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#find your way (back to me) chapter 14
macfrog · 1 year
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cowboy like me | masterlist
dbf!joel miller x f!reader | ao3 | playlist
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back home in austin after five years away, you're looking for something to do with your summer. what you don't expect, is to find that something in the form of joel miller. quietly charming, ruggedly handsome, flannel-donned joel. you know. your dad's best friend.
please check out individual chapter content warnings before reading!!! this series features adult content.
series warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, alcohol + dr*g use, mentions of pregnancy & periods, physical violence, allusions to cheating, smut, angst, fluff, softdom!joel mostly (some jealous/protective/possessive!joel along the way).
main series
chapter 1: greetings from austin, tx
chapter 2: shameless
chapter 3: grilled
chapter 4: moneyball
chapter 5: welcome home
chapter 6: company
chapter 7: bloodstream
chapter 8: lend me some sugar
chapter 9: checkmate
chapter 10: ride it, cowgirl
chapter 11: illicit affairs
chapter 12: hits different
chapter 12.5: if i had a gun
chapter 13: heart, body, soul
chapter 14: secrets
chapter 15: the sweetest con
bonus
➵ if patrick bateman were a woman
drabbles
➵ dragging joel to the eras tour ➵ sex tape [prelude to chapter 11] ➵ books joel would be into ➵ slow dancing in the kitchen ➵ joel versus a nightmare
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oceandolores · 1 month
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | masterlist!
Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader
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"God loves you but not enough to save you,"
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summary: In the small town near Austin, Texas, you are trapped in a life of rigid expectations and silent suffering. As the preacher's daughter, you endure the mental and physical abuse of your father while your mother, bound by obedience, offers quiet love. Your longing for a father's warmth finds an unexpected solace in Joel Miller, your father's best friend and neighbor. In Joel's presence, you discover a forbidden sanctuary, where your yearning heart is met with a gentle strength you've never known.
warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.
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𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡
❝ to my love, Joel.
,...found you just to tell you that I made it real far, i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did.
while you were torn apart, i would still wait with you there.
don't think about it too hard, honey. or you'll never sleep a wink at night again.
and don't worry about me and these green eyes,
baby, just know that i love you. and i'll see you when you get here.
i love you forever, Joel... ❞
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THE PLAYLIST! (on spotify)👰🏼‍♀️
the preacher's daughter ▪️ dbf! joel miller
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MASTERLIST!🐇
Chapter 1: "But I always knew in the end, no one was coming to save me,"
Chapter 2: "Because that's how my daddy raised me,"
Chapter 3: "I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue"
Chapter 4: "He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro reds,"
Chapter 5: "Because for the first time since I was a child, I could see a man who wasn't angry,"
Chapter 6: "Let him make a woman out of me,"
Chapter 7: "You wanna fuck me right now?"
Chapter 8: "The fates already fucked me sideways,"
Chapter 9: "Christ, forgive these bones I'm hiding,"
Chapter 10: "and that's why I could never go back home,"
Chapter 11: "I don't care where as long as you're with me,"
Chapter 12: "If it's meant to be, then it will be."
Chapter 13: SOON
Chapter 14: SOON
Chapter 15: SOON
Chapter 16: SOON
Chapter 17: SOON
Chapter 18: SOON
Chapter 19: SOON
Chapter 20: ENDING
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read it on wattpad!
the preacher's daughter by babyvenoms
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ENJOY! and if you guys have any like visuals to this, or art that you made for this I would love to put it here, just let me know! thank you!! 🩵
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godmadeaterribleerror · 2 months
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No Love Lost Series Masterlist
Series Summary
Three years ago you were normal, the only demons you had to fight were your own, and you the most you knew of Vought and the Boys were what you saw on TV. But then you met Homelander at a stupid party, and woke up the next morning in a cell.
After almost two and a half years of you being Homelander's little project, Soldier Boy was woken up only go rouge and be put back under. Somewhere in there, you escaped. And before Queen Maeve went underground, she told William Butcher about the Anomaly, a powerful supe who recently escaped Vought captivity and may have an agenda against Homelander.
One month later, the Boys found you.
You spend the next five months helping them best you can, though your control over your powers is weak and your fear of Homelander makes you useless in combat. But you get an idea. A stupid, dangerous idea that turns you into Soldier Boy's keeper, giving him a second chance to take down Homelander, you hanging over his shoulder, a threat should he want to go nuclear again. It's exhausting and frustrating, and you might kill him and yourself as soon as this is over, but you said whatever it takes.
And this is what it takes.
Author's Note
This story is non-canon compliant, with the two main differences being;
1) Butcher doesn't have brain cancer, because I said so.
2) All of Gen V didn't take place, because I don't want to deal with the whole supe-plauge thing. Also that's too many characters to keep track of squad.
Because of this, the story will start in a similar setting as s4e5, but with different events leading up to it, and will deal with similar themes and have similar events to the rest of s4, but at an inconsistent rate. If you have any questions about other, smaller changes I have made, feel free to ask!
Rating/Warnings: 18+ for canon-typical violence, swearing, mental health issues, mentions of rape/non-con, and sexual content.
Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, eventual smut, angst, fluff.
Read on A03!
Chapter List
Chapter 1 - Where Winning Looks Like Losing
Chapter 2 - A New Kind of Tension
Chapter 3 - You've Torn Your Dress
Chapter 4 - You Might Be The Same As Me
Chapter 5 - Popped, Cool, and Ready to Go
Chapter 6 - I've Been Searching for a Fortified Defense
Chapter 7 - The Blinding Ultra-Violence
Chapter 8 - I Just Find My Way Back
Chapter 9 - Can't Cover It Up
Chapter 10 - Lead Me To The Ark
Chapter 11 - The Wolves or The Ocean Rocks
Chapter 12 - While My Blood's Still Flowing
Chapter 13 - The Terror of Knowing
Chapter 14 - Choke on Sun
Chapter 15 - I Found A Martyr
Chapter 16 - Let It Flood
Chapter 17 - Make My Chest Stir
Bonus Footage (One-Shots)
As Much As I Do - Request! Ben finds Sunshine dancing, is immediately very normal about it. Takes place after Chapter 14 and around Chapter 15.
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fangswbenefits · 7 months
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The Arrangement (14) - Trance
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Chapter summary: Astarion wishes he coukd freeze this moment in time, but fate has a way of interfering.
Pairing: Astation x female!Tav
Warnings: Astarion's POV. Mentions of trauma.
Word count: 2.6k
Series Masterlist . Ao3
Vampirism had warped his bodily need to trance. 
The tadpole had meddled with it even further and he barely found the need for it all, but there was some semblance. Now, it was back to what it used to be.
He had no actual need for it, but he had come to realise it was the only way to be with you without facing the prison his mind had become. It allowed him to bypass how it held back his body.
In his trance-induced dreams, he was finally free.
Whatever freedom meant to him, he was sure you were involved somehow.
Even if only bound to a dream and nothing more. 
After all, you had made it perfectly clear that a friendship was all you could offer.
He had made peace with that.
For the most part.
He still had these moments of wanting to slip into his subconscious and lose himself in you.
The mattress underneath his body was comfortable enough and the raindrops outside that thumped against the window, presented themselves as more than enough to lull him into the beginnings of a trance.
He let go of his weight.
He blacked out everything around him in the hopes he'd find you.
Your chirpy laughter was what he heard first. Unknowingly, a faint smile tugged gently at his lips. He could easily get lost in the warmth of your voice.
He was getting deep enough that your voice now had a corporeal form, too.
Your kind face took over each corner of his mind until all of him was you.
Astarion could barely withstand trancing unless he could conjure you this way.
You were the calm in a restless sea that kept on drowning him.
In his mind, he could find himself being with you with nothing holding him back.
It was freeing and soothing.
It was an illusion, and in the back of his head, he almost felt it slip away as awareness threatened to overtake. 
He frowned.
Your voice faded and your pleasant face held a grave expression. It was as if you could tell something was wrong.
And you'd be right.
There was something wrong with his trance.
As frustration began to dissolve the image of you, he let out a low growl of annoyance as his eyes snapped open.
And he immediately understood why it felt off.
Ava was standing near the edge of his bed, holding a sweet smile that he had grown to appreciate over the past few weeks.
“You were reaching for her again, weren't you?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It's the only way I can these days.”
She lowered herself to sit, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. “You know that isn't true.”
“Ava, I don't wish to be lectured,” he said, more harshly than intended.
She nodded and said nothing else.
There was nothing more to be said. She had tried to make him see that he was the only one standing in between himself and you. 
He had heard it all before and he was sick of it.
It wasn't as easy as snapping his fingers, because a large part of him didn't want your friendship.
He could find friends. In fact, he didn't even know if he needed friends. 
Your friendship wasn't enough, but he had no right to demand more when he was struggling this hard with his mind.
Could he even offer more? Did he even deserve more?
“Do you wish me to leave?” Ava's voice snapped him from his thoughts. “I can, but maybe a piece of advice is in order.”
His frown eased and he nodded. 
“I would urge you to stop seeking her in your mind. She's out there. You two have been seeing each other to honour your arrangement.” She paused briefly, studying his reaction. “I can lay here with you and help with your intimacy, but I'm not the one you seek.”
Silence.
“The chance you seek is within you and I believe she can help in more ways than one.”
He scoffed. “I can't ask that of her. This is not something she has to concern herself with.”
Ava leaned against the headboard with a sigh. “Lovers help each other through the toughest of times.”
The word ignited a visceral reaction inside him at once.
“We're not lovers!”
Ava didn't even flinch at his snarl. “But you could be.”
Ava was terribly skilled at worming her way under his skin. He didn't regret having gotten closer to her even if merely as an exchange of sorts.
“Leave.”
The word spilled from his lips like poison and he knew he wasn't being fair, but he couldn't stand talking about you.
Not with her.
You would be utterly disappointed that he was giving out his blood like this.
He was beginning to dread any talks of you with her.
Mostly because Ava didn't know you and no string of words he might voice would ever do you justice.
You had saved him from himself. You had trusted him when no one else would. You had been his first and he had been yours. 
How could he possibly put into words how much you meant to him? 
“Astarion, jus-”
He had made up his mind. “Leave. I don't need love advice from anyone – least of all you.”
It was harsh. 
And it was enough to cause her eyes to widen in unmistakable displeasure. 
“That was uncalled for.”
She rose to her feet and walked out of the room without sparing another glance in his direction, the door closing loudly behind her.
In a way, he was thankful she didn't. He knew he'd find hurt in her face and he could do without the reminder of how snarky he could be.
For all intents and purposes, Ava had been the sole constant in his life and he might even consider her a… friend.
He had made some progress along the way.
Touching you as he fed didn't feel suffocating. He could even bear your touch as you held on to him for support.
He would need to feed soon.
Your blood was more filling than anything he could hunt out there, but the set schedule wasn't enough.
He pushed himself to sit, face buried in his hands.
You were already giving him more than he could ever repay. Again.
But he still found in himself the unshakable desire for more.
More. More. More.
This was the nature of his bond with you.
No in-betweens. No half measures.
With you, it was all or nothing.
And his vampiric nature always found ways to creep into his mind. 
Blood.
“Astarion?”
He was rooted to the garden bench, your eyes on him.
Shaking his head, he cleared his throat. “Yes?”
Uncertainty covered your face and he immediately realised you feared he had spaced out too far for her reach.
“Oh, I apologise, dear,” he said, putting on his best mask. “I suppose I wasn't expecting this revelation.”
But even such a practised facade was no longer enough to keep you convinced.
You knew him too well.
Slowly, you came to sit by his side again. “I'm sorry, Astarion.”
That immediately gnawed at his nerves. “Whatever for?”
“I know you were fond of Ava, and it's never easy to realise that someone we might have placed our trust in once can be capable of such things.”
Your logic wasn't flawed per se, but it didn't quite cover what he was now feeling.
“You think I'm upset because I care for her?”
“You don't?”
He tensed up. “My relationship with her felt necessary. It was built out of mutual need.”
At this, your features hardened. “Like ours when we first met?”
“It could never be like ours.”
He tried his best to hide the offence he had taken from your words, but, once again, you were able to read right through him.
“Didn't you see her as a friend?”
Quite frankly… “No.”
“Then why do you seem so shaken?”
Astarion should have known better than to give in to his impulsiveness, as it rarely did him any favours.
Yet…
“Why? Why do you think?” he said through gritted teeth. “I feel ashamed! More so because it was my recklessness that could have potentially been the cause of all of this.” 
You looked alarmed, but took your time to word out an answer. “Astarion, you couldn't have known. If this is actually true, then she played you.”
He scoffed, avoiding your piercing eyes. “Ironic, isn't it? I used to be so good at reading people and…” His voice faltered momentarily. “... and now I realise how much of a fool I am.”
Your hand met his cheek and you slowly turned his head until your eyes found his again. “You're not a fool for trusting people. You didn’t trust me at first, remember? It was all about survival.”
Astarion was sure that if his heart still pulsed, it would have shattered.
“I trusted you and you trusted me.”
He fought the urge to roll his eyes. “You are far too trusting.”
You smiled warmly and his defences immediately crumbled. “And you hardly trust anyone. Still, we met halfway, didn't we? Through pain and blood and gore and with all the odds against us, we found a way.”
Astarion realised for the nth time in that moment that he adored you.
He didn't think he had it in him to break the flow of this moment and say it out loud, but he did.
Trust was never on the table with him. He had built his undeath around using and abusing the trust others placed on him, only to bring them to their demise. Therefore, he never expected the same grace to be extended to him. He was unworthy, wasn't he?
Until you came along and shifted his world on its axis, showing him that there was still good out there reserved even for those deemed monsters.
Your hand dropped from his face, but your caring smile only deepened.
“I will not think any less of you if my suspicions are confirmed.”
It would be so easy to just accept your words, but he still hesitated. “Maybe you should. I roped you and others over something driven by selfishness.”
And now you were visibly angry.
“Astarion. Stop it – please. You told me about the spawn in the Underdark, too. A selfish person wouldn't even factor them in.”
He grimaced. “Be it as it may. It didn't start out like that. I thought of only myself when I made the deal with Ava. My blood for a possible cure to my hunger.”
“Does it matter how it started? Does it, really? You're not the person you used to be. You're not driven by the same survival instinct and selfishness.”
“Because of you.” he blurted out.
Did this version of himself even exist without you? If it hadn't been for you, he would have ascended. He would have sacrificed thousands of souls and reach
A part of him still lingered on the ‘what if’ of it all. Deep down, he knew that refusing to partake in the ritual had been the right choice for him. For everyone. 
But he still wondered… what if.
“What of the ritual, then? I was so blinded by greed and power that I would have caved in if not for you.”
Weak.
Pathetic.
Broken.
You seemed slightly taken aback before offering a reassuring smile. “You're so wrong, Astarion. I merely reminded you of who you already were. You saved yourself.”
He was stunned silent for a moment.
You were being genuine and it was clear you meant every single word.
“I've told you this before, but I'm proud of you,” you said, reaching for his hand and he nearly hissed from the sudden shift in temperature. You were always so warm… even on a cool night. “I hope you are, too.”
He wasn't. He truly wasn't, but he would lie for you.
His voice would give him away, so he merely nodded, earning a tender squeeze from you.
“Maybe we ought to go and meet Wyll now.”
He hesitated as you tugged his hand, not moving an inch.
In truth, he'd rather stay here with you and savour this moment. He was excruciatingly exhausted from the emotional turmoil the past days had brought on. 
“The sooner we go, the better,” you reminded him.
Astarion looked up at the night sky until his gaze found the horizon line, hues of soft pink and orange swirling in the distance.
Dawn was about to break.
The sun couldn't be kept from rising just as he couldn't keep himself from you.
“We'll figure this out, Astarion. Together.”
You gave his hand another squeeze and shifted in his seat, fully facing you.
For a moment, he considered kissing you. He thought it would be fitting. He could allow his body to convey what words would always fail to do so.
But his body was at the mercy of his mind.
So you spoke first, “May I hug you?”
It was a simple enough request, yet he appreciated you asking beforehand.
“Of course, darling.”
You leaned into him, engulfing his body within the warmth of yours. He lowered his chin to rest on your shoulder and you mimicked him, clearly doing your best to read his body language.
He was tense at first, mostly due to the unwavering fear that his mind might play a trick on him. 
But he found himself slowly but surely easing into you, welcoming your touch. He could hear your pulse quicken alongside your neck and his stomach lurched in response. His most basic instincts being put to the test.
A wave of revulsion washed down in a frail attempt at keeping his hunger for your blood at bay.
Eventually, he was able to have it subside into the back of his mind, like an ever-watchful fiend, waiting for him to give permission.
But he had sworn off feeding on you again. At least, for the time being. As painful as it was – and borderline unnatural for a vampire – he had to resist this. 
The act itself was too tainted for now, and the wildlife around Baldur's Gate would have to suffice.
He wished he could freeze this moment in time and have everything else be background noise.
And when you finally pulled back from the embrace, he saw tears streaming down your face, causing him to stir in alert.
“What did I do?”
You shook your head, your face too close. “Nothing. You're just…”
It was time to lighten the mood and that was a skill he indulged like no other.
“Ridiculously handsome?”
You chuckled, your breath fanning his lips. “Incredibly so. But…”
He cradled your face in his hands, thumb brushing against the softness of your cheek, as he waited for you to continue.
You shivered under his touch.
Was it from the cold?
Or was it something else?
You were close. Too close. 
He could feel your every breath on his face and this ever-growing pull was now enveloping him.
Oh, how he wanted to kiss you.
Make you his and his alone.
“What is it, love?”
The word had left his lips before he could register how he was almost… panting.
Your hands came to grip his arms and he found himself leaning into you again.
“Astarion… I…”
He arched a brow, suddenly aware that something was amiss.
Something was terribly wrong.
Your eyes were glassy and your skin had grown cold, mouth agape and face void of any tangible expression.
Suddenly, you went limp in his arms but not before letting out a piercing pained shriek that tore through the night air and through him like the sharpest of knives. Your pulse was weak, but he could still feel your heart fighting through
Amongst the shock and panic, he spotted movement in the corner of his eye.
A hooded figure was standing still by the fence and he immediately knew who it was.
“Hello, Astarion.”
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TBC
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wttcsms · 2 days
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if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | TWO
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ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn’t get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn’t just a pro soccer player, but also your ex’s rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )
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pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 5.9k chapter synopsis the busier your schedule, the less time you can spend thinking about rin. the only problem is, you see something you can't unsee. nothing a bottle of tequila can't fix, right? (spoiler: tequila isn't fixing a broken heart) chapter contains partying and drinking to cope, diet culture author’s notes i have nothing to insightful to add rn, but send me any asks discussing this fic and i will have a lot to say LOL
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From: [email protected] To: [USER EMAIL HIDDEN] Cc: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected] + 3 others Subject: 6/19 — [NAME] [SURNAME] AGENDA Attachments: 📎 [6.19 AGENDA.pdf]
All — 
Attached is the PDF copy of [Name]’s itinerary for today. Reminder that these times are STRICT. Stay on schedule. 
Fumiko Gima
Get Outlook for IOS 
Your first alarm goes off at 4:50 AM to what you assume is the noise they play on repeat in hell (By the Seaside, an Apple classic). After waking up, you roll over in your king size bed (the problem with always choosing to go big instead of just going home is the fact that when you’re all alone, the luxury of extra space just becomes empty space) to promptly hit the snooze button. You’ll allow yourself five more minutes of sleep (as a treat). When the second alarm you set up goes off at 4:53 AM (By the Seaside, once again), you scream into your pillow, and shut it off for real this time. You knew you weren’t going to give yourself the full five minutes, but it felt really good to trick yourself into believing that you would. You always start the day with this tiny disappointment; that way, no one has the privilege of being the first person to piss you off. 
At 4:54 AM, you slide your feet into your Ugg slippers, readjust the loose straps of your silk camisole, and shuffle into your marble-floored bathroom. You rub the sleep from your eyes, brush your teeth with your pink electric toothbrush, and wash your face. By the time you’re done with your morning skincare, it’s 5:06 AM. You honestly can’t remember the last time you did your own makeup, but you bring your makeup bag with you anyway. If there’s downtime between shoots, you’ll post a faux-GRWM TikTok where you apply three miniscule dots of concealer on your seemingly already flawless skin and add a fresh layer of the brand new, limited edition Rhode peptide lip treatment that Hailey Bieber’s team gifted you. They also gave you twenty grand to do so, with a personal “hey girlie, would love to catch up with you one of these days!! life has been so hectic, sorry for not keeping in touch x btw, i just came out with a new shade of my…” text from Hailey herself. (You replied back with a “yessss, we need to meet up soon!! Also, LOVE LOVE LOVE the new shade omg 😍” — neither of you have any intention for planning a meet-up, and you don’t “LOVE LOVE LOVE” the new shade as much as you “LOVE LOVE LOVE” to deposit a fat check.) 
You’re sliding into the backseat of the glossy black SUV parked in front of your driveway at 5:14 AM. Your chauffeur, Benji, holds open the door for you. 
“Good morning, Ms. [Surname],” Benji never drops the formalities with you, except for when he’s lecturing you. Thank God he doesn’t own a smartphone; if he saw half the things Daily Mail wrote about you, his voice would be gone from scolding you so much. Even if he’s technically on your parents’ payroll and is paid to make sure you get to and from places safely, it still feels nice to have someone who cares about you enough to call you out on your shit. 
The first stop is an exclusive, members-only pilates studio. If you’re home, you have to work out in the morning, no matter what. You like your routine. Out of all the things online magazines put out about you, it’s kind of embarrassing how the most accurate one is revealing how you stay “fit ‘n flawless even after going out every night.” Most people didn’t believe it. Rin got it, though. Rin would actually work out with you, when the two of your schedules aligned, and— Time to start your workout early! Nothing takes your mind off of matters more than focusing on the burn of your core and arms. 
By the time you finish your private session, you’re walking out the studio with your puffy tote bag slung over your shoulders. Your body is still a bit damp from taking a quick shower but not drying off properly, and Benji drops you off at your first business stop of the day — ELLE Japan.
You smile brightly as the team of makeup artists surrounding you shower you with compliments. One of the girls brushing on your foundation tells you that you have really nice skin. When she goes in for a second layer, you almost consider rescinding the thanks you gave her.
The set is hectic, as expected. No matter how long these people have been in the industry, no matter how big the host is, something always seems to be going wrong. Apparently, there’s been a mishap over in wardrobe, and ELLE’s people are not very happy with how this is going to delay everything. With your hair and makeup done, there’s nothing for you to do besides sit down, be quiet, and look pretty. 
Downtime is the last thing you want. You’re used to a busy schedule, but you convinced Fumiko to accept as many projects as possible. If you have to rank at the top of the list for celebrities who emit the most CO2, then so be it. You’ll pollute the whole damn planet if it means you won’t have a single second to be alone with your thoughts. 
At 9:00 AM sharp, you go on your phone to inform your manager that the agenda is fucked. ELLE Japan is definitely going to push back this session with you for at least a good hour, which means Fumiko is going to have to explain to Your Style (the YouTube channel name for a famous fashion commentator who’s amassed nearly twenty million subscribers) why you’re going to be late for the Zoom debrief on what you two are going to talk about in an upcoming video. At 9:02 AM, you receive a text.
juli ᡣ𐭩: u know i love u 
It’s two in the morning in Paris. When Juliette said she was going to visit her father, she said it was going to be a much-needed vacation — just something chill and lowkey, like going to all the designer stores and eating croissants on a balcony. Those were her exact words. 
juli ᡣ𐭩: [photo attachment] 
Somehow, from the neon strobe lights, bodies pressed against one another’s, and the way the image is blurry because she couldn’t get her phone to focus, it feels like Juliette’s “something chill and lowkey” morphed into club-hopping all over France. You roll your eyes with affection. You should’ve known her vacation was going to turn into this; as if Juliette would eat bread for pleasure — she’s been quoted for claiming that carbs are a necessary evil. She probably hasn’t even touched a croissant for the past week she’s been there.
juli ᡣ𐭩: showing u before TMZ posts it juli ᡣ𐭩: [video attachment] juli ᡣ𐭩: do not freak out. not worth it. juli ᡣ𐭩: ugh i knew this club sucked ass for a reason 
You wait for the video to load. It’s almost as blurry and unfocused as the original image she sent, but you can tell she had to zoom in pretty hard to capture what she wanted. It’s two figures with a minimal amount of space between them. One of them is definitely a girl; she has the build of the usual French models. A thin, leggy brunette who has mastered the intricate art of Just Had Sex hair. Perfectly messy, but could never be considered sloppy. She’s wearing a sparkly, tight minidress. The fabric shimmers when the strobe lights pass by her body. The person she’s practically pressed up against is a man. Tall, lean. He’s leaning down, presumably so he can hear her better. When the video clip ends abruptly (someone bumped into Juliette, and the video ends with shaky footage and a loud “putain!”), you replay it. And replay it. And then you play it again, just for good measure.
Each time you watch the stupid video, you find something new to notice. Her red lips brushing against his ear. The way his hand hovers near her hip. The way you’re certain she’s smiling when she speaks, like the smirk of a victor. The exact same self-satisfied, smug grin you sport whenever you get a guy right where you want him. Upon every rewatch, though, one thing remains the same: you’re constantly fixated on him.
Right now, it’s two in the morning in Paris. You know that when you weren’t in this fucked up headspace you’re in right now, you’d be in bed, snuggled underneath your blankets, by 11:30 PM. You know that when you felt your best, you could be in bed, whispering in the dark to the person you felt safest with, at 10:00 PM (at the latest, because you both would have a busy day ahead and needed the rest). He likes sleeping early because he likes being well-rested. 
So why the hell is Rin Itoshi at a club right now?
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At 9:39 AM, ELLE Japan gets right back on track. Before your editorial shoot for a special anniversary edition of the magazine, they get you to sit down to do a video interview that they plan on posting all over their social media. 
“This is a very special edition that will be coming out, and you are not only having the biggest spread dedicated to you, but you’re also going to be on the cover. Knowing this, how are you feeling right now, [Name]? This might be the most high-profile photoshoot you’ve done so far in your career, and that’s saying something. You have quite the impressive resume.” 
The ring lights are shining directly in your eye. The stool they have you sitting on for this interview is uncomfortable, and you have to focus on remaining balanced. Your back is perfectly straight, and your hands are folded in your lap. You blink, and you see the video playing in your mind. You have God knows how much makeup caked on right now, and you still have a long day ahead of you. Rin is at a club right now. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl, and they’re basically grinding against each other, and he might just have forgotten all about you.
You smile brightly. At 9:40 AM in Japan, you let everyone know, 
“I honestly think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been before in my life! This is a great way to establish a sort of, I guess, new era of my life and my career.” 
You turn to face the camera directly, giving them a dazzling view of your pearly whites. “Not trying to rush the process or anything, but I am definitely looking forward to seeing how this will all play out in the future.” 
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You’re operating on autopilot for the rest of the day. The ELLE shoot wraps up close to noon. You forgo lunch, but knowing you and your tendency to skip meals, Benji refuses to start the car until you eat the lunch his wife packed for you. It’s light and refreshing — they want you to eat well, but they’re not cruel. Even if they want to bring you a feast of a nice, hot, home cooked meal, you’ll eat it out of obligation and then suffer the consequences on set when everyone asks why you’re so bloated. You don’t even taste what you’re consuming. 
At 12:30 PM, you hop on the Zoom call and pretend to care about discussing matters such as the lack of personal style affecting the younger generations. Every topic is a trivial topic to you. The only thing worth dissecting is that damn video. You should’ve asked those twenty million subscribers to help you analyze that, instead of nodding along when the YouTuber starts going on a rant about how Shein and other fast fashion brands are ruining everything. 
Late in the afternoon, you get another text. 
kenyu: So the team wants to host a belated birthday party for me lmao. Team’s planning on having it at 10 tonight kenyu: Sending you the address right now
A party is exactly what you need right now. Endless drinks, no need for rational thinking, and you’ll be (mostly) surrounded by people who think models are all vain and vapid. No one there is going to expect a decent conversation from you, and with the state you’re in, it’s a wonder how all your sentences are even making sense. 
You give Kenyu’s next message a like in response. You were expecting a club, but when you click on the address, Maps reveals that it’s residential. Rin is gallivanting around European nightclubs, and meanwhile, the best you can do are house parties. This is how the future is playing out? 
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At least even at your worst, people still think you’re on top of the world. 
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Maybe life without a man dragging you down and invading your space is for the best. After all, once you got done with all your professional obligations, it’s only eight at night. You’re used to going out with whatever makeup they did for you on set at your last shoot of the day, which is a shame. You have shelves full of makeup that’s been sent to you by different brands, and one of these nights, you plan on just messing around at your vanity. 
You like living alone, you decide. You can leave all the lights on if you want, and no one complains about it hurting their eyes. You have full control of the thermostat. You don’t have to fight for counter space in the bathroom. Plus, no one can see how you’re living. 
At 9:13 PM, you’re sprawled on the cool marble floor of your bathroom (squeaky clean thanks to the housekeeper you have come once a week), and instead of rewatching that dreadful video and subsequently crying, you had a quick retail therapy session. Your new Prada heels should be coming within the next two days. 
You don’t get Benji to drive you. Nobody bats an eye at a rich girl having a driver, but it does seem kind of weird to have him drop you off at a party as if you're a tween girl getting taken to the mall. If the house is owned by one of Yukimiya’s teammates, surely it won’t be too awkward if you had to leave it there because you got too drunk to drive yourself back home? 
Because — no offense to Yuki, you’re happy he’s getting another birthday celebration — the whole point of even going to this party is to get fucked up. You already know that Juliette had a point — if not TMZ, then at least Daily Mail will be all over Rin and that girl in the club. If that gets leaked, then you might as well have your own headline to combat his. Sure, lately you’ve been out partying, but that was with other models so it doesn’t raise too many eyebrows. Rin being caught at a club is basically him hard launching the breakup. You need to raise some speculation on your side of things, too. 
you: can you get someone to pick up my car from this address tomorrow morning? you: please :) 
When you see three dots appear, you smile for real. You can practically hear her sigh and see the shake of her head.
Fumiko Gima: Yes. Fumiko Gima: Be safe.
Aw, maybe your manager does have a heart. Right before you can send her a heart, she adds:
Fumiko Gima: Don’t stay out too late. You have your first shoot at 8 AM. 
This is the message you give a heart reaction to. Maybe everything really is just business with her. 
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You suppose you can’t fault Fumiko for always seeming cold. She’s your manager, not your best friend. 
In this industry, her honesty is refreshing. You normally find this to be the case, but you really feel it now when you step into the mansion and hear a cacophony of laughter swarming you from all sides. At every turn, there’s a celebrity with a drink in hand. Everyone’s leaning towards each other, as if they’re so captivated with the other’s words. 
You see an actor leading a stumbling model up the spiral staircase. To your side, you see a baseball player chatting up the daughter of one of the baseball league’s board members. Upstairs, someone’s probably snorting a line off Yukimiya’s teammate’s bathroom counter. There are only three reasons why people in your social circle attend these parties: to get fucked, to get fucked up, or to make business deals. Considering the fact that you’ve been here for nearly five minutes and have yet to see a birthday cake — or the belated birthday boy himself — you’re pretty sure everyone here has lot the damn plot for the original celebration.
When you venture some more, you end up in the massive backyard. Some people are drunkenly making out in the pool, some people are watching them, and in a table in the corner, you spot a group of girls giggling and cheering as they all do shots. Perfect. This is exactly where you need to be. 
One’s a model; you’ve seen her on a couple pages you flipped through in Harper’s Bazaar. You go up to the table and give her a bright smile.
“Hey, girl! Or should I say Miss Bazaar?” You greet her like how you think people would tease a friend. She’s not your friend; you don’t even know her name. You know she knows your name — everyone here does. And it’s because of the fact that everyone knows you that she lights up when she realizes you’re speaking to her. 
A photo op with you guarantees that even if the headline coming out tomorrow is centered on you, she’ll still be in the frame. Daily Mail will add a caption naming everybody from left to right, and she’s planning on being the one captured right next to you. 
“[Name]!” She squeals, giving you a quick side hug. “How have you been?”
All your friends, the grand total of exactly two people, know how you’ve been. You grin, pointing to the bottle of tequila they have on their table. 
“After how this day has been, I honestly just need a shot.” You play it off like a joke, and as someone pours you one, you add, “Or maybe like five.” They all giggle before throwing back the tequila straight. They might think you’re joking, but this table full of strangers are the first people you’ve been honest with all day. 
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At 12:15 AM, they aren’t strangers anymore. In fact, you think they might be your best friends in the whole world. You don’t know the lyrics to the rap song blaring through the bass boosted speakers, but you’re laughing as you take another shot. The Harper’s Bazaar girl is doing another shot with you, but she has her phone in her other hand. She makes sure that the both of you are in the frame together, and a second later, she’s tagging you in an Instagram story you don’t bother to view. You’re not even following her. 
