreement. 

A few minutes later he was leaving with a new prescription, sore eyes and a new perspective on his situation. 

He found you in the driver’s seat of your car, thumbing through a book he recognised from his own collection. You closed it when the door opened and smiled softly at him. 

“How did it go?” You asked as he slid into the passenger’s seat. 

Spencer didn’t reply. He was too exhausted to speak. Instead he leaned across the central console and smashed his lips against yours. You gasped in surprise and he edged his tongue into your mouth. 

The kiss only lasted a minute or so but it was more charged than any kiss you’d ever shared before. When he pulled back, you were looking at him in shock.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” You chuckled a little. 

“A thank you, I guess.” He shrugged. “It might not seem like it but I am making progress. And I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Your eyes welled at his sentiment and without thinking about it you reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

And it wasn’t lost on either of you that for the first time, he didn’t flinch at your unexpected touch. 

@kalulakunundrum @voledart @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @marvellover1819 @babyspiderling

[supernatural-bias]

—amsterdam

SUMMARY | agreeing to come along with the group to amsterdam to participate in not one, but two tom simons videos, can get a little crazy

PAIRING | cc!tommyinnit x reader

REQUESTED | no

WORD COUNT | 1.1k+

AUTHORS NOTES | the tom simons channel is probably my favorite vlog channel ever

📹 Masterlist 📹 Navigation 📹 Rules 📹

This was the third time Charlie had destroyed your lego creation, and you were this close to locking him out of the room.

"I swear to god you fucker—" Another blocky build crumbled to peices as the brunette slapped his hand down on your own pair, laughing good naturedly all the while.

"Phiiiiil!" You turned your torso halfway to whine at the other man in the generic hotel room, who was looking at his phone blandly while resting on the foot of a bed opposite you. "Tell Charlie to stop being an asshole before I bite him!"

"Stop being an asshole to them Charlie before they bite you. And they will, it's not just a threat mate." The middle aged man echoed back without so much as looking up from his phone.

"Wow. Gee thanks Phil. Glad to know my pain and suffering is less important than your phon—Charlie I swear to fucking god!! One more time, and I mean it, one more time and I'm going to sic Tubbo on you in the video tomorrow!" You had since stopped looking at Phil, now scooping as many stray legos as you could close to your chest while Charlie attempted to steal them away from you.

"I paid for these with my own twitch prime! Back! Back, I say."

"Noooo." Charlie made a sound that reminded you of a gremlin, wiggling his fingers comically while trying to take more out of your pile. "The lego goblin must have his legos!!! Otherwise he may become, the tickle monster!"

"Oh no he fucking wont." You deadpanned at Charlie. He just smiled back at you innocently before wiggling his fingers once more and lunging for you, nearly knocking you both into Phil on the other bed with the effort of it.

"Take that, you hoarder!" He laughed, glasses knocked askew as his hands viciously attacked your sides with pokes and jabs as you screamed.

"Jesus fucking christ you two!!" Phil was looking at the both of you on the floor, clutching his phone to his chest in surprise while laughing.

"Phil! Help me! I'm dying! Tell my wife that—that I love her." You choked out a surprisingly loud and shocking gasp before going limp, your tounge dramatically lolling out of your mouth the way a cartoon character's might.

It was a lot harder than you thought it would be to hold in your laughter as you watched Charlie fall to his knees somberly, listening as he wailed on about how he had 'killed' you. It was even harder when you got a glimpse of Phil sitting above you, stuffing his fist in his mouth to try not to laugh at the two of you.

"—ow will I ever redeem myself!? I'll be tried in court, given years of prison time! I'll never make it in there! I'm too soft, too—oh hey Tommy."

You immediately scrambled to get to your feet alongside Charlie at that revelation, the both of you adjusting your disheviled appearances the best you could all while Phil cackled.

"Hey Toms." You smiled crookedly, trying to look nonchalaunt as possible while looking at the confused face of the boy currently peaking his head into your hotel room. Light from the hallway was now peaking into the room, washing over the few shadows left from spare luggage and souvenir bags people had left lying on the floor.

"What the fuck are you guys doing in here?" He furrowed his brows, laughing lightly at how put of breath everyone was. "We can hear you all the way across the wall. Wil sent me over here to get you to shut up. Managment was looking pretty upset when I was making my way over here too. Might be because I stole some candy from the reception desk earlier too though." He muttered the last bit quieter, covering it up poorly with a cough before looking back at you.

"Oh. Uh, sorry about that. Well, I died for a little bit, I think?" You scratched the back of your neck. Charlie nodded vigorously. A bit too vigorously to be discussing the topic of your supposed death if you were being honest.

"Yes. And from natural causes. Definitely not murder of any sorts! No, not at all! An all natural one. All natural death that is."

Tommy just tilted his head in Phil's direction, clearly not believing either of your very convincing tales.

"They were having a tickle fight over the legos you lot bought earlier." He ignored you and Charlie's whines to shut up as he talked to Tommy, who by now was laughing.

"A tickle fight?" He stepped forward and closed the door behind him, blue eyes shining with mischief as he grinned. "Without me? For shame you bastards."

"No. Tommy dont you dare, I know what you're thinking, mate. No no no I'm not about to let all of you just—and there you go. For christ's sake, Wil's going to kill me."

Phil backed away further on the bed, just nearly being missed as Tommy jumped onto Charlie and sent him sprawling, the two of them rolling around in a blur of colors in the hotel room while each tried to overpower the other.

You yourself were practically kneeling over with laughter, pumping a fist in the air while rooting for Tommy, only stopping at one point to pick up Charlie's glasses off the ground so they wouldn't get crushed in all the chaos.

It didn't last long, really, before Charlie let out a guttural cry and replicated what you had done earlier, falling limp as if he was now nothing but a corpse on a battlefield.

"And the winner is Tommathy Innit!!" You hollered cheerfully despite the groans of Phil to shut up, beaming at Tommy as he stood triumphantly, Charlie laying on the ground below spread out like a starfish. A very sweaty, very exhausted starfish. You imagined that you didn't look much different from him at the time though.

"Thank you, thank you! Really!" Tommy was now parading around the small confines of the room with his nose in the air. Doing what sounded like a very bad impression of a snooty car salesman as he went. "I'd like to thank my many wives, including Philza Minecraft's, and—oof!"

Everyone laughed as they watched Tommy shakily raise a fist from where he was now lying face first on the carpet, shooting a thumbs up to let you all know that he was okay from his sudden trip over a luggage bag.

"Graceful mate. Real graceful. Watch out for the suitcases next time though, Tommy."

"Fuck you lot." Was all he said before dissolving into laughter, most everyone following suit.

[rainintheevening]

🍁🍁Comfy-vember🍁🍁

Day 2: Holding hands | Day 3: Forehead kiss

Grant Ward & Phil Coulson, Agents of SHIELD, AU

-------

The call came at 10pm, as he walked to the car waiting at the curb; ring of his personal cell phone catching him up short.

Hospital. Grant injured. Concussion. Broken leg. Broken ribs. Cuts and scrapes. A car crash. Others more severely wounded. Grant just going in to surgery for the leg.

"He told me not to call, but he doesn’t have anyone else listed, and he's in so much pain, I just thought..." The woman's voice trailed off uncertainly.

"Thank you," Phil said quietly, waving the agent at the wheel of the SHIELD issue car over, as other travelers coming and going from the airport swarmed around him. "I’ll be there as soon as I can. Five to seven hours. I'm in DC."

"Oh, I didn't realize–"

"I want to know," Phil interrupted, needing to wind this conversation up and find the first flight back to Klamath Falls. "Thank you for calling me. Tell him I'm coming."

"Of course. Travel safely, Mister Coulson."

He was speaking before he'd hung up the call. "Agent–"

"Coughey, sir."

"Agent Coughey, I have to go back to Oregon. Family emergency. Tell Agent Garrett he can call me tomorrow. Good luck."

The young man's startled look might have made Phil laugh, if he wasn't in such a hurry, and he'd already turned away, scooping up his bag to hurry back into the airport.

Garrett would be furious, but he could find someone else for this mission. Maybe Agent May. Grant came first; Phil had felt that for some time now, but this was the first real test of his determination. Just because Grant was 18 now, didn't mean Phil's responsibility was over. The nurse had said he was in pain—rarely did Grant show physical weakness like that, and for him to do so in front of strangers meant it had to be bad. That was his kid, dammit, and Grant needed him. Thank goodness the call had come before he left the airport.

There was a flight back to Portland in two hours. He sat and watched the people move, wondering who Grant had been with, which parents were sitting at the hospital watching over their sons.

Time could move so slow.

It was 3:26am Pacific Time when a nurse finally showed him into a room, curtain half drawn around one bed, the other empty.

"He's been asleep for awhile. The surgery went well, and his leg should be fine. The concussion and ribs will more of the challenge over the next few days."

Phil only half heard the young man talking as he moved to lean over Grant, assessing his injuries and trying to settle his own quick-beating heart. Small bandage on one side of his head above the right ear. Face cut and scraped. Stitches on the inside of his left forearm; maybe 10? Left leg in a cast. No doubt the ribs were taped, under the rumpled hospital gown.

He slept heavy, face turned toward the door, but he did not stir at their entrance, not even when something began to beep, loud and insistent.

"Sorry." The young nurse hit a button, and the beeping stopped, both of them pretending Phil hadn't jerked like he'd been shot. "Morphine's out. I'll go grab some more real quick. If he wakes up before I get back, try to keep him calm."

Right.

