#as in should I stay here at my parents? maybe stay once or twice a week? is that too much or not enough? what do?

[brunchable]

Under The Mistletoe | B. B.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x F! Reader Themes: Fake relationship, forced proximity, enemies-to-lovers(ish), rom-com Summary: When your meddling family won’t stop asking about you love life, you roped your arch-nemesis Bucky into pretending to be your boyfriend for Christmas dinner at your parents house. It was pay back for the massive favor he owes you, so he had no choice but to agree. A/N : This oneshot is part of my 4K Follower christmas themed celebration. I hope you enjoy this first one! Thank you so much for reading my stories! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The smell of pine and cinnamon wafts through the air as you adjust the cuffs of your sweater, glaring at the man currently making himself at home in your parents’ living room. James Buchanan Barnes—your nemesis, your tormentor, the human equivalent of a lump of coal—lounges on the couch like he’s been a part of your family for years. Your mom already adores him.

“James, more eggnog?” she chirps, holding out a festive mug.

“Of course,” Bucky replies with a smile so charming, you almost believe it’s real. Almost.

You, on the other hand, are clinging to your sanity by the thinnest strand of tinsel. He’s only here because he owes you. Big time. And because your family won’t stop asking when you’ll finally settle down and find someone “worth bringing home for Christmas.”

When you roped Bucky into this charade, you expected the bare minimum. A few fake smiles. Maybe holding your hand once or twice. What you did not expect was him waltzing in here, winning over your family, and actually knowing things about you.

“Y/N hates marshmallows in her hot chocolate,” Bucky says smoothly, stopping your dad mid-scoop. “She’s all about the whipped cream.”

You freeze in the doorway, clutching a tray of cookies like a lifeline. How does he know that? You never even told him that. Your dad raises an eyebrow at you, impressed, while you try to recover from the shock.

“Right,” you stammer, narrowing your eyes at Bucky. “Because you’re so attentive.”

He smirks, the twinkle in his eye more annoying than any Christmas light you’ve ever seen. “It’s a gift.”

× × × ×

The cozy living room, aglow with soft Christmas lights, feels oppressively warm. Not because of the crackling fire or the wool socks your mom forced everyone to wear, but because Bucky’s presence next to you is positively suffocating. His thigh, firm and annoyingly warm, is pressed against yours, and every time he shifts, your nerves jolt like a live wire.

“You’re twitching again,” Bucky murmurs under his breath, leaning closer so his lips almost brush your ear. “Relax. If you keep acting like this, your mom’s going to think I broke your heart or something.”

“Maybe I should tell her you’re insufferable, so she kicks you out,” you snap, voice low enough not to disturb the room. Your family is fully engrossed in Elf, but you swear Bucky’s gaze burns hotter than the fire.

“Go ahead,” he whispers back, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m her favorite now, you know.”

You resist the urge to stab him with the candy cane you’ve been holding for the last ten minutes. Instead, you muster your sweetest fake smile and clap your hands. “Well, Mom, it’s getting late, and I think Bucky has a long drive ahead of him—”

Your mom, standing with a tray of cookies like some sort of Christmas matriarch, freezes mid-step. 

“What?” she exclaims, her eyes wide and full of betrayal. “You’re not staying, Bucky? But I prepared Y/N’s room for the two of you!”

The room goes dead silent.

Bucky’s head swivels toward you so fast, you hear a faint crack. 

“She didn’t tell me about that,” he says, his voice strangled with barely concealed panic. He offers you a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t know we’d be, uh, bunking together.”

You grit your teeth, your face burning hotter than the fireplace. “That’s because I didn’t know,” you hiss, shooting a glare at your mom that could melt Frosty the Snowman.

“How could you make your boyfriend drive all the way out here just to send him back into the snow?” your mom demands, hands on her hips like a Christmas tyrant. “Absolutely not. He’s staying. Come on, Bucky, I’ll show you two to your room.”

“Our room?” you squeak, but your mom is already bustling out of the room, and Bucky, to your utter horror, is rising from the couch to follow her.

He pauses just long enough to lean down and mutter, “This just got a whole lot more interesting, sweetheart.” The grin he flashes is wolfish, and you resist the urge to throttle him with your flannel sleeve.

The room is straight out of a Hallmark Christmas special. The fireplace is lit, the bed is perfectly made with a festive quilt and decorative pillows, and the faint smell of pine fills the air. There’s even mistletoe hanging in the corner, mocking you.

Bucky steps in, glancing around, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and terror. 

“Wow,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Cozy.”

Your mom claps her hands together, beaming. “I knew you two would love it. Oh, and don’t worry, honey, I put the extra pillows in the closet in case you need them.” She winks at you, winks, before spinning on her heel and leaving you to your doom.

The moment the door clicks shut, you whirl on Bucky. “Don’t say a word.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk tugging at his lips betrays him. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, doll,” he drawls, wandering over to the bed and plopping down on it like he owns the place. He stretches out, arms behind his head, and sighs dramatically. “Comfy. We’re gonna have a great night.”

You stare at him, horrified. “You’re sleeping on the floor.”

He raises an eyebrow, patting the quilt beside him. “I don’t think your mom would approve.”

You throw a decorative pillow at his face, which he catches with infuriating ease. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault? You’re the one who dragged me here.”

“You owed me!”

“And I’m paying you back,” he says with a grin, tossing the pillow back at you. “With interest, apparently.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

Bucky leans forward, his grin softening just a touch. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just one night. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Somehow, that promise doesn’t reassure you in the slightest. You glare at him one last time before grabbing a blanket from the closet and stomping to the couch by the fireplace.

“Where are you going?” he calls after you.

“To sleep.”

“Suit yourself.” 

You don’t have to look to know he’s smirking again. You grab another pillow and resist the urge to launch it at his stupidly handsome face.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

× × × ×

The fire had long since died, leaving the room shrouded in a cold that no amount of decorative holiday cheer could banish. You’d been curled up on the couch under a threadbare blanket that smelled faintly of cinnamon and humiliation for hours, but now you were shivering so hard you were worried your teeth might chatter loud enough to wake the whole house.

You shot a death glare at Bucky, sprawled out on the bed like a smug prince in his flannel pajamas, the quilt pulled up to his chin. The nerve of him actually letting you sleep on the couch while he hogged the bed like he didn’t owe you his very existence—or at least this ridiculous favor.

Finally, when your toes felt like icicles and you were seriously debating setting your pride on fire just to warm up, you caved. You untangled yourself from the blanket, muttering curses under your breath, and tiptoed toward the bed.

It would have been stealthy. It would have been smooth. Except your foot made direct, agonizing contact with the solid oak footboard.

Pain exploded through your toe, and you bit back a screech so feral you probably looked like a Christmas banshee. Instead, you crumpled to the floor, clutching your foot and mouthing a stream of silent profanities that would make Santa's naughty list blush.

“Mother F—!” you hissed at yourself, wincing as you hobbled the rest of the way to the bed. You crawled onto the empty side like some kind of injured burglar, trying to be as silent as possible. Your toe throbbed in time with your heartbeat, but you focused on one thing: the warm cocoon of blankets just inches away.

Finally, you slid under the covers, sighing as the heat from the quilt enveloped you. Bliss. Sweet, sweet bliss. Maybe Bucky wouldn’t even notice—

“Could’ve just asked, you know.”

You nearly launched yourself out of the bed in shock, your heart leaping into your throat. “What the—!” you whisper-screeched, clutching the quilt to your chest.

Bucky’s voice, low and laced with amusement, drifted through the darkness. “I was awake the whole time.”

“You—!” Words failed you as your face burned with embarrassment. “Then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I was curious how far you’d go before giving up.” You could hear the grin in his voice.

“You’re the worst.”

“Debatable. I didn’t laugh when you stubbed your toe.”

“You heard that?!”

“Sweetheart, I think the neighbours heard that.” His shoulders shook with silent laughter as you stared at him, outraged.

“I hate you,” you snapped, yanking the quilt tighter around you and turning your back on him.

But before you could stew in your annoyance, you felt a hand reach over and pull part of the blanket from you, wrapping it snugly around your side. You froze as his voice softened, amusement fading.

“Relax. I don’t bite. Unless you’re still mad about the couch.”

“I am.”

“Noted.” He shifted, and his voice dropped lower, warmer. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You turned over, your curiosity finally getting the better of you. Facing Bucky’s silhouette in the faint moonlight streaming through the window, you squinted at him. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

He exhaled softly, like he’d been waiting for you to ask. Without a word, he reached over and flicked on the small lamp on his side of the bed, filling the room with a soft golden glow. The shadows on his face softened, and he turned to face you fully, propping his head up on his hand.

“I’m not used to a soft, warm, comfortable bed,” he said simply, his voice low and quiet.

That wasn’t the answer you expected. “Why not?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

Bucky’s gaze flickered to the blanket between you before settling back on your face. “I usually sleep on the floor.”

Your jaw dropped. “The floor? Why?”

He shrugged like it was no big deal, like it didn’t hurt to admit. “I have a bed,” he said casually, “but… being uncomfortable has kind of become my normal.”

Your heart sank at his admission. The way he said it—so matter-of-factly, like he didn’t even consider it strange—made something in your chest tighten. You swallowed hard, trying to shove down the wave of sympathy threatening to show on your face.

“Oh,” you said, clearing your throat, but it came out too soft, too affected. You forced yourself to straighten up, busying your hands by tucking the quilt tighter around you. “Well, uh… this bed uncomfortably soft, so, lucky you?”

You wanted to kick yourself for how awkward that sounded. But he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he just chuckled, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. 

“Yeah, lucky me.”

The room fell into silence, save for the soft crackle of the dying embers in the fireplace. You tried to avoid his gaze, but something in the room caught your eye, and you froze.

Dangling right above the headboard, in plain sight, was a sprig of mistletoe. The ribbon holding it swayed slightly, mocking you with its festive cheer.

Your brain scrambled. How had you missed that earlier? Why on earth was it there? Did mom hang it on purpose? Of course she did! That woman was a menace.

You could feel Bucky’s gaze lingering on you, and your heart thumped louder with each passing second. You knew it was only a matter of time before he noticed the stupid sprig of mistletoe dangling above the headboard, so you needed to distract him.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, his brow quirking up in suspicion as he started to turn his head.

“Nothing!” you yelped, throwing the quilt over your face in a panic. “Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Goodnight!”

For a second, there was silence. Then, the soft creak of the bed as Bucky shifted, his voice low and amused. “Wait a second…”

You could practically hear the smirk spreading across his face as realization dawned.

“Oh, would you look at that.”

Your stomach flipped as you slowly peeked out from under the quilt. Sure enough, Bucky was staring right at the mistletoe, his lips curving into the most maddeningly smug grin you’d ever seen.

“Mistletoe,” he said, his tone practically dripping with glee. “Right above our heads. What are the odds, huh?”

“Coincidence,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket back over your face.

He chuckled, his voice warm and teasing. “You know what they say about mistletoe, don’t you?”

“Don’t,” you groaned, your voice muffled by the quilt.

“Oh, but I think I have to,” he replied, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “It’s tradition, after all.”

You peeked out again, glaring at him. “It’s not tradition if we just pretend it doesn’t exist.”

He tilted his head, mock-pondering. “Hmm. Ignoring it feels a little… Grinch-like, don’t you think? And you wouldn’t want to ruin Christmas, would you?”

“I swear to God, Bucky—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, his face closer than you expected, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “What? Afraid you might enjoy it?”

You scoffed, your heart racing. “As if.”

You could practically feel your heart trying to escape your chest as Bucky inched closer, the infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was something else there too—something warmer, more intent.

“Oh, so it wouldn’t bother you at all?” he teased, his smirk widening. “Not even a little kiss?”

“Not in a million years,” you shot back, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his grin softening, “you’re shaking. Maybe it would bother you.”

“Bucky—”

But you never got to finish. And just then, he leaned forward and kissed your lips. Warm, masculine lips were pressed to yours. It wasn’t rushed or teasing—it was warm, gentle, and infuriatingly confident. Like he’d been waiting for this. Like he wasn’t the least bit surprised by how perfectly your lips fit together.

Your initial plan was to push him away—firmly, dramatically, maybe even with a good shove to his ridiculously broad chest—but your brain short-circuited the moment his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. Instead, you melted into him, your traitorous body leaning closer without permission.

It was supposed to be a simple, obligatory mistletoe kiss. But the way he kissed you made the world tilt, his lips moving with a deliberate tenderness that made your stomach somersault. He felt you quiver beneath his touch, but he wanted to comfort you—his tongue delved your mouth slowly and you parted your lips willingly and welcomed him. This was enough encouragement for Bucky; he sucked your tongue sensually, and you nibbled his lower lip.

Every kiss he gave felt like a slow unravelling and intense, as if he was savouring the act as much as the reaction it drew from you. Bucky’s fingers traced along your jaw, tilting your face toward him with a tender authority that left no room for hesitation. His thumb brushed over your cheek in a soothing rhythm, contrasting with the heat and urgency of his lips. When he pulled back, his eyes locked with yours—dark with desire, soft with something unspoken—before he leaned in again, claiming your mouth once more.

You let him in, your lips parting as his tongue slipped past, tangling with yours again in an unhurried, sensuous dance that sent shivers down your spine. He tilted his head, exploring every curve of your mouth, his kisses leaving a heated trail that set your skin ablaze. Your lips found their way to his jawline, pressing soft kisses along his stubble, the faint roughness amplifying the sensitivity of your own. When you returned to his lips, the hunger in his kiss mirrored your own as you teased his tongue with yours, your movements bold and enticing.

The shift in your energy didn’t go unnoticed. You felt him tense, his restraint hanging by a thread as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing into yours. His hands gripped your waist, anchoring you in place as his kisses became hungrier, pulling quiet moans and ragged breaths from you. The sound of your pleasure seemed to fuel him, his control slipping further as he pressed closer, his arousal hard and insistent against your thigh, a tangible reminder of the tension thrumming between you. Every kiss, every touch, felt like a declaration, his desire spilling over and igniting something equally fierce in you.

When he pulled back it almost felt like he had to force himself to but he stayed close, his forehead almost brushing yours. His eyes searched your face, his smirk gone, replaced by something quieter, something more serious.

“Well,” he said softly, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it, “guess the mistletoe’s not so bad after all.”

You blinked, your breath hitching. “Have I told you I hate you?”

“And yet, here we are,” he teased, though his smirk was softer now, his thumb still brushing your cheek like he hadn’t realized he was still holding you.

You pushed his hand away—gently, because you were not going to think about how good it felt—and flopped back against the pillows, groaning into the quilt. 

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not,” he said with a chuckle, settling back onto his side of the bed. “Just a harmless little kiss. Totally meaningless.”

You peeked out from under the quilt to glare at him, but the way he was looking at you—soft, amused, and maybe a little too smug—made your pulse spike all over again.

“Goodnight, Barnes,” you muttered, burrowing back into the covers, determined to ignore the way your lips still tingled.

“Goodnight, doll,” he replied, his voice warm with amusement—and something else you didn’t want to think about.

The room fell quiet again, save for the faint crackle of the dying fire. But as you lay there, trying and failing to stop replaying the kiss in your head, you realized one thing: mistletoe was officially the most dangerous Christmas decoration of all time.

tags: @lomlbuckybarnes @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff @unaxv @carnal-vogue @bmyva1entine @wheredidiputmyfish

@thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @wanda-widow @filmologetica @awaywithtime @Thealyrs

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @winchestert101 @strawberrybisou @unaxv @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fynnwolff @veronicapaula

[cumonstevie]

Home Sweet Home Part 3

Summary: "It's good to be home," you think as you arrive back in Hawkins, Indiana; not only three years older, but also as a mother.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Just a shit ton of fluff

A/N: This took 8 consecutive hours to write so I hope you guys like it!! It's 3.8k words 😬 my back hurts from slouching over my laptop for so long so I'll edit this later.

A year and a half later

You and Steve have been doing so well at co-parenting for Penelope thus far. You had slowly eased Steve into her life, and she happily accepted him. It took her a while to comfortably call him ‘dad’ but once she started, that’s practically all she could say.

Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the day when she confidently called him ‘dad’ without him or you having to tell her.

It was late at night- well, it was late for Penelope to still be awake, and you were trying everything to put her to sleep but she wouldn’t stop crying.

“Shhh, Penny, it’s okay.” You try to comfort her in your arms.

Her cries echo off your newly purchased apartment and you groan, rocking the toddler to try and calm her down.

Spoiler alert: It didn’t work.

“Baby, please calm down-”

“I want daddy!” She cries louder and you halt your movements.

“What?”

“I want daddy!” Penelope sobs in your arms.

“I-” You’re stunned for a moment because this was the first-time hearing Penelope call Steve ‘daddy’ on her own without you or him coaxing her to say it. “Daddy will come over tomorrow, okay? But you need to go-”

“No!” She yelled, “I want daddy now!”

It didn’t seem like she was going to let up any time soon, so you walk over to the phone and hastily dial Steve’s number. It was only 8 o’clock so you knew he’d still be up- hopefully.

It rang twice before he picked up. “Hello?”

“Steve,” you breathed. “Thank god you’re still awake. Listen, I know it’s kinda last minute but Penelope won’t go to sleep and she keeps crying and asking for you so do you think you could maybe-”

“I’ll be there in a bit. Leave the door unlocked for me, yeah?” You could hear him moving around at his place, probably putting his shoes on.

“Okay, thank you so much.” You let out a sigh of relief.

Penelope’s cries get louder and you think Steve can hear her because he murmurs, “My poor baby…” You hear his car keys jingling soon after. “I’m on my way.”

A few minutes go by and Steve knocks two times before coming in. You know he probably sped all the way over and you make a mental note to scold him after Penelope goes to sleep.

“I’m here,” he huffed out, seemingly out of breath.

Upon hearing Steve’s voice, Penelope lifts her head from your shoulder and turns to her father all teary-eyed. “Daddy!” She cried, leaning out of your arms and toward him.

He visibly freezes at her words and his eyes pan over to you, wide. “Did she just-” he’s cut off by your daughter's cries of ‘daddy’ as she tries to grab him. “Come here, baby. Daddy’s here, don’t worry, sweetheart.”

He rubs her back soothingly and she slowly lays her head on his shoulder, doing the little hiccup-sob combination as she starts to calm down.

“Daddy…” She cried, “Stay.”

“It’s okay, sweet girl.” He hushes. “Daddy’s not going anywhere, alright?”

This seems to ease her mind because a few minutes later, she’s fully asleep in his arms. You silently guide him to her room where you watch as he puts her down and tucks her in. She stirs a bit but Steve gently pats her chest and she stills.

Once the both of you were sure she wasn’t going to wake up, you exit her room and walk back to the living room. The moment you enter the room, Steve pulls you into a hug.

“She called me daddy.” He beamed happily. “She fucking called me daddy, oh my god I feel like my heart is gonna burst open, I’m so happy right now.”

You hug him back, giggling a bit. “Yeah, it surprised me too.”

The both of you stay like that for a bit before he tears himself away from you and checks the time.

“It’s getting late, I should head home.” He says with a bit of a frown. “I can come by tomorrow if it’s alright with you?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head. “You promised your daughter that you’d stay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

You tell him he can take your room and you’ll sleep on the couch, but he refuses and says he’ll sleep on the couch instead. You protest but he shuts it down and you let out a huff but say ‘okay’ before going to get him a spare pillow and blanket for the night. You had started easing Steve into Penelope’s life little by little, starting with him visiting her at your place whenever he could (which he made sure to visit every single day no matter what). After she was comfortable with him being around, you segued into him taking her out, whether it be to the park, or to get ice cream (you also tagged along so that she was more comfortable). From that, he started taking her out, just him and her and not too long after, she started staying the night at his house.

He had done up a spare bedroom at his place just for her and she loved it so much. He pulled out all the stops for his little girl. Telling his parents about Penelope was a bit rough. He told you that they were a bit skeptical about him being the father but when Steve whipped a picture of little Penelope out of his wallet and showed them, they went silent.

From there, they were disappointed that he was so careless that it resulted in a child. He told them that they could be mad at him all they want but that he has a daughter now and he’s stepping up and although he doesn’t have a great relationship with them, he would love it if Penelope did.

They were obviously a bit hesitant but after meeting Penelope, they let their guards down. It made Steve happy that they showered her with love and affection but it also made him a bit upset because he never really experienced that from them.

He felt like this was a turning point for them, though. A good turning point.

Today was Penelope’s 4th birthday party and Steve insisted that it should be at his house. You didn’t fight him on it. You figured his house would be better suited for a birthday party than your little apartment.

A knock on the door alerts your ears and you quickly glance into the backyard, seeing Steve run around with Penelope, before opening the front door.

“Sorry I’m late,” Eddie huffs out, “the band stayed and performed late and I didn’t get home till way later and then when I woke up I couldn’t remember where I put Pen’s gift so this whole morning I was tearing up my place looking for it.” He then shows you a poorly wrapped gift box with a smile. “But I found it.”

You giggle. “You didn’t miss much, Penny’s just been playing with the kids and Steve so far.”

“Thank god.” Eddie sighs. “Where do I put this?”

“We have a table outside for gifts. Come on.” You beckon him to follow you.

Eddie sets the gift on the table then makes his rounds saying hi to everyone. Steve is chasing Penelope around the yard and he lets out a playful roar as he picks her up and catches her. She screams and he laughs, giving her a kiss before setting her down carefully.

It was then that she spotted one of her favorite Uncle’s. “Uncle Eds!!”

The little girl runs over to Eddie as fast as she could, her pink tutu that she insisted on wearing even though it was cold outside, flowing about.

“Pen!” The curly-haired musician exclaimed as he knelt down and captured her in a hug. “How’s my favorite birthday girl?”

Penelope giggles. “Uncle Eds, I’m the only birthday girl!”

“You’re right.” He smiles before giving her a big kiss. “You’re getting so big, Pen. Don’t go growing up on me too fast.”

“Ima grow bigger and faster!”

“No! Don’t say that, I’ll cry!” Eddie pulls a dramatic frowny face which makes Penelope laugh.

Steve walks up beside you with his hands on his hips; a typical Steve Harrington pose. “Please tell her to stop saying that, she tells me all the time that she’s a big girl and it breaks my heart.”

Steve pouts at his daughter and she giggles in Eddie’s arms. “Daddy don’t be sad, when I get bigger ima take care of you!”

Steve’s eyebrow quirks up and he points a finger at her. “I’ll hold you to that, little lady.”

“She’s not getting bigger, not on my watch.” Eddie says as he squishes her in a hug. “I’m gonna squeeze you in a little box so you stay little forever!”

Penelope gasps. “No!”

“Yes!”

Penelope wiggles out of Eddie's grip and starts running away from him. “No! Never ever ever!”

Eddie runs after her, telling her that he’ll never let her grow up. You giggle, watching the two and Steve turns to you.

“Everyone here?” He asks.

“Yeah, Eds was the last one to show up.”

“Alright,” he nods. “I say we let her play for a little while longer then sing happy birthday?”

“I was thinking the same thing, Harrington.”

He points to his head, then to yours and says, “Great minds think alike, Y/L/N.”

It was fairly easy to slip back into your friendship with Steve. After the awkwardness of him finding out that Penelope was his, the two of you acted as if no time had passed. It was refreshing and you didn’t realize how much you missed being around him.

To say your feelings for Steve were gone, would be a lie. Your feelings for Steve never really went away. Even if you tried so very hard to leave them behind, they only grew more when Steve would play with Penelope or spend time with her in general. He adapted to his role as a father rather quickly and you weren’t going to lie, it was attractive.

You would never tell him, though. You didn’t want to ruin the dynamic that the two of you had. Everything, so far, was good.

You had tried going on a date a while back but it fell through once you told the guy that you had a child. Steve was very upset about it. The date had lasted less than an hour. You were having a good time, asking questions about each other when you mentioned you had a daughter. The guy’s demeanor changed quickly and he closed himself off. It was awkward after that. He confirmed that you had a daughter once more and when you said yes, he cleared his throat.

“Um, I’m sorry but I don’t think this is going to work out.” He says. “You’re a great girl but-”

“But me having a kid is a problem.” You finish his sentence in a mono-tone pitch.

“No!” The guys exclaimed. “It’s just- It’s kind of-”

He stumbles over his words, trying to save face but you shake your head and pull out money for your meal, placing it on the table.

“It’s fine. I know me having a child isn’t ideal but maybe you should try to at least be an adult about it.”

The guy scoffs. “I’m not about to play step-daddy to someone else’s kid.”

You roll your eyes and stand up. “Grow up.” You say before walking out.

You understand that dating someone who has a child could be a bit scary but he didn’t even give it a chance! He closed off the minute you mentioned Penelope.

You pull up to Steve’s house and slam your door shut in annoyance.

‘I’m not about to play step-daddy to someone else’s kid’

Get real.