“Okay, so out of all the guys here, who looks the most fuckable?” One of the girls leans on the table for support as she asks this question. You can’t help but notice how glittery her lipgloss is. Wow, even after all the shots she’s taken, there’s no transfer. Impressive. “I say Theo Sachs.” 
“Who the fuck is Theo Sachs?” Harper’s Bazaar asks, and the whole entire table giggles. Honestly, at parties like these, laughing comes easy. In fact, you’re giggling right with them, even though you also have no fucking clue who Theo is. There’s just something so freeing in tequila-induced joy. 
“Um, the host of this party?” Glittery Lipgloss says. “Oh my God, girl, he’s like, one of the players for Bastard.” 
“The fuck is Bastard?” Another girl asks, adjusting her blue minidress. 
“The soccer team!” Glittery Lipgloss is too drunk to be fed up, but you’re sure she would be rolling her eyes if she could. 
“I didn’t know we had soccer players here. I only saw baseball players.” Blue Minidress frowns, before adding, “I would totally fuck one of the baseball boys, though. No preference whatsoever. Matter of fact, I could take the whole team.” 
Harper’s Bazaar laughs. “What about you, [Name]? Who are you taking home tonight?” 
Before you can think of something to say, Glittery Lipgloss groans. “Oh my God, she has a boyfriend.” She looks at you for confirmation. You don’t give her any, but thankfully Blue Minidress has her own insight to add to this conversation. 
“So what the fuck does that have to do with her question? [Name], who are you taking home tonight?” 
Nobody. Out of every party you’ve gone to this past month, you went back home, completely and utterly alone each and every time. It’s not even because nobody offered — they have — but because no matter how lonely you may get or feel, you don’t like strangers in your space. It took you three months of dating Rin to let him into the penthouse you were originally staying in, and that was with you being in love with him. 
Once again, you’re saved from answering when someone behind you goes, “[Name]?” 
You turn around, only to come face to face with Yoichi Isagi. On second thought, maybe this isn’t the rescue you thought it was. Drunk You can’t hold back your frown when you see him. He’s wearing a dark blue polo shirt and chinos. He looks perfectly business casual and could pass off as an off-the-clock investment banker instead of the world class athlete you’ve heard he is. Then you let out a little snort of laughter, which only makes him look more confused. You don’t want to tell him that it’s kind of funny how normal he looks. 
Not in a bad way. You’re surrounded by models for practically the whole day. Looking unattainably hot or having ethereal beauty is the one non-negotiable job requirement. Even Rin, with his stupidly long lower lashes and impossibly high cheekbones and his pretty boy resting sulking face, is serving standards some male models can’t achieve. Isagi looks like the type of guy you would have a crush on if the two of you were completely normal and attended regular high school together. 
But that’s not the reality you’re living in. Right now, you’re getting drunk with girls you don’t know, and every night, you’re making headlines. He’s a professional athlete that everyone at this table would gladly fuck just for a chance to be declared social media’s favorite WAG of the Week. The both of you could have your pick of anyone at this party, but you refuse to let anyone in, and you think Isagi might be one of those intense athletes who only care about their sport.
If that’s the case, he’s doing every girl a favor by not pretending he can commit to anything but soccer. You know someone who could use a few pointers. 
“Hi,” you mumble, and then you want to slap yourself because why the fuck are you acting like you’re nervous? But for some reason, you feel like you're a kid caught with their grimy hand in the cookie jar, like you’re doing something wrong.
“I didn’t know you’d be here.” 
“Well, it’s Kenny’s birthday party. Of course, I’d be here.” You cross your arms against your chest, feeling like you have something to prove. Before Yukimiya became his teammate, Kenyu was your friend first. Like, real friend, not just someone you leave supportive comments on their Instagram post type of friend. 
Isagi actually smiles when he hears that. “Funny. I think everyone but Yukimiya actually wants to be here.” 
You sober up a bit when you hear that. “Yeah, I couldn’t find him anywhere.” Not that you looked very hard. The minute you found this table of girls, you didn’t bother exploring the rest of the mansion. 
“He was upstairs with some of the guys. You know that he, uh, doesn’t really like these types of parties.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. 
“You don’t seem like the type to like these parties either.” If he was anyone else, you’d be saying this to flirt. You’re honestly not sure what your intention behind this comment was, either. You’re too drunk to decide if you wanted it to be an insult (some way to defend Yukimiya’s behavior?) or just you trying to make conversation for once (you’re not normally one for small talk). 
“Caught me.” Isagi smiles easily. From now and thinking back to Yukimiya’s birthday lunch, Isagi is rarely not smiling. You wonder if he means it. Surrounded by people who only let you drink with them because being seen with you elevates their own status, you decide that the answer to that is a probably not. “I was about to head out before I thought I saw you, and I wanted to come by and…” For a second, he pauses to choose the right words to say. “Just wanted to see if it really was you.”
“Well, you saw me. Guess your business is done here.” Then you swiftly turn your back to him, as if to abruptly end the conversation. Instead, you’re drunker than you realize, and your heel ends up being wedged deeper into the grass than you expected, and you lose your balance. You think you might fall, which would be so embarrassing, but maybe not as embarrassing as what actually ends up happening.
What actually ends up happening is that Isagi is quick to wrap his arm around your abdomen, pulling you close to him as he attempts to keep you steady and upright. The girls looked shocked, but then they burst into another round of giggles, and since you’re not joining in the laughter, all you can think about is how annoying they are. You squirm around in his grasp, ignoring the whiff of fresh laundry you get from being all up in his personal space (not by choice!!!; he’s the one that pulled you in, after all!), and he releases you. 
“Are you feeling okay?” He asks you. It’s hard to glare at him when he looks so genuinely concerned. 
“Never better.” 
“Do you have a ride home?” 
What does it matter to you? Is what you want to say. 
“I’ll call an Uber.” You lie, hoping that this will end the conversation once and for all. Seriously, Isagi just killed the whole vibe of the party for you. You want to go back to drinking. 
“But I thought you didn’t do Ubers.” When Isagi calls you out on your bullshit, you soften momentarily. You almost forgot that he heard about your weird thing of having strangers know your home address. Then, you go back to giving him the cold shoulder. Sometimes, it’s a warm and gooey feeling to be known. Right now, you want to drown your sorrows in tequila and be showered with fake affection by girls who probably don’t even like you sober. You didn’t come to this party to be known. You came here for revenge. 
(You’re not going to acknowledge how drinking your sadness away isn’t necessarily showing up Rin, but for nearly an hour straight, you hadn’t thought about him, and that’s good enough.) 
When you have no response to that (wit doesn’t come easy when you’re in the condition you’re in right now), Isagi looks at you imploringly. 
“Let me take you home.” 
You shake your head childishly, almost saying nuh-uh. “Just because you don’t like this party doesn’t mean I don’t like it. I’m staying right here.” 
He finally frowns. “Fine. I’ll wait for you to finish up here, then I’ll take you home.”
“I’m with my friends right now. Leave me alone.” 
He raises an eyebrow. “Really? Which friend is going to make sure you get home safely? Yukimiya already left early.” Despite the two of you not knowing what the other is thinking, you both give wry smiles about that statement for the same reason. The party is still going on strong, despite the guest of honor not wanting to show his face and leaving early. 
“These are my best friends.” You gesture to the trio of girls you know nothing about, besides the fact that they can keep up with your drinking habits. They all smile at Isagi, who waves back before turning his attention back to you.
“Really?” He asks. “What’re their names again?”
No one has anything to say to that, especially you. When the silence gets too awkward, Isagi clears his throat and also puts his foot down.
“I’m taking you home, [Name].” 
You look at the trio of strangers you just spent hours with. Harper’s Bazaar shrugs, and the other two look away. The sting of not knowing who they are, despite them obviously having enough notoriety to be invited, makes your “best friends” not your friends anymore. Whatever. 
“Fine.” You grumble, following Isagi to his car. 
“Did you have fun tonight?” Is what he asks you as he signals to make a turn. The clicking of the turn signal is the only thing that fills the silence in the car. 
No. 
Sometimes, it’s fun in the moment, but that’s only when you’re drunk enough to trick yourself into thinking you’re having a good time. You’re more like Yukimiya (and — gross — Isagi) than they know; the whole “It Girl dominates the party scene” vibe you’ve got going on… It’s just bullshit that your PR team mixes together to get people talking. The high of being adored by everyone in a room vanishes almost immediately the minute you go home and wash off your makeup. In the bright lights of your bathroom, you stare at the sad, lonely girl in the mirror. It’s too dark outside for you to see anything out the window, but you lean your head against the cool glass, and before you know it, you’re waking up…
To Isagi groping you?
You’re groggy and confused and trying to blink the sleepiness out of your eyes, but Yoichi Isagi is definitely all up on you. You’re shocked, honestly. He looks like such a sweet guy! No wonder he was so pushy in getting you home.
He’s holding you in some awkward side hug, and he’s patting down your waist, trying to slip his fingers through the fabric of your dress, and finally, because he must be a novice-level pervert who doesn’t know the first thing about female anatomy, you speak up. 
“Gross! You can’t even feel up a girl properly! No wonder you take advantage of drunk, vulnerable girls!” 
“Ah!” He jerks back, shocked that you’re awake. Serves the pervert right. He should be backing up. You took a month of kickboxing classes (your modeling agency thought it would be the next big thing, since all the Victoria Secret models kickbox — they were wrong). “I-I wasn’t feeling you up!” 
“Then why were your hands all over me?” 
“I was looking for your key! You were asleep, and you looked like you needed it, so I just carried you to your door, but it’s locked.”
Oh. Likely story. You’re not letting him off the hook just yet. 
“Obviously my front door would be locked, dumbass. Who doesn’t lock their house?” You point to the perfectly trimmed hedges by your door. “Key’s in the bushes.”
Since you’re making no moves to get down on your knees and rifle through the bushes, Isagi sighs and does it himself. When he holds up the key, you nod in thanks, take it, and then proceed to unlock the door using your fingerprint. 
He blinks. “What?” 
“What?” You repeat back, innocently. 
“You didn’t even need the key to unlock the door!”
“Yes, Isagi. Modern technology is something, isn’t it?” And because you feel kind of bad, you offer him the chance to wash up before driving back. 
“You’re really something, you know that?” Isagi says from the kitchen sink. You’re sitting on a stool by the counter.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s nothing bad.” He clarifies. “It’s just… Rin’s a pretty private person. We always wondered what his girlfriend must be like. Sorry.” He shuts off the faucet, dries his hands. “Ex-girlfriend, I guess.”
“How do you know that?” You’ve been racking your brain, wondering if Yuki spilled your secret accidentally. Or — even worse — Rin himself confirmed it. Rin never even told anyone explicitly that the two of you were dating, so it’s not plausible that he would go blab about the breakup. 
“Well, I didn’t really know for sure until I drove you home that first time.” He admits. “I just thought you made a weird face when I mentioned Rin during lunch, and then you started acting funny afterwards. Just had a hunch, that’s all.” 
Great. So, Isagi, who’s basically a stranger to you, could read you to filth. Is there anyone else that you haven’t been fooling? How embarrassing. Being perceived sucks. 
You don’t say anything else. You can hear Isagi mumbling about something, and you make a half-hearted noise in reply, but you’re sleepy and drunk and coming to the realization that you can’t keep fooling everyone around for long. There’s no point in dancing around the topic of your breakup. It’s getting tiring, anyway. 
It is pretty exhausting to be pining after someone who’s not coming back. 
Because that’s why you’re trying so hard to keep the breakup a secret. Partly for pride, but mostly because… You’re hoping that after learning everything there is to know about you, Rin Itoshi wouldn’t go so far to cut you so deeply by leaving you. Right? He understood your level of loneliness like no one else, and he related to it. For the first time in both of your lives, the two of you suddenly found the right person to fill in all the empty spaces. 
And then he left, and the emptiness just continues to grow in infinite amounts.
You groan as you move around, only to find that you’re moving on top of your bed. You’re tucked into your sheets, and your hair is splayed across your pillow. You turn your head and see a shadowy figure exiting out your bedroom door.
“You’re leaving, too?” 
Your throat is dry, and the words come out small. You hate this feeling of hopelessness and vulnerability, and the figure pauses in his steps. 
He hushes you gently. “You should go to sleep. You’ve had a long night.” 
“Fine. Don’t stay. I don’t care.” You burrow yourself further into your blankets. 
“Do you really want me to stay?” 
At one in the morning, covered in the darkness of your bedroom, you turn every shadow into Rin Itoshi. You don’t know what you mumble in response, but you know that whatever you said, it’s directed towards him.
220 notes · View notes
space-mango-company · 5 months
Text
Stranger | Chapter 5
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Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]
TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism
Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Not proofread!! Holy moly. Here it is, folks. The scene that inspired this whole fic. I had fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it. Once again, I appreciate everyone who likes, comments, and/or leaves kudos so much. I really started this fic for myself but good golly, that dopamine rush whenever I get a notif might be more addicting than spice. I'm glad to be part of the bald man brigade.
Also, I can't believe I'm only now questioning why I decided to write this in the second person? I guess maybe I thought this fic would be a lot shorter and not that deep, lol. At this point 'y/n' probably has enough personality to just be a straight-up OC. It's funnier because I don't even find second-person or y/n fics any more engaging either. I always detach myself by giving 'y/n' her own name and only seeing her as a character in the fic.
ANYWAY, sorry to ramble. Stay safe and have a good one, ya weirdos.
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You step out into the dark cul-de-sac of the guest hall, illuminated only by the large suspensor lamp in the middle. Feyd-Rautha looks you up and down, seemingly entranced by how the dim light casts his shadow on your modest dress. Atreides green, he recognized.
"Trying to sneak into my rooms again?" you say arms crossed, leaning on your door. "I didn't appreciate the last time, by the way."
"It's my house," he says cooly, "and I did knock this time."
You stare at him indifferently.
"Quite the display from you yesterday morning, using The Voice on me." His voice low and raspy, "I should have you drawn and quartered."
You scoff in his face. "You almost choked me to death. Are you trying to start a war?"
He takes a step closer and his face is inches from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek, "I didn't think I'd like you this much, little hawk."
"What do you want, Feyd-Rautha?" you had no patience for him right now.
"Ah," he steps back, a dark smile on his face, "I've been waiting to hear my name from your tongue." His hand reaches for your lips. "I've grown quite tired of 'na-Baron'."
You grab his wrist before he can touch you. "If you're only here to toy with me, I would rather be left alone to prepare for bed." You release his hand and turn to open your door.
Feyd-Rautha props an arm against the doorway to block you. "We're to be married in three days," he says, "and I just can't seem to bring myself to let go of my 'harpies', as you called them." He meets your gaze. "You said you'd kill them. Did you mean that?"
You look up at him with steely eyes. He towered over you but your heart felt no fear, "Yes."
His coy smile returns. "Good. Come to my training hall tomorrow," he says, walking away.
"What?" you call after him.
"Dress to fight," he says over his shoulder. "I want to see what you can do, Atreides."
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You needed no help from Zora in putting on a loose shirt and long pants. The plain beige outfit certainly wasn't as elegant as the dresses you had been wearing so far. But it was comfortable and you could fight in it, which was all that mattered. Still, you look yourself in the mirror. The soft, airy fabrics draped over your figure well but perhaps you were not in the best shape as you once were. Your muscle mass is much less than your brother's and he wasn't particularly built himself. You admit you did wane off your training sessions with Gurney and Paul leading up to your departure from Caladan. Nevertheless, you were still a skilled warrior. Another secret you've been keeping from the Harkonnens.
You were 14 when you started learning the blade. Watching Paul, 2 years your senior, practice with the Atreides Warmaster lit a fire in you. You didn't hesitate to pester your father to let you train with them and of course, there was nothing he could deny his darling daughter. You were a fierce and determined student. Gurney Halleck was a man you genuinely believed to be one of the best fighters in the Imperium, along with Duncan Idaho. Gurney would train you and Paul on even days. On odd days, your mother would teach you the Weirding Way. These lessons, much like the rest of your mother's teachings, your father wanted to know nothing about. After becoming decently adept at Prana-Bindu and gaining almost complete physical control of your body, Lady Jessica insisted that you also be skilled in the Bene Gesserit style of combat.
You were far from mastery in either but the combination of both trainings made you a formidable fighter. Despite this, you could never seem to beat your brother in a sparring match. A fact that frustrated you to no end, though you appreciated that Paul never went easy on you. You'd always blame it on him having trained for longer than you have. But in truth, you knew there had just always been something special about him.
"Are you ready, my lady?" Zora's soft voice wakes you from your thoughts.
"Hm? Right. Yes, let's go." You quickly tie your hair out of the way and grab your father's dagger from atop your dresser.
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There was no fanfare when you entered the hall. On one end, the na-Baron's concubines sat chained on the steps of the shallow recessed pit in their leathers, their glares piercing through you. Your eyes linger on them as Feyd-Rautha and his Warmaster greet you.
"I was starting to think my lady bride was bluffing," Feyd-Rautha says as you approach him. The older man beside him offers you a polite bow.
"Perhaps she wasn't so keen on your brutish games," you bite back. "Your lord uncle won't be joining us?"
"No," Feyd-Rautha crosses his arms, "but he'll be hearing about your victory. Or your demise."
"Right. Well, I assume you'll be releasing them from those chains," you nod towards his pets "Not sure why they're necessary."
"Oh, trust me, little hawk. They're necessary." Feyd-Rautha motions to a servant.
"Your blade and shield, my lady," they bow, presenting you with a knife and a small device you recognize as a Holtzman shield.
"I've brought my own," you unsheath your father's dagger. You contemplate taking the shield but remembering that the na-Baron forwent it during his gladiator fight, you decide to do so as well. "They've no weapons anyway, the shield seems pointless."
Feyd-Rautha shrugs, "If you insist."
You take a deep breath, "Let's get this over with."
You lightly stretch as you walk down the steps of the shallow pit to stand opposite the na-Baron's concubines. You had come into this on the pretense of righteousness. For Iassa, you told yourself. But you've known her a mere two days. A part of you wanted to show off. You were good and you knew it. You could probably kill anyone in this room, even Feyd-Rautha. You craved the respect of the people here: the Harkonnens, the people of Geidi Prime. You figured this was one way to get it.
Feyd-Rautha walks around the pit to one of his concubines and kneels to whisper something in her ear. You assume a fighting stance when he moves to release her from the chains. When you meet her eyes, they are filled with feral bloodlust.
Suddenly, you weren't so bold. The veil of courage you have maintained since you arrived, even when Feyd-Rautha had your neck in his grip, is torn apart when you face this woman. You could tell no part of her would hesitate to rip your throat out with her bare teeth. You were almost relieved they were unarmed, but you weren't sure if that would make them any less lethal.
Fear grew in your chest and you had less than a moment to recite the Litany in your head before the concubine lunged at you.
You crouch down in time and slash at her abdomen as she approaches you. You turn to face her on the other side of the pit and she wastes no time in attacking you again. She attempts to grab your armed hand but you take hold of her wrist first and move to pin it behind her back. Quickly, your blade drags across her throat and she falls to your feet.
The kill has not yet registered in your mind but your heart is racing. You can almost hear your blood coursing through your veins. You held your arms outstretched, your eyes focused ahead, ready for the next one.
Across the pit, Feyd-Rautha licks his lips, smiling as he releases his second concubine. This time, you walk toward her while she moves to attack you. You clock her head with the pommel of your dagger and knock her a few steps back. She reaches a hand to wipe the blood beginning to drip out of her nose. After examining it, she snarls and bares her sharp teeth at you. Your mind is blank now. She dodges your first slash then manages to land a blow to your jaw. You seethe from the pain. You spit out the mixture of blood and saliva filling your mouth. The anger at the hit drives you to rush at her. Seeing an opening, you duck down to her waist and stab her twice. As she falls to her knees, the look of determination doesn't leave her eyes until the very last moment.
When you turn around, Feyd-Rautha has already released the last concubine. The ruthless scream she lets out disorients you. She pounces and knocks you over. She straddles you and pins your arms to the ground, your blade sliding inches away. She screams again in your face at the death of her sisters. You wedge your right knee between you and her abdomen, the only thing keeping her teeth from reaching your throat. You grunt as you struggle to free your hands. In your periphery, you see Feyd-Rautha, wielding his own blade, take a step into the pit.
"GET BACK," you roar, and he is powerless to refuse.
You turn back to your opponent still on top of you and you butt her head with your own. She loosens her grip and you kick her off to hastily crawl to your weapon. When she reorients herself and attempts to grab you again, you hook a knee under her arm and flip the both of you over. With your weight on her chest and both your knees pinning her arms down, she thrashes underneath you, claws digging into your right ankle. You take your blade in both hands and her screaming is silenced when you sink your knife deep into her heart.
When you rise, the room is quiet. Your chest heaves. The stark white ceiling lights don't help the lightheadedness that begins to wash over you in the post-adrenaline rush. Feyd-Rautha says something from behind you but his speech is garbled as you reel from the thrill of what just transpired. You were electrified. You almost... wanted more.
Then, the realization of the revolting scene you are in settles upon you and you are knocked off your high. You look at the leather-clad bodies scattered around you, the grotesque way they lay on the floor, the red blood pooling around them made brighter by the sterile grayness of the room. You did this.
A hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it. In reflex, you turn and raise your blade at the offender.
Feyd-Rautha holds his hands up, "Whoa, easy, Atreides. Trying to kill me? Don't want to start a war, do you?"
You yield your weapon. Your eyes dodge his as you look to your feet and try to steady your breathing.
"Enjoy your first taste of blood?" Feyd-Rautha says, the look in his eyes indecipherable to you. He raises a hand and swipes his thumb on your cheek. It comes away covered in crimson.
You gasp and reach for your face with your own hand. You don't even know if it's your blood or theirs, or when it got on you. Your heart pounded, unable to decide whether you were repulsed or proud.
"Look at you," he says licking the red off his finger. You could not help but stare at him through the strands of your hair that had come undone in the fighting. "You're beautiful like this," his hand reaches for your face again.
"No," you say low and quiet when you swat his hand away, "you're sick." You didn't know if you meant him or yourself. You calmly turn to leave. No one stops you when you make your way up the shallow steps of the pit. As you pass Iassa—no, Zora—by the doorway, you tell her flatly, "Prepare a bath."
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You had never taken a life before. Today, you took three. You were glad you didn't know their names. You decided you'd never find out.
After Zora pours a final pitcher of hot water into the bath, you tell her, "You may go. I'll dress myself later, thank you."
She bows and makes her way out of your rooms.
In your solitude, you bring your knees to your chest. You had been quick to wipe the blood off your cheek before you even reached your quarters. Now, you cup the water into your hands and rub it into your face, the slight sting of the heat comforting you.
He was a cruel man, your betrothed. This is what you've decided. Having you kill the concubines he claimed to want to keep so much. But wasn't it you who threatened to kill them? He started it, you argue with yourself, when he had Iassa killed. You felt like a child.
When you used to hear of Feyd-Rautha's exploits, you had to mask your disgust. And yet now, you had killed so easily in that pit as he had in the arena. What was this place doing to you?
When you left Caladan, Paul had never killed anyone either. You wonder if he ever does, would he feel the same exhilaration you did when you slit that first concubine's throat. No. Your brother was fierce but, like your father, he had a good heart. You beat him by three. You hoped it would stay that way.
You think about your future here, marrying Feyd-Rautha. Producing heir after heir under the Baron's watchful eye. You were a broodmare. Despite all your fancy training and education. Despite your little demonstration earlier. It was the bitter truth.
You missed home. You missed walking along the beach at night with your father. You missed your mother's gentle hands brushing your hair. You missed the banter and teasing with your brother. You missed Gurney, and Duncan, and the cold breeze on your balcony, and getting to roam free and going anywhere you pleased. When the tears come, you sink deep into the bath so they might fade away in the water.
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Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]
Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove @mamawiggers1980 @sstardussty @aboutthenabaron
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Masterlist
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Warnings: Swearing, violence, gore, smut, angst.
Summary: You did your time when it came to timelines and the multiverse when Wanda Maximoff entered your life. So when Deadpool and Logan need to rescue their friends from a the Void, they turn to you, someone with the power to bounce between timelines and realities. But when you finally arrive, the only person left standing is Gambit. Together, you all return to the current timeline, but your life takes an unexpected turn when Gambit decides to stay with you, offering his protection against the TVA as a thank you for rescuing him. You can't ignore the way your heart races when he’s near, or how his touch lingers just a moment longer than necessary. The fear of the TVA dragging you back is real, but so is the comfort you find in his presence. As the days pass, your emotions grow more intense, leaving you torn between your heart wanting what it knows it can't have and the terrifying reality that time itself is your enemy.
Chapter 1: "Wade fucking Wilson". Chapter 2: "My stress levels can't cope with this". Chapter 3: "Yeah see I would care but I don't". Chapter 4: "I don't know if I saw too much or not enough". Chapter 5: "If I wanted to hear an asshole talk I'd go see Wade". Chapter 6: "You think this is bad you should have seen me when I hit puberty". Chapter 7: "If you're going to arrest me can we use the cuffs?" Chapter 8: "Just making you aware". Chapter 9: "Oh finally the cavalierly are here". Chapter 10: "That looked much more fun in my mind". Chapter 11: "Home sweet Home-ish". Chapter 12: "I have no idea what you even want from me anymore". (Explicit) Chapter 13: "They'll never stop". Chapter 14: "Some things just aren't worth this". Chapter 15: Epilogue.
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jolapeno · 4 months
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14. soft periwinkle
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter fourteen of do me yourself
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summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.
wordcount: 3.8k chapter warnings: dad!frankie, luca appears. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. brief mention of frankie’s sobriety. an: thank you so much for being patient for this chapter, things are still odd at home but I've missed this pair so much <3
prev chapter | series masterlist
key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics
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Limbs stretching out, sheets rustling, your smile grows as your hand remains clasped around the phone as you bring it to your ear—
Good morning, baby.
It’s a sound that's so perfect. Just for you.
It's a sound that's so perfect. Just for you. A treat to enjoy each day—sometimes this way, sometimes in person. Still, it's almost cruel when a day starts so perfectly but doesn't end that way. You whisper your response back, even though there's no one in the house you need to be quiet for.
But it’s instinct, just like loving him is.
I love you, Frankie whispers—deep, a little gruff, voice muddled still with sleep. I love you, you repeat back, eyes staring at the photograph on your bedside table.
The one on his side of the bed. Because you have sides now.
You’d printed it the other week and chose the frame a week before that. Eyes flicking over photo-him, how his chin is raised, eyes closed, little lines in the corners from how much he’s laughing as one arm keeps you close, and he rests his other hand on the top of his abdomen.
You hadn’t taken it, Benny had. Sent it to you thirty minutes after he’d snapped it without the two of you knowing.
When will you be here? Frankie's honeyed voice asks, making you sit up from the pillows, push down the duvet. Once it’s delivered, I’ll head right to yours. I’ll be there soon, you whisper—hearing him groan as he stretches.
But soon hadn't needed to feel this long.
Busying yourself, mug in hand—warm against your palm—you lean in the doorway of the office he's built, noticing the time. How it rudely ticks on, widening the gap from the end of the call to the moment you'd hoped to be with him.
You’ve found yourself lingering in this doorway a lot lately, piecing it together, almost trying to recall what it looked like before he’d gotten his magic touch on it. The final touches are almost ready to be made, with the blinds due to be fitted soon.
And this morning, the sun has been trying to show, ready to drape the space in warm gold—little rays of light trying to break through clouds, show more than just spots of cyan between the fluffiest white.
Phone buzzing, you pull it from your back pocket, finding you’re the next stop. A thing you already knew from tracking it since you’d risen. Glancing at the little dot as it bounced around the streets as you checked your emails, showered, dressed and made coffee.
His coffee. Not able to go back now you’ve tried it.
The bubble of anxiety in your chest flares as you drain your cup. It doubles when you place it in the sink. Wiping your hands on a dishcloth, you linger close to the front window, hoping it’s perfect—knowing it needs to be.
Not that there’s any time to fix it if it isn’t.
Not even a backup plan made, a thing you half-kick yourself for as the truck pulls up outside. As your fingers flex and you dig your nails into your thighs—not wanting to open the door and wait, appear impatient; but also not wanting to spare any seconds from not being able to check it.
Not that you’d even needed to worry.
A thing that made you grin the entire drive over, keys jangling up his drive, pushing open Frankie’s front door, closing it behind you as you shout, “Luca?”
There’s a pause.
Then you hear him.
Excited bare feet slapping against the floor, thrill filling your chest, eroding all earlier worries as you move to the living room, kneel on the rug as the little boy runs to you dressed in a white onesie, various shades of dinosaurs at all angles covering it.
An outfit you remember Frankie telling you about the other week.
“Oh, well don’t you look cool?”
Grinning, spotting the smallest gap in his smile, remembering the panicked conversation Frankie had reenacted when he’d called Sam, as the man himself waves at you from the kitchen.
“You like?”
“Of course, you look so cool, Luca!”
“Cooler than Daddy?”
Flicking your eyes to Frankie, half-smirking. “Don’t tell him, but yes. Anyway, I’ve got something for you.”
Pointing at himself, he grins even wider—if that is at all possible. “For me?”
Crouching down, you slide onto your knees, before pulling open the paper bag that crinkles as you gently take out the white t-shirt inside, unfolding it, showing it to him.
And the look, as you expected, is priceless. His eyes widen, joy exploding in them as his finger gently, all but cautiously, scratches at the drawn image now ink-printed on. All you can do is watch, practically fixated on his little brown eyes tracing every element of the thing the two of you had huddled around your laptop over. How a few weeks ago, he had huddled close, dug his knees into your thigh and let you show him how he could arrange it all. His little finger guided by yours until the drawn image he’d crayoned into paper sat where he wanted on the screen, joined by the photo Frankie had found of Luca and Sam were in position. Wanna add some dinosaurs? you’d asked, aiding him in choosing cartoon dinosaurs and stars until he was happy.
“You made this! Can you believe it?”
Nodding, he continues to stare, finger-stroking at one particular photo on the t-shirt. “Mommy will like I thinks.”
“I think she’s going to love it. I bought some gift wrap—do you want to try and do it with me later?”
Nodding again, but more enthusiastically, his hands interlock in front of him. Doing a little wiggle as he stares, as he moves from the t-shirt to you.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime,” you say. “I’m going to fold this up—just so we don’t get it dirty. And then later, we can wrap all the other things for Mommy before she picks you up.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” you repeat, watching him hesitate.
A beat occurs. The t-shirt slid safely back into its bag before you feel it—little arms, the familiar scent of laundry and the softness of new fleece. A warmth exploding in you that makes you almost well up, a desperation to cling a little tighter when your arms instinctively move around him, hugging him back as little breaths tickle your ear.
“Thank you, Rainy.”
Your face shifts, trying not to choke up at the nickname coming from his mouth as your eyes meet Frankie’s in the doorway—the biggest smirk on his face.
“You’re welcome, Luca,” you whisper, as the two of you release.
It’s not even a second, barely a moment to take in what has happened before Luca shouts (enthusiastically) that he has a new toy—running back off, barely aware of the size or significance of his hug.
Fingers wiping your eyes, giving Frankie a don’t start expression as he offers his hand out to you.
“Coffee?”
Laughing, letting him pull you up, you nod, “Please.”
Sliding your arm around his back, half walking and half being led to the kitchen, unsure how you could ever begin to describe the content feeling pulsing inside of you.
“You okay?”
Nodding, you wipe another tear, staring at him, before you press a kiss to his lips. “Hi.”
“Hi, baby.”
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Have I told you how happy it makes me when I get the notification that you've posted and I find you looking so good?
Do I need to know how to build decking in Will's yard? No. Do I suddenly want you to dick me? Yes.
When did you start uploading hour-long videos?
Morales, I don't think you know how hot you look laying planks of wood.
Didn't know laying decking would get you so worked up.
Anything you do gets me worked up, keep up.
How worked up are you?
Worked up enough that I'm wondering if your lunch can be extended or whether I should go for an afternoon nap.
Your code for naps is broken. I know what that means now.
I trust you with my secret. Especially since you love my naps.
I do. But then I love everything about you.
Am I going for a nap alone, Morales?
No, but start without me, but do not finish.
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Did you send flowers to my house?
The card saying Frankie didn’t give it away?
I got a card saying Maurice. Are you telling me your name is Maurice Francisco Morales?
Fuck. They must have misheard me when I called them at drop-off.
Well, they’re lovely, Maurice. I’m very excited to be wined and dined by you—are you sure 8pm isn’t too late for you?
Hilarious.
Do you have to be careful of what you eat? In case you’re up all night.
I’m hoping to be up all night anyway.
You mean with me right? Not with indigestion.
Have I told you how funny you are?
Not today. They are really pretty, Frankie.
I can’t wait to pick you up tonight.
I can’t wait to forget to put underwear on.
Fuck.
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For the amount of time it’s taken for the two of you to get here, as soon as he holds the door for you, you can see it was worth it.
A thing you feel you should have known before now, when he’d showed up to pick you up with flowers in a nice shirt and a pair of slacks eyes widening at the sight of you—a scratchy, syllable broken fuck, you look beautiful leaving his lips as you try not to drag him into your home.
