#i forget if later tags are counted still and i will be so sad if they arent i just forgot ...

[sqlmn]

Seeing as the person who drew this for me and listens to me yell about these two and Rudyard is currently Illegal For Tumblr, I have been given permission to post this!

So a huge thank you I'm crying @ gunhorse ;0; my kids look great and I wuv them... I'm sobbing.

(And for those wondering, the agent named Bravo encounters Katale a fair amount though completely intentional from her. He thinks that she's just a very nice woman who got mixed up in the wrong crowd and she doesn't seem to wish him hard and he doesn't wish her harm so in the end when he sees her he's putting his gun away into a shoulder holster because he's a Good Boy.)

[parfaitblogs]

illicit affairs ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you want more than spencer reid can give you. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: angst (18+ for suggestive content) tags: relation(situation)ship. s7 spencer. mentions of past intimacy. unrequited feelings. spencer's not the best person ever. kinda fade to black & unhappy ending (welcome back june parfaitblogs). reader has kinda bad self-worth. word count: 2.5k a/n: soooo fucking cliche man chases the girl after she leaves. im sorry. except im not. so sorry for whatever ooc thing spencer reid does in this. except it isnt ooc. tell me he didnt have a whore phase in s7. u cant. im sorry this is soooo dialogue heavy LOL.

Fractured shards of your soul scatter this apartment. 

This Godforsaken green-walled, quaint apartment, that you had spent so much of your time in. Nights, not days, because his days were spent yearning for an engaged woman. His nights, however, were reserved for you. Most of them, at least. Some of them. A few of them. Not many of them at all, actually.

It was a little embarrassing; how much of yourself you were willing to disrespect for some attention from a man who probably didn't think much about you outside of your presence inside his walls. But then he would touch you, and he would kiss you, and all self-deprecation will go out the window. For he is so gentle, and he knows every single crevice and button to press on your body like he speaks its language. 

Embarrassing.

It started innocently. A night spent with him after you had been broken up with, resulting in one awful decision that led to the other. Crying in his arms, to kissing him, to having sex, which he was rebutting all up until it actually happened. Rambling about transference while still leaving open-mouthed kisses down your neck, shaking his head because you two should not be doing this. 

A week later you went back to him. You were sad, in your defence, and Spencer Reid was your friend first. He was good at distracting you, you learned. You would cry, and thus, he would make you come to forget about it. Like clockwork. 

At some point it changed from a coping mechanism, to an emotional necessity. You stopped thinking about your broken heart, and instead about how good Spencer was to you. Which might've been your biggest mistake.

You were not to him what he was to you anymore. 

And maybe he knew that. A laughable idea, because Spencer Reid, who could be slapped in the face with a poster that said I am in love with you in big bold letters, would still be oblivious to it all. But maybe he knew.

You had to ask this time to come over. Maybe pathetic, how much of your self-worth you relied on whether or not a man you weren't even dating wanted to see you. How much of your world had crumbled around you because it had been two weeks and he hadn't spoken to you outside of discussing a case. 

It was definitely pathetic how small you felt as you sat in the corner of his couch, a glass of water you didn't really want to drink encased in your palms, condensation seeping into your skin. In your defence, it didn't usually go like this. Usually, it took you all of three seconds to get insidehis apartment before he started kissing you. Why wasn't he kissing you?

You could hear the faint sound of shuffling behind you, glasses clinking together and ceramics settling on the marble countertop. The only other indicator Spencer was even there was his irregular breathing. Irregular from what, you didn't know. 

Another beat of silence passed, and with it, your patience. You set the glass down on the coffee table — something he would’ve scolded you over if not for the thick layer of tension between you two.

"Did you not want me to come over?" You regret the words the second they're out of your mouth, and they uncomfortably pierce the air, only to be followed by another thick blanket of fucking silence. You had already said it — you might as well commit. "Spencer?" 

You lifted your gaze from its fixated position on your lap to find him standing still in the kitchen, a bowl in his hands, still damp from its time in the dishwasher. 