Phil took a deep breath, collected a chair from the corner by the window, sat careful by the bed, turned to face Grant. He'd seen plenty of badly injured, even dead, friends. Why then did his hands tremble, and his heart ache like a knife sat against the inside of his ribs, and tears sit in his eyes?

"Grant."

His voice sounded too loud in the dim room, too loud to still hear the kid's breathing.

"Grant," he whispered. "Sorry it took me so long. Got a buddy to fly me from Portland. I came as quickly as I could."

No extra movement, and he couldn't think of anything else to say. He wanted to take the boy's hand, but he couldn't remember having actually held it before. Only in handshakes or pulling Grant up after a break on the basketball court. Not as a form of comfort.

He listened to the boy breathe, for a while.

When he stirred, Phil caught his breath, sniffed, swiped a hand hastily across his cheeks. "Grant?"

Moaning, soft at first, then louder, mixed with gasps and grunts as he tried to move, found only pain. Dark eyes squinted, squeezed shut again, as fists clenched in the sheets.

"Dad? Dad?"

"I'm here." Phil had to clear his throat. "Grant, I'm here. I'm here, son."

Grant's unfocused gaze drifted toward his voice, but he was breathing faster now, making the pain worse.

"Dad? Dad!" It was sharp, almost a cry, and Phil felt his heart break. He grabbed Grant's closest hand, tried not to flinch as frantic fingers tangled awkward and sharp with his.

"Hey. Hey, listen to me, son. I'm here. I'm right here. I came. Of course I came."

He'd never seen Grant so lost, so vulnerable, so wild. Even Lady's death hadn't left him this unaware. And of course his physical reaction to the pain was just making the pain worse.

A few sharp swears, before Grant squeezed out, "Dad?" Quieter, even a little hopeful.

"I'm here."

Grant didn't call him that very often; only when emotion let it slip, or he thought an occasion called for it's deliberate use. This was different though, raw, instinctive, even primal. As if Phil was the only thing he thought could help him, and the first thing he connected with Phil was Dad.

The grip on Phil's hand did not ease, but the moans faded to whimpers.

"It's the ribs. You have to calm down, breathe slower. Don't try to move so much. A busted rib is like the fires of Hell. Trust me, I know. Broke my first rib when I was 21, fresh out of the Academy."

"Head," came the hoarse whisper.

"Yeah, that'll hurt too. Hit it pretty hard, they told me." He kept his voice down, not wanting to increase that pain either. Where was that nurse?! "Hang on, Grant. They're getting you more of the good stuff."

A long moment of laboured breathing and small sounds of agony that tore at Phil's heart.

"You. Left."

"But I came right back."

"Can't. 'member."

"It's okay, that's the concussion. And the pain. You might remember tomorrow."

He knew Grant had taken the worst of it; the impact of an unseen stop sign and a misplaced tree. The other two boys were nursing bumps, bruises, and whiplash.

"I'm here," he said again, found the wide dark eyes. "Right here."

A rush of scrubs and a different nurse, all apologies and concern as she hooked up the new bag of morphine. Grant went silent and almost still, only his grimace and hitched breathing indicating his discomfort. His grip on Phil's hand still did not slacken; there'd be bruises there tomorrow.

"So sorry, loves. Rory got called off. You'll have to give it a couple minutes, but it should be quick. Promise, honey." A smile and a pat on Grant's shoulder.

He flinched, and Phil could have sworn he heard the kid's teeth creak.

"I'll be back in a few to check. Sorry, loves. Busy night." She whisked out again.

An awful noise escaped Grant, mixed with a gust of the breath he'd been holding.

When he could speak again: "Tramp? Missy?"

Phil nodded. "Mrs. Beetson's got them." The big mutt and his feline companion loved the neighbour couple almost as much as they loved Grant and Phil. "They'll be alright for the night. I'll check on them tomorrow."

Trust Grant to worry about his pets.

And already Grant was going quiet, his breathing settling into a healthier rhythm, his fingers starting to relax.

"You should sleep now," Phil said softly, gingerly rubbing his tingling thumb over the back of the Grant's hand. "It'll help you heal. And I'll stay here. I'll be here the whole time, okay?"

"Okay." A soft whisper, more child than man.

Worn from the pain, he quickly succumbed to the sweet relief, eyes drifting shut as Phil talked softly of his flights, the people he'd seen, and the weather they'd had.

"Out like a light, poor thing." The older woman nurse was back, quietly checking screens on machines, and smoothing his twisted sheets. "Doesn't matter how big they get—when they're hurting they need their daddy or mommy." Now she patted Phil's shoulder on the way out. "I'll get you a cloth; you can wipe some of that sweat off, poor love."

The touch of damp cloth on hot forehead brought a further sense of relaxation from Grant, and Phil found himself reminded of his own mother, her gentle hands when he'd been ill as a child. He tried to clean his own son's face with the same tenderness, careful of the scrape along one cheek. Stroked back damp black hair, wincing at the thought of Grant discovering the shaved (and bandaged) spot.

"Shouldn't be vain about your hair," he said aloud. "Whatever you do with it, you'll have to chop it off when you get into the Academy."

Not if, when. Because he had no doubts his kid could do it.

"I'm glad you're alive," he whispered, leaned down to kiss warm skin over temple.

Suddenly self-conscious, even in the near-dark, he moved to drape the cloth over the bar at the foot of the bed. He sat again in the chair, slid his hand gently under Grant's, gave it a little squeeze.

"I'll be right here."

---

Grant woke slowly to soft light through the window, and the sight of Coulson slumped over on the side of his hospital bed, head pillowed in his arms, one hand wrapped warm around Grant's fingers, holding onto him even in his sleep.

Like a dad should be.

His dad.

My dad.

[guppybubbles]

Sweet Dreams are Made of This. [1/3]

(A/N: Kind of a sequel to my other fic, ROLL ME A 6 ! :> You don't need to read that though to understand this!)

Borrower Tommy accidentally shifts into a universe where his homebrew DND world is real. He still sucks at being a giant.

WORD COUNT: 1,341 words

WARNINGS: None.

"Tommy opened his eyes and what he saw was unlike anything he's seen before…"

Tommy listened in anticipation. What could it be? A new friend, a new foe? He looked at his dad, a smug little smile barely hidden by his serious storytelling.

 

"And we'll find that out in the next session."

Halfway through his sentence, he and his brothers already knew it was the end of their game for the day. All groaning and complaining about Phil leaving it in such a dumb cliffhanger, Phil only laughed. 

It couldn't have been hours already, had it? They barely started! He still had to redeem himself and his character into great glory! "No, come on, let's do one more hour— please, please?" He begged, holding onto one of Phil's fingers like he had all the power to hold him down and force him into another round. 

With his other hand, Phil picked up the die and tossed it into the container— folding up the map before putting it back in the box. Tommy knew it was over, they'd start another session again sooner or later. 

But he wanted to do another hour, or maybe two more, now. "Pleasee, I rolled so low every turn, I need to redeem myself!" 

"I wish we could continue, mate." Phil smiled, "But I got work tomorrow and it's already…" He stared at the clock, making a surprised sound at the 11:48 PM on the wall. Phil cursed under his breath, gently, slowly pulling his hand away from Tommy’s hold. "Alright, get to bed you three." 

The blond borrower knew there was no convincing Dad anymore. He crossed his arms with a humph, upset with his bad luck during the game. "Cheer up, Toms! I'm sure luck will make you do justice next time." Wilbur consoled, pushing his chair into the table and picking up the box with their fantasy map and die. 

“You are horrible at throwing the die for me,” Tommy grumbled, narrowing his eyes at his older brother who had offered to throw the dice for him earlier. Wilbur’s luck when it came to the game was pretty good, yet whenever he tossed the die for Tommy, the luck seemed to plummet- doing worse than when the borrower himself threw the die. 

In the corner of his eyes, he could see Wilbur’s lips press into a thin line. He was stopping himself from being amused at Tommy’s anger. “It really wasn’t on purpose.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Tommy replied. Not upset at Wilbur, nor was he upset at the game. He swears he would be able to throw the dice better if he was just… more human-sized. 

“You’ll do better next game, I’ll make sure of it,” Wilbur promises.

Tommy looks at him incredulously, slightly laughing. “What, are we gonna cheat or something?”

In response, Wilbur shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Dunno, maybe.”

Holding the game board, he placed his other hand on the desk. A trust exercise that slowly grew into a habit none of them thought was strange anymore, Tommy hopped on the hand and held onto the fingers for support. He used to have to walk from place to place, no matter how far it was because the big man was too stubborn to accept and ask for help. In response, they all worked together to install little stairs everywhere so Tommy would at least be able to reach things without having to heave himself up with a rope and a hook. He almost cried in front of them because of how much he appreciated the gesture. 

That night, Tommy lay in his bed, uncharacteristically quiet as he stared at the ceiling. His room looked so much like a human's room- constructed by his family after nearly a year of accidentally revealing himself to them. It wasn’t exactly like him to be upset for the dice throws during the game, it really wasn’t Wilbur’s fault. On a good day, he throws exceptionally well for Tommy’s character too. 

But Tommy isn’t upset about the dice, is he?

It was never the dice, never Wilbur, never his family, but him. 

If he was truly meant to be their family, then couldn’t the universe make him human? Did he seriously have to be something that was never allowed to mingle with larger beings? It was a written code since the beginning of time that borrowers were never allowed to be with humans. Never share anything, what you are, what your name was. Most importantly, never be seen. 

Were they never supposed to be a family then? Did he have to break the borrower’s code just to be a part of something he’s not supposed to? He’s not a borrower anymore, he knows that. He barely even follows the code anymore, but he’s not human either. Too exposed to be a borrower, too small to be a human.

Then what was he?