You only stop yourself from doing so because he’d insisted on treating this like a real date, and not just going out for food. Something you’d reminded him when his mouth slid over yours, when your spine met the front of your door and his knee tried to slot itself between your legs—hitching the fabric further and further up your knees. Chest heaving, already sure that the thin fabric between your legs is damp with want.
“If you do this now, you’ll ruin your surprise,” you say against his parted lips, eyes flicking up, finding pupils almost swallowing brown. “It’s a good surprise too. Lacy. New.”
You were still thinking of the groan he emitted when he told the hostess his name.
Tearing your eyes away from his, you sweep them slowly over the restaurant, the urge to tighten your fingers around his hand almost unbearable as your heart swells with a tender ache.
Because the restaurant is nice, really nice. It’s nothing short of warm, romantic—cosy. Each table is graced with a flickering candle, casting a gentle, golden glow that pirouettes on the walls. Fairy lights drape like delicate garlands over the bar area, the twinkling reflections like constellations in a night sky.
The deep red walls are decorated with local art, each piece telling a story with little tags beneath them highlighting the name and price of the creators as your gaze lingers on a particular painting. It’s a street, one a few blocks from here, Harold’s in the corner, nestled close to the edge, yet it holds its presence with quiet confidence.
By the time you’re seated, the sounds and murmurs of other diners have blended into a soft, melodic hum that mixes with the soft acoustic music. The air is tinged with rosemary with cooked dishes that flutter past on trays with swirling steam.
You can understand why it’s a place he’d wanted to bring you. Why there had been nothing but disappointment in his voice when he’d had to cancel all those months ago.
Your eyes gaze at him as he sits, dropping the stare when you brush your fingers over the leather menu—lips curling into your cheek at the sight of the candle flickering between the two of you.
“Big enough for you?”
Smirking, you bite down a laugh as you unfold your menu. “More than appropriately sized—you undersold yourself.”
Reaching across for you, your hand slides into his—finding itself home as his thumb slides over yours. Staring at the appetisers, the mains, it all sounds far too good, making it far too hard to choose. Eyes scanning over each, unsure what it is that you both want to eat or feel safe to eat—not sure if you’ve packed mints or if there’s a convenient way to brush your teeth between getting back and taking him to bed.
“I think I mentioned it, but you look good.”
“Oh, do I? I… I was not aware. Must have gotten lost in you pressing me against my front door.”
Snorting, he shakes his head, eyes lingering, something there etched and hanging.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
You don’t buy it, gripping his hand a little tighter—tilting your head to ensure your eyes lock onto his. “Frankie,” you say softly. Silently letting tell me to be spoken wordlessly.
“Sometimes I can’t believe that you’re mine.”
Tightening your hold on his hand, ignoring how your neck is warm, your chest and ears, you let a smile broaden out. More so, when his palm twists, interlocking your fingers.
“Believe it, I'm not going anywhere.”
Your lips remain parted, more words wishing to fall, willing themselves to. But you stop, staring at his thumb as it circles over your knuckles.
“Not… even to the bathroom?”
Laughing softly, you squeeze his hand again, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “Well, maybe for that. But I promise to come straight back.”
Smiling, it sliding into his cheek, he swallows before whispering okay.
“Can’t believe I met you because I decided to be spontaneous and try and dabble at DIY.”
Brushing his thumb over your fingers, he grins—that one which crinkles his eyes and makes his teeth show. “Can’t believe I gave such good service you stalked me a few days later.”
“I did not.”
“I don’t blame you Rainy, I look good in an apron.”
Shaking your head, exhaling loudly you lower your gaze to your menu. “Look better in just your hat, Morales.”
“Glad I’ve got it in the truck then.”
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Just finished the project, I’m done. All signed off. No more Mr Grump. So, how’s the second grump in my life?
I’m not grumpy.
It’s okay that you are, your son is on vacation.
I ate chicken nuggets and waffle fries for dinner.
Oh, baby. But was it good?
Ridiculously good. No wonder the kid is mad for them.
Do you want me to come over? I know you have work early and I can bring my laptop, work from yours tomorrow while you’re out.
I’d like that. But only if you want to.
Yeah, of course I do! I get to use my key!
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You still at home?
It shouldn’t make you smile, but it does.
Blooms over your face, makes you feel ridiculous, like you want to kick your feet out from under his blanket and shriek with joy. Because it’s simple; you know it’s a slip-up as he likely rushes from thing to thing.
I am. You/we are running low on groceries? Wanna go grocery shopping with me Rainy? Only if you let me push the cart.
He’d already called you on his lunch, told you how Harold had struggled with his breathing again, that he should be done in an hour, maybe two. I’m not going anywhere. Yeah? You’d only realised you’d been nodding when he called out your name and you quickly responded with a year.
In truth, you hadn’t left his home in four days.
A thing you’re beginning to feel increasingly guilty about. Like you’d moved in without as much as asking. Your things had found themselves even more with his, and deep down—later confirmed when you’d called a friend to catch up—you realised you didn’t even really miss your own place.
A thing which should feel odder than it does; a thing you turn over when you lock his door and head out to him as he pulls up to grab you. It turns over and over, almost folding in on itself by the time he’s parked up and exiting, still telling you about how he’d helped a man who knew even less than you—a thing he hadn’t known was possible.
It isn’t until he collects a cart, and wheels it to you with ease, do you realise he’s made you. Known right under your smile and humour that you’ve been thinking something.
“Tell me.”
Smirking, you exhale, walking in with him through the automatic doors as you’re both washed over in air-conditioning. “I’m wondering whether I go back to mine tonight for just underwear and clothes or…?”
Adjusting his curls under this hat, he steps behind you to avoid shoppers leaving the store. “Do you... want to go home?”
You’re thankful his hand doesn’t move from your back, allowing you to root yourself to it, letting him lead you to the fresh produce.
“I don’t want to overstay my welcome, that’s all.” You watch as he grabs a plastic bag, glancing at you. An unreadable expression gliding across his face. “What?”
“Baby, if I could have my way, I’d never let you leave.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m really fuckin' not.”
Swallowing, you feel a flutter. A spread of warmth slides out across your chest and through your lungs—the same one you feel when he looks at you for a little longer than normal. When his smile catches yours when you’re talking to Benny and he’s fetching drinks with Will.
Watching him tie the bag, placing it down carefully, he straightens back up.
“Do you want to go home tonight?”
Biting your lip, you shake your head. “I’m also worried if I stay for another week, like I want to, it’ll be really hard when I do go back.”
Snorting, he ties another bag—an assortment of shades beginning to make a pile in one corner. “So, for your sake—and mine—I should tie you to my bed?”
Glancing around, mouth open and eyes wide, you smirk. “Francisco.”
Shrugging, he grins, grabbing the end of the cart, leading you to another aisle—one quieter, fewer people.
“If I had brought my croissant pajamas, you’d want me to go home.”
Holding up two items to you, you point at one as he nods in agreement, shelving the other where he found it and adding the other to the cart. “Your croissant pajamas?”
Licking your lips, you pretend to be enamoured with some dried sauces. “Well, I have my sexy ones where I aim to be naked, then my cute-but-he-could-still-make-me-naked ones, and then I have my food ones.”
“The fact you’ve not shown me these before now upsets me.”
Laughing, you feel him tug on the cart, as you reluctantly follow. “Because you want to laugh?”
“No, because I think you’ll look hot in them and then I can see how many puns I can do before my mouth is between your thighs.”
He makes sure to look over his shoulder at the last part. A thing you both like and rather loathe all at once, especially here—in a place with people. Where you can smother your little tells, but likely not hide them well enough from him and the way he knows you so well.
“I do really like your cockiness.”
“Oh, Rainy. I know you like the first four letters of that last word.”
Nudging the cart into him, his laugh makes your chest bloom. Almost explode. A sound you’ve had the chance to experience in person more lately—a treat, a thing you’re not sure if you can so easily give back up.
“You fancy something in particular for dinner?”
“Not sure—we should buy dinosaur-shaped nuggies, though.”
Adjusting his hat, he comes to a stop before some frozen doors. “I can grab those before Luca is back—”
“For us, Morales.”
Narrowing his eyes, Frankie slowly tilts his head. “You been eating dinosaur nuggies, Rainy?”
“I cannot confirm or deny. But I will say there’s not an age on dinosaur nuggies.”
“Fuck, you have! You like dinosaur nuggets.”
Shrugging, mirroring him from before, his gooey smile slides up into one cheek—making that dimple appear, making it hard not to reach out and brush it with your finger and then your lips.
“We should buy some granola—maybe fruit? Be adult-like.”
Rocking his head from side to side, he shrugs, nodding,
“Hey,” you say, passing some cakes—large ones, lots of frosting, “It’s your birthday soon, isn’t it?”
Tearing his eyes from a shelf, thinking, he slowly nods.
“And, does that mean it’ll be your sixth year too?”
Fingers sliding over the cart handle, waiting, not pushing, he slowly grabs a box, placing it down with the other things, before moving closer around the cart. “You remembered?”
“Well, I love you, Morales. What’s important to you is important to me.”
Nodding, he scratches at his arm, momentarily looking lost in the cereal aisle. Like he's shrunk, lost. The shadow of his smile having faded, almost flattening to a thin line.
“Frankie?” you ask, watching in real-time as he comes back to you.
Like the world goes from black and white to colour.
“Do you... want to do anything for it?”
“My birthday?”
Smiling, you look down briefly before meeting his gaze. “No, your six years.”
Shrugging, he picks up a box, stares at the back of it, likely pretending to read it. To be in awe of it.
“What if I said I wanted to do something for it? To celebrate you. Would that be too much?” You wait a beat, watching him re-shelve the box, and his Adam's apple bobs in his neck. “It can be small. Just us. I can even just get you a cake, but no candle, of course.”
Snorting, he runs his palm along his chin. “Of course.”
“Think about it. Let me know,” you say, pushing the cart closer, nudging him with the end of it as he flicks his eyes to you.
And then it's slow, cautious.
Begins with a gradual lift of his knuckles under your chin when he's beside you, tipping your mouth up to meet his—and you swear you taste a thank you on your lips as he kisses you. As he places another, and another. Your hand slips to his lower back, feeling yourself want to turn and momentarily forget how public the two of you are, when you feel him ghost his mouth over yours, eyes slowly opening, practically drinking you in.
“Don’t go home just yet,” he says, your lips rolling together, fingers slowly splaying out on his back. “Unless you want to go, that is.”
“I don’t.”
“Then stay.”
“Okay.”
He doesn’t step back, not immediately, whispering an okay himself as his eyes flick from one of yours to the other. “Please bring your food pajamas.”
“You gonna promise me you’ll still love me?”
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, sliding your other hand from the cart as he steals it from under you, he grins. “Forever and ever.”
“I might hold you to that.”
He just grins. A knowing grin.
You find you don't hate the look one bit.
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NEXT CHAPTER ->
we're almost to the end of this pair, and that hurts my soul. i'm going to miss them so much. thank you for all the support until now, and going forward. i adore each of you for coming along this ride with me, even if all i gave you was hardware frankie and some texts.
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munson-blurbs · 1 year
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15
Summary: You and Eddie finally get some much-needed alone time, and a confrontation at the Hawkins Preschool talent show tests your commitment to each other.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), protected p in v, fingering, oral (m! receiving), lil bit of edging, broken condom, breeding kink, mentions of Eddie's past, bullying, fighting, Jason Carver's mere existence, mostly fluff and smut before the angst of the next two chapters
WC: 9.2k
Chapter 15/20
Divider credit to @saradika Cutie pie Eddie pic credit to @/sunceddie
--
You wake up to an alarm set a full hour later than it typically is on a Friday morning, and the extra rest has you walking on air. Or maybe this newfound floatiness comes from knowing Eddie will be arriving soon, the two of you playing hooky from work to spend the day together. Your insides ignite with a rebellious fire, like you’re skipping class to smoke cigarettes underneath the bleachers, rather than taking a paid sick day that you’ve rightfully accrued.
Sunlight streams through the window, just a bit brighter than the usual smears of pink and orange that you normally see when you awaken. And while you still have to drag your yet-to-be-caffeinated body out of bed, the walk to the bathroom seems slightly less daunting. 
You can’t let Eddie in fast enough when the intercom buzzes thirty minutes later. You were never naïve to the fact that dating a parent would mean having less privacy; what you didn’t know was how strongly you’d crave him. 
Your hands are all over him the moment he steps through the door, simultaneously too much and not enough. Fingers lazily drape across the nape of his neck, and you can feel that his hair is already frizzy from the early April rain. Your breath hitches when you catch a glimpse of the burgeoning outline along the seam of his gray sweatpants. 
His lips find yours easily, aiming to meet in the middle, but you press on your toes and bring your core to his. Your pajama top is thin; not sheer, but flimsy enough that he can feel the way you react to the chill of his leather jacket. 
“Hello to you, too,” he murmurs with a laugh, muffled by a kiss that catches him off-guard. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab breakfast first, but—”
You shake your head, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the bedroom. “Sex first, food later.”
“Yes ma’am.” He uses his free hand to apply a quick smack to your ass, mesmerized at the way the supple flesh ripples underneath the flannel pants. Jesus, you’ve got him half-hard and you’re still in your pajamas. 
He sits on the side of the bed, and you climb to straddle him, your inner thighs nudging his outer. “Been thinking about you,” you say, tugging his earlobe between your teeth. 
Eddie pulls you even closer, one hand snaking up your shirt to cup your breast. He’s still cold from the rain and early morning frost, and his touch has your nipple pebbling. “What about me?” 
“Well,” you trill, starting to slowly grind against the tented fabric of his pants. He exhales, a shiver of anticipation coursing through his veins. “I believe I promised my rockstar a reward for his amazing gig.” Your thoughts flit back to the night of Will’s party, when you’d snuck backstage and gotten a glimpse of him, his body pulsating with nerves that had almost immediately quelled at your touch. Another sensation had swept over him then, but that was an entirely different type of flutter.
Eddie nudges his nose against yours, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Your rockstar?” He adores the phrasing. Yours. Belonging to you. And you belong to him; he won’t ever allow you to forget it. “What kind of reward did my favorite groupie have in mind?”
You slide off of him, giggling at the pout he gives you as your body loses contact with his. “Patience, Rockstar,” you warn him, though it’s difficult to contain yourself when you’re salivating just being eye-level with his erection. Your fingers dig into his waistband, and for the second time today, you’re glad for his choice of clothing. You don’t think you could handle buttons and zippers and belt buckles. Not today.
He hisses when your palm brushes along his hardened length, stiffening even while covered by his boxer briefs. A small wet patch marks his tip, leaking precum, and you press a chaste kiss to it. Almost instantly, you feel the tendrils of his thigh hair against your bare arms as his legs reflexively snap shut like a Venus flytrap catching its prey. 
“Too much?” you mumble against his happy trail. While you relish in the thought of overstimulating him, you want to keep him on edge as long as you can. 
Eddie shakes his head, curls scratching against his shoulders. “Jus’ wasn’t expecting it. ‘Cause you were using your hands, but then I felt your…never mind, I’m gonna shut up now.” He settles back into the mattress and eagerly awaits your next move.
You don’t make him wait long, lips drawn to his shaft with a magnetic force. You only stop to shimmy his underwear down his legs, tossing them to the corner of the room. His cock is flush against his tummy; you catch yourself staring at the dusting of wispy curls that trail from his upper groin down to his heavy sack. 
Your dominant hand wraps around the base while the other leans on his thigh for balance. You lean in and spit, letting your saliva dribble down his length before flattening your tongue to lick up the pearly bead forming at the tip. Eddie’s abdominal muscles contract and his fists clench, never taking his eyes off of the beautiful woman on her knees for him. 
He lets out a soft moan as you hollow out your cheeks to take more of him into your mouth. A string of syllables that barely resemble words escapes him. “Mmm, yes, oh, sh–fucking hell–thas’ it…” He twists the bedsheets between his fingers, inhaling sharply as your tongue glides up and down his cock. “S’pretty, fuck, gorgeous girl.” He watches intently, staving off blinks so he doesn’t miss a moment of him disappearing between your lips.
He’d once thought that he could never want more than sloppy post-gig hook-ups in dive bar bathrooms with girls whose names he’d never learned, though he wouldn’t have made an effort to remember them anyway. Girls who had only offered their mouths so they could lay claim to his body; the opportunity to brag that they’d blown Eddie Munson before he got famous.
That was before you, before you’d shown him the intoxicating mixture of longing and belonging, of lust and…
You continue drawing him closer and closer to his orgasm, nose grazing his thatch of pubic hair. His hips buck slightly, but your mouth is so full of him that it threatens to evoke your gag reflex. 
“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Eddie blurts out, unfurling a hand from the sheets to cup your cheek. He pulls out, allowing you to take a deep breath. 
You shake your head. “I liked it,” you tease with a wicked grin, wasting no time assuming your previous position. 
“Oh, fuck,” Eddie throws his head back. “You like gagging on my dick? Fucking hell, babe.”
“Mhm.” The gentle vibration has him twitching, and you know he can’t last much longer. You bring your attention to his tip, sucking and giving soft kitten licks while your hand takes care of the rest of his length. He’s so painfully hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed that way long after finishing. 
“Jus’…just like that. Oh, fuuuuuck,” he groans, silently calling upon every ounce of willpower in his body to keep his pelvis still so he doesn’t disturb the beautiful rhythm you’ve found. “Gonna cum…shit, baby, if you don’t want it in your mouth, you gotta stop now.”
But you do want it in your mouth, so you don’t stop, feeling warm ropes adorning your tongue just seconds later. He’s panting, chest heaving as though he was the one putting in the effort, but he still notices the way you swallow his thick load without missing a beat. 
“Did you just…oh, my God. You’re perfect.” He throws his hands up in mock defeat. “I can’t…nothing I do will ever compare to you, I swear.” He motions for you to lay down next to him, and immediately climbs on top of you, the sweat from his chest transferring to your shirt. “Off,” he mumbles, pulling it over your head before you get the chance to do it yourself.
His lips swoop down to your left breast, tongue flickering over the nipple, and his dominant hand travels into your panties and expertly finds your clit. You let out a tiny whimper, barely audible over Eddie’s own grunts, finding pleasure in making you feel good. 
“This body,” he mumbles, mouth still attached to your chest, “has me in a goddamn chokehold. It’s all I think about.” That isn’t quite true; he certainly spends plenty of time daydreaming of you, though it isn’t always in such compromising positions. Sometimes, you’re sleeping next to him in bed as he presses gentle kisses to the nape of your neck. Other times, he’ll be cooking dinner and picture you passing him the salt or handing him a serving spoon to dish out whatever noodle-based concoction he’s conjured up. Whatever he’s doing, he imagines you by his side. 
“Can you kiss me?” Your request is timid but dripping with need. 
Eddie nods, bringing himself to eye level with you and closing the gap between your faces. You taste of minty toothpaste and of him, and he curses himself for diving in headfirst without remembering to kiss you. “M sorry,” he apologizes for the second time that morning, and you forgive him with a soft bite to his lower lip. 
Your arms rest on his shoulders and your legs wrap around his calf muscles, desperate to remain as close as possible at all times. No, you can’t stay like this forever, so you’ve got to make it count. “Need you inside me, Eddie.” Your voice nearly cracks, tears pricking at your lash line as the craving for him grows stronger. “Please.”
Eddie musters up a terse laugh. “Sweetheart, I just came, like, five minutes ago. You gotta give me a second to bounce back.” He lowers himself so he can whisper in your ear, “let me take care of you while we wait, hm?”
As soon as you nod, he’s yanking down your pajama pants and panties in one fluid motion. You can’t miss the way his eyes light up once you’re fully on display for him, taking in every centimeter of your body like his existence depends upon it. He starts to shimmy his way down, but your murmured “mm-mm” captures his attention.
“Still want you kissing me,” you say, gazing adoringly into his deep brown eyes. “Maybe you could just use your fingers?” 
His instinct is to protest; he’s been desperate to taste you again ever since his tongue last touched the most intimate part of you, but he can’t deny you what you want. He’ll do just about anything to keep a smile on your face.
Without further hesitation, Eddie’s lips are on yours. He braces himself on his elbows as his hands cradle your cheeks. You can feel the heat of his cock, still spent and flaccid, against the top of your thigh. He shifts slightly so he can press one thick finger into your pussy, dragging in and out so deliciously that you barely notice his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss as you moan.
“Y’like that?” It’s a gratuitous question; he can feel how much you like it in the way you’re clenching around him. “Gonna make my girl feel s’good.”
“Call me your girl again,” you whine, punctuating the plea with a gentle buck of your hips. 
Eddie grins, ducking his head where your neck meets your collarbone and sucking lightly. It takes every ounce of strength he possesses not to mark you. He studies the moisture left behind by his lips and wishes it was the exquisite shades of blue and indigo that form when someone’s been claimed. 
He slides a second finger inside you. “My sweet girl,” he coos, just a hint of patronization laced within his deep voice, “you like being mine? Belonging to me?”
Your stomach flips at his words; a gnawing hunger for Eddie Munson. “Love it. I…I love being your girl.” You allow your mind to clear, absorbing his gaze, his touch, his skin. The graceful arch of your back beckons him to move faster, tongue peeking from between his plush lips as he concentrates on your orgasm.
Each stroke within you inches you closer to euphoria. Eddie’s thumb is pressed to your clit, cementing his determination to tip you over the edge. He hits all the right spots, committing them to memory; his own personal pathway to the heavens. 
It’s your turn to grab onto the bed sheets like a lifeline as pleasure surges through you. Your lips coat his in a warm layer of “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” the praise a victory chant to him. He waits until your eyelids flutter back open and your breathing steadies before taking his fingers from your center and into his mouth, licking your release off of his skin like a delicacy.
Your body may be splayed out on the bed, but your mind is adrift; its only focus is the float down from the high Eddie’s brought you to. If it weren’t for the throbbing reminder pressed to your leg, you might float right into the atmosphere.
You summon the willpower to prop yourself up on your elbows, watching intently as he fists himself to temporarily ease the ache.
“Why’re you doing that when ‘m right here?” you mumble, wetting your lower lip with a swipe of your tongue. You can only hope that there’s some semblance of a smile in your intoxicated expression. “Unless you…prefer your hand?”
“Fuck, no,” he grumbles, curls dancing along his shoulder blades as he loosens his grasp to dig through your top drawer. He shoves aside stray prescription bottles and various knickknacks that you’ve been meaning to go through until he finds what he’s been looking for.
He snatches up the teal box and practically tears the cardboard in half trying to open it. The snake of foil packets tumbles out and he scrambles for them, but you’re faster.
Wordlessly, you rip off one packet and carefully tear off the top. Eddie hisses as you roll the condom down his hardened length, more than ready to be inside you. 
“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, pressing your palms to his soft pecs. “‘S that okay?” 
“Is that—baby, if I ever say no to that offer, there’s something seriously wrong with me,” he laughs, already laying back on the bed. His hair splays across the pillow, brown curls swirling atop the cotton pillowcase like Van Gogh’s Starry Night. 
Eddie inhales sharply as you sit above him, sheathed cock pressed to your heat in anticipation. He reaches out and grabs your breasts, one in each hand, kneading them in his palms. His thumbs brush over your nipples, gauging your reaction before giving them a small pinch. 
Your moan, coupled with the way you grind against him, confirms your satisfaction, but he still asks, “Y’like when I do that?”
You offer him a little smirk, cocking your brow as you cheekily reply, “You tell me.” 
He doesn’t have time to respond before you lift yourself and gradually sink down onto him, soaking in every moment of the delectable stretch. Bracing yourself on his chest, you feel him bottom out so he’s filling you entirely. 
“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His hands move from your chest to your hips as he helps you adjust to the newfound fullness. “So tight. Feels‘mazing.”
“Just wanna take care of you, Eds. You’re so good to me; I wanna be good to you.” You bounce up and down, moving your hips so no part of your walls remains untouched by him. 
He’s mesmerized at the jiggle of your flesh as it connects with his, momentarily rendering him speechless before he regains some composure. “You are. You’re so, so good for me. Can never get enough of my girl.”
You clench around him at the title ‘my girl’, earning you a smack to your ass. The sting makes you whimper, and he swiftly delivers another. 
“You’re gonna make me cum too soon,” he huffs, blown-out pupils drifting from your eyes to where your bodies are joined. 
You pause your movements to lean down, allowing him impossibly deep within you. “If it’s too much,” you murmur into his ear, hoping your edge-teetering tremble is hidden enough to effectively tease him, “maybe I should just…stop.” You slide your hips forward until only his tip breaches your hole. 
Eddie’s jaw drops in complete disbelief. “You…you can’t fuckin’ do that to me.” You expect him to push the rest of his cock inside you and thrust until he’s completely spent, so you’re caught off-guard when he pulls out entirely. “All fours. Now.” He emphasizes his request with another spank, this one harder than the rest. 
You oblige, palms pressed into the mattress and toes curled as you await him. He taps his shaft against your bottom once, twice, three times, and then plunges into your warmth. 
“Ah—fuck—Eddie!” you cry, feeling the telltale twitch that informs you he’s close. Really fucking close. And then another sensation—a soft pop. 
He realizes what it is before you do. “Fuckin’ condom broke!” he grumbles, pulling out again—even more begrudgingly than before—and tossing the split rubber to the floor. He opens a new one and rolls it on with lightning speed, eager to be enveloped in you once again. 
“Wish we didn’t have to use those,” you mumble, willing yourself to stay steady despite the push from his pistoning hips. “Be so much easier without them.”
Picturing you taking him raw—you wanting to take him raw—is the last straw. “Yeah? You wanna feel all of me, baby?” he growls, nearly inaudible over the sound of his pelvis colliding with your ass. “Want me blowing my load so fuckin’ deep inside you?”
“Y-Yes,” you stammer, feeling that delicate wave approaching the shoreline, desperate to crest. “That’s exactly what I want, Eddie.”
“Keep saying my name,” he orders, wrapping one arm around you so his middle finger lays on your clit. Every part he touches makes you weaker for him, scavenging for the relief of release.
“Eddie, feels s’good,” you moan, legs threatening to crumple beneath you. “No one makes me feel like this ‘cept you, fuck, Eddie!”
You finish around him, squeezing him until he’s spilling into the condom with a primal groan of your name. He stays draped over you for a beat before flopping back onto the bed. 
“You are…” he turns to you and grins as he searches for the right word, “spectacular.” He gingerly removes the barrier from his dick, tying it in a knot and tossing it into the trash can next to your nightstand. “C’mere.” 
You lay on his chest, the sweat cooling as it hits your cheek. “Did you work up an appetite?” you tease, kissing just below his tattoo of a demonic head, “I can grab us some cereal, or we might have some frozen Eggos I could throw in the toaster.”
Eddie smiles so wide it threatens to escape the confines of his cheeks. “Sex and breakfast? You spoil me, Sweetheart.”
“Yeah, well; we need energy to power us through round two.” You scoot upwards to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, the salt of his perspiration tangy on your lips. “Give me a few minutes, okay? Do you like syrup on your waffles?”
“And butter?” he asks with a hopeful smile, peering at you through long eyelashes that would have had you darting to Bradley’s Big Buy if you didn’t already have a stick of Land O’ Lakes in the fridge.
You roll your eyes playfully. “Yes, Your Majesty,” you say, giving his bare thigh a small tap. “Would you also care for some freshly-squeezed orange juice? I can have the chef whip some up right away.”
Eddie throws his head back and laughs, slowly pushing himself up so he can help you in the kitchen. It dawns on him that he hasn’t felt this kind of peace after sex before; his mind has always been clouded with fears of getting too attached, of saying the wrong thing, of deluding someone into thinking he’s enough. 
“God, I love you.” The words tumble out before he can stop them, and he freezes in place, one leg through his underwear. “Fuck, I mean–”
“It’s okay,” you rush to reassure him, noting the red tinge forming on the tips of his ears. “I’d say that to anyone who offered me breakfast foods, too.” You give him room to accept the out, to brush off his confession as a slip of the tongue. There’s no use in awarding merit to an accidental comment, regardless of what your skipped heartbeat tells you.
He considers it, every synapse and neuron firing at warpspeed. Maybe he could convince himself that it was an accident if it was the first time he’d felt this, the way your sunshine radiates through him and warms him from within. But that was far from the truth. 
“No,” he finds himself saying, grasping onto every morsel of confidence he can find, “it’s not because of the food. I love you.” 
Your voice catches in your throat. You want to believe that he’s reciprocating your feelings, but something nags at you. “Are you sure it’s not because we just had sex? Because sometimes that—”
“No,” Eddie repeats himself, unfolding the waistband of his boxer briefs and walking to you. “Because it wasn’t about sex when you calmed me down after the parent-teacher conference. It wasn’t about sex when you taught Harris how to read and bowl and be a better person than I’ll ever be. It wasn’t about sex when you cheered me on during our last gig, and it wasn’t about sex when I saw you holding Ettie.” He takes a deep breath and holds your hands as he gazes into your eyes. “And even after having sex, it isn’t about sex. It’s about you being the one for me. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips. 
“I love you, too, Eddie.” 
Just five words, six syllables, and he’s a goner. Seriousness melts into a sappy smile as he cradles your cheeks and presses the tip of his nose to yours. “Holy shit, we’re in love.”
You kiss him, tongue nudging his as your torsos meld together. If your stomach wasn’t gnawing for something to eat, you’d start round two right then and there. 
Throwing on just a shirt and panties, you lead him into the kitchen before either of you can crawl back into bed. His hands never leave your body, snaking around your waist as you rifle through the freezer for the familiar yellow box. His head rests on your shoulder as you drop the waffles into the toaster and press the lever down.
“Eds?”
“Yes, my love?” he murmurs, pecking a soft kiss behind your ear. You both could have sworn that there was nothing better than him calling you ‘my girl,’ but you’re unashamed to stand corrected.
“Could you make yourself useful and grab some plates? Maybe get the syrup or butter?” you tease, noting the dramatic pout developing on his face. “What?”
“I’m keepin’ you warm,” he protests, sliding his hands over the cotton fabric of your faded t-shirt and grabbing your breasts. “And you’re not wearing a bra, so I gotta hold ‘em for you.”
He eventually obliges, setting two Chinette plates on the countertop and padding over to the refrigerator. He plucks the condiments from the side door and places them in the center of the table. 
“Cups, too,” you remind him with a cheeky grin, pointing to a cabinet to your right. “No drinking out of the carton in my house.”
“Bossy this morning, aren’t we?”
The toaster chimes a charismatic ding! as the waffles jump out of their slots, and you carefully drop both onto one plate. “Here ya go,” you chirp, extending your arm so he can take his breakfast. 
“Where’s yours?” His brows pinch together in confusion, a sly smile stretching his lips. “Don’t tell me I didn’t make you work up more of an appetite back there. Shit, shoulda had you ride me longer–”
Your hip collides with his in a purposeful shove. “I’m getting mine ready now. Go sit and eat, you horndog.” 
Eddie drops the plate on the counter so quickly that the Eggos nearly fly off, pulling you from behind for a hug that squeezes all the air from your lungs. You squeal as he bites your neck and barks into it, solidifying that he has indeed earned the new nickname you’ve bestowed upon him.
He takes one of his waffles and places it on your empty plate. “We can eat together.”
You grab the orange juice from the fridge, giving the carton a shake before pouring the contents between the two glasses. It’s not until you sit down that you remember: “Oh, shit—utensils.” You start to get back up, but Eddie puts a hand out in a silent bid for you to stay seated, shuffling back to the kitchen. The drawer rattles as he pulls with just a bit too much strength, and he comes back with two knives and a single fork. 
“You only got one—” you start, but he shakes his head. 
“Don’t need it.” With that, he cuts off a hunk of butter and slathers it on top of his waffle, knife scraping against the little squares. He slathers every square inch in syrup, folds the waffle in half, and takes an exaggeratedly large bite. 
“Eddie Munson!” you lightly chastise, still in shock at what you’ve witnessed. “Did you just eat that like a taco?”
“Sí, señorita.”
You shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, my God, I’m in love with a barbarian.” You reach for the bottle of Aunt Jemima and drizzle the sticky-sweetness onto your waffle. “What else is going on with you?” you ask, cutting the food into strips and spearing it with your fork. “Work’s good?”
“Work’s great, actually.” He starts to bring the waffle to his mouth but pauses just before taking a bite. Syrup drops onto the plate with a plop. “I almost forgot to tell you! The regional manager asked me to go to this thrift market in Indianapolis in a few weeks—all on the company’s dime—and try to snag some vintage records.”
“Eds, that’s amazing!” You leap up from your chair and lean in to kiss his syrupy lips. 
He licks a smudge of butter from the side of his thumb. “Oh, but that’s not even the best part,” Eddie grins triumphantly. “The market just so happens to fall during spring break, and I was hoping you could join us?” His bare foot nudges yours under the table. “That is, if you think you can survive an entire weekend running after Harris?”
Your jaw drops in mock-offense. “One of us chases after children–plural–every day. Besides,” you add, taking a swig of juice, “Harris isn’t the one I’m worried about.” You gesture at his partially-demolished breakfast. “At least when he eats like this, he has the excuse of being a child.”