"You know you're always welcome here," he replied when you had locked gazes. 

"That's not what I asked," you said, readjusting your body, chest pressed up against the back of the couch, chin resting atop its ledge. You watched as he dried the bowl and put it away, his shoulders deflating, before he turned back to face you. 

"I do want you here," he said, but even with the finality in his voice, you were sceptical. 

"Are you sure?" you despised the insecurity that seeped into your tone.

He stilled again, and even with the distance between you two, you could see gears turning behind his eyes, coming up with a response that wouldn't break your heart, probably. Because he knew.

He could lie. Say that yes, he is sure, and he does want you in his apartment right now, and he wasn't simply entertaining your own desires. Desires that he seemingly had grown tired of. But you would figure him out immediately, and maybe he knew that as well. Stupidly smart Spencer Reid thinking ahead, frustratingly so. 

Instead, he said your name, in an awfully cautious tone. Maybe lying would've hurt less. He took a step around the kitchen counter, ever so slowly closing the distance between you two. 

"It's okay if you don't want me here," you tell him, forcing a reassuring smile and stopping him in his tracks. "You're not forced to amuse me."

"Do you think that's what I'm doing?"

"Yes. You've hardly said a word to me, and I've been here twenty minutes," you rebutted. 

"I told you on the phone that I had some maintenance chores to do." Okay, true. "Once they're done, I'm all yours."

You shouldn't say anything. You knew that. The words on the tip of your tongue would cause an argument, and he had just technically promised to do what you both knew you had come to do, and after two weeks of hearing nothing, any attention from him was good attention. You shouldn't.

But you did. "Are you really?"

His eyes closed and a harsher breath of air expelled through his nose, his hands flexing by his side as he took a moment to respond. "What does that mean?"

"Are you really all mine?" you cringed even as you asked the question. And, you already knew the answer. 

"What do you want my answer to be?"

You could scream. "That isn't fair, Spencer."

"Do you want it to be yes?"

You didn't want to answer that honestly, too afraid of the rejection that was sure to follow. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, this is a relationship, and relationships need communication—"

"—A relationship?" you repeated back to him, incredulously. "You think this is a relationship?" 

Fingers dug into his eyes, and his shoulders sagged further. "What is it, then?"

"Convenient." The word stung even you, despite being the one to have said it. 

Or maybe it didn't hurt him. For he responded, in an achingly calm tone, "Explain that to me."

"Don't use profiling techniques on me," you countered, and he watched as your walls shot up around you. 

"Asking you to explain something to me isn't a profiling technique," he said, taking another step towards your residence on the couch.

"No, but the tone of voice you're using is."

"Would you rather I yell at you?"

"No—Spencer," you stammered so frustratingly in an attempt to come up with a response, emotions taking authority of your brain functions. "I come here when I'm sad, we fuck, I go home. That's all this is. That isn't a relationship."

"I could argue what a relationship legitimately is."

"Please don't."

"Okay," he agreed with a short nod. "Do you want more out of this arrangement, then?"

"Can you give me more if I do?"

His silence was answer enough, and so slowly but surely, you were untangling your limbs from themselves on the couch, and planting your feet on the floor.

"Where are you going?" he asked as you stood up.

"Home," you replied, curtly, and he watched in a still silence as you left. 

The slam of his apartment door was loud, and it echoed throughout the hall. Feet pattered against the stairs as you descended them, quickly, because your tears were forming fast and you were attempting to beat exposure to the outside world before they started to fall down your face. 

But the universe had other plans for you, and your named reverberated throughout the final staircase you had to descend. Your lips pulled into a line in an attempt to neutralise your expression, and you turned at the base of the stairs.

"You want more with me," he said, admittedly a little breathless from chasing you the way he did. 

"Glad you could deduce that one, Doctor."

A frustrated huff left his lips. "Stop shutting me out."

"I'm not doing this here," you replied, taking another step back — that he matched, stepping down a step. "Spencer."

"No, we are. If you are going to walk out of my apartment, then we're having this conversation here."

