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fungateshortcakes · 3 days ago

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Tummy ache

Do I have kids? No. Do I want kids? Fuck no. Did I still write this because dad logan makes me feel a certain type of way? HELL YES

Pairing: Worst!Logan x single mom!Reader

Summary: It's late and your little daughter Laura won't stop crying and screaming, no matter what you do. You take her to your best friend Wade, who lives in the same apartment buildung. Will he and Logan be able to help you?

Wordcount: 3.4k

Warning/tags: english is not my first language, fluff, slight missunderstandings, Wade bc he needs a warning, implied sexual themes, friends to lovers, just cuteness, Laura doesn't exists as an adult like in the movie, rushed ending?, leave me alone I finished this at midnight

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Logan was snoring on the couch in Wades apartment when loud, frantic knocks sounded on the door. He grumbled in annoyance as he turned, pulling a pillow over his head.

He heard Wade skip to the door in a pair of white underpants with hearts on them and a loose, grey wolverine fangirl shirt. "Must be the horse dildo I ordered" he spoke happily as if it was the most normal thing to say. Once Wade opened the door, the piercing shrieks of a baby crying echoed through the apartment.

You held your one year and a half old daughter in your arms, her face red as she cried into your shoulder. Wade noted that your hair was a mess and you seemed awfully tired. Well- it was late and on any other day, you and your daughter would already be sleeping. But there was clearly something that bothered her. She had been crying and screeching and in discomfort for an hour without you finding what caused it or how to fix it.

You tried feeding her, but she wouldn't open her mouth for the spoon. You tried reading to her, but she would always push away the books. You changed her diapers in case her sensitive skin was irritated by the dampness, but she hadn't peed. You didn't know why she was so distressed and nothing seemed to distract her from whatever it was that made her cry.

You were desperate. And while your best friend Wade wasn't really...fond of kids, which you couldn't blame him for, you still went to him for help. You never truly wanted kids yourself. But when the condom broke and your ex left you upon finding out you were pregnant, you were stuck with your baby. And now you wouldn't trade her for the world. Except in times where she was screaming with no appearant reason. "Hey Wade, I'm so sorry to bother you guys this late at night, but Laura, she won't stop crying. I've tried everything and I don't know what to do" you croaked, rocking the small child in your arms, shushing her to no avail.

Wade brought you inside so you wouldn't stay outside in the hallway any longer. No need for some neighbors to peek their head out of their doors to see what was going on.

In situations like these, Wade could be oddly serious and actually tried to help. He knew you were insecure because of your baby. You didn't want to be a nuisance or burden to anyone because you knew that your daughter could be a lot. Kids were high maintanance and you didn't want to make people feel like they were obligated to make room and drop everything once you arrived with your child. You couldn't expect from anyone that they were okay with you bringing your kid over. But Wade wanted you to know that even though he didn't like kids, you were his best friend and Laura had been nothing but a sweetheart so far. You were always welcome in his apartment.

Wade kicked Logan from the couch "Get your fat ass off the couch, the Lady needs a place to sit" he loudly said over Lauras crying. Logan groaned. You sat on the sofa and tried to take up as little space as possible. "Im sorry Logan, didn't want to disturb your sleep." you apologized meekly. "I can..I can move to the chair here" you muttered, pointing to an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair that replaced an armchair, which had recently been thrown out of the apartment due to mysterious stains and various rips and cuts in the fabric.

You had met Logan a few times since he lived with Wade and Althea. And you would be a liar if you said he didn't catch your eye. He was tall, broad and very handsome, pretty much right up you alley. But there was no way he was looking for a chaotic single mother that barely had her life together and struggled to raise an unplanned child because her ex left her. Yeah, no. You were miserable. Logan didn't need any of that.

Adding to that, he always seemed to avoid you when Laura was near. You just thought he didn't like kids, which was totally fair. Truthfully, Logan liked kids and had always wanted some of his own, but it just...never happened. With him being the worst wolverine and all.

Then why did he avoid you and your baby?

Simply said, he didn't want to scare her. Most kids looked at him like he was some sort of big, bad monster. Some ran away, some started crying, others hid from him behind their parents when he walked by. He wasn't good with children either because they never let him close enough before getting scared. He was afraid that Laura would react the same way like all children did. He didn't want you to back away once you realised that Laura didn't approve of him.

He couldn't bear only seeing you from afar.

As you were about to stand up from the couch, Logan stopped you. "No, its fine. Stay on the couch. I can move" he replied and you felt another pang as he moved away from you again.

Wade leaned over the couch, looking down at Laura who was still wailing uncontrollably. You sighed deeply, a throbbing ache behind your eyes. "Why won't you stop crying? What's wrong, sweetheart?" you nearly sobbed as well. You were so tired of this, so tired of this sound. You felt so helpless and stupid. "Maybe she wants some food? We have some left-over pizza, I can grind that stuff up into a slurry for her or something" Wade suggested.

You softly shook your head. "She doesn't want to eat, I tried. I also tried to read her a bedtime story, but she just push me away. I also changed her diapers but nothing helped" you rasped, ready to just fall asleep on the spot.

Wade reached down to get your crying daughter out of your arms. "How about you get some sleep while Wolvie and I take care of Laura? Maybe we'll find out what's rubbing her the wrong way." Wade said, cooing to your crying baby. You fell onto the couch, closing your eyes. "I can't just sleep when she is crying" you mumbled, clearly deadly tired.

"We'll take care of her. You go sleep" Logan drawled and his deep voice soothed you even more, made you even more sleepy. It was so easy to let your body betray your mind and you hated it. "Okay..." you whispered, too tired to argue. And before you could snuggle into the couch cushions, you felt two strong arms slip under your body and lifting you up as if you weighted nothing. You were so tired, you couldn't even gasp or protest as Logan brought you into Wades room, your senses enveloped with his scent.

He carefully lowered you down onto the matress, covering you up with a blanket. "Sleep tight, love. We'll take great care of your little one, so you don't have to worry about a thing" he drawled softly and only after closing the door behind him did he hope that you hadn't catched his slip-up, that he had called you love.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

In had been another two hours of constant crying and screaming. The kid must be exhausted from all the crying, but she still didn't stop. If you asked Logan, it became even worse.

"God, can you shut up for a minute? I am trying everything here!" Wade stressed, bouncing Laura in his arms and patting her back. "Don't tell your mom I said that" he whispered right after. Laura wailed and pushed herself away from Wade with her tiny hands, which were surprisingly really strong. She squirmed in his grasp, desperate to be set down.

"This is how you thank me? I've worked my ass off the past hour to get everything to your liking and now you push me away?" he grumbled, but set her down with a loud 'ouch!' after she started to scratch him.

Her tiny feet waddled against the livingroom floor as fat tears rolled down her chubby cheeks. She had a tummy ache, but she couldn't communicate that with anyone. There were a few words she knew and could say- cat, dog, mama. But she didn't have the words to say that something was hurting.

Logan sat on the couch and watched her as she stood a few feet away from him with her red face, screaming together the whole neighborhood. He sighed deeply, the sound making his ears ring. Then, out of nowhere, she waddled over to him.

"No, no, bub. Not a good idea. Get back to uncle Wade" he told her, scooting up the couch a bit more. He could have just stood up and walk away- why didn’t he? Laura stood between his legs now, demanding uppies from him as she cried. Logan shook his head, ready to call Wade from the kitchen, when Laura began screetching, stretching herself to Logan, standing on her small tip toes.

With a huff, he picked her up, his big and warm hands eveloping her small body. He leaned back against the couch with her on his lap. To his surpise, she quieted down. "You okay now, bub?" he asked her, jumping as she snuggled herself against his chest. Due to his mutation, Logan was always very warm. His whole body was like a heater and that warmth soothed Lauras tummy ache, unbeknownst to him.

The apartment was quiet now, only a few hiccups and sighs coming from Laura as she let her stomach ache be washed away by Logans cozy warm body. He didn't know what to do! One minute he was tortured by her screams and now she was napping on him. On him! Out of all people, she chose to rest on him.

"Is she dead!?" It was now Wades turn to yell as he came stumbling into the kitchen because it suddenly went all quiet. Logan didn't answer him nor did he move a muscle, too scared to wake your baby up.

"What the fuck" Wade blurted out upon seeing something he had never thought he would ever witness in his entire life. Logan shushed him, making Wade frown. He came closer, his face next to Lauras sleeping one "You little cheating slut" he sharply whispered, earning himself a shove from Logan. "Seriously, did you knock her out? Why is she sleeping all of a sudden?" Wade asked with crossed arms.

"I don't know. She wanted me to pick her up, so I did. Then she stopped crying and fell asleep" Logan explained, a warm feeling spreading in his chest as he watched the slow rise and fall of Lauras breath, her tiny hand tightly holding onto his shirt.

"Wow" Wade said. "You're the baby whisperer" Logan shot him a glare.

Wade went on a rant about how everything would have been easier if Logan took Laura from the start before finally falling asleep draped over the chair, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts. For a moment, Logan thought about bringing Laura to you so she could sleep with her mom. But as he tried to peel her off of him, she started fuzzing and whimpering until she was laying back on his chest.

He sighed deeply. Well, gotta make the best of the situation, huh? With a grunt, he made himself comfortable on the couch and fell asleep with a broad hand securily holding Laura on top of him.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

You woke up well rested. Weird. You haven't slept this good since Laura had been born.

Laura!

You jumped awake, stumbling over some stuff in Wades room before you reached the door. It was quiet as you opened it and you were met with the sight of Logan, the fucking Wolverine, sound asleep with your daughter cuddled up on him as if he was some kind of big teddy.

Your heart soared in your chest, your stomach did flips and summer saults. And your pussy throbbed. Couldn't help it, seeing him with your baby did something to your ovaries. It was...so cute. You wanted nothing more than to snuggle up with them, trace patterns onto his pecks while Laura would squeak out an adorable smile-

"Mama" Laura squealed suddenly, flashing you a smile with her few teeth. "Hey there, baby" you cooed to her, kneeling down next to the couch to be eye-level with her. She smiled brightly, whatever it was that had bothered her yesterday completely forgotten. "You seem happy using uncle Logan as a pillow" you said to her, kissing her chubby cheek.

Logan started waking up, only registering Laura at first. "You slept well, bub?" he muttered with a deep sleep laced voice, gently rubbing Lauras small head with his large hand that easily fitted around the back of her head.

"Yes, I did. Thank you for asking" you giggled softly, amused by the way Logan nearly jumped out of his skin upon noticing that you were there too, witnessing how he went soft for your daughter. An embarrassed blush krept onto his face and he cleared his throat, sitting up and avoiding your gaze. "Sorry, she...she only stopped crying when she sat on my lap"

You smiled softly at him. "Seems like she really likes you, then." and I like you too, you wanted to add, but didn't. "She is usually not that touchy with people she barely met" you said and hearing your reassurance- the fact that Laura seemed to like him- it warmed his heart. But he would never admit that.

"Well, I guess I'm flattered" Logan replied with the hint of a smile, his gaze soft as you lost yourself in his eyes, Lauras babbling fading into the background. For a moment, you let yourself think about what could have been. This baby, it could have been Logans and yours. She could have been born because two people truly loved each other. Did Logan love you? You doubted it. But when he looked at you like that, you allowed yourself to be fooled.

"I don't know how you manage to fuck each other just with your eyes, but get a room. There are children present" Wade suddenly said outraged, covering Mary Puppins eyes.

You picked up Laura from Logans lap, holding her against your hip to bring distance between you, Logan and Wades teasing. Logan cleared his throat, clearly disappointed.

"I am so, so thankful that you guys helped me. I don't know what you did or what was wrong with her, but she seems all better now. Is there anything I can do to show my gratitude? you asked, gently bouncing Laura in your arms.

Logan shook his head "No need, bub" he grumbled in his deep voice. He would have done this a thousand times if it meant he could hold your baby in his arms as if it was his. "Make that creamy ass mac and cheese and my life is yours. That stuff tastes and sounds better than any pussy" Wade chimes in, making you laugh. You promised to invite both of them over for dinner sometimes this week and they happily agreed. Laura squeaked out a cute "bye!" before you went back to your own apartment again.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Ever since that day, visits to either Wades or your apartment became more frequent and Laura couldn't be happier seeing Logan pretty much every day. She would stick to his leg from the minute she saw him and to the last second before he left. It was adorable and made you fall even deeper in love with someone you could never have.

Wade made it his mission to steal Laura away from you and Logan. Partly because he wanted you to spend more time alone, and to teach her some words since he was her 'uncle' after all.

Laura sat on his lap, staring down at Wades phone. He looked over her head. He had a picture open that showed you, Laura, Logan and Wade. "And who is that?" he pointed to you, earning a delighted squeal from Laura as she pointed to your smiling face on the picture as well "Mama!" she babbled. Wade cheered her on, applauding her. "That's right, and that is Dada. Dada" he pointed to Logan. Laura recognized him, smiling brightly and giggling, but she didn't say anything. "Can you say that? Dada?" Wade asked in the best baby voice he could muster. But still, Laura wouldn't say anything. "Come on, say Dada. Da-da" Wade tried one last time, but Laura unwrapped himself from his arms to go and play with some toys scrattered on the floor. He huffed in frustration. It was easier to teach kids swear words than this.

Two days later, the day for the dinner came and someone rang your doorbell. You left Laura to play on her playmat and went over to the door, opening it a slit before realising that it was Logan. You fixed your hair with flushed cheeks, you hadn't expected him to come this early, you had just started the dinner preperations. "Oh, hey Logan. What are you doing here? Dinner was planned in two hours" you said, gingerly letting him into your apartment which you hadn't had the time to tidy up yet. Logan wasn't the guy to judge, but you still felt insecure.

"I thought I'd help you with the cooking and all. Look after Laura so you can work in peace" he said, knowing that he was just here to spend more time with you and Laura alone to give him the feeling of having his own little domestic family that he will never actually experience.

You smiled at him "That's very nice of you, but Laura is actually being very umcomplicated today" speaking of which, you showed him that your kid was silently playing with her toys. Upon noticing you and Logan, she squealed and stood up slowly, trying to keep her balance, before she waddled up to him excitedly. "There's my little pumpkin" he drawled, bending down to pick her up swiftly.

"Dada!" she giggled, making you an Logan stop in your tracks. "Did you hear that?" he asked you, looking over at you with a shocked expression. You frowned. You had never taught her to say that. "Sweetheart, who is that?" You asked the little girl, tapping Logans arm, just to be sure you hadn't heard her incorrectly. "Dada" she squeaks again, playing with his coarse beard.

You both looked at each other in disbelieve and for a second, you feared Logan woulf shove Laura into your arms and leave. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know where she got that from" you tried to apologize, but the rejection from Logan never came.

He held her lovingly to his chest, giving her forhead a kiss. It made your heart pound faster. "No, it's okay" he reassured you, his large hand enveloping the back of Lauras head. "I...I could be her dad. If you want me to be" his question struck you like lightning, it was like a damn marriage proposal.

A marriage proposal you would never say no to. He looked at you with hopeful eyes, waiting for your answer and worrying he had overstepped.

"Yes. Be the father she never had. And please be the love I always wanted" you whispered, leaning up to kiss him. The kiss was soft, your lips brushing against the other and it was nothing you had ever felt before. You had kissed your ex- but never did it feel like this. So right. His free hand snaked around your waist, deepening the kiss until Laura decided to pull at your shiny necklace.

You smiled at her, taking her into your arms. "Do you want to play with daddy while I make mac and cheese?" you asked your daughter and minutes later, Logan had brought her playmat and some toys into the kitchen to sit beside her on the ground to watch and entertain her. It was like nothing had changed. Little did you know, Logan had accepted the little girl as his daughter way before today, even if you guys had never confessed.

And as you stole glances down to Logan, who was already looking at you with these half lidded bedroom eyes, you knew that after dinner, Logan and you would be trying for Lauras sibling.

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I really hoped you liked this, I feel like I've rusted a bit. Still got a lot of smut ideas and fics open that I need to finish. Wish me luck☹ if you saw any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Leave me alone im tired

Btw, thanks to @buck-star for motivation me to finally finish this <33

#logan howlett x reader #x men #hugh jackman #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #x reader #logan howlett #logan wolverine #marvel #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #worst wolverine #worst wolverine x reader #mcu #logan howlett fluff #fluff #oneshot

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chrysthemiss · 2 days ago

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His name is Thor, short for Thorium, a malleable metal. Telekinesis is simply a matter of being able to control your thoughts, focus them and think of something else, to form what you're focused on of moving. Malleable to change, and being able to change what you're using your Telekinesis on. (I hope this is okay @aerequets )

While he is a bit weak with his telekinesis, he soon grows far too powerful, and can lift Loid, but doesn't. He soon catches on that if anything were to happen, Yor, his loving owner, would most likely kick him to the curb.