His reply is a flick of his left middle finger, his right hand busy jamming the remaining waffle-taco into his mouth. “And yet,” he retorts with his mouth full, “you can’t seem to get enough.”
He’s got you there: all you’ve ever wanted is sitting in front of you now, the corners of his chocolate-brown eyes crinkling as he stands. You allow your eyes to roam his body; not with lust, but adoration. Love.
Your cheek yearns to be pressed to his chest, your hand resting where the soft pudge of his tummy barely rolls over the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. Your legs crave the connection of intertwining with his. You need his arms, biceps strong from lugging around music equipment and holding his son, wrapped around your torso and keeping you impossibly close. Keeping you safe.
You want to spend hours asking about the stories behind the tattoos that adorn his chest, whether meaningful or the result of sheer boredom. You want to curl up on the sofa and put on a movie, absorbing none of it as you spend the entire duration lost in his lips. 
The brush of his thumb against your knuckles stirs you from your roaming thoughts. 
“Can I ask you something?”
Eddie sits up a bit straighter, hand never leaving yours. “Shoot.”
“Is it…” you fumble for the right words, “why are you like this now?”
“I’m sorry?” His brows knit together in obvious confusion. “Why am I like…what?”
“This,” you repeat, gesticulating at the man before you, warm and tender and completely unlike the stranger you’d hooked up with nearly eight months ago. “Why is the guy who once kicked me out of his apartment currently having breakfast with me half-naked and inviting me on a trip with his son?” Your tone is inquisitive, curious, and Eddie heaves a silent sigh of relief when he doesn’t detect a hint of judgment. 
He doesn’t answer your question outright; instead, he poses his own: “Do you not believe that I love you?” He bites his lower lip, mind churning with the early memories you’d made together, the ones he wishes he could lock away and never remember. 
Your heart lurches at your accidental implication. “I do! Shit, Eddie, I know you love me. And I love you, too.” You pause to lift his hand to your mouth, leaving the gentlest of kisses along his fuzzy knuckles. “I guess I just wanna know why you even let yourself love me. Why you didn’t stick to the Cat-and-Mouse. Why…why you chose me.” 
He exhales, an incredulous huff of laughter passing through his lips. “You wanna know why I started only having one-night stands? Or why I stopped?”
“Both?” you try.
“So, um,” his eyes look everywhere but at you, “I never really got attention until I moved to Chicago and started playing with that band. All of a sudden, women wanna sleep with me, and I don’t have to, like, beg them.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “But they didn’t really want to fuck Eddie Munson; they just wanted to fuck the lead singer and guitarist of Hard Knox. Didn’t matter if it was me or some other random guy.
“One night, I’m…y’know…with this one girl, and I asked her to say my name.” His cheeks tinge red and he swallows hard. “And she looks at me with these wide eyes, and I realized she didn’t even fucking know it.”
“Did you know hers?” The question comes out before you can stop it, but you already know the answer.
He rubs his eyes with his whole palm. “After that, I realized that the only difference between the Eddie who got laid and the Eddie who didn’t was that no one I slept with really knew me. And if they ever figured out that I’m just this big ol’ nerd who spent high school playing Dungeons & Dragons, they’d…” He flexes his hands to make a poof! motion. “So I decided not to let them get to know me.”
“But then…”
“But then,” he acquiesces, “you show up at the bar, looking like a goddamn dream, and I put up that cocky lead singer persona on instinct. Because that’s the only version of me that women ever wanted to be with.” He sighs. “And then I let my guard down, ask you to spend the night, and I’m thinking, ‘I gotta get her outta here before she sees who I really am. Before she sees that I’m not a rockstar; I’m just a mediocre dad who sells weed to scrape by.’”
You move so quickly that you practically knock over your chair, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around the top of his chest. Your chin rests on his scalp, and he can feel the vibration in your throat as you murmur, “nothing about you is mediocre, Eddie Munson.”
 He lays his head on your forearm, kissing it softly before lacing his fingers with yours. “Sometimes, I think I’m just buying time until you get sick of me.”
You shift your position so your lips can brush the side of his neck. “I didn’t fall for the guy on stage that night. I mean, yeah, you looked incredibly hot,” you tease and nip at his collarbone, “but I’m in love with Eddie Munson: the man who gets excited when his son reads a new word, who teases me for liking olives on my pizza, who knows the lyrics to every song ever made–including the ones he claims to hate.”
“Well, Eddie Munson–the real Eddie Munson–is so goddamn lucky to be loved by you.” He turns so he’s facing you, strong hands on your hips as he gazes up with starry eyes. 
You cradle his cheeks, stooping down so your noses touch. “You deserve to be loved.”
“Yeah.” The word is more breath than sound. “Yeah, I think I’m finally starting to believe that.” 
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The remainder of your day is spent having copious amounts of sex; Eddie had insisted on ‘making up for lost time,’ taking breaks only for a quick lunch and a shower. 
“Come with me to pick up Harris,” Eddie says as he wraps the bath towel around his waist. Water drips from the ends of his curls down to the dimples on his lower back. “We’re going to Jeff and Viv’s after so he can meet Baby Ettie.”
You raise your eyebrows in amusement, bending over to dry your legs. “I took a sick day today,” you remind him. “I can’t just show up there in your car, like, ‘nothing to see here!’”
“I’ll park far away,” he says with a shrug. “No biggie.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I mean, I could tell Harris that Ms. Sweetheart was supposed to be with us, but she said no—”
You swat at his chest and he pulls back, feigning pain. “You wouldn’t!”
“Try me.”
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That’s how you ended up hunched over in the passenger seat of Eddie’s sedan, hiding from any passersby who could potentially recognize you. It only takes a few minutes before you hear the sound of Harris’s little voice, chewing his dad’s ear off about his day at school.
“...and then me an’ Charlie traded me snacks, an’ no one even sawed us!” He’s cackling like it’s the funniest joke. “He had my pretzels and I had his gummies, and it was so silly!”  
“Gummies, huh?” Eddie clicks his tongue, “well, that explains the sugar rush.” Their voices get louder as they approach the car. “By the way, Har Bear, I have a surprise for you.”
As he says it, Harris opens the back door and hops into the car, eyes widening when he sees you sitting up front. “Ms. Sweetheart!” he exclaims, bouncing into his booster seat with pure exhilaration. “What are you doing in Daddy’s car?”
“I figured I could see Baby Ettie with you guys,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, a stark contrast to the little boy practically vibrating from excitement, “if that’s okay with you.”
“Yes, yes, YES!” Harris shouts, his words aimed directly in Eddie��s ear as he tries buckling his son’s seatbelt.
“Jesus H. Christ,” he mutters, wincing as he massages the opening of his ear canal with his forefinger. “Take it down a notch, little man.” He fumbles with the belt until he hears the familiar click. He dons a deep voice to announce, “Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times,” and Harris draws his limbs inwards with a giggle while Eddie closes his door. 
“Daddy? Can we listen to music?”
“Mhm.” Eddie reaches for the radio dial, then stops. “Should we let Ms. Sweetheart choose the tape? Since she’s our special guest?” He shoots you a grin that sends a flip-flopping sensation behind your ribs. 
Harris taps his finger to his chin in contemplation. “Hmm…okay! Can she pick Metallica?”
“Not quite sure that’s how it works…” Eddie scrunches up his face and scratches at his jawline. 
You turn around to face the boy, whose curly hair is now identically frizzy to his father’s. “Actually, Metallica sounds great to me,” you say, adding a thumbs-up for good measure. 
“Metallica it is!” Eddie pops in the cassette, the mechanical wheels whirring for a moment before Fight Fire with Fire blares through the speakers. He rests his palm on the back of your seat as he backs out of the spot, tongue poking from his lips in concentration. 
Harris alternates between headbanging to the music and babbling about school throughout the drive to Jeff and Viv’s. His energy seems endless as he hops out of the car and races to their front door. 
“Har, remember,” Eddie calls out, “we have to be calm and gentle around the baby. Don’t wanna scare her.”
Harris nods as Jeff opens the door. “Mini Munson!” He gives a tired smile, stifling a yawn. “Ready to meet your new cousin?” He chuckles when Harris jumps up and down and squeals. “I’ll take that as a yes. Go ‘head and sit on the couch, kiddo.”
Harris follows Jeff’s instructions, and you and Eddie trail close behind him. Jess and Robin are also there; the latter woman is currently holding Ettie, lightly rocking the newborn in her arms. 
“Do you wanna hold her?” she asks Harris, who looks to you and his dad in a silent plea for permission. 
“Up to you, Har,” Eddie says with an encouraging smile. “We’ll help you, if you want.”
Harris nods, shuffling so his back is pressed up against the sofa. He squirms anxiously, kicking his feet as he waits for you and his dad to join him. 
Eddie sits on his right side, and you take the empty space to his left. “I’ll help you hold her head,” you promise him. “You can hold your arms out like this,” you demonstrate, resting your forearms on your lap with your palms facing the ceiling, and Harris mimics your actions. “There ya go.”
Robin carefully walks over and places Ettie in Harris’s outstretched arms, ensuring that you’re supporting the baby’s head before she fully lets go. For a few moments, Harris just stares at the little girl, seemingly unsure how to react. Finally, he softly murmurs, “she’s so little!”
“Sure is,” Eddie laughs, poking at one of her tiny toes in amazement. “Would you believe that you were even more little when you were a baby?” His grin deepens when Harris’s jaw drops in disbelief. “It’s true! You were the tiniest little thing I’ve ever seen.” As he says it, a lump forms in his throat, and he swallows it before anyone notices the catch in his voice. You don’t need to hear it, though, and you use your free hand to discreetly rub his back in silent reassurance.
Harris purses his lips as he stares at his new cousin, clearly unaffected by the anecdote. “Does she do any tricks?” 
His question has the entire group stifling laughter, and Eddie turns pink with embarrassment as he quickly explains, “she’s not a dog, buddy. And she was only born a few weeks ago, so she pretty much just eats, sleeps, and poops.”
“Ew,” Harris’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the last activity, though you’re willing to bet a large sum of money that he’s made at least one poop-related joke today. “So when can I teach her how to play Legos?”
“Not for a while,” Viv admits with a kind chuckle, “but when she’s ready, I promise that we’ll let her big cousin Harris show her how it’s done.”
Her answer placates him, at least temporarily, and he cautiously brushes his forefinger against Ettie’s scalp, smoothing down her wisps of hair. You take the moment to glance over at Eddie, only to find him looking right at you.
Hi, he mouths, though there’s so much more he wishes to say. When Harris was Ettie’s age, Eddie was exhausted, overwhelmed, constantly on the brink of breaking down. He’d sworn to himself and anyone else who would listen that he’d never go through the newborn stage again, but he’s mesmerized by the sight of you and Harris cuddling a baby. He wants this, he wants this with you, sleepless nights and spit-up stained clothes no longer strong enough deterrents.
Hi, you mouth back, suppressing words that ache to spill from your lips. Your pulse quickens at the way Eddie watches his son, not with scrutiny, but with admiration and awe, as though he can’t believe he’d created such a wonderful little human. Teaching children never translated over to a desire for motherhood, but you can suddenly picture yourself helping Harris hold your baby, a baby that symbolizes the love between you and Eddie.
“They look like a little family.” Robin’s attempted whisper grabs your attention; a brief scan of the room shows that everyone else is looking at her, too. Her cheeks flush a deep red and she mutters, “sorry,” swooping in to scoop Ettie into her arms. 
An awkward silence hangs in the air until Jess clears her throat. “How was work today?” she asks you, and though you don’t have an actual answer to the question, you’re grateful for the subject change.
“I took the day off,” you reply nonchalantly. “Wanted to catch up on rest, y’know…” You trail off, hoping your non-answer suffices.
“What about you, Ed?” Jeff tries.
“Oh, uh,” Eddie stammers, nervously running a hand through his hair, “I also took the day off.”
Jeff’s gaze flits between the two of you until he finally manages an elongated, “…cool.” 
Luckily, Harris is oblivious to the adults’ conversation. “Uncle Jeff, are you coming to my talent show next week?”
“Talent show?” Jeff glances at Eddie with an amused smirk. 
“Uh, yeah, ‘s this parent-kid thing at his school,” Eddie hurriedly explains, trying not to trip over his words. He’s still stuck on what he’s implied by admitting that he’d also called out of work. “I didn’t know how busy you’d be with Ettie—”
Viv smiles. “I think he can sneak out for an hour to see his favorite nephew.”
“Robs and I can help out here if you need,” Jess offers to her sister, “as long as Jeff brings the camcorder so we have video evidence of this performance.”
“Absolutely not.” Eddie shuts the idea down immediately, but his protest is drowned out by the sound of Harris cheering. 
“Daddy and I are gonna—”
Eddie claps a ringed hand over his son’s mouth. “It’s a surprise.” He looks at you for a moment, bashfulness infiltrating his expression with a timid smile and downcast eyes, and you realize that the surprise is for you. 
Harris wriggles out of Eddie’s grasp with a discontented sigh, sliding off the couch and onto thr floor. “I didn’t tell Ms. Sweetheart,” he protests, and Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose as he gathers any remaining patience. 
Ettie puckers up her face and lets out a wail that seems far too big for her teeny body, but it serves as the perfect reason to leave. You hug everyone goodbye and give the cranky baby’s feet a gentle tickle before you head out the door. Harris gallops ahead, giving Eddie the opportunity to guide you with a soft press of his hand to the small of your back. Before he's fully outside, he leans in to Jeff, whispering “I told her,” ending the statement with a grin. 
“My man!” Jeff grabs Eddie’s shoulder and gives it a small shake. “Let me know when to buy my tux for the wedding.”
“Jesus, you sound like Harris.”
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Spending time at Hawkins Preschool outside of contracted work hours would normally be a scenario straight out of a nightmare. This afternoon; however, you’re here to see the most adorable little boy and his handsome dad perform some sort of mystery talent, which makes it all worthwhile.
The cafeteria has been transformed into an auditorium of sorts, with neat lines of metal folding chairs replacing the long tables that typically fill the space. An area at the front of the room has been sectioned off for the performances, and the entire place is abuzz with excitement about the adorableness that is about to ensue.
You spot Jeff and Wayne sitting in the third row from the back and you give them a little wave, bounding over to take the empty seat to Jeff’s left. The smile on your lips quickly transforms into a frown when you see him shake his head, placing his palm on the chair.
“I’m under strict orders to make sure you sit in the front row,” he says with a knowing smirk. He shoos you away, and you begrudgingly turn from their familiar faces, but not before catching a twinkle in Wayne’s eyes. 
Soon after you find a seat close to the makeshift stage, Principal Sinclair steps up to the microphone. 
“Welcome, friends and family, to our annual talent show fundraiser!” There’s a polite smattering of applause before she speaks again. “Our students—and their parents—have quite a show for you all. First up is Miss Abigail Carver and her mom, Chrissy, who will be performing a cheer routine!”
You clap as Abby and Chrissy step out, green and yellow pom-poms in hand. Your student recognizes you immediately, running over to give you a quick hug that elicits a resounding aww from the audience members.  She rushes back to her spot as she and her mother cheer on the Hawkins Tigers in unison. 
Next is another student of yours, Joshua Harrington. His dad hoists a Fisher Price basketball hoop and places it on the ground so the two of them can show off their “slam dunks.”
After a few more students from other classes, it’s finally the moment you’ve been waiting for. 
“Please welcome Harris Munson and his dad, Eddie, who will be singing a song!”
No sooner do you call out, “Yay, Harris!” do you hear it:
“Freak.”
It’s low enough that no one else catches it; you probably wouldn’t have, either, if the culprit wasn’t sitting directly behind you. You turn around to see Jason Carver, camcorder by his side, poorly stifling a snicker. 
Your hands clench, balled into fists, so tight that you feel your fingernails digging into your palms. It’s too tempting to smash his camera—no, smash his stupid face—but you inhale and then exhale for three seconds apiece. Today is about Harris and Eddie, and no overgrown bully is going to ruin that. 
Still, you have to bite back a smile at the thought of Jason sporting a black eye, courtesy of the Freak’s girlfriend herself. 
When Harris and Eddie take to the performance space, your anger evaporates and your heart becomes heavy with emotion. Harris is front and center, body slightly turned as he watches his dad get settled on a wooden stool and gives his acoustic guitar a tune. The boy dons a black suit that’s a size too big for him, his hands barely peeking out of the sleeves. He’s got on a tie that has to have been borrowed from an adult; you can’t imagine Eddie or Wayne wearing one, so maybe Jeff loaned it. The best part is the fedora that rests atop his messy mop of curls. 
“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart!” he says with a grin so wide it likely hurts his cheeks, letting out a shriek of delight when you wave. “This song is for you!”
Eddie murmurs a soft, “two, three, four,” and strums a melody that immediately has your eyes welling with tears. 
“You make me feel so young,” Harris croons, mouth right up to the mic, “you make me feel so spring has sprung!”
To anyone else, it seems like a silly play on the fact that he is, in fact, young. You know it’s so much more. 
“And every time I see you grin, I’m such a happy individual!” 
He’s singing Frank Sinatra. He’s dressed as Frank Sinatra. And you know it had to be Eddie’s idea, considering Harris’s musical repertoire teeters between Raffi and Metallica. 
He skips a few verses, and when he does, Eddie locks eyes with you and offers a tiny close-mouthed smile. 
“And even when I’m old and gray I’m gonna feel the way I do today ‘Cause you make me feel so young!”
You choke down the sob that threatens to escape as they circle back to the chorus. The memory of Grandma’s final Thanksgiving, consisting of singing along to Fly Me to the Moon and sharing store-brand Oreos, soars around your mind. The way she had so easily slipped back into her old self, if only for a moment. The way Eddie had held you and kissed your scalp, protecting you from a force no one could see but everyone could feel. 
“You make me feel so young You make me feel so young Ooh, you make me feel so young!”
The song ends and you leap to your feet, cheering just as loudly as you did the other night at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin. You swipe at a stray tear and force yourself to look at your boyfriend, so effortlessly beautiful in a black t-shirt and jeans. 
Thank you, you mouth. 
I love you, comes his silent reply. 
You gaze into each other’s eyes for another beat before you feel a thud against your legs. Harris stands right before you, ignoring the way all of the other kids proceeded out the door after their performances.
“Are those happy tears?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern as he notices your stained cheeks. When you nod, still too overcome with emotion to speak aloud, his face splits into a grin. “Good.” His arms wrap around your waist in a hug that nearly has you toppling over, and you rest your hand on his upper back to steady yourself.
“Easy, Har Bear,” Eddie’s voice is strong but tender, and your entire body relaxes in his presence. You want to pull him in by his belt loops and kiss him, running your fingers through his curls until you’re both smiling too hard to continue. If only you weren’t at your place of work, if only all eyes weren’t on you, if only–
“Looks like the Freak’s got a crush.”
A smattering of the audience members laugh at this, no one more so than the instigator himself. You whirl around reflexively, eyes narrowing at the smug blonde man behind you. Eddie takes a small step forward, quietly telling Harris to go back with his friends as he zeroes in on his longtime nemesis.
He’s going to hit him, you realize, noting the subtle clench of his jaw and twitch of his flexing bicep. I have to stop him before he does something he regrets.
Eddie’s hand shoots out, grabbing Jason’s collar and pulling him in with a jolt. There’s a soft gasp from the crowd followed by silence as everyone waits for Eddie’s next move. You can hear the scraping of metal chairs on the ground as Wayne and Jeff scramble to mitigate the situation before it can escalate further.
To your surprise–and relief–Eddie doesn’t throw any punches; instead, he grits his teeth and hisses, low enough so only you and Jason can hear:
“Don’t ever talk about her again.”
He lets go with a small shove, and Jason stumbles back just as Principal Sinclair arrives to break it up. While time came to a screeching halt, the whole interaction spanned fewer than ten seconds. 
Wayne and Jeff reach him first, guiding him out of the cafeteria. The older man keeps his eyes on his nephew, but Jeff shoots Jason a steely glare, insinuating that Jason had better heed Eddie’s warning if he wants to live to see his daughter go to kindergarten. You follow behind and attempt to keep your composure.
“I’m so sorry,” Eddie breathes as soon as the four of you are alone. “I shouldn’t have…I just fuckin’ hate that guy.” His eyes dance with anxiety, not sure whether to look at you, his friend, his uncle, or the ground.
You take his hands in yours, imploring him to focus on you as you reach up to brush his curls off of his face. “It’s okay–”
Eddie shakes his head. “I ruined everything. This was supposed to be about Harris, and about making you happy…” He takes a step back, rubbing his eyes with a low, exasperated, “fuck!”
“Baby–”
“I’m gonna get Harris,” Eddie starts to walk away, speaking to himself as though you hadn’t said a word, but he stops in his tracks when Wayne puts his hand on his shoulder.
“Listen to your girl,” he says simply, motioning for Jeff to come fetch Harris with him.
Eddie doesn’t dare protest, trudging back to face you. He’d fucked up royally, and he knew it. What was he thinking, putting his hands on Jason Carver in the middle of a goddamn preschool talent show?
“Eddie,” you take his hand in yours and give it a squeeze, “it’s okay. I’m not mad; I just wish he didn’t get under your skin like that.” You rub your thumb along his forefinger. “He’s not worth it, I promise.”
“I just…” Eddie mumbles, thoughts too scrambled to find the words he needs. He heaves a long sigh. “I shouldn’t have done it here.”
You can’t really argue with that; out of all of the places Eddie could fight Jason, your job wasn’t your favorite option. 
“Can I tell you a secret?” You press onto your toes to whisper in his ear. “I almost did the same thing earlier today.”
“Really?”
“Mhm,” you confirm, nudging the toe of your shoe against his scuffed sneaker. “And I have a feeling most people in this town would agree with me.” The notion makes Eddie smile, and you continue. “Let me take you and Ol’ Brown Eyes out for ice cream to celebrate your amazing performance. Please?” You throw a puppy-dog look his way, though he needs little convincing.
Still, a nagging thought tugs at him that he has to resolve before can allow himself to relax. “There might be people there. People we know.” People like Jason Carver and Carol Perkins, he silently adds. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…we can just grab a half-gallon from Bradley’s and bring it home.”
You shake your head, effectively turning down his offer. “I’m taking my boyfriend and his adorable son to Scoops Ahoy, and the three of us are gonna split a fudge sundae,” you say matter-of-factly. 
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Are you sure you’re okay with people knowing about us? Being branded ‘The Freak’s Girlfriend’? Hearing people gossip about whatever the Hawkins rumor mill has churned out?
The sensation of your lips on his tempers the overworked gear shifts in his brain. When you pull back, you’re smiling at him. 
“Positive.”
--
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twobluejeans · 1 year
Text
HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!
charles leclerc x famous!reader
summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.
part 6: reckless, part 5: relevancy, part 4: emo ponytail girl, part 3: dupeee, part 2:wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start
faceclaim: madison beer
ally’s radio 📻: PART 6! #juticefory/n . shoutout to the anon who inspired this chapter, u helped sm and gave me further ideas💌. a lot of tswift references 🫶
INSTAGRAM, july 14
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liked by dannylandopnj, alltoowellcharles, and 321,543 others
f1updates carlos recently in an interview in which y/n and charles got brought up
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sainzpodium this is why carlos is the better ferrari driver
lewishsystem “loyal and trust are crucial in any relationship” wym by that 🤨
hereforicciardo the way carlos didn’t even interact with charles today in the paddock before and after the race
lewisfever lewisystem “it’s hard to ignore certain actions and how they reflect on a person’s character” the way he’s confirming the rumors bro 😭
russeliclassy lewisfever what rumors?
lewisfever russeliclassy charles cheated
INSTAGRAM, july 14
liked by naileadevora, lewishamilton, and 4,567,245 others
yourinstagram surprise. i know u guys are already getting 2 new songs from me with the new midnight deluxe edition on the 17th, but i still have a lot to say. meet me at midnight on chapter 1 for a story that turned out to be pretty…reckless.
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billieeilish already crying
dojacatstreetsera the devil works hard, but y/n l/n world harder
landonorris song’s mid (i’ve listened to it 3 times so far and have sobbed uncontrollably🥲)
yourinstagram landonorris weak (i broke down mid-recording session)
barbiey/n no i cant i’m not ready
INSTAGRAM, july 14
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INSTAGRAM, july 15 (midnight)
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liked by zendaya, authurleclerc, and 6,543,127 others
yourinstagram thank you dearly to everyone who helped bring this video and this wild idea of mine to life... petracollins i truly could never have done this without you & to the rest of the amazing crew who worked 3 very long days & then a very long week... thank you, from the bottom of my heart. i also want to thank lando, who photographed these amazing photos awhile back when we were in manchester. landonorris i love u. reckless, both single & mv, out now everywhere 🤍 🏹
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beyonce So beautiful ❤️
aliensuperstary/n beyoncé ADAM SANDLER?? WHAT R U DOING HERE😭
tchalamet proud of you ma chérie
yourinstagram tchalamet hi thank you i love u i miss u
onlychalamet tchalamet yourinstagram i love their friendship sm
salmahayek nunca dejas de sorprenderme. Estoy tan orgullosa de ti y tan feliz y emocionada de verte prevalecer a través de todo🫶🫶🩷🩷
see translation? salmahayek: You never cease to amaze me. I am so proud of you and so happy and excited to see you prevail through it all.
yourinstagram salmahayek muchas gracias tus palabras siempre significan el mundo para mí. te amo y te extraño mucho. ¡No puedo esperar a verte a ti y a Valentina pronto!
see translation? yourinstagram: thank u so much. your words always mean the world to me. i love you and miss you dearly. cant wait to see you and valentina soon!
90sbabyy/n salmahayek yourinstagram why am i just finding out salma is y/n’s godmother? hello what
bellahadid i love. so happy to see u turned ur pain n hurt into something so beautiful ... only heard some of it and already know it's so special. ok. enough of that. i feel like i've typed more than i needed to. love u! proud of u!
yourinstagram bellahadid u bitch why would u type this? now i'm crying in the middle of a re-run of narcos
danielricciardo yourinstagram you said u we’re gonna wait till i got to italy to watch it with me…
yourinstagram danielriccicardo ….oops?
landonorris danielricciardo you see me personally, i wouldn’t let that slide 🤷
danielricciardo yourinstagram #fake #donthmu #streaks #realonesknow
classynorris y/n and lando teaching daniel gen z slang gotta be the funniest thing ever
landonorris classynorris i actually regret it so bad
yourinstagram classynorris biggest mistake ever. he won’t stop saying bombastic side eye. free us
danielricciardo landonorris yourinstagram L + ratio + bozo
TWITTER, july 15
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INSTAGRAM STORIES , july 15
yourinstagram 7h
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ally’s radio 📻: yeah 😌. people in the instagram story views + the song itself might be a little sneak peak of the next chapter.
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Text
Blood Ties Chapter 14
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Poorly written smut
A/N: The gaps between chapters is killing me. I’m so sorry for taking so long. :(
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You were relieved that Daryl wanted you at all. You had been all but unbearable; crying, always sick, cold. Just constantly needy. You could take care of yourself. You proved that when you went to find him back at the farm. Yet, you felt so helpless. And now, you just wanted him to fuck you so hard that you saw stars. But what would this mean for your friendship? Once that line was crossed, there would be no going back. 
“You’re thinkin’ too loud.” His lips were on your neck, sucking and nipping and licking until you were moaning and grinding yourself against him. The hand on your belly slid up to work the other breast, both sets of fingers squeezing and massaging. He had barely touched you and there was already a fire low in your stomach, twisting and spreading straight down to your clit. If he touched you there, it was over and you knew it. 
“Daryl.” You gasped and whimpered, pressing your chest into his palms, each nipple being pinched and rolled. The sensitivity dragged a hiss from between your teeth. It was a delightful combination of pain and pleasure, and you needed more. Your hands came to rest on top of his, not guiding but simply moving along with his motions. 
He shook your hand off of his right one, dragging his fingers gently down your side then working them into your pajama pants, past the band of your panties. His ring and index fingers spread you open so his middle finger could rub your cunt, dragging your natural moisture up to your clit and then back again. 
“So wet. Pract’ly drippin’.” Your clit throbbed, swollen beneath his calloused fingers. He could feel it beckoning to be touched. So naturally, he avoided it, sliding his middle finger inside you. He met no resistance, your slick providing more than enough lubricant for him to glide in all the way to the base of his finger. Your walls fluttered, welcoming the intrusion, attempting to pull him back when he temporarily withdrew. You moaned and dropped your head back onto his shoulder, his warm breath suddenly against your ear. “Gotta be quiet for me.”
You tried to nod, not sure if you achieved it. The feeling of his thick finger pumping in and out of your needy cunt was just too overwhelming. When you whimpered to bite back another moan, he shushed you, licking just below your ear. Didn’t he know that was counterproductive?
The pace increased in both speed and roughness, and you distantly wondered if it would hurt the baby. You didn’t know much about this kinda thing and found yourself grabbing his wrist to stop him. He growled lowly, his chest vibrating against your back. 
“Daryl—the baby—I—”
“Ya think I’d be doin’ it if I thought it’d hurt ‘em?” He spoke gently, his hand pulling against your hold to continue moving slowly inside of you. “Didn’t get to read all the book but I read ‘nough.” You let go of him without hesitation, and there was no reprieve, the pace back to stoking the flames within you, burning and tingling to the point that you thought you might die if you didn’t cum soon. 
“Daryl. Daryl.”
There was a chuckle against your neck, the rough pad of his thumb flicking over your clit. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, pouring a feeling of absolute euphoria over your body. You were barely aware of him finger-fucking you through the pulses and waves or his palm over your mouth to stifle your screams. It was a feeling like none other, a sensitive blend of overstimulation and pure bliss. Somewhere in the conscious part of your mind, muted as it was, you wondered how long it had lasted. It felt like an eternity, one you would gladly lose yourself within. 
When reality began to filter in, you were rolling your hips lazily against his hand and panting behind his palm. His whispered praise of good girl nearly brought the pleasure surging back with renewed vigor but then he was pulling his finger out of you, smearing your slick up over your skin until he freed his hand from your pants. 
Your legs felt weak and trembled under your weight but he wasn’t letting you fall. You knew he would never let you fall. 
“C’mon, stand up for me.” He pushed his chest against your back to motivate you. It took a moment to gather your bearings but once you did, you were both disappointed and relieved to find the ache still very present at the apex of your thighs, needing to extinguish it while never letting it end. 
Hands on your upper arms, he guided you to face him, wasting no time in pulling off your flannel and then tugging your shirt over your head. The cold air assaulted your skin, your nipples pebbling to near painful hardness. Daryl’s thumb rubbed over one, his blue eyes watching before they slid up to meet yours. 
“Too cold?” There was concern with a hint of desire in his tender tone, his index finger now tracing your collar bone with the lightest of pressure. You shook your head immediately, too aroused to allow the bite of the night air to dampen the moment. The archer hummed and lowered into a crouch, fingers whispering over the skin just above the waistband of your pants. He moved them to your boots, unlacing and pulling them off, one after the other, and then returned to your waist. You shivered at the cold grass beneath your feet but something about being so vulnerable to something made every other sensation more intense. 
“Daryl.” You whined, pressing your hands over his. You tried to push against them, desperate to feel him touching your bare skin. The memories of how he worshiped your body in the woods all those weeks ago did nothing but make you more eager. 
He smirked up at you, giving in to your demands and sliding both your pants and panties down your legs so you could step out of them. Large hands traveled an agonizingly slow path up your calves and thighs before settling on your hips. You suddenly felt self-conscious, something you hadn’t felt all the times before that you’d been with him. When you tried to step back, to cover yourself, he shook his head. In the most surprising move yet, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the small curve of your belly, a misplaced tender moment that almost had you reaching to stroke his hair. 
Just as quickly, he moved on, dragging his tongue upward while slowly rising back to his feet. The tingle he left on your skin almost burned, but his mouth on yours diverted your attention. You couldn’t describe the taste of him. You could always taste the smoke lingering from his cigarettes, but there was something else. Something that was just so naturally Daryl and it was addicting. 
Your fingers searched out his belt buckle, working it loose to leave it open while you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. His cock was straining against the denim but he didn’t seem to mind, too preoccupied with your breasts. He weighed them in his palms, turned his hands, and squeezed them, watching your movements falter under a rich haze of painful pleasure. 
Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you placed your thumbs in his belt loops, your fingers sliding underneath the waistband of his jeans. You didn’t need to look at him for permission. He would have stopped you if he hadn’t wanted it. His pants were at his ankles, underwear along with them, when you unlaced his boots. He toed them off himself, grumbling something along the lines of ain’t Cinderella, I got it. 
“That’s putting the shoe on, dumbass.” You retorted, gasping when his fingers twisted into your hair to pull back, with the gentlest of persuasion, and have you look up at him. If you lowered your head a fraction of an inch, you’d have been able to take him right into your mouth.  