Tommy released a loud, exasperated sigh. His calloused hands rubbed over his face. He knows he shouldn’t think about such things, but lately, he’s been more aware than ever. He notices how Techno looms over him when they do woodwork together, Wilbur’s singing voice goes from soothing to too loud, and Phil barely gives him any chores (Maybe he shouldn’t complain about that one, actually).

They don’t mean it, of course, they didn’t. They probably don’t even notice it as well. Something so small and insignificant to them could be so overwhelming for him. He just wants to be bigger, to fit in… 

He should go to sleep. He'll forget about it tomorrow and everything will continue on like it usually does (until the nagging feeling returns and he feels like he's rotting in bed).

Goodnight, me. Tommy closed his eyes, unable to rid of the heavy weight in his chest. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If Tommy could recall this correctly— and while he may not have the best memory, he can certainly tell when something is just plain wrong… He fell asleep on his bed, right?

His eyes blurred as he gained consciousness and though he wasn't aware of where he was— he could sense danger even from a mile away. His shoulders ached, raised high above him. Something was holding his arms upwards. Cold, tight metal gripping his wrists, uncomfortably pressing into his skin. He tried tugging it downwards, but it barely moved. 

Instead of lying on a soft, warm bed, it felt like he'd been kneeling for Prime knows how long. His legs felt numb, ringing uncomfortably no matter how much he tried to move. It didn't matter because he was stuck in place. 

It was hot. Sweat was dripping from his forehead to his nose and down to either his clothes or the floor (he made a mental note that he wasn’t wearing his pajamas). 

He sucked in a deep breath, humid air filling his lungs in a way that didn't calm him down, but just made him panic more. 

Tommy's vision began clearing up and despite the little ache in his neck, he decided to look around. The room was dimly lit, weak artificial lighting barely reflecting the big, metal room he resided in. 

There were mini stairs and platforms built around him. The platforms in front of him connected through the middle and had a door on each side of the wall. Above the platform in the wall in front of him was glass, he couldn't make out anything inside, it was darker than the room he was in.

The metal room he sat in was quite spacey. The ceiling was quite high but he couldn't stand up even if he attempted to— his ankles were chained as well, shorter in length compared to the ones around his wrist. Tommy struggled against the chains, everything looked so.. small yet so oddly detailed. 

Where was he? Who were these stairs for? Were there more beings smaller than a borrower? Prime, how would they even look next to a human?

Does his family know where he is right now..?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

yayaya thank you sm for reading! & holy shit guppy writing fics comeback??? no way!!!

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Ambiguous/Undefined Relationship Masterlist

A Bad Case of the Jitters (ao3) - INeverHadMyInternetPhase (BirbWatcher)

Summary: Phil has night-before jitters with the release of tatinof coming tomorrow, but Dan is there to comfort him, as ever.

Appreciation Letters (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Two different chapters, showing each perspective.

Dan sits down to write about his life with the most amazing man he knows and how much he values all that he’s done for him.

Phil sits down to write about how thankful he is for the guy, who persistently commented on his early videos and the life they’ve built together.

banter™ (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: A normal conversation in the Phlat.

{ also }

Dan and Phil reply to a tweet asking if they're gay.

Counting stars (ao3) - xlogophile

Summary: Phil really likes Dan's sun-freckles, basically.

"Did you ever doubt your dreams will ever come true?" (ao3) - natigail

Summary: As Phil reads out the question, Dan’s involuntary reaction is to smile and glance towards him. He hides it pretty well during the live show but as soon as it’s over, he begins to fully appreciate that his dream did come true

Don't do it again (ao3) - winstonlives

Summary: Dan just reached 6 million subscribers. Causes a little irritation between the guy's, but not for the reason one might think.

Freckles and Constellations (ao3) - xlogophile

Summary: Phil wakes up to the tickling of what he assumes is a pen tracing shapes on his back. He was hoping to sleep in a bit more after a late night of gaming but art demands sacrifices, I guess.

Fuck Your Cereal (ao3) - cyanica

Summary: Four times Dan got justice for his cereal, and one time where Phil won their prank war using a person's certain first video... that's still on the internet for some reason.

I Will See (ao3) - hahasami

Summary: They're best friends, but nobody knows, not the drama elective he started a year later, and not really himself.

...until he lets it happen.

(it being that weird warmth in his chest)

in another universe (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: This was it. Phil wasn’t sure what it was, but he felt that it was now or never. He lifted his gaze and focused on Dan, the intensity with with which he did seemingly disturbing his flatmate. Dan eyed him dubiously, and before the other could open his mouth, Phil was blurting, “Let’s fuse.”

Dan blinked, then blinked again, looking as if he were about to say something before thinking better of it and simply staring with knitted brows. “You’re serious?” he finally asked apparently upon noting the lack of mirth on Phil’s face.

“Yeah,” Phil replied firmly, though he wrung his hands nervously in his lap.

intermediately versed in your own feelings (ao3) - templeofshame

Summary: They’re down to ten days and Phil just wants to be excited. He wants to tweet 10 days!!! or 9 soon =] and ramble at Dan on Skype and go to sleep eager for time to get on with it. He doesn’t want to be staring at Dan’s Twitter, scrolling up and down through Tweets and replies, trying to decode them in a way that doesn’t make anything in his gut sink.

Just Take A Shower (ao3) - phandoe

Summary: Dan is depressed. Phil loves him.

Morning Routine (more or less) (ao3) - MagicAndConstellations

Summary: Phil steals Dan’s cereal, Dan retaliates, the tags speak for themselves

of all new things, you were my favourite (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan is a curious non-binary alien who doesn’t understand human culture but really likes to wear pastel pink skirts. And aliens, Phil learns, are a lot to handle – or maybe that’s just Dan.

On Tour Bus Beds (ao3) - katiecal1013

Summary: “Best buddies can share a bed!” - Phil Lester, 2024

Right Where You're Meant to Be (ao3) - fisshhhh

Summary: Dan just got back from being on tour for 2 and a half months.

Ten Things (ao3) - thatsmistertoyou

Summary: Ten things Dan and Phil know about each other, and one thing they don't.

[imyourjettt]

Kiss Them

Pairing: Phillip Graves x f!Reader

Word Count: 571

Warnings: Domestic graves, fluff, implied sexual content

Summary: Phillip Graves is one to hate public affection, but when he's alone with you he can't keep his hands off of you.

Author's Note: Graves brainrot is real- I will eventually write for other characters but please deal with this for now. Something short and sweet because I can't get enough of domestic graves.

Phillip Graves, your boyfriend who was also the CEO of the Shadow Company hated public affection. He explained all the time- he had an image and reputation to keep up around the Shadows. You respected it to the fullest since you could kind of understand where he was coming from. However, you always found it funny how different he was around you when you were alone. For a man who hated public affection, he sure did like affection when it was just the two of you. He was almost a different person, the first time you saw the switch it almost shocked you. But you enjoyed every last moment of it. But no matter if he was affectionate with you in public or not, you were head of heels for him.  

One day when you were both alone, on the premise of your home you were staring at him a lot more than usual. He immediately noticed. "What's will all the starin' today, hun?" he asks.

You shrug, "I don't know what you're talking about." 

He turns his full attention over to you, "You know what I'm talkin' about. You keep starin'. What's wrong?" he asks worriedly. 

You laugh at his sudden change in tone, "Nothing is wrong Phil, I just like looking at you." you say reassuringly. 

"Well if that's the case, then keep on lookin'." he grins and continues back to what he was doing.

You let your eyes wander, today he is wearing a blue button-up shirt, and some work jeans. You always loved when he wore anything blue, it always made his eyes even brighter. The simple things he would wear would always make him look so much more good-looking. The smell of the cologne he wears lingers in the air every time he walks past you. You couldn't get enough of this man, and the fact he couldn't get enough of you either was mind-blowing. 

He finishes what he was doing and makes his way back over to you, "Hun, do we have any plans today?" he asks.

All you could get from his question was the last few words, you were so out of it staring at him. You didn't know what was wrong with you, you just really wanted to admire him right here, right now.

A grin appears on his face, he walks closer to you and gently places a kiss on your forehead, "You must really love me, if you're lookin' at me this much, huh?" 

You smile up at him and wrap your arms around his neck looking into his eyes, "I can't get enough of you sometimes Mr. Graves." 

He laughs at the sudden name change. He closes the distance between you and him and kisses you sweetly. Whenever he kisses you, it felt as if the whole world disappeared. He would put his whole focus on you and only you. He stands up straighter, leaning into the kiss causing you to stumble back. While his hands travel up your body and he grins against your lips. 

You break the kiss and gaze into his eyes, "I love you and your lips." you suddenly blurt out. 

He couldn't contain his laughter, he quickly gives you small pecks of kisses all over your face. Once he's satisfied he looks back into your eyes, "So kiss them." 

"Gladly." You pull his body into yours and kiss him like there is no tomorrow.

[eliotquillon]

would you be kind enough to give us some chameron spoilers for your time loop fic?