Anya filled his head with that, because Bond had growled about it at one point, and Thor now lived by the rule of keeping his powers hidden unless needed. He hated the rule, of course, rules were dumb. But he respected his family, except Loid.

"I swear, that cat always looks like he wants me dead." Loid mutters, lowering his newspaper.

"Awh, he's just a baby." Yor coos, rubbing her fingers together. "Come here my little Prince."

Thor purrs, hopping up the counter and over to Yor, nuzzling against her hand when it is presented. Bond sits with a thump, head lowering, eyes flicking upwards at Yor. 'Bond though he was Prince.' He whimpers softly, gently pawing at the floor.

"I'm detecting jealousy from you, Bond." Loid flicks his newspaper back up. "How unlike you."

Yor steps away from the counter, kneeling down and patting Bond's head, "You are my king, Bond. You have nothing to worry about." She kisses his head. "Would a walk make you feel better?"

He jumps up, licking her face, barking. "Anya wants to go too!" Anya scurries out of her room, scarf and gloves already on.

"Loid, would you like to join us?" Yor giggles, brushing back Bond's fur as he nuzzles her cheek.

Loid hums, Anya's eager face quickly turning to a deadpan. 'I have to keep up appearances, the neighbors haven't seen us out as a family in weeks..I'll have to bring this up to Handler, and clear a schedule solely for family.' Loid smiles. "I'd love to join you, we could make this a family brunch too."

Yor beams at him, Anya gazing at Loid, 'Papa's such a workaholic.'

Thor mews, gazing at the family with expectant eyes. "Yor, I don't think taking Thor with us is ideal. We don't have a harness for him, nor would he stay with us in this busy city." Loid says, nearing the family, offering his hand to Yor.

She takes his hand, being pulled up, nodding, "Yes, but he might cause a ruckus in our absence. I could hold him til we shop for a harness?"

Loid hums, "I..Suppose so.."

Bond growls softly, his growl turning into a soft whine, the dog dragging himself to the coat rack. The family readies, and then leaves the house, Thor comfortable atop Yor's shoulders.

Loid and Yor go inside the pet shop to quickly measure Thor for a harness, and get him a matching gold leash. Loid is in charge of him, because Bond wanted Yor's attention, and wouldn't follow if Loid was holding his leash. Thor mews, hopping to the curb, swatting at a lizard that quickly scuttles off, hissing. "Mama, do cats eat lizards?" Anya asks, looking to Yor.

"I think so." Yor replies, gently squeezing Anya's hand. "But Thor is domestic, so he really shouldn't be eating them."

Thor perks at her words, ceasing his hisses, walking alongside Bond who cowers. 'Cat scary. Cat wants to hurt Bond.'

Anya gasps softly, releasing Yor's hand and skipping forward. "Mama, cats don't like dogs!"

"That's a common stereotype, Anya." Loid utters. "It's not entirely true. Cats are naturally cruel though, they're the ones who initiate fights the most."

Thor glares back, glancing to Loid's shoes, turning proudly as the knots is undone. Loid steps forward, soon tripping over his own shoelaces, muttering softly as he kneels down to tie his shoes and continue walking.

Bond stills, Anya looking to him, perking. 'Papa's going to fall into mud? But it hasn't rained!' Anya hardens her gaze. "That's all!?"

Sneezing, Bond borfs, tail wagging as Anya caresses his face. She sighs, "It's okay Bond, it's not hurting anyone!" Anya hugs his muzzle. "Mama! Can we go play at the park?"

Yor smiles and nods, "We're nearby, we can go."

After a peaceful walk, they arrive to the park, Bond being unleashed and allowed to hop around with Anya. Thor stares, eyes widening for a second, Bond toppling over nothing. He doesn't allow it to affect him and he jumps right back up, Anya squealing as he chases after her.

"Shall we walk around too, Yor?" Loid smiles.

"Yes, let's!" Yor smiles back. "I heard that Bondman is getting a new show, a spin-off, I believe."

Loid perks, "Oh yes, it'll follow the women he's lead on over his journeys." Loid nods. "It'll start off in chronological order."

Thor narrows his eyes, frowning, "Mrrrp?"

"You seem to know plenty, Loid. Are you sure you're not watching it because you do enjoy it?" Yor grins, gently bumping him.

"No- What an absurd accusation." Loid fumbles, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. "I watch it so Anya knows I value what she does."

"Then I guess, the Manga collection I bought of Bondman can go to her." Yor shrugs.

"You– Bought the collection?" Loid softens. "For me?"

Yor flushes red, "You're my husband. I'm supposed to indulge in your hobbies too.."

Thor gapes, Yor is supposed to be his! He glares at Loid's shoes, the laces raising and tying to the other shoe's laces. At Loid's next step, he falls forward, sprinklers going off nearby. Yor gasps in suprise, raising both hands to cover her mouth. "Loid!!"

He pushes himself up slightly, Thor glaring at his laces, tying them back up and stepping closer to Yor. "I have two left feet today.." Loid sits up, wiping his face. "Forgive me, Yor–"

"No no!" She waves her hands, reaching into her pockets and squatting down. "Loid, are you alright? Here, let me—" She wipes his cheek, gentle with the cloth against his skin.

He thinks about protesting, that he is able to do it himself, but can't find himself saying so. He sighs, leaning towards the cloth, somehow content with how things turned out. "Thank you, Yor.."

Thor rolls his eyes, turning and growling a meow. He should've stuck to bullying Bond.

the forgers get a cat (it has telekinesis)

it probably like, snuck into radioactive waste or something that project apple left behind and came out with telekinesis

not enough to do serious damage but just enough for tomfoolery and shenanigans

yor found the kitty. it immediately loved her. yor is its favorite

bond is terrified of this cat 1/8th his size

bond is sad when anya shows this cat love, but also can't do anything because aforementioned fear

it likes to mess with loid because why not? make his life harder. go kitty

doesnt have a name yet 🤔🤔

#spy x family #loid forger #sxf #yor forger #anya forger #sxf loid #sxf anya #sxf yor #bond forger #sxf bond #twiyor #not my art #sxfwriting #reblogwithstory

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muffinpink02 · 1 day ago

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Sandcastles

Summary - Mapi and Ingrid have Rudy for the weekend. Rudy learns not everyone is so nice.

WC - 5,954

Warnings - slightly suggestive, homophobic, swearing

“Are you excited, princess?” You smiled as you tied Rudy’s shoelace.

“Sí! When are they coming?” The four year old asked as she stared impatiently at the front door.

“Tieta Ingrid just texted me to tell me they’ve already left. So, they will be here soon.” You reassured her.

Rudy huffed out a deep sigh, a sigh so deep you'd think she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. But to be fair to her, patience wasn't a trait she had mastered as a four year old just yet. Though she wasn’t the worst, she had more patience than her mother.

“Why don’t you go grab your football, you can take it with you.”

“Yeah! I can play football at the park. Tieta Mapi will like that!”

You watched as the excited curly headed blonde jumped off the wooden bench in your hallway, running past her twin in an excited hurry and into her bedroom.

“Where are they? They said they would be here for 11.” Alexia asked as she rounded the corner, stopping to put Rudy’s water bottle in her sleep over bag.

You looked at your watch, it was only 10.37.

The Putellas and patience was like water and oil. It just didn’t mix.

“Ale, it's not even 10.40 yet. They live a 2 minute walk away and Ingrid has already texted to tell me they've left. Calm your tits.” You chuckled to yourself.

But your chuckle quickly turned into a loud squeal that escaped your mouth as you suddenly felt yourself being lifted into the air, Alexia easily picking you up from behind. All while burying her head into your neck attacking your skin with heated kisses.

“Alexia!” You let out a loud cackle.

“My tits are calm, cariño.” She muttered into your skin.

“Hmm, seems like it.” You laughed as she finally put you down, but never letting you go. Her strong arms wrapped around your body, holding you from behind.

“I’m just a little excited.” She purred into your neck as she eyed you in the hallway mirror. “A weekend of just you and me.”

You melted into her familiar touch, allowing her to bring you closer. You couldn't deny that you were also excited. It had been a while since the two of you had a weekend just to yourselves and my god, you needed it.

Don’t get me wrong you loved being a mum, and so did Alexia. The day you brought that baby home your world had turned upside down in the best way possible. But as mothers you hardly got time to be with each other. If your time wasn't taken up by Rudy it was taken up by training, if it wasn't training it was school, if it wasn't school it was matches, if it wasn't matches it was house hold errands and so on.

Don’t even get me started on your intimate times, they were becoming few and far between. You were sure cobwebs had started to build.

So, yeah you both needed a little break with each other, and Ingrid and Mapi were always the first in line when it came to having Rudy.

“And what is it that you’re most excited for, Mrs Putellas?” You raised your eyebrow in question, but it was rhetorical. Just going by the way her hazel eyes stared at you, you knew what she was excited for and so were you. “Is it the time we’re going to get together? Catch up on house chores?” You teased her.

“Hmm.” She hummed, the deep rumble from her throat caused your eyes to flutter. “No, I’m excited to try that new toy-”

But before Alexia could finish that sentence and before your mind started picturing the visuals (the visuals you so desperately wanted to see) the sound of small feet came running back down the hallway.

Alexia was right, Ingrid and Mapi needed to get a move on.

“I have my ball.” Rudy beamed as she kicked her Barcelona ball towards you both.

Alexia kissed your neck, watching you in the mirror. “Hmm, later then?” She said in a hush tone that only you could hear.

“Next 5 minutes, more like.” You corrected her.

“Deal.” She gave you one last kiss on your neck before letting you go, checking Rudy's sleepover bag once more.

Alexia turned her attention to Rudy who was busy playing with her football. She could already see her football classes coming in handy, not to be biased but she was really skilled for her age, but you guess having two Ballondior winners for mothers came in handy.

The older blonde smiled as she watched her daughter attempting keepie uppies. Something she had tried to teach her.

“You got everything you need, princesà?”

“Sí.”

“Good. Now, let's go over the rules.” Alexia’s captain's voice suddenly made an appearance. “What do we not forget to say?”

“Please and thank you.”

“Good. And what do we not do?”

“Erm,..... erm,..... erm.” Rudy got distracted as she kicked at her ball.

“Rudy.” Alexia easily captured the ball with her own foot, flicking it effortlessly into her own hand.

You found yourself staring at your wife. God, she was hot when she was being the ‘strict’ parent. Okay, yeah, you really needed this weekend.

“What do we not do?” She repeated herself, her tone more serious.

“Run off and talk back.”

“Good. Remember to listen to Tieta Ingrid make sure you’re always by her side when you're outside, si?”

“ Sí.” The smaller blonde nodded.

“And Tieta Mapi, Mama.” You reminded Alexia.

Alexia nodded slowly. “Sí, and Tieta Mapi.” She rolled her eyes. “Just make sure Ingrid always knows where you are.”

“Alexia, that was one time. We found her in the end and Mapi felt so bad, she didn’t stop saying sorry for about three months.”

The blonde nearly broke her neck as she turned to you, her hazel eyes wide in horror. “Mapi only had to watch her for 2 minutes! And she couldn't even do that!”

You rolled your own eyes but you kind of agreed with Alexia. You loved Mapi but the girl was maybe sometimes a little… forgetful.

Your buzzer for your building door rang out, setting off a very excited four year old.

“They're here! They're here!” The girl jumped up and down, her curls bouncing with her.

Alexia grabbed Rudy’s jean jacket and helped her put it on.

You opened your apartment door to see Ingrid and Mapi walking down the hallway, smiles stretching on both of their faces.

“Chicken!” The Norwegian called out.

“Chica!” Mapi shouted loudly as she began to run towards the squealing girl.

Rudy was engulfed in a tight loving hug as she also ran towards her aunties.

“Aye! You’ve got so big! I thought I told you to stop growing?” Mapi said as she put Rudy down.

“I can’t stop growing!” The blonde giggled loudly, her gappy teeth all on show as Mapi pocked at her stomach.

“Hello chicken.” Ingrid knelt down to Rudy’s level as she was embraced by the tightest hug a 4 year old could muster.

“Hello girls.” You smiled with your arms open.

All four of you gave your hugs and said your hellos.

“Whats your plans for the weekend then?” Mapi asked, already grinning at whatever PG version of your plans you were going to give.

“House work-”

“Cinema-”

Even Ingrid had to laugh at your unrehearsed replies.

“Ahh, sí, sí, housework.” Mapi sarcastically replied, sending an overly exaggerated wink at the pair of you. “House work sounds fun. I just hope it destresses you, Ale. You’ve been extra tense at training.” Mapi laughed as she elbowed her girlfriend.

You watched as your wife's cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink, her mouth hung open to rebuttal but she was clearly getting flustered.

“Cinema and house work sounds fun” Ingrid chimed in, saving the pair of you from the embarrassment while also giving Mapi the look. The defender promptly stopped laughing after that.

“Right, give us a cuddle, Rude’s. Be good for your aunties and have the best time.” You opened your arms open for your daughter who happily squeezed you tightly.

“Bye, bebita.” Alexia also received the tight cuddle from her twin. “Have fun.”

You watched the three walk down the hallway, but before shutting the door Mapi called out. “Have fun with the house work.” She cackled just before being dragged by the back of her neck and out the door.

—--------------------

Ingrid and Mapi held Rudy's hands as they swung her in the air.

“You’re so high, you're nearly in the sky!” Mapi laughed as they swung Rudy one last time before entering the playground.

Rudy’s smile beamed as she looked around the busy and colourful playground.

“What do you want to play on, chicken?” Ingrid asked as she stroked the little hand in hers.

“The jungle gym!”

“Fun! I love the jungle gym! Let's go!”

The three came up to the jungle gym, the sound of excited laughter and children playing coming from every angle.

“Come on then, chica!” Mapi shouted as she attempted to climb inside.

“Baby, I don’t think you can go inside.” Ingrid smiled sympathetically at her girlfriend.

“What? That's not fair I want to go in.” Mapi sukled.

“You’re too big Tieta.” Rudy laughed as she started to climb the rope to get inside the play area.

“Lets play with Rudy from the outside, okay?” Ingrid smiled as she stroked Mapi’s back.

“Fine.” The fully grown woman grumbled, her head hanging as she followed Ingrid.

“We’re right here Rudy!” Ingrid called out as the four year old began to climb.

“Okay!”

Rudy was then off on her adventure. She walked across the bouncy and roped bridge that hung high above the floor, while Mapi and Ingrid pretended to be monsters grabbing at her ankles. Laughing in hysterics when Mapi even pulled her shoe off.

She climbed further inside, coming to a stop at a red wheel that was attached to the climbing frame. Her imagination took over as she began to sail her pirate ship through stormy waters.

She climbed higher, crawling though a green caved tunnel, her ship abandoned as she was now exploring the tropical forest, running away from lions and tigers, better known as Ingrid and Mapi.

She was in her element, she loved the park, she loved playing pretend and making up her own little stories as she explored her surroundings. As an only child Rudy found it easy to play on her own, having been accustomed to being the only child in her family so far, besides from Mapi.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t a people person, having grown up with her lifestyle of having two mothers that were very well known within the sports world she had picked up people skills early. Having to attend football training before she could crawl, or even the odd awards ceremony before she could count to 10. She was a charismatic and kind girl, always looking for a new friend wherever she could.

And she found her next playmate next in line to go adventure down the slide.

“I like your shoes.” Rudy pointed at the blue glittery shoes of the girl in front of her.

A face full of freckles turned around to look at Rudy, then down to her shoes. A small smile crept on her face.

“My mommy got them for me”

Rudy smiled back, her head nodding up and down approvingly. Her curls bouncing with her.

“I’m 4.” The girl stuck four fingers up, smiling at her own words.

“I’m 4 too!” Rudy’s hazel eyes widened in shock, amazed that someone else could possibly share the same age as her.

“Do you want to play pirate?” The little girl asked, her big brown eyes reminded her of her auntie Ona.

“Yeah! We have to make sure the sharks don’t eat us. There's loads below the ship!”

Rudy clearly was already in character. Maybe she was more suited for the acting career.

The girl’s eye widened in shock, also quick to get into character. “Quck, we need to get down this slide and we can get to our ship!”

Rudy nodded with the most serious face, looking just like her mother before a game.

“Okay, let's go!”

It was Rudy's now best friend's turn to go down the slide, having waited patiently like all the other kids. She grabbed hold of the rails to sit on her bottom until she was suddenly pushed right into Rudy, making them both tumble over.