“Careful whatcha say when you’re sittin’ pretty like that.” The knuckles of his free hand grazed lightly over your jaw before he released you, your eyes landing straight on his cock. You were almost positive you were dripping onto the ground after that. He was kicking his jeans aside when you stood, reluctantly, your eyes flickering to his undershirt as he removed his vest and flannel. “No.” It was a quick answer and it was once again enough. 
He didn’t allow the thoughts to linger, on you in a moment’s time and backing you against the nearby tree. His crossbow was knocked over but that only meant it was still near if needed. His fingers were gripping your hips, his tongue delving past your lips to explore the caverns of your mouth despite the terrain being one he knew so well. He licked across the back of your teeth before he withdrew. Hot, open-mouthed kisses were teasing the skin from your jaw all the way to your breasts, his teeth grazing your left nipple before he closed his lips to suckle the sensitive flesh. 
Your pussy was convulsively clenching around nothing, begging to be filled while he adamantly ravished each breast. Back and forth, back and forth. Lips, teeth, and tongue. You were trembling with need, once again more than ready to beg. Maybe that’s why he was torturing you. 
“Please, Daryl.” You gasped when he bit down on the side of your right breast, sucking the blood to the skin for a mark you could admire later. 
“Mhm?” He did the same with the left, completely focused on his ministrations while you were beginning to squirm against the cold bark at your back. 
“Please, just—” You tossed your head back against the tree with a mewl of his name, almost certain you would soon cum again just from his attentions on your chest alone. There was too much space between your lower bodies but your hips were rolling of their own volition regardless. 
“Needy lil’ thing ain’tcha?” Daryl stilled your movements effortlessly, his hands retaining their grip just above your hip bones. A whine worked its way up your throat and past your lips while your fingers fisted into the back of his shirt. 
“Daryl, please.” The last word lost its emphasis, breaking off into a whimper at the feel of his right hand leaving your hip to cup your mound. He wasted no time in dipping a finger between your folds to rub at your swollen bundle of nerves. You were coming apart within heartbeats, your moans swallowed by his eager mouth moving over yours. 
You were trembling with the effort of holding yourself upright when he came back into focus, but the persistent ache was still there. You could feel tears springing to your eyes and tried to blink them away. His damn book probably said nothing about this. Before you could delve too deeply into the concern, he was moving you, lying back on the ground with you straddling his hips. His cock was pinned between your bodies, the length of it spreading you open. 
The archer folded his hands behind his head, raising his eyebrows at you expectantly. “G’on. Take whatcha need.” 
You didn’t need to be told twice. Your pussy dragged wetly up his length. Tilting your pelvis, you were able to catch the tip just right and shift it upward and nearer to your entrance on the slide back. As slick as you were, he slipped into you almost too easily and very unexpectedly. Daryl’s hands jolted to your hips and yours to his chest, punching a moan from each of you. 
“Fuck.” He hissed, his fingers flexing into your flesh. He had told you to take what you needed, you could clearly see the restraint it was requiring to allow you that luxury. The first roll of your hips was a gradual process, allowing you to adjust to him while still alleviating at least a portion of your arousal. The slow endeavor was no less effective on Daryl. 
He had his lip pulled between his teeth, biting hard enough that you could see the red when it began to bleed. You dropped forward, pressing your bodies together, and licked just below where his teeth indented the skin. When he parted them, you dabbed up the blood with the tip of your tongue. You didn’t kiss him, not then at least. Your eyes met his, blue irises a mere thin ring around blown pupils. 
“Move.” He growled, the smugness of moments ago now long gone. Remaining as you were, you shifted your body forward until only the tip remained, and then back down. Two seconds in and he was already reaching to cover your mouth. “Quiet.” The attempted reminder was followed up with a groan. Had you not been completely enamored with the drag of his cock against your inner walls, you would have certainly been teasing him. 
The gentle push and pull, up and down, in and out continued, your pleasure mounted, building into a cyclonic inferno deep within your belly. It twisted and weaved into each and every cell, vibrating just beneath your skin as if it were a living thing trying to break free. You ripped his palm away from your mouth and kissed him hard. He offered no resistance, the hand that you had freed finding purchase on your ass. His other hand joined that one soon after, squeezing, kneading, spreading, and eventually assisting your movements. 
When you pulled away from his mouth, you pushed yourself up, bracing your hands on his chest. That leverage and his hands behind you helped you set a bouncing rhythm atop him that resulted in anything but either of you remaining quiet. Daryl, luckily for you, had the presence of mind to remember that noise usually equaled bad on one level or another. 
He sat up quickly, pulling you close by wrapping an arm around your lower back. With the obscene sound of skin slapping now minimized, he grabbed the nape of your neck and pulled your face to his, effectively silencing your moans. Your hips never stilled, continuing to roll and grind. 
When Daryl pulled back for air, you chased his lips, instead letting your head fall against his shoulder. You were so, so close. You didn’t need any other stimulation, his cock was hitting just right, rubbing that soft spot inside of you that was going to tip you over the edge. The buildup was so intense that you wondered if you might pass out. 
“Daryl.”
“G’on. Don’t wait for me.” He panted, angling his head to press kisses across your shoulder. When he bit down just above your collarbone, stars exploded behind your eyes. You felt like a live wire. It was too much, it wasn’t enough. The only conscious thought was the fear of coming down; returning to a broken world that had taken so much. You blinked, slowly, almost too slowly to be real. 
And Daryl was there. 
He was above you now, unmoving aside from the hand that was pushing back your hair. He tilted his head with that slight narrow to his eyes. 
“Hi.” You smiled. He didn’t return it but his expression was soft. Unlike other parts of him. A slight shift of your hips found him still very much buried inside of you. Your mouth formed a silent ‘o’ before you licked your lips. 
“Thought ya might need a minute after that’un.”
You winced apologetically. “Loud?”
He pulled a face and leaned up a little, tilting his head. “Nah, my shoulder kept ya quiet ‘nough.” Your jawed dropped. There was a perfectly shaped bite an inch away from his neck, red and bleeding. 
“Fuck, I’m sorry!” You pressed your hand over it and pulled it back with a squeak when he hissed. “How the hell are you still hard?” He smirked but said nothing else before rolling his hips into you. Your mouth fell open but then split into a grin. “You are something else.” He pressed his mouth against your yours and hummed, finding a slow, steady rhythm.
“Got one more for me?” His lips brushed yours with every syllable. 
You nodded eagerly, eyes on his mouth while you pulled him back to you. The kiss was more relaxed, gentle. Your hands wandered over his back, the muscles tensing and rippling beneath your palms as they traveled down and squeezed his ass to encourage him to push deeper. When he responded and thrust as far as he could go, a keening noise left your throat and disappeared into his mouth. 
A sensation of calm was washing over you, overpowering the heat that had laid claim on your body back at the camp. You wanted to stay that way forever, with Daryl surrounding you. You felt safe. The losses you had suffered loosened their tight grip on your heart, allowing him to fill that void. You wanted to keep him and never let go. 
When realization came crashing down into the part of your brain that wasn’t fully occupied by Daryl—the way he tasted, the weight of him settled over you, his scent, the warmth he radiated—you gasped, blinking quickly in response to the sudden sting in your eyes. 
You loved him. 
Somewhere between that first encounter in the woods and now being caged safely and pleasurably inside his arms, he had unknowingly encased your heart, soothing the anguish that would have otherwise swallowed you up and left you hollow. 
And he was utterly oblivious.
You bit back a sob and recalled your hands, pushing them underneath his shirt to warm, damp skin of his back. You fingertips brushed over a scar and he froze, holding himself up on his forearms to scowl at you. When he saw your expression, the tears in your eyes, the annoyance melted away into something gentle. 
“Please.” You implored shakily. “Wanna feel all of you.”
He regarded you silently, a refusal on the edge of his lips. There were no words to describe the incompleteness you bore with that thin barrier of fabric separating you from the entirety of him. It wasn’t just about seeing, you were beyond that. It was about his willingness to share that piece of himself with you. 
You said nothing else. The decision had to be his and his alone. The moment he took to stare at you, to study you, felt like forever. Then he was moving, rising up to balance his weight on one arm while the other hand reached over his head to snag the collar of his shirt. Your wide eyes never even blinked as the pulled the garment over his head and let it slide down the arm that bore his weight. He left it there and lowered back to his forearms. 
He didn’t linger, carrying on with thrusting into you with slow, deep rolls of his hips. The feel of his skin touching yours ignited a fire within you, not just the chase of a climax but an overwhelming myriad of emotions that were too plentiful to name. 
Your arms wrapped around him, caressing the soft skin of his back, ghosting over the raised marrs that stretched across the plane of flesh. You watched in awe as his eyes closed while you traced each imperfection with the most tender touches. You fed the desire to show softness to the areas where someone had been cruel and he was allowing it. 
Once you had graced each one with gentle attention, you splayed your fingers open and pulled him close, your mouth eagerly finding his. He seemed to snap back to the present and concentrated on chasing the pleasure that awaited the both of you. He pushed himself up again and moved a hand down to your hip, raising you slightly for a different angle. You couldn’t help but press your head back against the ground and arch upward, giving him full access to bend slightly and take a nipple into his mouth. 
You turned your head, your eyes tightly closed while you gave yourself over to the steadily building pleasure threatening to overtake you. Daryl pulled away from your chest and you let yourself drop to the ground. His hand left your hip to grasp your chin and turn your head. 
“Look at me.” It was a demand, regardless of the tenderness in his tone. “Wantcha to just look at me.” 
You nodded and drew your bottom lip between your teeth. His touch fell away from your chin to press against the grass beside your head. The intensity of his movement increased, powerful thrusts that jolted you against the ground. 
“Fuck.” You whined, your hands on his ribs with nails digging. Your eyes were still on his. 
A sheen of sweat made your bodies shine in the moonlight, beads dropping from Daryl’s face onto your skin. You didn’t mind. You didn’t even notice. You were lost, teetering on the edge while captured by those blue eyes. Your brain was in a fog of rapture. Nothing else existed beyond you and Daryl.  There were no walkers. No blood. No twisted cruel people. No stravation or running. Just you and him. 
And you loved him. 
You were seconds away from the precipice, ready and willing to fall. You closed your eyes and threw back your head only to be pulled back by a gentle grip. 
“No.” His voice was strained and you knew he would follow you over. 
You nodded and brought your palm to the side of his neck, carefully avoiding the bite just below, to guide him down to you. The angle changed, your hips tilted upward and rocking in time with his thrusts. Your bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, panting breaths against one another’s lips. 
“Daryl.” You whined, both hands finding the skin just above his hips. Your gazes were still connected. His eyes slid over briefly to glance at the tear you allowed to escape. 
“G’on. Let go.”
You came with a broken shout of his name, unable to keep your eyes open as wave after wave of raw, unbridled euphoria washed over you. You were only vaguely aware of him fucking you throughout, his choked off groan, but the warmth that filled you brought you to new heights. 
The world came back into focus all too soon, dousing you in moonlight and shadows. Daryl’s head was on your shoulder. He was still balanced on his forearms, trembling with the effort of holding his weight off of you. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach where it had been alight with pleasure only moments before. You dreaded separating from him. While the lustful hunger had been sated, your heart still carried the burden of your love for the archer. Something you just couldn’t say to him. 
He would run. He’d leave you and your baby to fight through that hell alone. The scariest part was that Daryl could walk away. He could survive in that world alone. He had the skills and didn’t need any of the group. He didn’t need you. 
When you felt him begin to lift himself off of you, pull out of you, you couldn’t hold back the small noise of protest. He was already on his knees between your legs, stopping to look at you. There was that curious expression again. It was almost as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to form the words. 
“Need to get back.” He said suddenly, pulling his shirt over his head. 
For the first time since the two of you left the camp, you actually felt the cold. It was seeping into your bones but you weren’t sure if it was from the night air or something else. 
Clothes on, you were combing the tangles from your hair with your fingers as you walked just behind him. He hadn’t looked at you or said a word. 
“What took you two so long?” Glenn asked when you approached the wall. You ducked your head to hide the flush in your cheeks that he probably couldn’t see anyway. 
“Missed a perimeter line. Had to make one.” Daryl answered with a shrug of one shoulder. Glenn nodded but Maggie looked skeptical, her eyes on you. 
“See you guys in the morning.” Glenn gave a small wave before putting his arm around Maggie’s shoulders and guiding her to the camp. 
The archer climbed to the top of the wall, but when you started to follow him, he looked back over his shoulder. 
“No.”
“No?” You asked, blinking up at him. 
“S’what I said.” He wasn’t being cold, which confused you all the more. “Go get some sleep.”
“But, Daryl—”
“Just go.” He sighed deeply before he turned to face you, crouching down. “S’a gun in the bag on my bike. Take it. Don’t wantcha unarmed anymore.”
You held his gaze for a moment longer before blinking and looking away. “Yeah, alright.” He nodded and stood, turning his back on you. 
You passed the camp, Maggie and Glenn just lying down. They didn’t seem to notice you. The bike wasn’t far. The vehicles had been parked close in case a quick escape was needed. You found the gun with ease, checked the clip and then the safety, and tucked it in the back of your pajama pants. 
The loneliness hit you on the way back. Something had changed, not just for you. Daryl was acting differently, but his way of handling anything emotional would give you whiplash if you tried to figure him out. So you focused on yourself. 
You loved him. You’d never loved anyone aside from familial love and platonic affection. This was different. It both burned and chilled you to the bone. It was terrifying. All of it. The thought of being together, your little family. Then there was the thought of him leaving. Just the mere presence of the possibility left you feeling hollow. 
You approached your spot by the fire. Maggie and Glenn were laying just a few feet away. You sat down with a sigh, trying to wrangle your anxiety and push it away but it refused to be bound. You needed to sleep. Daryl was right. But when you looked up to see him staring out toward the trees that had sheltered you only half an hour ago, you knew there would be no rest for you that night. 
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dancingtotuyo · 1 year
Text
Woman | Joel Miller x Reader
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Complete, Rating: Mature/Explicit
Watch her take me by surprise
When she lets me call her mine
Do you ever really know?
Can you ever really know?
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Summary: Joel Miller returns to Jackson bringing back memories and feelings from 20 years ago, but you refuse fall into the universe’s trap again. Your table is at capacity. Adding another chair will only kill you when they get taken away.
Tags: Joel Miller X Reader. Age Gap. smut. hurt/comfort. Life in Jackson. single parent. post season/part I. Mostly TV show canon compliant. TV show versions of characters. playing with the timeline. Tommy’s been in Jackson for a lot longer.
Warnings: descriptions of blood, gore, trauma. Grief & loss. Loss of a spouse. Violence. Smut/Explicit content. Panic attacks, depression, anxiety. MISC canon topics. Chapter specific warnings before each chapter.
Playlist - Updated with each chapter release
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Part I
1. tame the ghosts in my head 2. a clouded mind and a heavy heart 3. pick up your clothes and curl your toes 4. walk with me, i think we’ll find a way 5. sleep the hours that i can't weep 6. play my bloody part 7. when she lets me call her mine
Before - A Woman Story
Five peeks into your life before Joel Miller reentered it, recommended to read in between Part I & II of Woman
Part II
8. a cry of my heart to see 9. the fear of what’s to come 10. hold you from the world and its curse drabble. what's that i see? 11. up from the dust, inconceivable love 12. love with urgency but not with haste
drabble. love will not break your heart but dismiss your fears
Part III
13.with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair 14.in the cold light i live to love and adore you 15.holding my breath for you epilogue. the ghosts that we knew
More Reading:
lover of the light Willa's third birthday
Summer of '03 The bridge: A scene that happen in every universe and also the point of divergence.
Landslide A no outbreak AU: Can you and Joel find each other when society stands tall, dictating what is and is not acceptable? Or will it keep you from one another?
Bonus Content:
Art commission based on chapter 12
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anki-of-beleriand · 26 days
Text
A Heart Made of Glass ch. 18
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Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.
Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision - CarolxF!Reader
Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.
Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story. Thank you for the support.
Nothing ever eneds, I thank you guys for being with me to the very end of this story, I hope you like this last one!
Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue
Epilogue
The first snow of the season broke into the sky without a warning.
America wrapped her coat tighter around her body, she glanced around the hall rolling her eyes when her ears finally caught the sound of bickering down the airport bridge. The hand grasping hers called her attention, and she soon watched the same exasperation in Kamala’s face when the both of them found Yelena and Kate bickering all the way out of the plane with the stewardess watching them with relief.
 “Why are the fighting now?” Kamala finally asked dragging America away, “let’s go before anyone here thinks we come with them.”
America chuckled following Kamala down the bridge and into the airport, it had been this way since they decided to make the trip and go to Ulsteinvik for the holidays. Not something Mrs. Khan was happy about, and she had made it quite clear that was expecting a facetime with her daughter as soon as they got home, of this America was to make sure would happen without any delay.
They soon found themselves in a busy airport glancing at the signals around, before going for their bags. It had been almost six months since America had been home, and more than eight years since she had started the Young Avengers team with Yelena.
The world was a better place, but it was always expectant of a new threat that might as well come from the space as well as a different dimension. In all this time, America had lost friends, and had made new ones, she had found loved and had been part of a family that no one thought would be possible in this time and universe.
Kamala ran excitedly after the bags, speaking fast about all the things she wanted to do and see. America had always wondered how someone could speak so fast but she had gotten used to her girlfriend being a chatter more so if she was about to see her two heroes. America smiled happily when Kamala finally realized she had been talking alone while looking for the bags.
“Seriously? You let me rant all on my own so people would look at me as if I’m crazy.”
“I think you’re adorable.” America replied, Kamala rolled her eyes grabbing her hand and dragging her to the rental cars section.
“You’re lucky you can convince me with your sweet talk. Come, I think I hear the bickering from Yelena and Kate down this way.”
It took them at least one hour to get everything ready and to find a car that would take them down the road to their destination.
America glanced out of the window, and as it happened whenever she made the trip, she started remembering that first time Wanda brought her to Norway. She remembered how scared she had been, how lost and angry she felt at that time, and then how she found herself in the midst of more negative emotions that had threatened to just consume everyone around her.
A lot of things had happened since that fateful day and now America couldn’t be happier with the outcome. After a little more than an hour America could see the lighthouse coming into view, her lips broke into a smile and her stomach filled with exited fluttering.
“Gee, I think we made it just on time,” Yelena said glancing out of the window, “it seems as if a storm is coming over.”
“Well, it is just that time of the year, I’m just dying to get home and have bath, I don’t think I have one since we left New York two days ago.”
Kate wrinkled her nose nodding in agreement with Yelena, America rolled her eyes glancing at Kamala before they finally got a sight of the gate leading to the main entrance. America straightened up smiling, the house finally came into view completely and she found the many changes into the property that had happened in the last couple of years.
The small kiddie park to the sight was right now protected with a waterproof tent that protected the full structure and there was a couple of bikes tightly protected into the garage. Yelena parked the car and as soon as America stepped a foot out of the car she was jumped by a bundle of blue that came at her at full speed.
“America!!!” Tommy grinned at her, her arms wrapping tightly around her waist with his hair completely messed up, wearing a light shirt and pants.
“Tommy!!” America grabbed the five-year-old in her arms and lifted him high, he started laughing.
Kamala softened at the sight coming closer only to see another brown-haired kid watching from the entrance of the garage with a frown and a blue jacket on his hand. America carried the kid to the garage, with Billy still scolding at his brother lifting the jacket.
“Tommy! Momma said not out without the jacket!” Tommy pulled out his tongue hugging America tightly.
“Is that all you’re gonna say, little dude?” America knelt down, Billy hesitated before stepping in and hugging America still glaring at his brothers disregard of the jacket.
“Hi.” He mumbled, America chuckled kissing his forehead and pulling him up in her arms.
“It’s so good to see you again, guys.” America entered the place with Kamala and the others following them inside.
America smiled when she finally stepped inside the place she had called home inside her mind and heart. Her nose soon filed with the sweet aroma of fresh cookies, everything inside the house had been decorated for the holidays with a mixture of colours and lights that made the place looked quite homey. Everything inside the house had changed, the pictures that now decorated the main hall and the living room reflected and spoke of the stories that could be told about those changes.
Kamala found herself fascinated by the place, she had been to America’s home only a couple of times but this would be the first time she would spend the holidays with her family. The young woman made her way to the closest cabinet, and her eyes fell upon a picture of Y/N and Wanda smiling into the camera. They both looked completely happy, smiling while showing off the hand wearing the ring in their hands; right beside that one there was a picture of them in the Young Avengers lair with America right after the young woman had graduated from college.
Every single picture was taken at a special moment, and it was a continuity of stories the family had gone through over the years. Kamala let her eyes fell upon the last picture, her smile deepened when she saw Wanda the twins with America and Y/N on each side of the bed smiling tiredly to the camera.
“America?” You came right around the corner with your phone on your hand, your face broke into a grin coming over to the young woman and sharing a hug with her. “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”
America hugged you back, and you felt how the tension from the last couple of days left her body. The twins were talking in fast Russian to Yelena who was kneeling to make sure she did not miss a single word while Kate watched the scene with a lopsided smile. You chuckled turning to the room, your eyes gleaming happily at all of them.
“You guys are earlier! I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”
“Yes, well, this is my fault, Mrs. Y/L/N.” Kamala said turning around, she blushed under your stare. “I just thought we should come earlier than planned because the weather has been worsening in some parts.”
“Always the thoughtful one, right?” You came to the young woman hugging her as well. “It’s good to see you too, Kamala, how is your mom?”
“She is fine, just a little upset I will be gone for over a month.” Kamal shrugged. “She did tell me to tell you that she expects you will come by next time.”
You nodded knowing how Mrs. Khan could get with the subject of her daughter and the family in general. You went to Yelena pulling her up to hug her before kneeling and grabbing the twins.
“You guys, I’m so happy to see you, now some things first.” You declared calling everyone’s attention. “Wanda is asleep she hasn’t felt well lately, so I expect you to be on your best behavious, understood?”
This time around you looked at Billy then a Tommy, both of them nodded squirming around in your arms until you put them back on the floor.
“Yes, mom!”
“Now, guys, remember what we practice?” The twins nodded their heads, Billy went to grab the jacket stretching his hand towards his brother who made a face but put the jacket on.
“Now, help America, Yelena, Kamala and Kate get into their rooms.”
You stood up winking at the young women, “the twins will help you guys settle down, you know for as long as you guys are here this is your home.”
America came to you giving you another hug, the both of you waited until everyone had gone back to the car and leave the both of you alone. The young woman stepped back, her dark eyes finally analysing the state you were in observing the bags under your eyes and the weak twitch of your lips.
“Is everything okay?”
You sighed shaking your head, “not really, Wanda has not felt well and I am out of ideas.”
America could tell you were really worried about your wife, she placed a hand on your forearm looking around then back at you.
“Have you guys talked to the doctor?”
“Yeah, he made some test and it all comes down to the fact that…” You trailed off shrugging, “they think the way the baby is just like Tommy and Billy.”
“they have powers.”
“Yep, and it seemed whatever powers they had it was taking its toll on her.”
The first time around no one spoke of the complications of pregnancy, no one had prepared you and Wanda to face a pregnancy with a set of twins that had powers whose energy sometimes was too much for Wanda to deal off alone. While it had been difficult, America had never seen the level of concern she was seeing in you right now back when the twins were born. You offered a weak smile shaking your head.
“Don’t worry, go get settle and I will wake Wanda so you can say hi.”
“Nah, don’t worry, I will do so when she is up. Don’t wake her up.”
You chuckled shaking your head, “you really have grown a lot, uh?”
“Of course, now that we are here we can help with the twins.” America heard laughter and something crashing into the ground, she winced turning towards the door. “I better make sure they don’t break anything.”
You watched America leave, standing there for a few moments you then turned around and made your way back into your room.
The place was dark, with a single figure resting on her side breathing in and out evenly. Your face softened almost instantly and whatever tiredness or worry you had felt dissipated when your eyes fell upon the figure of your pregnant wife. When you and Wanda had first come together, you had always wondered if a pregnancy was really possible. You wondered how the miracle worked and if Wanda was ready to face the fact that, perhaps, whatever child that was conceived might not be the same twins she had imagined at some point.
The world, the universe decided to prove you and her wrong.
As soon as you two started worrying about if it was possible or not, the miracle worked itself out and soon Wanda had gotten pregnant. The young woman had been terrified and she had cried her eyes out to Natasha because the last thing she wanted it was for you to doubt what was happening. She was so afraid to tell you her latest mood swing and crazy cravings along with the morning sickness had been an unexpected pregnancy.
Natasha had tried to mediate, but Wanda was terrified, she had tried to gather everything she had done in between the time of conception and the moment she found out about it to ensure she had proof of her fidelity to you.
You approached the bed remembering the day Wanda had told you about the twins. She had cried and you had laughed, you knew it was bound to happen. The other Wanda had told you the story, and all you had been doing was to wait. Wanda had been so relief, she just hugged you tightly promising to you she did nothing wrong and that her babies were yours.
The sleeping form on the bed shifted, you knelt in front of her your hand brushing away some strands of hair.
“Hey, sleepyhead, how are you?” You leaned in kissing Wanda on her forehead, the young woman fluttered her eyes open with her lips curling slightly.
“Hey, what time is it?” She asked groggily, you leaned in kissing her slowly melting into the lips until Wanda was putting you to her.
“America and the others are home.” You mumbled in between kisses, Wanda sighed offering a wicked smile.
“So we have a moment for ourselves?”  She wiggled her eyebrows and you couldn’t help but laugh at that, instead of taking into the offer you rested beside her kissing her face and neck.
“Mostly, the twins are in charge of settling them in but that won’t take too long.”  
Wanda pouted snuggling closer to you, her stomach pushing against yours making it difficult for you to actually hug her properly.
“I love you.” She said suddenly, looking up at you, you furrowed your brow never growing tired of her words.
“I love you too.”
This time around the kiss was a reassuring touch of lips, a simple promise of comfort while Wanda held onto your form with need. You broke the kiss, placing your hand on her stomach the little life growing inside her stirred restlessly.
“How are you feeling, love?” You nuzzled your nose against hers, Wanda sighed offering a comforting glance.
“I’m okay, just tired.”
“Soon, my love, soon the baby will be here and I will be able to help you more.”
“You’re doing enough, Y/N, stop worrying so much.” Wanda could tell these complications had affected your greatly.
This pregnancy had turned out to be quite the ordeal, Wanda never thought this time around things would be even more difficult than the first time. The baby inside of her had been consuming a lot of energy, and the young woman could sense just how restless the baby could get at times but mostly whenever Y/N was fuzzing over completely concern or helpless to help in the situation.  Wanda had tried to ease out your worries, but it was just part of your personality and part of who you were , and for that Wanda loved you even more.
“I worried enough.” You kissed Wanda again, needing for this moment to be special, for her to feel your love through the kiss while making sure your child was also aware of your protective nature. “I worried for you and the baby enough, I don’t want anything bad happening to either of you.”
Wanda cupped your face pecking your lips smiling, “nothing is gonna happen, now help me up because I want to greet America, I really missed her.”
You turned around standing up to give space to your wife, Wanda hid away her winced when she felt a pain on her side. When you turned to her she had already hidden her expression before grabbing your hand, squeeing it lightly putting you to her.
“Thank you.”
You blinked confusedly, “why?”
Wanda leaned back and the smile she offered you as enough to melt your heart all over again.
“For this.” She placed your hand on her stomach, then grabbed your other hand in hers. “For Believing in me, in us, for giving me this second chance. I love you so much.”
You furrowed your brows blinking slowly, your arms wrapped around her placing a kiss on her cheek.
“Baby, are you sure you’re okay?” This sudden outburst of honestly and love was not strange to you, but sometimes hearing Wanda voiced it made you think perhaps something had triggered such a reaction.
Wanda shook her head, grabbed your hand and dragged you to the door of the room.
“I just…I never get tired of telling this.”
You had been successfully distracted, Wanda could see the smile in your face while she tried to hide the pain in her abdomen. Making sure she held onto you she, follow you into the living room ready to greet America and the others while trying to forget her discomfort an enjoy the holidays with her family.
*****
In the next couple of days everyone seemed to fall into a light routine.
You loved having everyone at home, with Billy and Tommy growing up so fast and ready to use their powers, having some helped was always a welcome change. You and Wanda had been working around the baby’s room while making sure everyone was comfortable at home. Kamala and Kate had been ready to help you out while also loving the good share of stories you could share about either Yelena or America.
All in all, the holidays had become a real adventure and you couldn’t be happier to enjoy the time you spent with your family. In all that time, you had noticed Wanda had been quiet with just a few winces that she would brush off to continue spending time with America and the twins. You wished you could brush it off but the fact that Billy had been walking around her with that overprotective glint in his eyes told you there was something else going on.
You dropped on the sofa completely drained; the twins were on the TV room watching movies before getting ready to go to the city with America, Kamala, Kate and Yelena, while Wanda was taking a bath back in the room. You
“Honey! I’m home!!” Natasha entered the place looking around with her arms full of bags, she raised a brow looking around to see you sprawled on the sofa.
“Honey, I’m freaking tired.” You replied eyeing owlish at Natasha, the older woman snorted making her way to you dropping some of the bags on the sofa.
“So it seems. Where is everyone?” Natasha sat to your left, her hand playing with your hair while her eyes flashed concern. “You look sick.”
“Nah, I’m tired.” You replied sitting up while leaning against the older woman, Natasha was not completely sure about your words but for the time being she would let it slide.
“How was your flight?” You asked to Natsha who could only shrugged.
“It was okay, I was actually wondering if I would make it on time.”
In the last couple of years Natasha had been living in France, after he last mission and clear demands for her retirement she had made sure that no one, much less people from any government would find out where she had been leaving after getting off the grid.
“Good, I think you’re just on time, Wanda was getting ready just before we go to the Christmas market.” You straightened up nodding to the different bags now on your sofa. “Let me take you to your room, you can get ready because you are driving.”
“Oh, sure, put me through the torture of driving you and your wife while my sister and America deal with the twins.”
“You know that’s the only reason I invited you guys over, so someone can watch over them while I have my wicked way with my wife.”
You chuckled watching the face that Natasha was making at the moment, she picked up half of the bags while you helped with the other half.
“Please, keep those torrid details for yourself.” Natasha walked right behind you, her mind making a mental note to ensure you would actually have a good night sleep that day while watching over the twins.
“How’s Wanda? How far along is she?”
“She is fine, she just entered the eight month so she is huge and a little cranky about the whole thing,” You stopped death on your tracks turning to Natasha, “please don’t tell her I told you that.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
You sighed in relief resuming your stroll, “I think she has been feeling some discomfort, but she is just to stubborn to say anything about it.”
“A discomfort?” This time around Natasha didn’t hide her worry, the last time had been difficult enough and this time around they had tried to make all the right arrangements to ensure the pregnancy was an easy one.
Tony had helped with that.
“Yeah, I don’t think is anything worth mentioning, but…” You hesitated, your mind was raising red flags, there was something bothering you about the whole situation but Wanda seemed to be fine. “I think the baby is taking up too much energy.”
“So, another powered kid?” Natasha snorted, though her eyes softened lightly. “Are you ready for another one?”
You chuckled shrugging, “obviously, I am not. But I’m just happy to welcome the baby into our lives, I love them already.”
Natasha smiled letting herself be told everything you had done ever since you and Wanda found out about the baby. She was happy to see she didn’t get it wrong the moment Wanda crossed the threshold of that very home to come and ask for help. Natasha had always known the hurt in your heart was deep, and that it would take years to heal, but at the end of the day, your loved for the other woman had been deep and pure enough to just work it out.
And now, after so many fights, so many heartbreaks and misunderstandings, happiness had come alongside peace for the both of you.
“Well, we’re leaving at four, so you ready to make the trip again? I wouldn’t mind if you stay…” You stated watching as Natasha yawned stretching around, the older woman winked at you.
“Don’t worry your little head, Y/N, I’m gonna take a bath and I will be there ready to leave.”
*****
It had become a tradition after the twins had been born.
They had been too small to remember those first times, but Wanda and you always remembered that first time. They were but babies wearing heavy coats and completely covered to protect them from the cold, Wanda had been walking side by side with you, her hand intertwined with yours looking around the town to see the Christmas Market already decorated and filled with decorations appropriate for the holidays. Every year decorations changed, and the Christmas Tree that decorated the main square was usually filled with crazy decorations that brough the attention of the children and everyone in general.
You wrapped your arms around Wanda, the brunette leaned back against your hold her lips curling into a content smile while Billy and Tommy grabbed the hands of Kate and Kamala. Everyone was enjoying the church choir, their voices filling the square with the smell of food and winter.
“Are you happy?” You whispered in her ear, Wanda tilted her head in a way that she could see into your eyes.
Her body relaxed into your embrace with a softening and a gleam you had come to associate with the state she was in. You smiled at her, and soon Wanda was kissing you slowly, the softness of her lips against yours danced for a while until the both of you broke.
“I never thought I would be happy again.” She whispered only for you to hear; you furrowed your brows but your wife eased out your thoughts. “And then you came into my life again and gave me the most beautiful gift ever. So yes, I am happy, Y/N, you are my happiness.”
You nuzzled your face on her hair, your arms tightening protectively around her frame.
