#and i only got a chapter in but it still helped

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. … and she gives me all her trust and i’m abusing it right now.

06, CHAPTER SIX. SOMEBODY ELSE’S GIRL (MINE FIRST).

ju speaks. happy late thanksgiving if you celebrate! this is the quickest i’ve ever finished a chapter and i think it’s because i switched between their views, so it’s also a little long. but let me know your thoughts cauuuuse… it’s all mess from here. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual innuendos, sappy paige.

present day, june 2025.

practice had just ended, a longer one than usual might i add. most of the team had trickled out, grabbed their stuff and hit the showers. i lingered near the bench with maya, who had allegedly been here under some important circumstance, but i just think she wanted to see me. we haven’t hung out much recently.

she’d been talking my ear off about the game tomorrow, but i wasn’t fully listening. my focus? split—like always. out of the corner of my eye, nai walked in, hair tied back, a stack of papers in her hand. she didn’t look over here, probably didn’t even realize i was in the gym. what was she here for?

maya nudged me, temporarily snapping me out of it. “you hear me?” she asked, tilting her head.

“uh, yeah,” i lied, blinking as i turned back to her. “somethin’ about their zone defense, right?”

maya rolled her eyes. “you’re hopeless,” she said, but she was laughing.

i chuckled too, stroking a hand over my chin. my eyes drifted back to nai. she’d settled near the scorer’s table, flipping through the papers like whatever she was working on was life or death. she’s more locked in for the game than i am.

“yo, nai!” i called, my voice echoing through the quiet of the empty gym.

she glanced up, startled, her brows furrowing slightly before she turned her attention toward me. “what?” she asked. her tone was neutral, but not exactly inviting.

“come here for a sec,” i said, leaning back against the bench, spreading my legs out, my arms draped over the sides like i wasn’t hanging on her reaction. maya’s eyes followed over to me, her smirk growing, but she didn’t say a word.

nai hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she exhaled sharply, setting the papers down on the table. she walked over, her sneakers squeaking faintly on the court. she wasn’t in any rush, but the way her eyes stayed locked on me, i knew she was curious.

“what do you need, bueckers?” she asked, stopping just far enough to keep some space between us. her arms crossed over her chest, and i couldn’t help but notice the way her forearms flexed slightly with the movement.

“relax, i ain’t gonna bite,” i teased, tilting my head with a grin. “wanted to ask if you saw the film on the liberty’s screens. got it on my phone—figured you might have some notes since, you know, you’re always prepared.”

her eyes narrowed, but she’s definitely amused, biting back a smile. “you’re only asking me because you didn’t do your homework, huh?”

i shrugged, unbothered. “maybe.”

maya laughed beside me, chiming in, “at least she’s honest.”

nai rolled her eyes but stepped closer, her gaze flicking between me and maya. she held her hand out. “fine. show me the video.”

“thought you’d never ask,” i said, pulling out my phone. my thumb hovered over the screen as i unlocked it, my stomach flipping briefly as the lock screen flashed. thankfully, i’d changed it from the polaroids this morning, though the thought of it, thought of her, still made my chest tighten. in a good way.

i tapped the screen, pulling up the clip, and held it out to her. “here,” i said. “maya and i were just talking about it.” it’s a breakdown of their off-ball movement—mostly betnijah and sabrina setting those high screens.

nai leaned in slightly, her shoulder brushing mine as she took the phone. i parted my lips, forcing my focus onto the video.

“you weren’t talking about this,” she murmured, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she glanced at maya.

maya snickered, leaning forward to watch over nai’s shoulder. “caught us. but it’s relevant.”

i watched them both for a second, my eyes settling over nai longer than i should’ve let it. she was so close, close enough that her shampoo—something clean and floral—filled my nose.

her fingers tapped the screen as she rewound the clip. “see this?” she said, pointing to a sequence where sabrina set a screen to free betnijah for a backdoor cut. “they do this every time the ball swings weak-side. if you’re late, it’s an automatic bucket.”

“makes sense,” maya murmured, nodding along.

the video played on, but it was just noise to me. nai shifted again, and my eyes dropped to the curve of her jaw, the faint flush on her cheeks that was always there, down to the sliver of skin her button-up gave me a show of when she crouched down, her hips—

“paige,” nai said suddenly, snapping me out of my daze. God, i’ve been having a lot of those. it was a stern say of my name, and i blinked, realizing i hadn’t heard a word she’d said.

“huh?” i asked.

she sighed, handing the phone back. “i said, they’re predictable, but you have to be locked in. no gambling—you’ll get caught overplaying on those screens.”

“oh. yeah, for sure,” i replied quickly, slipping my phone back into my pocket. “locked in. got it.” my hands found the hem of my shorts, fidgeting with the fabric just to do something.

maya raised a brow, glancing between us. “you good, paige?”

“always,” i replied, shooting her a grin as i scrunched my face up, like the question was absurd. i caught the knowing (or the i think i know) look she shot nai. i’m terrible at not being obvious.

nai shook her head, muttering something under her breath before heading back to the scorer’s table.

i need to talk to maya.

game day was different. they always started early for me, the arena was quieter than i liked, but now the whole team was here. sneakers squeaked against the polished court, basketballs bounced rhythmically, and the team’s warmup playlist blasted from the speakers. but me? i was posted up at the scorer’s table, laptop open and notes scattered around me, running through every last detail of game day operations.

or trying to, anyway. a slightly sweaty paige in her jersey just a few feet away from me was a very distracting sight.

next to me, maya leaned back in her chair, legs crossed over each other like she didn’t have a care in the world. she’d been going back and forth between scrolling on her phone and making snarky comments about my “game face,” which, according to her, was “way too intense for someone who isn’t even playing.”

“you know it’s not that serious, right?” she teased, snapping me out of my focus as she nudged my half-empty in-n-out cup closer to me.

“it is that serious,” i muttered, grabbing the cup without thinking and taking a sip. the straw gurgled, and i frowned, realizing there was barely a drop of my chocolate milkshake left.

maya grinned. “right. because if the scoreboard malfunctions, the world’s ending.”

i rolled my eyes, setting the cup down and returning to my notes. “not all of us can just show up to work and look pretty, maya.”

“first of all, i do a lot more than look pretty,” she shot back, feigning offense. “i contribute to team morale.”

i snorted, finally glancing her way. “uh-huh. is that what we’re calling it now?”

she kept her smile, leaning back in her chair. “yup. and speaking of morale… i gotta ask you something.”

i paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. maya’s tone had shifted—just slightly—but enough to make me wonder. “what’s up?”

she hesitated for half a second, which was already suspicious. maya didn’t do hesitation. “it’s about paige.”

my throat went dry, and i reached for the cup again, even though i knew it was empty. i needed something to do, anything to buy myself a second to think.

“what about her?”

“i’m just saying,” she starts, sitting up straight now. “you two are tight, right?” she asked, her head tilting as she studied me. “she talks to you a lot.”

tight? not exactly the word i’d use, but i nodded anyway. “yeah, i guess.”

maya leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “she’s just… hard to read sometimes, you know? one minute, she’s all chill, the next, she’s pulling away. i can’t tell if she’s playing hard to get or if she’s just like that.”

shit. of course maya was asking about paige. of course she’d come to me, thinking i had some kind of insight. of course maya was trying to lock her down. she was older, probably didn’t have time for whatever game paige was throwing. she wanted a relationship. i’m sure if she knew what paige and i’s relationship was like, she’d call us childish. i wouldn’t disagree.

i swallowed, nodding slowly as if i was carefully considering her words, but my brain was going a mile a minute. why’s she pulling away from you? probably because she was tangled up in my sheets just last night. i’m pretty sure a good number of her workout clothes are on my floor. the towel she’s been using the past couple of days hanging up in my bathroom. i forced the thought away, along with the guilt that came with it.

“i mean, yeah, she talks to me, but…” my voice trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence without giving myself away. “i think she’s just busy with the season,” i redirect.

maya raised an eyebrow, more to herself. “it seems like she’s got time for everyone else. it’s me she’s dodging.”

everyone else. me? what lies has paige been feeding her?

my stomach churned. i hated this. i hated that she was asking me these questions, hated that i didn’t have an honest answer for her. most of all, i hated that i could feel her suspicion growing with every passing second.

i forced a tight smile, my fingers idly fidgeting with the straw in my cup. “paige isn’t really the relationship type,” i said, hoping that would satisfy her.

maya laughed dryly, shaking her head. “yeah, i’m starting to figure that out. but damn, i like her, nai. she’s just—” she paused, letting out a small sigh. fuck. “she’s different.”

i couldn’t help it—the words slipped out before i could stop them. i wanted to know too. know if she makes her feel the same way. “different how?”

her eyes softened as she smiled a little. i knew she was looking at paige. i follow her eye line, and there she is. stretching while she bites back a laugh at her own joke. “i don’t know. she’s got that… thing. she’s fun, she’s confident, she makes you feel like you’re the only one she’s paying attention to when you’re with her.”

yeah, and that’s exactly the problem, i thought bitterly. because wasn’t just paying attention to maya. she wasn’t just fun and confident with maya.

i nodded again, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything else. “i get it.” and i did. i got it more than she knew.

“do you, though?” maya asked, her tone skeptical as she studied me again. “you’re not acting like someone who gets it.”

i forced a laugh. “i’m just tired,” i lied, standing up and grabbing my laptop. “long morning.”

maya just watched me for a moment, then nodded, leaning back in her chair again. “alright, well, if you hear anything…” she let the sentence hang in the air, her meaning clear.

i just gave her a noncommittal shrug, pretending to focus on packing up my stuff.

paige needs to talk to maya.

it’s our second game against the liberty. the team’s been stressed about it all morning, but i can’t say i feel the same. muffled voices and footsteps echoed in the locker room, but i couldn’t focus on any of it. not the game plan, not the liberty, not even fucking maya for christ’s sake.

the only thing i could focus on was nai, pinned against the row of lockers, her lips pressed feverishly against mine like the game had already started and she was playing to win. my jersey stuck to my skin, damp from warmups, but i didn’t care. my arms flexed as i braced them on either side of her, caging her in, every breath i took mingling with hers in the secluded space near the showers. nobody should be coming back here, catching us. it’s why i chose it.

“you,” i murmured against her lips, one hand sliding down to her hip and gripping it like it was my lifeline. my other hand wrapped gently around her neck, pulling her closer. “you’re drivin’ me crazy, nai. you know that?”

her laugh was breathless, her hands trailing up under the jersey she’d untucked, nails scraping against my stomach and making me shudder. “you started it,” she whispered, her lips brushing over mine, teasing me.

i didn’t answer, couldn’t. i just leaned in and kissed her again, deeper this time, my tongue sliding in her mouth in a way that made me forget we were just minutes away from tip-off. she tasted like the cherry lip balm she always wore, and it was doing something to me, making my heart race faster than the pregame drills ever could.

she pulled back slightly, her breath hot against my cheek. “paige,” she murmured, a warning tone in her voice like we should stop. but her hands stayed right where they were, gripping the waistband of my shorts like she couldn’t let go.

“what?” i asked, furrowing my brows. my lips trailed down her jaw, then lower, brushing against the curve of her neck. “say it.”

“we shouldn’t—” she started, but i cut her off with another kiss, silencing whatever logic she was about to throw my way.

“don’t care,” i said, pulling back just enough to look at her. my thumb brushed against her cheek, over the faint blush forming from the warmth of the room. “i don’t care, nai. you gotta know that by now.”

her eyes searched mine, and for a second, i thought she was about to tell me to stop. but then her lips crashed into mine again, and i grinned cockily.

i couldn’t stop. i didn’t want to. she had this pull on me, always had, and every time we found our way back to each other like this, it only made it harder to let go.

i didn’t want to let go anymore.

i was thinking straight now—for the first time in a minute, actually thinking. she drove me crazy in every way possible, just like i’d said, but it wasn’t just that. it wasn’t just the way she kissed me or the way she looked at me like she’d love me like this in every lifetime. it was her, all of her. the fire, the attitude, the way she cared so much about the smallest things. the way she called me out when i was slacking but never let me fall too far. she wasn’t perfect, but damn, she was perfect for me.

i’d tried moving on, tried ignoring it, tried putting someone else in her place a million times before, but nothing worked. nobody was her. nobody ever could be.

and maybe that made me selfish. maybe it wasn’t fair to her, not when i kept coming back like this, asking for pieces of her without offering anything steady in return. but for once, i didn’t want to pretend.

her breath hitched as i kissed her deeper, tilting my head into it, and i felt my chest tighten. this wasn’t just hooking up. it wasn’t just history or habit or whatever excuse i used to tell myself. “i love you,” i breathed against her lips, my hand tightening around her hip. “i’m serious, nai. i love you. i don’t wanna keep sneakin’ around like this. i wanna be with you—for real.”

her eyes widened. she looked like she might push me away, laugh it off, tell me i was lying. but she didn’t. she just stared at me, her lips parted, her breath shaky.

“paige…” she started, her voice soft, uncertain as she brought her hands up to my shoulders.

i leaned my forehead against hers, my hands moving to cup her face. “nah, don’t ‘paige’ me,” i said, licking my lips, trying to find the right words. “you gotta let me say this. i want you, baby. only you. i’ll figure it out—i’ll make it work. just… let me.”

silence. her hands stayed on me, fingers brushing against the collar of my jersey. i looked into her eyes, and i knew i was laid bare. no bravado, no jokes, no quick quips to deflect. just me, standing there, begging without words. let me. please let me.

the sound of a buzzer echoed through the hallway, signaling it was time to hit the court. i didn’t move, didn’t pull away. not until she gave me an answer. not until i knew.

“you don’t get to do this now.”

“why not?”

“because it’s game day,” she countered, sternly mothering me in the way i loved, and the flash of vulnerability in her eyes nearly knocked the air out of my lungs. she was quiet for a moment too long, like she was wrestling with herself, with me, with us.

finally, she exhaled, her hands smoothing down my sides. “go win it, p. we’ll… talk later.”

the words were a promise and a deflection all at once, and we both knew it. my chest ached, but i nodded, biting back the urge to push for more, to beg for her to meet me where i was.

i stood there for a moment longer, just watching her, memorizing the way she looked at me—like she was caught somewhere between wanting me and pushing me away for the last time.

the sound of footsteps in the hallway broke the moment, and i sighed, dragging a hand over my face. leaning down, i pressed a kiss to her forehead, inhaling the faint scent of her hair like it was enough to carry me through the next two hours.

“later,” i echoed, and i left the locker room without another word.

halftime ends, and the buzzer sounds, pulling me and everyone else back into the game. i’ve been occupied—timing, logistics, making sure everything’s in place for the team. it’s hectic, and i’ve barely had time to focus on the game itself. i catch paige, bouncing on the balls of her feet, all amped up as she waits to get checked in. i stretch my legs out on the bench, trying to shake off the restlessness that’s been following me around all day.

just get through the game. you can think about what this means after.

my thoughts are interrupted when i see maya making her way back from the tunnel. she strolls across the court, looking like she’s had a moment to herself, like she hasn’t been gone for the entire fifteen minutes of halftime. i barely even notice her approach until she’s right next to me, her posture a little different, almost like she’s holding something back.

i look up from my clipboard, following her as she sits down next to me. “hey, how was your half?” i ask.

“good. just needed a minute.”

she’s not making eye contact, and her voice carries this weird undertone, like she’s working through something in her head. i furrow my eyebrows, chuckling. “that’s weirdly ominous.”

she bites her lip. “sorry. i just wanted to apologize for being weird earlier.”

i glance at her, trying to gauge where her head’s at. “uh… it’s cool. you were just concerned.” the way she phrased it—the way she’s acting…

there’s a moment of silence before she speaks. “i just… i thought something was going on with you and paige.” she pauses, looking me dead in the eyes. she’s smiling a bit. “but she assured me there was nothing going on. said she wants to move forward with me.”

i blink, glancing at the court. i can’t look her in the eye. i’m back to busying myself with my clipboard. “she said that?” my voice feels flat, distant, like i’m hearing it through a fog.

this had to have been just now, right? my mind whirls for a second. she told maya that she wants to move forward with her? but then why did she tell me—me—in the locker room that she loved me? was maya just blowing her words out of proportion?

maya fidgets slightly, her fingers tapping against her leg as she looks away, grinning like this is some kind of revelation she’s been waiting for. “yeah,” she replies, eyes flickering back to my occupied ones. “i’m sorry for misreading it. all i needed to do was ask her!”

and then she laughs. she fucking laughs.

i chew on that for a moment. the sound of it feels like a slap to the face. it’s not a real laugh, not one that feels genuine or free. it’s almost… rehearsed, like she’s trying to convince herself—or me—that everything’s fine, that there’s nothing more to this. that paige just straightened it all out.

the frustration bubbles up inside me, but i keep it contained, gripping the edge of my clipboard like it’s the only thing anchoring me to reality. i don’t know what to say to that, or if i even can say anything. all i can think about is what happened in the locker room, how paige looked at me, how she said the words that felt like they meant everything but might have meant nothing at all.

she said she loved me. it was the first time i’d heard it from her in awhile where it felt like she actually meant it. and now maya’s telling me that paige is just moving forward with her? that she’s already decided?

suddenly the loudness of the gym is tuned out, and i can’t focus on anything. i start to open my mouth to excuse myself, but something catches my eye. my gaze trails down, taking in the rest of her appearance—her shirt a little wrinkled, her hair not quite as perfectly styled as usual. it hits me all at once, like a punch to the gut.

i force myself to look back at her face, trying to keep my expression steady. “maya,” i say slowly, voice quiet, “your jeans… are unzipped.”

she freezes, her eyes wide for a split second before she quickly pulls at the zipper, trying to cover it up. but the damage is done.

it was easier to deny before. easier if i hadn’t caught that small detail—the one she didn’t think i’d see.

“i’m gonna head out.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 6- Undeniable

Summary: when your car breaks down, you’re forced to ask Frankie for help. You’re not sure what you hate more- that you have to ask him for help, or that there’s a part of you that maybe can tolerate him

Word count: 6.2k

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname, no use of y/n)

Warnings: Angst, tension (in a good way??!!), yearning (AHHH), teenage Frankie (and current day Frankie, for that matter) are down so bad, Santi and Benny play Dr. Phil

A/N: okay I said there would be smut this chapter, but I am a liar, and I am sorry 🤥 I flip flopped some scenes around and it ended up making more sense for some ✨things✨ to happen next chapter instead 🤷🏼‍♀️ I seriously love these two more and more every chapter, and this may have been my favorite one to write so far!! Thank you SO much for all the kind things you’ve had to say about this story- it really means more to me than you know 🥺💛 (sorry for any errors, I didn't have time to edit this chapter as well as I should have!)

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Frankie, Age 18, Summer of 2007

“Jesus Christ, Morales, you got bricks for feet, or what?”

The Garcia’s newly installed basketball hoop had been a welcome addition to the neighborhood rotation of afterschool hangouts. Santi knows just as well as Frankie and Benny that it’s really nothing but a ploy to keep the boys occupied and out their parent’s hair, but the three have gladly accepted the olive branch Santi’s parents have extended to them, regardless of motive.

Now that the heat of late May has begun to sear off the pavement of Everett Street and the dwindling motivation of senior year is in full force, basketball has quickly taken over as the new after school activity.

Benny and Santi love it because it gives them a chance to get out the competitive angst they’ve had locked away since football season has come to a close.

Frankie loves it because it gives him something to keep him occupied until you come home from soccer practice.

Even then, he still finds himself anxiously counting down the minutes until your car pulls into the driveway, stepping out of the driver’s seat to give him that same goofy wave of approval that frees him from his friends’ constant bickering about where the three point line lays on the cement.

Ever since he told you he was leaving, there’s a part of him that debates forgoing basketball all together, just so he can make it to your house that much quicker when you get home. Now more than ever, he’s hyper aware of every second he has left with you, the internal countdown constantly nagging in the back of his mind before it’s four hundred miles that separate the two of you, not four houses.

Because now, not only does he have 74 days left to figure out how to say goodbye to his best friend, he has 74 days left to figure out how to tell her that he’s head over heels in love with her.

That’s what’s on Frankie’s mind as the pass Santi’s thrown at him rolls right past his shoes and down the driveway.

No shit, he’s got bricks for feet.

“Helloooooo? Earth to Frankie? You gonna get the fuckin’ ball, or what?” Santi shouts, wildly waving his arms, trying to snap his friend out of whatever weird daydream he’s stuck in.

“Oh, y-yeah. Yeah, sorry.” Frankie stammers, half jogging for the bouncing ball, tossing it back to Benny, also barely paying attention enough to keep the rubber from smacking him upside the head.

“Fuck, dude, you tryin’ to kill me, or somethin’? A heads up would be nice next time!” Benny scoffs, trying to downplay the fact he’s nearly just shit his pants from the ball that came out of nowhere and almost took him out.

“S-sorry. My bad.” Frankie grimaces, sheepishly running his hand through his thick, messy curls before rubbing the back of his neck.

Santi and Benny exchange confused glances with each other before turning their attention back to their clearly pre-occupied friend.

“Hey, you good, man?” Santi asks, scrunching his brow at Frankie’s tortured scowl.

“Yeah dude, you’ve been like, super out of it the past couple of days. Everything okay?” Benny adds. He tries to discreetly nudge Santi, givinging him a look that’s meant to ask if there’s something he’s missing. The best Santi can give him back is an ambivalent shrug, just as lost as his friend as to why Frankie’s mentally residing on another planet.

“Yeah. I’m- I’m fine.”

Sure, Santi and Benny aren’t as emotionally mature as their friend, but they also aren’t stupid. It’s obvious there’s something he’s keeping from them, and they’re far too relentless to let it go until they find out.

“Dude… C’mon.” Santi prods, taking a step towards Frankie to poke him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, spill the fuckin’ beans, Frank. What the hell’s goin’ on?” Benny chimes in, following Santi’s lead with another forceful poke.

“It’s nothing! Jesus, will you drop it?”

Santi smirks at how agitated Frankie’s become, spending enough years with his friend to know there’s one thing, and one thing only that’s got him this worked up.

“Is this about Kenz?”

Frankie’s eyes dart rapidly between his friends, the sky and his feet, too afraid to settle in one place as he’s consumed by his own silence, crossing his arms over his chest as he braces himself to defend against the onslaught he’s about to be faced with.

He could lie, say no, keep arguing with Santi and Benny until he’s blue in the face, but he knows it’s no use. Deep down, he has a feeling they already know what he’s going to say. He also has a feeling he’ll never go a day for the rest of his life where they won’t give him ten pounds of shit for it, but Frankie’s desperate. If he doesn’t figure out what to do, there’s a good chance he just may explode.

“You have to swear you won’t say anything about this to anyone.” Frankie sternly sighs, eyeing down his friends with a deathly glare, “Swear you won’t.”

“We swear, man.”

“Yeah, we swear.”

Benny and Santi nod in agreement, too shocked at his agreement to tell them anything rather than asking them to fuck off and leave him alone. They wait in patient silence as Frankie takes a long, shaky deep breath in.

“I um- fuck. Fuck.” He stammers, terrified to hear himself admit what he’s had locked away in his brain for years out loud for the first time, “I’m uh- I think I’m in love with MacKezie. I think I’m in love with her and I don’t know what to do.”

Frankie’s mortified by the silence from his friends in the seconds that follow. He’s even more mortified by their howling laughter that comes after that.

“That’s it? Oh, thank God!” Santi cackles, him and Benny clutching their chests to try and keep themselves standing, “Dude, I thought you were gonna say something fucking crazy. You looked like you were gonna fucking throw up.”

“W-what? Santi, did you not just hear what I fucking said? I literally just told you-”

“That you’re in love with MacKenzie? News flash, Morales, we’ve known you’ve been in love with her since like, the eighth grade. Holy shit, I can’t believe you finally fucking admitted it!”

Frankie’s face grows hotter by the second, his cheeks ablaze with bright reds and pinks, not sure if he’s more embarrassed by what he’s admitted, or the fact that he’s worked himself up for weeks to finally tell his friends something they’ve already known for years and Frankie was too blind to realize it.

“Well, okay- I just- what am I- what am I gonna do?” Frankie stutters, throwing his hands up to the sky, very aware that the admittance of his love for you is only a small part to his greater problem.

“Whatta you mean, what are you gonna do?” Benny questions, he and Santi still giggling over how frantic and flustered Frankie still was.

“It’s not fuckin’ rocket science, Frank.” Santi smirks, giving him a playful nudge, “Just tell her that you love her.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Santi?! I can’t just tell her I love her, that’s- fuck, that’s crazy!” Frankie’s all but shouting at his friend for what feels like the most outrageous idea he’s ever heard, crazily pacing up and down the driveway, as if he’s asking his friends for advice on where to hide the body he’s just killed.

“And that would be crazy because….?” Santi teases, anxiously awaiting whatever ridiculous answer Frankie has to finish off the rest of his sentence.

“Because?!” Frankie asks, storming so fast up and down the driveway, he’s about to make fresh cracks in the concrete, “Because, b-because- fuck, Santi, what if I tell her that I love her and she doesn’t feel the same way? What if I ruin our friendship forever and then I get my fuckin’ heart broken and lose my best friend? Jesus Christ, that’s why.”

“You wanna tell him or should I?” Benny proposes, shrugging at Santi.

In a silent agreement, Santi gives Benny a nod, taking a step towards Frankie to grab him by the shoulders, forcing him to stand still enough to capture his full attention.

“Frankie, lemme ask you this.” Santi pauses, bringing Frankie’s gaze from his feet up to his friend, thinking for once in his life, he may actually be willing to give him some serious advice.

“Yeah?”

“Are you blind, or are you stupid? ‘Cause I think you may be both.”

“What the fuck, dude?!” Frankie scoffs over Santi and Benny’s snickering, outstretching his arms to push Santi off of him.

“Damn, maybe he is.” Benny grimaces overdramatically, playing into Santi’s theatrics.

“Fuck off, Benny!” Frankie frowns, starting to regret asking his friends for help.

“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I really have to spell this out for you.” Santi sighs, squeezing his temples between his thumb and index finger.

“What!?” Frankie presses, nearly fed up with his antics.

“Shit, you’re right Benny, he may be dumber than we thought.” Santi snorts before quickly turning his attention back to Frankie, “Frankie… You do realize MacKenzie’s in love with you too, right?”

Frankie feels his heart stop. He’s partly convinced it’s flatlined indefinitely. The only thing that’s keeping him alive is even the tiniest chance that what Santi has to say is actually true.

That maybe, just maybe, you love him, too.

“Santi, c’mon. Be- be fucking serious. There’s no way.”

Frankie won’t let himself believe anything yet, no matter how badly he wants to. Knowing Santi, he wouldn’t be shocked if he’s trying to pull him in to some sick sort of joke, but the looks on his, and Benny’s faces is all the earth shattering reassurance Frankie needs to know that Santi’s telling the truth.

“He’s being serious, I swear.” Benny chimes in, trying to aid in convincing Frankie.

“Think about it, Frank. The two of you spend every fucking second together. You’re basically already dating without actually dating. And not even just because of the fact you like, pretty much go on dates to the movies or ice cream, or whatever. Didn’t you say she cried for like, an hour when you told her you were leaving?”

“I- I mean, y- yeah, I guess.”

“Or the fact that she’s never dated anyone else and has had you locked in as her prom date since last year.” Benny adds.

“Don't even get me started on the fact you two cuddle every time we watch a movie together, because God forbid you’re not touching each other for an hour and a half.”

“I- I- I- don’t know. I mean, sure, yeah, but just because she does that doesn’t mean she’s in love with me!”

Frankie can feel his insides churn, like someone’s put them in a blender and cranked it on high. He’s not sure what’s more terrifying- that you do all those things but you’re not in love with him, or that you do all of them because you are.

He quickly comes to determine the second is much scarier than the first. Mostly because there’s a part of him that believes maybe you’re just as in love with him as he is with you.

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Frankie’s knees wobble as he sinks to the ground, bottom hitting the pavement with a thud.

“Well shit, don’t do it on the driveway, my mom’s gonna kill me. If you gotta yak, at least do it on the grass.”

Santi and Benny settle in on either side of Frankie, the trio of boys squatting at the edge of the driveway. Frankie buries his head in his hands, scrunching his face so hard into his sweaty palms that maybe, some sort of reasonable idea will pop into his brain if he squeezes hard enough.

“You guys really think she likes me? Like, actually?” Frankie asks, peeking his head up to look back and forth between Santi and Benny.

“Uh, yeah.” The pair agree in unison, each giving their friend a pat on the back, trying to keep their all-knowing laughter at bay to soothe Frankie through his distress.

“Fuck. Holy shit. So- So what do I do? Just- Do I just tell her?”

“I mean, I’m no love guru, but you like, may wanna be a little more subtle than that.” Benny snickers, giving Frankie a little nudge, “I mean, do you wanna tell her?”

“Yeah. Fuck. Fuck, I wanna tell her so bad.” It spills out of Frankie’s mouth without any hesitation. The more he thinks about it, the more sure he is.

“Like, you’re already going with her to prom and stuff. You could do it then?” Santi suggests with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“Damn, alright, Mr. Romance over here with the advice.”

“Shut up, Benny. You got any better advice? At least I’ve fuckin’ had a girlfriend before, you dingus, have you? Didn’t think so.”

Frankie’s completely blocked out their bickering, lost in his own train of thought, where all he can picture is you- Your smile, the little strand of hair that you tuck behind your ear when it falls in your face, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh, the little curl in your lips you get when you smirk at him when he tells a stupid joke.

How badly he wishes his lips could meet yours to feel that smirk pressed against his face.

“Do… Do you- Do you think I should kiss her?”

“Jesus Christ, Frankie, what are we, twelve?” Yeah, man, fuckin’ kiss her.” Santi snorts, Benny joining in with muffled laughter in his throat at the innocence of his question, “God, with how nervous you sounded, I thought you were gonna ask if you should like, have sex with her, or somethin’.”

It’s then his brain truly short circuits, his heart about to fall out of his ass and lump in his throat the size of a softball.

He has enough balls to admit he’s thought plenty of times about kissing you.

But right now, he certainly doesn’t have enough balls to confess to his friends, (or even to himself, for that matter) he’s spent just as much time thinking about doing a lot more than just kissing you.

He’s spent even more time thinking about just how badly he wants to.

One step at a time, Morales.

You, Present

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…”

Turning over your ignition to the sound of empty rattles once wasn’t anything to worry about.

Turning it over twice to the sound of silence you could chalk up to bad luck.

But after six different attempts to start your car to no avail, you were fairly certain your issue wasn’t based solely on user error.

“Fuck…” You huff to yourself, yanking out your keys and slamming the driver’s side door behind you as you storm back into the house, now in a race against the clock to get your car not only started, but driveable enough to get you to work on time.

It’s the stupid things like this you haven’t mentally prepared yourself for when it comes to your father’s impending death- Not having a built in mechanic at your disposal to help solve your car issues when something goes awry. It seems selfish to take from the few precious moments you have left with him to pester your dad about your car troubles, but you know for a fact, your dying father has a better chance of diagnosing your issue from his bed than you do hands deep in the engine.

“Hey, Dad.” You grimace, gently rousing him from his half-awake state in front of the TV, “Dad, can I ask you something, or are you too busy dying?”

Your joke is enough to crack a sleepy smile in the corner of his lips, grunting as he turns his head over to see you hunched over the edge of his bed.

“Depends. Is it worth my time, or should I go back to decaying?” He fights with everything in him to let out the softest laugh, a sputtering cough following as his chest rises and falls, trying his best to not let his final days prevent him from being the helpful dad you’d always known.

“My car won’t start. Do you have any idea of what it could be?”

“You gonna wheel me out to the driveway to have me figure it out?”

You both know it’s ridiculous, what you’re asking him to do. You’re not sure what compelled you to think that he’d be able to help solve your problem, but your yearning for the normalcy that’s been absent in your life for so long seems to outweigh any logic.