"I don't even want to have this conversation," you argued. 

"Yes you do."

"You don't know me."

"Yes I do." When you opened your mouth to argue again, he was quick to cut you off. "You want more with me, but you're too scared of me rejecting you, so you're brushing it off as something unimportant, in hopes that I'll forget about it so things can go back to what they were before."

"God forbid."

His lips pursed. "Can you be an adult about this?" 

Your heart stuttered uncomfortably in your chest, and he stared expectingly at you for minutes. Minutes that you let pass, your breaths shallow as you stared up at him, boring holes into his own eyes. Then, "Are you going to reject me?" 

"Yes, but—"

Oh.

Somewhere your name was said once, then twice, but it all sounded far too distant, submerged underwater, maybe. Your brain muddling with every single thought it had ever conjured up in all your years of living, to the point where you couldn't even figure out if the tears burning your eyes were actually there, communications in your brain on lockdown. 

You were detached from your own body as a hand was placed on your shoulder, your eyes flickering over to Spencer's face, which was an alarming amount closer than before. It was his hand, you figured, which meant he was watching you have this breakdown, and suddenly the thought of being like this in front of him was far worse than anything he could've said to you. 

"Okay," you said, almost breathlessly, stumbling back a few steps, nodding your head, and blinking away the tears all at once. "Which is fine, by the way. Because this isn't a relationship. And we agreed on casual sex, so really, you're not doing anything surprising, and I should've expected this. Yeah."

"Can you please look at me?" You hadn't even realised your gaze was flitting around the place until he said it, and you forced your eyes to rest on his face again. "Yeah, there you go. Hi. Deep breath."

You took in the gulp of air, despite it still being shallow from your onslaught of emotions, matching your rhythm with his own. He repeated the act a few more times, until you had settled into less violent gasps, and he was sure you were grounded with him again. 

"You back with me?" he asked just in case, his voice horrifically gentle, and you wordlessly nodded your head. "Can we talk about this, now?"

"In your stairwell?"

"I don't think you want to walk all the way up to my apartment again," he said, and he was correct; you didn't. "I would reject you. That's true."

"Which you're allowed to do," you answered, quietly. 

"I am," he agreed with a nod. "If that isn't okay with you, then tell me. We can call this off right now."

"And what?" you asked, ugly emotions clawing their way up your throat again. "Go back to how things were before?"

"Well, yes—"

"—No, Spencer!" you snapped, and he seemingly hadn't expected it. At all. "I can't go back to normal with you, not after this. Sex is fucking intimate, and it is scary, and you have seen me at my absolute worst and still slept with me these last few months. You have seen parts of me I refuse to share with anyone, because I trusted you."

"I didn't force you to do that," he countered. "You showed me every single side of you on your own accord. So do not paint me to be a villain."

"I'm not trying to," your voice was desperate, and if you weren't so busy using your hands to talk animatedly, you might be tearing out your hair by now. "I just—I don't get it. How was it so casual for you? How can you go back to what we had before all of this like it's nothing?" 

"All of this was never anything serious. We agreed on that."

"No. No, don't explain what this was to me. I know what it was. Answer the question."

How was he so calm? His eyes searching your own now tear-filled ones, but the crease in his brows was the only indicator of any emotion, for his body was alarmingly relaxed. 

He exhaled, "I don't know what to tell you. What do you want to hear?"

"The truth."

"I don't have feelings for you," he said, voice so curt you wondered if it was the way he said it, or what he said, that shattered your barely mended heart. Again. 

"Which is fine," you repeated the phrase, because maybe if you said it enough, you'll start to believe it. 

"So, do you want to call this off?" 

"We should."

He only nodded in agreement; a violent reminder that you weren't imagining the things he was saying to you. This wasn't a bad dream, and he was actually telling you the relationship you had built up in your head wasn't real. 

"I don't want to," you murmured, voice pathetically small, shrinking in your shoes beneath him. "I really like you, Spencer."

"Which is why we should call this off," he reasoned, and you wanted to scream.