“Hey!” Rudy shouted as she looked up to see an older and bigger boy pushing in front of everyone else. Clearly never having been taught manners.

Alexia would have a field day with him.

“Girls, can’t play on the slide.” He declared.

Rudy couldn't believe her ears, that's not what her mummy and mama told her! “Yes they can!” Rudy shouted back, a small bit of anger rising in her voice.

The boy stuck out his tongue before sliding down the plastic slide.

“Are you okay?” Rudy asked her friend who now had watery eyes.

She nodded sadly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Don’t listen to him. He's wrong, girls can do anything we want.”

That brought a smile to her friend's freckled face. Both girls got back up, dramatically dusting off the dirt that sat on their clothes, finally taking their turn down the slide.

Ingrid and Mapi had sat on a bench nearby, the Norwegian looked over at the jungle gym where she saw Rudy emerge from the slide.

“Rudy, come have some water.” She called out.

The little girl ran over with her best friend in tow.

“Hello, what's your name?” Ingrid smiled at the little stranger.

“Dotty.” She replied shyly.

“My name’s Rudy.” Rudy explained as she took the water bottle from Mapi. “Gràcies.”

Both women shared a smile at each other. It was funny how as a child you could seemingly be friends and not even know the other's name. Though, I guess you could say it was the same when you were drunk in a night club toilet, making life long friends with strangers you would never see again.

“A boy pushed us over.”

Mapi was up in a shot. “What? Where? Who? Show me him.” The defender scanned the play ground, ready to fight a child.

“Oh no! That's not nice, are you okay?.” Ingrid frowned as she pulled Mapi back down to sit on the bench.

“And he said girls can’t go down slides.” Dotty chimed in, giving even more drama to the story.

“Oh really? Maybe I should talk to him. Show him exactly what girls can do.” The defender jumped up once more, only to be pulled back down by Ingrid.

“I think you both should stay away from him. He doesn't sound very nice.” Ingrid tried to reason with girls, nodding at her own words.

Both girls mirrored her movements, thankfully agreeing with the older woman, even if her supposed adult girlfriend beside her didn’t.

“Where do you want to play now?” The doe-eyed girl asked, having already forgotten about the incident.

“Hmm.” Rudy stuck her tongue out in thought. “The sand box.”

“I love the sand box! Let's go.” Dotty grabbed Rudy's hand in hers, running to their next adventure. Leaving Ingrid to remind Mapi why fighting a child isn't socially acceptable.

“Do you want to build a sandcastle?”

“Sí.”

The girls got busy building their sandcastle. Happily sharing the toys in the sand box and even helping the other when stuck with a tricky part of the structure.

“Is that your mama?” Dotty pointed over at Ingrid who was watching Rudy while also having her ear chewed off by her girlfriend yapping about the grass.

“No. She’s my Tieta Ingrid and she's my Tieta Mapi.” You smiled, waving back at Ingrid who noticed Rudy pointing.

“She looks like a princesà.” Dotty said as she stuck a leaf into the wonky but sturdy sandcastle.

“Sí.” She agreed as she got back to work. “My mummy and mama are at home.”

“You have two mama’s?” Dotty looked up from her bucket.

“Sí.” The curly headed girl nodded, smiling at the thought of her mothers.

“That’s so cool! I wish I had two mama’s! I only have one.” Dotty pouted at the unfairness.

“They’re lesbins. So are my Tieta’s.” Rudy explained, though she wasn't completely sure on what she was explaining, she just knew that’s what her mums were and many other women around her.

“Wow! I want to be a lesbin.” Dotty sat in thought, not having a clue what she was talking about.

The girls got stuck further into the castle, actually managing to make a decent sized structure. Rudy almost didn't notice the new arrival in the box as she began to make a mot.

The little boy had been quietly watching Rudy and Dotty build the castle from afar, slowly inching closer every few minutes, wanting to play but just being that bit too shy to ask.

Rudy looked up to see the shy boy sitting on the side of the box. His curly hair reminded Rudy of her Tieta Vicky, his tight curls hair sitting beautifully just above his shoulders.

“Do you want to play?” Rudy asked as she handed him a plastic shovel.

His little face lit up from being asked, he nodded and gently took the plastic from her hand.

“We’re making a river around the castle and then we’re going to put sharks and crocodiles inside so the bad guys can’t get us.” Dotty informed him of their masterplan.

The little boy smiled as he started to dig, loving the idea of all these animals protecting the castle.

“W-we should also put lions around it for more protection and they can have wings so they can fly and look for the baddies."

Rudy and Dotty looked at each other then back at the little boy. Eyes wide with excitement.

“Thats so cool!”

“That’s the best idea ever!”

The little boy chuckled gently to himself, happy that his idea was clearly liked by his new friends.

All three got into digging the mot, happily playing in their own little bubble, sharing the odd joke only a 4 year old would find funny, and maybe Mapi. The girls had even found out in the midst of chatter that the little boy's name was Leo and low and behold he was also four! Of course Rudy was in utter shock. Another four year old? You just couldn't make this up. But soon to be five. That was very important to know.

Leo stood up to unzip his jumper, getting hot in the summer sun.

Rudy nearly fell over when she noticed the t-shirt Leo was wearing. He was only sporting the Barcelona kit.

“My mummy and mama play for Barcelona! They were that kit!” Rudy shouted joyfully.

Leo looked down at his top, pulling the fabric to see what Rudy was so excited about. But being only four and not completely in charge of his wardrobe (because apparently you can’t wear your spiderman costume to school) he wasn't at the age of really dressing himself he wasn't sure what the clothing really meant, he knew it was something to do with football but that was about it.

“Do you play Barcelona?” Like I said, he wasn't up to date with the rules and regulations of the sport.

“Not yet, but when I’m bigger I will..” Rudy beamed confidently.

“I’ll be Barcelona when I'm bigger too.” Dotty nodded, more than happy to jump on the career wagon.

��Me too!” Leo giggled, excited to be part of something that clearly seemed to be the coolest thing ever.

Leo began to talk about his upcoming birthday party and had even invited the girls, though he wasn't sure on the date or time or address, but he was certain his mummy would know, and that was enough for the girls.

It was all going well, all three kids were chatting happily until an uninvited guest appeared.

“Why are you playing with girls? They’re not fun to play with.” The boy sniggered, kicking sand towards the group.

Dotty’s wide eyes looked up at the bigger boy, the very same boy who had meanly pushed her and Rudy over earlier.

Rudy kept quiet, not wanting to give the boy any form of interaction, just like Tieta Ingrid said to do. But Leo hadn't had the pleasure of meeting the bigger boy just yet, so he didn't catch on that this kid was bad vibes and basically unwanted company.

Leo looked at the boy then back at Rudy and Dotty, he couldn't understand the issue, they were his friends and he was having fun with them.

“They’re m-my friends.” Leo’s soft voice was just about audible.

“Well, you should play with us. We’re going to play football. You can be on the Barcelona team.” He pulled roughly at Leo’s shirt, clearly knowing the kit.

“Can my friends play too?” Leo asked, voice timid.

“No. Girls can’t play football.” The bully scoffed.

No, way was Rudy going to let that slide.

“Yes they can! My mummy and mama play football, they play for Barcelona!” Rudy stood up, her patience was starting to run out with this boy. And we all know the Putellas don’t have much patience.

“You’re so stupid, you can’t have two mums, dumb brain!”

Dotty wasn't having that. “Yes you can! Rudy has two mamas!” She bit back.

“No you don’t and they don’t play football.” The boy’s foot came close to the sand castle.

“Yes they do!” Dotty now stood up on her feet, ready to scrap for her life long best friend of 40 minutes.

“No they don’t! You’re a liar! Girls are stupid and can’t play football! You’re so dumb!” The boy’s face was turning a shade of pink, his anger getting the best of him.

“No! You’re dumb and you have dumb poo brains!” Rudy shouted loudly.

She knew her mums wouldn't be happy with her language right now, but nobody gets to diss her mums, especially this horrible and very obnoxious little boy.

Dotty began to laugh immediately, throwing her head back like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard anyone say.

I guess at 4 years old it was the ultimate diss to bring to the playground.

All three kids watched as the older boy’s face went from pink to red like a human chameleon, the embarrassment from Rudy’s words clearly hitting a nerve.

“No! You don’t even have a brain!”

But his words fell on deaf ears as Dotty’s laugh got obnoxiously louder.

And then the boy's temper boiled over like a volcano. He began to kick the side of the castle, making it crumble to the ground.

“Stop! Stop it!” Rudy shouted, her little fist balled up at her sides.

The bigger boy only ignored her and completely smashed the once impressive structure to the ground, laughing wickedly as he did it.

“You’re a bully and nobody wants to play with you!” Rudy shouted as she watched all their hard work being squashed under the foot of a spoilt little boy.

“Shut up!” The boy screamed so loudly the rest of the playground turned to see the commotion.

The bully then lurched at Rudy pushing her hard into the sand, quickly raising his chubby little fist in the air.

Rudy closed her eyes, her hands coming up to protect her face instinctively.

The boy brought his fist down hard, just in time to be caught by a bigger hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Mapi’s tone was hard.

Rudy felt herself being lifted up into the air. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Ingrid's words calmed her down instantly.

Rudy only nodded, her hazel eyes were on her auntie Mapi.

“Why do you think you can go around pushing people who are smaller than you? Matter of fact, why do you think you can go around pushing anyone?”

Rudy had never seen her Tieta Mapi like this before, she instantly felt like it was her fault that she was so angry.

The boy suddenly didn't have anything to say. He looked down at his feet, his lip began to wobble, clearly he had never had a telling off before. Even though Mapi wanted to go off on the boy she didn't want to make him cry or cause a scene. She let out a deep breath.

“Leave these kids alone. They don’t want to play with you.” She rolled her eyes as she shooed the boy away.

Ingrid felt Rudy go rigid in her arms. She stroked the girl's loose curls behind her ears and rubbed her back soothingly.

“Do you want to sit with us for a little bit or play with your friends?” Ingrid spoke softly.

“Sit with you a little bit.” Rudy whispered, a small pout poking from her lip, even Ingrid recognised that pout from the older Putellas.

“Okay.” Ingrid looked over at the two other kids who were still in the sandbox. “Rudys just going to sit with us for a few minutes, she'll be back soon.”

Dotty nodded, she leaned into Leo and whispered. “I think that one’s a princesà.”

“Wow.” The little boy looked over in wonder.

Mapi followed Ingrid to the bench, the four year old watched Mapi from Ingrid's arms, her usual happy self was nowhere to be seen and Rudy felt a weird feeling from it. Her tummy knotted up with worry. She was scared that she had been bad, maybe so bad that she wouldn't be able to stay with her aunties because they didn’t like her anymore.

Ingrid sat down with Rudy in her lap, keeping her close to her chest. “Do you want some water, cariño? Maybe a snack?”

Rudy shook her head, her hazel eyes misting over. Her little brain was going through so many different emotions. Mapi frowned at seeing how quiet the usually chatty four year old was. She worried the interaction had shaken her up more than she realised, but before Mapi had a chance to ask Rudy anything, a woman began to walk over with an angry step.

“Who do you think you are? Shouting at my son!” The woman raised her voice loudly.

Mapi scoffed. “No one shouted at your son and just so know he was about to hit my god-”

“Oh yeah, that's right. He said it was the one with two mothers. It's disgusting that you homo’s think you can just throw your sexuality anywhere you go, now you bring it to a park full of children. It's filth. And forcing a child into your sick lifestyle? You should be ashamed of yourselves.” The woman spat out, screaming at this point.

Mapi felt her chest tighten, the words didn't hurt her, she was more worried about Rudy and what this meant for her. She took a deep breath, ready to argue.

“You-”

“Hold Rudy please, sweetie.”

Mapi was cut off as she took Rudy from Ingrid, watching confused as her girlfriend stood up calmly from the bench.

Ingrid smiled all too sweetly before she cleared her throat. “I have had to watch your brat son bully most of the children in this playground. He has pushed, pulled and was even a second away from punching my god daughter in the face, after already pushing her for the second time. This is the first and only time I've seen you bother to step in, and that's only because you don’t like that your child has actually been told off for maybe the first time in his life.”

Mapi and Rudy hugged a little tighter as they watched the normally calm Norwegian continue to tear this woman a new arsehole

“You think you can come over here and have the nerve to tell us anything about our "lifestyle" when you can’t even control your child? Don’t make me laugh. Why don’t you and your son worry about your own selves? You clearly have no manners and neither does he. So, I suggest you take yourselves away, have a good look in the mirror and maybe find some decorum. Because frankly you should be the one ashamed of yourself.”

The woman couldn't believe her ears, she looked around the playground at the other parents hoping to get some kind of backup, but nobody came.

Ingrid’s sweet smile stayed on her face as she watched the woman's face turn red in embarrassment, just like her devil child.

“You- you�� ergh!” She stammered before grabbing her son's hand and leaving in an embarrassed huff.

Ingrid watched the woman walk off, catching a few thumbs up from the other parents that also shared her thoughts. She let out a sigh before turning around, the anger that had just been at her forefront melted instantly at the sight of Mapi and Rudy clinging on to each other like kola bears.

Mapi stared at her girlfriend in complete shock, but also adoration, she had never seen that kind of side to her before.

“You okay, baby?” Mapi asked Ingrid.

“Yeah. People are just so ignorant.” She shook her head as she stroked Rudy’s hair.

“Are you angry at me?” Rudy's small voice squeaked out.

Both of the women looked at each other then back at the little girl, clearly shocked at the question.

“No, Rudy! We aren't angry at you!” Mapi hugged the little girl tighter. “We were upset that the little boy pushed you. I didn’t like seeing you getting hurt.”

Rudy looked up at Mapi’s soft brown eyes, she nodded her head, grateful to understand the anger wasn’t directed at her.

Ingrid sat down next to them. “You could never make us angry, Rudy. We love you so much.” She smiled kindly at the little girl.

“Unless you became a Real Madrid supporter,” Mapi joked as she pocked Rudy’s stomach, making the girl laugh loudly. All her worries completely vanishing.

“That woman was angry.” Rudy declared.

“Well, she said some very mean things and Ingrid just had to remind her that you can’t go around bullying people.” Mapi smiled as she stroked Rudy’s cheek.

“He said girls can't play football, it made me angry because they can! You and my mummies play football!” The little girl frowned, confused why someone would think otherwise.

“Sadly, not everyone thinks like you, sweetie. Some people don’t agree that women should play football. But a lot of people do! You see them at the matches don’t you?”

Rudy slowly nodded her head, trying to take in the information. Ingrid could see the cogs turning in her head, she didn't want to overwhelm the girl with too much negative information. The blonde girl looked over at her friends that had stuck up for her, they didn’t think that way. It was a surprise to hear people would be so mean. Her four year old brain was still learning so much about the world.

Ingrid followed her eyes.

“Do you want to play with your friends for a little bit then we’ll head back to our place?” Mapi asked as she dusted some sand off of Rudy’s back.

“Sí.” Rudy nodded.

Ingrid smiled as she gave both Rudy and Mapi a kiss on the forehead.

Rudy spent another twenty minutes with her friends before Leo had to say bye. Promising the others that they would see each other when playing for Barcelona in the future.

“Ready, Rudy?” Ingrid smiled as her and Mapi approached the sand box.

“Sí. Bye Dotty.”

“Bye Rudy. Bye Rudy’s tietes. I’m going to be a lesbin too, just like you.”

Ingrid and Mapi’s eyes widened in shock. Both of their mouths were gapping like a pair of fish, neither knowing what to reply to the little girl.

“Did she just say?-”

“Sí. We can leave that with Alexia and y/n.” Mapi whispered next to Ingrid as she waved at the little girl that also reminded them of their teammate.

The three made their way out of the park, Ingrid spotting an ice cream van.

“Shall we get ice cream?”

“Yayy! Ice cream!” Mapi and Rudy shouted in sync.

They queued up in line in front of the ice cream van, Mapi’s and Ingrid hand protectively and lovingly wrapped in Rudy's own hands.

“What flavour would you like, chicken?” Ingrid already knew the answer but still wanted to ask. Just in case.

“Strawberry, please.”

“Chocolate for me please.” Mapi beamed as she looked over the menu. “And extra chocolate sauce.”

Once everyone put their orders in and everything was paid for, the three happily walked through the park, eating their ice creams. Ingrid only had to wipe chocolate off of Mapi’s cheek twice and Rudy once.

The 4 year old softly kicked her ball as she walked just a few steps in front of the couple.