“I think we could probably crank the bed high enough for you to look under the hood.” You shrug with a sad type of sarcasm, anxiously fiddling with your fingers to try and brainstorm a solution to your time-sensitive issue.

“You know there’s someone four houses down who is very capable of solving your problem who isn’t dying.”

For as hard as your dad fought for his half huffed laugher, he fights even harder for the smug smirk pinching the corner of his cheeks.

“Dad…” You let out a deep breath, trying to not let your eyes roll to the back of your skull from even pondering the idea of admitting to Frankie Morales that you need his help.

“Mackenzie Grace?” He questions back, pretending to be blissfully unaware of your reason for dramatic pause.

“Dad, you can’t be serious.”

“I am, actually. Dead serious. And right now, I’m at a point in my life where that statement can’t be any closer to the truth.”

Unfortunately, that’s an argument you can’t fight.

You sigh again, chewing at your lip to see if your brain can muster any other plausible solution before you admit defeat, but you know it’s no use. Your dad is kind enough to accept your silence as a white flag, sparing you the embarrassment of admitting he’s right. What he’s not kind enough to do, is to let you off without making sure he gets the last word.

“You can’t stay mad at him forever, honey.”

“I can, actually.”

Right now, your dad better thank his lucky stars he’s dying, because any other circumstance, and you would have already been halfway out the door before you put yourself through this conversation again.

“MacKenzie,” He pauses, the frail and wrinkled ends of his fingertips reaching out just enough to rest on the hand you have wrapped around the bar of his bed guard rails, “if I give you some dying words of wisdom, do you promise to listen, actually listen to what I have to say?”

You know he’s about to tell you something you have no intention of wanting to hear. You want so badly to lie, to say “yes”, just to appease him without really meaning it. But the guilty conscious eating you alive in the pit of your stomach won’t let you get off that easily.

“Yeah, I promise.”

It’s soft enough for only you and him, just quiet enough to keep the world out of your shared secret.

“Holding a grudge won’t make you any happier. It won’t change what happened, either. I’d be willing to bet he’s still holding one against you, too. There’s two sides to every story, MacKenzie Grace, and you can’t keep blaming him like you didn’t have a part in what happened, too. He’s already accepted he’s in the wrong for what he did. God bless the fact you ended up just as stubborn as your old man, but at some point, you have to get off your high horse and do the same.”

It’s unsettling, the feeling that washes over you- it makes every inch of your body twinge and wince in a strange sort of self-inflicted pain you can’t shake, the indescribable discomfort that makes you want to crawl out of your skin and evaporate into thin air. The tormented sensation stirring in your gut makes you want to scream and cry and run away, all at the same time.

Because it’s not the truth of your dad’s words alone that make you feel this way- you’ve come face to face with this truth more times than you’d like to count.

It’s the fact that for the first time, you’ve come face to face with the truth, and there’s a part of you that can accept it.

You stand there for another moment at the edge of his bed, eyes peeled to the ground, trying to find the words you’re too scared to admit. Maybe your silence is a loud enough confession.

“I’ll see you when I get back from work, okay?” You lean down and kiss his head, giving your dad’s hand a final, gentle squeeze before you’re halfway out the door, car keys in hand.

“I thought your car wasn’t working?”

Your dad has never been one for “I told you so’s” . The stifled smile and playful glisten in his tired eyes will do just fine.

“Bye, Dad.”

Your dad’s words echo in your brain as you begin your journey down the driveway, terrified by the tiniest amount of weight it’s lifted off your shoulders.

“Holding a grudge won’t make you any happier. It won’t change what happened, either.”

Maybe he’s got a point. But that’s easy to say when you’re only dealing with the idea of Frankie you’ve built up in your head, not when you’re about to come face to face with him in real time.

There’s a part of you that debates just walking to work. Hell, the hour walk it would take you to get to work would probably be easier than the thirty second walk you’re about to take four houses down.

You’ll be lucky if you don’t gnaw off your entire thumbnail by the time you make it to the Morales’s doorstep, trying to clench your fists as tight as possible with every step you take towards their house to attempt to keep your nerves (and nails) intact.

You’re not sure you’ve ever walked this slow to his house. There was once a time that you couldn’t sprint there fast enough, legs leaping over cracks in the sidewalk to meet Frankie at his front door. Now, it feels like you might as well be crawling with the time you’re trying to waste before you ring his doorbell.

You practically tip toe up the steps to the porch, like it’s some sort of crime to be at his house and you’re terrified of being caught. Your finger hovers over the doorbell, outstretched and ready to press, too frozen in fear to move the extra inch it will take to press the rounded button.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You curse under your breath, furrowing your brow at your inability to face his front door. You ball your free hand up to a fist, slamming your knuckles against your forehead with a sigh so heavy, you’d probably give that wolf from The Three Little Pigs a run for his money, “‘C’mon, MacKenzie, just ring the damn doorbell.”

Your heart stops as the tip of your index finger finally pushes hard enough to force the high pitched chime, forcing yourself to keep your feet planted on the doormat below you instead of booking it half way across town.

“One sec!”

The bellow of his voice from behind the door is enough to jumpstart the stand still of your heartbeat, so much so that in an instant, it’s gone from flatlining to nearly beating out of your chest.

At this point, even if you wanted to run, you’re not sure your body would let you.

As the knob turns and draws back towards the house, Frankie’s broad body fills the doorframe. He looks almost as frozen as you, so stunned by your presence, his tongue darts between his lips as a placeholder for the words he lacks.

“H-hey?” He asks it so cautiously, eyebrows scrunching in confusion while he looks you up and down, too scared to say anything else until he figures out why you’ve shown up at his front door.

“My um- My car won’t- I have to go to work and I can’t get my car to start.”

You don’t dare phrase it as anything other than a statement of fact. You’ll die before the words “Frankie, will you help me?” escape from your lips.

“O-oh. Shit.” He cocks his head, the pinch of his face immediately easing along with the rest of his body, standing up a little straighter as he leans against the doorframe.

“Sorry, i-if you’re busy or whatever, don’t feel like you-”

“No- No, I mean, yeah, no, I don’t- shit-” He stutters, pausing as he shakes his head with a little laugh at the ground, trying to compose himself before he trips over his words again, “Yes, I um- Yeah, I can help.”

“O-okay. Thank- Thanks.” You try to fight the tug you feel in your lips creeping towards the corner of your cheeks that mirrors the grin Frankie’s trying so desperately to hide on his face.

The two of you stand there for a moment, feet wriggling in the tips of your shoes and fingers twiddling in your pockets, using every ounce of strength you have to ignore the heat flushing through your cheeks that makes you want to hate him just a little bit less.

It’s hard to suppress when Frankie’s trying to keep up his facade with the world’s worst poker face as he’s beaming ear to ear.

“Let me just uh- Lemme grab some stuff and I’ll meet you over there?” He asks, tiptoeing around what seems too good to be true.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, sounds good.”

You give each other a little nod before he disappears behind his door. You tilt your head to the sky, eyes closed as the deepest sigh of relief you can take escapes your body. It feels like the first gasp you take when you peak above the surface after holding your breath underwater, remembering what it feels like to finally breathe again.

It takes everything in you to pretend you don’t feel the strange pang in your chest as you watch Frankie walk to your house after you’ve made it back to your driveway, his gray shirt clinging to his biceps as he carries over his bucket of tools and brown curls spilling out from under the worn, Standard Oil hat he’s obviously still refused to throw away.

You lean against the hood of your car, arms crossed over your chest, trying your best to seem ambivalent about the whole ordeal.

If you were nominated for an Oscar in the “Pretending to be aloof in front of Frankie Morales while he fixes your car” category, you most surely wouldn’t be winning.

“Hey, again.” He grins as he sets his tools down, mirroring your stance to cross his arms over his chest.

“Hey, again.” You parrot.

“So, uh… Your car?” Frankie asks, nodding over to the vehicle you’re leaning on.

“Yeah, uh- yeah, I don’t know what’s going on. I tried starting it like, five different times and it doesn’t do anything. I’ve never had this happen to me before and of course it’s when I’m trying to leave for work.” You shrug, trying to play into the fact you at least tried to do something before coming to find him.

“Huh. Alright, well, lemme see what I can do, okay?” He nods again, leaving your fingers to play with your sleeves to keep yourself occupied, instead of staring at him, mesmerized by the way you can still hear the gears turning in his brain as he processes. “Can I uh- is it okay if I have the keys?”

You fumble through your pockets, digging out your keys to place them in the palm of Frankie’s outstretched hand, the linger of your touch on his skin just long enough to make you subtly jerk your arm back in embarrassment.

You step back to let Frankie slide past you, watching him try to squeeze himself into the driver’s seat to start your car, half his body still hanging out the open door.

“Are you- are you not teaching anymore?”

“Wh- huh?” His question catches you off guard, the scowl of confusion painted across your face making him quickly elaborate before drawing his attention back to your car.

“You just uh- sorry, you said you were going to work. It’s 5 P.M. on a Thursday in June, so, ya know, figured you probably weren’t going to school.”

He gives the key one more turn before sliding out of the car, carefully passing your keys back off to you before making his way to open the hood. You cautiously follow behind him, arms still crossed against your chest as he props the front of the car up to reveal the engine.

“Oh. Uh- no, yeah. No, I’m uh- I’m still teaching. Normally I do summer school to make some extra money, but because of my dad and everything and not being home, it just, ya know, I just couldn’t. I still wanted something to do to make money and keep me busy, so um, Katie’s Dad still owns The Parrot’s Nest on 14th, so I asked him if I could just do some part time waitressing and bartending and stuff. It’s nice ‘cause he’s been really flexible with everything going on.”

Your eyes dart to the ground as Frankie shifts his view from the inside of the car back to you. The air fills with a heavy pause, like neither of you are really sure how to react to the fact you’re managing a semi-civil conversation that’s more than just one word responses.

Frankie lets out a quiet huff, trying to hide the soft smile curling in the corner of his scruff covered cheeks before turning back to the car, silently tinkering for a few moments before mustering up the courage to speak again.

“That’s nice of him. Didn’t even know that place was still around.” There’s a little grunt as he leans deeper into the car, reaching around to search for some sort of part he wants to check, “I’m uh- I’m glad you’re still teaching, though. That’s um, that’s good.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Your hands have shifted from folded across your chest to in your pockets, a subconscious move you’ve made as a brick from the wall you’ve built between yourself and Frankie Morales seems to crumble without you realizing.

You let him work for a few more moments before he’s diagnosed your issue, carefully closing the hood and wiping the engine grime on the towel from the tool bucket he’s brought with him.

“So uh- good news is, you just need a new battery. Easy fix. Bad news is, your battery’s dead, and your car’s not gonna start without a new one.” Frankie shrugs, hoping he’s not pushing his luck with the little laugh he gives himself at his joke.

“Fuck. Okay, uh- shit, okay.” You mutter, not necessarily upset with Frankie for delivering the news of his discovery, but angry at the fact you need to buy a new car battery and have no way to get to work. “Um, sorry, give me a second, I’m gonna call Jim and let him know that I can’t make it in today.”

“I- I can drive you.”

You’re sure Frankie’s just as surprised as you when the offer comes out of his mouth, freezing your thumb over your boss’s contact you’re about to dial. Frankie clearly interprets the look on your face as one of skepticism about his idea, quickly trying to backpedal before he preemptively digs his own grave.

“No, I mean, um- if you want. I can- I can drop you off. So you, uh- that way you don’t have to miss work.”

“No, Frankie, it’s fine, you- you already helped figure out what’s wrong with my car, it’s not a big deal, don’t wo-”

“I want to.”

You don’t mean for your sigh to be as audible as it is. It only seems fair, considering there was no world in which you ever considered having to contemplate not only asking Frankie for help, but also spending a fifteen minute car ride together so he can drop you off at work. You chew at your bottom lip as you contemplate the lesser of two evils- be stuck in Frankie’s metal death trap of a car, forced within a 3 foot proximity of him for the entire ride, or miss out on the most hours you’ve been scheduled in the past two weeks for money you really do need.

Swallowing your pride is the toughest pill you’ve had to swallow in quite a long time.

“Fine.”

It’s not even your answer you think shocks him the most. It’s how little he had to argue with you to agree.

You want to roll your eyes at the little smirk of satisfaction he gives himself, knowing you’ve gone 0-2 on your hardened stance of despising Frankie’s guts since talking with your dad. It only stings more that you’re sure Frankie is getting endless amounts of satisfaction that you’ve given into him so quickly.

But fuck, if you didn’t miss that stupid, goofy grin of his when he knows he’s beaten you at your own game.

“Only if your car isn’t gonna kill us first before we get there.” You groan, eyeing down Frankie’s beater truck he’s been driving since he got his license. It was in questionable shape over a decade ago, you’re not sure what kind of deal Frankie made with the devil to keep the hunk of junk up and running.

“She’s fine. Haven’t managed to kill you in her yet, have I?” Frankie rebuttals, grabbing his tools as you follow behind him towards his car.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” You sigh, shaking your head in annoyance that Frankie’s still driving this damn thing on principle alone, “How the fuck is this thing even still running?”

“‘Cause you don’t give her enough credit. Got me here from North Carolina just fine.” Frankie scoffs, the two of you settling into your perspective seats inside his truck.

His comment makes you frown at your lap as you buckle your seatbelt, not because of the sass he’s inflicted, but because it reminds you that he’s moved himself states away just to further the distance between you two.

“S-sorry, it was meant to be a joke.” Frankie mutters, looking over at you as he drives and noticing the way you’ve gone quiet, eyes peeled to the ground.

“No, I know.” You reply back, anxiously digging under your nails with your stare still locked on your feet. “How’s um- how’s North Carolina?”

“Oh. Um, It’s uh- It’s fine, I guess.”

It’s then you notice Frankie’s realized the reason for your silence, uncomfortably fidgeting in his seat and grip tightening around the steering wheel as he processes your disappointment.

It’s hard to decipher what he means by “fine.” Fine, like he’s more than fine and doesn't want to rub it in your face how well he’s doing? Fine, like actually a normal amount of fine and he just has nothing of interest to report? Fine, like he’s not fine at all, but doesn’t have the balls to admit it to you?

With the way he can’t bring himself to look at you, it has to be the first or third option. You’re not sure which one is worse.

You’re also not sure why you feel so compelled to find out.

“You still uh- doing um, mechanic stuff for the Army?” You ask, glancing over just enough to watch Frankie’s fingers drum against the steering wheel.

“Yeah. Helicopter maintenance, mostly.”

It’s still not enough to give you the definitive answer you’re looking for. You’re too stubborn for your own good to just quit while you’re ahead. Because of all the questions you could have asked him, the one you ask him next is like voluntarily putting a gun to your head and asking him to shoot.

“Are you, uh- you um, seeing anyone? Samantha, or whatever her name was?”

It’s the first time he locks eyes with you since you’ve gotten in the car. Frankie looks you up and down, tongue running across the top of his teeth under his lips and raising his brows just enough to let you know you’ve got his attention.

Every second of silence that lingers before his answer only leads you to believe he’s trying to let you down slowly before he has to pull the trigger. You brace yourself for the bullet.

“No. I uh, shit- I- Sarah and I broke up a while ago. After um, after Santi’s wedding, actually. No, I um, I’m not seeing anyone. Haven’t really been since then, I guess.”

Your body stays tense, still bracing yourself for the inevitable blow, but it never comes. Not only has Frankie taken his finger off the trigger, he’s put away the gun all together. You’re so stunned you’ve made it out of the question alive, you aren’t quite sure how to react.

“O-oh. I uh- I didn’t know.”

“Are- are you? S-seeing anyone?” He stutters, the words heavy in his throat as he gulps.

“No. After how things ended with Liam, I just- I haven’t either.”

It’s uncomfortable, the silence that fills the car and seeps between you. Not quite awkward, not quite upset, not quite relieved, either. It’s heavy, like a backpack full of bricks you’ve had strapped to your shoulders that you refuse to put down- you’d rather keep burdening yourself with the weight than just take it off, too used to the ache it spreads to every inch of your body.

Maybe, the silence is so uncomfortable because you’re starting to realize how stupid it is to let these types of things keep weighing you down.

Holding a grudge won’t make you any happier. It won’t change what happened, either.

You’ve been so lost in your own head, you’d barely even realized the car had come to a stop, the soft orange and pink glow of The Parrot’s Nest sign illuminating the inside of Frankie’s truck with muted neon snapping you back to reality.

Your hand wraps around the door handle, ready to break free into the parking lot before Frankie’s voice stops you.

“What time are you done?”

You look back over your shoulder, taken aback.

“Why?”

“So I can pick you up.”

It’s so matter of fact, like he had never contemplated any other option from the moment he’d offer to drive you, his soft, brown eyes sinking as you shake your head at him.

“Frankie, it’s fine. I can have someone else drive me ho-”

“Please?”

Your head wants to say no. It wants to push open the door with a half hearted “thanks for the ride” and pretend like the past 15 minutes had simply never existed, wiping the strange pang in your chest and swirling in your stomach from its memory.

Apparently, your heart’s decided it has other plans.

“I’m done at ten.”

“Then I promise to be back here at ten.”

Frankie Morales is a man who’s broken many things.

Your heart, your trust, your friendship.

But out of all the things Frankie has broken, he’s never broken a promise.

And that’s how you know at ten o’clock sharp, you’ll find his beat up Chevy in the parking lot of The Parrot’s Nest, waiting for you.

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[mermaidgirl30]

✨Saving What Was Lost Part 4: Bubble Baths and Faded Scars✨

Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Cut my entire heart out to write this chapter. I love love how soft Joel is, and I hope this brings a little comfort to all the healing girlies 🩷 There’s a lot of triggers in this chapter, so pay attention to the tags. I hope you enjoy this chapter because I so loved writing it.

Chapter Summary: Who knew that facing one of your fears would be so hard? It’s just a shower, but a shower is so much more to you. And just when you think you can’t face it, Joel helps you one step at a time.

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 6k words

Chapter Tags: Mentions of being trafficked, flashbacks of being abused and SA, angst, soft and protective Joel, PTSD, no use y/n, age gap (reader is late 20’s, Joel is late 40’s), pre-outbreak au, shower triggers, vulnerable reader, panic attack, sweet nicknames (sweetheart, angel)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

One month. You’ve been here one entire whole month and you still haven’t been able to get yourself to step into the shower. It’s only a shower. It can’t hurt you, but they can. The memories that drag knives through your skull, leaving you to bleed out on the cracked tile. 

   It’s only memories, only deep scars from your past, but they still haunt you night and day, swearing to come back and swallow you whole with their jagged, sharp teeth — just like a great white shark. 

   Nevermind that you’ve been washing your hair in the sink or scrubbing your body until your skin glows red with the washcloth. You can’t fucking do it, but you’re going to force yourself to try today. You have to. You have got to break this traumatic cycle. 

   You can do this. It’s a shower. Only a shower. 

   Making your way cautiously to the edge of the tub, you glimpse at the metal shower head, fixate on the way it curves and dips and glares back at you with vengeance in its wake. It’s like a monster’s staring right back at you, sneering its sharp teeth and whispering nightmares into your mind. 

   Come and get me, you want to say, but it’s already sunk its razor-sharp fangs into your skin. It’s already bled you dry.

   Swallowing your fears, you stand your ground and narrow your eyes into thin slits, flexing your fingers into tight fists as you look into the face of fear. 

   It can’t hurt you, can’t wrap its long cord around your neck like they tried. But yet, it still can…

   You still feel their icy breaths blowing down your neck, still feel their filthy hands trailing up your skin, still feel the scars they clawed down your back while they had you pinned against the tiled wall. You still feel them inside you, all around you, branding you as their own forever. 

   You’re still theirs. 

   You hear their cackling laughter ringing through your eardrums as you reach for the shower head, stretching your arm through the visions of Garrett and his buddies having their way with you in the bathroom. 

   “Get out,” you mewl, chattering your teeth as you grab a hold of the bottled lavender soap from the side of the porcelain tub. You can’t let them win.

   “Look at you. All scared and helpless, begging for someone to come save you,” Garrett snickers, fisting the back of your hair as another man tears your dress off. 

   “Stop. Please…” you beg, tears streaming down and clouding your vision. “I’m worth more than this. You don’t have to…”

   “What makes you think you’re so special, princess? Nobody’s looking for you. You’re ours until we sell you. And right now? Right now you’re mine.”

   Tears slip from your lash line, falling like raindrops as they hit the edge of the tub. You remember that night so clearly, remember it like it’s happening all over. 

   Your body starts to shake the further you reach for the shower head, making it your mission to push through. But the voices echo in your mind, vibrating down your spine until you actually see their muted faces and narrowed eyes in the reflection of the metal. 

   Push through. Fight. Forget them. They’re not real anymore. But they are still real, and they’re just repeating the cycle with other innocent women that were taken…

   Just as your fingers latch around the shower head, Garrett’s voice booms through your head, ricocheting off the pristine tiled walls. “You’re mine, little whore. I’m not done with you yet.”

   “Get out of my head. I’m not yours!” you scream, dropping the shower head as it bangs a loud clash against the shower walls, startling you like a gunshot just went off. The soap tumbles out of your palm, the bottle opening and spilling lavender liquid all over the bottom of the tub, making messes you can’t get yourself to clean up. 

   You drop to the floor and cover your head with your hands, begging the yelling voices to just stop. But they don’t. They come parading in like a steep hurricane and crash their waves down on you, knocking you off center so they can snake their way into your mind to scream even louder. 

   “Stop, stop,” you whisper as a fallen teardrop hits the edge of the bathtub. And then they just keep coming like scattered storm clouds.

   You can’t fucking do this. You’re not strong enough. You’re not brave. You’re not brave. 

   Footsteps on the floorboards make your fingers curl deeper into your messy hair. You squeeze your eyes shut as the door hits the back of the wall with a loud bang. And now you’re spiraling.

   Garrett. It’s Garrett coming for you. And this time, he wants blood.

   You have to run. You have to get out, you have to leave. 

   “Hey, sweetheart—”

   “No!” you scream out in blind fear, afraid your life is about to flash before your eyes. You start to swing your arm but when you look up, you drop it right back to your side with wide eyes. 

   “Hey, it’s jus’ me. It’s me,” he reassures gently.

   When you look through your tear-stained eyelashes, the world gets a little more quiet. A green flannel fitted against broad shoulders sits before you, his silver-threaded hair glowing from the fluorescent bathroom lights, and those eyes... Those big, brown, syrupy eyes.

   Joel. 

   “Joel…” you whimper out.

   He leans down right beside you and gets on your level, brown eyes locked directly on your teary ones. “S’right. It’s me.” His hand lands on the edge of the bathtub, thumb grazing against the smooth surface. Close enough to feel the heat off his tanned skin. 

   You’re breathless, tears still streaming down your cheek, but he looks like he wants to reach out and wipe them away with the pad of his thumb. 

   “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern lathered all through his soft brown eyes.

   “I was just… I just…” You can’t finish your sentence without cringing at the shift of his shoulders.

   “Take your time, sweetheart,” he says encouragingly.

   He’s always so patient. 

   Taking a deep breath, you make yourself speak quietly. “I just wanted to get a shower. And I just can’t. I couldn’t do it. I can’t…” Tears muddle your vision, and then you’re right back into the pool you were in.

   “Breathe for me,” he coos softly, making your breathing a little easier. “There ya go,” he encourages. “Jus’ take it slow.”

   He takes a long look at the hanging shower head and the spilled lavender soap that runs down the edge of the tub, ending in a small puddle where your fear lies. It’s like he puts two and two together, like he understands exactly what happened. 

   “I made a mess with the soap, I…”

   He stops you right there. “Shh. S’okay,” he whispers. “Let me jus’ help you here, sweetheart.”

   Slowly reaching over, he turns the faucet to warm and lets fresh water run through the tub. He pours more lavender soap in, creating a pool of bubbles that cover the surface of the water. And then he puts the shower head back where it belongs, at a safe distance where it can’t touch you. And you just sit there, watching in silence as he tests out the temperature of the water next. 

   “You’re running a bath for me…”

   He stops for a moment and looks at you with big, warm eyes, looking at you as if you’re in need of saving. “Yeah, I am.”

   Gulping down a lump in your throat, you watch him get back to his task at hand. Stretching his long arms, he cuts the faucet off when the water hits just against the top of the tub. Enough for you to slip in and not spill any water out. 

   He tilts his head back to you and says, “You think you can get in by yourself?”

   Staring at the steam coming up from the warm water, you tremble inside. He drew you a bath when you didn’t have the strength to stand in a shower. He did that. He did it for you…

   Wiping your blurry eyes, you sniffle out. “I think so.”

   He gives you a small smile and then pushes himself up to his feet, nodding to the bath water as he turns the other way. “Go ahead then. I won’t look.”

   You sit there in shambles, still gawking as his broad back stands firm across the room. He’s not even peeking. He’s not trying to look at you. 

   “Sweetheart, s’alright. You can trust me.”

   You can trust me. There’s that word again. Trust. 

   Gradually, you start to pull your t-shirt over your head, cautiously dragging your leggings to the floor and hiding your purple lace underneath the fabric of your shirt. And then your bra unclasps with a snap, leaving you completely bare as you sit in a heap on the cold floor. 

   Turning your head back around, you see he’s still not looking, so you decide to slip under the warmth of the bath bubbles and sink until your body is covered from the breasts down. You pull your knees up to your chest, blanketing yourself with the large bubbles and your arms. 

   “You okay?” he asks.

   “Mhm,” you whimper out.

   “Is it alright if I turn around?”

   Freezing, your body is suddenly ice cold, despite the warmth surrounding your skin. Panic consumes you for a second, but then you remember it’s Joel. 

   He won’t hurt you.

   Balling yourself up even tighter, you make your decision. “Oh. Yeah, I umm. Okay,” you mumble out.

   The shift of his jeans and his boots tiptoeing across the floor makes your mind race, feelings of fight or flight invading your body as you work to steady your fast breath.

   You’re completely naked, stripped raw and bleeding all your insecurities and fears into the lavender soap that envelops the bath. There’s no layers covering you except the thin coating of bubbles and your curled up knees hiding what’s been taken time after time again from you. 

   You shrink yourself further into the tub, curving your back, praying your hair will cover the faded scars that slit you open night after night. You don’t want anyone to see them, can’t even stand to look at them yourself. They’re ugly reminders of what’s happened to you. Just heavy burdens weighing you down, telling you how invaluable and broken you really are. 

   Garrett used to love that… dragging glass through the top of your right shoulder, or just using his teeth to make blood run down your cracked skin. You still feel it. Every lash and bite and cut he gave you. He ruined you just like every other man that touched you in that house. Except he was the worst of them.

   You’re so fucking vulnerable and exposed, and it’s so raw. And you’re just showing all your bleeding shades of red to Joel. 

   When you hear him shift behind you and slightly feel his large presence near the bathtub, you freeze, and then your body starts to shake violently, like you just got dunked below an icy lake.

   “Hey, s’alright. It’s alright, sweetheart,” he coos as he kneels down against the side of the tub. “You’re tremblin’ like a leaf. Are you cold?”

   “N—no,” you whisper, shaking your head back and forth until you believe what you’re saying. It’s warm inside the bath water, but you’re still shuddering like you just got hit with a bucket of ice cold water.

   It’s quiet for a second before he asks, “Is it me? Do you want me to leave?”

   Briefly flicking your teary eyes up at him, you take a long look at his concerned face, embracing those warm brown eyes that you could get lost in. 

   Do you really want him to leave? If he does, that means you’ll be all alone with the roaring thoughts in your head. And you don’t want to be alone. Not really. You want him to stay because the truth is… he makes you feel not so alone. 

   He feels like fresh air.

   “No. I… I don’t want you to go,” you whisper, keeping your eyes locked right on those deep brown pools.

   He gives you a tight-lipped nod and takes a good look at your face, like he can just slip inside your mind and feel everything you’ve ever felt in those last two years.

   “M’not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart. Gonna stay right here. Right where you need me.” His words pull at your heartstrings, stopping the screaming voices in your mind. 

   He said he’ll stay. 

   You�� need him. 

   Sitting there curled up in shambles, you don’t move. You just wade in the soapy bubbles and look up bashfully beneath your eyelashes, praying he’ll keep the flashbacks at bay. You don’t know when exactly you grabbed a washcloth, but your knuckles are white from how tight you’re holding on. Maybe it’s helping keep you sane right now.

   Don’t let the memories come flooding back. Keep me from sinking, Joel. 

   His thumb traces along the edge of the tub, while his other grabs the open bottle of lavender soap. And then he looks at you, hesitating before he speaks. He almost looks like he doesn’t know what to say, like he’ll scare you off or say the wrong thing. 

   He could never scare you, you think. No. Never. 

   “Can I?” He tilts his head toward your exposed back, his calloused fingers still skimming the surface while your heart beats sporadically from what he’s asking. 

   Swallowing the words that threaten to spit out, you push them back and nod cautiously, allowing him to take the purple washcloth from your shaking palm. He brushes his calloused skin against yours, and you jump at the contact.

   “Hey, s’okay. I’m gonna be real gentle, sweetheart. You just tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop.” His deep timbre stops the panic, and all you can do is hang your head lower and focus on the slow deep breathing technique Joel taught you last week.

   “Okay…” you whisper out in a hushed breath. 

   The first touch of the soapy washcloth feels like knives to your skin, carving you up slowly as your body is served to the slaughterhouse. It almost feels like Garrett behind you, cackling as he had his way with you all those times. And when he slides the washcloth down your spine again, you hear a quiet sob escape your lips. 

   You weren’t supposed to show him this side. One that’s so torn apart and abused and broken. You weren’t supposed to show him your scars…

   “Sweetheart, s’alright,” he coos, blowing his warm breath against the back of your head as he stops his slow strokes for just a moment. “You’re safe. I’m not gonna hurt you…” he repeats again slowly, quietly.

   Swiping a falling tear away with the back of your arm, you let him continue. He’s so gentle with every movement, taking care to watch your reactions, back off if something seems too much. He listens to your body language and respects you because he knows how scary this is for you. You don’t want anyone to touch you, but you think this is okay. Because the truth is, you couldn’t do this without him. 

   Slowly brushing your hair to the side, he washes along the back of your neck, gently going over the curve of your shoulders, down your spine, and stopping where your body is submerged. 

   “Tilt your head back for me, sweetheart,” he asks politely, reaching to grab the bottle of shampoo. You do as he says. 

   He fills a little bucket with water and slowly runs it through your hair, until it’s all drenched in warmth. Next, he laces his thick fingers through your hair, scrubbing your scalp to get all the knots and tangles and sweat out. You fight to hold in a low groan, reveling in how good it feels to have his fingers running through your locks in such a gentle way. 

   And he stays there, talking you through it, telling you it’s all okay. And he’s so gentle. Almost like a little lamb with those brown eyes that could soothe you into a deep lull, calm your flying thoughts until you’re just standing still. 

   No one’s ever done this, taken the time to care. You’ve never had someone to do that. He’s doing what no one else signed up to do. 

   But why… why would he do this? You’re nothing. At least that’s what they told you back at the house. That’s what Angela said while Garrett had you pinned to the dining room chair, breathing all down your ear, his teeth dragging until he left marks.

   You shiver in place, teeth chattering even though you’re in warm bath water. But right now you feel like you’re ten feet under a frozen lake, and you need Joel to pull you out.

   The visions of Garrett come rushing back, clouding your better judgement and making you fold over again in fear. 

   Get out. Get out of my head. 

   But you’re right back at that stagnant old house. You’re back in Garrett’s hands…

   Fuck. Why’d you have to remember that night…

   It’d be so easy to slip under the surface of the bubbles, embrace the black seas that would drag you under into oblivion. You could just sink into the warmth, watch the real world disappear along with all your memories. Melt into a peaceful bliss. You could just end it all, but you don’t want that. You want to live, to face your fears, to go on living. You want to be brave. You want… you want… 

   “Sweetheart? What is it?” he asks lightly as he watches a tear break the surface of the water. 