(sorry i’ll never stop pulling out this screenshot from my original rough draft outline)

so full disclaimer that one of the reasons why it’s taking me so bloody long to update/get stuff written is because chameron are giving me PROBLEMS!!! which is very fitting i suppose. the vision is that the fic ends not with chase and cameron ‘officially’ together, but with the understanding that things will be heading in that direction if cameron doesn’t immediately fall back into her old pre-loop habits — i am very, very fond of the way they get together in canon in the s3 finale, so it will be pretty similar to that in some ways. i am just having a little trouble getting them to that point. but as for a rough outline:

cameron sleeps with chase again pretty early in the loop - so far it’s looking like this’ll happen in chapter 4, but i might switch things around a bit and stick it at the end of ch3 instead - but this is mostly as another last ditch attempt to fix the loop. this, duh, is not going to work. (also, apologies to anyone expecting smut from me: this will be fade to black soz. this fic is consuming my life as it is without me having to teach myself how to write passable hetero smut for the first time LMAO.) things are going to be ROUGH for a little while after that — remember their screaming match in chapter 2? yeah there’ll more where that came from because cameron is going to be playing the most admirable game of emotional hide and seek you’ve ever seen. but the setup of the loop does, (un)fortunately, make chase one of the best people for cameron to confide in: he is already concerned about her from the moment she walks in. he already knows something is up. he’s willing to distract foreman and house to get her alone and see if she’s okay. obviously he’s still thinking in terms of meth aftermath, but he’s also perceptive enough to realise that something is still up with her even when cameron goes through her song-and-dance ‘everything is fine’ routine with him, and that starts to wear her down eventually.

it’s tempting for cameron to confide in chase, because even when she gets more into the groove of things…she’s still in a time loop. she’s still scared. she wants to find a way out. it’s all the same reasons she slept with him on meth. he’s offering her the chance to talk it out every single reset, and then when she does cave and tell him and he immediately BELIEVES HER…cameron freaks. because what the hell! foreman didn’t believe her! neither did wilson! he doesn’t have any memory of telling her he wants to be someone she can confide in all the way back in the second loop, and yet he’s putting his money where his mouth is. and then she has to grapple with the fact that, well…she keeps coming back to him for a reason. she slept with him on meth for a reason. she’s telling him about the loops for a reason. there are a few loops where she does enough prodding and poking to get him to admit that maybe he doesn’t just want things to be a one-off, and then she has to work through that and confront the fact that, well, yeah. maybe he’s onto something. and tbh being in a time loop is great for this because again—she can’t run away. the closer to the end of the loop she gets, the more upset she is that he doesn’t remember what they talked about the day before. that’s really the start of the breaking-free process, tbh. cameron’s actually pretty careful in what she does in the loops compared to, say, phil in groundhog day—she’s permanently paranoid/hopeful that the loop will break tomorrow, and doesn’t want to completely risk ruining the future—but the chase thing is a real crossroads because she has to be vulnerable with the very real risk of it not paying off and then the action maybe sticking if the loop breaks. She’s really normal!!

anyway. they do fumble their way to a happy ending, or at least the possibility of one! it’s slowburn and there’s a lot of repression on cameron’s end (and a fair bit on chase’s) so it’s not PACKED with intense hot moments or whatever, but there will be something for everyone. they do get there in the end.

and bonus extract from ch3:

[writers-hes]

“get out.” - s. harrington x reader (OLD VERSION)

Steve tells you to get out of the car because of a disagreement. (asshole!steve, best friend!eddie, a bit of stancy) —just a blurb blurb

NEW VERSION NOW POSTED!

“It’s the same fucking thing all the time with you,” you complained. 

You didn’t know how you landed yourself in this again. When you agreed to date Steve for the first

time many months ago, he promised that you had nothing to worry about; that he was loyal to you and that you will both work on communication.

“And it’s the same shit with you. You’re always fucking—complaining about things that I can’t control,” he replied, swerving away from the trashbin that he almost hit. “Fuck!”

It was just some party, some stupid party that you both agreed to go to. Well, Steve wanted to go because his friends will be there. Robin, Eddie, and Nancy. The thing was, Nancy didn’t do anything. She just needed a friend because Jonathan had been dodgy and Steve was there. In fact, you love Nancy but Steve and her together in the bedroom of Phil Newton’s house? Not so much.

The worst part is, Steve had no plans to tell you. It wasn’t until you asked Robin where your boyfriend was that she answered, “I’m not supposed to tell you this so, please don’t tell Steve. He’s in Phil’s bedroom with Nancy.”

God, it filled you with dread. Worst case scenario—Nancy and Steve were fucking after professing that they still have feelings for each other.  But still, Steve promised. Right? So, you went upstairs and knocked on the door multiple times. Steve opened it with guilt written all over his face. Guilt dissolves into annoyance and you braced yourself.

“What,” he asked, his face tight. He was annoyed with Robin, really. She was the only one who knew where he was. He needed to comfort Nancy because Jonathan isn’t coming back to Hawkins for the break. You were taken aback by his snarky attitude.

“I, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Do you need anything?”

“Can we go home?” you asked. You hated tonight. You didn’t want to come here and Eddie left you for Nancy as soon as she areived with Robin. You were left to drink some lukewarm punch by the sofa. You saw Eddie but he was too busy dealing and you didn’t want to be a bother.

“Sure. Here are the keys. Go start the car and I’ll be down in ten minutes,” he replied, giving you the key before closing the door again.

You stood there, dumbfounded before stomping your way to his car. You would’ve left but you didn’t know where you were. Phil lived in the outskirts of Hawkins and Steve was supposed to be your ride. You slammed the door of Steve’s BMW when Eddie

“I can hear you stomping from the pool,” Eddie teased, leaning on the passenger window. “What’s wrong?”

“Steve is wrong,” you frowned. “He dragged me all the way here and ditched me as soon as he found Nancy. They’re upstairs,”

“Damn,” Eddie replied. Even he couldn’t provide comforting words. “Well, you’re with me. Super cool, super nice me,”

“Didn’t you sell me double the price when we first met?” you asked. True but it was an old gag that you shared with him. “I still haven’t received my rebates,”

“I give you enough free stuff, sweets. I should be the one getting rebates. I’m thinking of milkshakes,” he said, eyes widening. “I could just taste it! Oh, chocolate milkshake and because you’re so nice, burgers. I’ll pick you up tomorrow,”

“Eddie! I didn’t agree—“

“Yeah, yeah but you owe me.” he replied. “Also, did you know? I went to Lover's Lake the other day, right? Guess who I saw fucking in the woods. That

cheerleader with blonde hair and that kid from English? The one that reads loudly to himself,”

“No way,”

“Yes, way. I saw them! With my own eyes!” he exclaimed, making you chuckle loudly. Steve was frowning from behind Eddie. You looked so miserable when you talked to him earlier and now that you’re with Eddie you’re fucking laughing? Steve watched your smile fade away as he neared, his frown deepening. Eddie looked back, and whistled. “Hey, Steve,”

“Munson,” Steve replied. “Girlfriend and I are leaving,”

“Oh,” Eddie replied, nodding. He looks at you and mouths “scary”, making you laugh and Eddie leaves, jogging back to the pool for business.

That was how you found yourself in this situation, eyes and knees away from Steve, watching the dark trees blur at the speed of his car.

“Can’t control? I told you that your relationship with Nancy is bothering me and I find you alone in a room together?” you asked.

“It’s not like I can just say ‘Sorry, Nance. My girlfriend is so jealous of you, she doesn’t want us spending time together. Or should I?” Steve asked, venom dripping in his voice. “It’s the same shit with you and Eddie,”

“No, it isn’t. Eddie and I are friends. You weren’t there when everyone knows you were with Nancy in Phil’s fucking bedroom. Everyone except for me!” you replied, your voice raising in volume. “Same fucking shit, Steve. Same shit and I’m so tired of fighting.”

“You shouldn’t have come to the party, then,” he mutters and you pause, counting to ten to calm yourself down.

“It was you who wanted me there, remember? I didn’t want to attend that party but you dragged me. You ditched me the moment Nancy arrived. Do you remember? I don’t…I’m nit even sure if I want to be in the same soace with you right now.” you heaved, tears springing up your eyes. Steve could only hear how you didn’t want to be with him. Slowing down some street, you looked at him in confusion. You just really wanted to go home.

“Get the fuck out,” he mutters, looking at anywhere but you.

“Wh-what?”

“Get the fuck out,” he repeated. “You don’t want to be with me right? So get out.”

You stilled, looking at your surroundings. There was nothing but harrowing trees and a lone light. You nodded, rushing out of the door and watching as Steve sped away from you. When he was far enough, you let your shoulders deflate and sobbed. Where did it all go wrong? Steve was never like this with anyone. Why did he…dislike you so much? You walked back to the party, trying to remember the way.

It was so dark and Steve knew how much you hated walking in it. You didn’t know where you were and Steve knew how much you hated being lost. There were no sounds but the creek and the hooting of the owls and Steve knew how much you hated the silence.

Wrapping your arms to protect you from the darkness and the silence, you walked. You were rushing back because you didn’t know where you were and you were scared; so fucking scared of the night. You’ve been walking for how many minutes now and you could’ve called but there were no payphones anywhere. It was just the occasional street lamp and nothing else. Would you even risk hitching a ride if a car passes by?

“Fuck!” you cried, sobbing uncontrollably when your arm hung itself on some stray wire by the abandoned bus stop. The sting rips through your whole body, limping until the trees looked somewhat familiar.

Soon, you followed the loud bass of the speakers. Kids your age spilled out of the house and you followed from where they came from. The party. You were back from where you started. You shuddered, hoping to God that Eddie was there. Or maybe Robin. Fuck, Nancy, if she was the last resort. You just really wanted to go home.

It was Robin and Eddie who found you by the door. Apparently, there was some chick by the pool who was crying to herself. Descriptions matched what you wore that night and how you looked; there was no other choice than to rush to you. Sure enough, when they ran to the pool, you were there siyting by the edge. Black tears ran down your face, a scowl settled on your lips as you shielded yourself away from the world. Robin noticed the red on your arm, rushing towards your hunched figure.