You knock on the door and patiently wait for Steve to open it.

“Hey,” he says when he sees you on the other side. “Why are you here so early? I thought you had a date?”

“I did.” He can sense the annoyance in your voice and he moves aside to let you in. You put your purse down on his table and turn to face him. “He wasn’t too keen on the fact that I have a kid.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow and he’s about to ask what the dude said but it’s like you read his mind because you tell him.

“Said he’s not about to play step-daddy to a kid that’s somebody else’s.”

“What the hell?” He has a look of disgust flushed across his face.

“Yeah,” you nod. “He didn’t even wait a few minutes before he was telling me that it ‘wasn’t going to work out’ between us! The minute I mentioned Penny, he shut down.” You huff out, running your fingers through your now messy hair.

“What a dick!” Steve is visibly baffled. “Welcome to the real world! There’s a chance that you might date someone who has a kid!”

“Right?” You agree. “Like I get it, I’m young and I have a toddler and yeah that’s kind of scary but he didn’t even give it a chance!”

Steve’s hands are on his hips as he shakes his head. “God, what an asshole. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “Probably dodged a bullet anyway.”

“Definitely.”

“I’m never gonna date again. I’m gonna be lonely forever!” You groan.

“No you won’t,” Steve reassures as he pats your shoulder. “There’s someone out there who will want to be with you and doesn’t mind that you have a kid.”

“Suuuuuure,” you mumble. “When you find him, let me know, alright?”

Steve chuckled. “You got it, sweetheart.”

Penelope comes running into the room shortly after, practically leaping into your arms and you cradle her to you. She tells you that her and Steve are gonna watch movies all night long but both you and Steve know she’s most likely going to fall asleep in the middle of the first movie.

She asks if you’re going to stay and watch movies with them and Steve encourages you to do so.

“What, you’re gonna go home and sulk about what a crappy date this was? Nuh uh. Stay and watch movies with your family.” He tells you.

“Yeah!” Penelope adds. “Watch movies with family! Daddy got the movie with the kitties!”

Aristocats has been Penelope’s favorite movie recently.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay.”

Penelope is happy and the three of you move to the couch. Steve puts the movie in and Penny sits in between the two of you, knocking out exactly midway into the film.

Steve puts her in her room then comes back out, coaxing you to stay for another movie. It works and he pops in ‘Just One Of The Guys’. You two enjoy each other's company and toward the end of the movie, you and Steve are fast asleep on the couch.

You gathered everyone around the table that held the cake as Penelope climbed on top of the chair. Steve puts a pink birthday hat on her little head and she insists that both you and him put one on as well.

You oblige with her wishes and put a pink hat on. Jonathan wastes no time with taking pictures of the three of you. He’d develop them as soon as he could and give them to you.

Penelope’s eyes scanned the yard as she beamed happily at everyone. Both yours and Steve’s parents were there, the Party, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan- all in attendance for your daughter's fourth birthday party. Your heart swelled knowing all the people that were present loved your daughter just as much as you and Steve did.

You all sang happy birthday to Penelope and she blew out the candles, causing everyone to cheer.

“Wait!” She shouts with her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m still wishing!”

“Oh! Sorry, sweet girl. Everyone shhh!” Steve says.

Everyone quiets down and Penelope is heard murmuring underneath her breath but no one can make out what she’s saying. After a bit, she opens her eyes and smiles.

“I’m done!”

Everyone cheers again and you cut the cake and plate it while Steve hands them out. When Penelope’s done eating her slice of cake, you start opening the gifts.

“Okay, this one is from Uncle Dusty.” You hand her the gift and she tears it open excitedly.

“A tea party!!” She yells out happily, turning to her father. “Daddy, we can play tea party! Thank you, Uncle Dusty! You’re my favorite!”

Dustin tells the four-year-old that she’s welcome as he beamed at her words. Eddie, however, wasn’t taking it too well.

“What?!” He exclaimed. “What about me? I was your favorite earlier!”

Penelope giggles. “Uncle dusty gave me a tea party so he’s my favorite now!”

Eddie sulks as she continues to open her gifts and Dustin sticks his tongue out at the musician in a mocking manner. Not too long after, however, Penelope opens Eddie’s gift.

“Oh. My. Gosh.” She enunciated every word. “It’s a guitar!! Uncle Eds, it looks like the one you have!! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!!”

Although it was a toy guitar, you and Steve knew you would never know what silence felt like after this moment.

Steve rubs his face with his hands when he sees the gift. “Oh no…”

Penelope had been obsessed with Eddie’s guitar from the moment she saw it. She always wanted Eddie to play it and she always wanted to touch it. Eddie would tell you she was a musical prodigy in the making.

You and Steve give each other the same look before you say, “Say goodbye to the peacefulness.”

Steve groans while Penelope jumps up and down happily. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re my favorite now, Uncle Eds! We can play guitar together!!”

“Any time you want, Pen.” Eddie smiles at his niece before locking eyes with Dustin who stared at him with a blank face. Eddie mouths, “In your face!”

You finish up the gifts and the kids play with Penny for a little bit before you can tell that she’s beginning to get tired. You and Steve end the birthday party, thanking everyone for coming as they left. Once they were gone, Steve put Penelope down for a very much needed nap while you started picking up.

Steve joins you not too long after and when you’ve finished cleaning up, the pair of you slump down on the couch, exhausted.

“Penelope’s fourth birthday party was a success. Nice work, Y/L/N.” He raises his hand for a high-five, and you meet him halfway.

“Can’t take all the credit. You did most of the work.” You tell him.

“Yeah, but you gave birth to her. If you didn’t, we wouldn’t be here celebrating her turning four.” He smiles at you affectionately before his smile drops. “Oh my god, she’s four. My baby’s four.”

“Yep,” you nod. “And she’ll only get older from here.”

“Don’t remind me.” He pouts. “I want her to stay little forever.”

You laugh as he sulks for a bit. The two of you sit in silence and you close your eyes for a little before you feel Steve shift in his seat.

“Y/N?” He says and you open your eyes to find him facing you.

“Yeah?”

Steve bites his lip and his fingers tap against his jean-covered thigh. His habit every time he’s nervous.

“Um,” he starts. “We’ve been doing good, right? I mean, co-parenting and all.”

“Yeah…” You have no clue where this conversation is headed.

“And our relationship with each other is good. We don’t fight or argue or anything-”

“Steve,” you cut him off. “Spit it out already.”

You start to think he’s trying to ease into telling you that he was seeing someone, and you were preparing yourself to hear it, but his next words threw you off.

“I have feelings for you.” He says quickly and your eyebrows furrow as you sit up to look at him more clearly. “Well, I’ve always had feelings for you. They never went away. I just never said anything because you said you weren’t ready to revisit us romantically but, I don’t know, today just-” He sighs deeply, his fingers combing through his hair. “You look so beautiful today- well, you look beautiful every day and we work so well together that it got me thinking about what life would be like if we were, you know, together. As a couple.”

“Steve…”

“I know, okay? I know I fucked up back then and I know you’re hesitant but god, Y/N, you take up so much space in my head. You and Penny. That’s all I care about. That’s all I want and that’s all I’ll ever need. Ever since you walked out of my house almost five years ago, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I haven’t been on a date since- well, since I was with Nancy because I didn’t want to be with anyone else but you. I want to be with you, Y/N. I want us to be a family, officially. Me, you, and Penny in a big house. I wanna come home from work and know that I hit the jackpot because I get to see my two favorite girls every single day of my life. I want-” He takes a minute to breathe before he takes your hand softly. “I want you.”

He’s looking into your eyes and you just know that he means every word that he’s said just now.

You don’t know if it’s butterflies in your stomach or if you’re gonna throw up.

“Steve,” you breathe out.

“Please say you feel the same way.” He says softly. “If you don’t, that’s okay and we can just go back to how we were before I confessed all of this but if there’s even a slight chance that you feel the same way, please give me the chance to make you happy for the rest of your life.”

A smile makes its way to your lips and your eyebrow quirks up. “For the rest of my life, huh?”

“Mmm Hmm,” he hums. “For the rest of your life, for the rest of my life, for the rest of our lives… I’m in it for the long run.”

“Steve,” you say softly. You watch as the boy in front of you hangs on to your every word, anticipating what you’ll say next. He looks nervous and scared, but also hopeful. You lean in and kiss his cheek softly. His eyes close as he relishes in the feeling. “You’re in luck because I feel the same way.”

His eyes snap open and they sparkle in the light. “Really?”

“Really.” You giggle. “My feelings never went away either.”

“Oh my god.” He breathed out, pulling you into a hug.

You stay like that for a bit before pulling away. “I want to take this slow, though. I wanna do this right, I don’t want to rush things, Steve.”

He looks at you affectionately, rubbing the skin of your cheek with his thumb.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Y/N, as long as I get to be with you in the end.”

Tags:

@solarbxby @nojamsonmytoast @amberpanda99 @marrowfrog00 @ladygrey03 @ok-boke @browneyedgirly93 @munsonzgf @capswife @livsters @brinleighsstuff @imstevesnailedbat @theworldscalamity @marveloustylesthings @hazydespair @octoazzy @keeryverse @yvonne-dump @kjaxm @smoshyourheadin @eddiessweetheart86 @valhallavalkyrie9 @moneyy-21 @fhsbsvy @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @keerysfolklore @ahgrace6 @millercontracting @dangeratthebeach @baileebear @kinokomoonshine @mysticalstar30 @nanvxs @raineshua @ajeff855 @trln @flameo @spiderman-stilinski @daisy-munson @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @ali-r3n @itsnotsophiasworld @micheledawn1975 @empath-bunny

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

1  2  3  4  5  6 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Chapter 7

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: themes of obsession and maybe possessiveness, implied thought of suicide once (1), toxic relationship/marriage, slight themes of misogynistic society (??? Probably???), implied guilt and regret, ooc Dion. Please tell me if I missed anything.

NSFW warnings: sexual fantasies (Dion: implied unprotected sex, unprotected frottage, oral (fem receiving), clit stimulation, mention of fingering), one (1) dry hump, teasing, mention/implied masturbation, offers of oral (male receiving) and handjob, slightly sexually frustrated Dion (he might die if u don’t kiss him eventually), mention/implications of non-con twice (2) (no he does not non-con you), DUB-CON. Please tell me if I missed anything.

NOTE: I gave the Reader’s brother a name because I dislike writing (family member’s name) unless it’s like the parents. Probably. Also going to tag this as smut just in case.

Main story is slightly different from the drabbles for reasons.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS/TOXIC ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH/REBLOG WITH FANDOM STUFF DNI AND PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE MY POSTS. 

= = =

Something throbs against your bottom.

Breath catching in your throat, your heartbeat speeds up. Your husband doesn’t make any attempt to move, still hovering above you. He’s so close that you could feel his chest against your back with each and every exhale. Despite his… bodily reaction, he doesn’t grind against you. Doesn’t nibble on your ear or slide his hands until they’re groping at your chest, lifting you enough to do so. 

No, he just stays and his breath makes your ear tingle. You need to get out of this.

“H-hey… mind getting off? I need to change…” You wiggle a bit, aiming to escape his one-sided ‘embrace,’ if you could even call it that. Only to immediately stop once he hisses through his teeth, one hand flying to hold your hips still. You cease all actions and breathing becomes difficult. 

All is silent. 

The air becomes heavy and awkward. You dare not move. The risk of rubbing against him is high and you’d rather avoid giving him the wrong idea. Ah, but how should you go about this situation? You can’t exactly move and begging would elicit a less than desirable response from him - he likes seeing you cry, so begging might give him the same thrill. 

Seconds feel like minutes and minutes like hours. Dion doesn’t move against you nor away from you. However, his fingers dig into your hip, and you hold back the whimper from the sharp pain caused by his grasp. You’re stuck and don’t know how to escape. 

…but he is your husband. You don’t want to do that again, to be used as a fleshlight as he enjoys himself while you shake in his arms from the pain. It was humiliating. Awful. 

But your mother would tell you to go along with it. Lant would expect it. Your sister would comfort you, saying that it’s only natural, normal for married couples to engage in sexual intercourse. As for your father… he was always too awkward to discuss the subject. 

Besides, you already told him that you refuse to go through it again. That he could jack off and you would shove his sperm into your cunt so it could reach your fertile womb. 

You also don’t want to give birth to his child. However, you had no say so in that area - a child should be the result of any marriage. You scowl. While things were different in your old, modern world, things were vastly different here. A child was expected, needed in most cases. 

And this was one of them. 

His cock throbs again. 

… you could offer to jerk him off again. Maybe use your mouth if you’re feeling daring, suck on and twirl your tongue around the tip as your hands work the shaft. You’ll even swallow if it means he’ll stay far, far away from your cunt. It doesn’t matter if his cum is bitter and sour. 

When he throbs against you for the third time, you bring up your offer, your voice faltering with each word. When he takes a sharp breath, you know that you signed your death certificate. If accepted, you won’t be able to turn back.   

Wasn’t Dion Agriche supposed to be immune to sexual desires? From what you saw from spoilers, he was dense when it came to romance, so why was he acting this way? …then again, nothing about this was romantic. 

“I don’t need it.” was his response. In spite of that, he doesn’t move, voice husky and dripping with lust. You despise yourself for the shiver running down your body while your ear tingles as his breath hits it. It seems that you’re also weak to physical pleasure regardless of your wariness and fear. 

If only your body was more receptive last night. 

“Then why are you still on me? Holding my hip no less.” If your head wasn’t so fuzzy with sleep, if today had gone in a less confusing direction, would you still act the same? Or would you stay quiet as a mouse, waiting for Dion to take you while your stomach churns and you swallow bile down?

“To stop you from squirming,” he deadpans like his fingers weren’t digging into your poor hip. 

“And your hand around my throat?” 

“To see your reaction.” 

This isn’t going anywhere. You’re just running in circles as the man denies himself and keeps you in purgatory. Can’t somebody knock on the door, forcing him to get up and leave?

You think you should be more scared. You are, but it melts into something worse than annoyance. Why can’t he let you sleep? Leave you alone and pretend you don’t exist. 

“You didn’t tell me why you’re still on top of me,” pointing out as you lift your shoulder the slightest bit, silently telling him to get out of your personal space. After a pause he lets go of your neck, hoisting himself up a bit. It’s not much, but at least he isn’t as close. 

He throbs against you a fourth time. 

Please, please for the love of everything that is holy, let him calm down. No sane man would get horny after saying such awful things. 

You forgot he wasn’t sane. 

“Your reactions are interesting.” 

“... Well, you saw them - that should be enough, no?” You’re debating if you should headbut him. Tomorrow, you’re going to question your own sanity, wondering what gave you the bravery of becoming so bold. Chucking yourself into the nearest river won’t be enough. 

Time stops when your husband’s thumb starts rubbing circles into your hip. It’s gentle but suggestive all the same. No, no, no - you don’t want to fuck him again. You don’t want to bare yourself to him, to allow his fingers to rub at your clit as he thrusts in and out of your most sensitive area. You don’t want him to lick your twitching clit or tug his hair as he eats you out again. 

It was too much, too painful. 

You already told him as such. 

“D-D-Dion.” You hate how your voice shakes, choking on his name. You hate how loud your gulp is. You hate how you’re going to offer your mouth and hands to him again. You hate the fact that you’re going to sit back and act how your mother and sister told you to. 

He hums, hand moving from your hip to your back, tracing your spine again. You fail in holding back the small gasp that slips through. How is it possible for him to get harder just from that!? 

Your toes curl as he gives a small hump, only to harshly stiffen. Did he not mean to do that? 

“A-as long as we don’t… do it, then I’ll be happy to help you.” His hips struggle to stay still at your words, your husband clearly getting excited. He shouldn’t be like this. He should have left you alone and obsess over Roxana. 

But your gut is telling you that you switched places with her. That can’t be true though - he’s just playing with you for now. Raising your hopes up that he’ll be a ‘decent’ husband only to shatter the illusion once he gets tired of you. Honestly, after giving it some thought, you’re not sure which one is worse. 

“You have a lot of trouble with saying the word ‘sex’. It’s cute.” Dion muses, deciding to break his promise of not touching you further by ghosting his lips along the back of your neck, stopping between your shoulder blades. 

“M-mmh… You promised not to touch,” you shakily breath out, ignoring how he called you ‘cute.’ Your toes curl again, chest heaving a bit as you force your breathing to stay steady. Fingers digging into the sheets, your head starts to feel dizzy - he’s being much more intimate, choosing to be teasing and lover-like. 

How long has it been since you tingle down there? You hate it, hate how his touches are starting to set the mood. It’s despicable.

“You also said you didn’t come here for this.” 

“People are allowed to change their minds.” Your husband doesn’t go further than this. You wonder what his expression is. What he’s thinking while scared of the reality of everything. Should you be direct with your refusal? Would he even care? Bother to listen? 

Breathing in, you decide to test your luck. 

“But I haven’t.” Again, he stays practically glued to you. “So, please.” Unable to finish, you only shut your eyes tight, praying to whatever God that would listen. After what seems like hours he completely removes himself from you. Relief fills you as you’re freed, air easier to take in. 

It slightly irks you when he doesn’t apologize. The moment you wake up tomorrow, dawn breaking and memories fresh, you might consider killing yourself. To avoid any possible harsh and inhuman punishment Dion may give you for rejecting him. But tonight, right now as your head is fuzzy and your body falling victim to sleep, you couldn’t care less. 

You’re just happy and grateful he listened. 

Now only your body would do the same. 

“You should change and sleep.” No emotion in his voice. Remorse, guilt, annoyance, hatred - nonexistent. You are a bit worried about it but you can only close your eyes. Thinking is becoming hard.

How can you talk to him so freely? Minutes ago you were scared that the man would rape you. Yet now you’re back to being fine? Madness really is contagious. 

“I don’t think I can… that’s not an invitation.” Making your thoughts and expectations clear, you think you can faintly hear the scolding of your mother. You’ll fret over tonight later.

The world ceases to exist around you, falling into the abyss before you could hear him sigh.  

- - -

He was hoping you would change your mind. The most painful part was over with - as long as he took his time with you, it shouldn’t hurt as much. 

He would have played with your clit until you were whining for his fingers.  To flick the nub back and forth with his tongue until you complain, saying he was being unfair. To rub the tip of his cock against both your entrance and clit until your hips were bucking against him, trying to slip him in. 

But dreams don't always come true. 

Dion accepted as such, realizing that it was far too early to have sex again anytime soon. He could live without it. For a while. Hopefully the same goes for you, otherwise…

Well, his left arm would suffer a lot. 

… this isn’t like him. It’s strange and confuses him. You confuse him. But the questions could be saved for later, when his own eyes aren’t becoming heavy with sleep deprivation, the eye bags getting worse. 

He looks at your sleeping figure, halfway undone dress and corset still on. He considers stripping and changing you into the silk nightgown that he threw onto your back earlier. But seeing how the interaction from earlier went, he decides against it. 

He should call for Hana. 

Scarlet eyes stare hard at you. You look so comfortable, so peaceful - he wants to ruin it. Yet, at the same time, he wants to leave you be, to have a moment of peace in this hell. Your husband settles for the latter. Consideration sometimes overwrites sadistic pleasures. 

… something really is wrong with him. He wasn’t raised with consideration in mind yet here he is. 

Walking to the closet, opening the doors and picking nightclothes at random, Dion wonders how bad you’ll freak out tomorrow. If you’ll cry and beg for forgiveness once you’re able to talk and think. Or if you’ll play pretend and give him a nervous smile once the shock wears off. 

Maybe when he closes his eyes and slips into the dreamworld, he’ll be blessed with a dream of where you’ll accept him as is, faults and all. But as Dion slips his shirt on, he knows it’s next to impossible. 

For tomorrow, when you wake up to his sleeping face, you’ll find an isolated corner to hide in. Tonight will only be looked back on with regret filling your mind. 

That’s how it always starts. 

- - -

“Is it too early to write to sister?” a boyish voice asks. Your father looks up from his paperwork, heavy bags under his eyes. Standing in front of his desk in his office stands your brother - (e/c) eyes filled with impatience and worry. His hands are behind his back, nails digging into skin. 

The twelve-year-old boy has to physically stop himself from grabbing your father by the shoulders and shake him, demanding answers. Out of every man to marry you to, every family to give you to… why did he choose the worst of the worst? 

Weren’t there any better options? 

Your father goes back to his paperwork, pen gliding across the sheets. “It’s not, but be mindful of your words. No need to give your sister more stress. God knows she’s already tipping on the verge of insanity.” 

He doesn’t see the point in lying. Everyone with a brain knows he basically sent you to your early grave - it was only a matter of time until the Agriche family drives you crazy. And that’s putting it lightly. 

His reputation as a man and father has been ruined beyond belief. In spite of that, many still pitied him, rumors going around that he was forced to give you away. Others say that he wanted a bit of the power your new in-laws would lend him after the marriage. However, no-one would dare to ask him directly. 

“... am I supposed to wish her luck on her new happy marriage? Or should I tell her how lucky she is to get sold into such a wealthy and warm family?” 

Slam!

“Zachary (Last name)! Enough. This is a political matter; you won’t understand until you get older.” Your father slammed his palms against the surface of the desk, papers flying and pen dropping to the floor. It rolls under the desk. 

“Understand…? What is there to understand? Anyone with a brain cell knows that she won’t last long. Maybe a month if she’s lucky.” Zachary argues back, stomping towards the desk. A staring contest breaks out between the two males - your father is the first to look away. 

Running a hand through his greying hair, he heavily breathes out. “Everything will… work out.” 

“Work out? What do you mean by that? This isn’t some experiment -” 

“Listen,” your father leaves his position to walk towards your brother, grabbing his shoulders. “Your sister is strong. There is no need to worry.” 

“She’s as strong as a single match.” 

“That’s just rude. But yes, she won’t go crazy… immediately.” 

“You just said she’s tipping on the verge of insanity.” 

“It’s a figure of speech.” 

The argument goes nowhere, both males refusing to back down. Your brother was always hard headed - this wasn’t the first argument that has broken out between father and son, nor will it be the last. However, the context of this one is grave. It involves you. 

“Zac,” your father affectionately refers to him by his nickname, “it’s good that you’re worried about your sister. I’m worried too; but now is not the time to think the worst. Right now, you should offer her support…  cheer her up.” 

What a lousy way of pushing aside the pressing issue. 

Zac doesn’t say anything. In the end, he sighs before nodding his head. “Alright. I understand, father.” 

Your father accepts his answer. “Good. Now, like I said, do be mindful of what you write. Right now is a sensitive time.” 

‘Which means that the Agriche family is going to read through the letter first before giving it to her,’ Zac thinks. Alright, fine. That’s fine. 

Not like he practiced writing sugary words with hidden meanings the moment he heard of your engagement. With a teacher he hates but still followed regardless. The results of his teaching better yield positive results. For everyone’s safety - especially your brother’s. 

“I’ll tell her how you cried for two hours straight.” 

“...Zachary.” 

[hotluncheddie]

high masking autistic steve snippet - a follow on from this and this

wc: 2.5k | rated: T | cw: none | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie but again this is about steve), hurt/comfort, established relationship, stimming

ao3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Steve is spending the evening doing one of his new things. Where he takes time to just be. It’s recovering, or Stevie time, or whatever Eddie and Robin have decided it should be called. 

He’s alone basically, and it’s nice, because he’s letting it be nice. Letting it be restful. 

It’s for when he’s had a meltdown. Or can feel one coming on, because now he’s starting to recognise what overstimulation feels like on his skin. How it prickles at the back of his neck if his breaks cut short, makes his vision vignette if something too unexpected happens. 

Learned that after something like that he’ll need to rest. Needs time. 

And it’s not lazy. It’s not. (Sometimes it still feels like it is.) (Weak…that word always plays in the deep, scathing tone of his father’s voice…and selfish.)  

He’s on the couch, it’s dark, he actually feels really comfortable, and he’s watching The Breakfast Club. Watching it again. It’s his favourite, it feels like his. But he doesn’t like watching it with other people because they might notice how much he likes it and he doesn’t want that. Can’t be seen like that.. Embarrassing. 

So he watches it alone, when he gets home from work. He pauses whenever he wants, rewinds, pauses. Takes a deep breath, rewinds, pauses, stares into space. 

He also pauses to eat the snack he brought in. Actually tasting the food bc it’s the only thing he has to focus on. No lights, no sounds. He forgot how much he likes oranges when they’re ripe. Harder to taste if he has to listen at the same time. So, on a day like today, he lets himself do stuff one step at a time. 

It’ll probably take him double the normal run time to get all the way to the end. But who cares? It’s his time. 

The weird girl’s parents driving off; that feels like him. The jock’s Dad letting him off easy; that doesn’t feel like him. ‘No schools gonna give a scholarship to a discipline case.’ Maybe that does feel like him. Before through. A long time ago now. 