   “I… I just…” You trail off, staring at the shower head, trembling as you remember everything. 

   His eyes follow yours, and it’s like he sees right through your thin layers of red.

   You’re scared. You’re so fucking terrified. 

   Joel knocks you out of your dark mindset, his Southern drawl taking that fear away. “Hey, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

   “Umm. I…”

   “S’okay if you don’t wanna talk ‘bout it. Jus’ tryin’ to understand what happened so I can help. I want to help. If you’ll let me.”

   You turn his words over and over in your mind, contemplating if you want to let him in. But honestly, talking to Joel does make you feel a little better. And keeping everything bottled up inside is eating you alive, so maybe talking about it will help. Joel will help. He always helps… 

   You take a deep breath and let it all out. “I just… I used to be so independent. I did everything for myself and now? Now I can barely do anything…”

   “Hey. S’alright, sweetheart. You’ll get back to that point one day. You’re gonna be okay.”

   “I don’t feel okay.”

   He stops the slow movements of his wrist, rests the washcloth against the middle of your back. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

   “He hurt me…”

   The room turns silent, not even the splash of water meets the white noise in the bathroom. That is, until you hear his knuckles flex.

   “What?” he asks in a husky breath.

   “He hurt me,” you repeat, your voice dropped an octave lower.

   “Who, sweetheart? Tell me who hurt you.” He’s attentive, all attention on you, his eyes dark chocolate when they lock with yours.

   “Garrett… The one that sold me. He… he…” Your voice quivers into silence, only the quiet sobs escaping your throat.

   “Hey, s’okay. You’re okay,” he coos. “He’s not here and he never will be again. He won’t touch you again. Ever. And I… Well, I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I’ll never hurt you. You’re safe now.”

   You’re safe now. You’re safe with him.

   Your eyes drop back down to the bubbles, shining under the fluorescent lights, your hands skimming under the water against your hidden legs. “Back at the house, we weren’t really allowed to take showers alone. Well, not all the girls. One of them just happened to be me…”

   Pausing to flinch, you start again when he doesn’t interrupt. “No matter how much I fought back or screamed or tried to get away, they just held me down against the tile wall. And Garrett was the worst of them, even if he was the one trying to sell me. He was the one that used me the most. Said I was his favorite plaything,” you spit out, sinking your nails deep into your ankles to relieve some of the heartache.

   “Jesus Christ…” His voice drops an octave, and you feel his fingers flex against the washcloth, ringing it dry as he takes his frustration out on it. 

   “And the shower head,” you continue. “They… they umm, did things to me with it. Horrible, awful things.” You see his lips part, eyes widening in horror out of your peripheral vision. He doesn’t like this anymore than you do. “They should’ve just finished me off when they strangled me with it while they had my face pressed against the wall…” You choke on a sob, like you’re reliving that night over right now. You still feel it. The press of the coiled hose wrapped tightly around your neck, choking you as they had their way with your frayed body. 

   Joel sits back on his heels, looking at you like you’re made of glass. Like he’s afraid one wrong word will send you over the edge. “Sweetheart, I… Fuck. M’so sorry that you went through that. That I didn’t get you out sooner. I swear to God if I ever get my hands on Garrett or any of those men, I’m gonna make ‘em pay. They’ll wish they never laid a finger on you. I’m gonna fuckin—” 

   You stop him from going any further. You don’t need him to be the knight in shining armor right now. You just need someone to listen. “You’ve done enough, Joel. You don’t have to. What’s done is done. I’ll never be anything more than something to use to them, and they’ll never change.”

   Staring off into the waves of water, you try to let the bubbles wash your pain away, but another tear slips free, falling down the side of your cheek.

   “Hey, look at me for a second,” he asks softly. You turn to face him all teary eyed, and he catches the tear from falling. His knuckles brush tenderly against your skin for just a second, and then his warmth is gone the second he pulls away. He doesn’t let it linger, but you almost wish he would. His touch is so feather-like. So soft and gentle and warm.  

   He takes a good look at your somber face and sighs, his fingers knocking against the side of the tub. “You never deserved any of that abuse. And I’m sick to death that it happened to you. But you can’t jus’… You gotta keep goin’, sweetheart. You gotta keep livin’. You have so much to give. You’re so full of life and bright and the bravest girl I’ve ever met, and you—”

   “Brave?”

   “S’right, sweetheart. Jus’ like I said the other day in the parking lot. You’re so very brave. And you’ve got a lifetime ahead of you jus’ waitin’.” He stares at the washcloth for a second, but then he’s looking back up at you. “It’s gonna be hard. God, it’s gonna be so fuckin’ hard for a while, but you’re gonna make it. With a little help, you’re gonna soar.” 

   You feel water burn the backs of your eyes, feel like you’re going to implode right now in this bathtub. But you push the fears away and look back up into the soft brown eyes of a man who cares what happens to you. 

   “It’s not gonna be easy, but you’re gonna get through it. You’re gonna have bad days where you feel like you can’t do anything, but those are the days you gotta jus’ take it one step at a time, like today. And those are the kinda days where it’s okay to ask for help. I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here to help, whatever I can with. I jus’ want you to be okay, sweetheart. That’s all I want. For you to live.”

   Your heart clenches in your chest as you gaze into those soft brown eyes. And you just stare with your arms wrapped around your legs, almost want to reach out and graze your fingers through his sandy brown locks. He does something to you. Makes you feel like you’re worth saving. Makes you feel alive. Makes you feel like a human being. 

   He had every chance to take advantage of you in here. He could’ve done anything, but he chose to protect you and take care of you instead. 

   He took care of you. 

   So you continue to stare into those glossy brown eyes, memorizing every speck of gold in his flecked irises. He kinda reminds you of sunshine, warm rays of yellow and orange peeking over the horizon. 

   He reminds you of safety. He’s safe.  

   You shift in the bubbles that cover you, watch as the water breaks against your knees, and then your eyes are back on him just like you’re mesmerized. “How is it that every single particle of me doesn’t want to trust another man ever again, but I trust you?”

   A smile crosses his lips. “You trust me?”

   “Mhm.”

   He takes a good look at you and smiles wider, making his dimple sink into his left cheek. It tugs a little at your heartstrings. “Well then, thank you for trustin’ me.”

   You nod and peek up through your eyelashes, waiting a few seconds before you confess something. “You make me feel safe…”

   His brown eyes delve deep into yours, and his smile still hasn’t faded. “That’s ’cause you are, sweetheart. You’re safe with me. Always. I would rather kill a thousand men than ever lay a harmful finger on you. You’re too special for that, sweet girl. You deserve good things. You deserve the world.”

   His voice sounds like velvet. Smooth, delicate, soft. And even though you’re laid out like bare bones and crumbled dust, he seems to cover all your vulnerabilities and put all your broken pieces back together like glue.

   Somehow, he can knock the breath out of you but also give you an overabundance of oxygen at the same time. He’s good at that. Bringing you life when you feel like you’re getting buried alive. He gives life. Gives you life. And you feel so alive around him.

   You could drown in this bathtub, disappear under the thick sheen of bubbles until the world goes silent, but he wouldn’t let you go so easily. So maybe you’ll just drown in him instead. 

   Silence resonates over the bathroom. Only the longing stares and unspoken words fill the empty void. And it’s so obvious now why every time you stare into those soft brown eyes you fall a little more. 

   That’s it. You’re falling for him. Slowly, cautiously, silently. And maybe one day he’ll catch you, too. Maybe you’ll just fall into his arms one day when you’re a bit braver. Maybe he’ll take the sting out of your bleeding wounds. Maybe he’ll be exactly what you’ve needed all along. 

   But today, you’re not that brave. So you’ll just keep it bottled up like you do most things. For now, you’ll just let the slow burn simmer until it’s an uncontrollable wildfire that bursts into fiery flames. 

   Another few minutes pass by and just as the bath water starts to get cold, Joel asks, “You ‘bout ready to get out, sweetheart?”

   “Yeah. It’s getting a little cold now.”

   “Alright. Well, here’s a clean towel. Gonna put it right here for you.” He sets a fluffy white towel next to the side of the tub and nods his head toward the sink. “And I put your pajamas on the counter for you.”

   “Thank you,” you reply quietly, fascinated by the lengths he goes to make sure you’re taken care of.

   “You gonna be okay?” he asks, his words softening like his gentle brown eyes.

   “I think so,” you nod as a bubble pops around you. 

   “Alright, sweetheart.” He pushes off the floor with a grunt and heads toward the closed door, his hand reaching for the doorknob. “Well, I’ll let you get dried off and changed. I’m jus’ gonna…”

   “Joel?” You stop him before he leaves the room.

   “Yeah?” He turns his head, slicking a hand back through his dark locks.

   “Thank you… for being here for me.”

   A gentle smile meets his lips and a soft chuckle comes out. “Anytime, angel. Anytime.”

   Angel. He called you angel. 

   With one more glance, he’s exiting the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him. You sink into the tub, letting out a deep breath and closing your eyes. 

   Joel did it. He helped you take a small step forward, helped you face one of your fears. And he didn’t push you, didn’t even nudge you toward the shower head. Instead, he drew you a bath and helped you get through it in one piece. You don’t think you can ever say enough words to thank him for what he did tonight. But deep down, he knows. 

   After drying off and throwing on your pink pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, you run the towel through your wet strands and rake the brush through your locks, already exhausted from the exertion of your shower meltdown. But then relief hits you that you took one step. 

   The first step is always the hardest, and Joel was right there, holding your hand the entire way. He was the reason you made it into the bathtub. And with him, it wasn’t as scary as you thought it’d be. Although, it was still terrifying, but you did it. 

   One step forward, no more back. 

   When you’re slipping under the sheets and about to turn off the bedside lamp, a slight knock sounds across the room, and your head snaps to the closed door, pulling your hand back from the lit lamp. 

   “Come in,” you echo across the big room. 

   The doorknob turns and in comes Joel, hesitantly hovering by the threshold of the open door, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You all settled?”

   “All settled,” you reply, shifting just a smidge beneath the warm comforter.

   “That’s good.” He leans against the doorway, his broad muscles pulling against the flannel fabric, eyes as warm as the first night you saw them. 

   You fidget your fingers around a thin piece of string, flicking your eyes nervously up at the man that stands in the glow of the dim hall lights. A man that helped you face one of your fears. And suddenly, you can’t think of what to say, so you just silently stare up at him until he speaks. 

   “Jus’ wanted to see if you got to bed alright.” He hovers there, big hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on the heel of his leather boots. 

   “Oh, right. Yeah, guess I made it alright.”

   He nods, giving you another soft smile in return. “You need anything? Water, tea?” 

   Shaking your head, you smile. “No. I think I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

   “Anytime, sweetheart.”

   Another pause and then he’s slowly turning away from you. “Well, uhh. I’ll let you get some sleep, sweetheart. S’been a long day—”

   “Wait,” you stop him and watch him turn back toward you, his eyebrows threaded together, an eager stare masking his face. 

   “Yeah?” he asks, anticipation hanging in the air. 

   This is it. You gulp down a breath, blow one out, and let another fall from your lips. “Joel, I just wanted to say thank you. For… for helping me take that first step of facing something that’s been eating me alive.”

   He nods, the pad of his thumb brushing over his denim jeans. “You were brave doin’ that, you know? After what you’ve been through… That took a lot of guts.”

   “Yeah…” you whisper out, nails digging deep into the blanket over your thighs, but then you flick your eyes up to him. “Not just for that either but also for listening to me. You didn’t have to…”

   “I did have to, though. That’s what you needed. Someone to listen.”

   Your eyes widen, throat tightens up, and you feel the prick of a tear meet your lash line. He wants to listen to you. He didn’t shut you out when you needed to get a little weight off your shoulders.

   Brushing away the tear before it can fall, you give him a look that says how desperate you are to be free from these nightmares that plague your mind. “Maybe if I just… talk about it then maybe it won’t hurt so bad.”

   His face drops, and his big, sad eyes look like a lost puppy who just watched its owner drive off without them. “Oh, sweetheart… I’m always here. I’ll always listen. You jus’ let me know when, and I’ll be right by your side. And Tess will listen. Ya know, when you’re ready, that is. But I’ll be your outlet when you need one.”

   You tug on a little smile, giving everything you have to show him how grateful you are he’s here. If it wasn’t for him, you might’ve been lost to the shadows already. But there he is, trying to pull you into the sunlight. 

   Sunlight. He’s sunlight. 

   “You always seem to know exactly what to say, don’t you?” you say reassuringly, eyes glossy as you look up into pools of warmth. 

   He shrugs his broad shoulders and gives you a crooked smile. “I try, sweetheart.”

   There’s a pause in the room, a silence that’s fallen like snow. You’ve suddenly forgotten how to speak so instead, you lift the blanket higher under your chin and slip down further in the bed, letting a yawn leave your lips. 

   Joel shifts by the door and places a large hand on the handle, about to make his exit. “Well, I’ll let you get some sleep, sweetheart.”

   “Yeah, good idea,” you yawn again, now realizing how tired you actually are. 

   But before he steps out, he turns back and looks at you with those sappy brown eyes you can’t seem to get out of your head. “Oh, before I forget…” He pauses to take a breath. “They might’ve tried to drain you, deplete you of everything inside you, but they didn’t steal it all. You’ve still got your shine, your soul, your heart. And they can’t ever take that from you. You’ve got so much potential in you, and I see it all. You’re gonna glow. I already see that flame in you. S’burnin’ brighter than a wildfire.”

   Eyes as wide as can be, you swallow back a choke and feel your eyes swimming. Did he really just say that?

   Brighter than a wildfire. 

   You open your mouth but nothing comes out. It’s like you’re stunned in place, frozen under a bright spotlight with nowhere to run. Nowhere except maybe to Joel because he’s at the end of the bright light just waiting for you. 

   He’s waiting. 

   “Thanks for seeing that I was worth saving…” you whisper out, still enamored by his kind words, his doe eyes, his beautiful heart. 

   “You’re welcome, angel,” he smiles, his hand still hovering over the doorknob. “Well, good night, sweetheart. Try to get some sleep.”

   “Good night…”

   And then he’s shutting the door softly, leaving you still mesmerized and bewitched by all the events that unraveled this evening. But most of all, you can’t forget every single word he said to you. 

   He sees potential in you, sees it all. He thinks you were worth saving. Thinks you’re gonna glow and shine and thrive. 

   As you rest your head on the fluffy pillow and close your eyes, all you see is Joel. Joel Joel Joel. And he’s the last thing you see before you slip off into a deep sleep. Except he’s still there in your dreams, shining like gold under the sunlight. 

   He’s sunlight. 

Tag List: @clawdee @jellybeanxc @lotusbxtch @thebeldroramscal @laurrrra

@whxtedreams @sawymredfox @sanarsi @mountainsandmayhem @bitchytimetravelqueen

@southernbe @katinasweeney @pixelspunk @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@christinamadsen @aurorawritestoescape @evolnoomym @littlevenicebitch69 @alltheirdamn

@inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @fandomdaydreamer @elliaze

@callmecath1 @kulekehe @yorkshirewench @untamedheart81

@tateypots @stylesispunk @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @mellymbee @pascalsbae

@locaparapedrito @ladyofmidlo72 @readingiskeepingmegoing @copperhalfcent @axshadows

@here-briefly @cozylittlepigeon @pastawench @keylimebeag @joelsoftie

@romanarose @captainredspade @megangovier @bishtrouille @almodovarispunk

@papipascaaaal @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @bambisweethearts @puddles221b

@valkyreally @northennlights

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter One: Blue Hydrangeas- Gratitude

Summary: Your job as a florist has been the highlight of your day for years. It becomes even more exciting when a certain new customer becomes a regular.

Word Count: 2286

Author's Note: Hey guys! My first multi-chapter fic, i'm so excited!!! i don't have a strict posting schedule, but I won't go more than two weeks without an update. please bear with me here because I have no idea what it's like to be a florist. I hope you all enjoy!!

p.s. special shoutout again to @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading, i can't thank you enough!

fic below the cut :)

You were a part of the small minority of people who actually loved their job.

The concept of this was strange to most people — strangers making small talk, men asking introductory questions on dates, even your own parents. Maybe because it wasn’t exactly a career; more so a job that someone has as a way to make rent while getting their degree, which is how you originally began to work at Earth's Laughter Florists. College had been years ago for you now, and yet you stayed behind the counter, making bouquets for customers with a genuine smile on your face. It got to the point that when the old owner decided it was time to retire, she chose you to take over. Of course, you immediately accepted; this job was the best part of your day. While all of your friends were going insane with their office jobs, you… admittedly still went insane from time to time, just in a much prettier workplace.

You had even taken it upon yourself to learn flower language: different types of flowers having different symbolic meanings. It was almost like extra credit. It gave you a new challenge of arranging flowers while keeping both color and symbolism in mind, and helped you create bouquets and arrangements with more meaning. This, in turn, gave your customers a new incentive to buy different flowers for different occasions based on what they meant. More business for you, more smiles on people's faces, and more money in your pocket. Everyone wins.

Another benefit of the job — your favorite part — was that it gave you small glimpses into the lives of other people. Flowers had a multiplicity of sorts. They were so versatile that people bought from you for almost every occasion. Weddings, funerals, birthdays, dance recitals, you name it. It made you more appreciative of others. Every day was a new insight into whatever your customers had going on. And today was no exception.

You arrived an hour before the store opened, as usual. You went into the back and threw on your apron, adjusting your name tag. Thoughts of everything you had to do before opening ran through your head, and you quickly began to busy yourself with everything from giving some flowers new vases of water to following up on an order for a wedding. Your two coworkers came in around a half an hour after your arrival, donning their aprons, saying their hellos, and also beginning their day. When the time finally came, you flipped around the sign hanging from the door, telling everyone outside you were open. You stood behind the counter and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

One of the only downsides of your job was that it required a lot of patience.

It's not like you were just staring at the clock, biding your time until a customer entered. You still had work to get done, mostly tying up loose ends from what you didn't finish before. Your coworkers were occupied with a tall order of arrangements, so they stuck to the back, with the occasional popping in to ask if you needed assistance. Politely, you declined.

Mundane was the word that kept repeating itself in your head as you did your odd jobs around the store. Not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, mundane meant nothing horrible was occurring (even though it meant nothing was occurring). Of course, mundane never does last long.

You had just finished creating an arrangement to put on display when your first customer of the day walked in.

The bell above the door rang, and you quickly walked back over to where you were supposed to be standing, not even bothering to see who had walked in until you were behind the counter.

The first thing you noticed was that he was taller than you had expected, with long brown curls that fell down to his shoulders. His outfit, a black turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, and black jeans, was the right mix of formal and casual; you could tell he had somewhere to be, but with people that wouldn't mind if he laughed a little too loudly.

To top it all off, he was handsome. You couldn't pull your gaze from him if you tried.

He walked forward, slowly looking around at all the flowers on display until his gaze locked onto you. He broke the silence between you.

“Hello. I need some flowers.”

You maintained your composure and brushed off your previous thoughts. You started your usual routine, asking him the same questions to get to know the situation (and him) better.

“What's the occasion?”

“It's my mum’s birthday.”

“Does she have a favorite flower?” You asked. He replied with no hesitation.

“She loves hydrangeas. Blue hydrangeas. She always has.”

His immediate answer brought a small smile to your face. You nodded intently and began to think of all the possible combinations of flowers that would work well.

“You're specific. I like that. That makes my job easier. Usually guys say something like ‘I don't know’ or ‘the purple ones’ or just ‘roses’. It's like some people don't even pay attention.”

“Well, that's all I know how to do.”

“A blessing and a curse, I imagine.”

“More of a blessing, believe it or not.”

“I have a similar blessing, though it seems to be laser-focused on plants of all things.” You joked. “Speaking of plants, let me start on your bouquet.”

You left your spot, walking over to the wall of flowers on display for you to pick from. You stopped and stood next to the man, fixated on the wall as you tried to decide what flowers would go well together, in meaning and in visuals. Mumbling, you thought out loud.

“Alright. For his mother. Blue hydrangeas… that's gratitude. What can go with that?”

The customer tilted his head in confusion, clearly having heard you.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but what's with blue hydrangeas and gratitude?” He asked. Your eyes widened, and you turned to face him as you started your explanation.

“Oh, it's flower language. I learned about it to help me make more symbolic bouquets. Back in the Victorian era, people would use bouquets of flowers to convey messages they couldn't say out loud. Most of the time it was a love confession, though you could also reject someone if you picked your flora wisely. Individual flowers have meanings, too. Blue hydrangeas, your mum's favorite, symbolize gratitude. There was even a change in the meaning based on which side the ribbon was on, or if they were given upside down, and…” You cut yourself off when you realized you’d been talking for much too long, your excited expression dropping. “I’m rambling about something you definitely don't care about. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a confused look, and a small laugh of disbelief escaped him.

“What? Don't apologize. That was fascinating. I don't know if I’ll ever see flowers the same way again. In a good way, of course”

The fact that he was actually invested in what you had to say pleasantly surprised you. People — not just customers, people you actually choose to surround yourself with — would often tune you out after the first two sentences.

You knew this man for two minutes and he was already raising your standards.

“Well then, I’m happy to give you a new perspective. I’ll get started on your arrangement.”

You stepped back to get a better look at the flowers lining the walls of the room. You already had a vague idea of what you wanted, you just needed to put it into action. Hydrangeas were grabbed first, and made the focal point of the bouquet immediately. Other flowers were picked up and put down, a trial-and-error of sorts until you found which ones truly matched.

Occasionally, you looked over your shoulder to find your customer still standing there, spectating you from a few feet away. He watched you with a certain gleam in his eye, one you would attribute to admiration if you didn't know any better.

Once your selections were made, you picked out a plastic sheet and took the flowers into the back, where there was a smaller room with a much larger table surface for a workspace. The wrapping was laid out, and meticulously, flowers were laid down. Rearranged. Shifted around. After a few small touches, everything was in the exact place you wanted it.

You finally finished up, wrapping the flowers in the silver plastic and tying it up with a blue ribbon. You went back behind the counter and held the bundle of flowers up, pointing at each one as you described the meaning of each specifically selected flower.

“There's the blue hydrangeas for gratitude, white roses for loyalty and beauty, and belladonna delphinium for protection and well-being. You're basically showering your mum with compliments with this thing.”

“It's gorgeous,” he replied, the look of astonishment from before lingering on his face.

“As nature tends to be.”

“I mean, you can't argue with that, but the way you’ve arranged them, it's… stunning. She’ll love it.”

His compliment surprised you; it wasn't too often you got such a compliment for a simple bouquet. It caused your heart to flutter in your chest in a way that definitely crossed the border of the employee-customer relationship you had going on. Frightening. Maybe if you kept acting unaffected, it would magically stop.

“Let me ring you up.”

There was no true cash register, and you instead relied on a pen, a yellow legal pad, and mental math for customers’ totals. It took a moment, but you calculated what he owed you.

“That'll be $54.”

He muttered in agreement, and you watched as he reached into his coat pocket. His hand stayed there, fiddling around. After a moment, he reached the opposite hand into the opposite pocket. He felt around for a second, pulling his hands out and placing them on his hips. His content expression was replaced by one that was much more panicked.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“I…I forgot my wallet back at my house. Do you take any online payment?”

You shook your head.

“No, sorry. We're old school. That's alright though, I can put these to the side and you can run home and get your wallet.”

He let out a frustrated sigh in response, angry more at himself than anything else.

“That's the thing. I live thirty minutes from here and I’m meeting my mum in fifteen minutes, and I have specific instructions to be on time. I might just…”

He stopped his sentence, paused, and took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’ll find something else. Thanks for all your help, though. You have a gift.”

You caught the sincerity behind his now bitter tone, and it made your heart ache. He turned to leave and took a few steps forward. You didn't process that you had said anything until his reaction.

“Wait.”

He immediately stopped in his tracks and turned around, and you realized your impulses led you to call out for him even though you had no plan whatsoever.

Biting at your lower lip, you thought of an idea. You genuinely wanted to help this man give his mother flowers… The fact you found him attractive was merely an added bonus. Besides, the pity you felt for him overrode that. Once the metaphorical light bulb lit above your head, you spoke again, leaning in closer and lowering your voice so only he could hear.

“Okay, I’m not supposed to do this, and this definitely isn't a good business practice, but I can tell you're not just doing this to steal flowers from me, so I’ll make an exception.”

He leaned in as well with a look of intrigue. You continued to explain.

“You can take the bouquet for now, and then within… I don't know, two days, you have to pay me back. I’d just need a name and phone number so I can contact you if you don't show up.”

You snatched one of your business cards from the display and flipped it over so the blank side faces upwards, leaving a pen in front of you so he could write. He picked up the ballpoint, seemingly scribbled for a moment, and then slid the card back over to you. Written in surprisingly beautiful handwriting, you read his name aloud.

“Andrew… Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.”

This caught you off guard. For a second you wondered if maybe you did accidentally give a free bouquet to a shady guy.

“Excuse me?”

Andrew’s mouth went agape as he realized the connotation behind what he said, and he quickly muttered an explanation, flustered. “Oh my god! No. Not like that. You… your name tag.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you gave him a nod.

“Right. Forgot that was there for a second. Alright, take your bouquet. Happy birthday to your mother. And remember, two days.”

He gave you a gesture showing his gratitude, pressing his hands together.

“Thank you. So much. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” He said, grabbing the bouquet.

“Hopefully with money in two days,” you joked.

He let out a laugh.

“Money would do the trick. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You watched as he left, the smile of your face growing as you noticed his appreciation of the flowers you had arranged by the doorway. He paused for a moment before opening the door and leaving, and you caught him humming a tune you'd never heard before.

You hoped he would come back much sooner rather than later.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hello hope you are doing well! I had a scenario question but would love any information ❤️❤️

If you suddenly woke up in Twisted Wonderland and had to face Azul, what strategies would you use to win against him? How do you think someone can manipulate or defeat him? I’m curious about how we saw it happen in Chapter 3, but I’m wondering what other weaknesses he might have.

Realistically, I feel like there's only 3 ways the average person ("average" meaning assuming average skills/talents and intelligence; no magic) could "beat" Azul at his own game:

Know smart or powerful people who can help you find loopholes and/or to lend you a hand in executing a plan. This is essentially what happened in book 3; Yuu gets advice from Malleus that helps them realize the true nature of the contracts, then recruits Savanaclaw to help them pull off their heist. Without the support of Malleus and Leona, it's highly unlikely Yuu and co. could have come out victorious or successfully manipulated Azul's actions as they did.

Don't entertain Azul or make a deal with him in the first place. This is what Leona recommends doing in book 3. It follows very simple but effective logic. If you never get involved with Azul, then he can't exactly take advantage of you, now can he?

Weaponize information against him. I don't think this would be feasible for someone who just got isekai'd to another world and is still trying to get their bearings on it. However, I do feel like Azul isn't the type of obstacle you can brute force; you'd have to take your time and gather data on what his weak points are in order to gain leverage over him. We sort of see Yuu and Jack attempt this in book 3; they follow Azul around to try and see where he struggles but he appears to be perfect in all of his classes. You'd probably have to dig even deeper than his high school career. For example, if you were somehow able to dig up dirt on Azul that he doesn't want to let out (such as his experience of being bullied as a child), you could open up the route of negotiations. As it currently stands, you don't have anything to bargain with besides Ramshackle Dorm.

If it were me in Yuu's shoes, I'd probably avoid making a deal to begin with (I'm very risk-averse www). If I do have to make the deal, I'll prioritize information warfare (blackmail is okay sometimes/j). My absolutely last resort would be to such up my pride and phone a friend for help. That's... kind of the same order Yuu goes in canon anyway, no?

[ak319]

Hello, I love your writing so much, if you can do so, could you please write a Yandere!Arthur Morgan x infant daughter reader where he's a papa bear to her, and he finds out she's being bullied by other kids in school. Ofc familial /platonic please

Thank you and hope you have a great day!

AN: moi heart AGH! Cute!! Tsym btw! (^///^) Warnings/MDNI: None, jus' fluff fluff nd' fluff! A little angst, bullying +++ Arthur is 30, Modern AU🍼 tag list: @nayykura @shackspossum @whalecage

Arthur's ears perked at the sound of your soft burp, a tiny noise that brought a tired but satisfied smile to his face. Finally. One of the trickiest tasks, but one he wouldn’t trade for the world. He adjusted his grip on you, gently patting your small back, his broad hand covering you almost entirely. Rocking in his old chair, the rhythmic creak matching his soft coos and steady breathing, he lulled you into a peaceful slumber, and before long, he drifted off too.

After a long, grueling day this was what grounded him. You were his balm, his anchor, the only thing keeping him steady after everything he’d been through. Holding you brought him a peace he never thought he’d feel again.

Stirring awake, he carefully laid you on the bed, making sure to stack pillows securely on the empty side. Then he stretched out beside you, his rugged face softening as he traced the curve of your cheek with a rough, calloused finger. He couldn’t resist placing featherlight kisses on your tiny forehead and rosy cheeks, his heart swelling with a love so fierce and pure it almost hurt

He couldn’t be more grateful for your presence. Just you, him, and this quiet farmhouse nestled in a peaceful community. The same family farmhouse he had nearly sold, back when everything seemed simpler, before life turned upside down.

Then he almost lost it all. Your mother, his wife (M/N), taken from him in a senseless tragedy during his time as a cop. The memory still felt like a jagged wound, one that would never fully heal. By some miracle, you had been spared, untouched by the violence that claimed her. God knows what he would have done if… if something had happened to you too. The thought alone twisted his stomach into knots. He knew he wouldn’t have survived it, he would’ve lost himself entirely.

So, he made a choice. He left it all behind after ensuring the culprits got caught and sentenced. The city, the job, the chaos. He packed up what was left of his life and came here, to the farm. Away from those dangerous, vengeful people who had shattered his family.

He wasn’t alone in the transition. His childhood best friend, John, stood by his side, helping him find his footing in this new chapter. With John’s support, he rebuilt, trading badges and bullets for the quiet rhythm of rural life. Now, he works from home as a graphic designer, balancing his new career with the role that means the most to him: being your father.

The move to the farmhouse was no easy feat, but Arthur didn’t care about the logistics, his top priority was you. Arthur let only Abigail watch over you while he handled the chaos of packing and unpacking. He didn’t trust babysitters, no way in hell. He’d heard enough horror stories from folks and read about things in the news that made his blood boil. The idea of leaving you with a stranger wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was unthinkable.

The only person he trusted was Abigail. “You’re family, and you’ve got Jack, so you know how it is,” he’d said when asking her to keep an eye on you. His version of breathing was checking in every ten minutes, asking Abigail if you’d eaten, slept, or cried. Even when he knew you were safe, his mind wouldn’t rest until he saw you again.

The farm itself had seen its fair share of upgrades, some subtle, others impossible to miss. The once-simple property now stood fortified with long, reinforced fences and modern electric security gates. The kind designed to deliver a harmless but sharp jolt to anything attempting to breach them, ensuring no unwelcome visitors, human or otherwise, made it in.

Security cameras were mounted everywhere, their lenses scanning every corner of the property without missing a spot. Arthur had spent weeks installing them, triple-checking blind spots until there were none.

And for those thinking of trying their luck? Booby traps, carefully concealed and strategically placed, added an extra layer of insurance. He hadn’t been sure at first, was that going too far?--but the idea of anyone getting past his defenses to threaten you erased any hesitation.

Inside, the house was an entirely different kind of fortress. Childproofing was everywhere, every sharp corner was padded, and cabinets latched tight.

Then there was the basement. What was once a dusty, forgotten space had been transformed into a stockpile, his grandfather’s old cavalry arsenal, now fully restocked and meticulously maintained. The weapons had been relics from a long-forgotten outlaw era, but Arthur saw them as a necessity. A last resort. If anyone dared to cross that line, they’d find out the hard way what kind of man they were dealing with.