Eddie was hot on her tails, hiding you under  his arms to quiet you down. They led you to Eddie’s van without any words; what should be explained anyway? Isn’t it enough? Your friends looked at each other while your body shook with sadness and frustration.

“S-sorry,” you managed, and you felt Eddie’s grim on your shoulder tighten.

“It’s okay,” Robin replied, opening the door for you. You curled into her when they were settled, Eddie starting his van to drive you back home.

“What happened?” Robin asked. Eddie’s eyes snapped towards you and she was about to say sorry when you replied.

“Steve told me to get out of his car in the middle of nowhere and left me,” you managed between sobs. Their hearts broke. You looked so small and forlorn; so defeated and empty. “I just wanted to go home. I don’t even want to anymore because he might be there.”

“It’s okay. We can go back to the trailer. You can share the bed with Robin and I’ll sleep on the couch.” Eddie assured before driving the trailer park with a crying girl on the passenger seat.

[pikmininaplane]

Fit lore!! I’d love to hear about your thoughts for Phil figuring out fits secret if you’d like to share, the same thought has been floating around in my head as well lol

OHOHOHOHO friend I love you /p I'm putting this under a read more because I. Ended up writing a lot more than intended–

So the thought came to me the day before Fit's lore, when Fit asked Phil if he'd be there the next day. Obviously it didn't mean anything else than "will you attend the event/will I see you tomorrow my friend ?", but my brain immediately went "what if Phil was involved in Fit's lore"

This, combined with the fact that I've been hoping someone would find out about qFit's secret or at least get sus of his behaviour, led me to believe that qPhil would be the best person that could find out about it, actually

'cause like– first of all, qPhil is probably the person qFit's closest to, without counting Ramón or any of the eggs. I mean, he's friendly towards most people, and gets along pretty well with qBad, qPac and qMike, but qPhil has literally given qFit access to his eggs' bunker, which, to my knowledge, he'd only given to qMissa and qWill, the fathers of said eggs, before. qPhil, who would probably have earned the #1 paranoid dad crown if qBBH hadn't been around, fully trusts qFit with his children.

And like I said, I really want someone to find out about qFit's secret, but like. Wouldn't it be more interesting if it were someone qFit is close to ? Someone qFit trusts, but also someone who trusts qFit ?

Also, as much as I want someone to know at least part of the truth, I don't want everything to be revealed to everyone yet, and I feel like most people, if they found out about qFit's secret, would reveal it to the others – some others, at least. Would qCellbit or qMaximus hide it from the Ordo Theoritas ? Would qBaghera, qForever or qBad hide it from each other ? Would the people actively investigating the island keep the existence of a third, unknown party to themselves ? Well... maybe. That is up to discussion. But they'd want to tell, at least, and that's not what I wish for.

Now qPhil ? qPhil is a lot less involved in the lore, or even in the RP itself (no shade, I love ccPhil, his character and the way he plays him) – he isn't even part of the Ordo Theoritas. He's not really interested in solving the island's mysteries – his priorities lie with the eggs and their safety.

I truly think qPhil would be a friend qFit could confide in. Because let's be real, qFit could probably use one – mans has been lying to everyone on the island for months, and the only one that knows part of his secret is Ramón, his 3 months old child, who he hasn't even told everything. Between that and the growing pressure (for real, what's with the cats appearing around him,,) qFit is under, he can't keep it all to himself forever.

I don't think qFit would tell him himself, though – and neither do I think qPhil would ask. I mean, even if he thinks qFit's chat messages are suspicious, he isn't the type to inquire about it.

... But accidents happen, y'know ?

[As he jumps down the elevator shaft, Phil can't quite shake off the feeling that something's wrong. That whatever Fit's doing down there, it isn't any of his business, and he should probably just go back up and tell Fit to meet him at his gym, or anywhere, really.

But, well. He's already there. Might as well go further.

The trail of torches leads him deeper and deeper, until it finally stops, in a tunnel like any other. But Phil isn't a fool. He can hear the faint tapping of keys.

It only takes him a few seconds to find the hidden entrance.

Fit stands up as he comes in.

The room is small, barely big enough to breathe, and dark. Its only light comes from the computer screen sitting on the wooden desk, in the middle of the room, between the two men.

Neither of them speak.

Phil can see the thoughts flashing behind Fit's eyes. He's certain of it now, he's found something he shouldn't have found, and Fit has yet to decide how to react. Unconsciously, his hand has moved closer to his trident; consciously, Phil prepares himself to grab his sword.

But Fit doesn't attack. He simply places his hand in front of himself and gives Phil an awkward yet friendly smile.

"Hey, Phil ! Didn't expect to see you there... !"

Phil wishes he could just return his smile and pretend like nothing’s wrong. Ignore what he’s seeing and go back to Chayanne and Tallulah.

... but it's a little too late for that, isn't it ?

"Oi, mate," he calls out as he crosses his arms. "What are you up to."]

... something about leitmotivs and Phil finding out people's secrets by walking into their secret underground rooms...

So yeah, TL;DR: I want someone to find out about qFit’s secret because it’s a shame such a huge share of the lore is kept, well, secret, and I think qPhil would be a perfect first confident because they’re really good friends and he wouldn’t just tell anyone :] Plus I love their relationship and I’d love to see it being explored more please I’m begging

(Also I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one who's been thinking about it and I'd love to hear your own thoughts if you're willing to share them 👀)

[themculibrary]

Maria/Natasha Masterlist 2

part one

And We Will Come Back Home (ao3) - fairywriter G, 1k

Summary: In the few seconds that were her own Natasha would bring out her phone and call Maria’s number just to hear her voice.

a normal, adult friendship (ao3) - basha N/R, 6k

Summary: Maria Hill and Steve Rogers decide to try a normal, adult friendship. They bond over their love of the Dodgers, their sexualities, and their hopeless crushes on Russian ex-assassins.

a thing that wants (ao3) - magdaliny E, 5k

Summary: “Hey, Steve,” Bucky says. “We’re gonna find Nat a dame, okay?”

Natasha shoves him into the pool.

Confessions of an Angel (ao3) - keiko48460 M, 129k

Summary: Maria Hill, is on the run from the government who betrayed her. She finds sanctuary with Shield but a war is coming, and her past is lurking around every corner.

Fury believes she can lead the Avengers. Maria thinks she belongs in a cage. Will she learn to control her powers with the help of the Avengers and Shield or will the darkness within her consume everything she hold dear?

Darling, so it goes (ao3) - TheTruthAboutLove M, 31k

Summary: In 2055, after HYDRA has taken over, but Fury is organizing a resistance cell in Chicago, he runs into a young Maria Hill and takes her in, having no idea of her full potential. In NYC, Tony Stark is covertly leading the rebellion in another, larger-scale fashion, with the help of Natasha Romanoff.

don't bring tomorrow (i'll lose you) (ao3) - dephinecormier M, 1k

Summary: “Just because we’ve fucked for years doesn’t mean that you know me.” Maria shoves Natasha back once more, pushing until the back of Natasha’s knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Well, clearly I don’t.” Natasha growls out, ripping herself out of Maria’s grip and flips them cleanly. Maria stifles a gasp as Natasha kicks her legs out from under her and slams her down on the bed. Her elbow digs sharply into Maria’s chest as she presses down, leaning in.

#girlavenger, or How Natasha Trended on Twitter and Saved the World (ao3) - burritosong T, 5k

Summary: Natasha becomes an internet phenomenon. It's nothing that she was ever trained for.

how to date your friendly neighbourhood super secret agent. (ao3) - dustbear M, 21k

Summary: Agents Maria Hill and Phil Coulson accidentally meet the woman and man of their dreams(respectively), and have to work hard to keep their super secret agent spy jobs a secret in the pursuit of something resembling a normal dating life.

Coincidentally, so do Natasha and Clint.

If There Was a Me for You (ao3) - false_alexis T, 16k

Summary: When Maria is sent to intercept the Black Widow, there are certain things she wasn't expecting- certain very inconvenient things. Now they're stuck trying to distinguish the desirable from the inevitable.

Soulbond AU

i'm staying at my parents’ house and the road not taken looks real good now (ao3) - hhhillhouse N/R, 22k

Summary: Natasha takes The Avengers to her family's farm to recover after their first run-in with the Scarlet Witch and promptly flirts with Maria Hill in front of everyone, whether she admits it or not. (Black Widow comes before Age of Ultron in this storyline)

just when you escape you have yourself to fear (ao3) - capanon E, 18k

Summary: "Natasha was intimately familiar with being the center of this particular circus back on day one. She knew from experience that, like herself, Maria Hill was not a woman to crack under pressure." In which Natasha has commitment issues, fights aliens, and still gets the girl.

Kairos (ao3) - Pumpkinnubbin T, 137k

Summary: When Fury sends Natasha to Hill's place for help, this isn’t what she's expected to find.

Cue a mysterious child, one overprotective mother, and Natasha's unwillingness to be roped into things.

Maria's Rule (ao3) - MTL17 E, 65k

Summary: Natasha convinces Maria to break her own rule on workplace fraternisation. Repeatedly.

My Number One with a Bullet (ao3) - wintersoldier1989 E, 7k

Summary: Even though they’ve had a co-workers with benefits arrangement going on for a while now, Maria is struggling to keep the lines from blurring, especially where Natasha is concerned.

one more game, please (ao3) - powercrow M, 2k

Summary: Maria and Natasha are undercover. So are their feelings.

stuck on me like a tattoo (ao3) - letter2thepast T, 967

Summary: Maria Hill and Natasha Romanov are both tattoo fiends. Just in different ways.