He claps sometimes. Keening high in his throat, a little happy hum that he only lets himself do when he’s alone like this. He does it after he whistles the same tune they do. And during the scene of them running around the corridors. It’s exiting. Makes his lips stretch wide and his feet flap around. He claps. Once. Twice. It feels good. 

He laughs at the characters. How they merge together with bits of his friends. He feels that swell of happy sad emotion looking at the jock when he first comes in, acting above the others, only seeing Molly Ringwald. He lives through a couple flashbacks of himself. Resigns to actually watch them, sit in them, begins to process who he was. Who he’s becoming now. Something like forgiveness tasting sweet on his tongue. He cries a little; that swelling and shifting as buried emotion finally passes. It overcomes him sometimes when he lets his mind relax.. He rewinds, and he laughs. 

“Stevie?”

Steve starts, fingers tangle in the blanket in his lap. Brain slow to process the change, the information. Eddie slipping through the door and coming over to him. Eddie dipping to look at Steve’s face, trying to catch Steve’s eye. Eddie smelling like cigarettes and crisp autumn air, it’s nice, but, it’s a lot. Panic sits bubbling somewhere in him. He wasn’t expecting this. 

“…Eddie?”

“Hey sweetheart. I know you had a shitty day, but Wayne’s at home with a headache and he needs to sleep it off. Wouldn’t’ve been able to stay quiet enough for him.”

Steve breaths in and out a little quickly. Eyes wide. 

Maybe it’s okay. Eddie knows he had a bad day. Maybe it’s okay.

“I’ll sit in the kitchen, work on my campaign, just forget I’m here.” Eddie speaks quietly, almost a whisper. 

He stares at his hand in his lap. “..You won’t, listen?” Steve feels small. Knows he’s not, his frame broad and strong. But, he needs small. Wants his world small tonight, slow. Wants to stay hidden. Him and the couch and the film and nothing else. 

Eddie just shakes his walkman and smiles (in that pointy way that makes Steve’s toes curl). 

“Kay” Steve whispers, still wary, off kilter. But accepts the kiss Eddie drops on his head, tangling their fingers together for a breath. Steve leans forward for a kiss on the lips. It’s deep, and lovely. Steve can smell Eddie’s cologne. Feels where the chill bit at Eddie’s nose. He shivers.

“No cooking.” Steve mumbles while their lips are still close. Small smile pulling at his face, eyes sharp, waiting for Eddie to get it. 

Eddie groans quietly in embarrassment but his eyes are soft and molten and Steve’s toes curl up again. “Course not baby, not again. Once you’re hungry just come through, yeah? Make us something nice.”

And the light of the kitchen doesn’t reach the couch. And Eddie listens to his walkman loud. And Steve’s safe. It’s Eddie. He’s not listening. Steve’s safe. 

His favourite scene; Bender and Claire in the stock cupboard. The way he looks so shocked, the way she bites her lip. ‘Why’d you do that?’ ‘Because I knew you wouldn’t.’ Steve whispers as they do. Claps. It’s such a good scene. He’s exited. He claps again. Rewinds to just watch her face. Rewinds to just watch his. Rewinds and watches the whole scene again. Wraps his arms around his middle and squeezes. Pauses on the kiss. He rubs his fingers agains his mouth. Giddy excitement bubbles in his belly. He hums high and happy again. He loves this movie. 

The weird girl gets a makeover, the jock really likes it. He feels like the weird girl sometimes, maybe Eddie can be his jock. Maybe he should get a makeover. Maybe keep growing out his hair. Maybe Eddie would like that. 

The credits roll. Bender’s fist in the air. Steve drifts on the couch, eyes closed. He breaths deep, his stomach growls. 

He pads through to Eddie. Squinting. Too bright. “D’you mind?” He motions to the lights, his eyes too adjusted to the dark and he doesn’t even wanna try and adjust them back. 

‘‘Cause. What we making?” 

Steve hums, goes into the pantry to see what’s easy. Eddie slips in behind him, hand on his waist. “Pasta?” Steve asks but Eddie doesn’t reply, just turns him gently. Nudging him to step back into the corner. 

Eddie looks at him, dips forward to place a slow kiss on his neck. “Why’d you do tha..’ Steve’s words dry up in his throat. 

“Because I knew you wouldn’t” and Eddie’s eyes are sparking with glee.

Eddie heard him.

He listened.

Steve’s feels himself flush hot, embarrassed and ashamed. “Ah, I, uh.” He can’t explain it, why he had to watch it so many times, why it makes him so exited. He crosses his arms over his chest. Turns back to the shelves of food and picks a can at random. Shoving out of the room. 

“Steve?”

Eddie said he wouldn’t. He listened in on him. He said he wouldn’t. He’s making fun of him. Steve knew he should’ve told Eddie to go home. 

“Stevie? What’s wrong?” But Steve doesn’t want to talk to him. He’s so angry, So ashamed, of himself. What if Eddie heard him clap too, heard him make that high noise, like a fucking baby, like some freak. 

He puts the can on the counter with way too much force, corn, not what he fucking wanted. His hands are shaking. He stares at them, wills his tears to stay behind his lash line. He got too comfortable, he can’t do that. Why is it so hard to pretend now, when it used to be so easy. 

“Steve, tell me what I did, please.” 

“‘M fine” Steve’s insides feel too big, pushing against his skin, itchy all over. He squeezes himself around his middle again, digging his fingers in hard. 

“Don’t do that, you know I hate when you bullshit like that.” Half lovely, half scathing.

The word stinks, a stab to the gut. But Steve gets it, he does, they talked about it. He bites his lip, hard. 

Its old habits or whatever. Because Steve, he loved fine. Liked sinking his teeth into it; toxic waste green coating his mouth and lungs. Thick and delicious. Because fine gets you out of it. Fine gives you translucency. Controlled balance. Everything appearing a none issue, the perfect in-between. Steve was perfect at coming off as something to not worry about, someone to be ignored. It used to work in all situations; can’t get told off if you’re fine, cant do anything wrong, teachers didn’t look twice, his parents wouldn't shout. By staying half alive, never letting anyone too close, never filling your lungs up all the way. That was the fine Steve adored. 

“You were literally just watching a movie. I dunno what the big deal is.” and there’s frustration, confusion, in Eddie, Steve thinks. He feels himself tense up, glance over.

Eddie must see something on his face. See that scared little animal prowling around within him. Because Eddie softens, his voice gentle. “Steve.. it’s nothing I hadn’t heard before.’ And Steve’s teeth clamp together with a click. He’s done that, his clap and his high hum, in front of Eddie before? Steve tries to swallow, he can’t, a lump too big and sticky in his throat.

He can’t look him in the face, angry tears still threatening to spill “You said you wouldn’t listen.” He’s mumbling. He sounds even more like a kid. Stupid. Grow up.

“I heard a little but I was just flipping the tape over, I wasn’t trying to snoop on you Stevie… You just, you sounded happy.” 

Steve huffs. Glances at Eddie. That soft underbelly of his whining, because with Eddie, Steve yearns. Yearns for close. Yearns to be seen, and understood.

“You didn’t mean to?” 

“No, it was just when I was turning the tape.” 

Steve forces a deep breath. 

“You think I’m weird. You hate me.” He whispers it like it’s true. A big part of him believes it, his tears welling up. Feels rejected. Knows that feeling too well. Hates it. 

“Always like you Steve. Always.”

Steve grunts, a tear slips out, rolls down his cheek.

“‘M embarrassed” comes out like an ugly sob. Steve scrubs his palms on his cheeks, feeling how red hot they are. Glaring at the countertop. “I’m embarrassed!” But it’s just Eddie. It was just Eddie.

Eddie comes over, slowly draping himself over Steve’s back. “Nothin' to be embarrassed about, love.” And Eddie leaves soft kisses on Steve’s neck, squeezes his waist. “You looked cute on the couch like that. Like it when you’re happy.” Steve tries taking another deep breath but it shudders. 

Embarrassed, angry, sad. Embarrassed, confused, angry. Frustrated, embarrassed. Tired. 

Emotions wash over him. He’s learning to try and just feel them, name them, pick them apart. Some bubble back up to the surface, some only needed to be seen once. 

Steve turns to bury his face in Eddie’s neck. He sighs, rubs his face into Eddie’s warm skin. shaking his head, likes how his lips feel moving against edie’s soft parts. 

Tired, hungry, embarrassed, hungry. 

“’M tired. I dunno what to eat.” He whispers, and then because he said it it’s like there’s space in his brain. “Want pasta.” 

“Pasta it is then. And then we can sleep, yeah?” Eddie rocks them gently side to side, kisses the side of his head and slips away. Goes to get the box from the pantry, puts the corn back. Steve gets a pot out of the cupboard. 

Staring into the water, the tips of his fingers prickle. Steve fizzes with energy and emotion. All pent up and annoying him. Needs it out. He clicks the flame on.  

He starts pacing around the kitchen island. In big striding, stomping steps. “Ugh! You think I’m weird. Some weird guy who acts weird and does weird shit.” Steve grumbles. Annoyed. He smacks his palm quick and hard against the counter top. Keeps stomping. 

Eddie comes back and starts following. Stomping and prancing like some court jester. “I like that you’re weird! You know, I have one episode of the Twilight Zone taped. It’s my third one. I watched the other two so much the tapes broke.’ Steve lets a little shout slip from him “Ha!” bubbly and forceful. Dislodging something within him. Like when a tooth finally falls out. 

Feels good. 

“I only like one brand of spaghetti hoops. Wayne once bought me a multipack for Christmas. Best fucking gift I ever got.” and Steve’s laughing now. Giggling and manic and still stomping around the island.

“I like how it feels to brush my teeth. I’ve never had a filling. I fucking love brushing my teeth, Eddie.” and that makes Eddie laugh now too. Two freaks stomping around the kitchen. A king and his jester, lit up by moonlight. 

Steve turns the corner and stops short, still giggling. Eddies bent at one knee, presenting the box of pasta to him. “My liege.” 

Steve claps, hums, high and keening. The waters boiling. 

-

“How’d you feel now?’ Eddie asks around a mouthful of cheesy pasta. 

Steve curls up tighter into the corner of couch, wraps both hands around the warm bowl. Glances at Eddie across from him. “Still kinda embarrassed.”

Eddie looks so soft, so kind, across from him. “I’m embarrassed too, to be honest. You love that movie, I thought you’d like me doing that. Kinda like when we, when we kissed upside-down, like I was Spider-man” Eddies sentence get quieter towards the end, mumbly, spoked into his bowl, cheeks dusted pink.

Steve strains to hear him. Smiles once he puts the words together. 

He shovels pasta in his mouth. Eyes closed. “You are so annoying Eddie Munson. Why’d you even come here tonight, you coulda gone anywhere.” Steve sinks further into the couch, it’s really good pasta.

“Missed you.” Eddie says it like it’s simple, easy, and warmth drips over Steve’s skin. 

Eddie clears his throat, Steve feels him fidget. “Wanna maybe.. You think we could live together one day? Want you to be able to do whatever you want with me around Steve. Breakfast Club on all the time at our place, kay?” And Steve’s throat constricts, that’s a big change, living with someone, moving out. But maybe with Eddie it could be okay, if they did it together, slow. 

“Yeah, kay. One day.” Softly, bit by bit. Little bits. Steve can get there. Let Eddie in, let Eddie see. “But no to Breakfast Club on all the time.” Because some times, some days, some things, are just for him. Steve needs it that way. And that’s okay. 

He stretches out further on the couch, feeling syrupy and nice, easy smile playing at his lips. “I like it when you kiss my neck though, you can do that again.” And that makes Eddie grin all pointy, put their bowls to the side and crawl over him. 

Steve’s toes curl and he hums, high and happy. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

tagging those who asked mwah! @2jug2head @lil-gremlin-things

but also people who i think might be interested (sorry if ur not lmk and i won't again) @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @steventhusiast @sugarcookiesteve @spectrum-spectre @irethsune

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part forty-one] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, angst, alcohol consumption, smut (18+ ; mdni)

word count: 3.2k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

additional smut warnings: semi-public messing around, oral - m+f receiving

The other resorts along the shore were nice, yes, but they were also crowded to all hell. There’s no way you would have been able to relax at any of them. Not just because crowds make you anxious, but because Minho probably wouldn’t be able to show his face anywhere. He’d have to wear a hoodie to the pool or swim with a baseball cap on, and even those weren’t guaranteed to be foolproof. 

There were hardly any people occupying the outdoor spaces so late in the day so it was like you had the place to yourselves. You and Felix continued to play in the pool while Minho grilled steaks and Jisung worked upstairs. You offered to accompany Jisung while he cooked but he assured you that he was fine to do it himself. Sometimes you kept him company at home but you knew he liked to work alone as well. 

The room that you and Jisung were staying in was a standard hotel room but Nikki and Dom had a suite with a kitchenette that he could use to prepare the side dishes. 

You ate gathered around one of the fire pits as the sun sank beneath the waves in the distance. When it got too dark out, Dom lit the fire so that you could all see what you were eating. There were path lights littered around the resort but they weren’t bright enough to illuminate the adjacent sitting areas too. 

“I wish we had marshmallows,” you sighed. “We could roast them and make s’mores.”

“I think the bar sells little kits,” Jisung piped up. “I remember seeing a sign posted on their menu.”

“How convenient!” Nikki exclaimed. 

“Want me to grab some?” Minho offered, already standing from his seat. 

You had once again put yourself on the spot. Everyone was looking at you, waiting for your answer. 

“I-I’d feel bad. I’m the only one who wants them, so you don’t have to!”

“Don’t be silly, we’d all eat them,” Jisung assured you with a pat on your knee. 

“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to try s’mores,” Felix agreed. 

Your mouth dropped open in shock. “Wait, you’ve never had one?”

“They’re an American thing, babe.”

“Does that mean you’re the only other one here who has had a s’more?” you asked Jisung. 

“I might have had one before,” Minho added thoughtfully. 

“Might? You don’t remember?”

“Yeah, well, when we were on the first world tour we had a lot of bonfires and shit but I was pretty drunk at all of them so there could have been s’mores there, there could not have been. I dunno.”

“Anyway,” Nikki swooped in, averting the attention away from her eldest son’s anecdotes of underage drinking. “Minho, why don’t you go grab a few kits from the bar Ji mentioned? I think your father and I would like to try a s’more too.”

“How many do you think we need?” Minho asked. 

“It depends on how many each serves. Why don’t we start with two and if we run out of supplies we can send Felix up to get more.”

Felix made a face. “What, me?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to send Minho up twice,” Dom explained.

“What about Jisung?”

“He cooked dinner.”

“I’ll be right back,” Minho interjected, cutting Felix off before he could protest any further. “Does anyone want anything to drink while I’m over there?”

    He took everyone’s order and then disappeared in the direction of the bar. 

    “Do you think he’ll need help carrying stuff?” you whispered to Jisung after he left. 

“Oh, shit, maybe.”

“Should I go help him? Would that be weird?”

Jisung looked back toward his parents to check that they weren’t paying attention before answering. “No, I don’t think so. No one suspected anything other than me. Do you want me to go with you, though?”

“No, you cooked,” you reminded him, “you should stay and relax. I’ll go help him.”

He nodded. “Okay. Oh, but kiss me before you go.”

-

Minho was still waiting when you joined him at the bar. It was almost as deserted as the rest of the pool area. Only a couple of people were occupying the stools and they seemed to be strangers to each other, drinking in silence apart from the waves crashing on the shore nearby and the occasional sound of the blender.

“Hey, stranger,” you said, grabbing Minho’s attention with an elbow to his side. 

“Hey... did someone forget to ask for something?”

“No, I came to help you. We realized it’s a lot of stuff to carry all by yourself.”

He scoffed. “You doubted me?”

The bartender placed the drinks and s’mores kit down on the counter in front of Minho right at that moment, leaving both of you to size up all there was to bring back to the fire pit. 

“You could have carried all that without spilling anything?”

“Fine, maybe it’s good that you came,” he grumbled. 

“Maybe?”

He set his jaw and took a deep breath. “It is good that you came. Thank you for helping. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

You grabbed two of the drinks while Minho took the rest, holding the plastic bags of s’mores supplies between his teeth. 

Nikki and Dom cheered when you reappeared with everything. The twins looked marginally happier. It was honestly as much as you could ask for from them. 

You spent the rest of the evening teaching the Hans how to make, what was in your opinion, the perfect s’more. There were only a few skewers to go around so everyone had to take turns, but it was nice to be able to take your time with something and relax. There hadn’t been much time to do that on this trip. Jisung had warned you of that in the beginning but you were still way more exhausted than you expected to be at this point. At least it was almost over. 

The thought of the trip ending was one that you had been pushing to the back of your mind for weeks now. Especially now that Jisung knew what had happened, you didn’t want to think about what would happen when you went back home. Would you grow apart? Would he distance himself once he was no longer in forced proximity with you? Would Minho break up with you? It wasn’t just something you could ignore now. There were only a matter of days left. 

When it was over, you would go back to Seoul with the Hans until the summer ended officially. But that would be different too. 

“You’re burning your marshmallow, love,” Nikki said softly, putting her hand on your shoulder to get your attention. 

“Oh!” you exclaimed and pulled your skewer out of the heat. You blew the flame out and transferred it onto a graham cracker. 

“Do you want a new one?” Dom asked. 

“No, that’s okay! I like them burnt, actually. I just didn’t mean to leave it in the fire for so long. It could have made a mess.”

Jisung’s dad shrugged as if to say ‘suit yourself’ before taking the rod from you and reloading it with fresh marshmallows. 

If it was woodburning, the fire would slowly start to dwindle as the kindling turned to ash. Since it wasn’t, it was still burning as brightly as it had been at the start of the evening when Dom finally turned the propane off. Nikki collected the empty cups and dirty skewers to return to the bar. 

“Good night, kids. Don’t stay up too late.”

-

Felix was the first out of the four of you to go up to his room, leaving you with your best friend and... Minho. 

The pool area was completely empty by then. 

“I’ll uh, I’ll leave you two,” Jisung said and stood to leave. 

You grabbed his hand to stop him. “Wait, no, you don’t have to go.”

“Yeah,” Minho agreed, a little less convincingly. “You should stay.”

Jisung shook his head. “No thanks, I’d rather not third-wheel.”

“Ji-”

“Take as much time as you need,” he said to you. “Just don’t get fucking caught by anyone else.”

You waited for him to leave before slumping forward and sighing into your hands. 

“I thought you said he forgave you,” Minho whispered. 

“He did. That doesn’t mean he’s okay with it,” you sighed.

Minho leaned back and stretched his arm across the back of the loveseat, inviting you to sit with him. You crossed over to his side and joined him, allowing yourself to lean into his side. He wrapped his arm around you and squeezed your shoulder. It felt nice, to do something so domestic with him, even while sitting in complete silence. Still, you worried about someone seeing you.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked. 

“You.”

“What about me?”

“Just you.”

You didn’t want to give him the details and risk ruining the mood so you hoped he was content with that answer. Thankfully, he didn’t ask you to elaborate. 

You shivered suddenly, unintentionally but thankfully changing the subject. 

“Are you cold?” Minho asked. 

“A little.”

“Should I turn the fire pit back on?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s so dark out now. It’ll only draw attention to us.”

“I don’t want you to be cold, though.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Minho didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t we get in the hot tub? You still have your bathing suit on, right?”

“Are we allowed to?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

You followed Minho over to one of the many hot tubs on the property. It was tucked away behind the now-deserted tiki bar and also totally empty. Minho turned on the jets and ventured down into the water, holding his hand out for you to get in behind him. 

You let out a sigh as you sank into the bubbling water, closing your eyes and resting your head against the pool’s edge.  

“Better?”

“So much better.”

You looked over to see him smile. “Good.”

You hadn’t realized how cold you were until you were warm. The chill had seeped through your bathing suit too. You could feel it ebbing out of the fabric as well as your muscles the longer you sat in the water. 

Minho settled next to you and put his hand on your thigh. It was comforting even though his hand was still cold.  

“This is nice,” he said. 

“It is nice,” you agreed. “I like being able to do just nothing with you.”

“We don’t get a lot of time to do that, do we?”

“No, not really.”

“Guess that just means we have to enjoy it while we have it.”

You sat up to look at him, wondering if he meant something more than what was implied when he said that. He met your gaze and gave you a questioning look. 

“What?”    You shook your head and sank further into the bubbles. You were reading way too much into everything. You needed to get a grip. 

“What’s wrong?” Minho repeated. “Talk to me.”

“I’m scared to,” you finally admitted. 

It wasn’t much, but you were finally being honest with Minho instead of skirting around his questions like you usually did. You could tell your answer hurt him but you were afraid that you’d hurt yourself even more if you told him everything. You had a feeling the conversation was going there anyway, though, and there was little you could do to stop it. 

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I don’t know... what we are?” You cringed as you said it. “And I don’t want to ruin things by asking, you know, because I like what we have going on and I don’t want it to go away but I also don’t want to get my hopes up by thinking we’re something that we’re not but sometimes you do things that make me think you want something more than... whatever it is we’re already doing but- mph!”

You were cut off with a kiss, like something out of a movie. It was brief, but enough to disrupt your train of thought. You stared at him incredulously, trying to read his expression. 

His face was even but his eyes were warm. You wished you knew what he was thinking. Moonlight and the flickering flames of torches in the distance were just enough to illuminate his features. The quirk of his cupid’s bow, the flutter of his long eyelashes... 

 “What was that for?” you inquired, even though you knew what it was for. 

“You were spiraling.”

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t help it.”

“I know,” Minho said softly. “For what it’s worth though, I feel the same way.”

You lifted your head to look at him again, your vision slightly blurred by the water dripping down your face from your wet hands. “What?”

He hesitated. “I feel... what you said. I feel the same way.”

“I don’t even know what I said,” you laughed. 

“Me either, but I got the general vibe of it and I’m in agreement.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I... I thought I was making it kind of obvious that I wanted something serious with you.”

“You never said anything outright, though!”

“Because I didn’t know what you wanted,” he explained. “You never said anything either.”

“Well, you’re the man!”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re going there? The feminism just evaporates from your body the moment you’re faced with confrontation?”

“See, you get it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m telling you now, okay? I want you. In all the ways you’re willing to let me have you.”

You swallowed hard, eyes burning. You didn’t want to start crying and you didn’t want Minho to see you crying so you kissed him again, with more urgency this time. You couldn’t think, hell, you couldn’t breathe, until he pulled away, leaving you wishing and hoping for more.

When your lips met for the third time, he pulled you under with him, just long enough to shock your senses. You gasped for air when you surfaced, pushing your wet hair out of your eyes.

“You’re not supposed to do that!” you scolded, sputtering as you shoved him. 

He stumbled backward onto the bench, falling seated again and pulling you on top of him. 

“You believe that bullshit?” he scoffed. 

“It’s not bullshit! It’s not good for you to put your head under the water in a hot tub!”

“I know people say that but why?”

“I... I don’t know why,” you admitted, “but I know you’re not supposed to.”

“See, you don’t even know!” You gave him a look. “Will you accept an ‘I’m sorry’ kiss?”

“That depends, are you actually sorry?”

He didn’t bother answering. Instead, he kissed you anyway, cradling the back of your head as he slipped his tongue past your lips. He tasted like s’mores and whiskey and chlorine, a combination so strange you couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

One of his arms dropped to your waist, wrapping around your body and pulling you closer until your chests were pressed together. You could feel him through his swim trunks, growing harder by the second. You were tempted to take him right there, but you were in public and having sex in a hot tub couldn’t be good either, right? That sounded like an infection waiting to happen.  

“Upstairs?” Minho asked breathlessly, lips only centimeters from yours. Not for the first time you wondered if he could read your mind. 

You nodded. “Yeah, upstairs.”

-

You dripped your way back to his room, shivering despite the thick towel wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Wanna hop in the shower?” Minho asked between kisses as he fumbled with the straps of your bikini. 

“Yeah, don’t want to get your bed all wet,” you replied. 

“That would happen whether or not we had just been in the pool,” he joked. 

“Hilarious.”

“Jesus, you’re freezing,” he hissed. “Let’s get these off of you, they’re so cold.”

“Is that the only reason you want them off?”

“I think we both know the answer to that.”

You knew Minho was expecting to have sex in the shower but you kind of wanted to fuck on the bed so you sucked his dick while he washed your hair and then took turns rinsing off before moving to his bed. You put your hair up in a towel to avoid the aforementioned wetness and wrapped yourself up in one of the hotel’s robes even though you knew it’d be coming right off. 

To your surprise, Minho left your robe on. He just undid the tie around your waist and let it fall open before shouldering himself between your legs. It was kind of like putting a towel down. He was killing two birds with one stone that way: protecting the sheets and keeping you warm. 