Because nothing, nothing, was more important than keeping you safe.

❀˖°

“Hey--no, no-" Arthur picked you up, his glare faltering under the effort to stay stern. “You don’t claw or brawl with Pa’ on this matter, miss.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, though the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement as your legs thrashed in the air. 'Aren't you a tiny feral adorable kid---no be strict , Arthur-'

' “You, ma’am, are going in the tub-”

“WAIT! I’ll go myself!” you blurted, words tumbling out so fast they were practically gibberish. But Arthur, seasoned in the art of decoding your toddler babble, understood every syllable.

“Fine,” he huffed, setting you back down and straightening up with his hands on his hips. He gave you a look that screamed, I’m watching you.

Your eyes darted everywhere but to him. “Um-kay!,” you muttered with exaggerated determination, shuffling your feet as if preparing for the world’s longest journey.

“1,” you started.

“2…”

“um..4? 3-”

“You ain’t counting to ten for the tenth time, young lady. That’s it.” Before you could stage another dramatic delay, he swooped you up mid-mock-Olympian stance and plopped you straight into the tub.

“NOOOOOOO! NOT FAIR! you wailed, your indignation echoing off the bathroom walls.

“Nothing’s fair in baths and bedtimes,” he said with a grin, rolling up his sleeves. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, Bunny.”

❀˖°

Arthur set the plates and a steaming dish of soup and garlic bread on the table, his ears perking up as your voice carried in through the open window, accompanied by Mouse’s sharp barks. His German shepherd was stationed outside, a necessity for security, Arthur didn’t trust Mouse’s temperament indoors, and keeping the dog outside served as both a deterrent and a watchful guardian.

He glanced out and spotted you with a ball, your tiny frame dwarfed by the expanse of the yard. His jaw tightened. What’d I say about being out at this hour?

He stalked to the lawn without hesitation, his boots crunching against the gravel. He scooped you up without warning, setting you on his hip like you weighed nothing.

“When it’s near dusk, you are to be inside, you get inside without me needing to remind and call you every time,” he said, his voice firm, though not unkind. “Why do I always have to repeat myself?”

“I was gonna come, Pa’!” you protested, squirming slightly. Jeez, he needs to loosen up sometimes.

Arthur stopped, fixing you with a look that left no room for argument. “Some things I say are meant to be words on stone, you hear me? No arguing, Bug.”

He set you down gently but guided you firmly toward the house, casting one last glance at the fence and Mouse, whose ears twitched as if sensing Arthur’s unease.

❀˖°

The early morning mist still clung to the fields as Arthur loaded up the old truck, a fishing pole in the back, tackle box rattling as he slid it into place. The air was crisp, the scent of pine and fresh earth mingling with the faint smell of dew on the grass. You sat in the passenger seat, your legs swinging with excitement as you clutched your little fishing hat, a hand-me-down from Arthur that was still a bit too big for your head.

The drive to the lake was peaceful, the old truck rumbling along the dirt road as the first rays of sunlight broke through the trees. The lake, just a short distance from the farm, was quiet this time of morning, still and calm, with only the occasional ripple as the wind stirred the water.

Arthur parked the truck by the shore and hopped out, stretching his arms over his head. He opened the back, grabbing your tiny fishing rod first, a smaller one he had made sure to get just for you. He handed it over, his large hands carefully guiding yours to the handle.

“You know what to do, Bug?” he asked, crouching down to your level, his tone soft but serious.

You nodded, eyes gleaming with determination. “I throw it in, wait, then reel it in, Pa’!”

“Good girl,” he said, pride swelling in his chest. “But remember, patience is key. The fish don’t always bite right away.”

You gave him a mock serious look, puffing out your chest. “I can be patient.”

Arthur smiled and ruffled your hair before picking up his own rod. Together, you both walked to the edge of the water, the soft crunch of grass underfoot. He demonstrated how to cast his line, showing you the way to swing the rod before releasing it into the water. You watched carefully, eyes focused on the movement, and then it was your turn.

Arthur stood behind you, guiding your hands as you swung the rod and released the line, the soft splash of it hitting the water echoing in the quiet morning. You let out a little cheer, stepping back to wait.

“Good job, Bug. Now we wait.”

You sat down on the grassy shore, your legs dangling, and Arthur followed suit, sitting close enough that he could keep an eye on you but still giving you the space to enjoy the moment. The world seemed so still here, only the sounds of the water lapping gently at the shore and the occasional bird call filling the air.

Minutes passed. Arthur cast his line again, his concentration on the ripples in the water, but he always kept an ear out for you. You were so quiet, so focused on the task at hand, that he couldn’t help but smile.

“Pa’?” you asked after a while, your voice soft but curious.

“Yeah, Bug?”

“Can we do this every month!?”

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. He turned to look at you, his chest tight with love. “Of course, Bug. We’ll always fish together, whenever you want.”

You beamed, your little fingers still wrapped around the fishing rod, staring out at the lake with a peaceful contentment that mirrored his own.

And then, as if on cue, there was a tug on the line. You gasped, your eyes wide, and Arthur was there in a flash, his strong hands guiding yours as you struggled to reel it in.

“Got it, Bug! Reel it in, slow and steady. You’ve got this.”

You grinned, your little arms straining against the weight of the fish, the excitement in your eyes contagious. Arthur stood close, his hands still hovering just in case, but he could see you were doing it all on your own.

With a final pull, you brought the fish to the shore, Arthur helping you hold it up for a brief moment, both of you staring at the wriggling catch.

“We did it!” you cheered, jumping up and down with excitement.

Arthur laughed, lifting you up into his arms. “You did it, Bug. You caught the first one. I’m proud of you.”

You giggled, your face flushed with happiness. “We’re gonna have fish for lunch! YAY!👹 "

Arthur laughed, holding you close. “Yeah, we will. And we’re gonna have a lot more days just like this.”

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, you both spent the rest of the morning fishing, the peaceful quiet of the lake wrapping around you like a blanket. Every now and then, Arthur would catch a fish of his own, but it was clear which one of you was the real star of the day.

❀˖°

One evening, as usual, Arthur sat at his desk, working on his laptop, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his focused face. You were sitting nearby, playing quietly, but after a moment, you turned to him, your small brow furrowed in thought.

“Pa,” you asked, your voice soft but filled with curiosity, “why don’t I have a mommy like Jack? Like the ones on T. V. ?”

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. He had been waiting for this question, dreading it, but he knew it was time to answer. He paused for a moment, setting his laptop aside, and turned to face you, his expression gentle.

“Well, Bug,” he started, his voice warm and tender, “you know how some kids have two parents, right? They’re like a big team, helpin' each other out. But you,” he said with a wink, “you’re extra special. Sometimes, God decides one parent is all a kid needs. Just one, but that one’s enough to love ‘em, protect ‘em, and make sure they’re always happy.”

He leaned down to your level, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. “And that’s you, sweetheart. You got me, and I got you. We’re a team too, just the two of us.”

You blinked, absorbing his words, and a small smile tugged at your lips. Arthur ruffled your hair affectionately, the worry in his chest easing as he saw you begin to understand.

“Some kids might need a bigger team, but not you. You’re my girl, and I’m all you need, ain’t that right?”

You nodded slowly, your eyes lighting up with trust and love. Arthur smiled, his heart full. “You don’t need a mommy to be loved, Bug. You’ve got all the love you could ever need, right here with me.”

He pulled you into a tight hug, feeling your little arms wrap around him. “And I’m gonna love you forever, no matter what.”

❀˖°

Arthur couldn't believe how quickly time had passed. One moment, it seemed like you were still a tiny thing, curled up in his arms, and now, the time had come to enroll you in school. He didn't want to let you go. He'd kept you close, always close, and the thought of someone else seeing you, taking care of you, made a cold knot form in his stomach. But he knew John was right. You needed to make friends. You needed to grow.

"Y/N needs to learn how to be around other kids, Arthur," John had said, his voice filled with that well-meaning confidence. "Jack goes to the same school too, so it'll be fine. It's just school. Let her have a chance."

Arthur had reluctantly agreed. He trusted John, mostly, and if Jack was there, well... that was a bit of relief. Still, the idea of you being away from him, surrounded by others, made his chest tighten. He was used to keeping you safe, keeping you all to himself. The thought of someone else influencing you, teaching you things....but he would do this for you.

And so, with his heart heavy but his determination set, Arthur had filled out the papers and enrolled you in school. He kept telling himself it was for your own good, that it would help you grow, make you more confident. Even if it was hard to admit, you were growing up, and he had to let you experience the world outside the walls of their home.

But Arthur knew something else, too. You were shy. You didn't like being around other people, especially strangers. He'd always been there to protect you, to shield you from the world outside. But now, the world would be coming to you.

As he walked you to school for the first time, his hand lingering a little too long on your shoulder, he whispered softly, "You stick close to brother Jack, alright? If you need any help, you go to him. You don’t need anyone else. Just him, just me, and you. No one else matters."

You gave him a shy nod, looking up at him with those wide eyes that always seemed to need reassurance. Arthur smiled down at you, brushing a lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a moment too long.

"Good girl. And don’t let anyone take advantage of you.”

❀˖°

“You eat your lunch today?” Arthur asked, his tone casual but observant, as you stood in front of him with your hands tucked behind your back.

You nodded quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Uh-huh!”

Arthur opened the lunchbox, finding it spotless inside, not a crumb left. For a moment, he felt a spark of pride, was he really lucky enough to have a kid who finished her lunch every single day? But then, something about your overly innocent expression made him pause. He set the lunchbox down and folded his arms, tilting his head.

“So,” he said, setting the lunchbox down and crossing his arms, “how was it?”

“Hmm?” You glanced up at him.

“The sandwich,” he said, watching your reaction closely. “Was it good?”

“Oh, yeah!” you said too brightly. “Really yummy.”

Arthur tilted his head, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “What did I make again? Just slipped my mind.”

“Uh… peanut butter and jam?” you mumbled.

Arthur’s jaw tightened, though his expression stayed calm. He crouched down to your level, his presence steady and unyielding. “You sure about that, darlin’? Because I know I packed you a chicken and cheese sandwich this mornin’.”

You froze, the color draining from your face.

He sighed, shaking his head lightly. “Now, you and I both know you didn’t eat that sandwich. So why don’t you go on and tell me what really happened?”

You looked down at your shoes, your voice trembling. “I… I was going to eat it, but some kids… they took it.”

Arthur’s heart sank, though his expression remained calm for your sake. He reached out and gently lifted your chin so you had to meet his eyes. “They took it?”

You nodded, biting your lip as tears threatened to spill. “I told them to stop, but… but they wouldn’t give it back. They laughed and said it wasn’t m-ine anymore.”

Arthur’s jaw clenched a flicker of something dark flashing in his eyes. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Bug,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, “you listen to me. No one, and I mean no one, gets to treat you like that. You understand?”

You sniffled, nodding against his shoulder.

“They got names, these kids?” he asked, his voice soft but edged with a steel promise that this wasn’t going to be ignored.

You hesitated, your gaze dropping to the floor. Then, in a barely audible whisper, you murmured a few names.

Arthur nodded, his jaw tightening. “Alright. I’ll deal with ‘em. You ain’t gotta worry about that anymore.”

As he reached out to hold your hand, his fingers brushed against a faint redness across your skin. He stilled, his brow furrowing. “What’s this?”

You instinctively tried to pull your hand away, but Arthur held it gently, his thumb brushing over the red mark. “Bug,” he said, his tone dropping to that low, firm register that always made you listen. “Who did this to you?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you sniffled. “It... it was the teacher,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Arthur blinked, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. “The teacher?” he repeated, his tone deceptively calm, though you could feel the storm brewing beneath it.

“I told her about the kids taking my lunch,” you explained, your words coming in halting gasps. “She... she said I was tattling and hit me with a ruler for ‘causing trouble.’”

Arthur’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, but only for a moment.

Arthur stood so abruptly that his chair scraped loudly against the floor. “Get your shoes on, Bug. We’re going to the school.”

“But-”

"No buts. No one lays a hand on my girl, now c'mon, Pa’s got somethin’ he needs to take care of."

The sound of Arthur’s boots echoed ominously in the otherwise quiet hallway as he strode toward the principal’s office, his expression carved from stone. His hand hovered protectively over your shoulder as he guided you along.

The principal looked up as Arthur entered, his usual composure faltering at the sight of the respectable ex-cop's stormy glare.

“Mr. Morgan,” the principal began, forcing a tight smile, “is there-”

Arthur didn’t wait for pleasantries. “There a reason my daughter came home with a red welt on her hand?” he demanded, his voice low but seething.

The principal blinked, momentarily caught off guard “I--I’m not sure what you mean-”

“She told me her teacher hit her,” Arthur interrupted, his words sharp enough to cut. “With a ruler. After she reported kids stealin’ her lunch. That’s what I mean.”

“Well, if a teacher disciplined her, I’m sure-”

Arthur stepped forward, leaning over the desk, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “You think layin’ a hand on my girl is ‘discipline’? You call ignorin’ the bullies and punishin’ the victim a job well done?

“We have rules about-”

Arthur leaned forward, his presence towering even as he kept his voice level. “You got rules about discipline, huh? How about rules about protectin’ kids?! Or do you only enforce the ones that let you blame the victim!?”

“Mr. Morgan, I understand you’re upset-”

“Upset doesn’t cover it,” Arthur snapped, his voice rising slightly. “My girl’s been comin’ home hungry because you let bullies run wild. And now she’s got a bruise on her arm because she finally got tired of takin’ it? You think that’s how you run a school? By punishin’ the one kid who’s just tryin’ to eat her damn lunch in peace? Because if that’s how you run this place, we got a bigger problem than I thought.”

The principal held up his hands, visibly nervous. “I assure you, Mr. Morgan, we take such incidents seriously. I’ll speak to the teacher and-”

“No, you’ll do more than SPEAK!" Arthur took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, you’ll make sure she’s held accountable. And while you’re at it, you’ll deal with those bullies, too. My daughter’s been hungry three times this week because of them, and now she’s got a mark on her hand for speakin’ up?! That ends today.”

“Of course, of course,” the principal stammered. “I’ll handle it immediately.”

Arthur straightened, his gaze never wavering. “You’d better. You’re gonna deal with those bullies and that damned teacher, properly. And you’re gonna make damn sure no one here ever lays a hand on my daughter again. Otherwise, I’ll be takin’ this to the school board, the police, and anyone else who’ll listen. You got no idea what I can do. You got me? You’ll be answerin’ to me."

He turned, placing a reassuring hand on your back as he guided you out of the office. As soon as you were outside, he crouched down and looked you in the eye.

“You did the right thing, Bug,” he said softly. “And I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. But you leave dealin’ with grown-ups to me, alright? Nobody’s gonna hurt you again.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes as he pulled you into a hug.

“Now, let’s go home,” he said, ruffling your hair. “We’ll make somethin’ good for dinner and figure out how to make sure this never happens again.

❀˖°

“So... no school?” you asked hesitantly, peering up at him with wide, uncertain eyes.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, and sighed. “No, Bug. You’re still gonna study--but at home, alright?”

He could already hear John’s voice nagging in his head, telling him he was being too overprotective, that keeping you out of school might isolate you further. But Arthur dismissed it. You were still so young, still figuring out the world, and he decided what was best for you. Nobody else.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” he said firmly, his voice softening as he brushed a hand over your hair. “Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ you go back there to get hurt again. Not by kids who don’t know how to act, not by some teacher who should’ve never had a classroom in the first place. You’re my responsibility, and I ain’t lettin’ anybody mess with you like that. Ever again.”

You nodded slowly, relaxing into the bed. His words felt like a shield wrapping around you, and you trusted him entirely.

Arthur watched you settle, his jaw tightening slightly as anger simmered beneath his calm exterior. He’d been right on the edge of losing it, of storming over to those kids’ homes and making their parents pay the price and make them understand what it meant to raise decent human beings. And that teacher? Though fired, it still didn’t sit right with him. The thought of her laying a hand on you made his blood boil. It had taken every cell to control to not blow her brains out.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on you instead of the anger that threatened to bubble over. “I’ll teach you myself,” he said, his tone lighter now as he tried to make you smile. “We don’t need teachers like that, anyway. I’ll make sure you learn plenty, and we’ll even have fun doin’ it.”

“Really?” you asked, your voice small but hopeful.

“Really,” he said, tugging the blanket up around you and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Now, you get some rest, Bug. We’ll figure out all the details in the mornin’.”

❀˖°

After finishing up the dishes and double checking all the doors, Arthur made his way back to your room. He found you sitting at your small desk, scribbling on a piece of paper with intense concentration.

"What’re you workin’ on, Bug?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

You looked up, a hint of shyness in your eyes. "A thank-you card," you said quietly.

Arthur’s brow furrowed. "For who?"

"For you." You held up the paper, a drawing of you and him making a cake. Above it, in your wobbly handwriting, it read: "Thank you for being my Pa."

Arthur froze, his chest tightening at the sight. He stepped closer, kneeling beside you to get a better look. "Well, I’ll be..." he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "That’s real nice, darlin’. Prettiest thing I’ve seen all day."

You smiled, a little bashful but proud. "You always take care of me. So, I wanted to make something for you too."

Arthur reached out and gently pulled you into his arms, holding you close. "You don’t ever have to thank me for that, sweetheart. Lookin’ after you? That’s the best thing I’ll ever do."

You nuzzled into his chest, your small arms wrapping around his neck. "Still. Love you, Pa."

"I love you more, Bug. Always and forever."

[bruhnze]

Personal Records Ch.4 - epilogue

Summary: this is an epilogue chapter of the series 'Personal Records' that i wrote. It's an AU where Lucy is a personal trainer and Ona is a realestate agent. In this chapter we are eight years after they got together. Ona and Lucy have 2 kids. This epilogue can be read separately, but if you want to read the other parts, those can be found here. And a big thank you to @pinkygirl28 for helping :)

Warnings: Minors DNI, smut. fluff.

Words: 11.458

“Good morning, birthday girl,” Ona leaned over her wife’s shoulder, whispering in her ear and placing a soft kiss against the side of her face, just next to her ear.

Lucy was lying on her stomach, arms wrapped around her pillow, and one knee bent up. Ever since they had kids, Lucy had miraculously started sleeping better. As soon as she hit the bed, she could fall asleep, waking only when one of their two sons came into the room, or when the alarm went off on the rare occasions the boys slept in. Only on very special days—she was woken up by her wife.

Lucy stirred and groaned. “What time is it?” she murmured into the pillow.

Ona chuckled, kissing Lucy’s bare shoulder. “Six fifteen, my love.”

“Six fifteen?” Lucy took a deep breath, rolling over and stretching with a lazy smile. “Hmm, are you waking me up before the alarm for any particular reason, Mrs. Bronze-Battle?”

“Well, with a birthday comes presents,” Ona teased. “You don’t turn forty-one every day, so—”

Lucy gasped, clutching her heart dramatically as she let her head drop back on the pillow. “Babe, I just had a nightmare, oh my God, it was so realistic but so scary,” she said in an exaggerated whisper. “I dreamed that my wife accused me of being forty-one.”

Ona rolled her eyes. “Glad to see you’re still the same weirdo.”

Lucy’s mouth fell open in mock offense. She rolled over and hovered over Ona, holding her wrists beside her head. “Calling the birthday girl a weirdo? Pfft and here I was, thinking I’d get a quickie or something.”

Ona chuckled, pretending to fight for her freedom. “Well, if you keep holding me like this, nothing like that can happen.”

Lucy leaned in, brushing Ona’s neck with her nose and lips, placing a few teasing kisses. “Ahh, so it was the reason you woke me up?”

Ona swallowed. Even after all these years of marriage, she still felt an undeniable pull toward Lucy. She was so attracted to her. Lucy could just... ugh, she was amazing. “Yeah. Didn’t you hear me go to the bathroom a few minutes ago?” Ona said, blushing slightly.

“No, why?”

Ona chuckled. “I put a nice set on.”

Lucy released Ona’s hands and sat back, straddling Ona’s hips carefully, not letting her weight rest on her wife. The covers slid off her back, revealing Ona in a green lingerie set.

Lucy smirked, amused. “Hmm. Happy birthday to me, indeed.”

She shifted, parting Ona’s legs and kneeling between them, before leaning forward to kiss her wife.

“Mmm, even brushed your teeth,” Lucy noted, pulling back.

Ona chuckled, wrapping her legs around Lucy’s hips. “Mhm. I went all out.”

Lucy smiled, gazing into Ona’s eyes. “I love you so much.”

Ona reached up, cupping the back of Lucy’s neck. “I love you too, baby. But a quick reminder: the alarm will go off at exactly seven o’clock.”

With a scrunch of her nose, Lucy leaned in, kissing Ona deeply, her hips grinding gently against Ona’s covered center.

When Ona gasped, Lucy slipped her tongue into the kiss, deepening it.

After a moment Lucy broke away for a breath, Ona bit her lip. “Love it when you kiss me like that.”

“Mm, I love kissing you like that,” Lucy murmured, leaning in again. “My wife.”

“Fuck. You know I am,” Ona said, lifting her head off the pillow to kiss Lucy again.

Lucy smirked, still grinding her hips as she buried her face in Ona’s neck. “Can we use the strap?” she asked sweetly, planting soft kisses. “It’s been a while,” she added with a pout.

“Please,” Ona said breathlessly, nodding as her legs loosened around Lucy.

Lucy kissed her way down Ona’s body, sliding the lace bra up to expose her chest. “Gunna fuck you so good, babe,” she whispered lowly before running her tongue over Ona’s hardened nipple.

Ever since Ona had the kids, her chest had become more sensitive and had stayed that way. She threaded her fingers through Lucy’s hair, guiding her gently to avoid sucking too hard or biting, as Lucy sometimes forgot this fact. Lucy groaned. “I missed this.”

Ona chuckled, letting her head fall back on the pillow. “It’s only been a week, amor.”

“Only?” Lucy looked up at Ona with a smirk before continuing downward.

Lucy started kissing Ona´s stomach until she was squirming.

Smiling, she placed one last kiss before stepping out of bed.

But.. just as Lucy reached for the dresser drawer, the bedroom door opened.

Ona sighed, pulling her top back into place.

Lucy’s gaze shot from her wife to the door and back, disappointment flickering for a moment before worry replaced it. Why did their son look sad?

“Mommy,” their four-year-old mumbled as he walked into the room. “I dreamed... I-I-” A few tears rolled down his cheeks. “Lo siento,” he said, pouting and looking down at the floor.

“Hey, little man,” Lucy said, walking over to him. “What’s wrong?”

As she bent down to pick him up, she realized the issue. “Oh... did you dream you were sitting on the potty again?” she guessed gently.

“Sí,” the boy admitted, still staring at the floor.

“It’s okay, Lucas. You didn’t do it on purpose,” Ona reassured, getting out of bed. “No a propósito.”

“Mhm. Potty training is hard, and you’re doing so well,” Lucy added. “This is only the second time in two weeks you’ve had an accident.” Kneeling in front of her son, she asked, “And what do we always say?”

Lucas looked up, glancing between his two moms. “Accidents... will... eh... happen?”

“Mhm, exactly, accidents happen,” Ona said, pulling on her robe and joining Lucy.

“Come on, let’s clean you up,” Ona said, holding out her hand. “And your bed.”

Lucy followed them.

In the dinosaur-themed bedroom, Ona flicked on the light as Lucy pulled fresh sheets from the closet. Luckily, they’d put a hydrophobic mattress cover on, a lesson learned while potty-training their older son, Oliver, who was now six.

“Babe, you don’t have to do this. I can handle it,” Ona offered, setting clean clothes on the sink in Lucas´ bathroom. “You can shower and go relax downstairs before I start breakfast.”

Lucy smiled. “Of course not. We’re in this together.”

“We are a team!” Lucas called out, repeating the phrase his moms often said.

Lucy’s smile widened. “Yes, we are a team. Aren´t you such a smart kid.”

She exchanged a loving glance with Ona. They adored their little family.

Lucas beamed. “I can shower by myself. Mommies can make the bed.”

Ona chuckled. “I’ll help you with the shower, baby. You’re not getting out of this.”

“I’m not a baby.” Lucas frowned, huffing indignantly.

Ona rolled her eyes affectionately. “You look way too much like your mama.” She walked to the bathroom, setting the water on the right temperature.

“He said that because you called him ‘baby,’ by the way,” Lucy called as she stripped the bed. “Not because he wanted to do it alone.”

Lucas stood there infront of the shower, looking up at his mom. Waiting for her instructions. Ona laughed, realizing Lucy was probably right.

…

After getting Lucas dressed and his bed fresh again, the three of them headed downstairs. It was Friday, and today Lucy’s parents were arriving in Spain. This weekend, they would celebrate Lucy’s birthday.

“Buenos días, Ollie,” Lucy said in surprise, spotting the flicked-on light in the TV room. “Are you up already? Ya estás despierto?” she repeated in Spanish.

They were trying to raise their kids bilingual. When Ona was pregnant, they had discussed at length how to approach it. The options were Spanish, Catalan, and English. But they’d read that introducing three languages at home could confuse children. So, they chose to use Spanish and English at home, with Catalan being learned naturally through school.

“Ya no podía dormir más,” Oliver replied without looking up from what he was doing.

Lucy didn’t need to glance at Ona to know the look on her face. Ona always gave her the same amused expression whenever their boys mirrored her. Oliver was Lucy’s mini-me, no doubt about it—and Ona loved it.

Lucy walked over to see what he was up to behind the couch. There he was, stretched out on his stomach with the dog beside him, the iPad propped up against the couch. He was watching football videos, of course.

“What are you watching, cowboy?” Lucy asked as she climbed over the couch.

“The 2025 Champions League final, Barça against Chelsea,” he replied without taking his eyes off the screen.

“Mmm, that is a good one,” Lucy said appreciatively. “A classic.”

Football was their shared thing. Lucy watched both men’s and women’s matches whenever they were on, and from the time Oliver could sit up, he had joined her. It was adorable, and a little impressive, how much the boy knew about the teams and players.

“And good morning to you, Canela,” Lucy added, scratching the dog behind her ears. When Lucas had turned three, they had finally gotten a dog—a lifelong dream for Lucy. They had ended up with a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever, who Ona had named, much to Lucy’s playful regret.

“Why are you on the floor, anyway?” Lucy questioned as she petted her son’s head.

“I wanted Nela to watch with me,” Oliver said, still absorbed in the game. “I’m showing her women’s football so she can learn and play with me.”

“Aha,” Lucy said, holding back a chuckle. “So, I’m not good enough to play ball with you anymore?”

Oliver looked up, clearly thinking hard about her question.

“You are,” he finally said, “but sometimes you’re at work, and Nela is... siempre en casa.”

“Wow, you really thought about that, didn’t you?” Lucy grinned. “Well, I’m sure she can be your goalie.”

“Yes,” Oliver huffed. “She always takes the ball in her mouth, but I want to pass to each other—”

Suddenly, he gasped. “Wait! Mom!”

Lucy blinked. “What happened?”

“Your cumpleaños!” he shouted as he bolted off.

Lucy followed him with her eyes until her gaze landed on Ona. Her beautiful wife stood in the kitchen, their youngest sitting on the counter. The two women exchanged amused glances. Oliver could be an unpredictable whirlwind at times, always living in his own world.

“Alright,” Lucy chuckled. She picked up the iPad from the floor and set it on the coffee table before heading to the kitchen.

She came up behind Ona, resting her chin on her shoulder. “What’s cooking, good-lookin’?” she teased, placing a kiss just below Ona’s ear.

Ona chuckled, continuing what she was doing. “Making a birthday breakfast.”

“Mmm, I think my chances of a proper birthday breakfast sailed away with a dream about potties.”

Air escaped Ona’s nose as she laughed softly. “Tonight.”

“Oh?” Lucy teased, nipping at Ona’s neck. “With my parents under our roof? Naughty girl.” She buried her face between Ona and the fuzzy collar of her robe, planting playful kisses.

“My favorite breakfast is every breakfast,” Lucas said, sounding contemplative, as if he’d just discovered this truth about himself.

“Oh we know baby, you’re our little glotón,” Ona said, noticing his eager gaze fixed on the food.

In a softer tone, she murmured to Lucy, “Your parents are staying in the guesthouse.”

Lucy bit Ona’s neck teasingly, kissing the spot after, and pulled her wife closer by the hips.

Ona chuckled. “Maybe we can even set up a s-l-e-e-p-o-v-e-r for the boys there, too, in the context of ‘missing them.’”

Lucy laughed, pressing more kisses to Ona’s neck. “Mmm, I like the way you think.”

“Mommy, don’t eat Mama!” Lucas said, offended, pointing at the plates. “Breakfast! Casi listo... almost.”

Lucy pulled back with a grin, turning her attention to her son. “But I. Am. Hungry,” she said, slowly walking towards him like a monster.

“Nooo!” Lucas kicked his legs, laughing as his mother playfully clawed at him.

“I’m so hungry I could eat a little boy!” Lucy said as she swung him over her shoulder.

She carried the squirming, giggling Lucas to the sofa and gently tossed him onto it.

She leaned over, tickling him until his face turned red. “Stop, Mommy, stop!” he whined.

“Say clemència?” she teased, already slowing her attack.

“Piedad, piedad, por favor!” Lucas giggled.

Lucy raised her hands in surrender. “I guess the monster will have to go hungry.”

Lucas chuckled. “Noo-ooh, Mama is making yummy breakfast.”

“Ahh, that’s right. Mama is making breakfast.” Lucy smiled, scooping him into her arms and kissing his cheek. “She’s the best mom, isn’t she?”

Lucas nodded, his little hand resting on Lucy’s cheek as if studying her.

Lucy braced herself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth. Their boys’ words were often delightfully unpredictable.

“Yo amo a mamá,” he said softly, as if sharing a secret.

Lucy nodded knowingly. “Mm, yo también amo a mamá,” she whispered in his ear.

As they approached the kitchen, Lucy set Lucas in his chair and looked around the table to see if anything was missing. She grabbed the glasses and helped set them.

“Looks amazing, babe,” Lucy said as she took her seat.

“Mhm, and now it’s actually not so bad we’re up early, at least there’s plenty of time to eat,” Ona said, wiping her hands on a towel.

Lucy was about to protest Ona’s comment, but she was already heading out of the kitchen. Saying, “I’m going to check on Oliver, and then we can dig in. Okay Lucas? Espera a tu hermano.” Maybe more so directed at both Lucy and her son.

…

With a small bag, Ona returned to the kitchen, Oliver trailing close behind. He carried something in his hands too, holding it carefully like a prized treasure.

“Happy birthday mommy,” Oliver exclaimed, marching over to Lucy. He held up a colorful drawing and a necklace made of Hama beads, the little plastic pieces strung on a string in a colorful, lopsided design.

“For you,” he announced proudly, setting them on the table in front of her.

Lucy smiled as she picked up the necklace. “Wow, Ollie, very pretty. Did you make this all by yourself?”

Oliver nodded enthusiastically. “And the drawing too. It’s us playing football and Nela is there.” He pointed out the dog in the corner of the crayon-colored pitch.

“That’s a beautiful drawing Ollie, and the necklace too, lets see how it looks on me.” Lucy said, putting the necklace on with exaggerated care. “What do you think, mamá?’’ she smiled at Ona, ‘’Does it suit me?”

Ona leaned over, brushing her lips against Lucy’s temple. “It suits you perfectly,” she said with a soft chuckle, ruffling Oliver’s hair. ‘’You did a good job.’’

“And there’s more!” Oliver said, bouncing in place as Ona placed a wrapped box on the table. ‘’Mama has a present too.’’

“Ábrelo, Mommy!” Lucas clapped his hands excitedly.

Lucy chuckled and opened the gift carefully, revealing a sleek new watch inside. She looked at her family with a big smile. “Woahh, what’s that?” She asked as she held the watch up to show her sons.