The Taste of Her Cherry Chapstick (ao3) - cartersleia T, 1k

Summary: Natasha stares, breathless, as Agent Hill applied chapstick to her lips, blood still dripping down her nose.

They were both deadly assassins. They were both badass Agents of SHIELD, and both were in the quinjet returning from a mission that almost cost them their lives, hence both her and Maria's bloody noses and Nat's split lip.

So...why was Maria so attractive to her right now? When she's applying chapstick of all things?

Her lips just look so...supple, and soft, but Nat knows she'd also kiss rough. She'd kiss demanding, in charge, shoving Natasha against a wall as her lips smacked against Maria's.

That's the ideal life, she thinks.

Unchained (ao3) - dongyrn M, 175k

Summary: A girl with powers she is just beginning to comprehend is thrust unprepared into the world. Can she find the help she needs? Features primarily the Avengers timeline and characters with other MCU tie-ins, including Daredevil, Alias, and X-Men (yes, mutants, I went there) among others. Light OC Femslash, a BlackHill subplot, and some comic-based cameos.

What if Natasha Didn't Go to Vormir? (ao3) - phg M, 163k

Summary: What would happen if Natasha couldn't go to Vormir because they only had enough Pym Particles for 10 people and 11 had survived the snap to go back? (Read the tags carefully!)

A story about sisterhood (and love) that follows Natasha, Maria, Yelena, and eventually Kate in the time period from Endgame to post-Hawkeye.

You Mean Everything (ao3) - startrekkingaroundasgard T, 5k

Summary: Natasha asks Maria to be her date to the Christmas party but then doesn’t show when the night comes. Maria leaves broken hearted only to find Natasha waiting at her doorstep.

[itsnotzka]

Hello! Huh, what's this? A silly, cheesy little thing, I'd say ;)

TW: (very mild) alcohol, talking about stalking in a not very serious manner Genre: ...fluff? Silly fluff? Confused fluff? Word count: 5,3k Characters: Jake x Phil You can also read it on Ao3.

Not your stalker

With a quiet, contented sigh and a smile on his face, Phil finally let the last customer out and closed the door of Aurora behind them. He turned around and took a few steps towards the center of the pub, taking it all in. The wooden floors creaked softly under his feet. The air was thick with the comforting scent of dust, cigarette smoke, and the faint aroma of old furniture.

He knew it wasn’t the most pleasant smell for most, but for him, it was everything. To Phil, it was more than just a smell; it was a reminder of all he had, and almost lost just a couple of months back. 

Every time he started cleaning up Aurora for the night, he thought about the day he was accused of a crime he didn’t commit and thrown into jail for a few weeks, with basically no explanation. The memories still lingered in his mind, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

For quite some time, nobody really cared about him. They had other things on their minds, such as their missing friends being found. He knew he wasn't a perfect person. People tended to either love him or hate him. However, at that time, those he thought were his friends simply didn't care, while those who couldn't stand him laughed behind his back. There was somehow no in-between.

The bartender couldn't help but smile, still lost in thought. He was released from custody only because someone had paid his bail. Then, mysteriously, his lawyer found evidence of his innocence. Normally, there would be nothing unusual about this—lawyers have their own methods for uncovering the truth and exploiting legal loopholes—but the sudden clarity of this particular situation was nothing short of a miracle. At least it felt that way. Despite the happy outcome, his lawyer seemed eager to sever all ties with Phil as soon as possible. In fact, he refused to even accept any money from him, leaving Phil with a sense of both gratitude and absolute confusion.

He hadn’t told his sisters about it. At first, he suspected they might have been involved, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He knew Jessy and Angela all too well; they were always quick to point out his flaws and mistakes, even the smallest ones. Surely, they wouldn't have helped him without a big, wonderful lecture about his life. So he just told them the case was solved, period.

He stopped caring about it and moved on. At least, that's what he was telling himself. He shook his head in frustration, trying not to overanalyze everything once again.

He walked over to the bar, slowly making his way through the tables, turning off the lights, picking up empty beer mugs, and wiping down the surfaces. Unable to shake his thoughts away, he changed the music to something less modern to keep his mind off things, but it didn't help either. Then he was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of the bell hanging above the door.

“I’m sorry, I already closed the pub,” he said, turning towards the sound. “Come back tomorrow, eh?”

Only then did he look at the person standing in the doorway and frown. He didn't recognize them. He knew basically every face, every name in Duskwood, after all. He knew at least something about everyone. Those were the advantages of running the only pub in town! Rumors came to him, and tourists, if they appeared at all, came early and didn't stay long.

And yet… there was a stranger in front of him.

The man didn’t answer. He just raised his brow slowly, glanced at Phil, and then looked around the pub.

“Look… I'm tired, I've already cleared the tables. I can give you a beer to go, but that's it,” the bartender said again, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance.

“I don’t drink,” the stranger replied, his voice resonant and clear, his eyes meeting the bartender's.

Phil paused, the corners of his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to read the stranger's face, but it was particularly hard. “So, can I help you with anything else?” he asked with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't sure, but the stranger seemed to give him a small smile. Then the man closed the door behind him and briskly walked down the two steps that led inside the pub.

“I just thought I could finally visit this place,” the man replied casually.

The bartender sighed deeply, trying to keep his composure. "Listen, man… I already told you, Aurora is closed for the night," Phil said firmly, walking over to the door and opening it wide. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you stay here. Now be so kind and get out, or I'll call the police.”

"Oh? The same police that were stupid enough to arrest you?" the stranger’s mocked.

The pub was quite dark, with most of the lamps already turned off by Phil. But at that moment, the light of a street lamp shone in through the open pub door, casting a warm glow on the stranger's face, finally illuminating his features.

As the bartender glanced at his unexpected guest, he noticed the fairly young man was likely around his age, if not a few years older. His all-black outfit, complete with a backpack clearly designed for carrying a laptop, gave him a serious and tidy vibe. Although his nearly black hair seemed neatly combed, it curled in every direction, as if mocking his efforts to keep it in check. Phil couldn't help but notice the man's tired, dark eyes. Yet there was something about his gaze, a level of… maturity that Phil had not expected to see.

“Get out,” the bar owner repeated, but without much conviction.

The stranger laughed softly but ignored his words, calmly and surely walking over to the bar. Laying his heavy backpack on one of the barstools, he sat on another, resting his hands on the counter.

“Could I get some coffee?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at the somewhat confused bartender.

Phil was not a person to be easily upset. True, sometimes he could say too much or react too harshly, but only with words. He was good with words and with people. But for some reason, the stranger didn't seem to care about that… and it was annoying.

“What do you want from me? Didn't you hear what I said?” Phil snapped, his frustration boiling over. He slammed the door shut, the sound reverberating through the room. Turning to the man, he stomped over, his footsteps echoing in the silence. Grabbing the stranger's arm, he spun him around on the stool with such force that he almost fell off his seat.

Phil was surprised when the stranger didn’t react with fear or surprise, but instead looked at him with an understanding gaze, as if he knew something that Phil didn't. The bartender's anger slowly dissipated as he studied the man's reaction, taking a small step back.

"Now, to answer your questions…”  the man sighed, shifting on the barstool once more. “First, I'd appreciate some coffee or something else with caffeine. For your other concern… of course, I've heard what you said, but I don't necessarily want to leave. The truth is, I feel like I owe you this meeting… or at least an explanation."

Phil scoffed. "Oh, you think so?"

"Correct," the stranger exhaled. "I should have done it sooner, but somehow, well... To be completely honest with you, Hawkins, I think you were getting on my nerves a bit too much," he added with a lopsided smile.

"So, you know who I am?" Phil's anger was replaced by curiosity in less than a few seconds.

The bartender then quickly bit his bottom lip, refraining from asking the stranger more. He was well aware of one of his greatest flaws and, even though he didn't like to admit it to himself too often, he secretly enjoyed being the center of attention. No matter what.

"So... no coffee then? Well, that's a shame," the stranger rested his hands on the counter once more and pointed to a soda drink on the right side behind the bar. "So let’s put it this way. The truth is, I happen to know quite a bit about you accidentally, even though you probably don't know who I am. Before you jump to any conclusions - no, I am not your stalker; no, I am not trying to extort money from you; and no, I am definitely not involved in any scheme or conspiracy that would require your involvement."

"You know about me... accidentally ?" Phil repeated doubtfully, walking behind the bar and facing the stranger. "What kind of bullshit is that?"

"Oh, well..." he chuckled again, "I wouldn't say it’s bullshit. Not entirely, at least. You see, we both became involved in the same case a while back, and I was actually forced to learn more about you. You understand that I did not do this for my own enjoyment, although I must admit..." he hesitated, then cringed, "You are not very cautious with what you post online; that was so easy... So yes. It was, at least to some extent, accidental."

"The same case...? Wait, wait, hold on..." Phil resisted the urge to grab his own head in surprise. "Are you... that guy? That hacker or whatever. That tech-savvy guy that disappeared after Hannah was found? No way it’s you… Police say he's dead. That he died during the mine fire."

“I have two pieces of information for you,” the stranger leaned forward conspiratorially and spread his hands. “The first one... I’ve heard you were a good bartender. I somehow can’t picture that, you know?”

Phil looked completely confused as the man rolled his eyes slightly and nodded meaningfully at the soda bottle once more. Gritting his teeth, Phil blindly reached into the fridge, pulled out a bottle, slammed it against the counter, opened it with the agility of a truly experienced bartender, and pushed it towards the man, ending with a jazz hands gesture.

Annoyed jazz hands gesture.

The man only chuckled and nodded in approval, taking a sip of his long-awaited drink.

"And the second thing?" the bartender urged.