“You are my happiness as well, Little Witch.” You pecked her cheek turning your attention to the twins, Tommy was looking back at you two furrowing his brows before turning his attention back to the chorus. “You have given me the most amazing gift anyone can give a person, my family.”
“My wife, such a romantic…” Wanda turned back to the choir clenching her jaw tightly holding her breath for a moment before easing in your arms to try and hide her sudden pain.
While you and Wanda were sitting in the back, America turned to Tommy who was grasping her hand rather tightly. She frowned seeing as the little boy was clenching his eyes close with a stressful expression crossing his young features.
“Tommy, are you alright?”
Billy perked up at the question, he turned worriedly to his brother grabbing his hand frowning at the obvious discomfort coming from his brother.
“Tommy?” Yelena put a hand on Billy’s shoulder to stop him from shaking his brother, Tommy had tears in his eyes lifting his head to America.
The young woman could see the distress behind his brown eyes, his face was contorting into a rictus of pain and confusion.
“Billy��” America started but soon the young boy turned around sharply lifting his hand.
“Mommy!” He exclaimed letting go of America’s hand and running towards Wanda.
The four young women and Billy followed Tommy’s actions, Kamala was the first one to react placing a hand on her mouth her eyes wide open when she realized Wanda was almost on the ground with red mist surrounding her body.
“Shit, what the hell…” America stood up and ran towards them while Kate held onto Billy before he could run towards his mothers.
“Wait, Billy, let’s go slowly…” Kate held onto Billy who was not really struggling against her hold.
Some of the onlookers had also realized that something had happened, many had tried to put their phones out while Kamala lifted a single protective wall around the woman. She and Kate exchanged looks making their way to Wanda.
You should have known that Wanda was not doing okay.
She had erupted into a fit of shivers, before exuding some of her magic and then falling with a hand on her stomach. Natasha was holding her from one side while you were holding the other one; Tommy came right away kneeling in front of Wanda.
“Mommy…” You glanced at your son then at America nodding at her, the young woman grabbed Tommy holding him in her arms.
“Mommy…is fine, baby.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, Tommy shook his head.
“Mommy, the baby…” Tommy started, your eyes open wide in terror when Wanda let out a scream holding her abdomen and crying.
The burst of energy coming from her was almost burning you, Natasha winced almost letting go of Wanda while locking her stare with yours.
“We need to go to a hospital, Love,” You started, Wanda grabbed your hand looking paled.
“Y/N…”
“Mommy!” Tommy struggled against the hold of America, watching with tears as his mom screamed again.
“Damn, I don’t think we can’t move her…” You hesitated lifting your hand, your eyes locked onto your son’s ones. “Tommy, can you help me?”
America put the boy on the ground and he came right towards Wanda, you smiled at him though it came more like a grimace. Tommy didn’t dare to touch Wanda, so he turned to you with big eyes.
“Baby, how is the baby? You can feel them?”
Tommy nodded looking half terrified, half powerless.
“Tommy, is mommy too weak?” You asked again, the boy glanced at Wanda then at you shaking his head.
“Baby, I need you to be strong, you will be with your big sister and your aunty and you and Billy will reach us in the hospital, okay?”
Before Tommy could protest Wanda screamed again, you twitched your hand in the air and the shadows consumed you, Wanda and Natasha. Tommy hugged America tightly, his tears were falling freely getting America’s cheeks and neck wet.
“Mommy.” The little boy whispered, America hugged him tightly lifting him in her arms, she turned to see Billy was now holding onto Kate.
“What the hell happened?” Yelena was as confused as the rest, America leaned back trying to make Tommy lift his eyes.
“Tommy, you know what happened?” America asked softly, the group was already making their way to the car.
“Mommy was sick. The baby was not feeling good.” Tommy mumbled, “she wanted out.”
America stopped death on her tracks, she glanced down at the boy furrowing her brows.
“She?” As far as America knew, you and Wanda had decided to keep the sex of the bay a secret.
No one knew about it, and thus so far all the colours in the room had been neutral colours, or those each one of the family favour. Tommy was crying softly, nodding.
“She is scared, she wants out.”
“You mean, the baby?” America asked once more, Tommy nodded.
“Is mommy okay?” Billy asked, the four women looked at one another then the continued their walk to the car.
“Yes, Billy, she is going to be okay, and your little sister as well.” America tossed the keys to Yelena who wasted not time to go into the car and start the engine.
The hospital was quiet, America and the others came rushing in until one nurse put a finger on her lips glaring at them. America was about to fight, when a hand on her shoulder distracted her. She turned to the source to see Kamala offering a softening stare, America huffed nodding walking towards the reception.
“Hello, good night,” she started in her most diplomatic tone, “I was looking for someone.”
“Of course, tell me…”
“America!” Natasha was coming right in, her pants had some blood on it and the older woman was looking tired.
“Natasha, what happened?”
“Where is Wanda?
“Where is Y/N?”
Natasha lifted a hand, she glanced at the receptionist then back at the women and the twins, she cocked her head signalling a waiting room at the other side of the hall.
Tommy and Billy were holding onto America and Kate respectively, America was comforting the boy in her arms while looking at Natasha waiting for her explanations.
“Well?”
“They are fine, right now they are in surgery.” Natasha explained, she lifted a calming hand to the sudden outburst of inquiries. “Wanda has been feeling the discomfort for quite some time, she didn’t say anything so Y/N or anyone would get scared and Christmas would be ruined.”
“That’s stupid! We wouldn’t care if the baby decides to come first! She could have told us and save us this heart attack.” Yelena crossed her arms looking away. “This is so stupid.”
Natasha let her hand rested on Yelena’s forearm, the young Widow huffed though she leaned closer to the touch. Tommy and Billy were holding hands, the came closer with their eyes filled with tears and their little faces showing the emotions going through them. There was a palpable tension in each and every single person in the hall, the sound of people coming in and out of the hospital alongside the voices of the staff were soon forgotten in favour to Natasha holding the twins.
Kamala grabbed America’s hand leaning against her frame, while Kate hooked her arm with Yelena’s one. The stood there for a moment, America berating herself for not being more attentive and letting those little discomforts pass instead of raised the alarm with Y/N and Natasha and Yelena.
“Is mommy okay?” Billy asked in a thin voice, he cuddled closer to Natasha who nodded briefly.
“Yes, Billy, she is fine.”
“Is her tummy hurting?” Tommy mumbled wiggling the fingers of his hand, “mummy was sad and her tummy was making pum pum pum and not bum bum bum like always.”
Natasha creased her brows at the explanation, she knew Tommy was the sensitive one and he was the one showing magical abilities that would be similar to those of Wanda. You had told her several stories in which the boy would be the first one to know exactly how others feel, and he was always ready to help. He had been the first one to sense something different in Wanda, and was always overprotective of his mother as soon as he found out he was going to be a big brother.
“Tommy, did you see something different about mommy?” Natasha finally asked leaning back, the little boy crossed stares with Billy before nodding.
“Mummy is always shinning,” here Tommy stretched his arms with big, brown eyes, “and she is warm, but…”
“She is gloomy and cold.” Billy ended having heard his brothers theory.
“Is mummy sick because of me?” Tommy’s eyes filled with tears, “I try to be good big brother, auntie Tasha, I swear.”
“Oh, baby no, you’re not to blame.” This time around Natasha hugged the twins tightly. “Mummy is just pregnant and these things can happen to anyone, you did so well protect mummy with Billy.”
“That’s right, Little dude, it’s just that your sibling wants to be born now, it is nothing else.” This time around it was Kate the one saying this, she knelt placing her hand on Tommy’s back.
“You guys are amazing, and right now that baby is going to be the luckiest one having such brave big brothers like the both of you.” Yelena continued placing her hand on Billy’s head.
The twins seemed to calm down under these words, both of them holding onto Kate and Yelena who decided to take them for a little walk to the hospital cafeteria. Natasha waited until they were far away before turning to America, the young woman had the same concern stare as the twins thought she was tyring to hide it behind a façade of faux bravery.
“How are they, really?”
Natasha sighed pointing to the closest chairs leading America and Kamala there.
“Wanda was in pain, her blood pressure dropped and by the time the doctor could do a quick checkup he decided the best option was for a c-section.”
“How is Y/N? Can we see them? What about the baby?” America was bouncing on the chair, her left leg was raising rapidly as she tapped the ground with her heel.
Kamala placed a soothing hand on her leg, leaning closer with her eyes on Natasha. America leaned into the touch dropping her eyes while taking a deep breath, Natasha saw as the young woman started taking deep breaths glancing at Kamala while offering a weak smile.
“Wanda is in surgery right now, they allowed Y/N to be there.” Natasha leaned back, she took a deep breath placing a hand on her eyes. “The doctor said this is normal, and that up until two weeks ago everything was just fine with the pregnancy, I guess having a powered child is really far too much sometimes.”
“Is she gonna be okay? What about the baby?” This time it was Kamala the one asking the questions, Natasha dropped her hand turning green eyes to the young woman.
“They are going to be fine, but we will have to wait.”
*****
 It was past midnight by the time you finally could sit down on the hospital chair.
Your arms were holding the small frame of your daughter, a beautiful baby girl that was fast asleep with a crunched-up nose and closed fists. You held the baby closer to your chest, tears in your eyes while Wanda slept; you had never be so scared before that moment. The fact that Wanda had hidden her pain, and then the news that the surgery could be a dangerous ordeal and probably stressful for both, the baby and Wanda, left you powerless to do anything at all.
It had taken less than a couple of hours for you to almost lose your baby and your wife.
Your heart shrank painfully inside your chest, the heavy void that settled in your abdomen was still tingling inside your body.
“You gave us quite the scare, baby girl.” You whispered poking the kid on her nose, softening the moment she wriggled her nose but kept sleeping in your arms.
There was a knock on the door, but before you could say anything at all the door opened and you could see your friends and family coming on. Your eyes lit up watching as Billy and Tommy came to you rubbing their eyes, their steps were tentative and their eyes were searching around until they found the bundle in your arms.
“Where’s mummy?” Tommy asked in a groggy voice, you glanced at Natasha then at Tommy and Billy.
“Mummy is still with the doctor, baby.” You leaned forward nodding to the twins. “You guys wanna meet your baby sister?”
The boys nodded eagerly coming closer to you, both of them leaned forward being careful in their movements. Their eyes went big, and soon their mouths drew a smile while glancing at you and the baby.
“She is too small!” Billy said with his hand twitching at his side.
“She is.”
“What’s her name?” Tommy asked cocking his head.
“Well, baby, since mummy and I didn’t want to name the baby until they were born, we haven’t decided.” You winced sheepishly lifting your face to the adults in the room. “I guess she would be Baby Girl Maximoff until I can talk to Wanda.”
America approached you, her eyes showing not only how tired she felt but the tears she had shared moments ago with Natasha under the stress of the night. You nodded at her lifting your arms, in a silent offer for the young woman to carry the baby. America didn’t waste any time running to another chair and getting ready to hold the baby.
“You guys didn’t choose a name? Really?” Yelena finally asked watching from afar, while she loved the twins and she had helped raised them, when they had been born she had been the last one to pick them up. They had been so small she was afraid of hurting them.
“Well, we did think about it, we just…” You trailed off letting out a heavy sigh, your hand went to the back of your head scratching softly. “I want to do it with Wanda.”
Natasha gave you a hug, whispering in your ear.
“How is she?”
“She was not doing fine, they took her to the ICU for observation. The baby, she was so healthy and so full of energy…” You hugged. “The doctor thinks is because of her particularity, we still haven’t figure it out and he said if we want he could sent some samples to Stark Industries for further investigation…”
“You want them to dig into it?” Natsha inquired but you shook your head.
“I know my babies are special, Tasha, not because of their powers but because they are ours.” You replied looking while the four women all dotted on the baby talking with Billy and Tommy while making fun of America and Yelena’s childish behaviour.
“I guess at some point we will need to find out if it is too much, but for now everything is just as it should have been…Wanda was just spending too much with the baby and since she didn’t say anything…”
“I know.” Natasha hesitated before grabbing your hand. “You can go, I watch over them and the baby.”
Your face broke into a grateful smile, you leaned in kissing Natsha on her cheek.
“Thank you.”
With one last glance to the baby and the twins, you turned around and left to make your way to the ICU.
This was the quietest place in the hospital.
There were cubicles big enough to hold a bed with the multiple machines necessary to keep a person alive. It smelt strongly to antiseptic mixed with blood, the nurse station was lone but you didn’t need anyone giving you directions, you knew exactly where you wanted to go.
Wanda was paled, with bags under her eyes and her hair sprawl on the pillow. She was fast asleep, tired after the ordeal he had suffered early in the evening. You approached the bed, your heart ripping away at the sight; when your hand grabbed hers your blood turned cold. She was freezing.
With fear gripping up your throat, you leaned in placing a kiss on your wife’s forehead.
“Hey, Little Witch, how are you doing?” You held back your sobs, brushing your lips on her forehead. “You were so brave today, love. Our baby girl is so strong, she is with our family and her big brothers right now. We all are waiting for you.”
You lifted her hand to your lips, placing a single kiss on her knuckles you rubbed the single hand in yours trying to share some of your body warmth through the massages. You wished there was something else you could do, that there was something else you could say but at the moment you were just lost.
Never before did you imagine you would see Wanda like this. Bringing over a chair to be as close to Wanda as you could, you placed another kiss on her hand smiling through your tears you started talking to your wife making sure she knew you were waiting for her.
Wanda felt her body stirred painfully.
She knew she should be worried about, though she was not completely sure what it was.
She opened her mouth trying to grasp the air while her eyes were struggling to be opened. There was something holding her hand, it was warm and comforting, she stirred once more and with some effort made herself open her eyes.
“Ugh…” She let out a moan closing her eyes before blinking away the blinding light of the lights above her head.
“Wanda!”
Wanda knew that voice, without thinking too much she opened her eyes and sure enough they you were. Whatever fear or uncertainty she felt moments ago, it disappeared as soon as she registered your voice and saw your frame through blurry glances.
“Y/N…” Her voice sounded rough, unused, and her heart jumped wildly in her chest when you placed a single kiss on her lips.
“My Little Witch, you’re awake.” There was some commotion she could catch with her ears, she wanted to talk and ask what had happened, but the drowsiness was overwhelming and soon she was falling into a pit of darkness.
The second time she woke up, the light of the day was filtering through the blinds. She opened her eyes slowly, first making sure she would not hurt herself or that her body was actually hers and no more side effects of a drug were affecting her senses. Once she had made herself conscious of her body, she went to remember what had happened.
Like a jolt of electricity her hand went to her abdomen and she went to sit up right away.
A pair of hands on her shoulders stopped her from doing a brusque movement, and it wasn’t until then that she saw your face bringing over a peacefulness she only allowed around you.
“Y/N.” This time around the name came dry, but it was clear.
“Hey, Little Witch.” You stood up bringing over a glass of water with a straw. “Here you can drink just a little to wet your mouth and throat.”
Wanda did that, her eyes moving frantically around the room.
“Y/N, the baby…”
She gauged your expression, and while there was sadness there Wanda could tell you were just relief. You grabbed her hand putting some strands of hair out of the way, leaning in to place a single kiss on her forehead.
“The baby is fine, America and the others are watching over her.”
“Her?” Wanda asked confusedly, you nodded and this time around you couldn’t hide your smile.
“We have a baby girl, my love.”
Wanda sighed in relief, she lifted her head and you understood her need right away. When your lips closed around hers your heart soared with relief and love for the woman you thought you had lost. You kissed Wanda with the emotions that had overwhelmed you in the last couple of days.
“What happened? Are you okay? The Twins?”
“Hey, it’s okay, I will tell you everything and it is going to be fine,” you stated raining kisses all over Wanda’s face, “you don’t know just how much I love you, and how happy you make me every day, Wanda.”
“Y/N, what is it? What happened?” This time around Wanda couldn’t hide the concern in her voice, your actions were making her worried but you just kept placing kisses on her while grabbing her hand in yours.
“Just…give me a moment, please? I need to know you are okay, that you are here.”
“I am here, love, I always will be.”
You smiled before wrapping your arms around Wanda allowing the tears to fall, the fears that had consumed you in the last couple of days finally dissipating under the embrace of your wife.
__________________________
New Years Eve came with a light snow, and the glimpses of a cold wintery sun above the sky.
Wanda sat by the window of the baby’s room.
She was sitting on the nursery glider feeding the baby while everyone got ready to welcome the new year. The last couple of days had been a total rush, with everything happening in the blink of an eye without giving time to anyone to process the events. Wanda had woken up in the hospital after being unconscious for a week, the doctor had been monitoring her case and they had made sure she had everything she needed it to improve her condition but, at the end of the day, everything seemed to be up to her to get along with the recovery.
When she finally woke up, she found herself scared for her baby and her family. He could see the devastating effect the situation had on you, the lack of sleep and the deep pain this caused in you was still visible from time to time in your eyes. It had taken some time, bit after a full check-up and two days under medical observation, Wanda was free to go home.
Christmas had already come and gone, and now she was just waiting to start a new chapter in her life with you and her family. Wanda softened her stare when her eyes fell upon the form of her baby girl. She had been a miracle child; a part of Wanda had already sensed just the power residing inside her. It was all consuming at first until it was finally getting into tune with Wanda’s powers and energy. A part of her had always brushed it off mainly because she thought it was supposed to be that way, but after the scared all of them suffered she realized she should have said something about it.
“You’re gonna be a troublemaker, I can see it now.” Wanda whispered poking the baby’s nose lightly, the little girl opened her eyes watching her with innocence before snuggling closer to her mother.
“I surely hope no, I can already see the kind of trouble she will bring when she starts dating.” You were leaning on the wall watching Wanda in silence, the young woman smiled at you.
“Are you thinking about that already? She is just a child!” Wanda giggled when you approached her, your lips had always been a source of comfort and tenderness, your kisses made her heart tingled and her soul soared with love.
“Our child.” You whispered without breaking the kiss, Wanda sighed leaning against you holding the baby tightly. “How are you?”
Wanda could tell the traces of concern shinning in your eyes, she lifted her hand to cup your cheek offering the most tender smile she could muster you with.
“I’m amazing, love, thank you for always worrying about me.”
You mirrored her smile placing a hand on top of hers, “I don’t know what I would do if you were not in my life, Wanda. After we found one another again, you and the children became my everything.”
“I know, love. You are my everything, you and our family.” Wanda lowered her gaze where the baby was fast asleep. “Elizabeth.”
“Uh?” You furrowed your brows turning to Wanda.
“Elizabeth.” She repeated glancing from you to the baby. “A couple of months ago you started talking about baby names, and this one got you so excited at that time.”
“It has a lot of history, you know?” You replied rather shyly, Wanda chuckled nodding. “It is a beautiful name, I just…you meant it?”
“Yeah, you like it?”
You blinked a couple of times before answering, “welcome to the family, Elizabeth Maximoff.”
The baby was still fast asleep, but Wanda felt her heart melting under your words. She could feel your love pouring right out to her and the baby, your lips bringing comfort before you lifted Elizabeth in your arms placing her on her crib. A flash of doubt passed through Wanda’s eyes, but you grabbed her hand putting her to you, your left hand on her hip and the right hand holding her left hand.
“She is going to be okay, I will watch over her with my shadows and we can go and see what you sons have been working on in the last couple of days.”
“Oh, God, Tommy and Billy,” Wanda exclaimed ready to leave but stopped when you held her back offering a comforting smile. “I forgot about them! I don’t think…”
“They are big brothers now, Little Witch, they understand what you have been doing lately.” You nuzzled your nose against hers. “We all understand. They are going to be out there waiting for you.”
Wanda slowed down her breathing closing her eyes while melting away in your arms.
“I don’t know what I did right to be back in your life, but I just…” Wanda had tears in her eyes, you chuckled kissing her eyes softly.
“A part of me knew you were my happiness, Wands. It took time, and heartbreak but…we are here, together.”
“Do you regret it?” Wanda asked out of the blue, you blinked a couple of times before shaking your head.
“I don’t regret a single thing in our past, Wands.” Wanda furrowed her brow ready to argue but you put a single finger on her lips. “I don’t. Whatever happened, however it happened, it brought us to where we are today, if it hadn’t been because of this you and I would have never found our paths again and would have never understood the importance of being who we are, of always being honest…of never give up.”
Wanda didn’t mean for the tears to start rolling down her cheeks, but it happened. You cupped her face in your hands, your eyes completely locked with hers.
“We got together at the right time, and we came back to each other when we were meant to. Now, we have a family, and a life full of love and adventures, a life away from the dangers of the world.”
“I thought you missed it, that perhaps…” Wanda sobbed hugging you tightly. “I love you.”
You chuckled hugging her back, your arms wrapping comfortingly around her. You knew about her fears, she had told you everything about them in her moments of weakness. You were always there listening to her and comforting her making sure she knew she deserved to be happy and that, whatever bad had happened in the past, shouldn’t be replicated it in her future.
“I love you too, Wanda. With all my heart. You and my family are all that matters to me now.”
“You are the very beat of my heart, Y/N. Thank you for giving me my family, thank you for being my family.”
You kissed her with all the love you held for her. Your lips moulding with hers, your hands mapping her form while putting her closer to your body; Wanda smiled into the kiss her arms wrapping tenderly around your shoulders. You pressed your forehead against hers, her eyes gleaming contentedly as they looked into yours.
“Are you planning on the fourth child, Mrs. Maximoff?” You asked earning a light-hearted laugh from Wanda, the woman winked at you breaking the contact while grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the door.
“Perhaps, are you ready for another one?” She asked coyly, you chuckled shaking your head.
“Oh, I am, though I was thinking we could…you know? Have some fun first.”
“Patience, my love, patience always pays, right?”
You grinned nodding, “it always does.”
______________________________________________________________
Author's Note: So, this is the end.
This story was everything to me, and it happened in a moment of my life in which I have to live a lot of things. I grew so much, and I really love the final turn it took. I hope you guys like it as much as I love writing it, and I will see you in the next adventure!
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jedi-luca · 2 months
Text
Avenger Lane Chapter 14: All My Lovin’
Summary: You and your wife Quinn move your family outside of New York City to Avenger Lane; a small private suburbia. There you face your toughest obstacle of your marriage. Will your marriage with Quinn be strong enough when a certain redheaded beauty captures your attention? 
Parings: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader
Warnings: Reader has a Penis
Previous Chapter
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The following Monday you were taking Beth and the other kids to school for the weekly carpool when you came home to Quinn leaning against the counter.
“Y/N we need to talk.”
You nodded, setting your keys down. Before sitting at the table.
“I know I’ve made some horrible decisions, but I love you more than anything- besides our daughters of course… I don’t want a divorce, I want to work through this. Maybe find a couples counselor-“
“Quinn no-“
“Y/N I’m begging you to give us another chance.”
“This was our second chance! You wanted to work on your jealousy issues. So you moved us out of the city work an hour less everyday-“
“Y/N please. I’m being fair here.”
“Fair?! Are you fucking kidding me? Fair? You and your witch of a mother stole my chance at a full ride, and you cheated on me with Berry for God knows how long! Let’s not forget you acting like you were pregnant when your tubes were tied!”
“Like I said I made some horrible decisions but-“
“But what? This marriage is over. I’m going to move out, get my own place, take the job Tony offered me and we are divorcing. I do not want to be with you Quinn! The very thought of me still being with you sickens me!”
“Y/N I didn’t want to do this-“
“Do what?”
The doorbell rang and Quinn looked away as you made your way to the door.
“Quinn it’s your assistant-“
“I’m so sorry about this Y/N-“ the assistant handed you a document. “You’ve… been served.”
“What?!” Your neck nearly snapped looking over at Quinn as her assistant ran away. “You’re fucking serving me?!”
“It’s the only way! I need another chance-“
“So in order to get that you’re serving me?!”
“Y/N-“
“Get the fuck out of my face. I hate you!” You breathe out angrily.
“Y/n-“
“LEAVE QUINN!”
She nodded and quickly ran up to her study..
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“Quinnie, are you sure about this? Do you really think it’s wise to listen to mom? I mean she’s a big part of the reason you’re in this shit.” Frannie asked as she helped her sister make the guest bed in her home.
“I won’t lose Y/N.”
“Why would you wanna hurt them more by doing this? Y/N made it clear they want a divorce. You have done too much damage. Please for the kids sake just let Y/N have the divorce and go back to the city.”
“No! What do you not get!? Y/N is mine! I will not lose them!” Quinn shouted.
“Don’t shout… your niece is asleep in the other room.” Frannie grit. “You’re making a mistake.” 
“Frannie.” Quinn sighed, rubbing her head.
“Y/N said they hate you… hate. Quinn, that's the word they used. Y/N wants a divorce they do not want to be with you any longer.”
“They didn’t mean it. They were just angry.”
“Y/N wouldn’t just throw that word around. If you truly loved Y/N you would take your losses and leave before this gets uglier.”
“I can’t.” Quinn cried sitting down as Franny held her.
“If you love someone but they don’t love you then you’ve gotta let them go.”
Frannie knows Quinn has the worst parts of their parents. A pure evil mix of envy and bullheadedness. She knows her little sister will always stand in her own way through life. Especially now.
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A couple weeks later
Natasha could feel the bile rise in her throat seeing Quinn walk in with you.
“Natty!” Fin squealed, running straight to her.
“Hi sweetheart!” Natasha smiled lovingly at your daughter lifting her up in her arms.
“I misded you!” Finley squeezed her neck.
“I missed you too; so much.” Natasha cooed, rubbing her back softly. She leaned back a bit to get Finley’s attention.
“Are you excited to learn more today?”
“Yes!” She beamed.
“Good, why don’t you go ahead and put your shoes on.”
“Okay!” She cheered as Natasha set her back down. You let Quinn help her with her ballet shoes and walked towards the redhead.
“Hi.” You gulped.
“You’re- you’re back with her?” She asked folding her arms, her jaw clenching and unclenching. 
“No, God no… the judge said we needed to go through couples counseling. I wouldn’t say we’re back together. We just have to do this for bit and then I can legally divorce her.”
Natasha nodded, as she briefly looked down.
“I uh…made you this.” You handed Natasha a present.
She smiled while taking it from your hand.
“It’s just a frame I thought maybe you could commemorate your first class.”
She nodded looking at the wooden frame. She traced the words on the frame and looked up. “You made this?”
“Hmhm.”
“Thank you, Y/N, it’s beautiful.”
“You’re welcome.”
Her eyes are piecing and you can’t help but waiver beneath her gaze.
“I should; let you get to it then.”
“I miss you.” She said softly.
“I miss you too, so much.” You reply.
“You haven’t called me or texted me I thought you said we could keep talking at the very least.”
“I know I’m sorry I’ve been really struggling lately. She’s fucking draining me Nat.” Your voice wavered. 
“I’m here for you, Y/N-“ the redhead began until she was interrupted.
“Natasha?” Quinn interrupts as she steps beside you.
“Yes?” She asks with a heavy gulp.
“I just wanted to apologize for my behavior. You did not deserve that whatsoever. I understand if you hate me, but I just need you to know that, and to know how grateful I am for this class for Fin. I can’t wait to see her in the recital!”
Natasha nodded, crossing her arms.
“Hey sis!” Yelena walked up knowing her sister needed an and out as she pulled her close.
“Hey Yelena.” You smile stiffly feeling wildly uncomfortable.
“Y/N, good to see ya.” She smiles. “This must be the Cyka, I’ve been hearing all about. You’ve got a lot of gall coming in here.”
Quinn gaped, not understanding what was going on.
“We better get going.” You say nudging Quinn knowing she had about 5 seconds to get the hell out of there before the young blonde kicked her ass.
“Thanks again Nat.” You say and she nods in response.
“I know that hurt but you gotta be strong.” Yelena turns to her sister. Natasha nods and Yelena takes the bag from her and gives her a big bear hug before letting go.
Natasha clears her throat and chuckles seeing Finley dancing with the other kids.
“Okay class, who's ready to learn?!” Natasha beams.
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You waited patiently as the toddlers in the class said goodbye to Natasha leaving with their parents.
“Papa!” Finley beamed up as Yelena helped her take her ballerina shoes off. 
“Hey bubs, did you have fun?” You grin and she nods excitedly.
Natasha was trying to clean up when you began helping her.
“Thanks.” She said as you both finished up.
“Anytime.” You reply.
Yelena smirks as her sister just stares at you waiting to speak.
You looked away from Natasha’s captivating eyes before speaking. “Can we talk for a minute?”
She nods and you both walk to another empty room that seems to be the break room.
“I’m sorry about Quinn, she just really wanted to apologize. I told her don’t hold your breath.”
Natasha nodded slightly upset again. “Why Y/N?”
“I don’t know she’s seeing a psychiatrist now and-“
“No, why are you still with her? She’s hurt you in so many ways and you’re with her?”
“It’s not like that, I know it looks like, but if I don’t go to couples therapy I will lose the girls. Besides, it's court ordered.”
“She seriously took you to court?”
“Jen, did the best she could do but since Quinn’s father has political ties he managed to get the judge in her favor.”
“I thought you said she doesn’t talk to him?”
“I thought so too, I guess she’s more like her father than I give her credit for.”
“Did you tell your parents yet?”
“No.” You sighed. “I don’t want them to worry or get upset.”
“You need to tell them Y/N.” She raised her brow.
“I know.” You nod.
“How many appointments do you have left?”
“I’m not even half way yet.” You sighed.
She nodded sadly.
“But I’ve been working for Tony and he told me he might be able to help me out with the court as well.” You grin when you see her smile. “Quinn’s working from home now she’s taking care of the girls full time. So you’re looking at a working stiff now.”
“That’s really great Y/N.” She nods, still smiling.
“God, I miss you.” You can’t help but say and her smile fades.
“I miss you too. A lot.” She says sadly. “This is harder than I thought… being away from you.”
You caress her cheek and her green eyes flutter. You lean down kissing her softly. Natasha knows she shouldn’t kiss you back but she’s missed you and she can’t help but pull you in letting the kiss deepen.
You find the strength to not let it go further and respect her boundaries. Your foreheads stay touching as you both cool down and you can feel her breath against your skin.
“I’m leaving for Japan soon with Tony for a few days and then we’re back in NYC.”
“Wow. I haven’t been to Japan in a long time.” She chuckled.
“I’d beg you to come with me but I know… you’ve got the studio and well I’ve got my mess.” You smile sadly and she hugs you tightly. “Do you want anything from there?”
“I’ll send you a list.” She says making you laugh.
“Alright.” You kiss the top of her head.
“So I won’t be seeing you these next few lessons with Finley?”
“No… but don’t worry I asked Wanda if she could bring Fin and of course she said yes.”
“Thank you.” She replied.
“Of course.”
“If everything goes to plan the recital will be right before Thanksgiving. You’ll be there right?” 
“Front and center.” You grin.
She leans up kissing you once more. “Come on.” She sighs against your lips.
You both walk back to her studio.
“Hey Y/N we’re all having Thanksgiving at the Barton’s if you wanna join?” Yelena grinned as Finley climbed on her thighs.
“We’re actually going back to Lima for Thanksgiving. We usually have Finn’s memorial around the same time.”
“Papa, can Lena and Natty come with us to visit popo and GG?”
“I would love to, Finny, but Natty and I have to stay here.”
“Awwww.” Finley sighed sadly.
“But we’ll see each other when you get back.” Lena smiled. “Plus you’re not even leaving yet but we still have lots and lots of practicing to do.”
“Oh well when I do get back will you take me to the slide?” Finley giggled as she spun around with Yelenas help.
“Yes bug we will go to the slide.” Yelena smiles.
“And the swings?” 
“And the swings.” 
“Then ice cream?” 
“It’ll be too cold for ice cream, are you crazy?” Yelena chuckled, lifting up your giggle monster. “What are you Russian?”
“I think I’ve been traded for a younger Romanoff model.” Natasha chuckled.
“Nah, that’s not true. Right Fin? You love Natty?”
“I love Natttty!” She yelled giggling as Yelena tickled her as she tried to run to Natasha.
Natasha lifted her up holding her tight. “I love you too Finny.”
“Muah!” Your toddler leaned back kissing Natasha on the cheek. “You’re my favorite Natty.” Fin whispered in her ear.
Natasha felt her heart warm as she whispered back. “You’re mine too.”
“It’s time to go kiddo.”
“Awwww, I don wanna leave Natty.”
“I know you don’t.” You say as you take her from Natasha’s arms. “Trust me I don't want to either.” you mutter low enough for Natasha to hear.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Fin.” the redhead smiles lovingly.
“Oookay.” She sighed holding Natasha’s fingers. “Bye Lena, love you!” She said from your arms.
“Bye bug, love you, I'll see you at the same time tomorrow.” Yelena smiled.
“I meant what I said we’re going to happen, Nat. I promise you.” You say softly as you hold her hand that holds your daughters.
She nods giving you an unspoken look that you just know means she really wants to kiss you. So instead you lean down and kiss her cheek. She nods, kissing your cheek in return as well as Fin’s who giggles in response.
“I’ll see you again soon. Bye Lena.” 