‘’Ohh un reloj.’’ Oliver said, in awe.

“Do you like it?” Ona asked, watching her wife’s expression closely.

“I love it,” Lucy said, already slipping it onto her wrist. She reached out to pull Ona into a hug. “Thank you love, its beautiful.”

‘’I’m happy you like it,’’ Ona smiled, ‘’and you will get the other presents tomorrow.’’

…

They were finishing breakfast when the doorbell rang.

"Who is that?" Lucas yelled excitedly, sliding off his chair and dashing toward the door.

The heavy door creaked open as Lucas stood on his tiptoes to reach the handle. "Sophia!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around one of her legs before she had even fully stepped inside.

Sophia, took the little boy on her hip. When she stepped in to the kitchen with him she grinned, entirely unfazed by the scene before her. Since moving to Spain permanently and sharing Ona’s PA duties with another assistant, she had become a fixture in their lives. She was no stranger in navigating the chaos of the little family she adored so much.

“Well, isn’t this a sight?” she teased, her gaze sweeping over the kitchen. "What kind of special day is this, cariño?" she said to Lucas as she set him down. "You’re the only one who’s dressed."

At the table, Oliver froze mid-bite of his toast. Realizing he was still in his pajamas, he bolted upstairs before Ona could even open her mouth.

“You should come by every morning, Soph,” Ona said with a smirk, watching Oliver’s retreating figure.

Sophia smiled, “you know I’d happily help you guys with the boys every day, they’re adorable.”

Lucy, tipping back the last of her juice, gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry for the mess."

Sophia waved her off. “Don’t worry. How about I take the boys to school today? That way, you two can clean up and maybe even get dressed properly.”

Lucy and Ona exchanged a look of gratitude.

“That would be perfect,” Lucy said sincerely. “Thank you, Soph.”

“You always know how to make our life easier,” Ona added.

Sophia chuckled, brushing off their thanks. “Oh, and happy birthday, Lucy. I’ll bring your present tomorrow.”

Lucas tugged on Sophia’s hand, already babbling about school to her as she let herself be pulled toward the hallway to help him with his shoes and jacket.

Meanwhile, Ona and Lucy scrambled to pack the boys’ backpacks, just as Oliver reappeared downstairs, his hair still a mess.

"Did you remember to brush your teeth, Ollie?" Lucy asked, pulling a comb and hair gel from the cabinet.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded earnestly.

“Good job,” Lucy said, pulling out a chair and patting the seat. "Now, come here. Let me fix that hair."

Oliver groaned but obediently climbed onto the chair, resigned to his fate.

…

As the front door clicked shut behind Sophia and the boys, a rare silence fell over the house.

“So,” Lucy said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “We’ve got about thirty minutes.”

“And I already cleaned the table and the kitchen,” Ona replied, gesturing toward the spotless room.

Lucy’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Think we can squeeze in a shower together?"

Ona’s grin mirrored her wife’s. "I was hoping you’d say that."

Together, they headed up the stairs. They’d barely made it to their room when the unmistakable ring of a phone broke the mood.

"Yours or mine?" Lucy asked, frowning, glancing at Ona.

"No idea. I’ll check, it might be Sophia."

Ona walked back to the kitchen and picked up Lucy’s phone. A moment later, she returned with a sheepish look. “It’s your mom.” She silently spoke.

Lucy groaned but took the phone, mouthing a silent apology before answering.

…

"Yes, Mum," Lucy said for the tenth time, pacing the room. “I’ll be there for pickup at exactly four fifteen.”

Her gaze darted to the bathroom where Ona was already in the shower. "No, no, mum, she can’t come with us. She has to—" Lucy’s words faltered as Ona turned, soaping her chest with deliberate slowness. "Yes, she has to pick up the boys.”

"Yes, yes, they’re fine. We called yesterday, remember? They’re really loving school," she continued distractedly.

Finally, Lucy sighed. "Mum, I’ve got to go. Love you too. Yes, bye. Bye." She hung up, letting out an exasperated breath.

“Fucking finally,” she muttered, tossing her phone onto the bed. Without wasting another second, she stripped off her t-shirt and boxers, let her hair tumble free from its elastic, and placed her new watch carefully on the sink counter.

“There you are,” Ona teased from under the spray of the shower.

Lucy stepped inside, turning on her side of the water. "Guess it’s gonna be tonight, huh? Five minutes won’t cut it and I don’t want to be hot and bothered all day."

Ona chuckled. "Tonight, I promise. We’ll make up for it."

Lucy smiled softly. "I love you, babe. Loved that you tried, though.’’ She laughed, ‘’the kids will get older eventually. At my 50th birthday, maybe we’ll finally-"

"Don’t talk about that," Ona interrupted, leaning in to kiss her. "They’re growing fast enough as it is."

"True," Lucy replied, her tone lighter. "But I won’t miss the bed-wetting phase."

“He’ll be fully potty-trained soon,” Ona reassured her.

"Yeah, he’s doing so well," Lucy said, her voice soft with emotion. A sudden wave of sentiment welled up in her, and she shook her head with a small laugh. "Ugh, birthday emotions. Damn, they’ve come early this year."

Ona kissed her forehead with a quiet chuckle. "I think it’s sweet."

Lucy wrapped her arms around her wife, pulling her close. "I just... I love how everything’s turned out. I could’ve never imagined meeting the love of my life that random summer day in London. But when you walked into my gym, I knew you were special."

“You always say that,” Ona said, resting her head against Lucy’s chest. "But I wasn’t exactly kind to you at first."

"Yeah, but you also told me I was fit, didn’t you?"

Ona laughed softly. "Physically, sure. I thought you were incredible. But I also thought you were a little annoying."

Lucy smirked. "And I thought you were a stuck-up bitch."

Ona laughed harder, her voice vibrating against Lucy. "Oh, how I love it when you bring up those first memories."

"Well, those are only the very first ones," Lucy quipped. "I tamed you pretty quickly, didn’t I?"

Ona gasped, feigning offense as she tilted her head back to look at Lucy. "Tamed!?"

Lucy grinned, running her fingers through Ona’s wet hair. "Oh, I don’t know. I think I worked my magic pretty fast."

"Magic" Ona scoffed, her cheeks flushing under the warm spray. "You just blackmailed me with sex."

"Sure, sure," Lucy teased, leaning in to press a kiss against Ona's lips. "But it worked so well that you ended up falling for me.’’

Ona rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. "Good sex is one thing, being amazing is another. I fell in love with all of Lucy Bronze, not just the physical bits."

"Mm-hmm," Lucy said, pulling her closer. "And look at us now. Two kids, a little doggie, all our friends and family, I wouldn’t trade my life for anything."

Ona softened, brushing her thumb over Lucy’s cheek. "Neither would I. You’ve made me happier than I ever thought possible."

Lucy leaned in again, their foreheads touching as the moment stretched out between them. The sound of water filled the silence.

Then the faint rumble of a car pulling up broke their moment. Lucy sighed, leaning her head against Ona’s shoulder.

"She’s back, isn’t she?" Lucy muttered, her tone half-annoyed.

"That’s Sophia for you," Ona replied, giving Lucy a quick kiss before turning off her side of the shower. "She’s quick."

…

Barcelona Airport – 16:17

Lucy stood near the arrivals gate, scanning the small crowd of passengers coming through one by one.

After a few more minutes, her parents appeared together. Her mom with her neatly trimmed bob and her dad with his jacket casually draped over one arm. It was very them, and in that moment, Lucy felt a rush of emotion for the second time this morning. She had missed them so much. She was so blessed her parents where still fit and able to come over to Spain for her birthday.

With a big smile she waved them over.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.”

“Lucy!” Diane beamed, quickening her step for a hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you in person. Happy birthday honey.”

´´Hi mom, missed you.´´ Lucy said, breathing in her mothers scent.

Joaquim followed close behind, pulling Lucy into an embrace after Diane had let her go. ´´Happy birthday Lucy.´´

“Thank you. Good to see you, Dad,” Lucy said, kissing him on the cheek, and taking their suitcase. “Come on, the car’s not far. Let’s get you two home.”

Minutes later Lucy had her parents settled in the car.

The highway stretched out in front of them as Lucy guided the car smoothly onto the open road. Diane sat in the front passenger seat, while Joaquim had settled in the back.

“How was the flight?” Lucy asked, glancing at her mom.

“Not bad,” Diane replied. “Well, I think it took long enough, but everything went smooth.’’

“Oh, it was fine,” Joaquim chimed in. “Taking off, blinking a couple of times, landing again. In twenty-thirty-two travelling is luckily very easy, and otherwise we would’ve never let you move here.” He added jokingly.

Lucy chuckled. “Well, I’m glad things where good, and now you’re here. The boys are going to be thrilled when they see you.”

“Can’t wait,” Joaquim said, leaning forward slightly. “They must’ve grown so much since last time we saw them.”

“They have,” Lucy said, smiling. “and Lucas is getting really chatty. He’s full of stories about school and what he’s learning. God, he has all these questions, I’m sure he will ask you guys many many questions too.’’ She chuckled at the thought.

‘’Adorable.’’ Diane smiled, looking at the road, ‘’and Ollie?’’

Lucy grinned, ‘’Oliver is still Oliver,´´ she shrugged, ´´he’s a smart boy, but he’s also getting a little cheeky.”

“Wonder where he gets that from,” Diane said, giving Lucy a knowing look.

“Definitely his grandparents,” Lucy replied dryly.

All three of them chuckled.

“So, how are the gyms going?” Diane asked after a couple minutes of silence, shifting in her seat to look at Lucy properly.

“Really well,” Lucy said. “We’ve had steady growth, and I’ve added a couple more trainers to the team. It’s been busy, but a good kind of busy.”

“That’s fantastic, love. You’ve worked so hard for it,” Diane said warmly. “And how’s Ona handling everything?”

“She’s good,” Lucy said. “Her schedule’s always a bit hectic, but it’s much more manageable now that she is outsourcing things more and more. Last month she’s actually been home a lot more, which is nice.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Joaquim said. “It sounds like things are good.”

“Honestly, I feel so blessed,” Lucy admitted. “I had never imagined my life turning out so perfect.” She looked over at her mom for a second, ‘’mom, had you ever thought?’’ She looked at her dad in rear view mirror, ‘’dad?’’ She looked back at the road, ‘’sometimes I cant even believe that its all real.’’

Her mom smiled, laying her hand on Lucy’s thigh. ‘’its real darling, and you deserve it.’’

Her dad laid his hand on her shoulder, gently squeezing, ‘’and we’re proud of you.’’

A comfortable silence fell. They where halfway through the drive, with about twenty five minutes left until they’d reach the house.

As the drive continued, Lucy glanced at her mom. “So, I was thinking for tonight… instead of going out to a restaurant, we could just order something in and eat at home. You’re probably tired after the flight, and this way we can actually relax and catch up properly.”

“Mhm sure, that sounds perfect,” Diane said without hesitation.

“Great,” Lucy said, relieved. “I’ll make sure we get something good.”

She hesitated briefly before adding, “Oh, and one more thing—the boys were wondering if they could stay with you in the guesthouse tonight, because they missed you two so much, but no pressure. It’s totally up to you.”

Diane’s face softened. “Oh, I’d love that. Wouldn’t you, Joaquim?”

“Of course,” he said. “I have earplugs in my toiletry bag, so if they’re as chatty as you said I’ll still be fine.”

“Good,” Lucy said, laughing. “But seriously, if it’s too much after traveling, don’t worry about it. They’ll be fine in the main house.”

“No, it’ll be lovely,” Diane insisted. “We’ll figure it out when we see them.”

“Perfect,” Lucy said

…

Lucy and Ona’s villa – 17:24

As Lucy turned onto the driveway, she noticed all the cars neatly parked in their spots. She had expected it, but the sight confirmed it—Ona and the boys were home. Earlier that afternoon, she had arranged the cars with tomorrow’s party in mind, leaving plenty of space for guests.

The party would be held inside. Even in Catalunya, October evenings could be chilly, especially for a gathering that would go late into the night. Tomorrow was the big celebration, the main thing was a cozy dinner with their friends and family to mark Lucy’s 41st birthday.

Most of the preparations had been completed earlier that day, much to Lucy’s relief. Tonight, they could just relax and catch up with her parents. The only thing left was the arrival of the caterers in the morning with the cake, food, snacks, and drinks. But for now, everything was ready.

As Lucy stepped out of the car, the villa’s front door opened. A little boy came sprinting toward them in his socks, while a slightly bigger boy lingered in the doorway, peeking shyly from behind his mama.

“Nana!” Lucas called out excitedly, his voice carrying across the driveway. “Grandpa!”

Lucy smiled, her heart swelling at the sight of her youngest. His joy was so bright it could melt anyone’s heart. Behind him, Oliver gave a small wave but didn’t step forward, still half-hidden behind Ona’s leg.

“Ahh, look at you.” Diane said warmly, leaning down to catch Lucas as he barreled into her arms.

Joaquim stepped out of the back seat, his face lighting up at the sight of his grandson. “Well, do I get a hug too?” he teased, earning a giggle from Lucas, who darted over to him for an embrace.

In the doorway, Ona gave Lucy a soft smile, holding Oliver’s hand as she whispered something to him.

After a moment, Oliver finally stepped out, timidly making his way over to Lucy.

“Come here, Ollie,” Lucy said gently, smiling as she crouched down with her arms open. Her eldest was so different from his brother, he could be very shy.

Oliver walked over, arms out, and Lucy scooped him onto her hip. “Do you remember Grandma and Grandpa?” she asked, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Oliver’s gaze stayed fixed on Lucas, who was eagerly chatting with his grandparents, recounting something that had happened at school.

“Grandma and Grandpa from England,” Lucy added softly. “They’re my mom and dad.”

That made Oliver look up at her with a silly smile. “I know that, Mom,” he said with a hint of sass, and Lucy swore she caught the beginnings of an eye roll.

“Okay, okay,” she chuckled. “Well, why are you so shy, then?”

Oliver shrugged, staying quiet for a moment, “Did they go on a plane?”

Lucy laughed. “Mhm, they did.” She carefully set him back down. “Why don’t you ask them how the flight was?”

Oliver turned and pressed his face against her legs, clinging tightly.

“Okay, you don’t have to,” Lucy said with a soft laugh. “Here, help me with the suitcase instead. Can you open the trunk?”

…

Lucy and Ona’s villa – 18:58

After catching up over drinks on the couch and deciding what everyone wanted for dinner, they placed their order. It would arrive around 19:30, leaving them with some time to settle Diane and Joaquim into the guesthouse. The small house on the property was perfect for family visits, with two rooms. The room they had made ready was the one with a double bed and a pull-out couch.

After everyone put their shoes on Lucy led the way to the guesthouse, pulling the big suitcase. Lucas ran ahead, with Oliver trailing close behind, clearly excited about staying with their grandparents. By now Oliver had warmed up to his grandparents, it always took just a bit of time.

Inside, Diane and Joaquim got to unpacking their suitcase. Joaquim had already hung up a few shirts, while Diane set their toiletries in the bathroom. They where staying over for a week.

“You’ve got everything you need here,” Lucy said, pointing at a stack of fresh towels in the cabin. “But extra towels or blankets for if it gets chilly, are in the closet in the livingroom, I’ve put the heat on now, in the evening it automatically goes down, tomorrow morning it goes up again.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Diane said, giving Lucy a warm smile. “This place is so lovely, its always a joy to stay over.”

Lucy glanced at the pull-out couch in the room, where Ona was helping Lucas tug off the cushions. “Let’s get this ready for you boys,” she said, stepping in to help.

Lucas and Oliver hovered nearby, clearly more interested in jumping on the pillows than helping. “I want this side.” Lucas declared, pointing to the end closest to the nightstand.

Oliver crossed his arms. “That’s where I was gonna sleep!”

“Boys,” Lucy said with a silent chuckle, thinking back to her own childhood, kneeling down to pull the couch into a bed. “If you want this to work, you’re going to have to figure it out. Otherwise, no one sleeps here.”

´´I´m the oldest,´´ Oliver said, challenging Lucas.

“Fine,” Lucas said quickly, backing down as he glanced at his moms. “You can have it, but when I am older I can choose too.”

Oliver smirked, ´´yes´´.

“Unbelievable,” Ona murmured with a smile, helping Lucy spread out the fitted sheet.

The boys’ excitement was contagious, their chatter filling the room. “Mom, remember when we all had to share a bed at a hotel?” Lucas asked.

“I do,” Lucy said, smoothing the top sheet. “It almost didn’t fit, you nearly kicked me off the bed.”

Lucas giggled. “That was Oliver, not me.”

“Right,” Lucy said with a smile, before turning slightly more serious, “Well, I hope you two will be on your best behaviour, otherwise mama and I will put you right back in your own rooms, grandma and grandpa had a long day, so they need good sleep tonight.´´

´´Ollie? Lucas?’’

The two boys looked up at her. ‘’Sí, prometido.’’

"Bé, bé, fills meus." Ona smiled warmly. "La mama està orgullosa de vosaltres."

‘’If they make the promise true, that is.’’ Lucy added semi-jokingly.

Diane smiled at the scene. “It’ll be fine, Lucy,” she assured her daughter.

“I know,” Lucy said, tucking in the corners of the blanket. “But just put Lucas down about half an hour before Oliver. So he will already be asleep, and Oliver won’t have to deal with him wiggling around.”

Diane nodded. “Mhm, we´ll put Lucas first.”

“Perfect,” Lucy said, stepping back to admire the made bed. “You two are going to have so much fun staying with nana and grandpa, right?”

“Síí, fiesta de pijamas!” Lucas said enthusiastically, hopping onto the pull out couch bed.

Oliver gave a more measured nod, but the small smile on his face showed he was just as excited.

…

Lucy and Ona’s villa – 21:04

After dinner, the family had moved from the dining table to the TV room for dessert.

This afternoon, Ona hadn’t been able to resist stopping at a bakery on the way back from school. Tomorrow there would be a proper birthday cake, but Ona had decided Lucy deserved something special on the day itself too. The boys had eagerly chosen a small chocolate cake, glossy with chocolate glaze and topped with a bright red cherry.

Lucy blew out the little gold candle Ona had placed on it. The boys cheered, urging their mom to make a wish.

Lucy glanced at her little family, and wished that things could stay this good forever. Smiling, she pressed a kiss to the side of Ona’s head before taking the knife Ona handed her.

Joaquim and Ona sipped glasses of wine, Diane enjoyed a cup of tea, and Lucy held a beer, even though it wasn’t exactly the temperature for it. The boys sat on little stools at the coffee table to minimize the chances of a chocolate catastrophe, while Lucy’s parents had settled into armchairs. Ona and Lucy had claimed the sofa, where Ona laid nestled against Lucy’s chest. Lucy had an arm draped around her wife, her other hand occasionally lifting her beer for a sip. One of Ona’s hands rested lightly on the inside of her knee.

Lucy felt happy, happy spending an evening with the people she loved most in the whole world. It was a perfect birthday.

The boys finished their cakes with sticky fingers and satisfied smiles. “Are we going to play a board game now?” Ollie asked hopefully, his eyes lighting up as Lucas immediately chimed in with enthusiasm.

“Oh, no, no,” Ona and Lucy said in unison, both chuckling.

“It’s way too late for that,” Lucy added. “We have to brush our teeth and get into our pajamas,” she said lazily, making no effort to follow through getting up from the couch.

The boys groaned in unison, dragging out the whines for effect.

Ona smiled amuzed at her wife, but to be honest she didn’t really feel like getting up either. “You two, first go in the kitchen to wash your hands, then go upstairs, put on your pajamas, and bring your toothbrushes down with you. Let’s go. Chop, chop.”

Lucas tilted his head in confusion, looking at Lucy. “My pj is in the laundry,” he said. “I need a new one..”

Lucy sighed, raising her beer for one last sip before setting it down. “He’s right,” she said.

Ona dropped her head with an exaggerated groan, she was just getting comfy. “Okay, okay. I’ll come up in a second, I’ll help,” she said, waving the boys toward the stairs. “You two go ahead. I’ll get it for you Lucas.”

Reluctantly, the boys shuffled off, Lucas muttering something incohearant while Oliver took his sweet time following behind, first stacking all the little plates.

‘’We’ll help em.’’ Diane said, chuckling at the two moms who where gathering courage to stand up.

‘’We?’’ Joaquim asked surprised.

‘’Or just me, if you don’t want to’’ Diane nonchalantly said, standing up. ‘’Come on, it will be fun. Nostalgic.’’

‘’Mom, you don’t need to.’’ Lucy said, ‘’Ona and I will do it, they’re-

‘’No, no, none of that.’’ Lucy’s mom said, holding a hand out for her husband, ‘’we hardly get to see them.’’

‘’Well, okay.’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’if you need help just call down.’’

‘’Raising you prepared us well enough,’’ Joaquim joked, ‘’we will manage.’’

The two grandparents disapeared to the hall.

Ona nestled herself further against Lucy. ‘’hmm, maybe your parents can come over more often.’’

Lucy chuckled, kissing the top of Ona’s head. ‘’I hope they make a good night.’’

‘’They will,’’ Ona leaned back slightly, facing Lucy.

‘’Mmm,’’ Lucy licked her lips, ‘´I really hope so.’’

Ona leaned in pecking a soft kiss to Lucy’s lips.

Lucy answered the kiss, her hand coming up to cup Ona’s head.

‘’it was a nice surprise,’’ Lucy said breaking the kiss, ‘’the desert.’’

‘’Yeah, couldn’t resist.’’ Ona chuckled, ‘´I let the boys choose because I know they have the same taste u have.’’

‘’Mhmm, love me a chocolate cake.’’ She took Ona’s hand, her thumb tracing the weddingring there, ‘’this reminds me of this morning,’’ she looked up at Ona, ‘’d’you know what Lucas said?’’ she smiled, ‘’did you hear it? It was while you where making breakfast.’’

‘’No.’’ Ona laughed, suspecting something funny, ‘’what did he say?’’

‘’It was so cute, he was whispering to me like it was a secret,’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’Yo amo a mamá.’’ She reenacted her sons whisper.

Ona smiled, ‘’why did he say that?’’

‘’Oh it was when I was acting I was going to eat him, then he said I didn’t have to do that, because mama was making breakfast.’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’then I said, yes mama is the best, isnt she? And then he was silent for a bit, like really thinking, I saw the gears grinding in his little head and then he said ’yo amo a mamá,’´ she chuckled, ´´I love these ages so much,’’ She said to Ona, ‘’now that they’re really thinking about stuff.’’

‘’Yeah its cute,’’ Ona smiled, ‘’and I love how you talk about me to the kids.’’

Lucy smiled, ‘’ofcourse, oh and you want to hear something else that was funny, Oliver is showing Nela video’s of womens football to try and get her to play with him.’’

‘’Really?’’ Ona chuckled, ‘´Les dejamos ver demasiados dibujos.’’ (we let them watch to many cartoons)

‘’Ah it’s just children's fantasy, he will grow out of it, for now im happy he lives in a world where that is his biggest mision,’’ Lucy smiled, pulling her wife closer against her again.

…

Lucy and Ona’s villa – 21:48

“Grandpa took his teeth out!” Oliver came running toward the couch, his face lit up with wonder and excitement. Lucy quickly set Ona’s glass aside for her.

“His teeth?” Ona asked, chuckling.

Oliver scrambled up onto the couch and into his moms’ laps, giggling. “Grandpa took his teeth out, tiene dientes de mentira.”

Lucy laughed, wrapping her arms around her oldest son in a bear hug. “Did everything go well up there? Is everyone alright?”

“Yeah,” Oliver said casually. “I came down because I’ve seen his drawings a thousand times.”

“Lucas is showing his drawings?” Ona asked, turning herself towards Lucy and their son.

“Yup.” Oliver blinked sleepily as Ona smoothed a hand over his hair. “Can Nela sleep over in the house too?”

Hearing her name, the dog wandered over.

“Hmm, we’ll ask Grandma and Grandpa,” Ona said, leaning in to kiss Oliver’s forehead. “But if they’d rather not, Nela will just sleep in her own bed.”

Oliver smiled, “but if they say yes, he can come?”

“She,” Lucy corrected gently, “and yes, if they agree, then it’s okay.”

“Are you coming to sleep at the house too?” Oliver asked, fiddling with Ona’s necklace. “and Mom?”

“No,” Lucy replied, brushing back a strand of his hair. “It’s just for you, Lucas, Grandma, and Grandpa, it´s a special sleepover.”

“And Canela.”

“Maybe Canela,” Ona said with a soft smile. “If they don’t mind.”

“Don’t mind?” Oliver asked, tilting his head.

“If they agree,” Lucy explained.

“I’ll go ask!” Oliver said, suddenly trying to wriggle free from Lucy’s arms.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Lucy said, holding onto him.

Oliver stilled, turning to look at her, questioning.

“Let’s wait until they’re back down,” Lucy said calmly.

“Mom will ask, okay?” Ona added. “Or Mama.”

The boy let out a dramatic huff but nodded. “Okay.’’ He wiggled again. ‘’But let me go.”

“What are you going to do?” Lucy asked, tilting her head at him.

“Pet Nela,” Oliver declared.

‘’Mkay.’’ Lucy smiled, letting him go.

Ollie slid off the couch and padded over to the patiently waiting dog.

…

Guesthouse – 22:36

The dog, of course, was allowed to stay at the guesthouse too, as grandma could never say no to her grandson. Lucy and Ona had walked along to the guesthouse to make sure the boys settled in comfortably. Oliver had brought a card game, and Lucas had chosen a book he wanted to be read from.

Lucy had made sure to leave the iPad in the livingroom of the guesthouse, reminding Oliver that if he woke up early, he could use it in the living room without waking Lucas or his grandparents. It was something they aggreed with him, after Oliver had spent a full week climbing into their bed at the crack of dawn because ‘he couldn’t sleep anymore’.

They had all gathered around the pull-out couch as Diane read the book aloud. It had originally been just for Lucas, but Ollie had climbed into bed too, at Ona’s suggestion. As expected, both boys had quickly drifted off.

After a short chat with Joaquim and Diane, who were just as tired and planned to read a little before heading to bed, Ona and Lucy made their way back to the main house. Lucy had reassured her parents multiple times that they should call or come by if anything was wrong.

The cold air greeted them as they stepped outside, and Lucy instinctively wrapped an arm around her wife. She pulled Ona close, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Love you,” she murmured softly.

Ona chuckled. “Mmm, are you about to get all romantic on me?”

Lucy smirked and moved behind Ona, draping herself over her as they walked. She rested her chin in the crook of Ona’s neck. “Mhm. Gonna put on some music...” she whispered, placing a kiss on Ona’s neck. “Turn on the nice lighting...” another kiss followed. “Maybe we’ll even dance a little...” she murmered, holding Ona’s hip and tugging her a bit closer.

Ona giggled, her wife’s antics could still make her feel giddy like the first times they where together.

‘’Come.’’ Lucy said, placing one last kiss to the side of Ona’s face before stepping besides her again, jokingly slapping her ass a couple of times. ‘’lets get inside.’’ 

…

As promised Lucy had put some music on. Her and Ona held eachother while the soft sounds of a romantic song filled their bedroom.

Lucy’s hands rested low on Ona’s hips, fingers tracing paterns softly. She dipped her head, brushing her lips against Ona’s ear. “Pick up where we left off this morning?” Lucy murmured.

Ona smiled, tilting her head to meet Lucy’s gaze. “I’ve actually been thinking about something.”

“Oh yeah?’’ Lucy raised an eyebrow, a cheeky smile forming on her lips. ‘’What’s on your mind?” She asked, thinking maybe Ona had fantasized about a new position or something.

“Do you remember what you said in the shower?” Ona asked, her voice sly, wearing a small smirk on her lips. “About how you won me over with good sex?”

Lucy grinned, a low chuckle escaping her. “Mhm, I remember our fun little hate dynamic thing we had going on back then.”

Ona rolled her eyes with a soft laugh. “It wasn’t hate, but sure,” she said lightly. “Anyway, for some reason I was thinking back about that one night, when you shoved that blouse in my mouth.” She paused, watching Lucy’s eyes darken. “Remember? when u did those makeshift cuffs from your belt... that night was...  something else.’’

‘’Mhm, I remember.’’ Lucy nodded, biting her lip. She observerd Ona attentively, questioning where Ona was going with this.

Ona played with the collar of Lucy’s shirt, ‘’What was it, like eight years ago?”

Lucy leaned back slightly, mock offense on her face, “are you really saying I haven’t done anything like that since?”

Ona laughed, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on Lucy’s chest. “You still bring it sometimes, don’t get me wrong,” she said, her tone teasing. “But I’m talking about that energy you had back then” She pressed closer, her lips brushing under Lucy’s jaw. “Especially like that night” her voice dropped slightly, her breath felt warm against Lucy’s skin. “That was a good night.” She pressed a kiss there, then another lower. “And I love how sweet you are to me now,” another kiss, slower this time, “but I’ve just been thinking about it a little bit today.”

Lucy huffed a small laugh, her hands sliding down Ona’s back. “I like making love to you better now. You’re my wife.” Pulling Ona closer with her hands on her ass.

“I can rile you up,” Ona whispered, her hands slipping under Lucy’s shirt, nails dragging lightly along her skin.

Lucy smirked, tilting her head to look down at Ona. “Oh yeah? How will you rile me up?” Her tone was playful, “You can cook now. You gave birth to our beautiful kids. You’re perfect.”

Ona rolled her eyes and leaned in close to Lucy. "Maybe I'll reveal what more I bought you for your birthday." She whispered.

Lucy chuckled, her hands sliding up Ona's sides before resting on her hips. "Ona," she murmured, her lips brushing over her wife's jawline, "let me just make you feel good, baby."

Ona tilted her head, her smirk teasing as her fingers toyed with the hem of Lucy’s shirt. She hooked her fingers behind Lucy’s belt, tugging her closer. "Or," she purred, drawing the word out, "maybe you won’t be so shocked anymore… because you’ve become just as much of a snob as I am?"

Lucy raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. Without a word, she gripped Ona’s thighs and lifted her, pressing her firmly against the wall. The gasp Ona let out went into a breathless laugh.

"Oh you’re really after it, aren’t you, ma’am?" Lucy chuckled.

Ona’s mouth opened, ready to talk back, but Lucy didn’t give her the chance. Their lips crashed together in an urgent kiss, their tongues fighting for dominance as their hands moved hurriedly.

Fingers tugged at shirts, plucked at buttons, peeled away fabric until they stood naked, except for the jewelry they had on.

Lucy guided them to the bed, their lips never breaking apart while she lowered Ona gently onto the mattress.

Ona grinned against Lucy’s mouth, her voice sounded breathy as her hands roamed Lucy’s lower back. “There she is,” she murmured teasingly. “There’s my woman.”

Lucy hummed, her lips grazing the curve of Ona’s neck. “Oh, I was here all along, baby,” she whispered. “But keep talking, I love it when you try to be a brat.” She shifted back onto her knees, pulling Ona’s thighs over her hips as her hands began to trace the length of her wife’s legs.

Her gaze was locked on Ona’s face, taking in the flush that colored her skin.

After a moment Lucy shifted again. She leaned down, pressing slow kisses along Ona’s thigh, taking her time. Her lips lingered, her warm breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. "Still want to drag this out?" Lucy murmured, her voice sounding teasing as she reached the sensitive dip below Ona’s hipbone.

Ona arched slightly, her breathing uneven. "Yes," she whispered, but her tone betrayed her anticipation, the need building in her voice.

Lucy chuckled, the sound low and throaty, as her fingers slid along Ona’s sides, her touch was featherlight. She loved the effect she had on her wife.

Her hands gripped Ona’s hips, holding her down as she kissed her way lower. "You’re so perfect," Lucy murmured between kisses.

She leaned back for a moment, just to admire her. Watching the way her chest rose and fell, the want in her gaze. "I could look at you like this forever."