"Are you going to be even a little sad if we do?" He parted his lips, and a beat of silence passed. And then you were stepping back, puffing out a strained breath of air, nodding your head in understanding. "I should go."

"You won't talk to me if we call it off," he said before you could get too far from him. When you turned to look at him again, he added, "Will you?"

"No."

"Then yes. I'll be sad."

"Because I won't talk to you?"

"Yes."

You stared at him for a beat longer. "Not because you won't have a fuck buddy anymore?"

"You were never just a fuck buddy," he said, exasperated, the phrase sounding foreign on his tongue. Sorry for exasperating you.

"No. But I'm not enough to like, right?" 

He said your name, and stepped off the staircase he had been residing on, lowering the height difference between you two. "You are enough to like."

"Not to you!" "I am not the only man in the world."

The bottomless pit in your stomach grew larger, only because to you he was. To you, he was everything. And you felt things far too big, and the realisation that he had never and will never see you that way was a world-shattering discovery. 

You sighed, lowering your gaze to the floor. "We never should have started this."

"I agree." 

"I'm gonna go."

He opened his mouth, then closed it, seemingly deciding against arguing with you any more. He merely nodded his head, and forced a smile. "Yeah."

"Bye, Spencer."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[cheapshrimpysheep]

I'm Sorry I Left You Behind

SUMMARY: The Bead Brawl tournament ends and Leona, Kalim, Vil and Lilia run away leaving you, Grim and Jack behind. Later, they will realize that they hurt you by doing this to you and will apologize to you.

CHARACTERS: Kalim Al-Asim; Vil Schoenheit; Lilia Vanrouge

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Comfort

WARNING: Spoilers from Cloudcalling on the Savanna (Sunset Savanna's Tamashina-Mina) and its respective cards.

WORD COUNT: An average of 640 words per character.

COMMENTS: At first, I was going to write scenarios for all the event cards, but as Leona's was so personal, it ended up inspiring me to write a lot. So I decided to let him have his solo post:

There's a Calm Surrender (Leona Kingscholar x Reader)

By the way, I was undecided whether to use the name Neji or Kifaji, so I used both. 😅

I hope you enjoy. 😘

CONTEXT: To escape from Cheka, Neji(Kifaji) and the palace guards who were with them, Leona rushed to the car to drive back to the hotel. Vil, Kalim and Lilia went with him. And you, Grim and Jack were left behind in the rain.

I mean, Leona wanted to escape and the car didn't have seats for everyone but... still... it made you a little sad. At least you had Jack who never left your side. Eventually, Cheka and Neji(Kifaji) reached you, after Leona and the others had already fled. Of course the first thing Neji(Kifaji) did was apologize for Leona's rudeness and offer to take you back to the hotel.

When you arrived at the hotel, you went to your room with the intention of showering and changing your clothes. But before you can do that, someone knocks on your door.

“[Y/N]! You won't believe the ride we took with Leona.” Kalim tells you, enthusiastically. “It was amazing! I’ve never been in a car that shook that hard! It was so heart-pounding...” He stops himself when he actually looks at you. “Ho! [Y/N] You're soaking wet! What-?” and then he remembers “HA! We left you behind in the rain! I'm so sorry! Do you need anything? I can go ask for more towels for you.”

You say it's not necessary, that you're fine, you just need to take a shower and change your clothes.

“I'm glad. Let me know when you're done, okay? I really want to tell you about the ride... And made up for leaving without you.”

You shower, put on your pajamas, and text Kalim that you’re ready. But then, seeing Grim sleeping and remembering that Kalim can talk loudly without realizing it, you send him another message asking if you could be the one to go to his room instead, so you can be more comfortable talking without worrying about waking Grim up. He says it is a great idea and that you're welcome in his room anytime. Plus: “But come quickly. I really want to talk and be with you.”

SUNSET VILLA - KALIM'S ROOM

Kalim opens the door for you. It shouldn't be a surprise to discover that he had a much fancier and more luxurious room than yours. He closes the door and takes both of your hands to take you with him to sit on the bed.