It didn’t take long for you to cum in his mouth. Minho knew your body like the back of his hand by now. It had taken him a fraction of the time it took your past lovers to learn what made you tick and he used all of that knowledge to his advantage. 

He kept going after you came the first time, eager to pull another from you, but you pulled him up by the hair to get his attention before he could get too into it. 

“Too much?” he asked. 

“Want you to fuck me,” you urged.

Thankfully, he was receptive to this and moved up so that he could position himself on top of you. He notched himself at your entrance and kissed you as he pushed himself inside, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue before pulling away and wiping his face on your shoulder. 

“Ew!” you cried and tried to push him away. 

Minho looked offended. “What do you mean, ‘ew’? It’s you.”

“That doesn’t mean I want me all over what I’m wearing!” 

“Since when?” he joked. “Seems like it’s always all over what you’re wearing when you’re around me.”

“Can we please talk about something else?” you begged, suddenly embarrassed and grossed out at the same time. 

Minho laughed and pecked you on the cheek. “What would you rather talk about? The weather?”

You tightened around him as punishment, making him swear and bury his face in your neck. “Fucking hell, you succubus.”

You smiled politely and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Don’t people usually say that if she can talk at all, you’re doing it wrong?” 

He narrowed his eyes at you. “I was just taking it easy on you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, this was for your benefit,” he continued. “Didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“How gracious of you.”

He clenched his jaw as he started fucking you faster, muttering sarcastically, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was boring you.”

Ironically, you couldn’t respond right away, too caught up in the feeling of how deep he was inside of you to get any words out. 

“I forgive you,” you choked out finally. 

Your hands fell to his biceps, desperate for something to hold on to. You dug your nails into his skin, making him hiss through his teeth. 

“Harder,” he urged. You squeezed harder and he gasped. “Fuck yes, keep doing that.”

“Like this?”

“Just like that, baby. That’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

[horangare]

my babysitter’s a vampire

pairing : vampire!hoshi x human!reader

content : smut (mdni), strangers to ???

in which : your parents hired a babysitter after deeming you as the “irresponsible” older sibling. when someone who isn’t junhui shows up in his place, you’re instantly captivated by this handsome stranger and his shiny white teeth.

warnings : grinding, fingering, finger sucking, big dick soonyoung, blood, mentions of a knife and minimal bodily harm (you cut your finger), unprotected sex (but mentions of birth control, be safe either way), cocky soonyoung (ugh i want him so bad), you threaten him with a fork, bff!chaeryeong, dirty talk, pet names, bulge kink (i think that’s everything but pls let me know if i forgot anything)

wc : 4.8K words

note : look y’all i am the youngest of four sisters so idk if my portrayal of a younger brother is a good one but…this is for u hoshi nation horanghae.

“What do you mean?! I don’t need a babysitter!”

Your mom sighed deeply, searching her jewelry box for her matching earring. “I’m sorry honey, but you do. Your sister clearly isn’t responsible enough.” You rolled your eyes, but remained quiet. “And I know Junhui’s mom. She says he’s a very nice boy who’s good with children.”

Ever since you and Chaeryeong shut yourselves in your room to rewatch Girl From Nowhere for the millionth time again and speculate if there would really be a third season, (Chaeryeong insisted there would be, while you thought the opposite) the fact that you were supposed to be babysitting your younger brother had completely slipped your mind. When your parents returned from their date, they pulled into the driveway only to find Leo out there screaming his head off.

After that, you were quickly deemed “irresponsible” by your parents and no longer allowed to be Leo’s babysitter. What did they want you to do? You couldn’t spend all summer break looking after the little brat. Anyway, it’s not like that was the part that bothered you, but the fact that you couldn’t talk or beg her out of it either.

“Mom, come on! I’m eight and a half now! I can pretty much babysit myself!” Leo crossed his arms over his chest, standing in the doorway so your mother couldn’t leave the room without giving him, in all his childhood glory, the explanation he felt he so richly deserved.

“It’s too late. Junhui is already on his way and we’ve already paid him.” She leaned down, kissing him on the forehead. “Promise me you’ll be good.”

Your brother glanced to the side, like he was actually considering not being on his best behavior, before nodding and smiling at your mom. “I promise.” What a little shit.

“That’s my boy. And the same goes for you, [Y/n]. Chaeryeong over but she cannot stay the night. Am I clear?”

You smiled, not even bothering to make it seem real or genuine. “Crystal clear, mom. Have fun with dad.”

“Yeah, yeah. We should be back at around eleven.” Your mom mumbled, making her way down the stairs and to the front door where your dad was waiting. You followed behind her, mostly so you could slam the door in a pitiful act of retaliation and lock it shut until your friend arrived, but also because you wanted to see what this Junhui kid looked like up close.

You’d seen him maybe once or twice before around campus or at the cute little coffee shop you frequented, but you had never gotten a close hard look at his face before. Some of your friends knew him, according to them he was kind of weird, but made up for it with his sense of humor. Maybe he could keep you some decent company before Chaeryeong showed up.

The boy on the other side of the door was not Junhui. At least, you didn’t think so. This boy was a little shorter, a little blonder, and a lot finer than you’ve ever seen Junhui look.

“Oh! Hello, are you…Junhui?” Your mom asked, raking her eyes over the boy standing before her.

“Hi. No, sorry, Jun couldn’t make it. I’m Soonyoung, I’m a friend of his. Can I come in?”

“Oh, sure. Leo? Your babysitter’s here!”

“He’s so hot. And he’s totally your type, don’t you think?”

“Chaeryeong, please!” You slapped your hand over her mouth, earning a dirty look from the girl standing beside you. She was right, this Soonyoung guy was super good looking, but she didn’t have to say it out loud. He was still a stranger after all. A hot one, but a stranger nonetheless, and it was only normal for you to have your reservations. “He’s not even the guy who’s supposed to be here. Junhui was supposed to be Leo’s babysitter. He says he’s his friend.”

Chaeryeong rolls her eyes, not understanding what your problem was. “I wouldn’t be complaining if I were you. Look, even Leo likes him.”

You and Chaeryeong watched from the kitchen island as Soonyoung helped Leo with his homework in the living room, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen your brother smile while doing homework. Neither of you could hear what they were saying, for some reason you doubted it was about fractions—fractions were not funny.

The longer you observed them—mostly Soonyoung—the more you realized how right your friend was. He was fine. Really fine. It’s like there was some kind of aura around him, something almost otherworldly.

That’s when you started to stare. Like the hard, not even blinking type of stare. Soonyoung turned his head over his shoulder, the two of you making eye contact in what felt like the most awkward way ever. He smiled at you though, which made your cheeks feel embarrassingly warm, before giving his attention back to your brother. Chaeryeong, having watched the entire exchange, grinned while looking you up and down.

“You’re staring.” She mumbled.

Feeling like a stubborn child about to throw a tantrum, you narrowed your eyes and pouted. “Was not.”

Your friend was no doubt satisfied with herself, cooing at you and cupping your face with her hands to squish your cheeks together. “Denial is not a good look for you. Come on,” she released your face to pat you on the shoulder. “let’s go watch a movie before I leave.”

Looking back at the living room, you saw your brother sitting on the couch alone with no signs of Soonyoung. Some babysitter, you thought, leaving the kid he’s supposed to be looking after alone. How could your parents leave someone so irresponsible in charge of your brother?

Oh, wait…

“Just wait for me in my room. I’ve gotta use the bathroom.” She nodded, heading upstairs to your room while you made your way to the bathroom in the hall and swinging open the door.

“What the fuck?” Soonyoung shouted, tearing his eyes away from the mirror above the bathroom sink to look at you. Gasping, you took a step back from him.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—” You started to apologize, glancing behind him into the mirror and you froze. The spot where his reflection should be was empty. You took another step back.

“You didn’t know…what?”

If you weren’t so scared right now, you would’ve definitely been offended by the way he was speaking to you like you owed him an explanation for wanting to use the bathroom in your house. You looked at him, then the mirror once more, trying to make it as subtle as possible.

“Uh…nothing! So sorry again.” You said, laughing awkwardly to diffuse the tension and backing away from him far enough until you were close enough to retreat up the stairs and to your room. Chearyeong, seated comfortably in your bed, snapped her head away from her phone to see you clutching your chest and panting.

“Woah, what happened?” She asked as she sat upright. “Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?” With one of your hands, you gestured that you needed more time to catch your breath before taking a deep breath and stepping closer to the bed.

“He doesn’t have a reflection.”

Chaeryeong raised one of her eyebrows. “The babysitter? Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course I’m sure! He was in front of the bathroom mirror but the mirror was, like, empty!”

You could tell she wasn’t really sure whether you were telling the truth or not, making you groan and cover your face with your hands. “I’m really fucking serious! There’s something wrong with him, Chaeryeong!”

A heavy sigh sounded from Chaeryeong’s place on your bed. “I don’t know…what kind of person doesn’t have a reflection?”

“All humans have reflections,” you shrugged, your head tilted as your mind considered each and every possibility. “maybe he isn’t human.”

Chaeryeong snorted and rolled her eyes. “What is he then? A vampire?” The comment was definitely meant to be a joke given the way she’d said it, but the way your eyes widened and jaw drop was all too serious. “Oh my god, is he really a vampire?”

You looked around your room frantically, feeling the smallest bit of relief when you saw your laptop resting on your beside table. Chaeryeong made room for you in the bed, watching as your fingers flew over the keys.

How to identify a vampire.

“Asks to be invited into your home…no reflection…powerful presence or aura,” you skimmed over the first three bullet points shown before you and felt your mouth go dry. Soonyoung, so far, was definitely fitting the description of a vampire.

“Look,” Chaeryeong pointed to the next bullet point and read it aloud. “When a person is injured, make sure to find out if their focus is more on the injured person or the injury itself.” You looked at her, unsure of what his point was. Nobody in the house had been injured?

“Yeah, so?”

“So we’ve gotta injure you.” She scoffed, a little confused as to how you weren’t following her crazy thought process.

You leaned away from her. “What? Why does it have to be me?”

“You’re the one that wants to prove it so bad, aren’t you?” It was hard to argue with that one, you were the one who brought it up in the first place. You grumbled and slammed your laptop shut.

“Fine! But if we do all this and he ends up being just some guy I’m expecting a very long apology from you.”

Chaeryeong just smiled brightly at you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Soonyoung had brought Leo up to bed much earlier than he thought he would; your brother mumbled something about using all his brainpower on the fractions, and Soonyoung had laughed and tucked him into the covers. When he returned downstairs, he noticed the kitchen lights were on. Once he reached the bottom, he could see Chaeryeong holding your quivering body in the kitchen, a knife and an apple discarded on the kitchen island.

“What happened?” He asked, the faintest hint of worry in his voice.

The truth of what happened is quite simple; you and Chaeryeong snuck down here while Soonyoung was putting Leo to bed, she gave you a small (but still painful) cut on your index finger, and now you were standing here trying to sell it.

“[Y/n] was gonna split this apple with me, but I totally forgot how awful she is with knives. I think she cut her finger open, does it look bad?” Chaeryeong grabbed your wrist, holding your now opened hand closer to Soonyoung’s face. The blood had pooled where the cut was and started to streak down your finger. He sucked in a breath, struggling to look away from it.

“Y-Yeah, it looks pretty bad.” Soonyoung gulped, watching the red liquid falling down past your knuckles. He licked his lips, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you pulled your finger away. Then and only then did Soonyoung look at you in the eyes again.

“Everything okay? You seemed kind of distracted.” You tilted your head to the side. “You seemed really focused on the blood, don’t you think?”

Soonyoung scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh please, I was not.” You and Chaeryeong exchanged a look, and you held up your bleeding finger in front of his face again. Soonyoung’s focus shifted once more, his eyes zeroing in on the streak of blood that was beginning to go dry. You turned away to rinse it under the sink and shook off the water once it was all washed away.

“Yeah, okay.” Chaeryeong said, reaching into her pocket and handing you a band-aid. “So you’re a vampire, right?”

To say the least, Soonyoung seemed shocked and offended that you had caught him so easily, as if he hadn’t been the most obvious vampire ever. “What? A vampire? Please, how could you ever think that?” It was almost pathetic how he was actually trying to convince you otherwise when the evidence was already there, maybe he actually thought he could wiggle his way out of this.

“Look, we already know. Just drop it.” You sighed, and Soonyoung did the same.

“Aw, mannnnnnn.” He whined. “What gave it away?”

“Do you really want us to answer that?” Chaeryeong asked him, her voice riddled with sarcasm. Soonyoung looked down and mumbled the word “no,” and Chaeryeong nodded pointedly. “Thought so.”

So you were right. Soonyoung was a vampire. He was also your little brother’s babysitter. It’s funny, you could’ve sworn you’ve seen a show like this before a really long time ago, one whose name wasn’t coming to mind right now. Whatever, back to the main point. Soonyoung was a vampire.

“Why are you here?” You questioned him, holding up a fork to his neck. “Are you gonna kill us?”

“Woah, um, first of all,” He closed his hands around yours and lowered it, and you noticed how cold he felt. Probably another vampire thing. You snatched your hand away, and he seemed confused, but shook his head and continued on. “That silver thing? It’s just a myth. Second of all, why would I wanna kill you? It’s not like your parents wouldn’t notice. Not to mention we don’t go feeding on people randomly, consent is a thing, you know.” You could’ve laughed at that. A creature that survived off of draining the blood of others caring about their right to say no seemed ironic.

“And anyway, did you seriously expect to kill me with a fork?”

Chaeryeong burst into laughter, though she tried to play it off by coughing when she saw you glaring at her. “Sorry…” She picked up the fork and the knife and dumped them back into the silverware drawer to prevent you from making any more threats against Soonyoung. Your parents also didn’t trust you with metal utensils for…reasons similar to this.

You rolled your eyes. “So what happened to Junhui? Why couldn’t he come?”

The blond shrugged. “I dunno, he said that he was feeling sick, so he asked me to come in his place. Does that really matter?”

“Of course it matters! I don’t want some freaky undead creature looking after my little brother!” You retorted, raising your voice just a little. He might’ve been against eating people, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still a monster.

“[Y/n], that’s kinda…” Soonyoung held up one of his hands, signaling for Chaeryeong to stop talking.

“How do you know Jun isn’t a vampire?” He tilted his head as he asked that, then pursed his lips while he waited for your answer.

So he was a vampire and a smart-ass. Great.

“I don’t know!” You turned your head away from him. “This is just…freaky. I didn’t know vampires could be so—”

“Witty? Handsome? Charming? I know, I get that all the time.”

“Stupid.”

Chaeryeong laughed again.

Soonyoung raised one of his eyebrows. “Stupid guys must be your type then. Well, according to Chaeryeong, if I heard correctly.”

You looked at him, eyes wide. “You heard all that?” Soonyoung nodded, smiling when he noticed the way you reacted.

“Every single word. You know, maybe you should do more research.” He flicked you on the forehead and grinned when you let out a yelp of pain.

“Anyway.” Chaeryeong mumbled. “It’s getting late, my sister is on her way to get me. Good luck with…” She gestured between Soonyoung and you. “whatever you’ve got going on.” She reached forward and grabbed the discarded apple from its place on the island and padded upstairs to get her stuff from your room.

A gleeful smile crept its way onto his lips as he turned his head to look at you. “She’s leaving. You know what that means, it’ll just be me and you once she’s gone.”

“If you try anything, I will go get the fork. I don’t care if it kills you or not.”

He laughed, and the sound echoed through the kitchen. It was weird, he didn’t sound or look like an evil blood-sucking monster. He just looked and sounded…normal. And a little shiny.

“Later [Y/n]! Bye Soonyoung. Have fun!” Chaeryeong waved to you from the stairs. You replied with a goodbye of your own, and Soonyoung hummed, listening for the sound of the door closing shut before turning you around and pushing you against the island.

You gasped. “What are you doing?” The way you squirmed in his hold was amusing to Soonyoung, acting as if you could get away. You were so cute, thinking you could get away from him. This would be more enjoyable than he thought.

“I don’t understand why you’re so afraid of me. I can make you feel so good, baby.” You scoffed, the sound turning into a low moan when he started grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“I’m not afraid of you,” The shakiness in your voice poked a hole in your believability, but Soonyoung didn’t think too much of it. He lowered his head to the side of your neck, pressing a kiss to your pulse point before licking a stripe up the side of your neck. You shivered with a horrible realization; you liked it.

“Mmm, then maybe you like me. Is that why your heart is beating so fast?” You could feel him smiling against your skin.

A whine echoed through the kitchen. Your whine. “Wait, my parents…”

You gasped a second time when Soonyoung turned you so you were facing him, and you watched him roll his eyes with that annoying smile plastered on his face. “Oh, them? They’re coming home late. Your mom locked the keys in the car, so they’ll be a while.” Just when you were about to respond, he turned you around again, the feeling of his breath on your neck making you shiver. “So just focus on me, got it?”

His hands traveled over your body, stopping to squeeze your chest or your ass. You should’ve been embarrassed with how you reacted so eagerly to his touch, but he was actually making you feel good. Well, whatever. It’s not like you’d actually let him know—

“I can get rid of these, right?” He hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pajama pants, pulling them down along with your underwear the second you gave him a nod of confirmation. The fabric drops down your legs and pools at your feet and you kicked it aside. Soonyoung reached between your legs, collecting the wetness between them and holding it up to your face, fingers glistening with your arousal. “Look how wet you are for the freaky undead creature. You like this, don’t you?”

“N-no. I don’t like this or you.” Even though you said all that and shook your head, Soonyoung could tell you didn’t mean it. He reached between your legs again, this time to ease one of his fingers inside of you.

“The way you’re moaning for me says otherwise.” As he said that, he pushed another one of his fingers past your walls and eliciting another one of those not so subtle sounds from you that he loved. You didn’t even have to see him to know that he was pleased with himself getting you all worked up like this.

He was arrogant. He was full of himself. He was a smug bastard. He was all of that and more, and it was making you weak in the fucking knees.

Three of his fingers were inside of you now, stretching you so good that it made your head spin, and you bucked your hips against his hands like you’ve never been touched a day in your life.

God, you’d never live this down.

You bit your lip so that he didn’t get the satisfaction of hearing how you were falling apart over his fingers, or how good it felt when he curled them inside of you just right, or how he had your legs shaking every time he reached your sweet spot. As if he needed the vocal confirmation (he heard the noises you were making regardless), the way you were trembling was pretty much a dead giveaway.

“You know, you still owe me a little blood.”

“What?” You turned your head as much as you could to look at him over your shoulder. Soonyoung’s eyes were darker than they were before, his hunger evident through his gaze.

How could you owe him blood? What did that even mean?

“You owe me some blood,” he repeated. “Waving your finger around in my face and refusing me a taste. You have no idea how worked up you got me all over that flimsy little cut.”

Judging by how his dick was still poking you, you seriously doubted that.

You turned your head back around, not wanting him to see your face as you weighed your options. You didn’t really know what would happen if he did bite you. Would it hurt? Would it feel good?

Only one way to find out.

“Just…do it fast.” You tilted your head to give him better access to your neck. Soonyoung smiles wide—not like you could see it, but you were imagining that he was in this situation. He withdraws his fingers from their place inside you, much to your dismay, but he’s now holding them to your lips. He groans when you open your mouth and allows him to slip his fingers in and mumbling something that you can’t pick up over the sound of your thumping heartbeat.

“It shouldn’t hurt too much, but let me know if I need to stop.”

He pressed a quick kiss to the spot on your neck that he was sinking his fangs into no more than a second later, giving you no time to process his little act of intimacy. It stung for a moment, but what followed the initial sting of pain was the most intense and overwhelming sense of pleasure.

Soonyoung moans with absolutely no shame when your blood fills his mouth. He’s never tasted anyone as good as you, and he realizes that he could quickly become addicted to you. Your sounds, your blood, your pussy, each and every part of you inside and out was intoxicating.

You wrap your hands around his wrist and pull his fingers out of your mouth, wanting to have him hear your next words clearly. “Fuck me…please.”

He nearly chokes when you ask him that, forcing himself to pull away just so he can ask you to repeat yourself. He licks the remnants of your blood from his lips and your wound so that it’ll seal. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Clearly your expectations for him were still far too high, because instead of taking you to bed or at least the couch, he had you laid on the kitchen floor. Yeah, you’re definitely never living this down.

And yet despite all this, you can’t help but drool when you finally got to see Soonyoung’s cock beyond the confines of his sweatpants. He looks down at you, smirking, and despite your heightened arousal you still feel an urge to kick his cocky little ass.

“Can you get down here before I change my mind?”

He waves at you dismissively as if he hadn’t been the one all over you. “Need a condom. Got one on you?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m clean and on the pill. Come on, just fuck me already, oh my—”

Soonyoung happily lowered himself onto the floor, his lips on yours as he guided himself inside of you inch by inch. He tasted like your blood, obviously, but there was an also a faint taste of pink starburst too. Something he probably got from Leo, no doubt. The combination was weird, but somehow you figured it suited him.

“God. So f-fucking big, Soonie!”

Gone is the last bit of your composure with Soonyoung’s cock buried inside of you, blurting out any thought that came to your head against his lips.

“Shhh, not so loud, baby,” he whispers. “Wouldn’t want to have your bother wake up and find out what a slut you are, would you?” Yeah right, you think. Leo could sleep through anything, including you getting dicked down by his babysitter. But getting called a slut by him in that sickly sweet way had you clenching around him. “Fuck, warn me if you’re gonna do that.”

“Like I knew it would happen.” You hissed, making him laugh. He found this back and forth thing going on between the two of you fun, especially when he could get you so worked up and vice versa.

He waited until your body had relaxed to start moving, having to keep one of his hands over your mouth each time he thrusted into you because despite what he’d said earlier you just couldn’t seem to stop yourself. It wasn’t your fault that the kitchen was so echoey or that Soonyoung was giving it to you so fucking good.

“You’re such a cute little thing,” He laughed breathily into your neck. “I loved how much of a fight you put up for me baby. Now look at you. You’re mine.”

“All—ah—yours,” your words were muffled by his hands, but he understood you perfectly. The embarrassment you felt earlier was gone, completely replaced with thoughts of him and his cock splitting you open right here on the floor.

You felt him nod, “Mhm, you’re all mine, and I’m all yours. God, wish I could just fuck this sweet little pussy forever.”

A laugh managed slipped past your lips and he finally moved his hand away from your mouth. “You can say that?”

“God? Duh.” He sneered, becoming more and more aware of just how clueless you really were about vampire culture. “Can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you right now.”

You were just about to say something else when Soonyoung changed the angle of his hips, slamming into you even deeper than before. Your back arched, chest pressed to his, and a second later you let out a frustrated groan.

“You still fucking suck.”

“I’m glad you noticed.”

He opts for a faster pace after that, spurred on by the way you close your eyes and babble his name over and over again as if it’s the only word you can say. He’s so desperate to cum, to get you to cum, to have him be the only thing on your mind when you make a mess of yourself all over him. He whispers for you to keep your eyes closed, taking your wrist in his hand and bringing it to your stomach.

“Can you feel me? Right…” He moves your hand around a little before he finds the correct place, “here?” Blindly, you press down on the spot, and your eyes shoot open. He’s so, so deep, you can’t keep it together anymore.

“F-Fuck, feels so good,” your breath hitches at the end of the sentence. “Need more…”

“Yeah? Pretty baby needs more?” Soonyoung raises one of your legs over his shoulders and you swear you start seeing stars with the way he’s fucking you. “You’re so t-tight, sweetheart. Gonna cum?”

“Mmm, yeah, so c-close. Make me cum, Soonie, need it so bad.”

Soonyoung lifts his head so that he can kiss you, only breaking it to quickly mumble the words “me too” before his lips are back on yours and his finger is rubbing your clit until your body goes limp beneath his and he feels you squeezing him so tight it triggers his own orgasm, slowing the speed of his thrusts as he floods your pussy with his cum.

Your head feels fuzzy, and you barely register the feeling of him pulling out or lifting himself off of you while you lay there and catch your breath. “Soonyoung?”

There’s no immediate response, and it makes you confused as to why. You try to lift yourself off the floor but the soreness hasn’t quite subsided, so you’ve no choice but to stay put. “Yeah, just leave me on the floor. Not like I need your help or anything.”

“Well excuse me for not wanting you to be all sticky.” He huffs, wiping the insides of your thighs with a damp washcloth, then proceeding to wipe down the floor and the top of the island.

“I’m still on the floor, Soonyoung.”

Smiling, he helps you to stand and even manages to get you back into your underwear and pajama pants. He won’t stop looking at you like he has something to say. Maybe, for once, it’s something important.

“What?”

“You wanna go again? I’ve still got a ton of energy.” You rolled your eyes. Of course he did. “Oh come on, I know you liked it.”

“That’s it, I’m getting the fork.”