Ona bit on her finger, a soft chuckle escaping her. "Babe," she teased, her voice was playful but a little unsteady. "You’re getting soppy again."

Lucy tilted her head, grinning as she leaned in to press a kiss to Ona’s collarbone. "What, I can’t compliment my wife now?" she teased acting mock-offended. She paused, hovering over Ona with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Don’t you think I decide that?"

Ona’s fingers tangled in Lucy’s hair, tugging her closer, guiding her toward her chest. "Please, Luce decide whatever you want, but just fuck me," she said impatiently.

‘’I don’t understand baby.’’ Lucy smirked, her hands pinning Ona’s wrists above her head as she hovered over her again. ‘’You’re saying one thing and doing another?" she mused, ‘’do you want me to take controle or not?’’

"Luce," Ona groaned, squirming under her. "Do me."

Lucy bit her lip and shook her head amused. She kissed her way down Ona’s body again, teasingly slow.

Ona’s breath hitched as Lucy’s soft lips reached her stomach.

"Relax, baby," Lucy murmured against her skin, the warmth of her breath sending shivers along Ona’s spine. ‘’I’ll give you what you want.’’

Ona whimpered when Lucy finally dipped lower, her kisses moving to the inside of her thighs. Her thighs parted instinctively, her body was buzzing with anticipation.

Lucy’s tongue teased her, drawing a shaky gasp from Ona’s lips.

"Lucy," Ona whimpered, her fingers twisting in the sheets.

Lucy pulled back slightly. Ona saw her lips glistening as she smirked.

"Always taste so good," she murmured before diving back in, her hands gripping Ona’s thighs to keep her steady.

Ona writhed beneath her, unable to keep still as Lucy ate her pussy in a way that had never faltered in all their years together. She let her body relax on the matress, giving in to the pleasure.

After a few moments Ona’s breathing changed, telling Lucy she was close.

"Not yet," Lucy whispered. She kissed her way back up with open-mouthed kisses until she reached Ona’s neck. Her hands were everywhere. On Ona’s hips, her ribs, sliding along her sides, Lucy just wanted to feel her.

"Lucy," Ona tried, but her voice broke into a whimper as Lucy pressed a kiss just above her collarbone, her teeth grazing the skin lightly. She wanted to mark her wife. "Not in my neck," Ona managed to breathe out, shivering. Having just enough clarity to think about tomorrow’s party. "Luce-"

Lucy obeyed wordlessly, kissing down until her lips found a spot just below Ona’s nipple to mark instead, leaving a dark bruise behind.

She pulled back to admire her work, her gaze flicking up to meet Ona’s flushed face. "Perfect," she said softly.

Lucy placed a couple of soft kisses up to Ona’s face before pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. There was a beat of silence, charged with something unspoken as Lucy leaned in. They kissed, Lucy’s thigh pressing instinctively between Ona’s legs.

Ona hummed in response, her fingers digging into Lucy’s shoulders.

Breaking the kiss just enough to speak, Ona’s breath brushed over Lucy’s lips. “Your cock es lo único en lo que he pensado today.” she murmured, her tone sounding both begging and commanding. Her hands slid up, resting against Lucy’s chest as she pushed urging her to move. “I need you, Luce. Please, put it on for me.”

Lucy pulled back. “Need me?” she repeated. Her hands wandered down Ona’s sides, a deliberate slowness that made Ona squirm. “You’re being a little impatient, mamas.” She smirked.

Despite her teasing, Lucy shifted off the bed, the grin still on her face as she walked to the dresser. Ona propped herself up on her elbows, watching Lucy rummage through the drawer.

When Lucy turned back with the strap and lube in hand Ona’s breath hitched, her thighs pressing together. God, she had been waiting for this all day.

Lucy caught Ona’s gaze, she raised her eyebrow as she strapped the harness around her hips, tightening it with practiced ease. She smugly let Ona watch her. She knew she was good at sex, but especially wearing the strap always give her this special feeling. The way Ona gave herself to her.   

“Careful,” Lucy teased. “You’re drooling.”

Ona blush darkened but she didn’t look away, her eyes stayed glued to Lucy as she watched her coat the strap in lube. It was hot seeing Lucy run the thick rubber strap through her hands.

At the edge of the bed, Lucy grabbed Ona by her thighs, tugging her forward until she was perched right at the edge. Ona giggled softly, this was exactly the attitude she had been looking for.

“Luce…” Ona’s voice was barely a whisper now, thick with anticipation, her fingers digging in the bedspread.

Lucy cupped Ona’s cheek for a brief moment, before letting her thumb run over Ona’s bottom lip. Ona opened her mouth and let Lucy slip two fingers in. Ona made eyecontact with Lucy as she sucked on the digits before circling them with her tongue.

When Lucy was pleased with Ona’s work she let her fingers trail down, leaving a trail of Ona’s saliva behind before slipping between her legs.

As Lucy's fingers brushed against Ona’s heat, a smirk tugged at her lips. Their eyes stayed locked, and Ona knew exactly what that smirk meant. Lucy didn’t have to say a word, Ona could hear it in her head. But still her cheeks flushed deeper, because she was really wet and they both knew Lucy was the reason.

Lucy curled two fingers inside, drawing a groan from Ona.

“Mhm, I know, baby,” Lucy murmured. She leaned on her elbow planted on the bed next to Ona’s shoulder, her hand below Ona’s neck. She liked being close to Ona like this.

When Ona’s hips began to buck against her hand, Lucy pulled back. “So greedy,” she chuckled, reaching down to guide the strap to Ona’s entrance. ‘’I’ll give you more don’t worry.’’

Lucy pushed the strap in slowly, watching the way Ona’s lips parted.

Ona’s head fell back as she adjusted to the stretch. This was her favourite strap, it was a bit softer then their other straps.

‘’Mh fuck,’’ Ona breathed as Lucy started moving, she reached to cup her own chest.

“There we go,” Lucy muttered, “always so good for me.”

Lucy’s hips thrusted setting a steady rhythm. The wet sounds and the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin blended with the soft music playing in the background, joined by Ona’s moans, and the praises Lucy murmured between thrusts.

Ona’s body arched into her, her legs trembling as Lucy’s hands gripped her thighs.

Lucy shifted, lifting Ona’s legs over her shoulders. She wanted more, she wanted to fill Ona deeper.

"You feel so good," Lucy whispered, gripping Ona’s hips, leaning into Ona so her calves where flush against her chest.

Ona moaned as the new angle made Lucy hit that sweet spot again and again, her nails dug into the back of her own thighs. "More," Ona pleaded.

Lucy obliged, gripping Ona's waist to pull her closer as she sank the strap into her all the way to the base with every thrust.

Ona’s moans turned into broken whines as she teetered on the edge of release.

"That’s it," Lucy whispered, her voice hoarse from effort. "Let it go baby."

Ona came with a shuddering gasp, her body clenching around the strap.

Lucy slowed, helping Ona ride out her orgasm.

"Fucking beautiful," Lucy murmured, she let Ona’s legs down gently and leaned in, holding her close.

Lucy stayed there for a moment holding her hips still as she soothed Ona with gentle kisses until her breathing slowed.

She looked down at her wife with a satisfied smirk on her face. "You good, baby?"

Ona nodded, her eyes half-lidded.

Lucy’s lips brushed over Ona's damp skin, "I love you so much," she whispered.

All Ona could manage to let out was a hum.

After a moment, Lucy shifted, carefully pulling out. She reached down to unbuckle the harness, letting the strap fall to the floor with a thud and reached to the nightstand, putting off the music.

Her hands smoothed over Ona’s thighs.

Lucy smiled as Ona’s legs instinctively parted. She settled herself between her legs, pressing a kiss to the inside of one thigh before sliding her hands under Ona’s hips, lifting her slightly. Ona’s slickness glistened as it caught the dimmed light. Lucy felt a flutter between her own legs as she caught the smell of her wife. She leaned in, her tongue running up Ona’s sensitive folds, lapping up her essence.

Ona let out a soft, breathy moan, her hands moving to tangle in Lucy's hair. "Luce," she whimpered.

"Shh," Lucy whispered against her, her voice vibrating against Ona’s core. ‘’You can give me one more, baby.’’

Lucy’s tongue circled Ona’s clit. Ona’s body reacted instantly, her hips twitching as a whimper escaped her throat.

It wasn’t long before Ona’s breathing became quicker, her grip in Lucy’s hair tightening as her legs quivered.

Lucy groaned against her. She latched onto her clit, sucking down as her hands tightened their hold on Ona’s thighs, keeping her in place.

"L-Luce," Ona gasped, her voice cracking as her body arched off the bed.

Lucy continued, wanting to bring Ona over the edge again, she knew Ona could take it.

It didn’t take long before Ona’s body tensed, her thighs clamping around Lucy’s head as she let out a shuddering cry, her second release crashing through her.

Lucy slowed as Ona rode out the aftershocks.

When Ona finally relaxed, Lucy pulled back slightly, pressing soft kisses to Ona’s inner thighs before crawling back up to meet her face.

"That’s my girl," Lucy murmured. She kissed Ona’s forehead, then her nose, then her lips, her hands brushing back the hair from Ona’s face. Ona smiled sleepily.

Lucy carefully maneuvered them both to the middle of the bed, her hands cupping Ona’s face for a moment.

Ona was a sight, she was completely undone but she looked glowing. Lucy leaned down, nuzzling her nose against Ona.

Ona pulled Lucy in for a kiss. "Cuddles," she whispered needily.

Lucy smiled into the kiss, her arms wrapping around Ona. "Ofcourse," she whispered back. She pulled Ona close, feeling her warmth against her. Lucy kissed Ona’s temple before resting her head back on the pillow.

A comfortable quiet settled between them. Lucy’s hand found Ona’s, lacing their fingers together, holding her with a softness that was reserved only for her wife.

Ona’s head nestled against Lucy’s chest, as she recovered from her orgasms.

Lucy kissed the top of her head, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on Ona’s back.

"Can we just stay like this forever?" Ona mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. She laid comfortably with her cheek against Lucy’s warm skin.

Lucy smiled, her fingers brushing up and down Ona’s back. “Wouldn’t mind that,” she murmured before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of Ona’s head.

Ona’s hands began to wonder, tracing the lines along Lucy’s toned stomach. She shifted to kiss Lucy’s neck.

“You don’t have to, babe,” Lucy said quietly as Ona kissed down, now reaching her nipple. But her tone came out unconvincing as a shiver ran through her at Ona’s touch.

Ona didn’t reply. Instead she smiled and tilted her head up to press a kiss to Lucy’s lips, silencing any further protests.

Lucy relaxed beneath her as Ona trailed her lips down her jawline, then her neck, leaving a trail of kisses until she was at her hips. She guided Lucy’s legs apart, settling herself between them.

Lucy’s breath hitched when Ona’s lips brushed over a sensitive spot just below her hip, the featherlight touch sending a rush of heat through her.

Her fingers threaded through Ona’s hair, gathering it into a ponytail.

Ona glanced up meeting Lucy’s gaze. A blush colored Ona’s cheeks as she caught the look in Lucy’s eyes. Lucy could look at her so hungry but impossibly loving all at once. She loved that look, it always made her want to give Lucy everything she wanted.

She lowered herself again. After all these years she knew exactly what worked for Lucy. She knew Lucy’s body like her own.

With her tongue she sucked on Lucy’s clit as her fingers teased her entrance.

The hand in Ona’s hair tightened, silently urging her on.

Lucy spread her legs wider, giving Ona full access with her feet pressing flat against the mattress, knees falling open.

Lucy's soft groans filled the room, her chest rising and falling as pleasure coursed through her.

Ona’s free hand tightened on Lucy’s thigh as Lucy's body began to tense.

“Fuck, Ona” Lucy groaned, her voice cracking as her release washed over her. Her grip on Ona’s hair tightened as her body shuddered from coming undone.

Ona didn’t stop until Lucy gently urged her away. She kissed her way back up Lucy’s torso, lingering over every freckle and every curve of her wifes body until she reached her face.

Lucy cupped Ona’s cheek, pulling her into a slow kiss, their breaths mingling as they tasted themselves on eachothers tongue.

Settling back against the pillows, Lucy wrapped her arms around Ona, holding her close as their bodies relaxed in the afterglow.

They laid there quietly, looking in to eachothers eyes lovingly. God, Lucy felt still so in love with this women after all those years. Ona was the love of her life, every day she thanked the lucky stars that things had worked out like this.

..

After a couple of moments Lucy leaned over and pressed a kiss to Ona’s forehead before sliding out of bed. “Be right back, baby”

Ona watched her, one eyebrow raised. “where are you going?”

“Toilet,” Lucy said as she disappeared into the bathroom.

A minute later, Ona heard the sound of running water and rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand. “Are you running a bath?”

“Yeah,” Lucy called back, ‘’thought it could be a nice seal to this perfect day, or is it too late?’’

Ona nodded sleepily.

When Lucy came back after a moment, she walked over to the bed. “Do you want to have a bath with me?”

Ona groaned theatrically but swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m tired.”

Lucy laughed, ‘’do I need to carry you?’’

‘’No,’’ Ona chuckled as she walked towards their bathroom.

Lucy helped her into the warm water and climbed in after her, settling in between Ona and the tub so Ona could lean back against her.

Ona let out a long sigh as she relaxed her muscles.

“Good?” Lucy asked, her hands resting lightly on Ona’s thighs beneath the water.

“Mm-hmm,” Ona murmured. “Very good.”

“You’re very good,” Lucy joked, placing a kiss to Ona’s temple.

“What?” Ona chuckled, turning her head slightly to meet Lucy’s eyes.

Lucy gave a small shrug, brushing a damp strand of hair away from Ona’s face. “Just that I love you very much.”

Ona smiled, turning back to rest her head on Lucy’s shoulder. “I love you very much too.”

They sat quietly for a while, the only sound the splashing of water as one of them shifted slightly.

Eventually, Ona broke the silence.

“Did you have a good day?” she asked, her voice softer now.

Lucy pressed a kiss to the top of Ona’s head and smiled. “Yeah, it was perfect.’’ She hummed as she thought back, ‘’A great breakfast to start, the beautiful watch you gave me, that lunch Soph ordered’’ she smiled as she thought back to the kebabs they had, ‘’having my parents here for dinner, and a chocolate dessert that I’m still thinking about. The boys staying over at theirs is a nice little bonus.” She tilted her head slightly, her voice dropping playfully. “But my favorite part was definitely the second dessert.’’

Ona hummed. “so a good day, eventhough you helped setting up your own party for tomorrow?”

“Ofcourse,” Lucy said. “I loved doing that with you and Soph, you two have done the most anyways, you have been planning it for weeks.”

“You make it sound like I planned some big event. It’s just dinner with our friends and family.”

Lucy smiled and kissed the side of Ona’s head. “Mhm, you’re not making me talk to random people, that’s exactly my kind of party.”

Ona smiled. ‘’I know you love small and low-key.”

“Mhm, and to be loved is to be known,” Lucy said, her hands running softly up and down Ona’s arms. “I feel very loved.”

“I am happy you had a good day,” Ona said, letting her head tilt back against Lucy again, ‘’and my favourite thing was definetly the second desert too.’’

…

When the water cooled, they climbed out, drying off quickly. Ona grabbed Lucy’s pyjama from this morning off the chair and slipped it on.

‘’Hey,’’ Lucy said acting offended, coming out of the bathroom too, ‘’what am I supposed to wear then? Your pj doesn’t fit me.’’ She mocked.

‘’You have more pj’s then this one,’’ Ona said, rolling her eyes but quickly getting in to bed because she knew she was being cheeky. She just felt like wearing Lucy’s pj from time to time, and she knew deep down Lucy didn’t mind.

Lucy pulled on some other pajama pants and a t-shirt, before also stepping in to bed.

Back in bed, Ona nestled against Lucy, her leg sliding between Lucy’s as she got comfortable.

“Hey,” Lucy said softly, brushing her hand along Ona’s back. “Thanks for everything today.”

“You’ve already said that,” Ona mumbled, her voice sleepy.

“I know. Just wanted to say it again.”

Ona smiled against Lucy’s skin. “You’re very welcome, Luce.”

Lucy pressed a kiss to Ona´s damp hair, ´´Night, my love.´´

´´Somnia’m, amor.´´

They laid in comfortable silence and Lucy felt Ona’s breathing slowing as she started to drift off.

Lucy closed her eyes, letting the warmth of Ona’s body against hers lull her to sleep too.

[midnight-mourning]

*Taps mic* Heard y'all like Moon around here, you're in luck, this one's for you

massive, MASSIVE thank you to @lunarmoves for beta-reading this chapter!!

She put a lot of time and effort into making my BS readable for y'all and it's greatly appreciated <3 <3 <3

Shay also makes really good dca stuff (also sebastian solace but I know very little about the fish tbh) and you should check her out!

Also, happy 200k+!!! We're only 297k from truly becoming the 500k enemies to lovers slowburn of our dreams lmaoooo

But for real I apologize for such a delay with this one. If you'd like to hear my excuses/reasoning they're below the cut, or you can just go read the chapter whatever suits ya ^-^

Tag list (if you would like added please see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

CW: medical stuff & additionally a bit of unreality mentions

Okay going to try and keep this simple bc I've said parts of it before

So as most of you know, I've been sick for 3 months now

I've now been on two rounds of steroids, and currently on my third round of antibiotics, which are basically keep me fucntional, not improving

besides general discomfort and pain, my memory has been pretty shot at times, I will go through the day and barely remember what I did/what I'm doing/what I need to do

as someone who had brain fog caused by covid a few years ago, this was genuinely a scary experience because ultimately, this has been worse

i've felt out of control of my body, having times where I'm mid thought and then instantly lose it

this is not my normal, I usually pride myself on my memory, so losing it has been incredibly devastating and scary

this was not helped by the fact that the quick care I went to (THREE TIMES for this) basically kind of sort of tried to gaslight me into believing nothing could be done and that it's not an infection

so not only has this entire thing has gotten dragged out so much more, which makes me sad tbh, but I've also felt like I've been going crazy bc it felt like no one was believing me when i said I was sick and not getting any better (including friends, family, coworkers etc, though unintentional on their parts to be fair)

I feel like I've lost three months of my life and coming to terms with that has been, yeah

on top of all that, I'm still in school AND doing grad stuff, and while the school side of things has been okay (thank god), grad's had it's moments, won't get into it but have had multiple issues with my advisor that have been at times just really tough to deal with

Confused spirit got pushed to the back burner, because i quite literally at times could not think, and when it comes to this fic, where there's multiple ongoing plot threads, characterizations, lore, and so on to keep track of, it was just, impossible to me to even consider writing for it

having shorter stuff like promptober, the oneshots and such was great to keep me writing, and also still interact with everyone in the community, plus i had a lot of fun with them so that helped too

this is all to say that I do sincerly apologize for the delay, and at the very least I should've clearly communicated about there being a hiatus, when this all started I thought i'd be down for two weeks max, then as that time kept increasing I just kept putting it off and putting it off because i thought i was going to get better, and then I didn't

I do this for fun and for nothing else, fic writing isn't content (it's engaging with fandom) and i have to remind myself of that sometimes but given that I've been around in some capacity on and off I feel I should've said something in some regard

Having said all that, I'm doing okay now! Still sick, but as long as I'm on meds I'm functional, stuff is getting managable with grad, and hopefully have some fun things coming up irl! Point is, the last three months haven't been the best, but they've been alright, due in part to all the support you all have given me, so thank you for that, can't say it enough :)

Okay, I think that just about covers it, thank you for taking the time to read all of this if you did <3

[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship pt 10

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: FLUF, Smut!

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309.

This chapter is the FINAL chapter. I’ve loved creating this story with @cheekygirl2309. I’ve had so much fun and enjoyed reading all of the love and support for this story. 

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Written and edited fast-please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

The next few months were so amazing. Jensen was true to his word and invited Josh’s parents to every big event we had. I was grateful they came and felt like they were family. Jazzy was also so proud of her new last name. 

When we went to the school to change her name, she proudly announced she was an Ackles. The secretaries smiled and congratulated her. In public she would introduce Jensen as her daddy. Since our engagement and the adoption, social media had exploded with stories and pictures of all of us. 

Jensen and I officially went public and most of the fans were supportive. I did my best to tune out the negative and focus on the positive ones. It was hard at times, but I knew I had Jensen to help navigate me through it. 

Jensen and I talked about the wedding and we both agreed we wanted a small, intimate ceremony with just our children, close family and friends. Since Jensen officiated his wedding, Jensen reached out to Jeffery Dean Morgan to officiate ours. He was thrilled to do it. I was excited to meet him and his family. We had FaceTimed, but never met in person. 

Jensen and I also wanted to write our own vows. It took me by surprise when he mentioned it. I was nervous, because how do you really put into words how someone saved you when you thought you weren’t worth saving. I love Jensen, and I only hoped I could put it into words good enough to show him how much he means to me. 

Our wedding date was set, we were going to have a Spring wedding. Mid-April, at dusk, and hopefully under a tent. I of course told Jensen we needed a backup plan in the event of rain. “It’s Texas sweetheart, I don’t think it’s going to rain.” “Still, I’d like a backup plan.” I chuckled.

“Okay, how about we have it at The Allan House, right here in Austin? It has space inside and out. So if we have to move it inside we can still have it in the same place. The ceremony and reception can all be there.” He pulled it up on the computer and the photos were breathtaking. I smiled, “Jensen, it’s beautiful. Do you really think we can book it?”

“Absolutely, I know the owner, so I’ll give them a call.” I playfully rolled my eyes, “Of course you do.” Jensen laughed and called. When he got off the phone he smiled, “We’re all set, sweetheart. Are you ready to start planning our wedding?” 

I smiled and pulled him in my arms, “Yes, Jensen! I’m more than ready.”

*Time Jump 3 days before the Wedding*

“Jensen, I need to go with Gen and Nichole to pick up my dress. When is Jeff coming in again?” “He should be here today. His wife and the kids will be coming in tomorrow I believe. He’s going with me today to get fitted for his tux. I gave the tailor his measurements, so I hope it fits.” “Me too, Jens. Okay, I’ll be back later. I love you.” “I love you too, the kids are going with mom and dad for the afternoon, so when you get back they won’t be here.” 

I grabbed my stuff and nodded. As I got to the door I heard Jensen clear his throat. “Did you forget something, darlin’?” I turned on my heels and chuckled, “Nope.” I said, popping the “p” as I leaned in and kissed him goodbye. “How could I ever forget kissing you. It’s one of my favorite things to do.” 

Jensen chuckled, “Oh and what are some of your other favorite things to do?” I smirked, got really close to his lips again and said, “you”. Then kissed him again. He grabbed my hand as I tried to pull away, “Then what’s stopping you?” Jensen pulled me flush to his strong body and I felt his arousal straining against his jeans. 

“Baby I have an appointment at the dress shop. I don’t want to miss it, unless you want me to get married naked.” Jensen wiggled his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes and playfully hit his chest, “Jens, I’m not getting married naked. Sorry to disappoint you.” Jensen threw his head back and laughed. 

He kissed me again and we said our goodbyes. 

I arrived at the dress shop with a few minutes to spare. Gen and Nichole were waiting outside for me. They hugged me and we walked in. “Y/N! So happy to see you. Your dress is ready. Are you ready to try it on one last time?” I smiled and nodded. 

Gen and Nichole sat on the couches and waited for me. When I came around the corner both of them gasped and I saw tears in their eyes. Sally, the owner, walked behind me and fluffed the dress as I stood on the platform. “Okay, Y/N, one last touch.” She placed a veil on my head. I took a deep steady breath looking in the mirror. I looked over my shoulder at Nichole and Gen with tears in my eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Jensen isn’t going to know what hit him.” I stood there looking in the mirror and the realization hit me. I was about to get married to Jensen and I had nobody to walk me down the aisle. 

Tears started to fall. My mother had passed away not long after Josh, and my father left us when I was two. Nichole rushed to my side and pulled me close, “Shh, it’s okay sweetie. You have me, Gen, Jared and the kids.” “I know, and I love you all so much. I just don’t know how I’m going to walk down that aisle alone. My mom walked me to Josh.” 

She pulled me tight, “I can do it if you want me to.” I smiled, “I know, but I need you standing up there with me and making sure Jensen doesn’t pass out.” We all three laughed. Gen was by my side too, “Honey, you’re one of the strongest people I know. You can do this. Jensen, all of your babies and all of us are there with you and for you. You know Jared would walk you down the aisle if you wanted him to.” 

I nodded, “Yeah, he offered, but I don’t want to take him away from Jensen. He needs his brother by his side. Okay, enough of this crying. Let’s get me out of this gorgeous dress and you two into yours.”

I changed into my regular clothes, while Gen and Nichole got into their dresses. When they came out they were absolutely breathtaking. “You two are so beautiful.” Nichole squealed when she realized the dress had pockets, “Y/N! Look! It has pockets.” We all laughed, “Yep, I made sure they did, and so does mine.” 

With our dresses in hand we headed out to get some last minute things for the wedding. Gen was keeping my dress at her house so Jensen wouldn’t see it, and I already had the kids’ outfits for the wedding. The girls were wearing matching dresses and Zeppelin was wearing a tuxedo that matched Jensen’s.

Jensen and I selected Navy blue, white, and gold as our wedding colors. The main colors being blue and gold. My dress was white, and the back opened into a beautiful navy blue that ran the length of the dress, and around the top of the bodice was blue. The girls’ dresses were navy blue, with white flowers on the skirts. Jensen and Zeppelin were wearing navy blue tuxedos, and his groomsmen were wearing grey. 

As the day approached, my nerves were starting to get the better of me. I thought about my wedding with Josh and how I was so nervous before, I actually threw up in the bridal suite. I really hoped this one would be different.

*Wedding Day*

I woke up early, stretched and reached for Jensen out of habit. My heart faltered a little when my hand hit the empty bed. He stayed with Jared last night. We decided we wouldn’t see each other until the ceremony. I was so excited to see his reaction when he turned around and saw me at the other end of the aisle.

I got out of bed, showered and went downstairs to a note on the counter and an artificial rose. I knew that handwriting from anywhere, it was Jensen. I smiled because I knew he snuck in last night after I went to bed to leave this for me. 

I opened the note and smiled as I read it.

My love,

Today is the day we promise before our family and God to be together forever. The road that led us here was bumpy, but we got through it together. I can’t wait to see how beautiful you’re going to look in your dress. I know you’re going to take my breath away, like you have since the day I met you. I love you, darlin’, until that rose I left you dies. I’ll see you later, beautiful.

Love,

J

I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. I grabbed my phone and sent him a text.

Me: Thank you for my wonderful surprise this morning. I’ll love you until the rose dies too. 

Jensen: I’m glad you liked it. I love you so much baby.

Me: I love you too, handsome. I can’t wait to see you in your tux. You know what it does to me, and wait until your fans see it. They are gonna go feral. 😘 🤤

Jensen: Ha! They go feral over everything.

Me: Of course they do, have you seen you?!

Jensen: Every single day in the shower. 😉

Me: Oh you’re so mean. Now I can’t stop thinking about you naked.

Jensen: Then mission accomplished. 😂 

Me: Okay, Mr. Ackles, you’re going to pay. 

Jensen: Ooo how?

Me: *1 image sent* this is what I’m wearing under my dress

Jensen: Damn baby. Now that’s mean. I can’t wait to take that off of you. 

Me: Patience my love. Just think the whole time I’m standing next to you, dancing, we’re walking around, that is what is under my dress. Just waiting for you.

Jensen growled and adjusted his pants when he read what I wrote. 

Jensen: You’re killing me.

Me: Oops, sorry baby. 😘 I love you, I need to get ready to leave or Gen and Nichole are going to drag me out of here. 

Jensen: Yeah, Jared is banging on the door. I love you too baby. See you soon.

Gen, Nichole and I arrived at the Allan House to get ready for the wedding. Jensen’s mom had the kids, and Josh’s parents were there to help with them too. My hair and makeup was done. I wore my hair half up and half down, with ringlets cascading over my shoulders. 

Jensen was across the property in the groom’s suite when there was a knock at the door. Jared opened it and saw Bill. “May I come in?” Jared stepped to the side. Jensen was in his tux and turned to shake Bill’s hand. “Bill, thank you for being here with us today. It means so much to Y/N and I.” 

“You’re welcome. Jensen I wonder if I could talk to you in private for a minute?” “Of course. Jared, can you give us a minute?” Jared nodded and left the room. “Bill, you wanted to speak to me? Is everything okay?” “Oh yeah, everything is perfect. Y/N is like a daughter to me, us. Even before she married Josh she was part of our family. When she married Josh and had Jazzy we felt on top of the world. After Josh died, a part of her died with him, but she kept that sweet, caring heart we all loved so much. We were so thankful when she met you and fell in love again, and even more thankful you were willing to have us in your lives. We can never repay you for that, son. Jensen, Margaret and I would like you to have this. I wore them when I married Margaret, and Josh wore them when he married Y/N. We want you to have them so when Jazzy gets old enough you can give them to her to use in her wedding.” 

Bill handed Jensen a small box, when he opened it there were beautiful gold, sapphire and diamond cufflinks. “Bill, these are beautiful, I can’t take them. They belong in your family.” Bill placed a hand on Jensen’s shoulder, “Son, you are family. They belong with you and Y/N.” “Bill, I’d be honored to wear them, thank you, sir.” Jensen and Bill exchanged a hug as he took the box. 

I was standing in the bridal suite taking deep breaths, looking at myself in the mirror when there was a knock on the door. Nichole answered it and when I looked up I saw Margaret and Bill. “Wow, sweetie, you’re stunning.” Margaret said as she pulled me into a hug. 

Bill stood to the side and just looked at me. I took a deep breath, “Do I look okay?” I asked him. He stepped forward, “Sweetheart, you’re even more beautiful than the day you married Joshua. Jensen is a lucky man.” He hugged me and I felt the tears burn the back of my eyes. 

It was a few minutes until the ceremony started and I still felt a pang of sadness about walking down the aisle alone. Jensen’s mom and Margaret got the kids in place, Gen and Nichole got in place and I took one last look in the mirror. 

Bill was standing at the door waiting for me. “You okay, kiddo?” My eyes flicked to him and he saw the tears in mine. He pulled me in a hug, “Shh, you’ve got this sweetie. That man out there is in love with you and I know you two are going to be incredibly happy.” I nodded. Then it hit me. I might not have grown up with a father, but I had a dad and he was standing right there with me. 

“Bill?” “Yes, sweetie?” “If you say no it’s okay. I completely understand, but would you do me the honor of walking me down the aisle?” “It would be my honor to do that.” I nodded, he took my arm and we walked outside. 

The sun was just starting to set, so the twinkle lights under the tent were sparkling with the orange glow from the setting sun. It was breathtaking. 

I heard the music start for the kids, Gen and Nichole. Then came my music. Bill took my arm and we walked out and around the corner. Jeff motioned for everyone to stand. 

Jensen turned around and locked eyes with me. I saw tears in his eyes. I walked down the aisle, my eyes never leaving his. Trying to steady my breath, because damn did he look amazing in his tux. 

At the end of the aisle, Bill hugged me, and gave my hand to Jensen. He shook Jensen’s hand and then hugged me again. Nichole fluffed my dress and I handed her my flowers, taking both of Jensen’s hands. 

He leaned over and whispered, “God you’re so beautiful.” I smiled. 

Jeff began the ceremony and it was time for our vows. Jensen went first. "The day I met you, I knew I had found something special. You were hurting, scared, and alone. I vowed to protect you, to love you, and to give you the happiness you deserve. I promise to always be your rock, your confidant, and your love. I'm grateful for the chance to be a part of your life. You've brought light into my world. You've shown me the meaning of unconditional love. I promise to be the best husband and father I can be. I'll always be there to support you, to encourage you, and to love you. Together, we'll build a future filled with love, laughter, and happiness. I'm so grateful for the chance to love you and our daughter. You've given me a reason to live, and a purpose. I promise to always be there for you, to provide for you, and to protect you. I'll cherish every moment we share, forever. I love you, Y/N."