“So, that was hot.” Mapi smirked.

“What was?” Ingrid raised an eyebrow in question.

“The way you told that awful woman off! My cute and sexy girlfriend being all protective. I loved it.” Mapi softly bumped her shoulder into Ingrid.

The raven haired girl chuckled, becoming a little shy.

“Do you think it’s the hormones?” Mapi asked as she looked back over at Rudy, completely unaware of the conversation.

“Yeah, I think so. I think even seeing Rudy getting bullied like that was awful. It made me so angry. And that bitch of a woman…” Ingrid paused to make sure Rudy hadn’t heard her. “...She made me so angry.”

Mapi nodded, taking Ingrid’s hand in hers and brought it to her lips, kissing her skin gently.

“She was awful. I’m glad you told her off. She looked like a deer in headlights.” Mapi laughed thinking of the memory.

“When do you want to tell Ale and y/n?”

Ingrid hummed in thought. “Maybe next month? I guess I’ll start to show soon.” Ingrid smiled as she touched her stomach.

“I can’t wait to tell them!” Mapi’s smile was from ear to ear.

“Me too. I also can’t wait to tell this little one. She’ll be so excited.”

The three did a lap round the park, even stopping to play some football. Just as they came to their exit Mapi noticed the bully boy to her right, stuffing his mouth with a cone ful of ice cream.

“Hey, Rudy, kick your ball over here.” Mapi pointed at her feet.

The girl was more than happy to do just that, unaware what was about to unfold.

The blonde gently kicked the ball at Mapis’ feet. The older woman looked at her target once more before launching the ball perfectly at the ice cream cone, causing the desert to fly right out of the boy's hand and into the muddy floor.

“Ops sorry!” Mapi faked an apology as she retrieved the ball, she couldn’t stop the smile on her face once she heard the boy start to cry loudly behind her.

She caught up with Ingrid and Rudy. The raven haired girl shook her head, trying her best to hide the smile on her face, but Mapi could see right through it. “Maria.” She chuckled.

“What? I couldn’t let you have all the fun.” The older woman laughed as she picked Rudy up and placed her on her shoulders.

Rudy squealed loudly as Mapi began to run.

“Faster, tieta Mapi! Faster!”

Ingrid shook her head, smiling as she watched the pair laughing together.

“You’re going to have the most crazy mama, but you’re going to be so loved.” She whispered as she stroked her stomach.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #fcb femení #ingrid engen x mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen #mapi leon #mapi and ingrid #alexia putellas x imagine #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine

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chithereader · 2 days ago

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losing my cool / aaron hotchner

part 2 to playing it cool !!! hope you like it word count: 1.6k pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader genre: angst at first, but fluff!!!!!! cw: more sickeningly sweet and soft aaron x reader, mentions of insecurities

The smile on Aaron’s face slowly fades as he takes in your frozen stance. You’re staring at him like he just shot you in the back and worry starts to fill him, “Honey..?” waving his hand in front of your face, hoping it would be enough to break you out of your stupor.

“Hello?” Still waving his hand in your face, your eyes darted to his. Your body is in a state of shock– in your mind, there’s a tiny version of you desperately digging her way out of a landslide of disbelief. Waves and waves of doubts and insecurities hindering you from processing what is happening.

Aaron watches as your mouth moves with barely any sound coming out. Like a fish out of water, you’re scrambling, “W-what?” That’s… a bit too shaky to be good.

He pauses to think. The doubts are starting to creep up on him.

Maybe he was too rash with his question.

Maybe that wasn’t the best way to spring it on you.

Maybe he should have waited for a better time.

Maybe he should have planned something.

Maybe she isn’t ready.

Maybe she just doesn’t want to marry me.

He tries hard to swallow all these dark thoughts, clearing his throat to fake the confidence that’s slowly diminishing, “I said, ‘Marry me.’” After he says those words again he stills, hoping that this time he’ll get an answer. And that.. it would be the answer he so badly wants.

But time slows down and his heart soon follows as he watches tears start to pool in your eyes. You’re shaking your head– they’re tiny shakes and you look panicked. This isn’t good. Not good at all.

He really wasn’t expecting this. It never occurred to him you’d say no. Or ..not yes. Aaron’s mind is running a million miles per hour. He doesn’t know what to do, or say. He barely even knows how he feels. And so he defaults to doing the one thing he does best (as a prosecutor at least): object.

This is triggered by your movement. You move around him, leaving the kitchen towards your living room. Your goal was to sit on the couch, craving some stability as your legs get weaker the more you’re processing what was asked, how you reacted, and how it could be coming across.

But Aaron’s legs are longer than yours. Before you even reach the couch, he’s holding your arm firmly and gently at the same time. He’s got that furrow in his brows that makes him look stern, but his eyes betray him as you can clearly see the worry in them.

“Well yes!” he says in disagreement. He doesn’t understand why you haven’t said yes, and as much as he isn’t the kind of man to ever force a lady into anything, a part of him is scared of what he’ll hear if he asks you why you’re not saying yes.

Though instead of allowing that fear to paralyze him, he allows it to control him. To bear its face because the softer, more rational part of him is hiding.

You’re avoiding his gaze, crossing your arms– you’re turning away from him. “No- Aaron, you– I don– I ca–”

You know he’s studying you. You can feel his eyes roaming your face, your neck, your body. He’s taking in everything he can because you’ve given him absolutely nothing so far. And oh how you wish you could voice it all out.

You just wish it was easy to say I don’t think I’m enough for you. What if you realize one day that I’m not good enough? Are you sure? Are you sure about this? About me? What if you start to want someone smarter? Prettier? Hotter? What if you want someone who is as accomplished or important as you? What if you get bored of me? What if–

You’re broken out of your thoughts when he suddenly straightens. He looks as if he’s realized something and the next thing you know you’re hit by a gust of wind because he’s running up the stairs.

Within an instant you run after him. A dozen scenarios are running through your head, the worst being Aaron packing your things because he’s going to ask you to leave. Your heart beats faster as you reach the top of the steps. You peek into your room and see him rummaging through drawers.

Your worries quiet significantly when you realize they’re his drawers. And just when you’re about to approach him, he turns around meeting you halfway. You’re both illuminated by the sunlight that’s coming through the bedroom window you’re standing in front of.

He’s still. He’s got a serious look on his face. You take him in, trying to read him but he’s got his profiler look on– unreadable and determined. His voice rattles you, “I’m sorry. That was a mistake.” Firm and devoid of any emotion.

Oh god.

You’re shaking your head, reaching to hold him by his arms. You start to cry, “Aaron please, that’s not what I–” but… he’s going down on one knee.

What?

He watched multiple emotions flicker on your face. Defeat, panic, confusion– “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have said that. I– I planned to do it better than that. I don’t know why I let it slip out, you deserve better than that.”

Before you can process it, Aaron’s holding out a ring. He’s holding your hand in the other while tears are streaming down both your faces. You have no idea how you heard it but you guess it’s simply a testament to how attuned you are to him when he whispers, “Please, please, please. Will you marry me, honey?”

Time stops. Literally. You can feel your heart in your chest beating louder, heavier. It’s pounding as if begging to be heard. Begging to let Aaron know that it beats for him and him only. You’re lowering yourself to kneel before him. You want to see his face properly. His eyes. His nose. His lips. This is the man you love. This is the man you want to marry. Your eyes are simply capturing every angle of this moment.

You’re leveled now. Equals. You grab both his hands in yours and you stare into his brown eyes. You want him to know you mean it, as you nod your head slowly and breathe out, “Yes.” A smile breaks across his face, tears starting to stream again.

You watch him as he tries to put the ring on your finger, getting it on the first try even if his sight is slightly hindered by his tears of happiness and relief. The sun makes the ring sparkle, catching your attention and you look at it properly for the first time.

It’s beautiful. Aaron would argue that the stone screams you – grace, loyalty, peace. He catches your eye and the both of you start to smile. You start to giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck while his arms snake around your waist.

He buries his head in your neck, breathing in your scent while silently thanking the heavens for granting him this. You break apart, startled to hear tiny footsteps nearing. The both of you start to stand up from the floor, straightening yourselves out and wiping the remaining tears staining your faces.

You both look to the door, waiting for the little boy to show himself. You hear a soft knock right before the door opens slowly, a head peeking in, “Daddy?”

Aaron goes to the door, opening it more for Jack to come in. The little boy goes straight to you and you pick him up in your arms with ease, resting him on your hip. You have your left hand holding him stable, and even though the little boy’s still groggy with sleep he notices the sparkling addition to your hand.

You take notice of how his little face lights up in excitement and you have no idea what about it he understands, “I help Daddy buy you that!” His voice is full of pride, genuinely proud that he had played a part in picking.

You’re confused, not fully understanding what Jack means. Looking to Aaron for an answer, you’re surprised to find him blushing. He looks shy and he’s shrugging at you but you can tell he’s trying hard to play it cool. The smile fighting its way on his face betrays him.

You decide to take your chance on the adorable kid that is now fiddling with your ring, watching in amazement at how much it’s twinkling in the light. Children are the most honest people you know anyway. Pursing your lips with squinted eyes, you investigate “What do you mean, bubba?”

“Daddy asked me what ring pop you want, so I asked you when we watched Spiderman and you said your favorite is the green one so I tell Daddy you want the green one!”

Your heart stutters and the tears start coming in again. Aaron asking Jack for his opinion for your engagement ring. Jack thinking it's a ring pop. Jack asking for your favorite ring pop flavor. Jack being proud that you got the ring you want, pop or not.

Brought out of your thoughts by Jack wanting to leave your hold, you put him down. You watch as he happily walks out of your room, presumably to go to the kitchen. You look at Aaron again, and just as you’re about to say something about what you just found out, you realize one thing. Spiderman.

You gasp. Covering your mouth in surprise, you slap his arm lightly, “That was our third date!”

Aaron laughs loudly, rushing out of the room before you can throw questions at him or even comments about how insane he is. He couldn’t care less. He was right.

a/n: just want to say thank you so much for the love and support i've been getting for my hotch fics!! as someone who's new here, it all means so much to me <33 i recently made a masterlist as i plan to write so much more and branch out to other characters i've been perpetually in love with!! leave requests of what you want to read or characters i can write about, i'd love to write for you guys ◡̈ tagging the people who wanted a part 2 for this: @pear-1206 @dedicatedfangirl2001 u guys are so sweet

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aerynwrites · 3 days ago

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God Forbid

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader

A/N: had this idea in my head and it wouldn’t leave so here you go lol. Sorry for the later than usual post but hope yall enjoy! Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: attempted SA, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, home invasion, breaking and entering, Simon saves the day as usual lol, gun violence, reader using a gun, soft at the end.

You can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips as you light the candle in front of you, the smell of vanilla and cinnamon hitting your nose once the wick catches and starts to burn. The windows in the living room connected to the kitchen are open, a gentle breeze shifting the gauzy curtains and bringing in the cool autumnal air.

It’s the perfect day.

It’s a Saturday, so you have the day off work. The weather has been wonderful you’ve been listening to your favorite music as you practically glide across the kitchen most of the day baking or moving to tidy up the house. Even now, veggies sit half chopped on the kitchen counter, broth on the stove getting ready to boil and -

Simon’s coming home.

That’s what made it the best day of all.

He had texted you early that morning - long before the sun rose from the horizon. He said he’d be home around dinner time if all went well with flights and such, and you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered in your chest or the smile that split your lips.

He’s coming home.

He had been away for six months this time - the longest he’s ever been gone. And while you were able to talk to him more often than usual, it just wasn’t the same as him being here. It never was. But you never complained. You knew what you were getting into when you started dating Simon - he had even tried to end things with you early on claiming you “deserve better than a ghost…”

But you’d shut him down and after some tears and reassurances on your part…he’d stayed.

But it wasn’t without conditions.

He tried to keep his work life separate from his one with you. He truly did. But being in the military - being part of the task force he was - it made him paranoid. After a year of trying to shield you from his own worries and fears, he couldn’t do it anymore.

You’d been hesitant when he brought up the fact that he wanted you to learn to defend yourself. You didn’t mind taking the self defense classes he’d signed you up for, even going so far as to accept training from Simon himself. But when he brought up the fact that he wanted you to learn your way around a gun…you’d almost said no.

But the flash of fear in his eyes made you relent. Something had scared him, and nothing scares him. So you’d agreed - silently grateful when he mainly insisted on you just knowing the basic like where they safety is, how to hold it and of course how to fire.

“God forbid you ever have to use one,” he said, voice grim. “But at least now you know how.”

All of it was worth it though.

The joy he brings you when he’s here and the joy you bring him vastly outweigh anything else.

You smile to yourself again as you move back to the cutting board.

God…you can’t wait to see him.

The next while passes by slower than you’d like, the giddiness of his arrival making the arms of the clock seem to move at a snails pace. But as you’re moving to dump the vegetables into the stew, you hear the telltale sign of a the front door knob jingling.

Excitement explodes in your chest and you’re heading for the door before you can blink. It still hasn’t opened, and you let out a small chuckle as you reach the door, imagining Simon fumbling with the keys and muttering curses under his breath. You reach for the door, unlocking it and pulling it open with a laugh.

“I didn’t take you for the nervous type, Si-”

Your words cut off abruptly when you come face to face with a stranger on your door step. Three of them, actually. Tall, muscular, intimidating military types that make a pit open up in your belly. Your fingers tighten on the door, closing it every so slightly as to lessen the opening into your home.

“Oh, uh…can I help you?” You ask, fighting off the dread settling in your stomach.

You can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from, but alarm bells go off in your head as the two men in the back glance at one another for just a moment, whispers you’re unable to decipher leaving their lips.

The one in front is the one to respond, words laced with an accent that you immediately identify as Russian.

“You can, actually,” he says casually, one thumb hooked through his belt loops while the other rests casually above the pistol on his hip. “We need to speak to a Simon Riley. Is he here?”

At the mention of Simons name you struggle against the instinct to freeze up. All of Simon’s warnings from the past flooding to the forefront of your mind.

“If someone ever approaches you asking about me, don’t answer them. Ever.” His voice is firm. “They aren’t asking after me in a friendly way, I can promise you that.”

You smile, trying to feign confusion.

“I don’t know anyone by that name,” you lie, palms getting clammy. “Maybe you have the wrong house? You might want to try-”

A heavy palm settling against the door cuts you off, the man in front of you looking down at you with an evil grin.

“Come now, little one. Please don’t lie - it just makes things harder.”

Panic shoots through you in an instant, and before the man can react you slam the door closed as hard as possible, flipping the deadbolt in place as you run back through the kitchen to where you left your phone.

Loud curses come from the other side of the door, and just as you reach your phone you hear wood splintering from behind you as they kick the door in. You see Simon’s name lighting up the screen on your phone and you answer as you grab the kitchen knife from the counter and move to sprint towards the back door.

“Simon!” You cry out, bumping into the couch in the living room as you hear thudding footstep behind you.

“You need to get to a gun,” his voice is steady, unnervingly so. He must have seen the men approach on the cameras he has installed around the house. “I’m almost there, love, please-”

You can hear the roar of the engine in his truck in the background as you approach the back door. It’s so close, just within reach, if you can just-

Your fingers barely brush the knob before a thick arm is around your waist and in half a breath you’re airborne. It isn’t long, but the shock of your feet leaving the floor, your phone falling from your hand as well as the knife, it makes the impact against the coffee table that much worse.

Air is forced from your lungs as you tumble roughly over the wooden surface, the table toppling over as you crash to the ground. The vase that was in the middle shatters as it follows you, and in a strange moment of delirium you can’t stop the wave of disappointment hat washes over you as the daisies that were in it scatter across the floor.

It doesn’t last long though, because soon your lungs burn for air that you can’t seem to inhale, your eyes move to see the man that had thrown you as he stoops down to pick up your phone, clicking a button and allowing Simon’s booming voice to crackle though the speakers.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” He spits, vitriol lacing every word. “If you lay a fucking hand on her, I’ll kill you myself-”

The man above you tuts mockingly as he approaches you, and you manage to find the wherewithal to rise up, hands behind you as you try to scoot away from him. You notice the other men pacing lazily around the room, seemingly unconcerned with the helpless woman on the floor.

“Now, now, Simon,” he jeers, “You mustn’t be so violent. I simply came for a chat, that’s all.”

The man’s hungry gaze never leaves you, but you don’t deviate from your path backwards across the living room carpet. The end table at the end of the couch is your goal - more specifically the 9mm pistol in it’s drawer, loaded and ready to fire whenever necessary.