[little-bumblebeeee]

Hey, this is my first time doing an ask so could you please do steve harrington angst where he feels a lil distrust cause of how things ended with nancy with comfort at the end. Feel free to ignore if you're not up for it 🙃

Omgggg babes sorry this took longer than expected, I started a new school and got food poisoning lmao 👍

Anyways without further ado,

Steve Harrington x reader, slight angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, Steve thinks reader might be cheating or is unhappy, 1k words ♡ (hardly proofread, forgive me love)

You had to stay late for work to fix a mess your boss made, and in your haste to finish it you forgot to tell Steve. Sure, you haven't been dating long and sure, you don't live together, but lately he's been staying at your place to escape the big empty birdcage that is his parent's house, so maybe you should have told him.But you didn't, that's the thing. The sun has already set by the time you get home, your cheeks flushed from the cold as you quickly close the door to let as little heat out as possible.

"Steve? Are you here?" You call out, seeing the light from the kitchen on but no noise. Not the clink of the dishes being washed or the sound of something being stirred, no sizzling of food and no shuffling of feet to the pop music Steve likes. No noise and no answer.

"Stevie?" You call out once more. You have a feeling that he's here, the imaginary hook in your chest that pulls you closer to him feeling short. When you show up to the kitchen, there he is, standing in front of the counter and looking down at his cup of hot chocolate, little marshmallows disintegrated and no steam rising from the top, he must've been standing there for a while.

"Hey." He says softly, bringing the mug to his lips maybe for the first time, frowning at the cold as if he was completely powered down before you stepped into the room. He sets it back down to be forgotten until the mug needs to be washed, turning the burner back on that has the pot of milk on it.

"Sorry I got home late, my boss is an absolute child." You say as you lean up against the counter, watching as he stirs the milk in the pot and shakes the chocolate packet. "Oh no, it's fine. It's fine. You don't have to tell me everything." He says, the muscle in his jaw clearly clenched.

"Steve, you alright?" You ask, stepping just a little closer with your arms crossed loosely upon hearing the tone in his voice, firm and steady, as if he's controlling every word, every breath, every little movement. It's a little scary and concerning– but you've seen him like this before. He's just annoyed and doesn't want to be snarky with you. Before he can say that he's fine, you raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to say that he is because you know he's not. Daring him to say that he had a tough day because he already called you during your lunch break to tell you how good of a day he had.

"I just.. were you actually at work? Just tell me the truth." He asks you. The truth? Does he believe you're lying? Sure, you haven't been together for a super long time, but why would he think you were doing something else? You told him what happened– does he not trust you? You just can't help but wonder what goes through his mind in times like this.

"I was. I just couldn't text you because my boss won't stop acting like a child, I told you." You say. The hurt and confusion you feel must be visible on your facial features because he puts down the packet of chocolate power, turning to face you.

"I don't mean to offend you or anything but how am I supposed to know I can trust you? We haven't.. we haven't been dating long, I know– and you can call me crazy or paranoid or say all of this is bullshit but I.. just want to know. I want to make sure you're okay– I want to make sure we're okay. I don't want to be lied to." He explains, running a hand through his hair and pinching his nose once or twice, a clear sign he's holding everything back. You two haven't really... talked about past relationships, but you've heard things. Heard and seen things. All you wanted to do that night at Tina's party was hide in the bathroom until your friend came to pick you up, leading you to hear a conversation you definitely shouldn't have heard. The air feels dark and heavy– something you've never felt around Steve, who practically has sunlight coursing through his veins, making every room just a little brighter. But the sunlight is gone, his blood red instead of gold.

"Steve–" You start, but he stops you in your tracks. "Don't start like that." He says, looking as if you're about to break the worst news to him. You kind of did start like that too– a sort of softened tone in your voice as if you didn't want what you were about to say to hurt him. But you continue anyways.

"You're not crazy, or paranoid, or whatever else. You're just a little cautious. But I was at work, and I can call my boss right now if you need me to." You say, your phone open and held out to him.

Steve just.. blinks a couple times. But he shakes his head, pushing your hand away and pulling you close, his arms snaking around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your neck. You feel more than hear the apology, but you know it's being said.

And you know he means it.

Because Steve doesn't lie. He doesn't say things that he doesn't mean, if he tells you that he loves you then he loves you, no doubt about it. "I shouldn't have. I'm sorry– I... things never went right for me, and now that they are, it's scary. It's scary as hell. Because I don't know when it's going to stop, I don't.. I don't know when things will go wrong again. I just.. I love you. Too much, sometimes." He admits, lifting his head up a little with a humorless chuckle, brown eyes boring into your soul.

"And I don't ever want to let you go." He adds. He proves his point by squeezing you tighter, putting everything he has into this one squeeze as if someone is waiting just behind you to steal you away.

His skin shines golden once more, the room feeling warmer and brighter. Everything seems to feel less dull when you love him, doesn't it?

[adumbratrapedme]

Tsutomu Goshiki x reader | teen pregnancy series | pt.1 the news

Synopsis. a teen pregnancy storie between goshiki and reader.

wc. | genre. angst to fluff |cw/tags. angst, teen pregnancy mentions, fluff, etc. teen pregnancy series masterlists here!

general headcanons

╭⋅The moment he realizes what’s happening, he goes into full dramatic mode. His first thoughts aren’t even about responsibility or the future—it’s more like, “OH MY GOD, A BABY? ME? A DAD? WHAT IF THEY THINK I’M LAME?!” ╭⋅He starts overthinking immediately—“Do babies like volleyball? What if I spike too hard and scare them? Will they think my jump serve is cool? WHAT IF I DROP THEM?!” ╭⋅Despite panicking, he never once considers running away or avoiding the situation. He may be dramatic, but he’s loyal as hell. ╭⋅After the initial freak-out, he does a complete 180 and starts acting like he’s got it all under control—even if he clearly doesn’t... He suddenly starts reading parenting books, watching baby videos, and Googling the most ridiculous things. ⋅“Can babies eat rice balls?” ⋅“How do you hold a baby without breaking it?” ⋅“Can babies play volleyball? Asking for a friend.” ╭⋅He Over-Prepares. ⋅Buys a tiny volleyball way too early. He just knows the baby will be a prodigy. ⋅Starts saving money—he has no idea what for, but he feels like he should. ⋅Tries to eat healthier, even though he’s not the one who’s pregnant, lol. “If I’m gonna be a dad, I need to be STRONG.”

You and Goshiki had been together for about six months now. Your relationship had started as a friendship—late-night calls, study sessions, him always trying (and failing) to act cool around you. When he finally confessed, it was dramatic, loud, and completely endearing. Since then, things had been sweet—full of nervous hand-holding, awkward but sincere kisses, and him constantly trying to impress you.

But now… this was something neither of you had ever imagined.

You had been feeling off for a while—exhausted, nauseous, emotional over the tiniest things. At first, you brushed it off as stress from school and staying late to watch Goshiki’s practices. But then, the realization hit. The test confirmed it. And now, you had to tell him.

You had planned to do it after practice, maybe in your usual spot near the gym. But before you could, he found out on his own.

It happened completely by accident. You had asked him to grab something from your bag while you tied your shoe, not thinking twice about it. But when he reached inside, a small folded-up piece of paper slipped out—a doctor’s appointment confirmation. You didn’t notice at first, but when you looked up, Goshiki was standing completely still, staring at it like it was written in another language.

"Prenatal consultation."

His hands shook slightly as he read the words over and over again, his usually loud and confident energy completely gone.

“…What’s this?” His voice came out quieter than usual, almost hesitant.

Your stomach dropped. There was no backing out now.

You swallowed hard. “Goshiki… I was going to tell you. I just—”

“Wait—WAIT.” He held up a hand, as if physically trying to stop time. “This is—this is saying—does this mean—??”

You bit your lip, heart pounding. “Yeah. I’m—” You took a shaky breath. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Goshiki’s face went pale, his eyes impossibly wide. Then, in an instant—

“WE’RE HAVING A BABY?!”

His voice echoed through the empty hallway, pure panic and disbelief clashing in his expression. His breathing picked up, hands still shaking slightly, his entire body stiff like he had just been hit by a truck.

“I—I’m gonna be a dad?!” He looked at you, then at the paper, then at you again, like his brain was malfunctioning. “Like—a real dad? With a real baby?! That’s—a baby? Inside you??”

You winced. “Goshiki—keep your voice down—”

He ignored that completely. “OH MY GOD. I—I CAN’T EVEN DO A JUMP SERVE PERFECTLY YET—HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO—” He gasped. “WHAT IF THE BABY THINKS I’M LAME?!”

You blinked. That’s his concern right now?

Seeing him spiral, you grabbed his hands, squeezing them tight. “Hey—breathe. Please.”

He sucked in a shaky breath, his body still tense. His mind was racing at a thousand miles per hour. He was sixteen. He was a first-year. He was supposed to be focusing on volleyball and proving himself—not this.

But then, he looked at you—really looked at you. And suddenly, his panic took a backseat to something else.

“…Are you okay?” His voice was softer this time, full of genuine concern. “I mean—how do you feel?”

You let out a slow breath. “Scared,” you admitted. “But also… I don’t know. It still doesn’t feel real.”

Goshiki swallowed hard. He still looked like he might pass out, but he straightened his shoulders, trying to pull himself together. He wasn’t the type to back down from anything—not in volleyball, not in proving himself, and certainly not in this.

He nodded, mostly to himself. “O-Okay. Okay. Then… we’re in this together.” His grip on your hands tightened. “I mean—I don’t know anything about being a dad, but—I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

You stared at him, surprised. “Just like that?”

His lips pressed into a thin line, determination taking over his panic. “Just like that.” Then, after a beat—“…Unless you don’t want me to?”

You laughed, despite everything. “Of course I do, dummy.”

Relief washed over his face, though he still looked overwhelmed. He exhaled, rubbing his face. “Holy crap. I’m gonna be a dad.” A pause. Then, almost panicked again—“Wait—DOES THIS MEAN I HAVE TO TELL USHIJIMA?!”

“…One thing at a time, Goshiki.”

General Taglist:

@chilichopsticks @dreadnoughtus101 @starykari @staygoldsquatchling02 @alpha-mommy69 @curlyhairkk @b1xi @reuka1 @feyrfly @elmaa127

if you want to be part of the taglist you can always DM me or coment! also if u only want to be tagged on specific characters.

-if i forgor someone pls tell me and dont be shy, i get really lost with the taglist thingy ahhh

[changingplumbob]

Foster Household: Chapter 9, Part 10

Darwin: Are we going to game or what

Carson: Just let me send this selfie first

William grabs the seat by Onyx while Carson and Darwin get the spots in front of the screen.

Darwin: I can’t believe we have to have more classes with Mrs H

William: She is the senior teacher

Onyx: And the senior grump

Carson: I’m always worried she’ll give me detention again

William: I thought you were getting help for the OCD

Onyx: Don’t need to have OCD to be worried about her, I’m worried about her. Darwin you’ve got to try curb your antics when she’s teaching us

Darwin: Now where would be the fun in that

Carson: How about not getting your friends sentenced with detention by association

Darwin: Fair point. Oh come on, who threw that banana?

Onyx bursts in to laughter and Darwin throws a cushion at them.

William: Good game folks. See you all at school tomorrow

Onyx: Yeah I better see if my parents are ready to go

Carson: Any headway with Anya lately

Darwin: *sighs* I wish, she’s left me on read for two days now. How about your girl

Carson: *laughs* She’s not my girl

Darwin: She’s pretty, maybe she should be you know? It doesn’t matter that she’s younger if you like her, that's what I tell myself about Anya

Harvey: I think that dinner was a success

Kayleigh: So do I! Oh Reece called while you were doing the dishes and he and Samir are fine to come stay. Plus I let him know Carson and Charlie know about the werewolf business

Harvey: Did Carson faint with shock

Kayleigh: *laughs* No so I guess we were wrong about that

Harvey: We’ll have to keep an eye on him during the visit. Make sure he doesn’t get stressed about a werewolf being under the same roof

Kayleigh: Will you be stressed

Harvey: Not if he gives me grandbabies

After his normal morning routine Carson was delighted to see a text from Ariadne pop up on his phone.

Ariadne: Great news! They’ve opened the rink at school

Carson: How is that great news

Ariadne: Because I’ve been dying to go ice skating so bring your skates

Carson: They weigh a lot

Ariadne: Never let a little weight put you off! I like things with a little weight to them

Carson: Okay, okay, I concede

At school the news of the rink opening had gotten around and several kids had brought their skates. Carson found Ariadne at the edge of the rink looking at them with awe.

Carson: Have you ever actually skated before?

Ariadne: Carson, you're here! When I was little my grandmother took me a few times but... it has been a while

Carson: Maybe it’ll be like riding a bike and you’ll remember

Ariadne: I hope so. I'd rather not fall on my butt in front of everyone

Carson: So... got a sparkly costume hiding under the coat

Ariadne: *giggling* Do you

Carson: Drat. You told me to bring skates, not my leotard, it's back home

Ariadne: Always good to leave something for next time

Carson: *laughs* I mean you’d look much nicer in a sparkly outfit than I would

Ariadne: I think you look nice anyway

Carson: Oh, really?

Ariadne: We ah- we better get on the ice or we’ll be talking until class starts

Carson: Ladies first

Ariadne was first on the ice out of the pair with Carson close behind. He may be asthmatic but he didn’t mind something slow like ice skating. He did his best to keep up with Ariadne but he did slip over once or twice. Luckily he was behind her so felt pretty confident that she’d missed it. As the bell rang and he headed off the rink to class he missed her also wiping out.

In art class Carson was glad to see Mrs T back. She was always much calmer and knew a bunch about art. As she gave a rather detailed analysis of perspective in art he felt his skill grow.

Down the hall in social studies it was a different story.

Artemisia: *whispers* Hey Roger, yo mamas so lazy she has a stay at home job and is still late to work

Roger: Shut up Emi, you know she’s a social worker. I’m not getting suspended again because you can’t control yourself

Artemisia: Only my friends get to call me Emi. Hey Roger, yo mamas so old she was a waitress at the Last Supper

Roger: Don’t think being a girl will stop me from punching you

Artemisia: Go ahead. My Pa will sue you until yo mama is so poor the ducks throw bread at her, oh wait, she already is

Previous ... Next

[saywhatjessie]

All sorts of crap

Advent Calendar Day 16! (prompts by @raven-cincaide-words) Today’s prompts: First Christmas | Strangers to More | Little Touches Fandom: House - Pairing: Hilson 1.2k[Ao3]

Wilson answered the knocking on his apartment door, ready to greet carolers or maybe a confused Jehovah's witness. Because who else would be at his door on Christmas Day? 

“I don't smell ham so you must be either making the customary Christmas goose, or else you're a really shitty host.”

“What- House?” 

The tall scruffy man shoved past Wilson into his apartment, looking around without a hint of shame. “What, no guess? I thought I'd at least get the chance to meet your mother. What kind of nice boy like you doesn't even see their mother on Christmas?”

“The Jewish kind,” Wilson answered automatically. “Hanukkah was at the beginning of the month this year.”

House snapped his fingers, pointing meaningfully at Wilson, an amused smile tilting his lips. 

“I should have known,” he lamented, “You do kind of give off the stink of a nice Jewish boy from Bergen County.”

“Not sure that the stink is Judaism. That might just be the smell of New Jersey.”

House laughed, delightedly, clapping Wilson on the shoulder before making his way into Wilson's sitting room. Wilson watched helplessly as this man he’d only met once made himself at home on his sofa. 

Wilson had met House in New Orleans 3 months ago. House had bailed him out of jail and told him he was the most interesting person at the conference. Wilson had thought House was hitting on him at first, and he was just messed up enough about Sam's divorce papers that he was going to take him up on it. But, against all odds, House genuinely did just think he was interesting. He wanted Wilson's company, not just to fuck him. Which was weird, but Wilson wasn't exactly in the business of turning down friends. 

So he and House had parted ways friends. House back to Maryland and Wilson back to his residency in Philadelphia. They'd exchange numbers, and over the last three months had spoken on the phone no less than twice a week. Even when Wilson didn’t have time to talk, it wasn't uncommon for him to return to his apartment after a long and harrowing shift at the hospital to find a long and comforting voicemail from House, just rambling on about whatever had annoyed him that day. Wilson had told house his home address so House could send him a holiday card. 

Except now Wilson realized that he would not be receiving any such holiday card. House instead decided to deliver himself. 

Wilson laughed helplessly, following House into his sitting room. 

“Well, you're insane, but I guess I did know that going in.” He sighed, lowering himself into his armchair. “How have you been? I haven't seen you since New Orleans. You look good.”

“Stop flirting with me,” House said. “Or at least cut the small talk, the flirting is can stay. Just don’t make it boring.”

Wilson huffed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Alright. Then what are you doing here instead of with your family for the holidays?”

“In my house, we celebrate Kwanzaa.”

“Or you just hate your parents. Is this how I find out there will be trouble with the in-laws?”

House smirked. “See? Isn't it much better to flirt without the small talk?”

Wilson rolled his eyes. “Deflection means yes, but it's Christmas so I'm not going to push it.” 

“Pussy.”

“Hey if you want me to push, I can push.”

“Oh, I want you to push, just let me get into position.”

Wilson rolled his eyes again but laughed, pulling himself up out of his chair with a slight groan. 

“Well, if I'm hosting my new friend for Christmas – a holiday I don't even celebrate – then I will be getting drunk. Whiskey?”

House hummed in affirmation, his eyes moving over Wilson as he passed stood. Wilson brushed his hand along Houses shoulder as he passed, feeling his light shutter under his fingers.  If House was allowing flirting, this was probably also allowed.

He pulled out his nice tumblers, the ones that his older brother had got him for his college graduation. He hadn't really had a chance to use them yet: Sam didn't like whiskey, and he and his friends from college kind of lost touch in his last year, when he and Sam were married. 

He couldn't think of a better time to break them in. 

He poured two fingers of the whiskey he had on hand in each glass. It wasn't very good whiskey – he was a medical resident with debilitating loans. And he couldn't justify the expense on a liquor he only drank sadly by himself in his apartment. But this was the whiskey he had, so it wasn’t like House could complain. 

“Yuegh!” House pulled a face like Wilson had poisoned him. “Why are you drinking this swill? You're a hot shot oncology Wonderboy. None of your patients have given you really good whiskey?”

Wilson frowned, pausing at the arm of the couch.

“I'm not sure it's appropriate for patients to give their doctors substances that might impair their judgment.”

House snorted. “I bet you a hundred bucks that within your first year as an attending, one of your rapturously grateful old baldies will give you a bottle of at least three hundred dollar Scotch.”

Wilson hummed. “Yeah, I'll take that bet. If I win, I get a hundred bucks. And if I lose, I get a three hundred dollar bottle of Scotch.” 

“Well, part of my winning includes you pouring the first class for me, of course.” House pulled another face at his glass. “To make up for the garbage you're giving me now.”

Wilson laughed, lowering himself onto the couch next to House and taking his own sip of the perfectly adequate whiskey. “Yeah, House. I'll share it with you.”

He didn't tell House that he was the only one Wilson had to drink with, anyway. That, even if Wilson did have someone else, it was House's company he wanted. He pressed his shoulder against House’s and didn’t tell him that they hadn’t known each other long, House was probably the best friend he’s ever had.

He didn't say this, but House seemed to hear it anyway.

“Visiting Philadelphia has many benefits,” House proclaimed, grandly, his warm leg pressing against Wilson’s. “I've always wanted to see The Franklin Institute. I've heard tell of Pennsylvania Dutch pastries. Coming here means I get to avoid my parents for the holiday by telling them I had to visit my poor distressed friend Wilson who was spending his first Christmas divorced from his wife in destitute misery.” He waved his hand as if to brush off this last one. “Maybe I’ll make you take me to the museum.”

Wilson’s heart pinched, unable to stop the soft smile that took over his face,

“I’ll take you to Reading Terminal tomorrow,” Wilson promised, laying a hand on House’s knee. “If we’re getting Pennsylvania Dutch, you have to try a whoopie pie.”

[loving08]

Love or Pain

Nicholas leister x reader

summary: Y/N and Nicholas has been best friends since childhood but Y/N started to have feelings for Nick. will she confess her feelings to him or the entry of Noah in their life would change everything??

A long chapter**

*SMUT WARNING*

Part 9

It was a rainy day, the clouds in the sky outcast the sun, the rain was pouring but not very heavily, Y/N sat at the window in the room she was staying at Italy. she was looking outside the window, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain deeply in thoughts, she sighed and looked down at her phone.

She had just ended a call with her parents, since day one she has come here, her parents had called her everyday to know about her days and herself and she really felt better talking with them but today it was a complicated feeling she's feeling right now. her parents has informed her that they are having a celebration party due to the success and profit of a project they had invested in so they wanted her to come back home to be there with them. she knows she should go back, its already been 5 months but.... she scared... scared to meet Nick again. she doesn't know how he is, or anything about him, she has asked her parents once or twice but they never really told her anything so she stopped asking them.

She was thinking about what she should do when Jenna came into her room, Y/N looked up at Jenna and then again looked down at her phone. Jenna took a sit in front of her and asked "why are you looking so gloomy Y/N, is something bothering you". Y/N looked up at her and said "I... just had a talk with my parents, they are celebrating for their success and because of that they want me to come back" Jenna nodded her already understanding what she's thinking and said "and you are debating if you should go or not since its a party your family is organizing and obviously Nick's family will also be invited, and you are not sure to see him again" Y/N nodded her head and looked out of the window, she doesn't want to admit it but she's missing Nick, more than anything, she thought she might forget him or atleast lose the feelings she had for him but it seems like being away from him has made those feeling to grow even more stronger than before.

Jenna sighed and said "Y/N I will be honest with you okay, you know when I heard about what had happened I was angry and that's why I thought maybe you going away from Nick will might help you but since you have come here it feels like you lost a part of youself, it seems to me like you have left a piece of you behind. You are miserable without him Y/N and.... you didn't even heard about his feeling at all, we all have just assumed that Nick doesn't loves you but do we really know if its true or not" Y/N turned her head and looked at Jenna, Yeah what she's saying was true but Y/N was scared of his response, what if its a rejection, she doesn't wanted to know about that. Jenna looked at Y/N and said "I think you should go, we should go back, you need an answer Y/N, even a little closure but I will not force you, whatever your decision is I will always support you okay" she put her hand above Y/N's and gave her a gentle squeeze and left.

Y/N thought about all the things Jenna said and decided that she is right, she can't hide from Nick forever, and she needs closure and then decided they will go back. she told Jenna and later informed her parents that they are coming back tomorrow. Y/N's parents were delighted when they got to know that she's coming back, and they knows its also time for her and Nick to meet.

Y/N and Jenna reached their hometown airport around 8 in the morning, both were jet lag and Jenna directly took a cab and promised Y/N that she will come to the party later tonight.

When Y/N reached her home she saw all the decorating and smiled to herself, finally.... she's home. she goes inside and instantly brought into a hug by her parents as soon as they saw her and, then they talked about everything she did in Italy, after talking for an hour or so Y/N took her leave to get some rest. she lay at her bed and thinks how everything will go and then fall asleep. Y/N woke up later in the evening and started to get ready for the party, while getting ready she was feeling excited as well as nervous, excited for meeting her friends and nervous for meeting Nick after such a long time. A little knock at her door brought her back to reality and she goes to open her door and saw her mom, she let her inside and her mom said "oh my, you look so beautiful darling". Y/N smiled at her mom and thanked her. Her mom tells her "sweetie after the party ends or when you will want to end the night and rest, go to our other house through our backyard, since it will a long night you will not be able to rest here properly okay, now c'mom let's go down stairs everyone's here already". Y/N nodded her head and they left her room.

Downstairs people were mingling with each other, Nick has also arrived with his family and looked around to see if Y/N is here or not but gets disappointed when he doesn't see her and lefts his family to go near his friends, just when he reached his friends the whole hall become silent, he was confused why everyone was quiet and looked at one of his friends and looked at the direction they were looking and his breath got hitched when he looked up the stairs, Y/N with her mom were descending down the stairs, she was wearing a red dress that was showing her figure perfectly with a sweetheart neck, she was looking heavenly beautiful, and Y/N's breath too got hitched when she looked directly at Nick, making eye contact with each other, its like they were in their own world. Y/N was the one who broke their intense eye contact and greeted all the other guests who came up to congratulate them with her parents and a little later goes in the direction her friends were.