My breath hitched, as the tears pricked my eyes. Then it was my turn. "When I first met you, I was lost in a storm. You were the lighthouse, steady and strong, guiding me to safety. You didn't just take me in; you welcomed me and my daughter into your heart. I promise to love you, cherish you, and honor you always. Thank you for being my hero. You saw me when I couldn't see myself. You loved me when I thought love was a distant memory. You're not just my partner, you're my protector, my provider, and my best friend. I promise to be the best wife and mother I can be, to love you unconditionally, and to build a beautiful future together. I've found in you a love that's rare and true. You've shown me what it means to be loved and cared for. I promise to be your constant, your support, and your joy. Together, we'll face whatever life throws our way, hand in hand. I love you, Jensen.”

Jeff smiled and Jensen nodded at him, “Jensen and Y/N have also written vows to their children, which they will say now. 

Jensen began, "Jazmyne, I promise to always be here for you, to love you unconditionally, and to guide you on your journey. I promise to be a loving and supportive dad, and to always be there to listen and to help. When you came into my life I had no idea what was missing. You and your mom were the missing pieces in my life. I will spend the rest of my life being the dad you deserve, and helping guide you through life’s trials, and love you until all the stars fall from the sky.” Jazzy leaped in his arms and held him tight. “I love you too, daddy.”

I took a deep breath and looked at JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin. “JJ, Arrow and Zeppy, I promise to always be a source of love, laughter, and support for you three. I'll be there for your triumphs, your setbacks, and everything in between. We will tackle it all together. I vow to honor the bond you share with your dad, and the love and bond you had with your mom. I am extremely honored to be a part of your lives, and to watch you grow. I’ve loved you three since the beginning and I’ll love you three until all the stars fall. Together the six of us will be a family and will always be there to take care of each other. I love you three so much.” They hugged me tightly, “We love you too.”

When I stood up, Jeff smiled. “Jensen, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?” 

Jensen looked at me and smiled, “I do.” Then Jeff turned to me, “Y/N, do you take Jensen to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?” I looked at Jensen and smiled, “I do.” 

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jensen, you may kiss your bride.” Jensen pulled me flush to him, leaned me back and kissed me deeply. Cheers and applause erupted. When Jensen pulled me back up we turned to face everyone. “It is my honor to announce for the first time, Mr and Mrs Jensen and Y/N Ackles.” 

Jensen, and I took each other’s hands and walked down the aisle together. We walked into the bridal suite to wait for photos. Inside Jensen closed and locked the door. 

He walked over to me and pulled me in for another deep kiss. He pulled away and looked at me, “You are absolutely breathtaking, darlin’. Are you wearing that thing you sent me under this?” He tried to pull my dress to the side and I giggled. “Yes I am, but you’re going to have to wait to see it. If you mess up my hair before pictures, Gen and Nichole are going to kick your ass.” 

He pulled me flush to his body, “Worth it.” I giggled as he started to kiss down my neck. I moaned as his hands started running up and down my body. Jensen’s hands slid down to the bottom of my dress and lifted up my skirt, revealing the dark blue lingerie I was wearing. 

Jensen bit his lip and growled. “Damn baby, this is beautiful, but definitely in the way.” I grabbed his hand, and that’s when I felt the cufflinks. “Jens, where did you get these?” “Bill and Margaret gave them to me. They wanted me to wear them when I married you, because you’re like a daughter to them.” I nodded, “That’s so sweet, Jens. These look like the ones Josh wore.” “That’s because they are, sweetheart.” I gasped, “Oh wow.” 

There was a knock on the door. It was Gen telling us it was time to get pictures taken. After pictures, it was time to enjoy the reception. We danced, ate, drank and had so much fun. 

As the night wore on the kids were starting to get sleepy. Jensen’s parents were keeping the kids for the night so Jensen and I could be alone. We had decided instead of a honeymoon with just the two of us, we were going on a family moon and taking the kids with us. We were leaving in two days, so Jensen and I had two days alone.

It was time for Jensen and I to leave the reception. Everyone lined up with sparklers and created an arch for us to walk under. When we got to the end, I turned around and hugged all of the kids and told them good night. Jensen helped me into Baby, and then walked around and slid in the driver’s seat. 

He took my hand in his and kissed it. “Ready to go home, Mr. Ackles?” “You better believe it, Mrs. Ackles. I can’t wait to get you out of that dress.” 

I chuckled and bit my lip. My body tingled with anticipation of what was to come. 

Jensen pulled into the driveway and walked around to my door. He opened it and offered me his hand. When he pulled me out of the car he pulled me flush to his body. His lips hovered over mine. I could feel his hot breath on my lips. I swallowed hard, my heart beating wildly in my chest. 

Jensen kissed me softly and took my hand, leading me to the door. Opening the door, Jensen looked at me, scooped me up and carried me over the threshold. “Welcome home, Mrs. Ackles.” He gently put me down and closed and locked the door. 

As soon as the door was locked, Jensen’s lips and hands were back on me. He kissed down my neck and to my cleavage. I tilted my head back and let out a moan. “Jens, please.” 

Jensen took my hand and led me upstairs to our room. He moved my hair to the side and started to unzip my dress. I shivered when his fingers brushed against my skin. When my dress was unzipped I let it fall at my feet. 

Standing before my husband in the navy blue lingerie I had on under my dress. Jensen bit his lip, “God this looks better in person. I am one lucky man.” I blushed.   

Jensen started to take off his tuxedo. I sat on the edge of the bed, watching him strip. My thighs clenched together when he was down to his boxers. My hands ran up his toned chest and into his hair as I stood to kiss his lips. 

I could feel his arousal through the thin material of his boxers, and my arousal soaking my panties. 

Jensen laid me back on the bed, pulled me down to the side and threw my legs over his shoulders. He unsnapped the bottom of the lingerie, exposing my dripping core. “Damn baby, you’re soaked.” I bit my lip and nodded. He kissed up my thighs and when he got to my pussy he slid his fingers inside. I gasped at the sudden feeling of fullness. Jensen hooked his fingers up, and his mouth attached to my clit. He sucked and licked, pushing me closer to the edge. My hands gripping the sheets and then his hair. I threw my head back, moaning and begging him not to stop. 

“Oh fuck, Jensen! That feels so good. Don’t stop.” This encouraged him to go faster. I bucked my hips into his mouth. He sucked my swollen clit as his fingers continued pumping in and out of me, deeper and deeper. 

“Jens..I’m…gonna…cum..oh fuck!” I moaned and pulled his head into my pussy. I felt the sting of his beard rubbing on my sensitive skin. I came hard with a loud scream of his name. Jensen kept going, and as my legs tried to close, he held them apart. I came again without warning. My body is sensitive and overstimulated. I screamed his name again. 

Jensen finally leaned up, my release covering his face. He hovered over me and placed a kiss on my lips. I tasted my release and deepened the kiss. Jensen leaned up and removed his boxers, his cock pink and wet with precum. I leaned forward and took his cock in my hand. Guiding it to my mouth. I began to suck him down deep into my throat. Jensen hissed when I sucked him into his balls. 

“Oh fuck, baby! Just like that.” I continued to suck him. My hands gripped his thighs as I took every inch of him in my mouth. Jensen’s hands went into my hair and began to push my head onto his cock. 

“Yes, baby. Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours. God, you feel so good.” The sounds of his moans and me sucking filled the room. Jensen’s breath ragged. Then he pulled me off of him.

“Jens, what happened? Did I hurt you?” Jensen cupped my face, “No darlin’ that was amazing, but if you kept it up I would have cum down your throat and I want to make love to my wife tonight.” 

I smiled and nodded. He laid me back and crawled up between my legs. “You ready baby?” I nodded. Jensen took his length in his hand and lined himself up. With one thrust he bottomed out. Both of us were moaning as he filled me up. He stopped and allowed my body to adjust to his size. 

He always stretched me in ways that had my head reeling. He began to move. His movements, slow and deliberate. He was making love to me, without hurrying through to get to his release. 

His lips trailed over my body, our fingers finding each other and interlocking as he held my hands down on the bed. Our bodies moved together in slow, deliberate motions. My body was filled with desire, love and bliss. 

“I love you, Jensen.” I whispered. “I love you too, Y/N. So much.” 

“I want you on top, baby. I want to see your beautiful body.” I nodded, Jensen pulled out and laid down. I climbed on top, lined him back up and took him back inside. I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself. I began to rock my hips back and forth. 

Jensen’s hands held onto my breasts as I continued to ride him. He was in so deep I could feel his cockhead hitting my cervix with each thrust. I rocked my hips and bounced faster. Something ignited in Jensen, because he lifted his legs up, held onto my hips and began to thrust up in me. His thrusts grew faster as his moans became louder. “Oh fuck, Y/N. You feel so good. I’m gonna cum, baby.” 

“Yes, Jensen! Cum in me, fill me up with your seed.” A few more thrusts and Jensen was grunting, spilling his hot seed inside me. I could feel his cock twitch inside me. When I felt him stop, I climbed off, went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. I came back with a washcloth and started to clean Jensen. Since he was extra sensitive he took the cloth and cleaned himself. 

When he was done he threw it to the side and pulled me close to him. Jensen cupped my face and kissed me deeply. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for coming into our lives, loving us and becoming my wife. I love you so much baby and I promise you I will love you until the end of time.” 

I smiled softly and looked into his green eyes so full of love, “I love you too, Jensen. Thank you for loving me and Jazzy and becoming my husband. I’ll love you until the end of time.” 

Jensen pulled me close to him, grabbed the blanket and put it over us. “Good night, darlin’.” I laid my head on his chest, “Good night, baby.” The two of us drifted off to sleep thinking about how an unexpected friendship could lead to this beautiful family and incredible love we created together.

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[mysteryinkkat234]

Trafalgar Law Rockstar Headcannons

This was an idea I got from this post, and my friends and I came up with some fun ideas. And then I thought of maybe writing one-shots or a full chaptered story of a Rockstar Law x Reader.

Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for one shots, One Piece related, my DMs are open

DISCLAIMER: these headcannons have talks of drug addiction, Doflamingo and his bullshit, and NSFW topics such as bondage and dirty talks

Hope you enjoy!

* grew up with his parents wanting him to become a doctor, instead he started a rock band, called the Heart Pirates with Shachi (Bassist), Penguin (Keyboard and 2nd Guitarist), and Bepo (Percussion) and a bunch of other people

* He’s both a guitarist and singer, playing mostly Hard Rock, Prog Rock, and Alternative Metal like Blue Öyster Cult, Queens of the Stone Age, Slipknot

* They mostly play at underground stages, bars, Law tries to keep it indie and not spread too quickly

* They do start getting fans, but also majority of them, mainly feminine individuals, who really like Law. I mean how can you not? Tattoos, tired eyes, nice voice, chill attitude.

* Law’s family is actually pretty stacked, his mom and dad being both Doctors and his sister Cami studying to be one. He doesn’t really tell people about his family though

* As he was going to medical school he sadly fell into a bad crowd, following them to a group called the Donquixote Family. He soon was kicked out of school. He couldn’t tell his parents about it either, being homeless for a while.

* He soon meets Rosinante, a DEA agent and Doflamingo’s, the head honcho of the Donquixote Family, little brother. He lets Law live with him in his apartment, helping him with rehabilitation.

* Sadly, he’s unable to get him out of Doflamingo’s debt, Doflamingo asks for Law to work for him once in a while, playing music and entertaining guests at his local clubs and casinos, all while doing doing his Heart Pirates band, now with an ‘anonymous’ sponsor

* How Law meets the reader was a classic meet-cute. A record store, the reader was organizing records and bumps into Law. They bond for a bit, banter.

~~~

“You know I play guitar, in a band.”

(Sarcastic)”Seems that every guy that comes to me says they’re in a band.”

“Hehe, yeah sorry, did they invite you to their shows?”

“No, they say ‘we’re still looking a place to let us play’ and then forget about me.”

“Trust me when u say I have a band that has done a bunch of shows, lots of underground places if you’re interested.”

“Mayhaps~”

~~~

* and that’s how Law and reader met, and soon fell in love. The Heart Pirates get introduced to them, they rag on Law for being a softie but the reader likes them, they’re good to her.

* As Law and the reader are dating, she lets me sit in the green room, watching on a TV of the show, cheering for their boyfriend without the sound of other people gooning for him.