“I have lots of snacks, you can eat whatever you want.” he tells you with a smile and pointing to a large basket full of traditional snacks.

He excitedly tells you how crazy and fun the ride with Leona was. And about when Jamil finally found him. You wanted to be happy that he had so much fun, but you couldn't shake the thought that while all that was happening you had been left behind in the rain, as if it would be easy for them to forget about you. And it showed on your face.

“Hmm? What’s wrong? Don't you like the taste?” He asks as you were eating one of the snacks. “You can always leave it aside and choose another one, no problem.”

You say that's not it and your expression becomes sadder as you wonder if you should tell him what you were really thinking.

“Well, I can see you're sad. Can you tell me what's going on. Nothing would make me happier than seeing a smile back on your face.” He smiles innocently.

You decide to tell him and say how abandoned and forgotten you felt.

“Oh no! I'm so sorry for doing this to you! We didn't want to abandon you and we didn't forget you. Well... I mean... I think technically with all the adrenaline we forget... But it wasn't out of spite! We just...” he sighs “No, there is no excuse. We did you wrong. I should have stayed with you.” There is a short pause. “I know a hug isn't enough to fix things, but can I give you one?”

You let him and he wraps his arms around you. It's very comforting, you feel a strong but gentle hug, that meanwhile loosens without releasing you.

“Can you forgive me?” He asks in a soft and sad voice, close to your ear, still hugging you. “I promise I won't do it again. I’ll never leave you again.”

You gently ask about what he just said. He breaks the hug calmly to look at you, still with his hands on your arms.

“I really like you. I feel really bad knowing that I hurt you. I don't want to do that again. I want to see you happy and smiling and I want to share all the good and fun moments I have with you. So I will never leave you behind again. It's a promise!”

When you arrived at the hotel, you went to your room to shower and change your clothes, but before you enter the bathroom, you receive a message. It's from Vil.

“I heard that you have already arrived. I would like to talk with you. Take a shower and let me know when you're dressed.” You reply to him to confirm that you saw the message, and shortly he replies to you: “I stopped by your room earlier and left the soap soap packed with hot spring minerals I bought in your bathroom for you to use this. But it's just this once, then I'll take it back with me. So enjoy it, but don't spend too much.”

You do so. You not only feel more comfy but more relaxed. You put on your pajamas and text Vil that you're ready.

“Grim is sleeping, isn't he? I'd like to talk without worrying about waking him up. Could you come to my room?” You say that you can and that you are going there now. “Thank you, [Y/N]. I'll try not to steal too much of your rest time.”

SUNSET VILLA - VIL'S ROOM

You knock on Vil's room door saying it's you, and you hear his voice giving you permission to enter. You enter and see him sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his legs stretched out on the bed and a bandage on one of his ankles with a bag of ice on top.

“There is no need to worry.” Vil tells you. “Personally, I think they are exaggerating a bit, but it wouldn’t be wise of me to refuse treatment.”

You close the door behind you and go to sit next to him on the bed. You look at his ankle again and sees that it and his foot are very swollen. You ask if it's really the doctors who are exaggerating or he who doesn't want to make a big deal of it.

He sighs. “Very well. I may have gone too far in hiding my injury and making it worse during the tournament. But now everything is under control. So please don't worry, okay?” He smiles to reassure you. “It is another subject I wanted to talk to you about.”

“And what is it?” You ask.

“I am sorry.” Vil’s words and look say.

“For what?”

“For leaving you behind and in the rain. I know it was Leona who ran away and left his guests behind, but I was one of those who went after him and got into the car. Which is equally rude and inelegant. You supported us the whole time and did what you could to help us and not be a burden and we treated you like one in the end, and for that I am deeply sorry. Did you arrive well at the hotel? Any symptoms of a cold?”

You answer no, that you arrived well, Neji(Kifaji) took it upon himself to guarantee that.