“Bye Y/N.”
With that you walked out with Finley in your arms.
“You okay?” 
“I don’t know, maybe? I’d be better if Y/N wasn’t around that wretched woman and was with me instead.”
“It’ll happen. I just know it.”
“How?” Natasha deflated against her sister.
“Because of the way Y/N looks at you. Like you’re the sun after a thunderstorm. Come on, let's close up get some bad take out and binge watch something funny like Parks and Rec.”
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It’s been a few days since you left for Japan. When you sent Natasha a text.
She giggled at a video of you racing Tony on a Mario Kart.
You sent her videos of you trying foods and grabbing everything off her list that she wanted. Texts of your days and how much you miss her.
She spent her days thinking about you and in the studio with her pupils. That’s it, days passed by in heartache by not having you there, but you always checked in. You always told her the same thing. 
‘I miss you.’ 
God did she miss you too. The only thing she had of you was your hoodie and being able to see your daughter in every lesson. She counted down the days until the recital when she could see you again.
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As for you, your days were stressful. It was definitely a struggle trying to be a parent and work a full time job. You loved your work though it was the only thing that made your days better besides your kids. It keeps your mind occupied.
The couples therapy turned into individual therapy sessions. 
“So Y/N, how has the week been since the last time I had you and Quinn in?”
“I’m in love with Natasha.” You say bluntly.
“The neighbor that’s become a close friend? The one Quinn is afraid of?”
You nodded.
“Well, tell me more. How long have you had these feelings?”
“I think I’ve had them for a while now but I didn’t notice until we’ve been apart. I’ve been with Quinn since high school. I never cheated, not once. I’ve had women fall for me, and I never felt anything for them.”
“Until now.”
“Until now.” You nod in agreement.
“Do you even love Quinn anymore?”
You sighed, rubbing your head. 
“Remember our conversations stay between us. I do not discuss anything with Quinn and vice versa. Now think about that question again and tell me how you feel.”
“I don’t love her anymore. She’s ruined all the trust I had in her. I thought maybe if I just-“ you began tearing up trying not to let your voice crack. “I just thought that if I tried, maybe I could love her again, especially for the girls, but I can’t do it anymore. I’m starting to hate her and resent her and I don’t want to feel that way for the mother of my children.”
“That’s completely understandable Y/N. Thank you for sharing. I know that was hard.” She said handing you the tissue box.
“Now tell me how Natasha makes you feel.”
“She makes me happy, and I don’t feel like I’m ever walking on eggshells with her. She’s been there for me through everything.”
“Are you having an affair with her?”
“No, we agreed we’d wait for my divorce.”
“So she does feel the same way?”
You looked your therapist in the eyes before nodding. “Yes”
“Does she know you love her?”
“I haven’t told her.”
“Why haven’t you?”
“I’m kind of scared.”
“Why's that? You and Quinn seem to be done. You may need a divorce or separation which leaves you single.”
“She makes me want to go out and buy her a ring, and I’m in the middle of a divorce.”
“It’s always scary when feelings develop. Especially in the middle of separation or divorce.”
“I know she’d never hurt me, but it’s still daunting.” 
“Who? Natasha?”
You nod fiddling with your hands. “She just radiates love and kindness. I’d trust her with my life and with my daughters' lives.”
“Have you two kept in contact?” Agatha asks.
“We have but just through texts really. Work and the kids have been keeping me pretty busy.”
“Right, Quinn is staying home with the kids now.”
“Yes.”
“How has that been?” 
“Good I think.”
“Is that what she tells you?”
“We don’t really talk too much. When we do it’s when the kids are around.”
Agatha nods jotting down a note from Quinn’s perspective; it has not been going well. She’s been struggling with being at home and taking on your old role. Fin needs constant attention and Beth’s grades are dropping and she’s been getting in more trouble at school. Apparently she hasn’t shared that with you.
“Do you miss being home with the girls?”
“Sometimes but I love my job too so it’s tough.” You chuckled. 
“When the divorce is final how will you juggle the girls?”
“Stark Industries has a daycare in the office so I can have Fin with me, and Beth is good friends with the bosses daughter and the kids on the block so I won’t have to worry too much about carpool.”
Agatha nodded, writing out her notes.
“Where do you think you’ll live?”
“Well I have a few options.” You say.
Agatha nodded for you to continue.
“There's a house for sale a block away from Avenger Lane on Midnight Sun street. That way Beth is still close to her mother and the school.” You opted out on announcing the possibility of moving in with Natasha.
“That’s great.” She nods jotting down a note once again. “Have you thought about custody yet?”
“Of course and I would love for us to trade off weeks.”
“What if Beth doesn’t want to do that?” Agatha asks.
You gulp sitting up a bit. “Well then she can stay with her mother and visit with me when she’s ready.”
Agatha nods and looks up at the clock.
“Well that’s all for today. It was good to see you this morning.”
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Recital night
“Hey, Finley, your Papa is gonna have dinner with us tonight after she comes to your ballet recital. Are you excited?”
“Yeah!” Finley cheered.
“Let’s call her.”
“Hey, I was just about to call you.” She hears you say.
“Hey, are you close?”
“I am still in Manhattan, actually.” You sighed.
“What?” She hissed.
“It’s insane. The secretary of state got cold feet, so I’m stuck here trying to keep him on board.”
“I wish you would have told me an hour ago, when you knew you weren’t gonna make it.”
“Quinn, I couldn’t get out. I barely made it out just to make this phone call.”
“I want Papa!”
“You’re gonna do great. And you know what? Mommy’s gonna record it. So we’ll watch it together. Do you mind doing that, Q?”
“Of course.”
“Okay. Are you sure you know how to do video on the phone?”
“Yes, Y/N, I think I know how to point a rectangle at something.” She furrowed her brows and scoffed.
“Okay, okay, you know, just sometimes you’re not the best with technology.”
“I know how to operate my phone, okay? Listen, we’re getting close. We will talk to you later. Say, ‘Bye, Daddy.’”
“Bye, Daddy.”
“Bye…Yep. See, you’ve still got to press End, Q”
“Press “End.” Finley repeated.
You sighed, rubbing your temples before checking your phone. 
Notification 
‘1 bouquet delivered to…’
You sighed at least they made it to her. You really wanted to be there tonight.
“Hey bud.” Tony said softly, noticing your sullen expression. “I’m sorry you’re missing it too Y/N.” He sighed. “If it helps, Pepper just gave me hell.”
“It’s her first recital. I just hope she doesn’t hold it against me one day.” 
“Of course she won’t. Come on, let's try again.” Tony sighed.
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“Who are they from?” Yelena smirked; but fell when Natasha’s smile faltered.
“It’s Y/N, can’t make it tonight after all.” She felt her heart squeeze. 
Yelena snatched the card out of her hands and began reading aloud.
Nat,
I’m sorry I’m not the one handing these to you, and telling you myself just how proud I am of you. You don’t understand how upset I am right now that I won’t be there tonight. I hope I can find a way to make it up to you and Finley. Good luck and break a leg! I know it’ll go off without a hitch. 
I’m sorry that I’m not there,
From Y/N with love
“Wow.” Yelena hummed, setting the card back in the bouquet.
“What?” Natasha asked as she finished applying her lipstick.
“I mean Y/N still missed it, but now you know how much Y/N wanted to be here. Also the flowers they’re Peonies. Like that old Greek tale about Apollo. I’m just saying they actually put forth the thought and effort. Also Y/N ended it with ‘from Y/N with love’.”
“And?”
“And that means they are in love with you.”
“Y/N and I haven’t said that to each other yet.”
“Сестра, ты влюблен в нее, не так ли?” (Sister, you’re in love with them aren’t you?)
Natasha stared at the card you sent.
“Yes… I’m absolutely irrefutably in love with Y/N.”
“Don’t look so sad. It’ll happen, I know it will.”
Natasha nods and smiles in return to her enthusiastic sister.
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Even though you weren’t there, the recital went on without a hitch, or so she thought. After everyone left she walked out to find her car had died but luckily your ex wife was still in the parking lot.
Quinn and Natasha drove in an awkward silence when you called.
“Hey.” Quinn smiled while answering the phone.
“Hey.” You sighed.
“So, how’s it going?”
“We lost the Secretary. I have no idea what happened. It’s like everything I did, he just wouldn’t go for it.”
“I’m so sorry.” Quinn said suddenly wishing she hadn’t answered the call with the redhead sitting next to her and her daughters in the back asleep.
“I have no idea where we’re gonna come up with this money, and we have to work insanely hard over the next few weeks.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I feel like you’ve already been working insanely hard.”
“Can you figure out how to upload Finley’s dance recital? I definitely could use a pick-me-up.” You sighed; Natasha’s heart aches she could hear the exhaustion in your voice. 
“Um, actually, funny story — I didn’t get it. I shouldn’t have been so cocky about my rectangle-holding skills after all.” Quinn chuckled but stopped when she noticed the silence over the line. “Y/N?” She called out.
“You’re not serious, are you? You didn’t get any of the recital?”
Natasha bit her lip looking out the window. This was something she knew you had been so excited for. So the anger in your voice for having missed it was no surprise, but this fight she was about to witness was.
“No, I got Natasha introducing them and then the applause afterwards. But not so much of the middle part… Speaking of Natasha-“
“Come on, Quinn.” You sighed before asserting your tone. “Quinn, I asked you if you could use the phone, and you swore that you knew how. Nat had said she could have gotten one and I told her you would get it.”
“Yeah, okay, I’m sorry. I’m sure we can get a copy. A lot of people were recording it.” Quinn shook her head. She dropped the ball.
The two women jumped hearing the sound of your fist banging against something.
“Oh, great. So we’ll see somebody else’s kid with Fin in the background? I mean, it’s really not that hard to film a fucking video, Quinn.” 
Quinn let out a small puff of air. “Is there– um… you want to ease up a little bit? That was pretty harsh. I’m still your wife Y/N.” She inhaled, really wanting to cry.
“Listen, Quinn, I don’t know what to tell you. I mean, what do I do? It’s gone. That moment is just gone. I missed it.”
Your wife scoffed at you causing you to ball up your fist.
“Oh I don’t know, Y/N — maybe you should have been here.”
“You’re not serious, right? Wow. I mean, how is that fair!? I’m in NYC. These are my days in New York. You’ve agreed to this. What? Now you know what it feels like and you hate it?
Natasha looked over with her peripheral seeing Quinn wipe her eyes.
“You know what? I– I– I don’t think you want to start a conversation with me about what’s fair. Okay? This is way more intense than I ever thought it would! Beth—“
“Quinn, I’m not explaining this to you– Quinn, I’m not going over this again. I stayed home and took care of our daughters for years and not once did I complain.” You all but growled. “You owe me this much and you know it.”
“Y/N. I need you.” Tony called out.
“Okay Tony give me a minute… I don’t know how else to tell you, okay? I’m doing everything I can every week to bring home-”
“I am– I am– I am trying to make everything perfect here, okay? So that you can have everything that you want. I’m working from home and I’m putting in half my hours-”
“I’m doing this just for me? Is that what I’m doing? I’m doing it just for me?! If that’s what you think, then this is a really sad night. But you know what? I got to go. Okay?”
“Of course you do.” Quinn muttered.
“Hey come on. We’ll put a pin in this for now and we’ll talk tomorrow?”
“Yep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Quinn’s voice was strained.
“Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You sighed.
“Bye.” She squeaked out. 
Quinn pulled into her driveway when Natasha spoke up. 
“Wanda, had her brother have a video of the entire recital. I’ll have her email it to you.”
“Thank you.” Quinn whispered.
“Y/N is just having a bad day and took it out on you. Give them some time.” Natasha explained. 
Quinn chuckled before nodding.
“Thanks for the ride home.” The redhead said softly before turning to open the door only to have Quinn take her hand.
“Thank you Natasha for everything. I treated you like shit just because I was convinced you were in love with Y/N and would somehow steal them away. But I know now you’re just a good friend to Y/N and I need to respect that. I hope one day you can forgive me.”
Natasha felt taken aback. Quinn looked so… sad. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears.
“Of course and don’t worry about it.” She gulped down the feeling of guilt. Because she totally is in love with you, and soon you’ll be together again.
They both got out of the car. Natasha walked to her home as Quinn got Finley up and out of her car seat and gently woke Beth.
Natasha stepped in her home going through her nightly routine. After asking Clint to help her with her car tomorrow she laid down when her phone rang. She furrowed her brows. It was you.
“Y/N?” She answered.
“Hey.” You sounded tired but your tone was different than it was when you had spoken with Quinn. It wasn't irate and angry. It was tired but also tender.
“How are you?”
“Ah, I've had better nights.” You sounded like you were stretching.
“What’s wrong?” She asked as if she didn’t just hear you arguing with your wife.
“I just…” you sighed tiredly rubbing your face. “Nat, do you think me working for Tony is a mistake?”
“What? What do you mean? This is your dream Y/N.” She furrowed her brows sitting up.
“I missed my daughter's first ballet recital, and I missed your debut. I’m so sorry. I wanted to be there so bad Nat you have to believe me. I-“
“Hey.” She said softly before you went down a spiral of self loathing. “It’s okay! There’s going to be so many more, and it’s on video so you can still see it.” 
“I know I let you down.”
“I'll admit I was upset you weren’t there. I just miss you baby, and you promised.”
“I know. I feel sick about it.”
“Well don’t it’s okay I forgive you. I know you wanted to be here. I know you did.”
“So badly.” She hears you lay down. “I- I got in a fight with Quinn about it.” You admit.
“What happened?”
“Now looking back on it I shouldn’t have been so upset with her.” You sighed. “I spoke with her this morning about this meeting Tony and I had with The Secretary of State. Nat this meeting was extremely important. Something happened in the meeting and well the United States is no longer wanting to back Stark Industries. I lost it. Tony lost it. We couldn’t leave. I spent all day in crisis mode and in and out of meetings…. I was so angry that I missed tonight and I may have taken it out on her a bit. I just wanted to see Finley ya know. That was it when I called her tonight. That was all I wanted and she somehow didn’t video Finley. My daughter's first recital was gone. Well not now that I just watched the video, but in that moment I wasn’t thinking and I got so upset with her. I shouldn’t have.” At this point you’re crying a little bit and you’re really trying not too but Nat can tell. “She made a mistake, and she’s been so good too. I’m such an asshole!”
“Y/N you are not an asshole.” She said softly. “You’re stressed, and you’re still hurt by what she did to you. She stole your dream away, lied and cheated. She even served you. If anything I think it would be a little weird if you weren’t upset with her. As for your question in the beginning, no I don’t think you working with Tony is a mistake. You told me this has always been your dream. That unfortunately got taken away from you, but by the grace of Thor-“
You chuckled, wiping your tears.
“-you met Tony and here you are. That’s not a mistake. That’s fate… As for the Secretary, go to him first thing in the morning. You can get him back. I know you can. If you can sell Finley her peas. You can sell tech to that old man.”
You chuckled.
“God, I miss you.” You found yourself saying.
Her breath hitched before smiling softly. “I miss you too baby, I got your flowers by the way. They’re beautiful.” She says softly as she studies them on her nightstand.
“I’m glad you like them.” You said softly you drove yourself mad going through a list of flowers to pick. It had to be perfect. “I still wish I had been able to give them to you in person.”
“Did you pick them?” Natasha asks you after a beat. “I mean I know they were delivered obviously, but did you?” She’s waiting with bated breath for you to answer. She knew it had to be a yes she just knew it. You loved gardening, you know flowers maybe not as much as growing vegetables and fruits, but you knew flowers. Especially since Quinn let it slip that the first time you ever got her flowers was when you were both hiding your relationship. You were 15 and you knew what Gardenias meant. You have to know the story of the flower.
“I did.” You said softly.
Natasha’s breath hitched you picked them for her. You picked a flower that means love and romance and of course Goodwill.
“Did you ever hear the story of Paeonia?”
‘Yes.’ You wanted to say.
“Tell me about it.” You say instead.
“Well the story goes to say that Apollo fell for a Nymph named Paeonia. Apollo found her more beautiful than Aphrodite. Unfortunately for Paeonia, this rubbed Aphrodite the wrong way. She flew into a jealousy-fueled rage. Feeling vengeful, she turned Paeonia into a red peony.”
“Apollo was quite the ladies man.” You chuckled.
“That he was.” Natasha chuckled; she knew she shouldn’t be wondering this but she couldn’t help herself. 
“So… how was the recital Nat?” 
“It was pretty amazing.” She gushed.
“I saw it. It was fantastic! Tell me all about it.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Nah.” You smiled, closing your eyes.
“Lies, you just want me to bore you to sleep.” She chuckled.
“Bore? Pshhhh! You could never bore me, Natalia Romanoff.” You chuckled. Her voice could easily lure you to sleep but you could never find her boring.
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You snapped awake, your phone blaring. You blinked a few times at the device. Still half asleep. Your eyes widened realizing you and Natasha never actually hung up the phone. You both must have fallen asleep. It’s your wife calling. 
You hesitantly end the phone call with Natasha and answer Quinn.
“Morning.” You croak out having to clear your throat.
“Are you coming back home so we can leave for Lima?”
You were really trying to forgive Quinn, but deep down you weren’t ready to yet.
“Yes, I just have a meeting here in an hour.”
“Okay.” 
The call ended and you and Tony had your meeting. You worked your magic, and remembered Natasha’s encouraging words. Even Tony was in wonderment as you spoke to the Secretary of State, but by the end of your speech they agreed and signed the contract.
And you and Tony shared a bottle of champagne on the way back home.
“I’m proud of you kid.”
“Thanks Tony.”
“I know you missed Finley’s recital and Natasha’s debut. Just remember that it does come with the job. It’s unfortunate it is but we just signed a very big fucking deal and you fucking did it. Not only that but your building your children’s futures. They will understand when they’re holding their diplomas in their hands and realizing how hard you worked to get them there.”
You nodded as you both toasted.
“How’s the divorce going?”
“Not good. She won’t fucking sign the papers Tony, and she fucking served me.” You huffed downing the flute. Tony refilled it.
“Don’t worry I’ll take care of it. You need to tell your dad what’s going on.”
“I don’t want to worry him.”
“I can understand that but he deserves to know. It would break my heart to know my kid was going through this alone and I didn’t know. You said you’re leaving for Lima today tell them, and what about Nat?”
“What about her?”
“Does she know you’ve been served?”
“No but I’ll tell her.” You sighed.
“It’s important she knows too. I know you two love each other. You can see it written on your face from fucking space.” He laughed.
“I haven’t told her yet… I want to be divorced first.”
“I get that it’s honorable.” He nodded.
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Once you get back home you rush towards Natasha’s home knocking.
“Y/N.” She says in surprise, bringing you inside.
You hug her tightly. It's been so long since you held her.
“How long are you leaving this time?” She mumbled against your chest.
“About a week. Taking the kids to see my parents back in Lima and we usually have Finn’s memorial as well around this time.”
“Have you…” she clears her throat. “Have you told your parents yet?
“I don’t know if I should yet. I'm pretty torn.”
“Well, do you plan on staying with her?” She asked, stepping back, her eyes hardened.
“No… you know I don’t.” You say stepping closer trying to take her hand only for her to smack it away.
“Then you need to tell them.” She raised her brow.
“I’m just worried-“
“Your parents are grown ups Y/N they handled a teen pregnancy they can handle this.”
You purse your lips and nod. “I’ll tell them.”
She nods, feeling apprehensive.
“Hey come on, Nat, don’t do that, I will, I promise you, I will.” You say taking her hands.
“Okay.” She nods.
“Come here.” You say bringing her in a hug.
Natasha squeezes you tight, breathing you in and so do you.
“I meant to give you this last night after your debut.” You said pulling out a small jewelry box. You opened it revealing a golden diamond tennis bracelet.
“Y/N.” Natasha closed the box.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
“This just feels… wrong.”
“Wrong? How?” You frowned.
“It just feels like you’re… you’re trying to buy my forgiveness.”
“I guess it does seem that way, but it’s not meant to be. I was supposed to be there for you and Fin last night. I had it all planned.” You sighed sitting against the shoulder of her sofa. “I was going to bring Finley and give her some chocolate flowers and you the flowers I had sent and this bracelet I found in Tokyo.”
Natasha walked over between your legs. “I don’t need anything I just want you, I keep telling you that.” She says softly.
“This is just my love language, Nat, I do acts of service and give gifts when I’m away from people I care about for a long time.” You explain. “This bracelet isn’t me buying your forgiveness. If that’s how you feel then I’ll keep it.”
She shook her head and placed her hand on your heart. “No it’s okay it’s just I’ve never had someone who's gotten me things and made acts of service for me. I’m not used to it.” 
“I probably shouldn’t have gotten something so…” You nod looking away from her eyes feeling foolish.
“It’s beautiful.” She says softly, turning you by the chin. She kisses you and your hands grip her hips. She whimpers letting her fingers peek in between the buttons of your dress shirt.
“Hmm.” You hum taking her bottom lip in between teeth. “I miss you baby.” 
“I miss you too.” She says kissing you again letting her tongue meet yours.
Her negligee is thin and her robe is undone you can feel her thigh against you.
Your kiss is turning a little heated and sloppy teeth are beginning to clash and you feel the heat of her breath against your skin.
She presses her hands against your chest and lays her forehead against yours. “God this is so hard not being with you.” She whispers.
“I know. I just need a little more time and I promise I’ll be yours.” You stand and hold her close. “You were right by the way. I got the Secretary to sign.”
“I knew you would.” She smiled up at you.
Her hand makes its way down, and you raise your brows. She rolled her eyes and took out the new box.
“Put it on me.” She says.
You open it and take the bracelet from its silky cushion and place it around her wrist. You kiss her hand and say:
“I’m gonna miss you.” You say.
“I’m gonna miss you more.” She replies with a sniffle.
“Not a chance.” You say making her laugh.
You kiss her one more time she hums. Her hand going beneath your coat to rest against your heart. The diamonds twinkle beneath the morning sun.
“I have to go. Our flight leaves soon.”
She nods and kisses you softly as you hold her.
“I’ll see you soon.” 
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“Thanks again for picking us up from the airport Frankie.” Quinn says from the backseat.
“Yeah thanks dad.”
“Thanks poppop.” Beth smiles from her switch.
“Tanks popo.”
“Oh of course!” Frankie smiles in the rear view mirror. 
“Y/N how’s Nat doing?”
“Good she just opened up a ballet studio. Fin is her student!”
“Oh well that’s fantastic, good for her! Beth, you don’t wanna learn Ballet?”
“I am; just from mom.” She replied back.
“Bonding time is always nice.” Frankie nodded feeling it was a sensitive subject.
“Where’s mom? At home?” You asked, changing the subject.
“Of course just making your favorite.” He chuckled.
“Popo?”
“Yes Fin?” Your dad smiled through the rearview mirror.
“Wanna see me dance?”
“Yes honey when we get home you can show me and GG!”
“Yayyyyyyy!” Finley cheered.
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“Mom.” You sighed practically falling in her strong arms. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” Your mom couldn’t help but cry holding you tight for just a minute longer before letting you go to see you. “Oh baby you look tired and have you been eating? Come inside!” She pushed you inside towards the kitchen before turning and giving Beth a hug.
“Hi GG!” Beth smiled hugging her close.
“Oh Bethy your getting so big please stop!” Sophia sniffled before letting her go as Finley ran towards her dropping her backpack on the grass for her popo to pick up.
“GG!!!!!” She squealed, running towards your mother jumping in her arms.
“Mi Reina!” Your mother cooed, rocking her side to side.
Quinn gulped feeling guilt ridden as Sophia smiled at her. “Hello, Quinn.” She hugged her and Quinn hugged back feeling like she was going to just break down in tears.
“Come on inside, it's time to eat.”
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You could feel your parents doing that thing where they telepathically communicate and stare at you.
“Papa, this is my favorite too!” Finley smiled as she chewed looking up at you.
Your parents chuckled and your mom leaned over kissing Fin’s cheek.
“When’s Finn’s memorial?” You dad asks.
“Probably Friday.” You nod.
“I ran into his mother the other day. She and Burt are doing well.”
“That’s good.” Quinn speaks up.
“I still can’t believe he’s gone. He’d show up everyday just to play with you.” Sophia smiled sadly.
“Uncle Finn?” Beth asked looking up.
“Hmhm, two peas in a pod; three of you really if you count Mikey.” Sophia chuckled.
“I was always happy you had two best friends.” Your dad smiled. “A classic friendship and plenty of memories.”
“What was the funniest thing that they did?” Beth asked.
“Well let’s see.” Your dad looked deep in thought when your mother chuckled and leaned over.
“Oh God, don't give her any ideas please.” You groaned.
“Once they learned an entire Backstreet Boys dance and showed off to that cute little girl what was her name? Gabrielle?”
“Avery.” Quinn muttered.
“That’s the one!” Your mom laughed.
“Or the time you sent that kid all the way to LA.” Your raised his brow.
“Wait what?!” Beth giggled.
“Your papa was a tyrant.” Your mom smirked.
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“I’m gonna go visit my mother for a bit.” Quinn speaks softly.
You nod not looking at her. 
“Baby please look at me.” She sniffles, placing her hands on your cheeks.
“Don’t call me that.” You respond by taking her hands off of you.
“There was a time where you loved me and couldn’t keep your hands off me. Why can’t we just go back? Start over?”
“You know why Quinn.” You say stepping away and sitting down on your old computer chair.
“Y/N we’ve been together since high school. We have Beth and Finley. Our friends. Please I’m begging you-“
“You need to understand that I do not love you anymore. The thought of us together makes me sick. We are over. We’ve been over for so long. You just didn’t want to admit it. That’s why you snuck around.”
“I made some stupid decisions, but you were never one of them. I love you Y/N I always have and I always will.”
You looked away.
Quinn sighs in defeat before leaving the house.
You make your way back downstairs when you see your parents sitting in the living room.
“So? You're gonna tell us what’s wrong?” Your dad asked, setting his newspaper down as you mom sat on the arm of his chair.
You rubbed your face, the jig is up, they always know when something is wrong. Natasha’s face comes to mind.
“Get it off your shoulders Y/N.” Your mom whispered.
“Quinn and I are separated.” You say softly.
Your parents nod understanding as they look at one another.
“What happened?”
“You’re going to be very upset.” You say trying not to cry.
“What have I always said to you about that?” Your dad responds.
“We’ve had a rocky year. We purposely moved out of the city to help our relationship but it’s only gotten worse. I found that she cheated on me, got her tubes tied then tried to untie them, but worse she and her mother…”
“What did that bitch do?” Your mother all but growls.
“She’s the reason I didn’t get into MIT. She took my letter and declined it before I could see it.” You sniffle.
“I’m gonna kill her!” Your mother stands rushing to the closet.
“Sophia!” Your dad runs after her just as she grabbed your old metal bat. “No honey no!” Your dad said, trying to take it from her.
“She ruined our baby’s college career Frankie!” 
“I understand you’re upset so am I and I’m sure our baby is too, but she’s a Fabray if you just go there guns blazing you will end up in jail. No, we have to be cunning. We have to be smart. This isn’t checkers hun this is chess.” 
Your mom finally lets go and your father places it back in the closet and goes over to the bar to make your mother a drink.
“Y/N do you have a lawyer.”
“Yes but she served me our last court day she got the judge to give us court ordered couples therapy to prolong the divorce.”
“That’s okay we can use the therapy to our advantage and we can serve them. What she did is a felony.”
“I don’t want this to get uglier dad.”
“It already is Y/N.”
“No one hurts our family and gets away with it.” Your mother raised her brow laying a hand on Frankie’s shoulder.
“Alright so this is what you’re gonna do Y/N.” Your father begins.
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After following your fathers instructions you sat down next to him as your mother played with the girls..
“Despite all of this bad news I did find some good.”
“Oh? Is that Natasha?”
“Well yes but Tony was the one that found out about MIT he had Nat tell me… He also gave me a job. I’ve been working with him for the past few weeks.”
“Really?” Your dad asked, raising his brows as you nodded. “Y/N that’s great.” He smiled
“Dad, I'm kind of scared. The Fabrays have never been one to play.”
“I promise you the plan will work.”
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“Thank you for dinner, this is just absolutely delicious.” Your mother smiled villainously.
“Oh I’m glad you like it Sophia you’ll have to come again sometime.” Judy smiles. “By the way, where are the girls?”
“They’re with Santana and Brittany.” You responded.
“Oh okay.” Judy said sadly when the doorbell suddenly rang.
“Mind if I grab a drink?” Sophia asks.
“Oh yes of course. Let me see who's at the door.”
Judy stood walking to the door.
“You should go with your mother.” You nodded towards Quinn.
“Mom, what's going on.”
“Oh great two birds one stone. Quinn and Judy Fabray?” The courier asked.
“Yes?”
“You’ve been served.” 
“Wait what?! There must be some kind of mistake!”
“Oh no it was deliberate just like how you stole my child’s chance at MIT.” Sophia spoke walking up to Judy with you and Frankie in tow. 
“Sophia I-“
“Shush now honey, you’ll let the flies in. Just save it for the judge.”
“We’ll see you both in court.” Your father gruffs.
“Y/N-“ Quinn begins.
“It’s best if you stay here.”
“Y/N please!” Quinn pleaded but it was too late you had already slammed the door shut.
“I told you over and over again not to listen to mom. You both are fucking unbelievable.” With that Frannie grabbed her things and left the Fabray mansion.
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It was late in the night the girls were sound asleep and it was just you and your parents.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner sweetheart?” Your mom asks taking your hand across the table.
“I just wanted to try and handle it on my own and not worry you guys. I just didn’t want to disappoint you again.”
“We’ve told you time and time again.” Your parents sighed, shaking they’re heads.
“I know, I know.” You sighed rubbing your temple. “There’s something else you should know. A month ago I realized maybe Quinn wasn’t too far off about me having feelings about Natasha. We’ve gotten closer and well I’m in love with her, but you have to know I didn’t leave Quinn for her. That’s not how any of this happened.”
You parents nodded, taking it all in.
“So you love her huh?” Your dad asked.
“I do… I kind of figured it out a while back, but we never did anything, just stayed friends of course. Then when I left Quinn and I stayed with Nat. It was the last night I stayed there but we slept together. We knew we probably should’ve waited at least until the divorce is final, and we had that discussion we’re waiting to be together once this is over. I probably shouldn’t have even told you that part but it’s important because…” you reached into your pocket taking out a box.
Your mom gasped.
“I love her so much and this time apart has only proved that I wanna spend the rest of my days with her. I know it’s soon but I honestly have given it a lot of thought. She means so much to me.”
“So you fell in love with Natasha and now you want to marry her.” Your dad chuckled.
And your mom looked at him wondering what he was thinking.
“You know if we hadn't met her, I probably would have thought you were acting childish, but she was a beautiful and sweet woman. Your mom and I fell in love with her instantly.”
Your mom looked almost relieved at his answer.
“We just want you to be happy.” Your mom replied. 
“Is it pretty fast? Yeah.” Your dad laughed. “But if she makes you happy, actually happy then lock her down.”
Your mom laughed, kissing his cheek and you wiped your tears.
“Let me see it.” Your mom beamed as you handed the the ring.
“Wow.” Your parents gasped.
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“Thanks again for watching the girls.”
“Of course.” Your mom smiled, squeezing Beth as they made dinner.
“Don’t worry we’ve got them. Go on to Finn’s memorial.” Your dad waved you off.
You nodded, grabbing your keys and pecking parents as well as your daughter's cheeks. “I love you all I won’t be back too too late.”
Your dad smirked as you walked out.
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You were the first one to walk into the old choir room seeing some things have changed. You could practically see your old silhouettes dancing and singing. 
Your turned hearing footsteps. Mercedes, Sam, Tina, Mike, Artie, Kurt, Blaine, Santana, and Brittany all came in.
“What a nerd, always on time.” Santana snickered, giving you a hug.
“We may have been gossiping about you.” Mike cringed feeling Santana smack his shoulder.
“They just gave us a heads up.” Tina frowned.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Mercedes frowned, giving you a hug.
“It’s okay guys really.” You sighed.
“Do you think they’re going to show up?” Kurt asked.
“I don’t know, I mean, I won’t be upset if they do. This is for Finn, not me.” You shrug.
“You’re bigger than me.” Santana scoffed.
“Hmhm.” Mercedes nodded her head.
“I served her and Judy yesterday.”
“Pause. What!?” Santana raised her hand.
“I have a feeling she’ll sign in a few days.” You say.
“Oh for sure the Fabrays hate a bad image.” Santana huffed.
“Soooo how’s it going with a certain redhead?” Mike raised his brows.
“Ohhh I knew it!” Santana crouched down fist pumping.
“Noooo! You and the ex model?!” Mercedes gasped.
“Natasha?!” Kurt gasped, falling in Blaine’s arms.
“Alright take it easy.” You muttered.
“Dude nice!” Sam nodded.
“So what’s going on with that?” Tina asked.
“Well… when I left Quinn I stayed with Nat and well the last night I stayed with her….” You nodded.
“Woooow.” Brittany muttered. 
“It just sort of happened, and I don’t know I’ve been having these feelings for her and that week really solidified everything for me.”