* Does Rosinante know about Law’s partner? Yeah but also he’s out of the house most the time, they’ve never bumped into each other before. Law tells his partner that they’re roommates and that’s all.

~~~

NSFW Headcannons:

* He doesn’t tell his fans that he has a partner, stuff like crazy fans trying to fight them in real life

* He’s heard some wild stuff at concerts yelled out by people. And in the back of his head, he’s reminded of his partner… and all the naughty stuff he’s going to do when he goes home

* Law likes the dirty talk, and the praise. “Every time I’m on stage, I think of fucking you in the green room, and no one would know.” “You’re the only fan I’ll fuck, and I’ll fuck you good. You have all of me, and I have all of you.”

* He likes fingering their partner while wearing rings, he likes to see them shiver from temperature play

* And bondage, loves tying his partner to the post of his bed, or partner tying HIM to the bed.

* Sex has never left the apartment, there have been some heavy make-outs in the green room and some perverted touches but he soon kept it cute and sweet in public in front of his friends.

* Shachi and Penguin will recommend the wackiest kinks to then get beat by Law.

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, drinking, use of "princess", not much of anything this part tbh. eventual smut warning tho of course ( • ᴗ - ) A/N: THE SPIN OFF IS FINALLY HERE! of course, because I'm obsessive I've already written 3 full parts... I suck at writing beginnings though, so bear with me as things are a lil slow in my opinion! I hope you all enjoy it as much as you enjoyed Hunter and Hunted; and be prepared for MORE smut cause its SUKUNA OF COURSE.

index part one | part two

part one word count: 2,762

Christmas had come and gone, and you had stepped into the new year with an even angrier outlook on life than you’d had before. sure, last year had been rough; you’d been cheated on and promptly dumped for someone else, and the bittersweet icing on the cake was when you found out your ex had gotten engaged over the holiday season. you’d done what any sane person would do – drank away your feelings.

the past few weeks, your friends could often find you at the bottom of a mug, angry eyes watching as you toyed with the coaster at any bar you’d walked into. you need – no, wanted – vengeance. you imagined the look on your ex’s face if you ran into him with another, maybe hotter, guy on your arm. men these days were only looking to get their dicks wet, how hard could it be to snag one?

you came to realize it was incredibly hard.

any man that gave you the time of day seemed to be scraping the bottom of the barrel, consistently sleezy and looking like they hadn’t showered in days. or worse, still lived in their mother’s basement. the men you worked with were no better. constantly watching your ass as you walked by, attempting to slyly cop a feel in the break room, and so on.

so, here you were, walking down the street to a pub around the corner from your job to grab a drink. you had a one-track mind for this sort of thing, oblivious to your surroundings until two men stepped into your path to stop you.

“excuse me.” you muttered as you took a step to the side, trying to go around them. before you could get back to your mission one of their hands reached out and snagged your wrist. ugh, more disgusting pigs. “I’ll ask you once to kindly let go off me.”

“c’mon pretty, we just wanna talk t’ ya.” the bigger, burlier one gave you a sly grin that made your skin crawl.

“yea, walking around with a skirt that short we couldn’t help but notice ya.” the one holding your wrist tightened his grip slightly. your frown stretched down your face as you took a moment to assess the situation. what was it your friends always said? right – be loud, draw attention, scream fire and whatnot.

“oi, get your fucking hands off me!” you shouted, tugging your wrist against the firm hold.

“what do ya expect when ya dress like a whore?” one of them snapped as they stepped closer. you were only dressed for work; skirt that came down mid-thigh, button up blouse that covered every inch of your skin, so how was this outfit whorish?

“she’s got a mouth on her, huh?” they nudged each other as you struggled to get free. with your free hand, you made a fist and pulled it back. you wouldn’t be able to seriously injure them, that was for sure, but you could at least distract and get away.

“I said leave me the hell alone, twatbags!” you shouted, fist shaking but staying firm in a pulled-back position. if they made one more move, you’d muster up the courage and hit one of them.

suddenly, both men went wide-eyed in front of you and your wrist was released from it’s prison. hah, so my scare tactics worked, you thought. you’d have to pat yourself on the back later for this achievement. “aw, little ole me got you boys scared? looks like you’re about to wet your pants.” you smirked, crossing your arms in triumph.

until their eyes traveled from you, to over your head.

“these guys bothering you?”

your body tensed at the deep, baritone voice from behind you. so that’s what had the men backing off – but that scared? whoever was behind you had to be huge, like a wrestler or something. you imagine big, bulging muscles and a towering figure, and you gulped.

“I believe she asked you to leave her alone.” whoever was behind you continued, and with each word you almost shivered. his voice exuded strength, even something like anger laced in his tone. or was it just annoyance? “oh, forgot to add the twatbags part. that was a good descriptor.”

the two men stepped back and the other man stepped forward, now standing slightly in front of you. you dared to scan his figure – not a body builder, but definitely not small. he wore a black compression tee that showed off his muscles, and you could see the tattoos running all across his skin, intertwined and connected everywhere you looked. your eyes caught on his light pink hair, slicked back but disheveled on the sides as if he’d been running a hand through the strands.

“while I’d love the entertainment of watching her take a swing at you, I don’t think you want to see what happens if you retaliated.” the man merely crossed his arms before looking down at you. he did in fact tower, maybe just over you but he was still above average height. something flickered in his eyes as they met yours, and you could only stare at him speechlessly.

he hadn’t even had to do anything before the men scoffed and walked away, albeit hurriedly like a fire had been lit under their asses. you and the man watched as they scurried down the sidewalk, and you finally let out a sigh when they disappeared from sight.

“thanks for that. although I’m pretty sure I had it covered.” you felt him look at you as you watched the distance – double checking that they were in fact gone before you left the protection of the stranger.

he chuckled lowly as he shook his head. “looks like you did. but, I thought I’d provide backup just in case.”

but before he could continue, you were already walking away in the opposite direction of the two men. all you had wanted was a damn drink, and by god you were going to get one.

you could hear the faint echo of footsteps behind you, but you tried to push it out of your mind, focusing instead on the door to the bar in front of you. with a swift motion, you yanked it open, stepping inside and hoping to lose the stranger following you.

but when you heard those same footsteps following you in, your patience snapped. you turned around, irritation bubbling to the surface. “are you following me?” you demanded, locking eyes with the man who had been trailing behind you. “do I need to be worried about you too?”

he just chuckled, his casual demeanor only adding to your annoyance. “do you think I owe you something now?” you shot back, trying to keep your tone serious, though it was clear he didn’t take you seriously at all.

his laughter echoed in the small space; a mocking sound that only made your frustration grow. “actually,” he said, his voice steady, “I came back to finish the beer I left to save your ass.” he gestured nonchalantly at a knocked-over bar stool and the half-empty drink sitting nearby, the remnants of the drink he’d been enjoying before the whole mess began.

the heat of embarrassment crept up your neck as you processed his words. “oh.” you mumbled, feeling the awkwardness seep into your skin. "sorry. considering the kind of men I’ve just dealt with, I didn’t know if you were some sleazeball too.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “sleazeball? you sound like my little brother,” he said with a smirk, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

you couldn't help but throw a jab back. “then he has good taste in vocabulary.”

the man’s grin only grew wider, clearly amused by the bite in your tone. his eyes glinted with something like genuine entertainment as he took a step closer. “my name’s Ryomen Sukuna, by the way,” he said, his voice dripping with casual confidence.

you narrowed your eyes, studying him with suspicion. there was something about the way he carried himself that set your nerves on edge. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable giving my full name to a complete stranger,” you replied, your tone a mix of caution and defiance.

Sukuna simply shrugged, as though your response didn’t faze him in the least. “but I just introduced myself, after acting as your knight in shining armor, I might add.” he gave a lazy stretch, his posture relaxed as he leaned against the bar, his gaze fixed on you as if daring you to challenge him further.

you didn’t back down. “that doesn’t mean I know you now,” you said, your eyes still narrowed. you turned away from him, flagging down the bartender who had just started to clean the counter. “a drink. whiskey, neat,” you said, your voice firm as you slid a few bills across the bar.

normally, you wouldn’t dare drink hard liquor on a weekday at five o’clock, but goddamn you needed it now. your nerves were on edge, but a stronger feeling had settled within you since the start of this particular conversation.

he was unbelievably attractive. pierced ears, tattooed skin, and a smile reminiscent of the devil across his lips. so so not your usual type. but then again, your type had cheated on you. Sukuna’s presence was almost overwhelming – strength, confidence or cockiness – the air stilled around him like it was intruding his space.

Sukuna watched you with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “then get to know me,” he said, his voice low and almost coaxing, as if the idea of you refusing was an amusing thought to him.

you didn’t hesitate in your response. “buy me a drink and I’ll consider it,” you shot back, your tone playful but laced with a challenge. you’d be damned if you’d make it that easy for him, knowing all to well the type of men that seem to flirt with you always turn out to be disgusting.

he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your boldness, but said nothing as the bartender set your drink down in front of you. it was clear you weren’t going to make things easy for him, but that only seemed to fuel his curiosity.

you were already fascinating him. from Sukuna’s first look at you, ready to stand your ground against two grown men, to now acting defiant against him even as he could see the tension in your shoulders with every sentence you spoke. were you feigning confidence or was it real? he liked the way you talked back to him; it made the conversation more entertaining, and he eased into it with pleasure.

Sukuna’s eyes never left you as you took your drink from the bartender, the smooth amber liquid catching the dim light of the bar. he didn't immediately respond, just leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, a thoughtful expression playing across his features. for a moment, you wondered if he was going to let the challenge slide.

then, to your surprise, he pushed off the bar with a slow, deliberate movement and took a step toward you. his presence felt heavier now, more intense. heat rolled off of him and over you, his cologne drowned your senses. “a drink, huh?” he mused, his voice taking on a playful edge, like he was toying with you. “that’s all it takes to get you to talk to me?”

you took a sip of your whiskey, cringing at the burn as you met his gaze head-on. “depends on the drink,” you replied, the hint of a smirk curling at your lips. you had no intention of giving in that quickly, not when he still felt like a puzzle you weren’t sure you wanted to solve.

Sukuna chuckled softly, the sound deep and almost predatory, like he was enjoying the chase. “I think I can handle that,” he said, raising a hand to signal the bartender. his attention briefly shifted to the man behind the counter, but when it returned to you, his expression had softened, just a fraction, though the amusement never fully left his eyes. “is whiskey your usual, then?” he asked, his tone suddenly more casual, almost conversational.

you tilted your head, considering him for a moment. “I’m not sure it’s the drink I’m worried about,” you said, leaning in just slightly, your voice quieter now. “it’s the company.”

he gave you a look that said he wasn’t fazed by your words, not in the slightest. "trust me," he replied smoothly, "I’m better company than most people you'd find in this place."

he wasn't wrong. there was something undeniably magnetic about him, an energy that drew you in despite your better judgment. you could sense there was more to him than what he was showing, and a part of you couldn’t help but wonder what he was really after.

the bartender placed a fresh drink in front of Sukuna — a glass of something darker, likely whiskey as well, and more expensive than the one you had just ordered. Sukuna didn’t touch it immediately, instead shifting his stance so he was fully facing you, his eyes now narrowing just slightly, as if sizing you up. like you were a snack he wanted to take a bite out of.

"alright, I’ll bite," he said, his voice a low murmur as he watched you closely. “what’s your story?”

you took another sip of your drink, your gaze never leaving his. “maybe I’ll tell you,” you said slowly, deliberately, “but it’s going to cost you more than just a drink.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into another half-smile, his confidence never wavering. “I’m up for the challenge. what’s the price?” his tone had shifted again, all business now, but there was still an edge of that playful intensity behind it.

for the briefest moment, you almost felt like you were playing a game with him, something neither of you had agreed on but that you both instinctively understood. you hesitated, eyes scanning his face for any hint of vulnerability — but there was none.

“get me another round, and we’ll talk,” you finally said, giving him a sly smile that matched the gleam in your eyes.

Sukuna didn’t need another word. he turned away, reaching for the glass, a quiet satisfaction in his movements. he knew the game was far from over, but there was no doubt in his mind that he’d be the one to win it.

you lifted your eyes to meet his, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. he was still an enigma, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed but with an edge that hinted at something more dangerous beneath.

“you’re a man of few words,” you observed, your voice playful but with an undercurrent of challenge. “or is it that you’re waiting for me to spill my life story?”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your attempt to provoke him. “I’ve got all the time in the world,” he replied smoothly, voice low and even. you could feel his eyes on you, studying you in a way that made you want to pull back, but also something else—a curiosity, maybe even an unspoken challenge.

you took another sip, avoiding his gaze for a moment. “and what’s in it for me?” you asked, your voice steady but carrying a hint of sarcasm. “why should I bother getting to know you?”

Sukuna’s smile deepened, almost like he was savoring the moment. “because,” he said, his voice now tinged with something a little darker, “I’m not just any stranger. and I think you’ll find out, sooner or later, that I’m worth your time.”

his confidence was almost infuriating, but you couldn’t deny that something about him intrigued you. maybe it was his audacity, or maybe it was the mystery that clung to him like a second skin. or possibly, that he could be the hottest man you’d ever laid eyes on. either way, you weren’t ready to walk away just yet.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you replied, a small challenge in your voice, but this time, there was a flicker of curiosity in your gaze too.

Sukuna met your challenge with a steady, unwavering stare, his smirk never fading. “then I guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out, won’t you?”

it wasn’t an offer. it wasn’t even a question. it was a promise. and whether you liked it or not, you were beginning to realize that you might just be caught up in his game—whether you wanted to be or not.

it wasn’t an offer, or even a question. it was a damn promise. whether you realized it, you were beginning to get caught up in his game – it was inevitable.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya I tagged some people that interacted A TON with Hunter and Hunted who I appreciate so so much ; so if you were tagged and would like to be removed just let me know! ♡ I hope this fic is as loved as Hunter and Hunted! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[dwaekkistar]

Chapter 5: The Turn Around

        The ride back home was fairly quiet, as Sujin was still somewhat traumatized and processing what had happened. Seungmin was deep in his mind, trying to figure out how he would turn things around with the omega, as he felt a deep regret for his behavior. Changbin and Chan were planning something they thought would help the omega when they got to the house, everyone in the car could still sense a bit of anxiety lingering on his scent. The doctor's appointment had everyone feeling like they regressed with sujin and the pack hadn't even made it past stage 1 with the latter. They were a bit stuck on what steps to take next, but they'd find a way to get the omega to open up to them more. They eventually got home, parking the car in the warm garage.

        Sujin walked straight to his room, not having the mental energy to socialize. The omega wanted to go into his nest and release what was left of the anxiety in his system. He quickly made it to his room closing and locking the door behind him swiftly. He hurriedly went to his bedroom bathroom and got undressed, throwing every article of clothing into the hamper, and began running the shower. He hopped into the shower and practically scrubbed his skin until it turned red. When Sujin felt he had sufficiently cleaned himself he rinsed himself off and turned the shower back off. He got out and still felt a bit frazzled with anxiety, which was typical in his situation. They never quite really helped soothe his anxiety when it came to the thoughts of his uncle. Nesting with his little material back in Auckland was the only thing that ever really helped him, so he was sure it was the same now. He walked to the linen closet in his bathroom pulled out a towel and dried himself as much as possible before throwing it in the same hamper with his dirty clothes and heading to his room. He walks over to the dresser, opens the compartment where his boxers are neatly stored, and pulls out a pair of boxers sliding them on. He stood for a bit contemplating if he wanted fo get fully dressed just to lay in the nest, but he ultimately decided against it. He hoped that nesting this way would not only calm his anxiety but also help him get more in tune with his inner wolf. He hadn't heard from it since he was just a mere little pup before the neglect from his family started ramping up and taking a toll on him.

He hopped into the nest and nuzzled himself against every possible corner of it, taking in the scents that were still heavily laced into every item in the nest. He snuggled close to the blanket that smelled of the seaside, inhaling deeply as he let the scent wash over him. As he did so his body relaxed to the point it felt like he almost went limp. He took in another deep breath of the scent when his eyes suddenly glowed gold, a small little voice screaming mate at him. He bolted into an upward sitting position, still holding the blanket that was pungent with the lead alpha seaside scent in a confused daze. 'Where did that voice come from?' he thought to himself, it was weird as he heard this small voice, a voice that he'd always told himself was how he would have sounded if he was like the other cute and petite omegas he'd seen growing up. As if on cue the voice spoke again, 'Inner wolf... have we been disconnected for that long ?' the voice said sassily. 'I guess so..?' sujin mentally said in response to his inner wolf as he sat up. 'Sniff nest... we need it' Not wanting to argue with or disappoint his inner wolf Sujin immediately went back to inhaling the scents in his nest, immediately becoming more relaxed than before as his eyes glowed gold once more.

A round of knocks abruptly went off as he took in the scents, causing him to jump. His eyes returned to their normal color, and he immediately hid his mostly unclothed body under the blanket before yelling to come in. The door slowly opened, when Sujin got a glimpse of platinum locks of hair. He let out a soft sigh upon realizing it was just Felix.

"Hey, I was just coming to check up on you..." He softly spoke as he slipped deeper into the room closing the door behind him. " I heard you had a rough day at the doctor's office." He then carefully sat at the foot of the nest area, not wanting to get in out of respect seeing as omegas took their nest seriously.

"Yeah, I had quite a day," Sujin replied softly, " thought I would just decompress in the nest for a bit..."

"Do you mind if I come in the nest ?" Felix said comfortingly albeit laced with caution "I wanted to help comfort you but I don't wanna break any boundaries."

"You can come in the nest," Sujin said as a soft smile grew on his face, "you're always welcome in my nest."

Felix then carefully got into the nest and sat pretty close to Sujin, shooting the omega a smile. It was at this moment the younger remembered he wasn't fully clothed, and wondered if the alpha next to him took notice of his lack of clothes. As if reading his mind Felix reached his hand out and gently rested it on sujin's bare side. The younger immediately shuddered at the touch but in a good way. For some reason, the alpha's touch made him very giddy and he couldn't understand why, until his inner wolf was practically yelling mate at him again. Why would his inner wolf be saying mate to someone with a completely different scent than earlier and what did that mean?

"Is there anything you wanna talk about or do while we wait for them to finish up dinner?" Felix softly asked, his deep voice snapping Sujin back to reality. He thought thoroughly before answering the freckled alpha.

"Why does Seungmin not like me ?" Sujin said with a tinge of embarrassment lacing his voice. It wasn't like him to voice things that bothered him let alone his emotions but for some odd reason, he felt like it was safe enough to explain these things to Felix. It was like his heart had a strong pull towards the other that he could not explain. But upon hearing Sujin's words Felix's face dropped somewhat into a frown.

"Uhm...let's just say we have a past with omegas..." He said quietly with a hint of hesitation lacing his voice, "I think it would be better if he explained it to you."

"Oh? Okay.." the omega said with confusion. What did Felix mean by they had a past with omegas... was there another omega before him? And if there was what happened that they weren't around anymore? "Well, what did you guys do while we were away today?"

"Oh, we just kinda relaxed I watched TV while checking in on you guys for the most part." The alpha replied with a faint smile. "We like to make sure everyone's doing okay even if they're not away for long."

"Oh... that's kinda sweet..." Sujin replied shyly, "Never experienced something like that"

"What do you mean?" Felix said as his brows furrowed, "Weren't you in a family pack before this?"

"Oh, uhm my family pack didn't like me if we're being honest.." the younger said trailing off as his face suddenly soured at the turn of the conversation. He didn't like talking about his family pack much considering they never treated him as part of it.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Felix said as he inched closer to sujin, prepared to comfort the omega at any second. How the word family made the omega's face scrunch in hurt broke the alpha's heart.

"Not really," Sujin replied as he looked off deep in thought, "it's nothing of importance I should bring up anyways."

Felix decided upon hearing the younger's words that he wouldn't push it but something deep in him knew that part of whatever caused Sujin to come back home in the state he did had to do with his family. He also knew he along with the rest of the pack would do anything in their heart to undo whatever trauma the omega's family pack inflicted on him.

Just as Felix finished that thought, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He carefully pulled his phone out while Sujin watched him to see that Minho sent a text about dinner being ready.

"We should probably head downstairs," Felix said as he carefully left the nest,  "Minho says that dinner is ready and I'm kinda starving."

"Oh okay," Sujin says softly, "I'll meet you downstairs. I have to put on some clothes." Felix then shot the omega a smile before leaving the room. Sujin got up from under the blanket he was hiding his lower body with, making it over to his wardrobe and slipping into a pair of sweatpants and a black tee. He also wore socks for extra warmth and comfort as he hated how he always shivered without them. The omega quietly went downstairs to the kitchen and was not surprised to see the entire pack already sat and being served.

"Sujin-ah it took you long enough to get here.." Minho blurted out happily, " I was worried the food was going to get cold by the time you got here."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to take long.." the younger said quietly as he sat in the only available seat left between Changbin and Chan.

"It's fine," Minho said as he placed a plate of food in front of the omega, " as long as you're eating everything is good."

Sujin began to eat as he watched the alpha serve himself and join them at the table. He smiled slightly as he placed the first forkful in his mouth, and the food tasted delicious. The alphas in charge of cooking today decided to make kimchi fried rice and bulgogi, with a side of panjeon. The omega figured they had to have a cookbook somewhere because there was no way a pack full of alphas knew these dishes off the top of their head. But as he finished the thought he realized that was a very traditional and conservative way of thinking and he didn't want to remind himself of his family pack. He annoyingly realized he learned so many things through his former family pack that he would have to unlearn. He continued to silently eat his food as the others conversed with each other at the table.

The pack truly wanted to include him, but they felt it was better to give him a break from socializing after what he had experienced earlier in the day. When everyone finished their food, Sujin was the last to put his plate in the sink. Usually one of the alpha's would just load all the dishes into the dishwasher when everyone's done but it seems like they all went off and did their own thing as they waited for the omega to finish his meal. So he took matters into his hand loading the dishwasher the way he saw the others do so many times. He even made sure to load the cleaning detergent in properly before turning it on. As he stood back up he smelled a deep waft of brown sugar reach his nose. He knew someone entered the kitchen he just didn’t know who as the scent was still unfamiliar to him despite spending almost a few weeks with the pack so far.

What he didn’t expect when he turned around was Seungmin standing just right before the island separating them.

Taglist: @missrandomheart @galaxycatdrawz@hydrawaterdragon @justastraymoa @3rachasninja @justiceforvillains

[knockknockitsnickels]

Something which I think is kind of under-discussed regarding the Princess is how lonely she is, esp in contrast to you (the player). From the start of the game, you're never alone. You've got the Narrator - despite how questionable his company is - and the Voice of the Hero, then slowly all of your other voices. She doesn't have that. We see in Princess and the Dragon, every time a new loop starts she's completely alone with only the thought that this is what she deserves. You're the only thing she has.

Shifty asks "Why wouldn't I be kind to you? You're the only thing I know which isn't me." And we see in the game - with some exceptions, like the Witch - the Princess' goal come chapter 2 is always to have your company. Sometimes it's to subjugate you, like the Tower, and sometimes it's for help escaping, but she's almost always seeking your companionship in some way.

But you've got your voices, and the Narrator. You never really needed her, did you? I'm thinking about PATD again, where you can spend the whole chapter bonding with her only to immediately turn on her the second you get your body back ("Good to be back, boys"). In the final cabin at the end of the game, the Heart Princess can mention the whole conflict boils down to whether Shifty (and by extension, the Princess herself) "should" get to exist. If you kill the Heart Princess, you've still got your voices. There's no ending where she lives on alone. I don't think she'd even WANT an ending like that.

She just makes me very sad. You're the only thing she knows, and in some routes you're just. Relentlessly cruel to her.

[justastraymoa]

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 15

Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation. Blood drowning drowning in blood. Nightmares.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

We knew it was coming, but it still sucked to be going to bed alone.  There just wasn’t enough room for everyone to sleep comfortably in a hotel room.  I was strangely anxious as I got ready for bed.  I procrastinated.  Taking a longer shower than usual, doing an extra-long skin care routine, picking out an outfit for tomorrow, playing on my phone.  Until I finally had no choice but to turn in.

My dreams were full of blood and screaming.  A faceless, nameless Alpha bleeding out, reaching towards me for help.  Gurgling and choking on their own blood as it pooled around my ankles, rising quickly until it was at my hips.  The blood was cold and thick, not letting me move to get away-to run.  As it rose to my neck the pressure started to make it hard to breathe and I gasped in small amounts of air desperately trying to move.  I couldn’t let it cover my nose.  I didn’t want to drown in someone’s blood!  Please!  Oh god, please!

Waking with a flair of pain as I fell out of bed and hit my shoulder on the unforgiving hotel floor, I lay there, adjusting to reality and catching my breath.  I could still see the bleeding Alpha every time I closed my eyes.  My throat felt raw, like I had been screaming.  Maybe that was the screaming I heard in the nightmare.

I jumped hard when there was a knock on my door and an unintelligible voice on the other side, muffled by the thick hotel door.  With a sigh and still shaking I stood and answered the door.  If I was really screaming it was probably security coming to check on me.

I blinked, shocked when I opened the door to most of the staff and all my Omegas.  Plus, of course, security who were the only ones who didn’t look half asleep.  “I’m sorry.  I had a nightmare.”  I explained embarrassed.

Luckily, there were no outward signs of judgement.  Most staff and security just nodded or murmured in understanding and left.  Back to their rooms to sleep more.  The Omegas stayed, though most looked mostly asleep, leaning on each other.

“I’m really okay guys.  Go back to bed.”  No need for them to be tired tomorrow because of me.  They were already jam packed with schedules.

They dispersed back to their rooms.  All except Cahn and Lino.  Unceremoniously, Lino shoved by me and went straight to my bed - immediately falling back asleep.  I looked back at Chan in question.

“We’ll stay with you tonight.”  He stated.

Chan waited until I stepped aside to enter my room, but it was clear he wasn’t leaving – just being polite.  He made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the bed from Lino, leaving a space in between them for me, which he patted in invitation when I didn’t immediately join them.

I was immensely grateful that neither made a big deal about staying with me.  With them near me I felt like I would actually be able to fall asleep and get some rest.

Climbing over Chan, I squeeze myself between them and snuggled up to him.  He pulled me closer to tuck me under his chin and soothingly started rubbing his foot along my half.

“Was it the airport incident?”  Chan asked quietly a minute later.

“I guess it affected me more than I thought.”  I was disappointed in myself.  For not being stronger.  I wasn’t even hurt, it’s so stupid to be afraid now!

Chan kissed the top of my head.  “You were covered in human blood.  Anyone would be traumatized.  I would have vomited or cried for sure.”  He assured me.

“You did good.  Didn’t give the bastards anything.”  Lino mumbled from his pillow behind me.  I had thought he was sleeping, but apparently, I was wrong.

“I did faint.”  I pointed out.

“After we were safely out of public eye.  Don’t be so hard on yourself.  No one can be strong all the time.  We all have out breaking points.”  Chan chastised gently.

Lino scooted closer behind me.  There are 9 of us.  We carry each other.”  He sighed nuzzling his face on the back of my neck.  Something he would never do or say if he wasn’t half asleep, I am sure.

“Okay, okay.  Both of you get some sleep.”  I tucked the blanket around the three of us and settled back in, ready to give sleeping without nightmares another chance now that I was between two of my Omegas.

With their warmth and scent around me, I fell back asleep easily.  And despite the nightmare still fresh in my mind, I only had pleasant dreams for the rest of the night.

The great thing about dance practice is that I could go in sweatpants, and no one cared.  Which was good because early morning practices were not my favorite.  Between Lino and Chan, I was somehow dressed, given a piggyback ride to the car, and provided caffeine.

When the caffeine finally started to kick in, I blearily looked at the calendar on my phone to see the schedule for the day.  Trying to make sense of the chaos of nine schedules in one day all jumbled and overlapping each other.

From what I could tell, after practice Chan, Felix and I had an interview with an Australian entertainment show followed by a photoshoot for a magazine spread.  My first official interview and photoshoot where I wasn’t the photographer.

Since I had never been a model before I needed to study.  So, I pulled up some of my best photos on my tablet and while the boys practiced their dances I practiced modeling.  Both facial expressions and poses.  It felt and looked clumsy as hell, and I was embarrassed.

“What the fuck are you doing?”  Lino asked coming over on one of their breaks.  I had been attempting to replicate a particularly soft and sexy pose in my camera – and failing apparently.

I relaxed my face and dropped my arms with a huff.  “I have a photoshoot with Cannie and Lixie this afternoon.”

“So, you decided to practice bad modeling?”

“Am I really that bad?”  I pouted feeling defeated.

Lino patted my head.  “You’re thinking too much about it.  You do this all the time.”

“No!  I take pictures – I’m not in them!”

“Y/n, babe, you are going to do fine.  No one is expecting you to be perfect.”

“I cannot drag you guys down!  I will not allow it!”

“You won’t.  And we won’t let you fall either.  We will walk you through the shoot.”  Felix said, joining us with a half empty bottle of water and a damp sweat towel.

I gave in easily to his promise – trusting him to keep his word.  He was one of the better models of the group, so he would likely be able to walk me through it easily.  And, despite what I said to Lino, my experience behind the camera would help, just like it did when I took the bonding marks photos.

This was the first time I was leaving a significant number of my Omegas.  And it was for almost half a day.  As the time to leave drew closer I found myself almost clinging to the Omegas I would leave.  Constantly reestablishing contact and seeking out their touch and scent as well.  Like I was some kind of drug addict in need of a constant fix.

I even went as far as sitting on Bins lap during their meeting with staff.  Pulling Hyune close and playing with his fingers in my lap and hooking an ankle around Ayen’s calf firmly.  And even as I had all three of them, my instincts wanted to bring Han, Lino, and Seungmin closer.  To have some part of me touching them, just a little.

For their part they didn’t seem to mind my clinginess.  In fact, I don’t think it bothered them at all that we would be apart for hours.  They weren’t seeking contact like I was, and any skinship I got from them I had to ask for.  Knowing that they weren’t affected by being separated from me for hours stung.  It downright hurt.  It made me sad and bitter, but unable to stop seeking contact with them.

I tried not to be bitter.  They all had a lot going on right now.  A lot on their plates and a lot on their minds.  They really didn’t have time to think about me, to worry about being apart.

I tried to remember this and not be bitter and upset, but it didn’t really work.  Emotions didn’t work on rationality and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stop them.  The best I could do was try not to take it out on the Omegas.

“Alright, baby girl, time to go.”  Chan clapped and rubbed his hands together.

I shook my head.  “Not yet.”  It was too soon.  I needed more time.  Like maybe a week or two.

Chan tilted his head with a fond smile and exasperated body language.  “We have to go, or we will be late.”

We had a stare down.  Me pouting and him in fond exasperation before I finally gave in with a growl.

Lino laughed and came over to squish my cheeks together when I stood.  “That was so cute!”

Rolling my eyes I shoved his hands away but pulled him in for a hug.  I rubbed my hands all down his back and arms to make sure plenty of my scent was left behind.  So, everyone knew – even if I wasn’t here - that he was bonded.  That he was mine.

I gave the same treatment to the other Omegas I was leaving behind, taking my time, and making sure enough scent was left behind.  I had to make sure – it was an absolute must.

They tolerated it well enough.  Standing still while I rubbed at them with hyperfocus.  Only a few chuckles and eyerolls.  Han and Ayen curling up when I accidentally tickled them.

“Honey, we really are going to be late if we don’t leave.”  Lix called gently.

I nodded.  “Okay, okay.  I’m coming!”

Once in the car the anxiety doubled, and I stared at the building as we drove further and further away from six of my Omegas.  Felix took my hand and squeezed it in comfort.

“They will be fine.  And we’ll be back before you know it.”  He said quietly.

And he was right.  They would be fine.  They had their own schedules to keep them busy.  It was literally just me freaking out over separating.

It’s not like I thought they needed my protection because I knew they didn’t.  Omegas weren’t weak, and my Omegas were the strongest I have ever met.  It was me that needed them.  Needed to be needed – be wanted – by them.  I was the weak one.

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[angelofhogan]

NIGHTMARE OR DREAM COME TRUE?

Chapter 1

Alex walked along the path with the other day campers. It was supposed to be a week filled with fun. But it was only the second day and he wasn’t feeling well. He could feel his bowels churning and he knew he needed the bathroom. He thought he might be able to hold until he got home later that afternoon. He had developed an aversion to going number two in public bathrooms. He was petrified of others judging him for something that literally every human being does. Alex was determined to tough it out and avoid the anxiety.

Throughout the morning, his stomach felt like a rollercoaster. He tried to act like nothing was wrong in front of the other campers, but his guts felt howling. The walked along the path through the trees until they reached an area where an archery range had been set up. Archery had been one of the activities that had excited him the most. It was just his luck. The activity he wanted to do most landed on the day he didn’t feel well. He tried to suck it up and block his intestinal anguish from his mind. It was now his turn. A fellow camper handed him the bow. A pile of arrows lay on the ground next to his feet. He bent down to pick one up and that’s when it happened. Alex lost all control and could not prevent the mess from filling his pants. His mind was screaming, but he tried to remain calm and act as if nothing had happened. He grabbed an arrow and straightened up. Maybe no one would notice, but everyone noticed. Before he could nock the arrow, his camp leader approached him. Now he noticed the other kids were pointing and snickering. “He just shit his pants like a baby!” Alex was mortified and the tears started to flow.

“Let’s get you back and try to get you cleaned up,” the camp leader said taking him by the hand. “Make sure to put the baby back in diapers!” The other boys were relentless, and all Alex could do was cry and be led away like a messy toddler. The camp leader was a teenage girl which of course only added to his embarrassment. He was going to be ten years old that summer and now he felt like his life was over. He would never live this down. He wanted the earth to open up and swallow him up. He couldn’t control his sobbing. The jeers and the laughter faded as a new voice started to echo in his ears. “It’s ok. You are alright, everything is ok. Wake up!”

Alex bolted awake. He felt tears rolling down his cheeks. His new bride was trying to console him, “It was just a bad dream sweetheart. It’s all over now.” Still a bit, disoriented he tried to calm himself down. Anytime he thought about that day when he was kid, that embarrassment and mortification welled up within him. It had been nearly twenty years since it happened and he had never told anyone about it. But it still haunted him. His wife of all of two weeks was being so kind and sweet. She was stroking his hair, trying to comfort him, when she noticed the smell. “Oh Alex, sweetheart, I think you had an accident. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” Alex had been so lost in the memory of his nightmare that he didn’t notice the state of his pajama bottoms. He felt the warmth around his crotch, but then he noticed the mess in his underwear. “Can you stand up for me sweetheart?” The panic and embarrassment he felt all those years ago welled with in him once again.

He stood sobbing, unable to move while she stripped the bed. “Looks like we caught it before it seeped into the mattress. It’s ok Alex. Accidents happen.” Emily had never seen him this upset before and her heart ached to see him so emotional. She grabbed his hand and led him into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He was paralyzed by the intensity of his emotions and it was clear he needed her help. She helped him out of his t-shirt and wet pajama pants, leaving him in his messy and sodden white briefs. He closed his eyes and remembered standing in the bathroom stall trying to clean himself up as his camp leader scrounged for clothing. All she had found a was an oversized t-shirt that fit him like a dress. His soiled clothes were placed in a trash bag. He felt the icy stares of all his fellow campers as he walked to the car with his parents who had came to take him home early.

“Ok, lets get these messy undies off.” Emily gingerly pulled his underwear down, hoping to keep his mess contained. As she slid them down to his ankles, he carefully stepped out of them without making a big mess. “Good boy. Let’s just throw these away. We can always get more.”

Did she just say ‘good boy’ like he was a big dumb baby? But then he remembered that his bride literally helped him out of his shit filled underwear. He looked at her and her face expressed nothing but love and concern for him. “God, Emily I’m so sorry. This has never, ever happened to me. I swear. Please believe me. Jesus, I’m so embarrassed. I bet you didn’t imagine having to do this when we took our vows.”

“Alex. It’s not the end of the world. I don’t love you any less. Like I said accidents happen. Now, can you manage cleaning yourself up in the shower while I go put new sheets on the bed?” Alex nodded and stepped into the shower. The warm water helped him to start to regain his composure. After cleaning himself up, he hopped out and grabbed the towel Emily had left on the bathroom counter. Wrapping it around his waist, he walked back to the bedroom where his beautiful bride sat waiting for him on the bed. She had laid out new pajamas for him. After getting dressed, he was ready to climb back into bed. As he pulled back the covers, he noticed that a large towel had been draped across his side of the bed. “Before you get upset, this is just for precaution. Ok?”

Alex sighed. “I understand.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

She gave him a quizzical look, “For what?”

“For taking care of me. I feel really embarrassed and you were very sweet. So I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”

“Oh sweetheart. Anything to help my sweet, handsome man. I love you.” And with that she turned off the lights as the couple attempted to drift back to sleep.

[ladyeyrewrites]

Bun in the Oven

Rated M

Chapter 3/4

2990 Words

Chapter three of trans!Tommy mpreg 8x07 rewrite

Read from Chapter One

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

Tommy was definitely pregnant.

Eight weeks as far as the doctor could tell from the ultrasound.

But Buck couldn’t let himself feel excited. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them, not when Tommy seemed so scared, so likely to decided to terminate the pregnancy. So many times in his life he’d set himself up for disappointment by failing to manage his expectations and he wasn’t about to do that again. Because that would bring about an even worse heartbreak than Tommy suddenly deciding that Buck was incapable of being happy with Tommy long term and ending things without so much as a by your leave. Letting himself picture a life with Tommy and their kid only for it to be snatched away before it could come to fruition would break Buck and he knew it.

So, he tried not to get excited. Tried not to anticipate anything at all.

After the appointment, they sat in the Jeep together. Tommy stared at the ultrasound printout, at the blurry little blob that had just started to develop limbs and discernible eyes and ears.

“What do you want to do?” Buck asked.

“I want to think,” said Tommy, on the edge of snappishness.

“I know that,” said Buck. He wasn’t expecting Tommy to come to a decision right away. It made sense that he’d want to weigh his options. “I meant, do you want to go home or back to my place?”

Tommy sighed. “I need to get the truck, and then I want to go home. I think I need space to make this decision.”

“Okay,” said Buck. “And just so you know, I’ll support whatever choice you make, just please don’t disappear on me. I don’t think I could take that.”

Tommy nodded. “I’ll call you,” he said. “Once I’ve figured things out.”

“You’d better,” said Buck. “And we still need to have a proper conversation.”

“I know.” Tommy scrubbed a hand over his face. “One thing at a time though, okay?”

“Okay,” said Buck.

#

“So, how’d things go with Tommy?” Maddie asked over the phone as Buck was getting ready for bed.

“Not sure yet,” said Buck. “We were able to talk about some things, but not everything.”

“Think you’ll get back together?” Maddie asked.

Buck grimaced and flopped down on his bed. His bed that Tommy had slept in the night before, leaving that glorious scent of his all over Buck’s sheets. The healthy thing would be to wash the sheets, eliminating Tommy’s scent, but Buck wasn’t feeling particularly healthy. “I don’t know,” he said. “There’s still stuff we gotta talk through. I just – what if he runs away again?” Despite Tommy having promised not to run, Buck couldn’t help but fear he would, because that’s what people did: they left.

Maddie sighed. “Are you sure it’s worth getting your hopes up, Buck?”

It was Buck’s turn to sigh. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I think I’ll regret it if I don’t try.” And that was true. No matter what choice Tommy made, Buck would always wonder about the might-have-beens if he didn’t tell Tommy he wanted to try again. Maybe with couples’ therapy. Scratch that; they were definitely going to counselling if they got back together. But that would have to wait until Tommy made a choice. “But the ball’s in Tommy’s court right now.”

“Okay,” said Maddie. “I hope it works out. I just don’t want you to get hurt more than you already are. I think that you have to trust the universe is gonna bring you a special person. Whether that’s Tommy or someone else.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” he said. Although Buck was beginning to wonder if maybe part of his problem was that he trusted the universe too much. Bobby had said a while ago that he kept letting relationships happen to him rather than taking an active role in them, and he’d tried to fix that with Tommy. Maybe he’d tried to force it into something it wasn’t, but sitting back and waiting for things to fall into place just seemed like the wrong move.

They chatted a bit more about Jee and Maddie’s day at work before hanging up.

Buck lay awake most of that night, drowning in Tommy’s scent, dreaming of a future together despite himself.

#

Buck had been worried that he wouldn’t be able to play it cool on shift the next day. That was part of the reason why he spent the morning in the kitchen, prepping lunch – more baking.

“All right, guys, lunch is up.” He pulled the baked ziti out of the oven.

“Smells amazing,” said Hen. “What are we having?”

“Fresh-baked garlic bread, baked ziti, and bread pudding for dessert,” Buck said as the team gathered around to get a whiff of the food. He was too pre-occupied thinking about Tommy and what he was thinking about to relish in the praise the team heaped on him.

“Since when did you become a master baker?” Eddie asked.

“Uh, when Tommy dumped me,” said Buck. “Now, whenever I feel tempted to reach out to him, I just—”

“Bake?” Eddie finished his sentence.

And it was still true, only now it was because Buck wanted to give Tommy the space to make the decision, he needed to make without feeling like Buck was pressuring him in any direction.

“I know, it, uh, it sounds dumb,” said Buck taking in his teammate’s faces.

“It’s not dumb,” said Bobby. “You found a coping skill to deal with cravings. We do the same thing in recovery.”

Bobby patted Buck on the back while Buck tried to come up with words to describe what he was feeling without giving the game away. “Well, I don’t feel anywhere near recovered,” he said. “What I feel is a tractor beam pulling me towards my phone to see if he’s texted me.” Buck gestured towards his phone with one hand as he carried the tray of garlic bread over to the table.

Hen and Eddie followed after him with bowls and plates to set the table.

“I know that feeling,” said Eddie. “Stay strong, man.” Which actually didn’t make any sense to Buck unless Eddie was talking about Shannon because he’d been pretty brutal in booting Ana out of his life and Buck hadn’t seen any pining for Marisol or Kim coming from Eddie’s camp, not with the Christopher of it all hanging over his head.

Buck sighed and grabbed up his phone from the table and happened to catch the text bubbles in his chat with Tommy. Something caught his eye: three little bubbles at the bottom of the chat. “Oh, my God,” he didn’t mean to say out loud. What if Tommy was texting to tell him he’d come to a decision? Buck stared at his phone, waiting for a text to come through.

“What?” Hen asked.

“He’s bubbling me,” said Buck, not sure if that was a phrase he just made up or not. “Tommy’s bubbling me right now.”

“So, what did he say?” Hen asked as she and Eddie gathered around Buck.

Buck kept staring at the screen. It seemed too soon for Tommy to have decided, and Buck didn’t know what that meant. Did it take longer to decide to keep a pregnancy or to get rid of it? He had no idea.

The chat bubbles kept bubbling away.

And then they vanished. “They went away,” said Buck. “I don’t get it.” Had Tommy not made a choice after all? Or had he decided it was a conversation he didn’t want to have over text? But Buck couldn’t let on that he knew why Tommy was texting him, so he added. “Why would he type, type, type and then not send anything?” He looked between Hen and Eddie as if they could possibly know.

“Maybe he just changed his mind,” said Hen in that annoyingly calm and soothing tone she used on him when he was being over-the-top.

“You think I should call him, right?” Buck asked. Because what if something had happened while Tommy was typing, and he’d dropped his phone and wasn’t able to finish whatever he’d been typing.

“Definitely not,” said Hen returning to the table.

“What if he’s in trouble and he needs my help?” Buck asked. That didn’t seem too out of the ordinary a thing for him to ask right? That wouldn’t immediately point to Buck being worried that maybe Tommy was having a miscarriage or something right now? It was perfectly normal to be worried about his ex whom he’d thought was his endgame only a couple weeks ago.

“That’s probably not it,” said Eddie. But what did he know?

“Yeah, I’m gonna call,” said Buck. He closed out of the text chain and went to press the call button on Tommy’s contact card.

And then Eddie snatched his phone straight out of his hands. “Sorry, can’t let you do that, buddy.” Eddie put his hands behind his back and passed Buck’s phone to Hen

“Okay. Come on, give it back,” said Buck, trying to keep an even temper. “Come on, give it back. I’m serious.”

“It’s for your own good,” said Hen, tossing his phone to Eddie again.

And a surge of anger roared through Buck. while his friends played keep away because what if Tommy needed him? What if something had happened? What if they broke his phone and Tommy wasn’t able to get a hold of Buck?

“Guys, give it back, I mean it,” he snapped and something in his tone must have alerted his friends to the fact that he was very much not amused because Eddie gave his phone back looking chastened.

“Sorry, man, just trying to keep you from making a mistake.”

“Oh, so you think me actually trying to get some closure on a relationship I really wanted to work is a mistake?” Buck asked.

Eddie flinched. “No,” he said. “If that’s what you need and something Tommy can give you, that’s great.”

“We just don’t want you to get hurt again, Buck,” said Hen in her mom voice which Buck didn’t usually take issue with but right now it grated on his nerves.

“You guys do know I’m thirty-three, right?” he asked. “That I’ve actually been in serious relationships before, and I know how to have an adult conversation with an ex?”

His friends wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“If I want to call Tommy, I’ll call him. But right now, I’m giving him some space because that’s what I told him I’d do when I saw him yesterday.”

“Wait, you saw Tommy yesterday?” Chim, who’d been remarkably absent from the conversation, asked. “I thought it was the day before. That’s why we had to take a rain check on dinner.”

Buck sighed. “Yeah, I saw him both days,” he said. This conversation was getting away from him.

“You didn’t, you know,” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Did you?”

“No, we did not sleep together,” said Buck. “He came over. We talked. It got late and so we continued the conversation the next day. We’re not back together.”

“Do you want to be?” Bobby asked.

Buck hesitated before nodding. “Yeah, but if Tommy says he doesn’t then I gotta respect that, right? You can’t exactly make a relationship work if only one side even wants to be in a relationship.”

Bobby nodded.

And at that moment, Chief Simpson appeared wanting a word with Bobby, but Buck was too preoccupied thinking about Tommy to worry about that. He did reconsider calling Tommy though. If he’d come to a decision about the pregnancy, he probably didn’t want to have that conversation while Buck was at the firehouse, and they could be overheard.

Waiting until he was off shift to text though was agony.

#

Buck found himself scooping out cookie dough after his shift ended and he’d texted to see if Tommy was okay. His phone rang and for a moment he hoped it was Tommy, but no, it was Maddie. Not that he wasn’t glad to talk to his sister, but she’d probably ask him about Tommy, and he didn’t have the energy to talk around the truth or lie to her right now.

“You weren’t baking, were you?” Maddie asked.

“Uh, no,” said Buck. “Not technically yet. Did Chim tell you?”

“The gift basket full of baked goods you sent home with him may have tipped me off,” said Maddie “And whatever you’re doing that’s not technically baking, you need to stop, cuz you have plans.”

Buck sighed. “Plans? Uh, what are you talking about?” he kept scooping cookie dough.

“Remember when I told you that the universe was gonna send a special person your way?” Someone knocked on the door as Maddie spoke.

Buck wiped off his hands and picked up the phone. He really did not have the bandwidth to deal with his sister setting him up with someone right now, not with everything going on. Not that Maddie knew about any of that, though. “A blind date? Maddie, I’m not ready for that yet. One second.” He answered the door, thinking he’d find Tommy there only for it to turn out to be Maddie, Chim, and Jee.

“Here she is,” said Maddie with a grin. Gesturing to Jee who smiled up at him in multi-coloured cardigan and a tea shirt with flowers printed on it.

Chimney was smiling too, but more in a way that said he was just trying to humour Maddie and wasn’t entirely sure if this was a good idea or not.

“Well, when you said special person, you didn’t say the most special person in the whole entire world,” Buck said, squatting to scoop Jee up into his arms. Because he could most definitely free up the bandwidth to spend time with his niece, no matter what was going on. “Come here, Jee. Oh, I got you.”

“We’ll be back by ten,” said Maddie.

“Jee, take care of your Uncle Buck,” said Chim.

And then they fled back down the hallway before Buck could protest.

“Okay,” said Buck, fully immersing himself in uncle mode. “I have been making cookie dough. So do you want chocolate chip, peanut butter, or snickerdoodle?” He plopped Jee on a mostly clean portion of the counter.

“I want all of them,” Jee declared.

“What?” Buck feigned surprise. “That’s the perfect answer.” And they got to work, all the while Buck mused about what it would be like for Jee to have a little cousin or what it would be like to bake cookies with his own kid someday – maybe even someday soon. He let himself indulge the fantasy while he showed Jee how to scoop the dough and place it on the cookie sheet.

They’d just finished scooping out the last of the cookie dough onto oven trays when there was a knock on the door. “Just a sec,” Buck called as he opened the oven and slid the cookie trays inside. He hurriedly set a timer on his phone before lifting Jee off the counter onto his hip and crossing to the door. It was too early for it to be Maddie and Chimney. Maybe it was Eddie come to check up on him after their shift.

And there was Tommy standing in his doorway for the second time that week. “Hey,” said Buck. “I thought you were going to call.”

Tommy shrugged. “I didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone or text.”

Buck didn’t think that sounded hopeful. “Okay, but it’s going to have to wait a bit.” He hefted Jee who squirmed to be put down. Buck obliged and she wrapped her arms around Tommy’s legs. “Tom Tom!”

“I didn’t know you were on Jee duty,” said Tommy, smiling broadly and ruffling Jee’s hair.

“Neither did I until Maddie and Chim dropped her off,” said Buck. It was crazy to him how despite everything going on – the break-up, the pregnancy, the uncertainty – being in the same room with Tommy calmed Buck down, grounded him. God, he wanted so badly to hold onto that feeling.

“I can come back later if you want,” said Tommy.

“No, it’s fine,” said Buck. “They’re just going to dinner. Should only be a couple hours.”

“You’re sure?” Tommy asked.

Buck lifted an eyebrow.

Tommy held up his hands in defeat. “Okay, yeah, I won’t question your feelings anymore.”

“Good,” said Buck. “Now, who wants cookie dough?” The last bit was directed more towards Jee than Tommy.

“Me!” Jee raised her hand and ran back towards the kitchen island.

“Probably shouldn’t what with the raw eggs and all,” said Tommy. He made a vague gesture towards his stomach that gave Buck a burst of hope. Surely, Tommy wouldn’t be thinking about the foetus’s health if he was planning to terminate the pregnancy?

But Buck shouldn’t get ahead of himself. Shouldn’t jump to conclusions. “No eggs,” he said. He’d gotten in the habit of setting aside some of his mixture before adding in eggs so that it’d be safe to eat – another break-up habit he’d thought only existed in Tommy’s favourite romcoms.

“I guess I’ll give some a try,” said Tommy, smiling at Jee.

Buck went to the freezer and grabbed the cookie dough while Tommy silently started cleaning up from Buck and Jee’s baking session. And it felt so lovely and domestic, and it made Buck yearn for that future he’d laid out to Tommy the night of the break-up: moving in together, getting married, having kids.

And he’d never felt closer to that dream or further from it. And even though he loved every moment he got to spend with Jee, for once he couldn’t wait for Maddie and Chim to come pick his niece up so that he and Tommy could talk. Not scream at each other or have a single-sided conversation – actually talk and listen.

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