In a moment of sheer bravery you jump to your feet, lunging for the table and its contents. The metal is somewhat familiar in your palm, and you manage to it raised at the intruder and the safety switched off, but before you can do much else a skilled fist knocks the weapon from your grasp and you don’t see where either goes as you’re tackled to the ground by one of the other men.

He’s heavy on top of you, squeezing what little breath you had from your lungs rough fingers tangle in your hair. You barely have time to react before blinding pain erupts from your head as it connects painfully with the floor beneath you - once, twice, three times until the assault stops.

Unfamiliar warmth trickles down your face, pain blooming from your nose and out in a spiderweb of pain as the tears finally come. You can just barely hear Simon’s enraged curses over the phones speaker, the entire world muffled as fear and panic and pain set in full force.

You’re going to die.

The man on top of you moves just enough to flip you over onto your back beneath him, the world spins around you, not stopping when your body does, and you have to fight the urge to vomit. The main assailant laughs cruley from where he stands above you, letting out a low whistle.

“You’ve got one feisty bitch, Simon. I’ll give you that…” he trails off for a moment, completely ignoring the curses being spit at him from the other end of the line.

He nods at the man trapping you, and without hesitation you feel his hands move down to the waistband of your jeans.

“I was honest,” the leader drones on. “We’re not going to kill her,” he appeases. “But you’re going to wish we did.”

You can’t stop the wail that escapes from your throat as he undoes the button of your jeans, your eyes immediately moving to check your surroundings for something - anything - that will save you. you feel the hope slowly drain out of you as you shove uselessly at the man on top of you, until a soft glint of metal shines at you from beneath the couch.

The gun.

In a moment of pure desperation, pure panic - a moment of life or death - the classes that Simon insisted you take, force their way through your panicked mind. In one quick movement you thrust your hips upwards, managing to just ever so slightly throw the man above you off balance just as you bring the heel of your palm up into his jaw with as much force as you can muster.

The impact startles him, you can physically hear and feel his teeth clack together from the force of the blow as he lets out a shout. You use his surprise to buck him off of you just enough to scramble to the right. The metal is cool against your burning skin and you turn just as you feel his hands on you once more.

The crack is deafening and your ears are ringing once more as dead weight settles in top of you. a chorus of shouts ring out around you but you can’t react, the body on top of you effectively trapping you to the floor your only weapon pinned between your chest and his.

You seem to observe the world through a fish bowl, the sounds far away and vision distorted as your mind tries to make sense of the visceral fear coursing through your veins. You hear more shouting, louder this time, and more gunshots and all you can do is close your eyes and cry as you wait for the inevitable.

But as soon as it started, it’s over.

Silence backfills what the ringing in your ears doesn’t, until you hear a faint call of you name.

It’s just your name over and over until the weight that’s on your chest lifts and your eyes fly open in panic until stormy brown eyes capture your own as calloused yet gentle hands pull you up from the floor.

Simon…

More tears flood your vision at the sight of the man you love in front of you, a strong arm wrapping around your waist. You can see his lips moving though the haze, but you can’t understand what he’s saying the ringing in your ears still blocking everything out, your panicked mind still scrabbling for control.

Simon reaches up, snapping his fingers next to your ears a few times until you start to register the noise, and when you flinch, he stops - letting go of you only long enough to shed his jacket and bring the soft fabric up to your face.

“Simon,” you say, his name coming out on a sob.

He shushes you softly, wiping gently at what you realize now, is the blood trickling down your face.

“I’m here love, you’re alright, you’re safe…”

Finally you get your limbs to cooperate, hands reaching out to clutch desperately at his shoulders, balling the fabric of his shirt between your fingers.

“A-are they…can they-”

Simon shakes his head, eyes filled with regret and sorrow. “They can’t hurt you. Not anymore. Made sure of that.”

At the acknowledgment of their demise, you break down even more, but this time out of utter relief.

“I’m sorry,” you cry, moving to shelter yourself in the familiar warmth of his chest, “I - I tried. They asked abo-about you and I tried to stop them but I-” more tears interrupt your words and Simon just holds you tighter.

“You did good, love” he assure you, his own voice breaking. “Goddammit,” he mutters. “I knew this was a bad idea, I knew it - I told you-”

You just clutch him tighter, shaking your head.

“Please don’t,” you shudder, fear gripping you again. “Please don’t leave me.”

He drops the jacket opting to wrap both arms around you, holding you tightly against him.

“Never,” He promises firmly, lips pressing to your temple.

He continues to hold you, rocking side to side gently until your cries quiet and you’re able to take full breaths once more. Only then does he pull away, examining you quickly.

“I called the team when I found out what was happening,” he says quietly, hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. “They’ll be here any minute to deal with…all this.”

You nod, wincing at the jolt of pain it sends through your head, making a frown tug at his lips.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You nod again, gentler this time, and Simon goes to stand. However, you stop him before he can get up, and he looks down as you wrap your arms around him again.

“I still love you,” you tell him softly, able to read his inner insecurities from a mile away.

He freezes at your words, struggling to accept them before letting his shoulder finally fall.

“I love you too.”

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #cod #call of duty #edit: for formatting

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lumiambrose · 3 days ago

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fluff, suggestive ending

It’s rare to see your sleepy boyfriend wake up before you. So you’re initially surprised when you wake up to a half-empty bed. Duvet covering half of your sleepy figure. Taking your time, you slowly slip out of bed and make your way towards the living room, following the fresh aroma lingering in the kitchen.

The smell of coffee and sizzling bacon pulls you from bed. Padding into the kitchen, you find Xavier at the stove, wearing your apron and swaying to soft music. His disheveled hair captures the sunlight, making your heart skip a beat.

He glances back, grinning. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

Before you could open your mouth to reply, his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. The warmth radiating from his body is intoxicating, and you can feel the subtle vibration of his laughter. His finger grazes your chin, tilting it upwards to capture your lips in a kiss that’s slow and lazy—the kind of kiss that makes you forget any sense of time.

"Mmm," he hums, voice low against your face, pressing a few more kisses to your lips, your cheek, and that spot just below your ear that makes you heat up. "You look so beautiful in the mornings. How's a guy supposed to focus?”

"On what, burning breakfast?" you tease, slipping out of his grasp to move the pan away from the heat of the stove. Turning back to face Xavier, you decide to see how far you can tease him.

“Well, at least you didn’t set the smoke alarm off... yet.” You giggle as he makes his way towards you and the no longer edible breakfast.

He lets out a groan, tossing the burnt pancake onto a plate with dramatic flair before turning back to you, hands on his hips. “This was supposed to be a romantic breakfast in bed. But nooo, someone just had to show up early and distract me with their... everything.”

“Blaming me, huh?” You raise an eyebrow at the remark, snagging a piece of bacon that might still be edible. “You’re the one who got lost in the moment.”

(It was not edible)

His arms once again find their place wrapped around your figure, with his head resting on your shoulder. “I regret nothing. Well... except for maybe ruining the pancakes.”

You chuckle again, placing a swift kiss to his cheek before nudging him towards the kitchen island. “How about you prepare some tea and I’ll make breakfast, hmm?”

Xavier, still attached to you, murmurs a sound of disapproval. “Mmm, don’t wanna let go. You’re so warm...”

So, instead of preparing breakfast like you intended, you’re instead swooped up into Xaviers arms as he carries you back to your bedroom.

“I think I have a better way for us to wake up.” He places you down on the bed as he hovers over you, a hand grazing the inside of your thighs. “Don’t you agree, my love?”

©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

#ambrose.fics #xavier x reader #xavier #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace #xavier fluff #lads xavier x reader #lads xavier #lnds xavier #l&ds xavier #love & deepspace xavier #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace fic #lads #lnds #l&ds

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thebookewyrme · 20 hours ago

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Hey! Almost-40 here and experienced with this! I promise! All is not lost! You can very much have a life where friendships are your important relationships as much as family, I promise! First, modern technology is fucking amazing and you are not doomed to lose your friend just because they are moving away. Think of it like a long-distance relationship! I have been in a long distance relationship for about 8 years. Due to family obligations, I cannot move from where I am for at least another 5 years. Several of my dear friends, including my platonic partner, have also left the state I live in to escape anti-lgbt government. The secret is to make time for doing more than just short phone calls in those relationships. Use video-calling and screen-sharing technology to watch tv & movies together over long distance. Get involved in an online multiplayer game with them. Hell, play words with friends with them! There are many ways you can connect without being in the same place, and between those longer interactions, keep up the texting/messaging as often as you can.

Second, it is still possible to make new friends as an adult. Maybe you won’t have exactly the same relationship with them as your friend who moved away, but you can still form deep and meaningful connections. There are apps for finding friends now! If you’re queer I highly recommend Lex, I’ve found several friends there. Also, going out and doing things you like. Find out if your library has a craft group, or a book club, or whatever. Join a roller derby team. Go to game stores that have open ttrpg game nights and join a Pathfinder one-shot every week. Whatever you like doing in meatspace, find a group for doing it with and join it. You will make friends. Another strategy is volunteering for community projects. Volunteer with a soup kitchen, or the local pride center, or at the library. The people you volunteer with can become friends as well.

But most importantly do not give up and become an asocial shut in (be a shut in if you need for disability reasons, but keep reaching out and being social in whatever ways you can). And remember, you can visit your friends still, even if they move very far away. Maybe not often if you’re poor like I am, but sometimes you’ll be able to. They are not gone from your life forever, and just because one friend leaves you are not doomed to loneliness. You will miss your friend when they are gone. It will be hard sometimes. Feel your feelings, then get up the next day and keep being part of your community wherever you find it. It’ll be ok I promise.

And if all else fails, you’ve still got tumblr. 💚

Going on r/relationshipadvice but instead it’s just how not to be all consumingly heartbroken to learn a dear friend of yours is moving away

#adult friendship

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littleslaywrites · 3 days ago

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thanksgiving | spencer reid x reader

nsfw, mdni

summary: you spend your first Thanksgiving as a couple with Spencer.

word count: 1.2k

cw: smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex

It was your first Thanksgiving together, opting for a night in at your apartment since neither of your families lived nearby. You had been in the kitchen all day, following the instructions your mother had texted you on how to cook the turkey. Spencer had gotten back from a case late the night before, and the whole team had been given the holiday off.

Spencer knocks twice before opening up the door. He had a key, but still knocked, no matter how often you told him that it wasn’t needed. The smell of turkey and pie hits him the second he steps through the doorway.

“Happy Thanksgiving, y/n,” he says, bringing a smile to your face. He takes off the sweater he wore over, feeling the heat from the oven and the heater.

“Hey, baby,” you answer, checking to see how baked the pie was so far. “Did you get some rest?”

He nods, approaching you and leaning back against the counter. You smile up at him, his hair slightly tousled from sleep. Leaning in to kiss him, he wraps his arms around your waist. His hands wander until they make their way under your sweater. His fingertips explore the skin under it reverently, bringing butterflies to your stomach.

“Do you want to eat first?” you raise your eyebrows, teasing him for his eagerness.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea.” He flips the two of you so you’re the one pressed against the counter. He moves his hands down to your jeans and unbuttons them. He pulls down your underwear along with them, following them to the floor and getting on his knees. You lift your feet to get your pants fully off, and he captures your second leg before you can put it down again.

He hooks your leg over his shoulder. You grip the counter. “You know this isn’t what I meant.”

He only hums as he drags his thumb from your clit down to your hole, feeling the wetness that gathered between your thighs. “It doesn’t seem like you mind,” he quips as he brings his lips to your pussy.

You have no response to that as you get lost in the way his tongue brushes against your clit. He leans in further and moves lower until his mouth is on your pussy and your nose is prodding at your clit. His tongue pushes into you, making you whimper into the empty apartment. He hums in response, sending vibrations to your core that make you weak at the knees.

He tugs are your sweater, signaling for you to take it off. It falls to the floor, your bra quickly following. Spencer brings his hand up to squeeze at your breast, flicking at one of your nipples. His other hand moves down to take off his belt. He unbuttons his pants and reaches inside them to palm himself as he eats you out.

“Spencer-“ you begin, quickly silenced by him curling his tongue. He pulls away to replace his mouth with his middle and index fingers from the hand that had been on your breast. He slowly drags them out and back in, thrusting at a pace that’s just slightly too slow. His thumb moves to your clit, brushing against it teasingly.

You release one of your hands from its tight grip on the counter and grab onto the fabric at his shoulder, signaling him to meet you by standing. He rides, fingers still filling you.

He leans to kiss you so you can taste yourself on him. “What do you want, y/n,” he asks into your mouth as your hand moves under his shirt to touch the skin just above the waistband of his underwear.

“You, Spencer,” you reply breathlessly, bordering on begging.

As usual, Spencer is unable to resist you, removing his fingers, pulling off his shirt while you slide his pants off. He moves away to get his remaining clothing off and into a pile with yours. Hurrying back to you, his hands land on the counter on either side of you, pressing his body against yours. You feel his hard length rubbing against you, seeking friction.

His hand goes to squeeze your hip, running along your side until he makes it to the back of your thigh. He brings up your leg to hook around his hip. Spencer slides his tip up and down your folds to gather the slick from his earlier work.

You grab at his shoulders, squeezing as he brushes against your clit. He slides into you easily due to the arousal that’s gathered at your core. His cock fills you, causing you to cry out.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Spencer says into your ear as he slides himself almost fully out of you, “let me hear you”.

He pushes back in, hitting your sweet spot. His arms wrap around you, then slide down to your ass and grab. You squeal as he smiles down at you. His thrusts were languid, simply enjoying the moment as he splits you open.

Slowly, he begins to speed up as he chases his release. He leans into your shoulder, whimpering into your ear, causing your walls to flutter around his cock. One of his hands moves from your ass to circle your clit in response to the way your walls grip him. The light touches cause you to arch your back to chase the friction.

You grab at his hair and tug to look at him in his eyes. The brown has turned to black from his arousal, and the eye contact causes his cock to twitch inside of you.

“Y/n, I’m-“ he tries to get out through his ragged breaths. His forehead shines with sweat as the heat from the oven mingles with the heat form your bodies.

“I know, baby,” you breathe out, “me, too”.

One more brush over your clit and you feel yourself letting go, pleasure overwhelming your senses. His thrusts start to lose their rhythm and his grip around your thigh tightens. Your walls clench around him, and he has to fight to keep moving. As your climax comes to an end, he buries himself inside you and cums. He groans and rests his forehead against yours, both of you breathing through your releases.

After a moment, he pulls out and kisses you on the forehead before going to your bathroom to grab a washcloth to clean you up. Placing it over the faucet in the kitchen, he puts his clothes back on, smiling at your disheveled state. The alarm on your phone jolts you out of your haze.

“If you’re still hungry, the pie is done,” you say, going to grab the oven mitt.

“I’ll get it,” he says as he takes the mitt from you and hands you your clothing. You dress as the warmth from the opened oven flows over to you. “It smells delicious,” he says, placing it on the stovetop.

Taking the mitt of his hand, he makes his way over to your now clothed form, hand running through your hair as he kisses you tenderly.

“Do you know how to cut a turkey?” you ask him, realizing it’s the one thing the recipe didn’t detail. The two of you break into giggles as he pulls away, smiling from the pleasure of both the sex and your first Thanksgiving of many.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader

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moonstrider9904 · 1 day ago

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feuilles d'automne

Steb x fem!Reader (Enforcer)

Summary: Amid your assignment to guard a fancy old folks' home in Piltover, you find yourself speechless when you stumble upon a pair of ocean eyes.

Word count: 3.9k

Tags/warnings: Mature and SFW, flirting, kissing, mild suggestivenes if you squint. Enforcer!Reader. Fluff in general, pre-relationship, first meetings, awkward situations, and I accidently created a side original character who I adore. Enjoy!

Sequel: après la bataille | My Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Thank you to everyone who's read, reblogged, and commented on après la bataille. I did not expect it to be met with so much love and support. Our precious fishman husband would be happy to know such a lovely bunch of people are his fans. You have all made writing these stories all the more fun and enjoyable 💙

The scene before you looked like it could have been taken from an Ionian painting. Rays of golden sunlight peered through the spaces between orange, red, and yellow leaves of many trees around the courtyard of the Verona old folks’ home, a peaceful place that lay in the northern outskirts of Piltover, far away from Zaun and the heart of the city where the shops and the smog could cloud the horizon.