“The second thing!” the stranger chuckled. “The second thing is… I don't think you trust the police after all the trouble they caused you, so do you think you should trust them if they say that guy is dead? You’re talking about that Ironsplinter mine fire, correct?”

“Yeah… there was no way he survived that.”

“Oh?” the man chuckled, “I think his chances were quite good, actually.”

Phil frowned, “How so?”

"Well..." the stranger spread his hands again. "I'm not an expert, but I know a thing or two about mines. Actually, I know a lot about many things, but it doesn't matter now... I won't bore you with the details because you probably don't care, but believe me, there are many safety features in mines like that one that can help you survive fire, explosion, shockwaves... It's just a matter of knowing your surroundings well. The amount of air can be a problem during a fire like that, but it can also be remedied. So… maybe he didn't die after all. But what do I know?”

“That's… interesting,” Phil concluded, and the stranger snorted.

The bartender fell silent, analyzing every single word the stranger had said. It was already clear to Phil that he would not tell him anything directly, especially not about himself. The man didn't confirm anything explicitly, but he didn't have to. Phil already knew the answer to his question.

“Alright, I get it… So should I call you Jake, then? That was the name of that techie guy, if I remember correctly.”

“Was it, really?” the stranger smirked. “In that case, you can call me whatever you want, Hawkins. Jake is a name as good as any.”

“Really? Okay then, Techie,” Phil placed his palms on the counter. “You’ve said you owed me… why exactly? Why are you here?” he reiterated, still confused by the stranger’s presence.

Jake paused for a moment, his piercing gaze fixed on the bar owner. Phil was not one to be easily intimidated, but there was something about Jake that made him uneasy yet intrigued at the same time. Was it his unwavering confidence, his carefree attitude, or maybe something else entirely?

“I understand that my visit may seem unnecessary, but I felt compelled to come,” Jake responded, his tone measured and deliberate. “You see, there’s something about you that… let’s say, that doesn’t add up to me.”

“Oh…” the bartender nodded, feeling annoyed and somehow disappointed again. “So you want to accuse me of more things, then? Tell me I should rot in jail, like some other wonderful people?”

“No... nothing like that,” the man chuckled nervously, his dark hair falling onto his forehead. He brushed the locks away with a casual flick of his hand, trying to hide the fact that he was clearly troubled. As he paused to collect his thoughts, his eyes darted around the room. Finally, he spoke again, his voice hesitant and uncertain.

“I know someone anonymously paid your bail, and I may know more about that. I may know a lot about that. And I believe it still bothers you, so I think I should share it with you. And, well… I suppose what I'm trying to say is that this meeting has been weighing heavily on my mind. I've been thinking about it quite often, trying to figure out what to say or… how to say it, and I think I still don’t know… I mean… okay, here's the thing. Do you remember the second person who got involved in this case by accident?” Jake continued, “You… you invited her to Aurora. She never came here, but still, you did, and—”

“The girl? Shit… okay, now I think I get it,” the bartender sighed deeply and nodded, as he couldn’t believe it was that simple. It was always that simple when there were feelings involved. “Don’t tell me… It hit your ego, didn't it? You liked her, right? Did you come to tell me I was not only released from the arrest thanks to you, but they actually arrested me because of you in the first place? You got jealous of that girl, and that's why I had a shitty couple of months? Was it your revenge?”

The stranger shrugged, but his awkward smile said it all.

Guilty as charged.

“Great... so you almost ruined my life over some chick I don't even know?! Only because I invited her here? I did nothing wrong! Couldn't you explain it between you two? You had to get me into this… And you still have the nerve to come to my bar and—”

“No, wait,” the alleged hacker silenced him with a gesture. “I mean… you almost got it right. I do feel guilty you were in that arrest for quite some time, but for a different reason…” the stranger rubbed his neck nervously. “What if… hypothetically, of course, what if I knew right away how to get you out of this? I knew you were innocent and I had proof for that? But... she was so interested in you... and you in her! And I didn't want you to be interested in her… I guess I was just… confused about you. Shit, it doesn't make sense, does it?”

Phil frowned, but slowly the meaning of the stranger's words began to dawn on him. He wasn't after the girl who helped solve the case. Techie was after… him.

He was jealous of… him?

Was that even possible?

He knew he should be angry. Furious even! It was about his life! Countless hours wasted in the arrest he didn’t deserve! Yet, somehow… The guilty look on the stranger’s face made it fade away. He'd be lying if he said he didn't wonder who that mysterious hacker was from back then, or why exactly he was involved in the case. He knew back then that the answers to these questions were just beyond his reach, but now, miraculously, he was sitting in front of him, almost vulnerable and almost exposed. His fascination overcame his anger. The stranger's eyes were full of remorse, and for a moment, he felt a twinge of sympathy.

Sympathy and something else, but he wasn’t sure what it was…

Curiosity!

It had to be just curiosity.

“My, my… So I think you are my stalker, after all…” The bartender hummed, taking two steps away from Jake, but somehow couldn't help but smile.

“No. No, no. Nuh-uh! This statement is definitely not true!” The alleged hacker protested immediately, pointing his finger at Phil as he blushed a bit, his heart pounding in his chest. "I know things about you, and I learned them without your consent, that is correct. Good luck to you with suing me. But I— it’s not my fault. And I didn’t— I wasn’t really— I just wanted to understand you better!" He paused and took a deep breath. "Didn't I help you after all?! You got out, didn’t you? And I am not a stalker! Jesus, I think I need a real drink… " he trailed off.

The bartender was taken aback by the unexpected outburst and blinked a couple of times in confusion. However, he soon burst out laughing, unable to hold it any longer. "Wow, you really lost your cool there, man… You’ve just admitted to some weird things…" he said between chuckles, "I didn’t think it was possible! In fact, you sound exactly like a stalker trying to explain himself, you know." The bartender knew his mocking tone only made the situation more awkward and uncomfortable for the stranger.

“Yeah.. Coming here was a mistake, I guess…” Jake scoffed, grabbed his backpack, and was about to jump off the stool and leave the pub, but Phil, without thinking too much, grabbed his forearm. The stranger winced in surprise, but as his dark eyes met the calm eyes of the bartender, he slowly sat back down.

“Alright, okay. You’re not my stalker, yeah?” Phil smiled,letting go of his arm, “But I think you still owe me more explanation. Fair?”

“F-fair,” the stranger muttered.

To Phil's surprise, Jake leaned forward from his stool and across the counter, invading the bartender's personal space as if it was absolutely nothing unusual. The stranger's arm accidentally grazed Phil's shoulder as he gently pushed him away and reached for a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from behind the bar. Before Phil could even register what was going on, the stranger was already sitting back on his stool, pouring the liquor generously into the glasses.

“I… thought you said you don’t drink,” Phil observed, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. And I thought you were a self-absorbed, narcissistic, brainless drama queen, and yet here we are, engaging in a somewhat intelligent conversation. How about that?”

Phil chuckled, a bit taken aback, as he watched Jake down his drink in one swift motion, followed by a wince and quiet grunt. With a solid tap, the stranger placed the glass back on the counter, exhaling audibly.

“That’s some terrible whiskey, Hawkins,” he admitted, reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.

“It’s my finest one, Techie,” Phil smirked, “And the most expensive one, too.”

“Still quite terrible, for my sophisticated taste… And don't call me Techie.”

“Then don't call me by my father's stupid name.”

Jake blinked a couple of times, as if realizing something. “Right. I forgot he was an asshole, too. Bigger than you.”

“You forgot— oh, Jesus…” the bartender whined, “Don't tell me you even know about my father? I didn’t post anything about that online… How the fuck? How much do you exactly know about me, Stalker?”

“Again with the stalker…” the hacker poked Phil’s chest with his finger, “Listen, the thing about your father is quite well-known around town, isn't it? It's not that weird that even I know about it… and I didn't have to dig too deep to—”

“Damn it, Stalker.” Phil shook his head in disbelief, “You're a walking red flag. I should have thrown you out as soon as you came here. Why am I even still talking to you?”

“Oh, come on, I've never— I am not that bad.”

“Any other sane person would have handed you over to the police a long time ago, Stalker. You do realize that, don’t you?” Phil finally took the glass into his hand and sipped his whiskey.

“But you won’t do that,” the stranger smiled as he clinked his glass with Phil’s, “You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you?”

“That's very possible. So what do you think about me, then? Besides that I’m a brainless douche, that is…”

The bartender's question lingered in the air for a few seconds before Jake spoke up. His voice was clear and confident, matching the intensity of his gaze, "I have a couple of thoughts, actually," he said, pausing for dramatic effect, taking a sip of his whiskey as well, "Ready? First and foremost, I think that you have an overinflated sense of self-importance," Jake's tone was stern but not unfriendly, "Secondly, you have a habit of getting under my skin. I can't explain it, but something about the way you carry yourself and the things you say just... irks me, but that much you already know. It's like you're actually trying to push my buttons or something!" He shook his head in frustration. "And finally, I think you may be a ginormous asshole, but you're also… intriguing in a way that I don't—don't quite understand." Jake paused once more, letting his words sink in. Then he, once again, angrily poked Phil’s chest with his finger, "And I don't like it. Not. One. Bit.”

“Oh? And you’re very weird, Stalker. You know that, right?” A little pissed off by the stranger's behavior, Phil grabbed Jake's hand and moved it away from his chest, but didn't let it go afterward. Suddenly, he felt a strange warmth spreading throughout his whole body, an electrifying feeling caused by the touch of the hacker's skin on his own. The stranger looked straight at him, his big, dark eyes almost like they were trying to read his soul. The expression on his face reminded Phil of a deer in the headlights and it definitely didn't help him with getting rid of the hacker.