Nick's back was turned to her but he felt her even before she reached them and turned to face her. when she reached her friends, she hugged and kissed their cheeks and gave them a big smile, yes she did had fun in Italy but still she missed her friends very much. she was intentionally avoiding Nick's eyes and when Jenna saw what she's doing, she looked at Y/N and gave her a smriks and said "C'mom guys let's go to the bar" and take their friends away, leaving Nick and Y/N alone. Y/N wanted to leave too but knew that will make things awkward so she turned towards him and gave him a small smile and said "Hey Nick, have you been well". Nick felt his heart beat a little faster seeing her smile at him and gave her a big smile in return and nodded his head. A tense moment began to appear and Y/N sense it so she gave him a nod and said "well enjoy yourself then, I should go to my mom" and turned and left him there.

The party was going very well and it was already around 11 at night, Y/N was still tired from the jet lag and told her mom she's going to her room and calling it a night, she then bid her friends her goodbyes and left the party and goes to their other house and step out of her heels. when she reached her room, she took out her earrings and was about to reach for the dress zipper when a knock came at her door. she furrowed her brows and turned, when she saw Nick standing at the door, he took a step inside and locked the door behind him. Y/N looked at him and the door and said "Nick what are you doing here, did you need something". Nick just quietly stared at her and she gulped at her nerves, she knows what Nick's doing here and now she's scared, she looked down at her feet avoiding his eyes.

Nick sighed and said "you left Bee, you actually left, why..... why did you do that" she just continued to look down, tears started to form in her eyes, Nick came closer to her and lift up her chin and said "how can you do that Y/N, do you even know how much it was hurting me, to be here without you, it was hell Y/N hell, everyday I wanted to give up but the little hope I had that you will come back wouldn't let me" and let out a soft sob. Y/N gently wiped his tears and puts her hands on his face and said " I had no choice left Nick, everything was hurting too much and after confessing to you I didn't knew what to do, I didn't wanted to hear your rejection and knowing that I ruined our friendship too was way too much for me to handle all at once. I had to leave Boo".

"Who said you ruined our friendship or that I was going to reject your confession" at that Y/N looked up at him confused and said "were you not in love with Noah I have seen you guys, how you both interacted with each other and, and...." Nick softly touched her cheeks and said "I want to confess something" Y/N nodded her head. Nick took a deep breath and said "I have felt something about you for a very long time Bee but.... didn't knew what it really was, I always told myself how can I think about you like that, you are my best friend I shouldn't have those feelings towards you, I thought you will never like or love me in a romantic way at all.... but when you said that you do love me, I felt alive..." and looked down at her with so much love "I love you Bee, I love you so much, and nothing and nobody, not even time can change that, this earth is like a hell for me but you.... you are my heaven in this earth Bee, someone up there must be watching out for me you know, because they sent heaven's most beautiful and kindest angel into my life....., and you wanna know the best and the happiest I have ever felt was.... that moment when I discovered you loved me too. I know I have hurted you but I will show you and let you know how much I really loves you and I will never stop trying because.... when you find the one, you never give up" he gently put his forehead with her and lovingly said " I have always loved you Bee and I will always love you until my last breath".

Y/N was an emotional mess now, she can't believe what she's hearing, Nick, her Nick loves her back, he had loved her too. she wrapped her arms around him and rests her head in his chest listening to his heartbeat and calmed herself. A few mins later they both have stopped crying but they stayed in each other embrace with small smiles in their faces. Nick lowered his face near her ear and asked "Bee.... can I kiss you", Y/N took a step back and looked at his face, the loving and adoration look he had and slowly nodded her head.

Nick gently puts his hands on her cheeks and slowly brought his lips closer to her and softly brushes against it, after confirming she's not gonna step back, he kissed her properly, the kiss was nothing like they imagined, it was even better, it was passionate and loving and even more, a second later the kiss grew intense, Nick pulled Y/N closer and deepened the kiss. He started to walk her back towards the wall and pinned her there, Y/N broke apart from him, gasping for air, both were breathless. Nick started to kiss her in the jaw and little by little towards her neck, and then he sucked there. A soft gasp left Y/N mouth when he sucked at a particular soft spot and realizing it he sucked harder, and then stepped back, looking down at the mark he left, feeling satisfied, he then looked at her face, seeing the daze look, he let out a quiet groan and hold her hand and lead her towards the bed, pulled her closer, turning her back towards him and goes to her zipper to pulled it down.

He slowly pulled it down and quietly whispered in her "are you sure darling, we can stop if you want" Y/N shook her head and said "no its okay, I'm okay" and then... he finally pulled down the zipper and helped her out of it. His eyes racked through her body from up to down and let out a sigh, he knew that she's beautiful but this, damn... even words can't describe her beauty.

He came closer to her and kissed her again but this time with more hunger. he then gently lay her at bed and started to kiss down her collarbone, reaching above her valley of her breasts, he looked up at her, silently asking for her permission, she nodded her head slowly, watching him as he moves his hand behind her and undone her red lacey bra and throw it somewhere in the room, he gently palmed one of her breasts in his hand and give it a small squeeze, Y/N was breathing heavily and let out a gasp when Nick puts his mouth on her nipple and sucked and bite it roughly.

He removes his mouth from her nipple with pop sound and gives the same treatment to her other breast. He then started to kiss down her stomach and when he reached near her underwear, he gently removed it, Y/N was gasping for air, she was feeling pleasurable already and doesn't seems she can wait any longer. she let out a small whimper and said "Nick... I... I need more" Nick heard her and nodded his head, he started to kiss her inner thighs, and reached near her core and slightly lick it, she was already so wet for him, he then firmly sucks her there, Y/N let out moan at that, feeling very high and grabbed his hair. he started to suck harder when he realized she's near, he gave her a few more deep sucks when she let out a loud moan and came, Nick licked her up and move above her and looks down at her.

Her chest fall up and down and her eyes were closed, he gently pampered her face with kisses and waited for her breathing to get normal a little. Y/N opened her eyes and looked at Nick's eyes and gave him a small smile, Nick gave her a peck on her lips, and again kissed her and then suddenly insert a finger inside her, Y/N let out a small moan which he swallowed it and started to stretch her out, then inserts a second finger and crossed it. Y/N was not being able to form any words, she was already feeling so much pleasure that she can't imagine what Nick's really doing to her. She opened her cloudy eyes, looking at him, she let out a moan and said " I...ah...I want....um.. I want you Nick, please" she can't wait any longer. her core was throbbing, desperate for him, she wants to feel him inside her now. Nick licked his lips and said " I know sweetheart, I know, I'm gonna give it to you baby".

Nick stepped back and removed his shirt and pants and walked out of his boxer, totally naked. he came closer and grabbed his cock and gave it a few pumps and then lined it up at her entrance. Y/N let out such a loud moan when he pushed into her abruptly, plumbing deep, her soaked channel providing no resistance to his deep thrust, pulling him into her hilt with a ripple of excitement. Nick let out a groaned, slowly thrusting into her. Y/N clung to his shoulder and Nick firmly grabbed her waist. He waited for her to feel the pleasure again and when she did he started to thrust in to her deeply and roughly. Y/N was a moaning mess, her eyes rolled back and she was grabbing onto him tightly, already feeling a pressure started to build up and said " Nick oh my...I'm.. I'm gonna...ah...cum...oh god". Nick started to thrust more roughly and faster and said "yes baby cum for me, let me know how much pleasure I gave you, let me feel your cum around me" Y/N clenched her soft walls around his length and his thrust started to grow clumsier and more sloppy, nearing his own end. "Fuck....oh my god...ah." Y/N cursed digging her nails onto his biceps and came hard and a few more thrust and Nick too came as hard as her.

Nick plops on top of her, both breathing heavily, then slights down to the side and pulled her closer to him and hugged her tightly, her body felt light on top of him, breathing gradually became even, Nick sighed and caresses her hair softly. "are you okay baby, I didn't hurt you anywhere" Y/N looked up at him lovingly and gave him a smile "no you didn't, and....it was amazing" and they both let out a small laugh.

A little later Y/N let out a yawn and closed her eyes drifting off to sleep, Nick looked down and smile at her with so much love and adoration and said "I love you so much Bee, I will always love you...., have a very sweet dream my love" and kissed her forehead, closing his eyes, holding her closer to him, feeling content again and drift off to sleep too.

Epilogue

[tictac-murder-spaghetti]

Mother Stands for Comfort - Lifetime Achievement Award Oneshot #1

As part of my effort to uh, actually post here again, there’s that Strychnine backstory piece I said I was writing forever ago! Finally finished it :D

Go little lab boy go

Content Warnings: Minor whump, lab whump, verbal and mental abuse child abuse, dehumanization gore, implied character death

Story under the cut!

She hadn’t run a test all day. #07 kept expecting it, for her to ask him to climb back onto the exam table, to ask him to stretch out his arms for more shots or lay down so she could cut back open his still healing vivisection scars, take another look at the black goo that filled him where organs should have been- but she didn’t. The closest thing she’d done was ask him to pull off his thin hospital shirt for a moment so she could change the bandages wrapped around his torso. Beyond that she’d… left him alone. He wasn’t used to it, but it was nice.

She’d stayed elsewhere in the lab all day, back turned to him as she cleaned tools and mixed chemicals, only stopping once to get him lunch without speaking to him at all.

It was almost peaceful.

#07 didn’t have the best track of time, but it was late by the time Belladonna finally came back to him, playing house with a couple random glass vials he’d found.

"Now #07, sweetie, I need to talk to you. You're merely a rough draft, you've served your purpose and it's time for us to move forward in my innovation. You've got a brilliant mind and an even better heart, and those parts would serve the project well, so I'm going to... repurpose you."

#07 gave his mother a confused look, his yellow eyes wide, "What does that mean Belladonna?"

"Now, don't be scared #07, you're merely a step on the road to perfection. While you're not the one, you will help me towards him. It will only hurt a little bit. Now go get ready, please, sweetie, go get yourself up on the exam table now."

"Okay Belladonna."

#07 turned and made his way towards the metal exam table, the straps on it used to hold him down countless times while he'd laid patiently as a scalpel drove through his chest or she poked him with syringes full of glowing substances that he'd have no way of knowing what they contained. He was always good. He was always perfect, why wasn't he perfect now? He stopped in front of the table, back still turned to her as he looked down at his gloves. He was a child, yes, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t unaware. He’d put up with Belladonna’s procedures for years- his entire life, and it was finally starting to click. This wasn’t how a parent was supposed to treat their child. She’d talk about him sometimes, the one he was created to make up for, and she’d never treated him like this. He got to go to the park, see the sun and get ice cream, he got to read the books that Belladonna had only read to him once or twice whenever he wanted, he got a name.

“I- I don’t want to do that.”

“What did you say, #07? Get on the table.”

There was a threatening tone to her voice, one he was all too familiar with.

“You’re going to hurt me.”

“Not more than is needed. This is all just procedure-”

He cut her off, turning around to face her. His gloves were unbuckled.

“You’re gonna hurt me and I’m going to disappear.”

“Don’t be silly #07, it’s not like I can continue with you. You’re not my son. You’re broken. You are not human. So yes, you’ll go away, dear #07, but the next one may be the one to make it.”

“You hurt me-”

“#07, stop this! I don’t need your guilt trip, gods, maybe it was better that the previous ones couldn’t talk. Get on the table or I will force you onto it!”

#07 just gave her one more pleading look before he peeled the gloves off of his hands, black goo already running from his palms and sizzling as it hit the tiled floor. He ran at her, grabbing her left hand tightly in his own, feeling flesh peel away under his grasp. Dr. Belladonna screamed, trying to shake his grip as her own red blood mingled with the black acid running across her hands.

“YOU LITTLE MONSTER! I SHOULD HAVE SCRAPPED YOU THE FIRST DAY- WHEN YOU CAME OUT LIKE THIS!”

She attempted to toss him off again, but he kept his grip, feeling bone as his grip just tightened. She grabbed him at the hips, lifting him up quite aggressively and slamming the small boy down onto the metal table, making a desperate grab for the leather restraints that perfectly fit #07’s small size. He didn’t stop struggling from underneath her, crying as he desperately grabbed at the front of her labcoat.

She screamed again as a hand went straight through the fabric of her coat, searing directly into the flesh right near her collarbones. He kicked out wildly with both legs, causing Dr. Belladonna to recoil, #07 scrabbling to sit up and stare at Dr. Belladonna with wild eyes. He barely knew what he was doing, driven purely by panic and desperation and rage.

He launched himself at her, both mother and son hitting the hard marble floor as she tumbled backwards from his bodyweight. The noise when her head hit the floor was a horrible, dull thunk, but he could barely hear it over his own scream. He straddled her waist as he kept clawing at her, Dr Belladonna raising her arms to try and protect her face. Her struggles grew weaker as he continued, tears streaming down his face and breathing ragged until the rage subsided and the horror flooded back in.

He tried to stand, to back away from her, but he couldn’t, collapsing to the ground not far from her body and attempting to reign in his breathing.

He couldn't tell the difference between what was her blood and what was the acid dripping from his own hands. She just lay prone in a growing puddle of black, #07 himself kneeling on the slick ground, hands pressed to the cold tile floor. His hands, up to the wrist, were covered in a thin dark sheen, the same that coated his mother’s arm and saturated her lab coat as she lay there, unmoving. He couldn't tell if she was breathing.

"Belladonna?” No no, doctor, she’d be mad, she’d want him calling her doctor.

#07 crawled on his hands and knees, ignoring the wet squelching of the goo underneath him as he went to kneel beside her. Tears streamed down his face, dark as the acid that dripped from his hands as he raised a hand to gently brush a strand of her hair out of her face and touch her cheek in the foolish hope that it'd wake her up. Instead, the young boy recoiled as his hand went straight through flesh, more blood pooling around his fingers as her skin peeled away under his touch, skittering backwards in the puddle, smearing blood and gore across the floor as he did so.

"Doctor-" his sobs took away the rest of that sentence before he could even get it out. He pulled his knees towards his chest, curling into as small of a ball as possible as his hands still dripped, staining the knees of his shorts black. His hair fell across his face as his chest heaved with panicked breaths, he'd- he'd... his creator was lying there- he'd done it- she'd tried to. He was eight. He was eight years old and he could barely process what had happened. What he'd done. What she'd tried to do. #07 fell to his side, not caring about the slick floor under him or the way the gore splashed across his face and hair as he did so. He closed his eyes. He cried himself to sleep.

When #07 awoke, it was still dark. She still lay in the puddle. His hands still dripped an inky black as he spotted his discarded gloves a couple feet away, pushed aside by the scuffle. The boy got to his feet, slowly, as he grabbed the gloves and put them back on, securing every buckle, every latch and strap, just like Belladonna had done the day she put them on, telling him it was for his own safety. He was still covered in gore. He didn't need to look at himself to know that. He could feel the way it clung to his clothes, to his bare skin, the smell of bleach and burnt flesh overpowering all else. He didn’t know what to do. Where to go. He was a construct built to obey his creator and he had killed her.

There wasn’t anything for him to grab, anything to remember the place he’d spent the first 8 years of his life before he trudged towards the heavy metal door of the lab.

He had no clue how the door mechanisms worked, and while he was probably smart enough to figure them out, he was tired. He just- he wanted to be done.

#07 peeled one of his gloves off again, pressing his still bloody palm to the metal until it started to bubble away- the door creaking open once he’d demolished the lock.

The boy trudged through the door, nearly tripping and winding back up on his knees as soon as he stepped foot onto cold dirt. Real dirt, not cold marble tile, and there was a real sky, dark and cloudy but not shining through layers of reinforced skylight glass. Part of it made his heart- the only real part of him, ache. But it was beautiful.

And now, he could be a part of it.

[the-dragon-hearted]

Fairy Tail but they're all on bad reality cable shows

Some Reporter Guy: So, Mavis, how do you keep yourself looking so young? The ladies want to know -

Mavis: *smiling at the camera*

Acnologia: what kind of question is that? The ladies?? Young... What - whY would you -

Mavis: Well, first you have to commit a mortal sin against God.

*Question pops up on the board*

*Both Natsu and Gajeel slam their button*

Natsu: 43!!

Gajeel: THEY ASKED FOR A PRESIDENT -

Erza: Now when baking a cake. It is important to utilize the utmost care when stirring your batter.

Jellal: babe. Babe... babe you're killing the batter. BABE! BABE, I THINK YOU DID IT! E R Z A IT'S ON THE CEILING STOP STIRRING

Mira: And on today's episode of "Help, I have a stalker" we have long-time guest Gray Fullbuster. How's the situation been going, Gray?

Gray: Ima be honest, idk how I got here.

Mira: Oh?

Gray: Yeah, Juvia said to hop in the car and I kind of just went with it.

Mira: Juvia... your... stalker?

Gray: Oh yeah she moved in. She kept breaking my locks and it was getting annoying.

Makarov: And now, our largest jackpot yet, but who will win the prize?

Cana: It's obviously me, I'm going to buy so much booze once I'm out of here

Mira: ya know, I could use a bit of extra income, just to stay safe.

Lucy: TAKE THAT MONEY AND I'LL ACTUALLY KILL YOU I NEED TO PAY RENT -

*A new question appears*

*Natsu lunges for the button and slams it*

Natsu: "43!!"

Gajeel *slamming his head": oh my GOD STOP ANSWERING, THEY ASKED FOR A SONG TITLE - WE'RE GONNA LOSE

Happy: So... Gildarts. The tests are in

Gildarts: *Nervously sweating*

Happy: You...

Gildarts: *chewing his nails*

Happy: Are...

Gildarts: *hyperventilating*

Happy: Not. The Father.

Gildarts: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Jet: Hi there everyone, and welcome back to a new episode of "Are They Gay?"

Freed: *direct eye contact with camera* Yes. There we go. Show over.

Droy: No... unless it's Jet. Like I'd kiss Jet, but like in a bro way...

Laxus: *shoves camera away*

Macao: I love woman. I LOVE woman

Jet: *behind the camera* isn't Wakaba co-parenting with you?

Macao: And? A bro can't move in and help raise a kid anymore? Come on Jet, I thought you were more progressive then that -

Natsu: *pressing the button* the answer is 43!!

Gajeel: *leaning over his stand, actively restraining himself* If you press that button and say 43, one more damn time... I will break 43 of your bones - and then eat them.

Charle: And going to rank #3 on the list of People I Hate, we have Loke.

Loke: WHAT!?

Wendy: Charle, NO-

Charle: HE KNOWS WHAT HE DID

Like: I DON'T ACTUALLY -

Charle: YOU TOLD MY CHILD ABOUT ALL OF YOUR LITTLE ONE-NIGHT STANDS YOU LITTLE SHIT-

Wendy: Im not your child! I hatched you out of an egg!

Loke: *Insulted* Whoa whoa whoa, I didn't tell her ALL of them! And I left out all the important details!

Charle: I WILL MOVE YOU TO RANK 2 SO HELP ME-

Porlyusica: *At the judge's stand, reading glasses on, skimming through summaries*

Zeref: *Takes the stand*

Porlyusica: *slamming the gavel* Jail. She was hundreds of years younger than you

Lyon: *Takes the stand*

Porlyusica: *gavel slam* Jail. She is too young for you.

Bora: *Takes the stand*

Porlyusica: *gavel slams twice* Jail. And more Jail just in case that wasn't enough.

Mest: *Taking the stand nervously* "Hi... "

Porlyusica: *stares at the camera* I want this man executed immediately. And if you won't do it I will. Look at Wendy again, and I'll skin you alive.

Natsu: *slamming the button* 43!!

Gajeel: THAT'S IT! I'M KILLING HIM!! I DON'T CARE HOW MANY YEARS I SERVE-

Gameshow host: That is correct! 43 is indeed the answer and with that, you've won the jackpot!

Natsu: *grinning* See! I knew it was gonna work eventually

Gajeel: *rolling his sleeves up* Oh fuck no you're still dying -

Jellal: Erza, maybe we should take on a self defense show instead of a baking show -

Erza: Maybe you should go make a show with your fiance.

[call-me-maggie13]

"Are you sure it’s okay I’m here?" Ava straightens her sweater for the fourth time, picking nonexistent lint from it.

"Ava, of course I’m certain. Do you need a minute?" Beatrice slowly unbuckles Diana from her car seat, easing her out of it gently so she doesn’t wake her. Once she has Diana in her arms, Ava reaches into the backseat for her winter jacket and guides the sleeping girl’s arms through it. They both freeze when she shifts, holding their breath until she settles.

Diana hasn’t been sleeping, sleep regression, her pediatrician had called it. It’s normal, she had assured them.

Nothing about this felt normal.

"No. No, I’m alright." Ava bounces on her toes, shakes her arms out. "Unless, do you need a minute? Are you good, Bea?"

"Ava," Beatrice laughs, facing her. "We can take a few minutes before we go in. Do you want to take some deep breaths with me?"

"I’m not a toddler, Beatrice. I don’t need deep breaths." Ava rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"Alright. Let’s go."

"Maybe - maybe we should wait a minute. Just because like, what if they’re doing something? Or - or - or - like, what if they aren’t here? Are you sure they’re here, Bea? Maybe we should wait to see."

"Ava. Breathe. You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. We can leave, if you’d prefer." Beatrice tucks Ava’s hair behind her ear.

"No, I want to stay, it’s just - " Ava sighs, kicks at the snow in the driveway. "What if they don’t like me?"

"Darling."

"No. They’re - they are your parents, Bea. Like, them not liking me would be a really big thing. If they don’t like me - "

"It doesn’t matter if they don’t like you, because I like you." She holds her arm out for Ava, kissing the top of her head. Beatrice has never brought anyone home before.

She’s never had anyone to bring home.

Not like this. Not anyone this important to her.

It’s terrifying.

Martha is watching from the window beside the door, Beatrice has caught her twice already. She’s going to pretend she wasn’t when they get to the door, probably pretend to come running down the hall like she was in another room.

"Are you ready?" Ava nods but Beatrice doesn’t let her go, not yet. She needs another moment. Another moment of just them. Before the beautiful chaos of the Masters’ household. Before the craziness that comes with the holidays.

She loves Shannon’s parents. She loves that she became a part of their family. But she’s not afraid to admit they can be a little much.

"Okay. Let’s do this."

"Should we get the bags or…" Beatrice shakes her head, taking Ava’s hand and leading her up the front stoop. Ava knocks and squeezes Beatrice’s hand in hers.

Martha takes a moment to answer the door, despite Beatrice knowing she’s holding the handle on the other side. She counts to ten before Martha swings the door open.

"Beatrice!" She cheers and Diana flinches at the sudden outburst. Ava and Beatrice shush Martha at the same time.

"If you wake her, you have to deal with her," Beatrice threatens. At least, she tries to. It’s hard to seem threatening when she’s whispering. "Martha, this is Ava. Ava, this is my - this is Martha."

They shake hands and exchange pleasantries before Beatrice asks if they can come in.

"Oh yes, right, of course. Come on in. Rich will get your bags in a moment, he’s wrapping the last of his gifts in the den. You know him, always waits until the last second to do anything. You must be cold, could I get you a tea? Hot chocolate? Coffee? Anything?"

"No, thank you, Martha. Unless," Beatrice turns to Ava. "Do you want something?"

"I’m good. Thanks."

"Right, well. You three will be in your bedroom, Beatrice - "

"What? What about the guest room?"

"Turned one into a home gym and the other into Rich’s main office, he tries to work mostly from home these days. He’s getting older, you know."

"Heard that." Rich joins them in the foyer. "Beatrice, welcome home. You must be Ava, yes? And I’m going to assume the little lump in your arms is baby Diana?"

"Beatrice, why don’t you show Ava around and Rich will get your bags, yeah? Unless, are you tired? Do you need a moment?" Beatrice knows that look. Martha is plotting again.

"I think we should get settled first, if that’s alright?"

"Yes, of course. You know where everything is." Martha motions to the staircase and Beatrice starts up them, checking that Ava is following.

Her bedroom is just how she’d left it. Plain yellow walls with minimal decorations, bed centered on the far wall, curtains drawn in the windows. The pictures on her cork board carrying a thin layer of dust and curling about the edges.

"I can take the couch, if you’d prefer." They’ve shared a bed before, Beatrice isn’t certain why this time feels different, why the thought of sleeping beside Ava makes her stomach hurt. But it does. It feels… realer, almost. Like sharing a bed with Ava in her childhood bedroom is crossing some invisible line.

"Absolutely not, Bea. If anyone’s sleeping on a couch, it will be me."

"You’re not sleeping on the couch, Ava. You’re a guest." Beatrice rolls her eyes as she slowly shifts Diana to her bed, kissing her forehead before tucking the duvet around her shoulders.

"I - I think I’d sleep better with you here…" Ava admits, her voice barely a whisper. "I just - I don’t do new places well."

"Then I’ll stay. Yes?" Ava nods softly, Beatrice holds her arms out and Ava curls around her before Beatrice teases softly. "Was it as bad as you thought it would be?"

"They seem great. Martha is very eager."

"She always has been."

"And Rich. He’s - he’s good?"

"Very."

Ava hums, burying her nose in Beatrice’s neck. Beatrice kisses her temple and rubs a hand up her back.