Your assignment was simple: make sure the elderly folks who lived their days out in that home didn’t get into trouble. You couldn’t think of anything less challenging to an enforcer hungry to serve, not that you’d complain. It was work, and it was quite the lovely setting. Standing on the porch of the main building, a large mansion built in white stone with a dark blue stone tile roof, its architectural style being some fusion of classic Piltovan and mild Ionian influences in the details and finishings, you breathed in the clean, fresh air. Your eyes would continue to scan the celestial beams of light bleeding through the trees and eventually finding rest either in the grass, cobblestone paths, or even the small glistening pond at the very center of the courtyard.

On the bridge that went over the pond was an old couple who, according to what you’d heard so far, had known each other since they were children—how beautiful to spend a lifetime next to someone, and to face one’s own twilight in a place as peaceful and beautiful as that, holding the hand of the person who’d been through it all with you. It was a bittersweet thought, but such a place evoked those emotions in you, and suddenly, you felt lonely, longing and yearning for a companion. Regardless, you remained the only enforcer manning your post, forcing yourself to tear your attention away from romanticizing the peace of the scenery you beheld to keep watch of the elderly in your charge, only to be met by—surprise—no signs of trouble.

And then you heard the whistle. You weren’t particularly fond of the high-pitched sound of your own whistle, a part of your gear as an enforcer to use as a first means to dissipate any trouble you encountered, or simply to call attention to anything of note. You weren’t exactly happy by the fact that the whistle you heard at that peaceful moment, now broken, hadn’t been your own. Your knowledge up until that moment had been that you were the only enforcer on duty at the courtyard, and you sooner would have contemplated the possibility of one particularly mischievous elderly woman sneaking it away from you and blowing it to cause her equivalent of a riot in an old folks’ home, than to face the possibility of a counterpart entering the scene to aid in your assignment. When the whistle faded from your ears, you looked over your shoulder.

Only half looking forward to the encounter and with little hopes of it being transcendent, when your eyes caught even a glimpse of the whistle’s perpetrator, you lost the ability to move. Any notion of how to blink or breathe seemed to leave you, and if you were turning your neck to allow your gaze to follow his figure, you were sure it was his doing, drawing your eyes to him like a magnet, rather than your own will. You had just started to feel the air and the sunlight sting at your unblinking eyes, and then you saw that his own were now looking at you. The golden leaves and grass of autumn faded for a moment into an endless oceanic hue that could make you feel immersed in the deepest seas far off the other side of Runeterra. And for the amount of detail you picked up on during that single glance, you could have sworn you’d been staring for ages already—the way his blue-green skin contrasted with the rich blue of his uniform and even more so with the golden landscape, the way his resting face appeared so unamused that it made you fear yourself unworthy of speaking to him, the subtle lines near his jawline that you found out to be gills, and possibly the most stunning of all, the delicate frills crowning his eyes that could nearly be mistaken for the rest of the markings decorating his skin.

And for all the distance in this Vastayan enforcer, his eyes seemed to become more round as he too looked at you, with his gaze visibly softening for a moment while the frills around his eyes moved in a delicate wave before coming to a halt. Your mind replayed that scene for you countless times, and for the way you felt your chest swelling, you figured it was a miracle you weren’t yet flat on the ground.

“Hark,” you squawked, failing miserably in your first attempt to greet him.

He raised a brow and didn’t do much more for gestures, making you wish you could blend into the nearest tree trunk and stay there.

“It is time for them to return inside, is it not?” He finally spoke in a thick, elegant accent, and the rich sound of his voice dissipated your embarrassment. His voice was baritone, deep and far smoother than you could have expected—for a moment you couldn’t believe it could really be coming from him. His striking physique alone was already too much to contend with.

“Y-Yeah,” you brought yourself back to stability, fidgeting among the pouches of your belt to pull out your pocket watch and glanced at the time. 4:01 exactly—yes, it was time for them to go inside, and the telltale hand of the pocket watch tilted slightly off the 12 mark let you know you had been in awe of this man for a solid minute, and you were already done for. The pocket watch may as well have been laughing at you. But you closed it up and put it back into your pouch, exhaling with as much confidence as you could muster. “Yes, 4:00 is the cutoff, and they’re expected to be coming back in to prepare for dinner.”

“Then why aren’t they coming?” He asked, glancing out at the old folks who continued to enjoy their time in the chilly fresh air and sunlight.

“Oh, I usually opt for a different signal,” you answered, taking a step forward and inhaled all the way to your belly. “TIME’S UP, COME IN FOR DINNER!”

Your six words caught the attention of all the elderly scattered in the courtyard and, slowly but surely, they all began making their way towards the porch where you stood, chatting pleasantly amongst themselves and their aides. It was hard for you not to giggle when you looked over at your new acquaintance and saw his round eyes gazing at you, his frills standing upright at the shock of such a loud voice emerging from you.

“I’ve been doing this for a week,” you flaunted.

“I can…” he trailed off for a moment as he flinched his gaze over to the courtyard again. “Tell… though even with your lungs, you missed one.”

You looked in the direction he was gazing, and you weren’t surprised when you saw the youngest soul in the entire old folks’ home getting ready to rebel against your command. The dowager Mrs. Evelyn McCawley, or Granny Evelyn as you’d come to call her, was a short little old woman who made one think of hugs and freshly baked cookies. That day, she was wearing a bright red sweater and her hair was packed into a neat low bun, and she was looking over at you and your new companion from the other side of the pond as though wanting to get your attention. You knew her well already, but you once again wanted to giggle at how your new partner must have been puzzled by her, unaware of the sheer amount of stunts you’d already witnessed from that woman.

“You won’t take me!” Granny Evelyn shouted and turned her back on you, charging as fast as she could (and that wasn’t very a fast walk, mind you) for a tree nearby.

“Is she well?” He asked you.

You chuckled. “Yeah, she does this. The high point of Granny Evelyn’s day is the courtyard, and that’s saying something, as you can probably tell from her charming demeanor. You’ll never meet anyone who has more fun with life than her.”

There was no need to watch over the rest of the elderly walking onto the porch, as any of them who needed help were already being guided by their nurses. You and your companion kept your gaze fixed on a whooping and giggling Granny Evelyn as she took quick, small little steps toward the tree until reaching the trunk, clutching her hands onto it, and lowering herself to the ground where she lay face down on the grass, her little frame illuminated by the rays of sun that escaped through the leaves.

“Can she get up from there on her own?” Your new companion asked, his eyes widening in concern.

“Nope,” you chuckled, unbothered. “Someone better check on her.”

“I’ve got this,” he said, starting his way in Granny Evelyn’s direction.

“Oh, she’ll be fine,” you replied as you picked up on the concern in his deep, luscious voice. “She just needs help getting off the ground.”

You walked after him through the dreamy courtyard and crossed the bridge over the pond—in other circumstances, your curiosity would get the better of you, and you’d make more of a play to spend some time with him in that romantic bridge, maybe finally ask him what his name was, but flirting while Granny Evelyn lay on the grass would raise more than a few red lights in upper command. Eventually, you both reached Granny Evelyn, splattered face down on the grass in a star-like position, and her back suddenly fluttered with a giggle.

“You’ve done this four times this week,” you said to her.

“And every time, I succeed in staying out here longer!” Granny Evelyn teased, her voice muffled in the grass.

“Well, unlucky for you, now I have help,” you tilted your head, and your companion took your words as his cue to get down on his knees to aid Granny Evelyn.

“Ma’am, I’m going to help you up now, if that’s alright,” he said politely, and authority swam in his voice. Granny Evelyn picked up on the unique timbre and rich qualities that floated to her ears, and yours as well, and she jerked her head to the side in his direction to get a glimpse of him.

“Oh?” Granny Evelyn giggled. “Oh, my! Yes, of course you can help me, mister… could you be so kind as to let an old lady know your name?”

He directed a smile at Granny Evelyn, one so discreet and smooth you had to tighten your whole body to keep from sighing dreamily at the sight, or whimpering at how ridiculously gorgeous he was. It was then that you were also able to notice his ears tilted slowly downward, though this was mostly concealed by his uniform hat, and when he gave a slow blink, you picked up on the third eyelid subtly appearing in the movement.

“You may call me Steb,” he said.

“Oh, please help me up, Mr. Steb,” Granny Evelyn’s eyes sparkled at him, and as Steb helped her back up to standing, her gaze shifted between you and him. “Look at you both, so young and bright and loyal to your city.” As she continued glancing at you both, you were able to look away from Steb for long enough to notice the childlike mischief that flashed through her eyes before she fixed her gaze on him again.

“Oh, you are indeed a looker, stunning in your own right!” Granny Evelyn then called you by your name. “Isn’t Steb handsome, dearie?”

You pulled to a halt, and your wide eyes inevitably drifted over to Steb, feeling heat rushing to your cheeks with no signs of stopping or hope of discretion. His ocean blue eyes met yours, and he was also visibly caught off guard by the question, and just as Steb was opening his mouth to speak, possibly to have swiftly dismissed the whole matter and returned things to normal, you just had to open yours.

“Yeah,” the syllable left you quickly, nearly in a whimper, and immediately you felt incapable of meeting his gaze, wishing a chasm would suddenly open in the ground beneath you so that you could use it to be transported far away from there.

“I think so too!” Granny Evelyn’s chirpy cheer diffused some of the tension, and she then turned to Steb. “She’s quite lovely too, is she not?”

Though you were trying not to look at him, you noticed Steb’s calm exterior faltered for a fraction of a second before regaining his composure, and his beautiful eyes were no longer on you.

“I guess,” he answered.

Instantly, you turned your head back in his direction, and against your will, your gaze narrowed at his claim.

“You guess?” Heat rushed to your cheeks again while your brows knit together.

“Woops!” Granny Evelyn said. “Dinner time, folks! I need to be inside!”

With a sigh, you forced your frustrations away and linked your arm in Granny Evelyn’s, leading her across the courtyard and back to the porch while Steb lingered behind the two of you, carefully following your pace in silence. At the top of the porch’s stairs, a nurse waited for Evelyn, and you handed her off with a polite smile, watching as the cheeky granny disappeared into the building. In a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the embarrassment, knowing Steb was still nearby, you pondered on how much of a menace Granny Evelyn must have been as a kid if her old age kept up that amount of spunk.

Now that the elderly were inside preparing for the rest of their evening, you were off duty. You ran out of thoughts and excuses to keep your back turned on him, and as if to emphasize that, you soon heard Steb pacing up the stairs, stopping just a couple of steps below you. You turned around and looked at him, no longer enraged like before, but with your guard up and nowhere near the same amount of dewey-eyed desire you had when you first lay your gaze on him. Steb’s eyes held concern in them, and you knew he was aware of how he made you feel. He then removed his hat, and much to your dismay, he was far more attractive without it.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “Would you forgive me?”

You crossed your arms and frowned, angling your body away from him. “I guess,” you spat, quoting him.

A sigh left him, though his lips seemed to curve in the hint of a smile. “I really am sorry. I know you’d rather have heard another response, and… I would rather have said something else.”

Some part of you wanted to admit you’d hoped he’d also, in some way, audibly confirmed he found you attractive. Mundane as it seemed, you felt something like that could make your day. You angled yourself toward him again, your gaze softening as you looked at him—confound how beautiful he looked even when he apologized. Holding his hat at his side, Steb’s gaze softened too, and his round eyes held a tender gleam that somehow made him seem like he was pouting. You thought of how different this look on his face was from the one with which he first walked on the porch, blowing the whistle. At the same time, you noticed his ears slowly tilting up, expecting your answer. But an instinct within you overruled whatever it was you wanted to confess to him, and intrusive thoughts of how everything could become complicated and how embarrassed you felt came pouring in, and you quickly turned around.

“My shift is over,” was the last thing you said, and you ran away from the porch.

You didn’t even want to think of the disappointment Steb felt watching you run away, and you wouldn’t let yourself ponder on how you’d blown it with him in a second. The week that followed that incident wasn’t any easier for you. Steb made attempts to talk to you and make things right, but you wouldn’t budge, and you kept your distance. Naturally quiet as he was, it seemed he wasn’t making much of your situation anymore, and nearly one week after the unfortunate event, you were convinced nothing more of note would happen in regard to the two of you.

One day, you found yourself carrying out your courtyard duty standing alone on the bridge over the pond. Things were as lovely and peaceful in the courtyard as they always were, and you were finally able to focus on the chilly autumn air that you loved so much, as opposed to recent events. Your shift was almost over, and you were looking forward to it being calm and uneventful, but when you heard steps coming onto the bridge—steps that were far too quick and well-placed to belong to an elder—you began to suspect something else was in store.

“Will you really not talk to me again?”

When Steb’s deep, smooth voice filled your senses, you could no longer deny how much you missed him. You turned around and faced him as he cautiously walked up to you at the top of the bridge, stopping a couple paces away from you.

“It’s not like you need much talking anyway,” you replied. “I’ve seen how quiet you are. Besides, you have your whistle.”

He gave a shy chuckle, and you noticed him exhale some tension away.

“It’s a start,” he said, mostly to himself. When you didn’t utter a response, he inched closer to you and tilted his head down slightly to one side, his bright eyes catching yours. “Hey…”

The softness of his voice paired with the beauty of his eyes were a lot for you to handle, and suddenly you didn’t trust yourself to resist him anymore. Your gaze softened at him, looking up at him with a tender gleam of hope not unlike what you felt when you first met him.

“Can I start over?” Steb asked you.

The chilly air began to blow stronger, ruffling the trees around the courtyard. You replied in a soft chuckle and playfully rolled your eyes, gazing out at the courtyard filled with elderly folks enjoying the day.

“We’re supposed to be on duty,” you said.

“Yes, but I’ve seen enough of this place to know the only person we should worry about getting in trouble is sitting up on the porch having a cup of tea,” he said as his eyes looked over at Granny Evelyn, who sat on a rocking chair smiling far away from you both. “I think it’ll be fine.”

With a soft laugh, you tore your gaze from the courtyard and looked at Steb, raised a brow at him, and shook your head smiling.

“I can’t believe you,” your eyes sparkled at him. “Fine, you may start over.”

Steb smiled at you, looking more handsome than you ever thought possible, and slowly he moved closer to you, meeting your gaze with flirtatious eyes.

“Hi,” was all he needed to say for you to know you were done for.

You laughed, bewildered at the power this Vastaya held over you, and at the fact that you had tried to push him away when it was clear that what was happening at that moment was all you’d wanted.

“Hi,” you giggled in return, feeling your cheeks getting hot.

A strong gust of wind powered through your silhouettes, blowing your uniform hat right off your head for it to land on the wooden floor of the bridge. You and Steb both let out small exclamations of surprise, and he bent over to grab your hat for you. When he stood up straight and held it out for you to take, you noticed that the gust of wind had blown a single, dry, golden leaf onto Steb’s shoulder. You looked up at him, loving how he still stood out incredibly in that autumn landscape, and you both smiled softly at each other. Before you took your hat, you reached your hand up to Steb’s shoulder and you gently took the leaf that had landed on him, casting it aside as delicately as it had fallen. But after the leaf was gone, your hand lingered on his shoulder, and tension built between you as you both remained there. Your smile had faded into the nerves that came with being so close to him in such a lovely setting, but it returned to your lips when Steb smiled back at you and his gaze softened in adoration.

You stopped thinking and let your hands guide you through the moment. You pressed your palm onto his shoulder and let it travel to the crook of his neck, and you pulled Steb down closer to you, perking on your toes, and you shyly kissed his lips. You basked in how smooth his skin was under your fingertips and how warm he was, and before you exploded into nerves, you heard your hat dropping onto the bridge floor, feeling both of Steb’s hands cupping your face, gently yet firmly, as he kissed you back. The shyness fled from you, and you kissed Steb more securely when you felt him reciprocate, sliding your arms around his shoulders and pressing your body to him—you didn’t give a Yordle’s mitten if anyone was watching or muttering about you, or if you were on duty. All that mattered was that, as you kissed him, you felt Steb smiling into your lips and his hands traveling down around your waist.

Your mind exploded in fireworks the longer you two kissed, and your thoughts jumped from possibility to possibility; all the firsts you could have with him, all the places you could hold his hand and all the ways you could explore his body and all the markings on his skin, but you knew that would come later, and at the moment you could delight fully in the feeling of him kissing you. Yes, you were absolutely smitten, and you were looking forward to much, much more of that.

From the porch, you and Steb were being watched with a warm smile. Evelyn McCawley had seen a lot in her lifetime, and each experience had taught her to view life with the wonder a child would have. Her eyes could no longer spot a butterfly from afar, but she could see you and Steb finally getting along all too well, and a smile lit her features in hope and subtle heartbreak. Seeing the two of you in uniform sharing a loving moment reminded her of when she was a young nurse charmed by a handsome soldier—she saw her and her beloved in the two of you. And with that same smile, Granny Evelyn pulled a wrinkled picture from the pocket of her purple knit sweater, gazing at the eyes that looked upon her from beyond.