As Phil slowly released his hand, the silence between them engulfed them both. Jake’s Breathing became heavier, and his cheeks, once pale, now glowed with a blush.

The bartender rested his elbows on the counter right next to him. Close enough to feel the slight touch of fabric of Jake's hoodie on his skin. The stranger's earlier confidence seemed to have disappeared, and the bartender couldn't tell whether it was the alcohol or Jake's confessions that had caused this change.

After a brief moment of silence, the stranger spoke up, "I'm sorry," he said, leaning forward slightly.

The bartender furrowed his brows. "What exactly are you sorry for? Because I could name a few things now..."

The hacker smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, "I didn't mean to be annoying, "he admitted, his hand idly drifting towards the bottle of whiskey on the counter. He rested his hand on it but refrained from lifting it. “I'm not exactly a people person, you see. I just… I wanted to get you out of my head. It didn’t quite work out as I expected…”

Feeling the weight of the moment, Phil gently placed his hand on the whiskey bottle, his fingers brushing against Jake's. The hacker hesitated, his gaze locked onto Phil's intense stare.

In a soft, almost whispered voice, Phil spoke, "Easy there. You're not much of a drinker, and if there's something you want from me, I want you to be clear-headed enough to ask for it. You're already a puzzle without the alcohol. Stick to your soda, Stalker."

Jake's eyes shifted from Phil's to the bottle, as if contemplating its significance. 

After a moment of reflection, Phil continued, his voice measured, "Alright, let's lay it out. You're quiet, so let me see if I understand correctly..." He released his grip on the bottle, meeting Jake's gaze with a steady intensity. "You're suggesting that I'm getting under your skin, but I'd argue otherwise. I have a feeling you actually like me, and you're just not sure how to handle it. That’s your dilemma, Techie.”

"Wow, okay. If what you're saying would even be true," Jake said dismissively, "Would that even be a problem? Like, you know… my problem?”

Phil leaned in closer to Jake once more, a small smile forming on his lips. His fingers traced the hem of the stranger's sleeve playfully as he leaned forward more, "Well, we could always make it my problem, too," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, “Because, believe it or not, you somehow… fascinate me, too.”

“Oh?”

"Don't get me wrong... You obviously have issues, and I have a feeling your mere presence means trouble. But, the thing is, I don't mind trouble. Life’s boring without it, right? And maybe I should keep an eye on you… to stop you from stalking me further. So… which is it? Do you like me or hate me?"

Jake’s dark hair fell across his face, but Phil could still see the glint in his eyes, "I still can’t decide… Can I say it's both?"

Phil’s smirk grew wider, “It never happens, you know. People either love me or hate me. But you…” he shook his head, “You’re different.”

“Is that a compliment? Are you telling me I’m special? It could be good and bad, you know…” Jake chuckled as he playfully pushed him away, his hand lingering on his chest a little too long.

Then Phil realized he was somehow already long gone... The stranger had managed to wrap the bartender around his finger without him even noticing. The mischievous twinkle in Jake's dark, deep eyes was impossible to resist, drawing Phil towards him like two black holes. Phil found himself powerless to resist the pull, feeling as though he had absolutely nowhere to run.

“What?” Jake asked, noticing Phil was staring at him without saying a word, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I have an idea how to help you with your dilemma. Can I… check something?” Phil tilted his “Um, what exact—” Jake wanted to ask, but he didn’t get to finish his question.

Phil was tired of guessing. He sighed, taking the stranger’s face into his hands, his fingers gently entwining with the strands of Jake's dark, tousled hair. As he leaned in, his heart raced, and he could feel the warmth of the hacker's breath on his lips. Yet, to his surprise, Jake tensed up, his eyes widening in a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. Phil's fingers tightened slightly on Jake's hair, reassuring and firm.

Their kiss was soft, almost tentative, their lips barely grazing each other's. Yet, Phil's tongue slowly found its way into Jake's mouth, and the man welcomed it with a quiet sigh.

That was it. That was what Phil wanted to achieve. 

Phil couldn't suppress a chuckle as the taste of whiskey lingered on Stranger's lips, a soft, breathless sound passing between them. He felt Jake's hesitant smile against his own,a silent acknowledgment that he finally realized what it was all about.

The bartender was suddenly glad that there was a bar counter between them, otherwise he would have pulled the stranger much closer.

“Shit… you really did that,” Jake mumbled as they broke the kiss, but they stayed close, “And you know what’s worse? Fuck, Hawkins, I think I liked that…”

Phil's lips curved into a smirk, his voice low and hoarse as he looked deep into the Stranger’s eyes that no longer felt strange to him, “Liked it, eh? Well, well, well... Seems like we've stumbled upon something interesting here.”

Jake exhaled, his reddened lips still curled into a smile, “Don’t get any ideas, Hawkins…”

The stranger leaned back a bit as Phil’s hands let go of his hair. Then he playfully tugged at Phil's t-shirt, the fabric stretching slightly as he did so.

Suddenly, the watch on the stranger's hand emitted a high, short beep, interrupting the moment. Jake’s expression changed immediately as he glanced at the device. He sighed heavily in frustration, and without any explanation, moved away from the bartender, hopped off the stool, and grabbed his backpack.

Phil was left quite confused. He quickly jumped out from behind the bar and grabbed the stranger's arm, wanting at least some sort of explanation, “Hey, whoa… What is it?”

"I have to go. I'm sorry,” the stranger said quickly, his tone tinged with regret.

"Wha— Why?" Phil asked, his grip on the stranger's arm tightening, “Is it because we–”

"No," he replied with a slight smile. "I don’t really want to go. But it doesn’t matter. You wouldn't believe me anyway."

Phil's brows furrowed in confusion. "So.. you're just leaving me like that? After we–" he scoffed. "Will I… will I even see you again?"

The stranger paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. Then, he smiled slowly, his fingers lightly tugging at the hem of Phil's shirt once more. "Even if I wanted to come back here, which I do not confirm at all," he said, his voice teasing, "I would… probably come here tomorrow, same time. Purely hypothetically, of course. We could… get to know each other better. Properly. Without any hint of stalking."

Phil's heart skipped a beat at the prospect. He needed to see him again.

"Is that so, Stalker?" Phil said, grinning, “You mean I could get to know you better. You already know all about me, right?”

The hacker snorted, “Oh, come on, I thought we’re past it…”

“But I don’t want you to go,” the bartender admitted, his voice softer.

The stranger smiled in a way that made Phil’s head spin, “Too bad, Drama Queen. I’m already gone.”

“Well then, Techie. I’ll be thinking about our next, hypothetical meeting.”

A snort of amusement escaped Jake's lips, but his eyes betrayed his hesitation as he held Phil's gaze, “See you never. I demand coffee next time. And maybe some better whiskey…”

At that moment, it seemed like the hacker wanted to say or do something, but he only managed to muster a frustrated grunt. He shook his head, allowing his dark curls to tumble with the motion, and reluctantly, after a couple of long, long seconds, he finally let go of Phil's shirt. A sly smile then crept across his face, a spark in his eyes that made Phil's heart skip a beat. Despite his temptation to keep the stranger with him for even just a bit longer, Phil grudgingly let him leave. 

With a final glance, the stranger turned on his heels and strode out of the pub, disappearing into the night.

[fr-likes-chocolate]

Phil looked at the list, one last task.

Tell the baby a story about love

Phil smiled, ah an easy task. “Well, I have a great story for you two.” Tallulah and Chayanne smile and snuggle close, grinning.

“Once upon a time, there was a small crow. This little crow wanted nothing more than to be able to walk around with all the humans and partake in their lives. He would spend all his time watching humans live, laugh, and what he wanted most, love. As time passed, he befriended an interesting woman, to most she was the goddess of death, but to him and the rest of the flock, she was their leader. However, she had always taken a special interest in the little crow, giving him gifts as well as stroking and maintaining his feathers.

One day, the goddess asked the little crow a question, “What is your greatest wish little crow? You have been a dear friend to me and I wish to return the favor.” The little crow looked up at the goddess with a great smile “I wish to be human so I can experience love as they do!” he chirped proudly. The goddess smiled, “What a wonderful request my friend! I will honor it as long as you vow to serve me.” the crow nodded vigorously, “Yes! Yes! Of course!!” he exclaimed happily, fluffing up his feathers with joy. The goddess picked up the crow and smiled, “alright. By tomorrow’s sunrise you will be human.”

The sun rose, waking the little crow from his sleep. As he woke, he realized that the goddess had granted his wish, he was human. The goddess helped him learn to walk and fend for himself. Soon the pair stood outside a human village, “so little crow, are you ready to go find a human to love?” The goddess asked, the little crow thought for a moment, then smiled, “I don’t think I need to. I already have you.” He said as he smiled at the goddess. She smiles back at him, and they both went off to live happily ever after.

The end.”

As Phil finished his story the two children stared at him with wide eyes. Tallulah scribbled on her notepad and gave it to Phil. “‘That was a great story Abuelo! However me and Chayanne can’t help but feel like it was oddly specific.’ Well Tallulah and Chayanne, it is getting rather late. Why don’t we get to bed and talk about it tomarrow?” Phil said. Cheyanne and Tallulah huffed as he tucked them in, “good night you two.” He whispered as he left the room.

Cellbit and Forever walked twoard where Phil was checking the perimeter of his house. As they got closer they started to call out for their friend to come join them, only to be met with silence and a single crow cawing at them. The two Brazilians barely caught Phil’s hardcore locket around the neck of the bird as it flew off.

(Based off my headcannon of Phil being a crow originally and mumza making him human ❤️)