"Do you want to take a nap?" Ava murmurs into Beatrice’s neck. Beatrice tries to suppress the shiver from Ava’s voice vibrating against her. She’s unsuccessful.

"I would, yes."

Neither of them moves. Beatrice tangles her hand into the hair at the base of Ava’s head and scratches her scalp softly, Ava scrunches the back of Beatrice’s parka in her fists.

Nothing exists in this moment. Nothing but their hearts beating against each other. Nothing but their bodies warming each other. Nothing but two souls mingling.

Beatrice isn’t sure when it happened, but Ava fell asleep. Standing up. Tangled in her arms. Ava fell asleep.

"Ava," Beatrice nudges her softly, trying to wake her. She earns a disgruntled whine. "Ava, wake up. You just have to get to the bed then you can go back to sleep."

Another whine.

"Ava, please."

"No," Ava whines and buries her face deeper in the crook of Beatrice’s neck. "Carry me?"

Beatrice sighs but nods, crouching slightly and leading Ava’s legs around her hips. She swallows, ignoring the heat burning in her stomach. It’s three steps, the journey from where they were to the edge of the bed that Beatrice settles Ava on.

It might as well have been three hundred.

Ava doesn’t let go when Beatrice tries to set her down, whining and squeezing tighter around her.

This is where Diana gets it from. Beatrice realizes. The thought makes her chest ache.

"Ava, just let me take off our shoes so we don’t get mud in the bed, please." Ava whines but pulls away just far enough to allow Beatrice to tug their shoes off before she turns into a koala again. "Okay, okay. Don’t wake Diana."

Ava hums and Beatrice struggles to maneuver them without bumping Diana. When she does, Ava crawls on top of her, legs slotting together laying completely on top of Beatrice. She presses a single warm kiss against Beatrice’s collarbone before she’s asleep again.

This is going to be a long week.

Read more below the break or here!

"What do you mean you got rid of the air mattress?"

Martha looks up from the cookie dough she’s rolling out and sighs.

"It was old, Beatrice. We had no need for it. Can you pull down the cookie cutters?" Martha motions to the cabinet with her rolling pin before resuming her work.

"What’s the big deal about it anyways?" Shannon asks from her seat on the counter. She’s eating chocolate chips out of the bag, an action Beatrice finds both reprehensible and disconcerting.

"There’s just - Forget it. I’ll sleep on the couch."

"No, you will not. And sneak a peek at your stocking? Absolutely not." Martha shares a look with Shannon, who tosses a chocolate chip at Beatrice’s head.

"Then - I - ugh."

"You sound like Shannon when she was sixteen, remember that? Ugh. You don’t understand. Ugh ugh ugh." Martha mocks and Beatrice can’t help but laugh.

"I was not that bad!" Shannon throws a chocolate chip at both of them as she giggles too.

"Bad at what?" Ava’s rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she steps into the kitchen, Diana clinging to her leg.

"Hey," Beatrice greets quietly, lifting Diana when she raises her arms up. "Morning, sleepyhead."

"You didn’t wake me." Ava leans heavily into Beatrice’s side, dropping her head on her shoulder with a yawn.

"You needed the sleep." Beatrice murmurs into her hair. Ava hums and winds an arm around her waist.

"Nannon," Diana whispers in Beatrice’s arms, waving at her half heartedly.

"Did you have a good nap, Diana?" Shannon reaches to take her from Beatrice, but Diana shakes her head and clings to Beatrice tighter. "Do you wanna make cookies?"

Diana shakes her head again, and her bottom lip quivers.

"Hey, it’s okay. No one’s going to make you do anything, patinho." Beatrice bounces Diana on her hip, continuing once Diana has dropped her head against her shoulder and tucked her thumb into her mouth. "Sorry. She’s a slow starter, you have to give her time to wake up. We can try again later?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Why don’t you show them around?" Martha offers instead, motioning to the door with her rolling pin.

Beatrice leads them to the hallway, starting the tour. Ava stops at every picture and asks about each one. Graduation photos, birthday parties, beach trips, mountain hikes, school award ceremonies, piano recitals, aikido tournaments.

"What’s this one?"

It’s Shannon and Beatrice, fifteen and thirteen respectively. Beatrice is looking at the person behind the camera, smiling politely, completely oblivious to the blur of Shannon plummeting toward her from above. It was only Beatrice’s second vacation with them, to a resort town on a beach somewhere. Beatrice had spent the first half of the trip apologizing and trying to make herself invisible.

Shannon had spent the entire trip torturing her mercilessly.

"Bea, I will bite you if you don’t relax. Just pick something."

"I - I don’t want to choose wrong."

"It’s a restaurant, not a marriage. Just pick one. Close your eyes and point to one."

"What if I choose wrong? What if it’s awful?"

"Nothing can be worse than starving to death. For real, I’m about to eat you."

Beatrice did as she was told, squeezed her eyes shut and pointed to a random place on the pamphlet. Shannon read the name out and Beatrice opened her eyes.

"Good job, Speedy."

"I’m wearing Shannon’s top. She had threatened to behead me if she caught me in her clothes again. That was her unsuccessful attempt at my decapitation."

Ava hums, but she doesn’t follow when Beatrice tries to lead her into the den.

"Are you alright?" Beatrice bumps her softly.

"Yeah. I just - was it always like this?"

"How do you mean?"

"Fighting over clothes. Guerrilla attacks. Trips to beaches. Swim competitions and aikido tournaments and pillow fights. Fresh baked cookies and projectile chocolate chips. Was it always like that?"

Ava never had any of that. Nothing was ever hers to fight over in the orphanage. It was always first come, first serve. Nothing belonged to anyone, everything belonged to no one. There were no arguments because squabbles resulted in punishment, and everyone would rather have nothing than risk punishment.

"Not always. Shannon and I fought a lot. And we could be brutal. I remember one time, I’d worn her favorite jumper to school and stained it and she screamed at me and told me she wished I had never moved in with them. But she also snuck me out of the house for ice cream and she taught me how to drive long before Rich or Martha was willing to and she would always, always apologize and tell me I was the best sister she could ever ask for.

"She taught me how to be human, in a sense. Because humans aren’t perfect, which meant I didn’t have to be either."

~*~

Ava meanders through the hallway, taking in the pictures lining the walls. Beatrice on Shannon’s shoulders in a swimming pool, Beatrice standing on the edge of a cliff, Shannon doing a cartwheel, Rich holding Shannon up by the ankle as a toddler, Shannon pushing Beatrice into a pool, Beatrice on a bike holding the handlebars so tightly her knuckles are white, Shannon holding up a pale arm and a bright blue cast, Beatrice hanging upside down on monkey bars, Shannon lobbing a ball at an unsuspecting Beatrice’s head, Rich holding Beatrice above his head and grinning, a laughing Shannon pinning a grinning Beatrice to the ground, Beatrice tackling Shannon, Shannon dumping a cup of water on Beatrice’s head, Beatrice holding up a trifold board and a blue ribbon, Shannon holding a hairbrush to her mouth and dancing on a table while Beatrice bounces in the foreground.

She drifts silently from room to room, taking it all in. It isn’t until she finds Beatrice’s perfect script etched into a doorframe that she really comes to a stop. It’s a height chart. Shannon’s etchings start at age one and a half, climbing the doorframe all the way to age twenty-two, the handwriting switches from a careful script to an illegible scribble around age six, but Ava can’t be certain because she truly can’t read it.

Beatrice’s careful handwriting starts at age ten, stretching up the doorframe all the way to age twenty-three. Mary has two scratches on the chart, age seventeen and age twenty-four.

Ava traces the fading names under the pad of her thumb, reading each scratch carefully, pausing on the newest addition.

Diana, 28 months

"I hope you don’t mind." Martha nods to the mark. "She saw it yesterday and asked about it."

"It’s alright, I hope you didn’t feel like you had to."

"It’s the family height chart, Ava. I’ll take your measurement if you would like."

"Oh, no, that’s alright. I don’t want to impose." Ava is stopped halfway through the doorway by Martha’s response.

"You’re family, too. It would be incomplete without you."

If Martha notices the tears in Ava’s eyes while she takes her measurement, she doesn’t say anything.

~*~

"Shannon, don’t slouch."

"God, Mom. I’m not slouching."

"Fix your shoulders."

"Mom!" Everyone laughs when Shannon whines, Beatrice motioning for Shannon to straighten her back too.

"And your back. Just like Beatrice. You can do it."

"Just say she’s your favorite," Shannon mumbles but she’s smiling brightly when she sticks her tongue out at Beatrice.

"She’s about to be the only one in the will if you don’t fix your posture."

Shannon’s laugh bubbles out of her like a pot boiling over, slowly spreading across the room and pulling a reaction from everyone. She laughs so hard she spills her wine in her lap.

"What can I say, Shannon. I am the superior child." Beatrice sticks her tongue out like a child before dissolving into giggles. She’s curled around Ava, dragging one hand through Ava’s hair and holding a glass of wine in the other.

Shannon hurls a decorative pillow at her, missing spectacularly and slamming it into Ava’s shoulder.

"Girls!" Martha exclaims. Ava tenses. No family is this perfect. This is not real, of course not. This is when the ugly parts come out. "If your insist on throwing things, either go outside or put away the wine. This is a new rug and, if you’ll notice, it is very white and your wine is very red."

Shannon narrows her eyes at Beatrice, wiggling her eyebrows before shooting out of Mary’s arms and sprinting to the back door. Beatrice is right on her heels. Their wine glasses are slid haphazardly onto the kitchen island while they tug their boots and coats on, shrieking like children and shoving each other.

"Are you coming?" Beatrice pants as she leans over the bar. Ava checks behind her, there’s no one there. "Ava?"

"Oh. Do you want me to?" Mary smacks the back of Ava’s head lightly before pulling her to her feet.

"Of course she does, you idiot. Now put your coat on so you don’t get sick.

They tumble out the back door, down the slippery deck stairs and into the freshly laid snow. Shannon scoops the snow into her hand and packs it into a ball, sending it hurtling through the air at Beatrice, who squeals when it blasts apart on her back.

Beatrice sprints after her, tackling her to the ground and shoving a handful of snow down the front of Shannon’s coat. Mary lifts the giant ball of snow she’d been building and drops it over Beatrice’s head. They all shriek.

"Ava! Help!" Beatrice is being wrestled to the ground by Mary while Shannon packs a snowball and attempts to shove it under Beatrice’s coat. When Ava doesn’t respond, they all pause and turn to her. "Are you alright?"

Beatrice’s cheeks and nose are bright red and she has snow in her eyelashes and hair, her breath coming out in short clouds of smoke. She looks beautiful. She looks alive. She’s alight with something Ava’s never seen in her before.

"Yeah. I’ve just never played in snow before."

"Never? In your entire life?" Ava shakes her head.

"Not a single time ever?"

"She just said no, dumbass."

"Dumbass? You married me, what’s that say about you?" Shannon scoops snow up and slams it over Mary’s head. Beatrice slips from under them and joins Ava in watching them.

"Do you want to learn how to pack a snowball?" Ava nods and Beatrice squats and scoops up two handfuls of snow, offering one to Ava before walking her through it. "Now you just throw it like a baseball at Shannon’s head."

Ava sends the snow flying through the air and rupturing against Shannon’s back. Shannon spins around and shouts, making her own snowball and throwing it back. They chase each other until their lungs burn and their legs feel like jelly and their fingers are frozen.

"Mama?" Ava spins back to the deck where Diana is stood barefoot in her pajamas.

"Hey, baby," Ava pants as she runs to her. "Did we wake you?"

Behind her, Shannon tackles Mary and they roll in the snow. Diana shivers as she tries to watch them.

"I play?" Diana points to the pile that is Shannon and Mary, eyes wide and bright and eager.

"Let’s get you in some warmer clothes first, yeah?"

"Do you want help?" Beatrice skids to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, hair wild and wet and eyes shining.

"I think we can handle it, yeah, Di?"

"Dada go?"

"Let me help."

Twenty minutes later, Diana is bundled in an old pair of snow pants from when Shannon was a toddler, a winter coat on top of a pullover with the hood drawn up over her dinosaur beanie with matching gloves, two pairs of socks and warm snow boots.

"Think you put enough clothes on her? She’s practically a snowball herself." Mary teases while Diana climbs carefully down the deck stairs.

"I don’t want her to get sick," Ava explains quietly, a little defensive.

"Hey," Beatrice bumps their shoulders, "she’s taunting you, she doesn’t mean anything by it."

"I know, I just - maybe I should’ve made her wait until the morning. It’s really cold."

"The snow’s the same temperature regardless. She won’t remember if she gets sick from this, she’ll remember the time her mum let her stay up past bedtime to play in the snow."

Ava nods, Beatrice is right. But she will still feel so guilty if Diana gets sick from this.

"Are you coming?" Beatrice asks from the bottom of the steps.

"In a minute."

Beatrice nods before scooping Diana up and tossing her in the air, setting her back down and chasing after her. Diana screams and runs as fast as her tiny legs can carry her, absolutely delighted, even when she falls face first in the snow. Beatrice helps her up and wipes the snow from her face, talking to her quietly. Diana bounces as she responds and Beatrice helps her find a patch of untouched snow, guiding her carefully onto her back and doing a jumping-jack, cheering when Diana repeats the motion in the snow. Beatrice lifts her up and shows her the snow angel she just made and they both celebrate.

"No man, mama?" Diana yells across the backyard and Ava smiles and nods in response. Beatrice motions for her to join them, but Ava stays rooted where she is and watches Beatrice start the base and help Diana push it around to make it bigger.

The back door opens with a squeak and Martha steps onto the deck, coming to a stop beside Ava and watching Shannon chase Mary and Beatrice drop the middle of a snowman into place.

"Beatrice," Martha starts, only briefly glancing at Ava before continuing. "She’s good people, that one. She hasn’t always had it easy, I’m sure she’s told you. She’s had every reason to turn cold and hard, it would’ve made her life easier, that’s for sure. But she didn’t. She stayed warm and soft, she kept loving without asking for anything in return. That takes a lot of strength and, more importantly, courage."

"She’s so good with Diana. And Diana loves her. Sometimes more than me."

"As is the nature of children. They love and they grow, but babies always need their mothers."

"She’s not going to be a baby much longer." Martha frowns at Ava’s words but doesn’t take her eyes off Beatrice dropping the head of the snowman into place.

"She’ll always be your baby. Mine? They’re grew up and moved away and don’t come home nearly as much as I want them to, but they’re still my babies." Ava watches a single tear slide down Martha’s cheek. "And Beatrice? She might not be my blood, but she is my baby."

~*~

Diana is covered in icing. She’s even got it behind her ears. She has sprinkles in her hair and she keeps sneaking chocolate chips when she thinks no one is looking. But she is glowing, bright and lively while she explains her designs to Beatrice. She’s babbling, not even attempting to use real words, but Beatrice is nodding along and asking questions like it’s the most important thing in the world.

"You’re staring." Shannon swipes blue frosting across Ava’s cheek before returning to the cookie she’d been decorating, raising her voice a little and donning a feigned irritated tone. "God, Bea. Ava’s messier than the kid."

Beatrice looks up, eyes shining brighter than the night sky and smiles crookedly.

"Come ‘ere." She nods Ava to the sink where she wets a rag and wrings it out, steadying Ava’s face in her hand carefully and wiping the icing away so gently Ava briefly wonders if Beatrice thinks her skin is made of glass. Beatrice drops the rag into the sink when she’s satisfied, but her hand stays on Ava’s face, thumb tracing the apple of her cheek. Ava is certain she’s forgotten how to breathe.

"Alright, you two, save something for the honeymoon." A chocolate chip bounces off the back of Ava’s head. Beatrice grins and sticks her tongue out at Shannon, her hand falling away before finding Ava’s.

Is this what family is? Flying chocolate chips and snowball fights and names etched in a wall? Decorated cookies and Christmas movies and hot cocoa with extra marshmallows?

~*~

Diana loves Rich. Absolutely adores him. She follows him everywhere and has to do everything he does. If Rich is eating a cookie and watching the hockey game, Diana is right beside him doing the same. If Rich is drinking a cup of coffee and reading the paper, Diana is drinking hot chocolate and looking at the comic section.

It’s adorable.

Ava is wary, in the beginning. She doesn’t have a very reliable history with the men in her life and she doesn’t want Diana to grow attached to someone unreliable.

It isn’t until she finds them asleep in the recliner that she starts to trust him, picking up the picture book fallen to the floor next to them and setting it on the coffee table. When she drapes a blanket over them, Diana shifts and murmurs in her sleep and Rich instantly begins shushing her, rubbing her back slowly.

When they wake, Diana talks Rich into letting her give him a makeover, which goes about as well as any two year old giving a makeover could go. He has mascara and lipstick and blush all over his face, his nails messily painted a bright blue and butterflies clipped in his hair.

He wears it proudly.

~*~

"I don’t know if Beatrice told you but, in this family, we wear matching pajamas on Christmas morning." Martha passes out presents, pausing before handing Ava hers and continuing. "That means everyone. You don’t have to sleep in them, but you will be in them for pictures tomorrow. That is a threat."

Diana tears into hers immediately after being handed it but Ava stares at the box in her hands. It has her name on it.

"You got me matching pajamas?" Rich nods slowly at Ava’s question. "You want me in your pictures tomorrow?"

Shannon freezes, glancing from her parents to Beatrice, who’s knelt beside Diana and trying to help her open the box she’s determined to destroy. Beatrice has no idea what’s going on around her, completely absorbed in her interaction with Diana. But Shannon knows what Ava’s comment reminds them of. Beatrice’s first Christmas with them.

"I get pajamas?"

"Of course you do, honey."

"And I’m going to be in your pictures tomorrow?"

"If you want to, you will be, sugar."

"Where will I sit while you open presents?"

She was talking to Shannon, the pajama set clutched to her chest. Shannon looked to her parents for help.

"You’ll be opening your own presents, Bea."

"I - I get presents? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Bea. You got a lot of presents."

"I didn’t get anyone presents. I’m sorry, I didn’t know."

"Bea, you’re ten. You don’t have to get anyone presents. Just do what I do and tell mom and dad that your presence is the best present they could ever get." Shannon tried to make the words sound similar, hoping the pun would lighten the darkness swirling behind Beatrice’s eyes. It didn’t work as well as she hoped it would, but Beatrice smiled and nodded her head like she understood.

Later that night, Beatrice snuck into Shannon’s room and woke her up.

"What’s wrong?"

"Why did you get me presents?" She was so genuine Shannon’s heart shattered like a glass ornament.

"Because family gets each other presents."

"But I didn’t get you anything."

Shannon sat up and pulled the blanket back, patting the space next to her for Beatrice to sit.

"You gave me a sister, Bea. That’s plenty."

"And you want me to be your sister? You aren’t upset?"

"Why would I be upset?"

"I don’t know." Shannon wipes the tears from Beatrice’s cheeks and pulls her into her chest.

"I do want you to be my sister, Beatrice. I’m not upset about it. You’ll always be my sister, even if I’m super mad and tell you differently."

Beatrice nodded, but Shannon knew she didn’t believe her. Shannon didn’t need her to believe her, because she was going to prove it. She would spend the rest of her life proving it, if that’s what Beatrice needed.

Shannon fell asleep curled protectively around Beatrice, pressed against her back. When she woke the next morning, she watched Beatrice sleep and she realized she didn’t want anything for Christmas as much as she wanted Beatrice to look this peaceful all the time.

"You’re family, Ava," Shannon says, "We want you in the pictures on our walls and in the seats at our tables. We want you here, in every way you want to be, as long as you want to be here."

"That includes Diana." Diana looks up at her name and smiles crookedly at Rich, she’s torn through the gift paper and ripped the box open enough that her pajama set is starting to fall out. Beatrice brushes the hair from her face and asks if she wants any help, Diana shakes her head and continues her destruction with her tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration.

"We love you, Ava." Martha pats Ava on the shoulder.

"How? You don’t know me." She doesn’t mean for her voice to crack.

"Anyone my daughters love as much as you is family. And we love our family in this house." Rich’s voice is soft but strong, leaving no room for interpretation. He’s saying exactly what he means.

"Shannon likes me?"

"Of course, I do. Why wouldn’t I?"

Ava shakes her head and shrugs, taking a single steadying breath. She nods and forces a smile, thanking them.

Diana has gotten the pajama set out of the box and discarded them to the floor in favor of tearing the box to pieces and giggling wildly. She offers the trash to Beatrice before jerking out of reach and squealing. She offers it again only to yank it away. Beatrice reaches for it only for Diana to step away from her with a playful grin. Diana’s buzzing, bouncing in place when Beatrice stands and reaches for her.

Diana races out of the room, stopping in the doorway to check that Beatrice is following before scurrying away. Ava’s heart swells when Diana darts back into the doorway and ducks behind Rich’s legs, peeking around him while Beatrice pretends to look for her under the rug and between the cushions on the couch.

When Diana creeps around Rich and throws herself at Beatrice, who is pretending not to notice her, Ava’s chest tightens and her head spins.

This is a moment Ava will never forget.

~*~

"Dada?" Diana rolls over, tracing her finger across Beatrice’s freckles. Beatrice hums and pulls her a little closer. "Story?"

"I already told you three, baby," Beatrice laughs, she doesn’t have to open her eyes to know Diana’s pouting so she stifles her yawn and presses deeper into Ava’s arms. "Okay, okay. Do you want a real or a fake story?"

"Fake." Diana presses her palm against Beatrice’s cheek and Beatrice tilts her head to kiss her palm before pulling Diana into her chest.

"Okay, let me think," Beatrice hums into Diana’s hair. "Okay, Shannon used to tell me this one after I’d had a bad dream, are you ready?

"Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in a beautiful house in a big forest. The trees stretched as far as the girl could walk in every direction, and then just a little further. The girl didn’t know anything but her life alone among the trees. She didn’t know any other people beside herself. She didn’t quite mind her life hidden in the leaves.

"Until a big fire started destroying her home, burning the branches she used to climb and the bushes she had played in. She tried to fight it, but she was just one little girl. So she had to leave. She had to run until she wasn’t in the trees anymore.

"The world was brighter without the safe canopy of leaves to block the sun, the world was bigger without the trees breaking up the horizon line, and the girl hated it. She wanted to go back to her home in the woods for a very long time.

"But she met a family with an older girl out in the bright, big world. And the two girls fought and they said they hated each other, but they took care of each other. The older girl taught the little girl how to play and have fun anywhere, and the little girl taught her how to be patient and kind in return.

"They loved each other more than either had ever thought possible, even when the little girl broke the older girl’s phone and when the older girl lost the little girl’s favorite toy. When they fought and when they played, when they hurt each other and when they helped each other. They kept each other safe. Always. Because that’s what sisters do."

~*~

There are three presents left wrapped beneath the tree, one with Diana’s name, one with Beatrice’s, and one with mom and dad scrawled across the top. Shannon passes her parents theirs first, bouncing her knee while Rich tears the paper away and drops it to the ground. He lifts the lid and pulls out two coffee mugs wrapped in newspaper.

World’s best grandmother

World’s best grandfather

Martha glances from the mugs to where Diana is burying herself in gift paper trash then to Shannon.

"I don’t know why you would get us these and not Beatrice, but alright." She’s fighting back a smile, biting her lips to keep them for turning up at the edges.

Shannon groans and flops dramatically onto her back.

"Mom. You have another child. Another child that can have children also. Bea isn't your only kid. It's me. Me and Mary. We're adopting a baby. Please, oh my god. Is everything about Bea to y'all?" If she’s upset, she’s hiding it well, playfully lobbing a ball of paper at Beatrice’s head and chuckling when Beatrice sticks her tongue out. Rich’s chortle rattles Ava’s chest and shakes the couch, it wraps heavy and warm around her like a blanket fresh out of the dryer.

Shannon tosses Beatrice’s gift into her lap and rolls her eyes. Beatrice unwraps it carefully, peeling the tape back slowly and ensuring not to tear the paper. Diana sighs heavily from under her mountain of paper balls, eyes closed and content.

Beatrice expertly untucks the lid from the box and lifts a keychain out, steadying it to read the inscription.

World’s best aunt

"I thought it was one baby? Now I'm the aunt of the entire world? Where are all those children going to fit in your house?" Shannon’s face scrunches up as she lunges at Beatrice, pinning her shoulders to the ground and tickling her sides. Beatrice shrieks and wiggles wildly trying to fight Shannon off through her giggles. Diana sits up at the noise, watching Shannon and Beatrice for a moment before roaring and leaping onto Shannon’s back.

Mary clicks her tongue and peels Diana off Shannon, hanging her upside down and tickling her. Diana screams for Ava, trying to push Mary’s hands away. Ava swoops in to rescue her, spinning in a slow circle and peppering her face with kisses. Diana squeals and pushes her away, wiggling out of her arms and darting to Beatrice.