“So you two are together?” Mike asked.
“We’re waiting.” You shook your head.
“Why?!” Santana scoffed.
“We wanna wait until Quinn and I are divorced.”
“Damn, she must really love you to deal with Quinn’s crazy ass.” Artie commented.
“Ohhh yeah Artie you were right by the way.”
“I’m always right… but about what?” He kinked his brow.
“Steve is gay. He and Bucky are together.”
“I fucking called it.” Artie smirked, wheeling away.
You smiled to yourself, you turned towards Kurt and Blaine. “You alright there Kurt?”
“I’m just so happy.” He cried, dabbing his eyes as Blaine fanned him. “Steve’s gay and you’ve snagged Natasha.”
“She’s such a class act and absolutely gorgeous we’re so happy for you Y/N.” Blaine smiled.
“Thank you.” You said softly before snapping a quick pic of the scene before you and sending it to Natasha with the caption.
McKinley’s resident Diva finding out about us.
Nat: That’s hilarious 😆 Also you told them?
You: I did… is that okay?
Nat: more than okay 🥹😚❤️‍🔥
You: 😊🥰😚
“Do you guys think Shue is coming?” Sam asked.
“Ew I hope not.” Brittany cringed.
“Sorry we’re late guys.” 
You all turn around seeing Quinn and Rachel walk in. Quinn’s nose was a pink hue and bags are now puffy from crying.
“I was thinking we could stick to what we have been doing every year? Everyone who wants to sing can sing and maybe we can end with a group song?” Rachel gulped feeling daggers at her face. 
“Okay maybe we should all clear the air first? Then make this about Finn?”
“No we need to focus on Finn I don’t think you wanna hear what we have to say.” Mike grit.
“Well Michael, I think it’s best to clear the air.” Rachel doubled down.
“Oh no honey there’s nothing to clear. We know what’s going on.” Mercedes scoffed.
“Guys please I know you’re angry with me but Rachel really isn’t the problem just direct it to me.” Quinn sighed.
“I mean she did confront Nat about getting her to break us up but yeah sure let’s not say she had no hand in it.” You nodded.
“Skirrrrt what?!” Artie tilted his head.
“Okay, I was drunk and I did say that, but I saw how close the two of you were. Y/N deny it all you want but I saw how close the two of you were that night at your party. KISSING DISTANCE.” Rachel clapped.
“Oh no you’re right there is no denying it. You see Rachel unlike my soon to be ex wife over here I never cheated not once. I never looked at another woman, but she kept bashing me and kept hammering on and on about Natasha and myself that I finally saw the light that night. So many people said I made the biggest mistake by marrying you.” You said towards a crying Quinn.
“My parents, Mike, Finn, Sersi, and now Natasha…. And then all your lies started coming out of the woodwork. Accusing me of having an affair with Sersi when really you were probably having this affair with the hobbit from the Shire.”
Quinn sniffled, shaking her head as Rachel scoffed.
“Telling me you were pregnant but really you had your tubes tied after you had Finley just so I couldn’t work with Stark Industries. But what really takes the cake is you stealing my chance at MIT… I will NEVER forgive you for that. You’re a liar Quinn Fabray. There’s no telling what lows you will stoop too. What else have you done behind my back huh? What did you poke a hole in the condom to have Beth?”
“No!” She cried.
“Dammmmn.” Artie gasped.
“She probably did.” Sam mumbled.
“You’re gonna sign those papers. You’re gonna let me have 50/50 custody of our girls. You’re gonna let me take whatever is mine in that house including my dog Ollie. You can keep the house I’m moving in with Natasha.”
“I fucking knew it!” She cried.
“No you didn’t but you did push me in her arms.” You chuckled.
“Literally.” Santana nodded.
“Honestly Q, I warned you this would happen.” Brittany shrugged.
“Fine we’ll go to court and I’ll just prove that you and Natasha had a thing.” Quinn’s eyes hardened as her jaw locked in place. “I’ll get that little Russian bitch deported.”
“Wow!” Kurt gasped. 
You chuckled darkly, stepping forward. “Oh Quinn, she has a green card that won’t happen. You’re gonna sign whatever the fuck I want you to sign, but hey if you wanna play it that way we can go to court.” You nod before losing your smile.
“Just know I’m taking the Fabray fortune with me, and your cunt of a mother can live the rest of her miserable days with you. If you wanna take that risk be my guest. Honestly I actually kind of want to go to court just so I can take your family’s money and that old mansion. I think I’ll knock it down and put up a Taco Bell. But don’t worry I’ll take care of Franny.” You wink.
“You fucking asshole!” Quinn tried to slap you but you managed to dodge the hit and Artie managed to get it on video right before you moved. Sam grabbed her and moved her across the room.
“That was fucking diabolical.” Santana smirked. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Dude.” Mike covered his mouth smiling. “That was amazing.”
“Y/N, I just sent you this video, you should show the court this as well.” Artie grinned.
“Thank you.” You shook his hand.
“Anytime. I live for this shit.” Artie cackled.
“Okay, she is starting to smoke from my pen so she’s good now.” Sam nodded.
A few moments later Rachel walked up it almost felt like high school again sitting in the bleachers with her front and center.
“Okay, so the air is cleared somewhat… can we now make this about Finn?” Rachel asked, looking at the framed photo in front of her.
“Definitely.” You said smugly.
“Quinn?” Rachel called out softly.
“Yes.” She said rubbing her temple.
“Guys?”
“Uhhuh, yup, yes!” Everyone answered.
“I also brought us some whiskey.” You announced holding up a flask.
“Y/N, this is a school.” Rachel huffed.
“Rachel it’s for Finn.” Quinn sighed.
You handed her the flask and she took it.
“Great… maybe let’s share some of our favorite moments with Finn? I’ll start us off…. I remember our last moments were at the train station when he sent me on my way to New York. I remember being really sad that I didn’t get to send him off. He told me he loved me but that he wasn’t going to write me.” Rachel began to cry. “Not because he didn’t want to but because this was goodbye he didn’t want to me to bring an anchor to New York.”
You furrowed your brows remembering Quinn saying those words when she mentioned them together back in high school. 
“He kissed me and then he let me go. That was the last time I ever saw him.” Rachel sniffled. “It’s weird I know I’ve always had these feeling deep down for Quinn but Finn always held my heart. I’ll always love you Finn.” Rachel cried before taking a swig. The Broadway singer sat next to Quinn who rubbed her back.
“I guess I’ll go next, Y/N, you might wanna join me since you were there.” Mike chuckled, standing up holding the flask. “One of my favorite moments was the night before he left for the Marines.”
“It was just us three like old times.” You chuckled, nodding.
“Finn wanted to do everything we used to do when we were kids.” Mike sniffled. “We played video games and gorged ourselves on pizza rolls.”
“Then we went to the football field and got hammered.” You snickered.
“We tried to sneak into a strip club.” Mike laughed, causing you to laugh along with the club. “At first we couldn’t get in but Y/N-“ Mike chuckled. “Y/N told the truth to the bouncer that Finn was a dumbass who had enlisted, and that it could be the last time he would see a good piece of ass for the next 4 years.”
“We got in for like an hour.” You chuckled.
“Then Finn cried and told us how much he loved us.” The dancer had tears in his eyes.
“How much Glee meant to him.” You added trying not to cry.
“And how if he could do it all again he would.” Mike said sadly.
“We cried and then we busted his balls for making us cry.” You chuckled.
“We told him we’d write and FaceTime.” Mike continued.
“Told him I’d name my next kid after him.” You chuckled, making Quinn smile.
“We went back to his moms house, ate more pizza rolls, and passed out in his room in the same spots we used to sleep in as kids.” Mike smiled before taking a shot of the whiskey.
“Here’s to you Finn.” You say softly taking a shot.
“We love you man.” You and Mike said together before pulling one another in a hug silently crying. It was in your embrace that you both felt his presence. Almost as if he was holding you both in a bear hug. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when you turned around.
“Fuck you guys that was sad.” Artie wiped his tears as he took the flask. “As you all know I was bullied relentlessly in the beginning before Glee. There was one day Puck was going to throw me down the stairs to be honest I was terrified. Finn caught him before it happened and took me to class. Y/N, I’m pretty sure you were the one that shoved Puck down stairs that day.” Artie snickered. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was in math class that day.” You grinned as everyone chuckled.
“I got messed with but Finn and of course Y/N and Mike always managed to save me. Thanks guys.”
Kurt walked down taking the flask.
“Um, so Finn was one of my biggest crushes in high school besides my husband of course.” He chuckled. “He made it very clear that we would only ever be friends at the most brothers. After seeing his wardrobe, and the way he danced. those feelings quickly faded.” He laughed.
“He was a great step brother though. Always took up for me and supported me when I decided to leave our school and then when I decided to come back. It was hard losing him. It still is after all this time. We miss you Finn but don’t worry I’ve got mom and dad taken care of.” Kurt took a swig and made a face before taking his seat.
Soon everyone said they’re kind words.
“Should we move to a karaoke bar? My dads said we can use theirs in the basement.” Rachel announced.
“I’d like say something first if that’s okay.” Quinn said softly you handed the nearly empty flask.
“Finn and I didn’t always get along. He never thought I was good enough for Y/N and he was right.” 
You looked up.
“Finn, I’m sorry for all the times I tore you down and called you dumb. I’m sorry for telling you that you weren’t good enough for Rachel.”
The brunette looked up in surprise.
“But most of all I’m sorry for how I treated your best friend. I hope you can forgive one day.” With that Quinn downed the rest of the flask.
“That was beautifully said Quinn.” Rachel spoke up as the blonde handed you the flask.
“So Rachel, your parents still have that full bar?” Tina grinned.
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Drinks were going, songs were played, laughs were heard around the room.
Rachel downed a shot of liquid courage before walking over towards you. You looked up after making a drink.
“I just wanted to apologize to you for my part… I- I don’t know what the fuck came over me. I don’t what I was thinking. I don’t what made me think that trying to steal Quinn and getting Natasha to help me was a good idea. But I am sorry Y/N. I really am.” Rachel quickly wiped away a stray tear. “I know you’ve never liked me, I know you think I’m fake, but I’m being real with you right now. Because I know Finn would have been ashamed of me and my actions. It would have broke his heart. Me having feelings for Quinn I don’t think he would have really thought much of it but me hurting you I think he would have hated me for that. So I hope one day you can forgive me. Maybe we can be friends one day?”
“Maybe.” You nod.
“That’s all I can hope for.” She squeezes your hand and walks away.
“Was that an apology I heard?” Kurt asked, walking over with Mike.
“It was.” You raised your brow.
“Woooow.” Kurt nodded.
“Sup Fabgay.” Santana said, leaning by Quinn.
“Santana.” Quinn sighed.
“Was that a real apology you made earlier to Finn or just something to put on a show before court?”
“It was real.” She sighed.
“So then you’re going to sign?” Santana hounded her.
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Quinn groaned, before grabbing her drink.
“Are you even in love with Y/N? Like gotta have sex with them constantly, wanna have another baby, want to grow old with them?”
Quinn watched you as you laughed at something Kurt said.
“Because I can tell you right now Y/N does not feel that way about you.”
“I get it Santana, Y/N is fucking our neighbor.”
“I never said that.” The brunette snickered.
“Q, after everything you put Y/N through, don't you want them to be happy? Even if it’s with Natasha?” Brittany asked.
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Quinn stood up going to the restroom with her old cheerio teammates in tow.
Meanwhile on the other side of the room.
“So Y/N tell us about Natasha.” Mercedes smiled coyly.
“She’s absolutely amazing.” Kurt began.
“Uh I said Y/N!” Mercedes huffed.
“Well he isn’t wrong.” You chuckled. “She’s the sweetest most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I think I’m taking her somewhere special when all this is said and done.” You say.
“Ooooh take her somewhere secluded and snuggle by the fire.” Tina said whimsically.
“I think I just might! My boss did say I could borrow his cabin upstate.”
“Noooo take her somewhere tropical and luxurious.” Mercedes laughed.
“Seeing her in a bikini does sound nice.” You smirked.
Your friends laughed.
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“Alright guys I think I’m gonna head out.” You say standing up.
“Wait nooooo! Nooo!” Mike slurred.
“Yeah.” You chuckled.
“No wait Y/L/N play us one song just one! Berry you’ve got a guitar right?!” Santana asked.
“Yes!” Rachel ran into the closet grabbing a guitar before handing it to you. “It’s old, never really used it. It was in my early Taylor era hence the pink.” She giggled.
“Okay just one and I think you guys might remember this from grad night if so; sing along.” You say taking a seat on the stool. You start to tune the guitar and begin to strum lightly.
“Passed out on the overpass 
Sunday best and broken glass 
Broken down from the bikes 
And bars Suspended like spirits 
Over speeding cars 
You and me were kings over the 
Parkway tonight”
Tina took her lighter out waving her hand.
“And tonight will go on forever
While we walk around this town
Like we own the streets
And stay awake through summer 
Like we own the heat 
Singing "everybody wake up”
(wake Up!)
“it's time to get down” 
(everybody, everybody wake up It's time to get down!)”
Everyone was swaying together as they sang.
“And when I pass the bottle back
To Finn on the overpass tonight, 
I bet we laugh” 
“To Finn!” Everyone cheered, taking another shot as you strummed.
“I'm gonna stay eighteen forever 
(cut me open) 
So we can stay like this forever 
(sun poisoned) 
And we'll never miss a party 
(this offer stands forever) 
'Cause we keep them going constantly 
And we'll never have to listen 
To anyone about anything 
(new bracelet) 
'Cause it's all been done and 
It's all been said 
(eyeliner) 
We're the coolest kids and we 
Take what we can get”
Santana cried as she remembered the good old days and how far she and Brittany have come. She’s not young anymore, none of them are.
“The hell out of this town 
Find some conversation 
The low fuel lights been on for days 
It doesn't mean anything 
I've got another 500 nother 500 miles 
Before we shut this engine down, 
We shut it down”
“I'm gonna stay eighteen forever 
(cut me open) 
So we can stay like this forever 
(sun poisoned) 
And we'll never miss a party 
(this offer stands forever) 
'Cause we keep them going constantly 
And we'll never have to listen 
To anyone about anything 
(new bracelet) 
'Cause it's all been done 
And it's all been said 
(eyeliner) 
We're the coolest kids and 
We take what we can get 
(wait forever) 
(you're just jealous cause 
I'm young and in love)”
“Eighteen forever 
(your stomachs filled up but 
You're starved for conversation!) 
So we can stay like this forever 
(you're spending all your nights 
Growing old in your bed) 
And we'll never miss a party 
(and your tearin up your photos 
'Cause you want to forget... it's over!!) 
'Cause we keep them going constantly”
“(you're just jealous cause 
I'm young and in love!) 
And we'll never have to listen 
(your stomachs filled up but 
You're starved for conversation!) 
To anyone about anything cause 
It's all been done 
(you're spending all your nights 
Growing old in your bed!) 
And it's all been said 
(and your tearin' up your photos 
'Cause you want to forget... it's over!) 
We're the coolest kids and we take 
What we can get”
“You’re just jealous cause we're 
Young and in love!
You're just jealous cause 
We're young and in love!
You're just jealous cause 
We're young and in love!
You're just jealous cause 
We're young and in love!
You're just jealous cause 
We're young and in love!”
All of you came together in a hug already planning on the next get together.
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“Hello?” Natasha answered sleepily.
“Hi I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“Don’t be, I was hoping you would call.”
“How have you been? How was Thanksgiving?”
“I’m ok and it was alright. Of course it would have been better with you.” She says softly.
“Same here.” You say softly.
“Yelena and Kate made me binge watch Parks and Rec.”
“It’s pretty great right?”
“It definitely made me laugh.”
“Who was your favorite character?”
“Ron Swanson of course.”
“The scene where he pulls out his tooth just gets me every time.”
She laughs and it sounds so heavenly you can feel your heart skip a beat. “Or the time he broke the coffee pot and started a war in the office?”
You both chuckled.
“How was Finn’s memorial?”
“It was eventful.” You chuckled.
“I got to see some of the stories.” Natasha snickered.
“Oh no.” You looked down at your phone seeing the tags.
“The story you and Mike shared about Finn was sweet. I definitely cried. Plus I got to hear you sing, which is one of my favorite things.”
“You’re making me blush.” You grin.
“The pink guitar is cute.” She snickered.
“It’s not mine, it's Rachel’s.” You huffed.
“A likely story.”
You laughed.
“I miss you Y/N.” She gulped, trying not to cry.
“I miss you. I may not be home for a few more days. I have some loose ends to tie up, but I promise you I’ll be there in time for your birthday.”
“Okay.” She whispered, wondering if she should hold her breath.
“I mean it Nat. I’m going to make it happen.”
She pulled your hoodie closer.
“Will you sing to me?”
“Close your eyes and I'll kiss you
Tomorrow I'll miss you
Remember I'll always be true
And then while I'm away
I'll write home every day
And I'll send all my loving to you.”
“Keep going.” She whispered.
“I'll pretend that I'm kissing
The lips I am missing
And hope that my dreams will come true
And then while I'm away
I'll write home every day
And I'll send all my loving to you.”
“All my loving.” She smiled.
“I will send to you
All my loving, darling I'll be true
Close your eyes and I'll kiss you
Tomorrow I'll miss you
Remember I'll always be true
And then while I'm away
I'll write home every day
And I'll send all my loving to you
All my loving I will send to you
All my loving, darling I'll be true
All my loving, all my loving ooh
All my loving I will send to you”
“What do you think?” You asked.
“I loved it baby.” 
“Papa?” She heard Fin call for you.
“What’s wrong bubs? What are you doing up?” You lift her up.
“Popo snores too loud.” She grunts burying her face in your neck. You chuckled and so did Natasha. 
“I’ll let you go take her back to bed. I’ll see you soon.” She whispers.
“Before you do, just know that I absolutely adore you and I swear I’m gonna make this birthday the best yet.” You say before ending the call. “Come on pipsqueak let’s go to bed.”
“Where’s mama?” Fin asks sleepily.
“She’s with her mama.” You sighed.
“Ohh.” She yawned.
You lay down and Fin cuddled into your side. “I love you papa.”
“I love you too Finny. To the moon and back.”
Don’t forget to like comment and reblog 😘
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tsuvvy · 8 months
Text
Oh Sister of Mine - Chapter 2
Mistreated Stray
You wake up cuffed to a hospital bed. You refuse to cooperate with the Batfamily and stubbornly refuse to disclose any information about yourself or how you ended up in your job with Kerrim. And surprise rises when they find out whose DNA matches closest to yours.
Warnings: Mentions of pain, you are handcuffed to a bed, fighting with electricity, violence (not a lot), mentions of not eating well, implication of (not) poisoned food, mention of killing and torture, you being compared to a stray dog (not in a bad way, I promise)
Word Count: 2.3k
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Your head was pounding. Your limbs hurt. You felt uncomfortable.
You wanted to curl up into a little ball. But when you tried to move your hand, it didn't go very far. It was abruptly stopped by a force.
You peeled your eyelids open and managed to look down through your blurry vision. You were handcuffed to the bed.
You looked around with your confused and still somewhat blurry eyesight.
Off to the side, there was a man. He was decently tall and his clothes looked meticulously cleaned and pressed of any wrinkles there could ever possibly be with his perfect posture. He didn't have many similarities with your father, but you were quite disoriented. He was at a counter with his back towards you.
“Dad…?” You muttered out in a somewhat shaky voice of pain. Your head felt like it was getting worse.
The man paused in what he was doing at the sound. He took a moment before turning to look at you. He had gray hair and wrinkles along his forehead, which were both no doubt from aging. And he had a nice mustache as well. It was clear he had a nice job to get such a nice suit as the one he wore.
“Ah, I see you are finally awake,” He said, more of an observation than trying to speak to you. “I am Alfred Pennyworth,” Cassandra had already told him of her own observations that you couldn't understand much, but it looked like you could. No one knew to what extent of speech you knew and didn’t know. He grabbed the tray off of the counter he was just at. He stepped towards you and put it down on the bed next to you.
You almost curled away from him. Like a scared stray dog. Your gaze traveled to the tray, his hand, and then him. The tray had an assortment of little items on it. You couldn't tell what they were. They smelled good, but..
The man backed away from you, noticing your movement and cautious gaze.
“Go on,” he gestured toward the tray. “It is safe,” he offered a kind gaze. But he was meant with nothing but a mean scowl from you. He knew this was going nowhere, “I will return shortly.”
You watched him turn his back toward you. And you watched him leave.
It took a moment before you looked down the tray. You hesitantly reached a hand over, poking the little sandwiches on the tray before picking it up and smelling it. You took a tiny and cautious bite. It actually tasted.. Good..
You are so accustomed to the lazily prepared and bad tasting food that your father would feed you. So these tiny little sandwiches seemed like a delicacy. One that you could not stop eating.
You only stopped when someone stepped into the room that resembled that of a hospital one.
The old man had returned, then behind him came a red-head in a chair with wheels and two ravenettes in after her. The four stopped when they looked at you. The tray of 14 little sandwiches was down to about 3 now.
Alfred smiled at you, even if you had gone back to your stiff and cautious curl you could manage. Your body pressed against the arm of the hospital bed.
“I see you enjoyed the snack,” Alfred said, “Excuse me while I make some more for our guest.” He had turned to the three.
“Of course, it's no worries at all!�� The red head told him with a smile before he made his exit.
You watched him leave, your gaze immediately turning to the three that entered farther into the room.
The woman with short black hair looked at you. You hated her gaze. You hated the pity you saw. And you hated the color. And you just hated it. You hated her.
“Hello,” the red head said, wheeling her chair a bit closer to the bed you were sitting in. “I'm Barbara,” her voice was sweet, gentle, and soft. “This is Bruce,” she gestured to the man with black hair who moved to stand behind her. “And that is Cassandra.” She stood farther away from the bed, her arms crossed, “Though you probably.. Already know her.” Barbara glanced at you, watching your reaction. Bruce watched carefully as well. You just glanced around at everyone warily.
Why weren't you locked up? Why weren't you getting worse treatment than just being cuffed to the arm of a hospital bed. You’ve seen your father kill and torture his enemies. Why wasn't that happening to you?
“What's your name?” Barbara asked you gently. Bruce stood behind the chair she sat in, still watching you.
“I…” Your voice was quiet, and you were hesitant, you looked away stubbornly. “Can’t tell.” Though you did keep the three in your peripheral. The three were a bit disconcerted from that answer. You were young, possibly younger than Damian, so why couldn’t you tell them?
“Why not?” The redhead asked. You didn’t answer so she moved on. “What about your age?” She asked gently, her gaze reassuring. You stubbornly shook your head. Barbara looked behind herself at Bruce, the two sharing the same look.
“I understand you are scared, but-” Bruce was cut off.
“Not scared.” You sent him a scowl.
“Alright, you aren’t scared,” he restated, “Either way we need to know why you were working for someone like Kerrim.”
You looked away again. “Please, we want to help,” Barbara urged.
“Nothing,” You said, voice cracking subtly for a second in your uncertainty.
“Nothing?” Barbara questioned.
“Nothing I know.” You said.
“What does that mean?” Barbara asked. She had a good idea what you meant. She was a genius, after all. But she wanted to hear it from your perspective.
“They don’t know anything,” Everyone looked to the doorway. There stood a boy with a dog next to him. “But they’re lying.” His gaze narrowed on you in a glare. And you returned that glare with a scowl.
“Damian?” Barbara questioned.
“You do know something,” He walked in, his hands in his pockets and the dog at his side. “You just won’t give it up.”
Everyone was silent for a beat.
“Or,” Damian spoke up through the silence, “You were taught not to.” Damian could see through you. “Am I right?” He raised a brow, the cocky smirk that looked to be an insanely good impersonation of Robin (crazy, right?). Your scowl only deepened. When Alfred came into the room with another tray of little sandwiches, you tried to push yourself farther into the armrest on the bed. Damian picked off one of the little sandwiches as he said, “Seems I am.” His gaze shifted towards Bruce, “Should I continue?” He asked arrogantly.
“I believe there is no need for that, Master Damian.” Alfred spoke as he placed the newly acquired tray of sandwiches on the bed and placed the ones from the other tray onto it and took the old tray. He diligently backed away from the bed and in turn, you. He didn’t wish to make this any more stressful for you than it already was.
“Alfred is right,” Bruce agreed.
“Bruce,” A boy with black hair peeked into the room, a laptop in his hands. “Could I speak with you,” he insinuated to talking away from this room.
“Yes,” Bruce said, looking at you. “Barbara, Alfred, stay with them.” He told the two. “Damian and Cassandra, come with us.”
The two obeyed, following him out of the room. But, the dog next to Damian's side stayed in the room instead of following him out. The big dog came to sit next to the chair Barbara was in.
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“Have you found something, Tim?” Bruce asked.
“A little,” the boy answered as he led the group back to the main computer he had been working at.
“And that is?” Damian raised a brow.
“I'd appreciate it if you kept the rude remarks to a minimum, thanks.” Tim sighed as he sat in the swivel chair and began to type away. “I couldn't find a lot.” Tim said.
“What did you find?” Bruce asked. He put a hand on the top of the chair and leaned into his other hand he rested on the edge of the desk.
“I tried looking for things based on her description and pictures first. Like missing persons reports or even any pictures that might have been taken out in the open. But I couldn't find anything,” Tim continued to type on the keyboard. “Then I looked for a birth certificate by putting in general information, but also couldn't find anything.”
“Get to the point.” Damian chimed in, getting impatient.
Cassandra had stood quiet, listening intently. Something about you she felt like she knew. She felt like she knew you. But she knew she didn't. She would probably recall meeting a young child adept at fighting that had electricity powers.
“Getting there,” Tim grumbled, finally pulling up a DNA Match screen. “Then, I had Alfred help grab something to use for a DNA match,” He cleared out the other screens in the way.
On the big computer screen was a picture displayed of you, and then one next to it. The picture next to the one of you was of Cassandra, much to Damian, her's, and Bruce's surprise. The words,
‘Closest Match’
were flashing on the screen.
“Now, the kid is obviously not in the database,” Tim pushed against the desk, turning the swivel chair to look at the three. “But they are related to Cass.”
Cass stood stunned, staring at the computer screen. Maybe there was a reasoning to why you were so familiar to her…
The four looking at the computer, Tim at the others, heard a sudden zap, then a few barks and yells. Everyone whipped to look at the door.
“Hey, hey, no!” Barbara's voice sounded from the room.
Not long at all afterward, you came out of the room as quickly as you could. Though you were significantly slower.
Bruce stepped forward, but he stopped when he caught your gaze. Your venomous gaze that would have sent shivers down anyone's spine who didn't deal with people like this a lot. But it caught Bruce off guard.
It wasn’t as much about the venom in your glare. It was what you reminded him of.
You reminded him of something like a stray animal. One that has been mistreated over the years, had to fight for food. Lost loved ones, been abandoned.
Your gaze traveled across everyone in the room.
“Don't!” You yelled when you saw Tim stand up. “Don't, come.. Come near!” You figured out your words. Tim and Cassandra shared a glance.
“Just..” You looked at Bruce quickly. “Calm down.” He kept his tone as soft as he could manage. He puts a hand out, tries to ease your emotions.
You finally noticed Damian. He had gotten closer without your realizing. Your reaction time has decreased with how exhausted you still were. You managed to back away from his hand in the nick of time.
“Damian no!” Cassandra yelled when she saw Damian about to punch at you.
Damian hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting to Cassandra momentarily. You took the opportunity to send a kick at him. He dodged. You started sending more attacks, all being significantly slower than they had been when you first ran into the vigilantes.
Damian only dodged your attacks, slowly backing away throughout the area. No one else intervened. It was all happening too quickly.
You were already charging up the electricity in your arm. It wrapped and flickered around your arm, quickly traveling down to your hand. You threw your hand out, sending the shot of electricity at Damian, but he ducked, effectively dodging it.
Your eyes felt heavy. Your own arm you had just used felt numb and tingly. Your legs shook, and your heart was racing. And you were falling..
Damian moved quickly, still in his crouch from ducking. He opened his arms and you fell into him, your head landing on his chest.
Damian put a hand around your shoulder, holding it firmly, making sure you wouldn't try to get up, but he already knew you couldn't with how weak you were.
And you weakly trying to push against him to get away from him only proved that.
“Get away,” you said, voice shaking. “Get. Get..” You weakly pushed. “Get away. Get away..” You sounded like a broken record. Voice continuously breaking, and also continuously repeating yourself. “Please.. Get away!” You cried.
“Calm down!” Damian told you.
“Away! Away! Away!” You continued to cry.
“Hey, I told you to calm down!” Damian kept his voice a firm but calm tone. “You're safe, no one will hurt you!” He glanced at the woman who had approached and crouched next to the two of you. You hadn't noticed her.
You hadn't noticed her until she was pulling you away from Damian’s arms and into her own.
“Shh,” Cassandra held you tightly in her arms against her chest, “It's okay,” she rested her forehead against your head.
“Get away!” Your voice grew louder, more desperate, more hysterical. “Get,” She shushed you again, “Get away..” Your voice was growing quieter. “Get away.” A mutter now.
She was.. Cassandra was warm, and.. You couldn’t understand anything that was happening. Too much is happening. This warmth was foreign. And the want to lean into her was foreign, and quite frankly an unwelcome feeling you didn't want in your body.
“It's okay,” She told you softly, “I have you.” She wasn't sure why she felt the need to protect you. To hold you tightly. To never let go. To always keep you safe.
Why did the words make your stomach tighten like they did? And your heart felt weird. Almost worrisome to you if you had the time to think of your heart of all things.
You tried to fight the way your eyes grew heavier. “Get away..” Your voice was quiet, shaky, and tired. “Get..” You breathed, “Get away..”
You were asleep…
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<- Chapter 1 Chapter 3 ->
@redh00dsbf @02006
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whxtedreams · 4 months
Text
Blood Runs Thicker than Water Masterlist
A Joel & F!Reader Mini Series. (Platonic DBF!)
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A five-part series following Joel and his best friend's daughter through the end of the world and each time they find eachother.
The Blood
Joel Miller was a good, honest man before the world fell apart. Each time he promises you that he'll come back for you - that he'll save you - he feels the good and honest man he once was, die inside him little by little. He tries to fight his way back to you but every time he finds where he left you, he's too late and you're lost in the world again.
Every time Joel finds you, he fights harder and harder to keep you with him, to keep the promise he made to your father all those years ago- to keep you safe.
He fails you time and time again, fails himself.
The Water
You were four the first time Joel told you he would come back. You were four the first time you cried as he watched him leave you behind for someone more important. Then you were eight, sixteen, twenty four and now as you hear him tell you once more at twenty six, you laugh at him. "We both know that's a lie."
With every time Joel finds you just to leave you to save someone else closer to him, a part of yourself dies as he turns his back to you.
He fails you time and time again.
Until he doesn't.
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Main Current Tags
PLATONIC!RELATIONSHIP, Joel & Reader, dbf!Joel, abadonment, child!reader(ages 4,8,16,24,26), Joel is really trying his best I swear, foster father/daughter relationship, reader adores Joel, Joel calls reader she/her/little monster/baby/baby girl/his girl/Princess , Joel is a little shit, Joel can’t express his feelings, Joel is just a tired dad, Joel not having his shit together, panic, Joel is just full of anxiety, father!joel, soft!joel, outbreak day, fear, injury, violence,Grief, mentions of loss, brief suicidal thoughts (joel) - like im talking two sentences at most, depressed!joel, typical outbreak emotions and actions, Raider!Joel, OC!reader's father: Myles, happy family, descriptions of joel killing someone, implications to torture - but not written in detail, protective!Joel, clickers, hordes, killing clickers - game style (I tried at least), persuaded kill, multiple POV,
WAY more tags to come and each chapter is tagged.
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Chapter List - ongoing
Current Word Count: 51.2k
Part 1: The Babysitter and the Abandonment
Chapter 1: The Little Monster // 1.6k Chapter 2: The Fairy and the King // 2.9k Chapter 3: The Failed Birthday // 2.3k Chapter 4: At the End of the World // 3.7k Chapter 5: Dead Man Walking // 1.1k
Part 2: The Raider and the Guilt (currently writing)
Chapter 6: A Fragile Existence // 3.6k Chapter 7: a Child Would have Cried // 2.6k Chapter 8: A Run of Good Luck // 5.3k Chapter 9: Just Like Old Times // 4.6k Chapter 10: What Reminds You of Them // 2.3k Chapter 11: The Resort // 3.5k Chapter 12: Forever with You // 5.3k Chapter 13: No Saints Left // 4.7k Chapter 14: Forever Without You // 0.9k Chapter 15: Bloodstained Floors // 1.7k Chapter 16: Crawl Home to Them // 4.4k Chapter 17:
Part 3: The Smuggler and the Pain
Part 4: The Cargo and the Choice
Part 5: The Apologist and the Forgiven
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Mood Board
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If you want to be added to the tag list, please comment on THIS post and i'll make sure to add you. If you want to be taken off the tag list, please dm me so I don't miss your request.
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