“Young love, eh, Rafe?” She chuckled. “I hope those two have what you and I had, and I sure hope they have the chance to see each other through to the end. I do miss you, dearie.”

Granny Evelyn then put the picture back in the pocket over her heart, and she stood up from her chair, setting her tea on the little table beside it, pondering on what mischief she could possibly do now to bring you and Steb ever closer.

If you like this, please reblog too! Thank you for reading!

Read part II here >

#moonstrider writes #arcane steb #steb arcane #steb #arcane x reader #steb x reader #arcane x you #arcane #arcane fic #arcane fanfic #arcane fanfiction #arcane steb x reader

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infamous-light · 24 hours ago

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Their Eyes, Your Chains

Yandere Agatha & Rio Headcanons

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Their Eyes, Your Chains

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Possessive/obsessive behavior, yandere, manipulation, threats, stalking, jealousy

| Agatha

Agatha first discovered you on the outskirts of Westview. The instant her eyes landed on you, something primal stirred deep within her – an insatiable hunger that she couldn’t quite place. You looked so fragile, so misplaced in a world that would sooner consume you than offer kindness. At that moment, she knew she had to have you. You were perfect.

To ensure your safety – and her claim on you – Agatha placed a magical sigil on you, visible only to her. It would flare up if you strayed too far from her or if someone with ill intent approached you. You were hers and she would not tolerate anyone or anything that dared to threaten that bond.

Agatha controlled every aspect of your life – where you went, who you spoke to, and how long you stayed away from her. She masked her actions as “protection,” but the truth was clear: her obsessive need to keep you close drove her every move.

She was territorial. To Agatha, you belonged to her, and she allowed no one else to get too close to you.

Despite her possessive nature, Agatha showered you with attention, gifts, and affection, but her love still felt suffocating.

When you pushed back against her control, she alternated between cold fury and honeyed words, making you feel guilty for wanting freedom. “You don’t understand, darling. I do this because I love you. No one else will protect you the way I can.”

If you ever did manage to leave her, Agatha would go to terrifying lengths to bring you back. She would track you across the ends of the earth, twisting reality itself to prevent your escape. She might even cast a powerful spell to trap you in a dreamlike illusion, where you were blissfully happy and unaware of her manipulations, ensuring you would never wish to leave her side again.

Agatha’s most severe threat was to bind you to her permanently with a soul-link spell, tethering your life force to hers so escape would be impossible. “You are mine.” Yet, unbeknownst to you, she had already decided to cast it the moment she met you.

She frequently called you terms of endearment like “darling,” “my love,” or “pet.”

Agatha wanted you, and she would stop at nothing to ensure that you were entirely, irrevocably hers.

| Rio

As the personification of death, Rio saw you as someone destined to be hers. All living things would inevitably belong to her in the end, but she didn’t want to wait for that – she wanted you now and forever. Her obsession with you felt timeless, as if it had always existed, lying dormant until the moment it could finally flourish.

Rio preyed on your fear of mortality to keep you dependent on her, constantly reminding you how fleeting your life was and how frail you were compared to her eternal nature. “They’ll all leave you eventually. But me? I’ll always be here. Isn’t that what you want – someone who’ll always be here for you?” Her words burrowed into your mind, twisting your emotions until you could no longer tell if remaining by her side was truly your choice or hers.

When she was in a particularly indulgent mood, Rio could be achingly sweet with you, though her sweetness was always laced with a dangerous possessiveness. She would hold you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, her hands cold but her touch inexplicably soothing. Yet in the same breath, she would whisper unsettling things like, “You're mine, sweetheart... forever and always. No one else can ever have you.”

Rio doesn’t tolerate anyone getting too close to you. She was convinced that she alone was worthy of being by your side. After all, she was inevitable, eternal – the one destined to claim your soul in the end.

If she perceived anyone as a threat to her claim over you, they had simply disappeared. When you confronted her about it, Rio’s dark eyes narrowed, and her voice carried a chilling warning: “I don’t like sharing. Do I need to remind you what happens when people overstep?”

If you dared to defy her, Rio would turn volatile. She would threaten to bring death to those you love or cause harm to innocent people, showing you the lengths she would go to keep you bound to her. She would make you feel like you were the one in the wrong, insisting that only you could “end her loneliness” or that no one else could ever understand her the way you do.

In extreme circumstances, Rio would remind you in a low, bone-chilling voice that no mortal can escape death – and by extension, her.

No matter how far you fled, no matter how cleverly you tried to hide, Rio would always find you.

She didn’t just crave your love – it was deeper, darker than that. Rio demanded every piece of you, body and soul.

To her, you were the flickering light in an eternal void. You were her meaning, her obsession, her undoing.

| Agatha & Rio

God help you.

Agatha and Rio had both claimed you as their own. Neither of them could imagine a reality where you belonged to anyone but them, and each had made it clear that you were theirs and theirs alone. “You belong to me, just as you belong to her.” They would whisper, almost in sync.

Agatha’s possessiveness was passionate and fiery. She would often press herself against you, her hands grazing your arms or waist to remind you of her presence. Rio, on the other hand, had a more subtle approach – she would lean in close, her breath warm against your ear as she murmured soft, possessory words or let her fingers lightly trace the back of your neck.

Both Agatha and Rio were quick to notice any tiny change in your behavior. If you were quieter than usual, Agatha’s gaze sharpened, and she would press you for answers, “What’s wrong? Tell me.” Rio, however, will casually drape an arm around your shoulder, murmuring, “Who upset you? Just say the word.” Neither will rest until they know what’s troubling you and how to make it right.

Together, Agatha and Rio were a constant reminder that no matter where you go or what you do, you belonged to them and they’ll ensure that it stayed that way, forever.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness #agatha all along #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal #rio vidal x you #agathario #agatha x rio #agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader #agatha all along fanfic #marvel

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respectthepetty · 2 days ago

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Spare Me Your Mercy Thoughts

I have waited almost four years for this show since MDL made a placeholder for Euthanasia in early-2021, and now that it is here, I'm going to gush about all the ways I love it!

Just like a few of Dr. Sammon's other shows airing around the holidays (Manner of Death, Dead Friend Forever, and Petrichor), I'm thankful I got the first episode of Spare Me Your Mercy on Thanksgiving and the last will come on Christmas because this is the exact show I need for the holiday season since it began the entire series with Tew, the cop, having to perform euthanasia on an animal.

I grew up and still live in a rural area where cattle far outnumber the actual folks, so I fully understand euthanasia is a good death as the word implies, so I will not be struggling through the premise of this show, and I have faith the show won't either because when Tew fired the gun, the scene was peaceful.

And the show is making some pointed remarks about how things operate outside of bigger cities since Kan specifically mentioned he has about 2,500 patients. When the other officer asked the nurses if Kan had a long queue, they didn't even respond. Kan also clarified that his specialty is palliative care, so he has to monitor a wide range of long-term illnesses, so even though Tew might actually be from this place, he is now the outsider and out of his depth before he even started.

Sidenote: I cannot be mad at a nurse, even if one of them turns out bad because the way they all protect Kan from the police is the teamwork I love to see.

The red light to notify the office the doctor is seeing a patient coming on right after Kan responded to the nurse that it wasn't a murder case yet was perfection.

I already knew Kan was going to be my favorite character, but Tor is doing amazing showing the layers Kan has, as expected. Kan tells Tor he can cry and shows him kindness, but when pushed, Kan makes small digs about how people should spend the last moments of someone's life cherishing them when rudely questioned by Tew regarding the unexpected deaths knowing Tew did not get to see his mother before she died. He also made a subtle display of knowing where things were located in the house because he is in control.

The way he slid his LINE information into the conversation AFTER indirectly telling Tew he was being emotional due to his grief is why I'm excited to see another version of Manner of Death's Tan. Kan probably does like Tew but he stays focused and calculated.

He is terrifying without there being any concrete detail to pinpoint on why he is scary. Som, while describing people being possessed by evil murderous spirits, was terrified of Kan, and the transition from Som telling his story to Kan appearing at the exact moment Som was going to state what human form the evil spirits take was brilliant.

But what's even more terrifying is the treatment of the terminally ill. They are viewed as a burden, locked away, and isolated.

And Tew witnessed it. He got a glimpse of what Kan sees daily, so the show is already building up a case in defense of Kan's actions. If he is performing euthanasia, Tew could understand. He heard the goat's bell. He knew it was still alive, but he decided to end its suffering, cleanly and swiftly, which is what euthanasia is. He saw that man left behind by his family and even moved to go get him. And he was bothered when the man's daughter stated her reasoning for leaving him out there alone.

He also stopped Kan from continuing to question Som. Therefore, the true conflict has been set. Tew, whose job is to discover the truth, doesn't need it if it causes pain, but Kan's entire job is making pain manageable.

And I always want to trust a woman, but as suspicious as the director is being about everything, babygirl would be the perfect person to attempt euthanasia since the dead would end up on her table where she could claim the death was the result of the illness.

Because euthanasia is a good death.

And this ain't it.

He understands that.

But someone doesn't.

#spare me your mercy #episode one #let me go make some food #and be thankful that Dr. Sammon continues to bless us with ethical dilemmas

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revelboo · 1 day ago

Text

True Romance Pt 6

Seeker Trine x Reader

• “I found something,” Skywarp says as he comes in the door and Starscream has to grab you when you try to throw yourself off of where you’d been sprawled on him in an attempt to get as far away as possible. Not that your alarm isn’t wholly unwarranted. Skywarp’s last ‘surprise’ had turned out to be a live possum. Which contrary to what Skywarp had assumed, you hadn’t found pleasing at all. Apparently furry doesn’t equate to cute. Pinning you to his chassis, he sits up.

• “What did you do?” Starscream growls, sucking all the fun out of the room. It was one mistake. In Thundercracker’s stupid movies, humans like furry animals. How was he supposed to know it was only certain animals? Choosing to ignore the question to annoy Star, he moves closer and offers you his closed hands. And if you cringe harder into Star, he ignores that, too. Knows you’ll like this gift better.

• Studying Skywarp’s face, you recognize that stubborn smirk. Whatever he has, he’s not giving up until you take it. Growling, Starscream tries to push his hands away and your shoulders hunch. He can’t have found something worse than the possum. You really need to believe that as you reluctantly lean out and Starscream vents and holds you out so you can play pick a hand with Skywarp. Brow furrowing as you look from one hand to the other. Could be food. Could also be a handful of venomous snakes. Stretching out an arm, you slap his right hand.

• Stiffening as Skywarp flops his hand up and opens it, Starscream isn’t sure what to expect. The fistful of sparkly things is a surprise. Like the way you immediately reach for them, nearly tumbling out of his hand. “Coverings?” He asks as Skywarp dumps them in his hands with you and you start pawing through them. Reds, blues, and purples, the things are slinky and insubstantial looking, but it’s the colors that snag him. There’s three different garments, one in each of their colors. When he looks at Skywarp, his brother just shrugs looking almost embarrassed.

• You’re almost positive these might be prom dresses, they’re so glittery and over the top. And you really don’t want to know where he stole them from. Because he’d seen them and thought of you and it leaves you feeling warm. Going up on your knees in Starscream’s hand, you gesture for Skywarp to lean down. Not even bothered when he makes a show of huffing at you even as he obeys. Before you can second guess yourself, you lay your palms on his chin and lean to give him a quick thank you kiss. Almost missing the way Starscream’s expression stiffens.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #idw starscream #skywarp x reader #idw skywarp #thundercracker x reader #idw thundercracker #transformers seekers

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sagesturns · 2 days ago

Text

Maybe In Another Life

Summary: One night, you call Chris, drunk and missing him. The two of you talk, and he softly admits that sometimes love just fades, no matter how hard you try to hold on. In a quiet, painful moment, he says goodbye, leaving you with nothing but the echo of what once was.

contains: angst, weed, alcohol

One night, while you were both watching the stars, Chris noticed a moth circling a light. He said, “You’re like a moth. You’re drawn to the things you love, even if it means flying through darkness. But you always find your way back.”

The thing about you and Chris was that it always felt perfect. You were a team. A unit. Everything about the way you two fit together felt so natural, so easy. You'd talk for hours, finish each other's sentences, share stupid jokes that no one else understood. When he kissed you, it was like time stopped.

When he held you, everything felt right in the world. You were convinced it would never end.In the beginning, you never questioned it. It was just you and him, navigating the world together. This was destined to be eternal. You once had that kind of love; the kind that everyone trumpets about yet hardly understands until they live it. And at some point when you think about the future, there is no denying that he was included in it.

But somewhere along the way, you started noticing the little cracks. The things that used to matter to him—to both of you—no longer seemed to spark joy. The way he looked at you started to change. But that warmth of his touch would now be replaced by distance. And no matter how hard the effort was to bridge that distance, it only seemed to get wide…

It wasn't just like that; rather, it was a long, slow, painful awareness. He’d become distant. There were late nights, missed texts, and a growing silence between you two. But you refused to believe it. You fought it. You told yourself it was just a phase. You tried harder to make it work, to keep things the same, but he kept pulling away. The breakup came unexpectedly.

One night, when you were sitting together, trying to make sense of everything, he said the words you dreaded to hear.

“I think we should break up.”The words became the ceiling of the room, and it looked like the room started to spin You could not catch your breath. You could not move. You wanted to do something, anything—say something, do something—to make it stop. But in the end, only the silence remained. He left and you had only the whispers of the love you had thought to be never fading in return.

It was a few months later, but a dull ache remained. And it was tonight, sitting in your room by yourself, that the heaviness of it all felt more unbearable than it ever had. You’d been out with friends earlier, did what you could to distract yourself, and now you were alone. With the fog that accompanies both drunkenness and a high, you retrieved your phone seeking a escape of relief.

You scrolled mindlessly through your contacts. And your finger hovered over his name—Chris—and for a second, you paused. He hadn’t been in your life for a long time, but the idea of him acted like a magnet, a force you felt powerless against. You didn’t even think about it, just tapped his name and called. The phone rang and rang and rang until finally it was his voice on the other end, familiar and distant.

“Hello?”For a second, you didn’t know what to say. You hadn’t expected him to answer. But there he was, sounding so… normal. So far away.

“Heyyy, Chris,” you said, your voice slurring slightly. “It’s me…” He didn’t speak right away. You could practically hear the confusion in his silence. “Uh, hey. What’s going on?”

You let out a shaky laugh, trying to make it sound like everything was fine. “I’m… drunk and high,” you slurred, a small chuckle escaping your lips. “Just… missed you, you know?” “Oh… uh, okay,” Chris said, his voice quiet, trying to make sense of the situation. But there was a certain softness in his tone now. “Yeah, I figured you were… a little out of it.”

You closed your eyes, letting your head rest against the wall. You fell silent, and there was an expectant pause, which you broke with a quieter voice: “I miss you,” you said, the words spilling out ungracefully. “I miss us… I miss how we were. Why did it have to happen, Chris?”

On the other end, there was this long silence and one could almost hear him fitting together the pieces. "I don't know," he said softly. “It’s been a minute now… a year, at least.” His voice was even, but there was an inescapable sadness. A year. A whole year. It was as if it had happened the day before. How do so many years pass and you remain, its lingering echo? The memory of you two. “I just…” The weight of it all seemed to hit you all at once. “I thought that was forever, you know? We had everything. I thought we had it all.” Your voice had a small crack as you talked. "I can't figure out where I messed up." "I don't think it's about pinpointing a mistake," Chris said speaking but with confidence. "Sometimes things just… lose their spark. You can't cling to something that's no longer there even if you try your hardest. I… I believe that's what happened" You took a deep unsteady breath. "I still can't wrap my head around it" I thought we were happy. Was it just me? Did I mess up?"

“No,” he answered quickly. “It wasn’t you. But sometimes… sometimes things change. People change. And it’s not anyone’s fault.” His voice dropped slightly. “It just is.” You swallowed hard, the tears threatening to spill again. It hurt more than you thought it would. “I hate it. I hate that we’re like this. I hate that I lost you.” Chris didn’t say anything for a moment, and you could feel the space between you growing, more distant with every passing second. And then, quietly, almost like an afterthought, he said, “It’s just the high talking, you know? It’s the drunk talking.” “I know,” you whispered, wiping at your eyes. But the sadness was still there. The hole inside you was still there.

There was another long pause before Chris sighed softly, a deep, almost mournful sound. “Maybe in another life, huh?” You froze at his words. The weight of them felt like a stone sinking to the bottom of your chest. “Maybe in another life?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Maybe.”