"Shannon, leave your sister alone." Martha sounds bored but her face is alight, her eyes bright.

"She started it!"

"She didn’t ask, Shannon." Rich’s voice shakes as he tries to fight back a laugh.

"If I had known she would be your favorite, I never would’ve asked for a sister." Shannon kisses Beatrice’s forehead and ruffles her hair before pretending Diana successfully pushed her over. Diana squeaks and bounces, dancing in place while Shannon pretends to be hurt. "It was fine when I benefited from it, but now it’s just unfair."

"Are you talking about the mother may I routine?" Martha chuckles.

"Bea, go ask mom if we can go to the movies."

"But it's a school night."

"I know. That's why you have to ask."

"Okay."

"Wait. How are you going to ask her?"

"With my mouth."

"Beatrice, I swear to god I will rearrange your markers.

How will you ask her?"

"Can we go to the movies?"

"Exactly. Again."

"Mrs. Masters, can we go to the movies?"

"And if she says no?"

"Bambi eyes and please."

"Great. Now go ask."

"She got anything she ever asked for, of course I exploited that. How else would we get pizza or go to the movies on a school night?"

Ava wonders if Shannon resents Beatrice for it, if she’d ever questioned if her parents love Beatrice more. She would have.

She doesn’t get a chance to ask until later. Beatrice is putting Diana down for a nap, Mary is helping Rich in the garage, and Martha is clattering around in the kitchen cooking. Shannon has her feet thrown over the top of the couch and she’s hanging upside down reading the book Beatrice had gifted her, she’s humming quietly along with the Christmas music from the record player.

"Shannon?" She tilts the book away from her and raises her eyebrows. "Did it ever make you mad? How differently your parents treated you and Bea? Because it sounds like you were both held to different standards."

Shannon rolls over and thumps gracelessly onto the rug, she shoves a leftover strip of wrapping paper between the pages of her book before leaving it in the space she’d previously occupied. She joins Ava on the floor in front of the fireplace, the smoke and heat warming her cold hands. Ava’s looking at the pictures on the mantle. There are more of Beatrice, doing completely normal things like folding her laundry and walking a dog, sitting on the edge of a pool laughing and bent over a textbook studying. Shannon’s pictures are sparse, a simple picture of her as a toddler with pigtails and ribbons in her hair, frozen mid-jump holding a trophy over her head, chasing Beatrice with a stick held in front of her like a sword.

"It did a bit at first. I mean, I was twelve. I had been an only child for twelve years and in walks this sad little girl that stole my parents from me. She got tender love and affection while I got nagging and rules.

"But we were the same in the ways that really mattered. We both got grounded for two weeks when I convinced Bea to sneak out with me and we both got cars for our birthdays. They love us both the same, Bea just needed to be shown it more than I did. Because I knew they loved me. She didn't."

Ava watches Shannon’s side profile, searching for any trace of bitterness. But Shannon’s eyes are soft and her voice reminiscent.

"I always wanted a little sister. I used to beg my parents for a little sibling for my birthday or Christmas or anything. I wanted a little sister that I could play dress up and pirates with, one I could teach to braid her hair and climb a tree. Beatrice? Beatrice was not at all the kind of sister I had imagined all those nights on the roof. She’d always been smarter than me and, I mean, she didn’t try to bring attention to it and she never tried to make me feel stupid but you couldn’t talk to her without knowing she was smarter than you. And she was sad. She didn’t know how to ride a bike or build a blanket fort or skip rope. And she was kinda wonky, she’d never had ice cream before she moved here, did she tell you that? Ice cream.

“But she’s the best sister I could’ve asked for, you know? She helped me get through calculus and she let me climb into bed with her after I went through a breakup. She taught me to slow down, to take things one day at a time. Yeah, we bickered and we said we hated each other and we threatened to never speak to each other again, but she would always brush and braid my hair before bed and she would sleep beside me if she had a bad dream and she’d ask me so many questions about everything. She’d ask me why I love her and why I wanted her to pretend to believe in Santa and the Easter bunny. She’d always shoot the wrapper of her straw at my head any time we would go out and she always let me pick the movie during movie night.

"In the end, I don’t really care that she tore my favorite cardigan or scratched my car or called me mean names. Because what mattered was that we kept showing up for each other. We kept loving each other in the ways we knew how."

"And that was enough? You wouldn’t take it back if you had the chance?" Shannon flinches back like Ava had just slapped her.

"What?" Her jaw moves but she makes no sound, it reminds Ava of the old black and white movies she’d watched at the orphanage. Shannon shakes her head like she’s trying to rattle the words out. "Of course not. Sure she pisses me off sometimes and she steals all my shit, but she’s still my sister. Nothing she ever does could change that. I don’t care if she burns the Vatican to the ground or unleashes a swarm of locusts or becomes festooned with boils, she’ll always be my little sister. Through the good, the bad, and the ugly. For all of it. Always. I would never take that back."

This is what family is, Ava knows now. Diana is lucky to be a part of this family.

[charmwitch]

"Hello?" He didn't respond. He cradled the phone in his hands, pressed against his ear as he heard her voice. It was a strong, calm voice. She had gotten used to it by now, he must have thought, the strange calls that resulted in no response on the other line. He didn't want to worry her, of course, but Lawrence savored the moment he could at least catch a brief sound of his mother's voice.

He knew he would have to try to call during the evening if he wanted to catch his father. He could just see his mother handing him the phone in exasperation, but today felt different.

"Oh, it's you again," she responded. He flinched, usually she would try to repeat herself once or twice before hanging up, but she must have been fed up with this by now.

"Listen, I don't know who this is, but you should quit calling. We don't have anything to give you, so just-" "… What are you doing?" "--Ah!"

He dropped the phone, startled by Eileen's sudden appearance. Rebecca, on the other hand, finally heard a voice on the other end. A young woman questioning what sounded like a boy. She pressed her ear, but she could only hear the sound of the phone being shuffled around before a moment of silence.

"… Hello?" A voice. The young woman's. "Hello. Who is this?" Rebecca was firm, but calm, "Why do you keep calling me? I have half the mind to block this number, don't think I won't do it!"

Eileen looked over at Lawrence, who stayed close enough to listen, but spoke not. She could put two and two together, though.

"… Oh, I'm sorry about that," Eileen raised her pitch slightly, "My little brother's been calling you, hasn't he? I just caught him with the phone."

"… I see. Yes, he has." "I don't know how he found your number," she continued, her lie thickened as she stared straight at Lawrence, "…But I'll tell him not to bother you anymore. He means no harm… y'see, he hasn't seen his mom in a long time, so I think.. maybe… he wanted to hear someone who sounded like her." Rebecca pulled the phone away slightly, she heard a muffled 'sorry' from the other end.

"…Can you put him back on the line?" "Huh? Oh, yeah. One second."

Eileen shoved the phone back at Lawrence, nodding vigorously. Lawrence shook his head just as vigorously back at her, before being forced the phone.

"…Um.."

Her voice softened, gentler than Lawrence could recall in recent memory, "You're costing your parents a pretty crown calling this number… but I'm sorry you haven't seen your mother in a long time. I hope you can meet her again."

"…Mmn," was all Lawrence could reply. He held the phone tightly and away from Eileen, who had also turned her back on the conversation, it was his conversation after all.

[...]

"…What's going on in here?" Lawrence held his hand over his mouth, attempting to suppress a gentle sob. Eileen looked over at Huxley as she ran her hand on Lawrence's back, soothing him.

"You're not going to like your phone bill this month," she stated flatly. "… I'll help pay for it."

"Honestly, Lawrence," she muttered, "What did you expect would happen?"

[wandafiction]

Watch Me - Just Us Chapter 62

Warnings: Angst, Slight Homophobia

Word Count: 4265

Series List | Chapter 61 | Chapter 63

================================

(Wanda PoV)

"I love you baby."

"I love you too Princess."

With our small goodbyes I turn around following Karen into the house, as she closes the door behind us. I've only ever been in this house once or twice before and one of the times being the boy's most recent birthdays. I follow Karen as she leads me into their kitchen, and it reminds me of Y/n's penthouse with how big and open it is. From what I remember it's a 4 story building, with a large garden and one terrace on the 3rd floor. Vision and Karen have also put a lot of money towards renovating it and making it theirs, my eyes travel around the large kitchen and I wish I had a kitchen this size to cook in. I mean it takes up most of the floor. 

"Would you like a drink Wanda?" Karen's voice brings me back from my wishful thinking as she glides around her kitchen filling up the kettle. 

"Green tea?" 

"No problem." Karen places the kettle down on its stand and flicks it on as she turns to look at me. "Okay so how do you want to go about this? What do you want to talk to Vision about?"

"A lot probably, but the main thing is how he speaks to and about people. I try so hard to bring the boys up to be people who don't judge anyone, and I know we all judge people quietly sometimes it's just who we are as humans, but I don't want them spreading those thoughts out loud. I mean what Vision said at dinner was completely inappropriate and I don't want the boys to turn to his way of thinking." I huff out a slightly angered breath. "I just try so hard with the boys, being a single mother is not easy, and then when their dad doesn't want to co-parent properly and communicate with me it's hard."

"I understand maybe I should try harder to communicate with you too." Karen voices her thoughts as the kettle finishes boiling and she pours the water into a mug, passing it over to me once it's full.

"It's not your responsibility to be the responsible one. I know you love those boys like your own, and you took them under your wing and I couldn't be more grateful towards you. But Vision is their father and he just isn't present." I take a sip of my green tea, a small hum leaving my lips at the taste. "I know I have full custody of the boys and they go to his every other weekend or so, but he doesn't even try to talk with them during the week. He picks them up, spends a few days with them, drops them off. Then there is no communication until he is picking them up on his designated days."

"Okay, well I still feel like I need to try harder to communicate with you. I want to try this whole co-parent thing, I know we have been at this agreement with the boys coming to ours every other weekend but maybe if me and you communicate more. Instead of you and Vision, we can actually make this work. Make it something the boys look forward to, because I know that they don't always want to come here because of what Vision is like. It breaks my heart a little, because you're right I love those boys like my own."

"They love you, you know?"

"No I didn't, but thank you for telling me." Karen looks down at her drink, then back up to me with sad eyes. "I really am sorry for the way things ended between you and Vision, me being the reason. And then me also staying in the picture."

"You need to stop apologising for that Karen." She goes to say something but I motion for her to stay quiet so I can continue. "I don't blame you. Sure at first I was angry, who wouldn't be, but I don't blame you. You didn't do it on purpose, god you didn't even know about me and the children, and when you found out about his secret family you came straight to me. I know I said some things to you that day, but I truly didn't mean anything that I said. I was vexed and Vision wasn't there for the brunt of my wrath and you were so I took it out on you, which I wholeheartedly regret. Then even after I completely lost my temper at you, you still came to me and asked me if it was okay to meet the boys. You informed me that you and Vision were going to give it a go, then mentioned how he wanted to bring the boys to see you. You asked me permission, after Vision said you didn't need it because he was their dad and it shouldn't matter what I think. So please don't apologise for something you didn't do, anything that happened back then was all Vision and I never should have blamed you."

"I, uh." Karen's eyes gloss over with tears. "That means so much, you don't even know. Thank you." 

I slide one of my hands across the counter, grabbing onto Karen's free one as she wipes her tears with her other hand, and give it a small squeeze. She looks up at me with a teary smile, but I can see the relief and happiness dancing in her eyes. I give her a small smile and a nod letting her know that I mean every word. I see her eyes dart to my neck, and a smirk takes over her face and I flush as I realise I forgot to hide the marks Y/n left.

"Are you happy?" I blink my eyes a couple times in surprise at Karen's question, but smile softly at her as I take my hand back wrapping it around the warm mug of tea.

"Extremely." I bring my mug to my lips taking a few long sips of my drink as Karen nods at me.

"It's nice to see you happy after everything." Karen's demeanor changes slightly, a sad frown painted on her face as her eyebrows scrunch. "I know I don't know her well, but look after her please. After the small amount I've heard from what Steph did I think she needs it more than she realises."

"To be looked after?" Karen shakes her head lightly at my question.

"To be loved wholeheartedly and without restriction. She needs someone like you to show her how it feels to be truly loved. I know she had a wife, but any sign of that sort of love were destroyed when my d...Steph came along. Just cherish her and remind her how important and loved she is, because we both know what it's like to have someone love us but use words against us."

I don't say anything at first, just thinking back to all of mine and Y/n's interactions and how timid and hidden away she can be sometimes. 

How she doesn't always show her true self to others and keeps things she wants to say from leaving her lips. I'm starting to get a grasp on her to read her though. Like the way she will press her lips together, one of her legs bouncing, not realizing she does it, when I tell her how much I love her. Or even how beautiful she is. It's like she is trying to stop herself from crying, or maybe distract her brain so the words don't remind of how Steph used to use them against her.

There are other times where I see her chew the inside of her cheek, as her jaw clenches slightly after I ask what she wants for dinner and she doesn't tell me. Then when I throw out some options, the way her eyes flick left and right staring into space as she fiddles with either her rings or fingers. Afraid to speak up. Afraid to tell me her opinion. Afraid to even want to argue with me, now I hate to argue but it's also healthy in some respects and yet she holds it all back. 

Shit. She is still afraid. Maybe not of me, but of my reactions if she was to disagree with me or about something as simple as what to choose for dinner.

"Steph really did a number on her." I don't realise I've said it out loud till I hear Karen let out a hum.

"I know, just the way she acted at the dinner I could see it. My own daughter made someone flinch with the movement of her arm. I just hope that you're able to show her what love is truly like."

"I hope I can too." A thought jumps to the front of my mind and I chew on my lip, which causes Karen to tilt her head in question. "I need a favour."

"Okay?"

"The 8th of November I might need you to pick the boys up from school and maybe spend the night."

"Of course, but why."

"It's not my place to say, but I might just need to be with someone the whole day and I'm not sure I can do that and be with the boys."

"Of course I can Wanda. Y/n's going to need you that day." My eyes fly up to see Karen smiling sadly at me.

"I didn't say it was Y/n."

"You didn't have to."

"Mhmm. Uhm, the boys don't know about the whole wife situation. I won't tell them till Y/n is ready to tell them, and I'm not sure if she ever will be." 

"That's okay. I won't say anything."

"I know you wouldn't. But I just wanted to make sure you knew so you didn't say anything in passing or something." I'm quick to defend my actions.

"It's okay Wanda you don't need to explain." Our conversation is interrupted when Vision strolls into the kitchen, and fills the kettle up.

"Hello to you two lovely ladies." I think I just threw up a little. "What do you need to speak to me about?"

"A lot." I say with some venom in my tone.

"Woah that's no way to speak to your ex-husband." He raises his hands in mock surrender and I just roll my eyes.

"Actually Vis, she has every right. Why don't you go take a seat in the living room, me and Wanda will bring the drinks in and join you shortly." Karen's words are stern and commanding and I'm rather impressed how easily she takes a stand against him to defend me.

"Yes ma'am, sorry ma'am." He gives a pathetic fake salute and starts to walk out of the room.

"Drop the sarcasm Vis, this is serious." Karen's tone causes Vision to straighten his posture giving a curt nod before leaving the kitchen entirely.

"Thank you." Karen gives me a soft nod.

"Do you want another drink, since I'm boiling the kettle?" 

"Just another green tea please." She doesn't reply but takes my now empty mug and washes it out under the tap before putting a new tea bag in. 

A few minutes later Karen slides my drink across the counter to me, and grabs the other two mugs she has made, nodding her head towards the stairs directing me to follow hair. We quietly make our way up the small flight of stairs, going into the door on the right hand side which enters you into a spacious living room. Vision is sitting in his armchair, reading the newspaper and doesn't even look up when Karen places his drink down in front of him. I sit on the couch opposite Vision, but make sure I sit as far away from him as possible, not wanting to be any closer than I need to be. Karen clears her throat causing Vision to finally look up to meet our cold stares, folding his newspaper in half and placing it in the space between him and the arm of the chair.

I place my mug down on a coaster on the coffee table in front of me and smile at Karen as she decides to join me on the couch. Both of us sit up a bit straighter, and I cross my legs resting my hands on top of my knees. Vision doesn't seem to be bothered or affected by the tense atmosphere in the room, but when none of us speak he shuffles uncomfortably and I have to hold back a smile.

"So…" Vision starts nervously now realising how serious we are.

"Firstly, you need to apologise." I don't mince my words, so he isn't able to use them against me. 

"To who? You? I did nothing wrong." He snarls.

"No to Y/n and to the boys." I appreciate the fact that Karen is just sitting drinking her tea, waiting for her turn or if she needs to jump in.

"To Y/n? What did I do? She was the one to cause a scene! Not once but twice! And where is she now? Oh that's right you two forced the boys to go with her." He throws his hands around dramatically as he spits his words at me.

"I did not force the boys to do anything, but that's not why I am here to talk. You need to apologise to Y/n. What you said to her, what you said last night was completely inappropriate. You were rude about her friend…"

"I didn't know it was her friend!" He interrupts me and I bite my tongue to not call him all the names under the sun.

"That is not the point, Vision! It doesn't matter if the waiter is her friend or not, and it amazes me that's the point you picked up because it's not what I'm trying to get into that thick skull of yours. Vision you were outright homophobic, and worse you said those things in front of our boys. Our boys, who, for you information if you haven't the brains to figure it out already, their mother is dating another woman."

"You're dating her? Wow, I didn't expect that! I just thought this was just a fling, or what's it called now? A phase. Yes. This is just you going through a phase until the right man comes along." I throw my hands in the air and stand from the couch, walking behind it putting my hands on the back of it leaning against it.

"Vision you can't say that, you don't get to say that. It's degrading, derogatory, and its some damn homophobic. You don't get a say in my love life, so don't worry your little pea brain about who I am or am not sleeping with. But you will apologise to Y/n for what you said and caused last night. And you will apologise to our boys for it also."

I take a deep breath, bowing my head looking at the floor for a few seconds before looking back up at Vision.

"Look Vision, I am trying my best to raise those boys right. To raise them in an ever changing world where everyone is different in their own unique ways and how they need to be supportive instead of judging. I know, I know, that you were brought up in a household where your morals are completely different to how I was brought up. I know your family are the type of people to higher latina maids and not bother to learn their names. I know you were brought up to look down on other people. But do not think for one second that I will allow your family's teachings and ways to be shown to my boys. I would hate to hear that Tommy had beat a kid up for being gay, or Billy to have assaulted a girl because of advise you gave him about showing who's in charge. You need to try harder Vision, not for me, not for yourself but for our fucking boys. If you don't then I'm sure they won't want to come here anymore and I know that it will break Karen's heart."

"What do you want me to say?" I throw my hands in the air in anger at his words, as he has a look of innocence which just makes me scowl at him.

"I want you to say you are going to apologise to Y/n and the boys."

"What if I don't? I don't see what I did wrong, so I cannot apologise for something I think to be correct." 

"This is not me asking you Vision. This is me telling you to." I pinch my nose between my fingers, as I try to control my anger. "If you don't do this, then I'm not comfortable with allowing the boys to see you." 

"Well I guess I will apologise to the boys, but I'm not apologising to Y/n."

"Then I'm not comfortable with my boys coming here to see you." I keep my voice level and look him directly in the eyes so he knows I'm deadly serious. 

"Why not Wanda?" Vision stands from his chair as he holds his hands out in front of him.

"Because I'm not comfortable with the boys being around you when your blatantly homophobic, and so many other things. I don't want you spreading those thoughts and lies in front of or to my boys. Especially when I myself am dating another woman, and I want the boys to be comfortable with who they are and not afraid of their own father."

"So you would be okay if the boys brought home a boy one day instead of a girl?"

"Of course I would Vision. I love them with every fibre of my being and all I want for them is for them to be happy. If that means that they bring home a boy then so be it, if they bring home a girl fine. If they don't bring anyone home, then that's okay too. If one of them wants to dance, or act, or work in retail the rest of their lives then I will support them every single fucking day. If they don't feel comfortable with who they are, I am going to try my hardest to make sure they get to a point where they are. And you should be disappointed in yourself that you don't feel the same. Its disgusting that their own father is afraid of the ifs and buts and can only see the black from the white instead of the fucking plethora of colour that actually exists!" 

"Oh come on Wanda you can't stop me from seeing my boys!" 

Karen's hand rests on top of mine, rubbing circles over my knuckles as I breathe heavily trying to compose myself. She also hands me tissues as I have a few tears running down my face. I look down to Karen in quiet support and she simply nods at me to continue. I clench my jaw as I look up at Vision with a determination I didn't have before.

"Watch me."

With that I turn and leave the living room, no longer able to stand there and deal with Vision. I rush down the stairs and head right out the front door only stopping when I hear Karen calling my name. I turn around and gasp in surprise when she engulfs me in a hug. It takes me a few seconds but I finally reciprocate the hug, and Karen gives me a small supportive squeeze.

"You okay?" She whispers gently in my ear, and I can only hum in agreement. "You did really well, you should be so proud of yourself for standing up for what's right. For what it's worth you have my full support."

"Thank you, truly thank you." I remove myself from the embrace and am met by a kind smile.

"Go be with your boys. Be with that beautiful girlfriend of yours and enjoy every second of it."

"I will." I give her another quick hug before walking to the subway station, but not before I facetime my baby. 

To say I'm surprised when she pops up on my screen looking like she has nothing on is an understatement, and when she confirms my suspicion well now I wish I was somewhere more private. We say our goodbyes and when I see her address I raise an eyebrow, as it's the wealthy part of the upper West side. Okay then. I do sometimes forget how much money Y/n actually has, but then things like this remind me she is a multimillionaire. Probably nearly a billionaire.

 I let my mind wander as I sit on the subway carriage, mainly thinking about Y/n's wealth and our future together. I know how much she earns a year, but what is her net worth? Does she own anything else that I don't know about? 

Those sort of things, then one question that makes me scrunch my brows together jumps to the front of my mind. What happens when we move in together? I mean will she want to move in with me? Will she offer the penthouse? Maybe the house? But I'm not too sure about that one as it was hers and Sarah's. Or will we find somewhere new? Would she pay for it all or allow me to put money towards it?

Okay well we need to have a conversation.

My thoughts are interrupted by the announcement of my station, so I make my way out of the subway car and up the many steps to the Street level. I start heading in the direction of the address Y/n sent me, when I get a message from her.

Dorogoy: The door is open so just twist the doorknob to the right and come on in. We are on the first floor in the living room.

Me: Okay I will be there soon. X

Dorogoy: See you soon x

I smile as I put my phone back in my bag and take in the surroundings as the rows of houses get more expensive looking as I get closer to Y/n's. I finally come to a stop and my jaw drops at the outside of Y/n's house. It looks expensive and is - from what I can see- 7 stories. Well damn. I go to open the gate, when a clearing of a throat behind me causes me to turn around.

"Can I help you?" The stranger raises her eyebrow at me.

"Sorry, I'm just here to visit my girlfriend. Y/n, I'm assuming this is the right address." I relax when the lady smiles at me.

"Ah you must be those lovely boys' mothers." Now my brows raise.

"You met my boys?"

"Only briefly darling. I was leaving mine as Y/n was entering hers. I'm her neighbour. The name's Ajak." She holds out her hand to me so I place mine in hers and give it a small shake.

"Wanda."

"Well it was very nice meeting you Wanda, I hope to be seeing you around." She starts to walk up her own house steps looking back at me as she opens her door. "Treat her well."

Before I can say anything she enters the house and closes the door behind her quickly. I shake my head, walking up the small amount of steps and twist the door knob just like Y/n told me to and the door opens easily. I walk into the entrance hall, taking my shoes and coats off, placing them next to the boys' items. My jaw drops as I take a peek into the kitchen and once again wish my kitchen was this big. I hear some noise from upstairs so peel my eyes away from her kitchen and head quietly upstairs. I follow the sound of what I can only assume is the TV and when I stand in the doorway I melt at the sight before me.

Y/n is sitting in the middle of one of the couches, facing the TV, with Tommy snuggled up against her left side and Billy cuddled up to her right hand side. A blanket thrown haphazardly over them all. A tender smile grows wide when all three of them laugh at something that happened on the screen, not that I'm looking. I'm just looking at the three people in front of me. When Y/n turns and sees me in the doorway my smile grows even more. She lifts the blanket and taps her lap causing the boys to turn their heads quickly giving me a small hello before turning back to watch it.

I quietly shuffle over to Y/n, trying not to spend too long getting in the way of the TV and climb gently into her lap. I sit with my left side against her chest, my legs laying over hers and Tommy's. She chucks the blanket back over us and I snuggle my head against her chest as her hand moves to scratch at my scalp. I move my arm to wrap around her back as my other hand rests in my lap, and pull myself closer to her. She leans down to peck the top of my head and a lazy smile appears on my face. 

This is my family.

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