The tears finally fell, but you tried to keep them in check, your breath hitching. "Why not this one?" you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Chris’s response was soft, final. “Bye, Moth.”

The call ended , and in an instant, the chat came to a close. You remained seated clutching your phone, your eyes fixed on the display as if you thought he might ring again. But the call never came. Of course, he wouldn’t. And of course he calls me my nickname… because that’s all I am now. Just a memory.

word count: 1.3k

tags: @sweetshuga @m00nl1ghts1vt

a/n: so basicallyyyy this something that happened with me..not the exact situation but smth like thatt so i decided to make it a short lil something! i wrote this half asleep, pls bare w me. anyways love you all soso much.

@sagesturns

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auroracalisto · 15 hours ago

Note

Hey can you do a fiyero x reader where the reader is afraid of being vulnerable and he helps them?

yes, superfartninja, i think i can.

to be changed.

movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 3.4k words summary: to be vulnerable meant to be defenseless. it was a liability and that's all it ever would be. fiyero couldn't have that, now could he? a/n: please remember that i only have movie knowledge, so this will be based solely on what i saw in the movie. :P also, shout outs to house song by searows (was on repeat for this fic). erm. this kind of got away from me. i started it was 12 AM and now it's nearly 2 AM. hope it's coherent.

It wasn't like you to be vulnerable. It just didn't happen. It was like... asking a fish or an elephant to climb a tree, or some other weird analogy that you heard oh-so-long ago, when vulnerability aged you more than it helped.

To be vulnerable meant to be hurt. To be ridiculed, to be laughed at, to be made a fool in front of anyone who cared to look your way. It was something that you knew was not needed. You would be fine living by yourself. You came into this world alone and screaming, and you would leave this world the same way.

If you cut out the wound before it began to fester, you solved the problem immediately. Or so they say.

So that's what you did, long ago, when you swore to yourself that the pain you felt would be the very last time. It would never happen again. It couldn't happen again.

Oh, Oz, it couldn't. Your heart couldn't take it.

What was left of your heart, anyway. Sometimes you feared you no longer had one, especially when you feared the pain that would haunt you if someone else came along and made you feel that way again.

It's not that you were afraid. No, fear of being vulnerable was foolish. At least... you believed that you weren't afraid of being vulnerable.

Perhaps that was an act of foolishness in itself. Pretending that you weren't afraid. Pretending that having few friends and few moments of happiness didn't pierce your heart with every passing second.

Perhaps you needed to be better. To be vulnerable, to swear off that silly promise you made to yourself so many years ago.

But it was so difficult.

Being vulnerable was to be in pain. To be lost to a world of sorrow. To be... hurt by the very thing you swore you'd never be hurt by again.

It wouldn't happen.

You wouldn't let it.

He existed in the back of your mind. His beautiful blue eyes, the way those pretty locks fell in front of his eyes when he actually studied his books (if he ever did, of course).

When was the last time he actually tried...? No. You couldn't think of him like that. Too much thinking about his pretty face would ruin you.

You had only talked to him a few times here and there, and the first time was to merely ask him to move out of the way. He took up quite a lot of space—or at least, maybe it was his confidence. It oozed from him like an air of upmost superiority.

No...

You were just being cruel. He was just standing in the way, out of breath from singing to Galinda in the library (because of course—who didn't sing to pretty girls in libraries anymore?).

The second time you spoke to him was over the essay you had to write in your literature class. Peer reviews were the bane of your existence, and this essay, because of course it did, had a simple prompt in response to one of your readings: Taking into account the author's sheer disdain for the idea of magic, write what you believe Oz would be like without magic.

Thought-provoking, yes. You wrote a decent two pages, handwritten of course.

He gave you a paragraph.

If the world of Oz existed without magic, perhaps we would all be better off. No more bickering over the usages of it all, no more idiosyncrasies, no more debates on whether you are intelligent or mediocre if you hadn't the ability to wave a wand or utter a simple spell. If we didn't have magic, perhaps life would be far more difficult, but I also feel as if we should see what it would be like. Maybe there would be less heartbreak. More happiness to go around.

Okay. A piss-poor paragraph that made you wonder how he was even passing Madame Lillabet's literature class.

Maybe he wasn't.

You didn't feel pity for the man—nobility had the ability to do so many things that you would only ever dream of. Why should you feel pity—vulnerability—for a man you didn't know, let alone understood?

Oz, even now, his essay haunted you. You did your best with your review, pointing out the obvious things missing—a decent thesis, body paragraphs that proved his thesis, and just in general, an entire essay that was expected of the entire class.

He merely read over your essay and made one simple comment: Excellent.

Oh, yes, excellent. It was excellent to know that he was just trying to help your essay, yes? Leaving that little comment, even though you didn't make full marks—how was it supposed to help you?

Pity be damned. He was a fool, through and through.

Things muddled in your mind like they often did. Thoughts racing, heartbeat close behind the quick pace.

If you had magic, you'd be sure to quell it.

These thoughts were the one thing that you wished you could squash under the heel of your boot. They were the bane of your existence, the utterance of a foolhardy penance to the god of whatever looked down upon you and wished for pain.

Perhaps that was what was meant for you.

A life of pain—of pity from others, of the amenability to be swayed by those around you even when you tried, desperately, to stay away from those who may catch your attention.

Like him.

Oh, Oz, just like him.

Fiyero.

The man who'd lose his head if it wasn't attached to his shoulders. The man who once told you in passing that if he hadn't a brain, perhaps classes would be easier—then he wouldn't truly be all there, and he'd easily get around the... well, specifics of it all. The man whom you felt tugging at your heartstrings, even when you told yourself no.

It would not happen.

It could not happen.

You would not let it.

In typical, terrible luck fashion, you found yourself wandering the halls of Shiz late at night, unable to sleep. The thoughts racing through your head of so many things, not just him (although they kept leading back to the fool), they just weren't stopping.

An exam was to be held tomorrow. Perhaps you could create a distraction—keep the professors from being able to do as they needed. There were a box of fireworks hidden in one of the many corridor closets, kept for special occasion. You could whip a few of them out and create so much chaos that they'd surely have to cancel the exam!

You leaned against the railing, looking down at the stonework of Shiz's courtyard. A chill ran down your spine from the cold breeze, and for once, all was silent if only for a moment.

His voice brought you out from your thoughts.

"Y/n," he said, an obvious smile playing at his lips.

You squeezed your eyes shut and glanced back at him. Without saying a word, you acknowledged him.

"Doesn't look like your dorm," he continued. "What are you doing out here, all alone?"

"Thinking."

His eyebrow quirked. "Thinking? Oh," he softly hummed, coming to stand beside of you. "Well, that's no fun, now is it? What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

He snorted softly. "You're thinking about... nothing?"

"Whatever I'm thinking is none of your business," you retorted.

He stared you down for a moment, tilting his head curiously. He hummed again and looked out at where you had been staring moments prior.

"You are right," he softly said, voice much quieter this time. "Let me lead you back to your room. We have an exam tomorrow, remember? You at least need to pretend to sleep."

You paused. Since when did he care about exams? You glanced at him, fighting the urge to question him. You let out a soft sigh and shrugged, allowing him to lead you to your dorm.

The walk was quiet, and you almost questioned how he knew where your dorm was, but you didn't. He seemed to pay attention better than most (it was part of that aloofness, you've noticed), and it wasn't the first time he had seen you near your dorm.

It was at least the third. The number had to be easy to memorize by now. 133.

As you opened your door, Fiyero spoke. "You know, I've been thinking..."

"Dangerous thing for you, isn't it?" you quipped, not looking at him as you stepped inside.

He let out a soft chuckle. You amused him to no end.

"Yes, perhaps," he softly said. "But besides. I was still thinking. I've been... well, wondering if perhaps you would—"

"—no."

He blinked slowly. "What? No? Y/n, you didn't even hear what I had to say—"

"—the answer is still no," you said. You glanced up at him from the spot you had been staring at, frowning. "I don't know what this is, but we are not friends. Do not ask me for favors."

"Not friends, hm?" he softly hummed, leaning against the doorway as he locked eyes with you. So knowing your dorm number was just a fluke.

"Not friends. Now if you'll excuse me, I should probably go and pretend to sleep."

His upper lip quirked in a faint smirk. Not friends, but you still joked with him as a friend would do. He rolled his eyes and gave you a rather joking half-bow.

"Of course," he said. "Do not let me keep you up. Perhaps I should find my dorm as well."

"You should do that," you simply said, shutting the door right after.

You didn't give him a chance to say anything else, quickly locking the door and heading back to your bed.

Heart pounding, mind still racing, but not with the thoughts of earlier. No, dear reader, your mind raced with thoughts of him.

So impressionable, so—so kind, so—well, was he really kind?

To you.

He was kind to you.

Nearly a week passed you by. The exam went rather well, without any kind of distraction. Passing marks and a somewhat decent night sleep.

You do everything you can to try and avoid Fiyero. Running this way and that, going through all of the longer corridors instead of the shortcuts you knew by heart. You did everything you could to avoid his handsome face.

You did everything you could to avoid the vulnerability that plagued your heart every time you thought of him.

If you simply embraced the wants of Fiyero, perhaps not having a brain would keep you from thinking this way. You'd still have a heart, sure, but it was much better than keeping yourself on your toes wondering if you'd see the damned man at any passing second.

On the hour of the rising moon, almost exactly on the dot, Fiyero spotted you. And this time, you were not evading him.

He practically took off after you, leaving his friends behind. They scoffed and called after him, but he didn't look back. His focus was on you.

He grabbed onto your wrist as you went to leave, not letting you go.

"Y/n! There you are," he softly said. "I have been looking everywhere for you. I wouldn't have thought it would be so difficult to find you, but—"

"—there you go, thinking again," you blurted, unable to stop yourself. Your tongue was wagging faster than your brain was working.

He weakly smiled. "Yes. I know. How ironic, hm?"

You watched as he stared you down.

"Look," he softly began. "I truly—I do not know what I did to deserve you ignoring me at any which way, but I wish you would tell me why. What did I do, Y/n? I thought—well, I assumed that we were friends, but perhaps I was wrong. I find myself wrong quite often nowadays."

"I—well, Fiyero, I—" you paused. You squeezed your eyes shut and inhaled a deep breath. "I don't have friends."

He blinked slowly. "You don't have friends? What of the one girl you were with the other day? Milla?"

"I do not have friends," you repeated. "I have... acquaintances. People I do not get attached to."

"That is sad."

"What?"

He raised an eyebrow. It seemed like a commonality when he spoke with you. The staple eyebrow raise had to happen or else he wasn't really chatting with you.

"It is sad. Why wouldn't you want to get attached to people?"

"I don't want to have meaningless relationships," you said. You avoided saying, I don't want to have relationships at all. "Not everyone can be as friendly as you, Fiyero."

He rolled his eyes. "Friendly. Yes. I talk to people, but I would rather not have all the attention that I do."

"Oh, that's rich," you said, scoffing. "You play the popular little prince and then claim you do not want it? What is that, Fiyero?"

Fiyero pursed his lips. "It is just—this is not a conversation about me. I wanted to have an intervention for you since you seemed as though you were avoiding me every which way. Now. Just—"

"—an intervention? What? Please. You sound ridiculous."

"So do you!" he returned, hands to his hips like an older man scolding a child for something they broke. "You vex me, Y/n! You act as if you are interested in me, then run away hiding like a scared little pup. You act as if you are afraid to get close to anyone."

You stared at him, lips parted ever-so-slightly. But it was enough. You were done for.

He let out a curt laugh. "You are."

"What?"

"You are. Scared. I can see it in you. You listen to what I have to say, even when the others don't. I've made an effort to pay attention to you. To see what you—"

"—Fiyero, stop."

"Do not tell me to stop, Y/n," he said, voice low with conviction. "Not now. Not when I've finally figured you out. You are scared. But of what? Being close to someone? Having a friend?"

You frowned. "I am not scared—"

"—you look at me like if I were to touch you, you'd melt."

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"I can see it in your eyes, Y/n," he said, not looking away. He held eye contact with you and hoped that you would continue to do the same. "You—you're scared. To open your heart to the people around you."

You frowned, again. It was perpetual anymore. "And you're a sad man who dances and pretends everything is fine because Galinda said you looked pretty one day."

He blinked slowly, a smile quirking on his lips. "Maybe. But this—this isn't about me, Y/n. This is about you."

"What even is this? I didn't agree to have you psychoanalyze everything I've ever done."

"Neither did I, yet here we are," he said. "I've had a lot of time to think, to mull it over, and I know it. I know it now. You are scared. I don't know what happened to you. I don't know who hurt you in your past, or if something tragic happened to make you so cold inside, but there is absolutely nothing wrong with being... with being vulnerable, Y/n. There's something... magical, even, about opening up to others."

"Oh, and you would know, wouldn't you?"

He frowned. "Y/n—"

"—no. Absolutely not. You do not get to sit there and ridicule me for not wanting to be close to people and then not take what I give you," you said. "You do not let anyone close to you. Sure, Galinda, but what does she know about you? Does she know how you half-ass everything? How you hardly even talk to your 'friends' and just let them float along with you like everything is fine and dandy? You're as sad as I am, if that's what you're trying to say. Don't try to fool yourself."

"I am not trying to fool myself," he softly said. "I am only trying to make it known that I see you. I see myself in you."

"Oh, that's rich," you said, scoffing. "The rich, popular boy sees himself in little ol' me. That's perfect."

"Y/n—"

"—no. Don't. Stop. Just. I don't want to talk to you anymore. We're not friends. We never were friends. Just leave me alone."

It's simple, but it shuts him down. And with that, you run from his side, rushing to hide away in your dorm.

You couldn't believe what you did. Blowing up at him instead of listening to what he had to say. He read you like the children's book your heart truly was—while everyone else focused on the words, he focused on the pictures. The minute details that seemed to pass by everyone's mind because the story was flowing far too quickly.

He saw the delicate brush strokes, the intricate colors, the pieces of you that the words did not show.

He knew you.

And it scared you.

Only you knew yourself. If anyone else were to know who you were, deep inside, well, that would be disastrous.

It couldn't happen.

You couldn't let it.

Fear.

Perhaps fear was the best way to describe the way you felt.

You sat by the edge of the lake in the forest just beyond Shiz's campus, fingers gently brushing against the water. The surface rippled, sending small waves to the end of the shore.

You were afraid.

Of what?

Of a man knowing you?

Of Fiyero knowing you better than even your family once knew you?

You sat there, thoughts racing through your mind. It was as if you couldn't avoid them anymore.

Days had passed since you blew up at Fiyero and ran. You couldn't avoid him forever, you knew that, but it seemed as if your thoughts believed the same.

Tears pricked at your eyes. The warm, salty tears began to fall before you could even try to stop them, and a soft sob bubbled at the back of your throat.

"Y/n?"

Shit.

You quickly wiped your tears away and looked back at him—at Fiyero. But your tears wouldn't stop. A soft sob rippled through you and you turned your head away.

Fiyero came to your side, kneeling down in the soft earth beside of you. He inwardly grimaced at the dirt, but he said nothing of it. He'd bathe in mud if it meant you would stop your tears.

He reached forward, gently placing a hand to your cheek. He turned your head to face him.

"Y/n," he softly said. "It's alright. You... you're alright."

Another sob.

He pulled you into his arms, and you let him. You didn't pull away, melting into his embrace as he said you would before. He pressed his chin to the top of your head, situating himself so he would be more comfortable near you.

He softly hummed a soft tune—you remembered it. The one thing he hummed quite often when you caught him alone, or trying to focus on his school work.

Dancing through life, skimming the surface... Life's more painless for the brainless.

He was just a sad boy with needs of his own, much like you were scared of being seen. Of being known.

Of being loved.

Oh. Oh, that's what it was.

It terrified you to no end.

Fiyero pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands.

"What's got you so upset, love?" he softly asked, wiping your tears away gently with his thumbs.

You shook your head. "I... later," you mumbled. You leaned into his grasp, and you could have sworn you saw his eyes soften.

He released a soft, shaky sigh of his own, before he pulled you back into his arms. He'd hold you until the end of the world if that's what you needed him to do.

Being vulnerable—it was the one thing you had told yourself you would never do. Ever again. And here you were, letting this man hold you and practically lull you into a calmness you'd never felt before.

Is this what it felt like? To be... weak? To be... frail?

No.

Vulnerability... it didn't mean that.

It meant that you were... open. That you had managed to open your heart to a more... malleable form.

To be changed.

To find the one thing in life that you knew would keep you going for as long as it could.

To be vulnerable meant to be loved.

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