“I see. I must thank him, and apologize as well.” He smells the air. “Ah, you used the soap I left for you.” And you apologize for forgetting to bring it back. “It's okay. You can return it to me tomorrow. I can see that it's really good, the skin on your face looks beautifully healthy.” You smile thanking him. “You know, come to think of it, you can keep the soap. That skin matches that smile very well.” He smiles, and then laughs when he sees how flattered you got. “You should go back to bed now. It would be a shame to ruin the effects of your bath with a short night's rest.”

You agree and get up, but before leaving you notice his foot again and ask if he would like you to help him lie down.

“I told you you didn't need to worry. But thank you, I'll be fine.”

How silly, he was right. You rephrase the sentence: You WILL help him lie down.

“[Y/N], I already told you-” But you pretend you're not listening, and hold the bag of ice with one hand and his foot in the other. You look at him as a sign that he can settle in bed now. He sighs as he does so. “You are so stubborn. It's almost charming.”

“Almost?”

He laughs softly. “Stubbornness isn't charming most of the time, but... I think you can make it quite cute.”

You thank him for the compliment, and feeling bold, you lean in and kiss his forehead. “Good night, Vil.” As you start to straighten up, you feel a hand on your arm pulling you back. And he kisses your cheek.

“Good night, [Y/N].” he whispers with a smile. “And thank you.”

You arrive at the hotel and go to your room. You take a shower, put on your pajamas and when you're about to go to bed, you hear a light knock on the door. Grim groans and turns over, but doesn't wake up. You get closer to the door to ask who it is, but before you do it, you get your answer.

“It's the cute old me.” you hear Lilia's voice on the other side. You open the door. “Hi [Y/N]. Sorry to interrupt your rest, but I wanted to tell you something.” He says quietly. He leans to the side to see Grim sleeping behind you. “But maybe we should do it somewhere else. I don't want to wake Grim... again. In my room perhaps? I have some snacks.” he smiles invitingly.

SUNSET VILLA - LILIA'S ROOM

The two of you enter Lilia's room and he immediately grabs a bag full of snacks. He sits on the bed and invites you to sit next to him, with the bag between you.

“You can take whatever you want if you are hungry.” He says. You take one and it continues. “You didn't catch a cold, did you?”

You seem a little confused at first, but then you realize what he's referring to. You say no, and that you immediately took a hot bath when you arrived, but regardless of whether you tried to hide it or not, Lilia would immediately realize that you were sad about what happened.

“My deepest apologies.” he says regretfully. “I knew you wouldn't be in danger. You were with Jack and Neji(Kifaji) and the royal guards were sure to bring you back to the hotel safe and sound. That's how I usually see things at first. But... I didn't think about how that act could be interpreted. Running away for fun leaving you behind in the rain. Sounds like abandonment, doesn't it?”

You look away, with a sad expression that confirms what he said.

“That's why I wanted to talk to you. That was absolutely not my intention. I am quite knowledgeable about whether or not someone is at risk physically, but it seems like I'm still learning to understand the same emotionally. After all, what is no big deal for one person can be a very cruel act for another. I'm not saying you're too sensitive, but I think it depends on how much you like the person committing the act, right?”

He holds both your hands in his. “Your heart is your most wonderful quality. And as someone it can love, I should protect it better and not taking it for granted.” He kisses the back of your hands. “Could you forgive me for my mistake?”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[yunniverse]

You’re My Dream

౨ৎ PAIRING— rockstar!jeong yunho x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— fluff, ended relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, fluff

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 1.4k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— you broke up because he was too focused on his music dream, but maybe you and love were the real dream all along.

౨ৎ A/N— i saw a lot of people saying they wanted a oneshot with the concept photos from the 2025 seasons greetings, so i made one! i hope you like it, even though it isn’t quite as angsty as you probably wanted :( still, feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading, lovelies! <3 (i’ll tag a few people who said they were interested if someone wrote one: @beabatiny, @goldendynastys, @kibs-and-bits)

Staring at the fire crackling, you try to hold back the tears that threaten to escape. When had it all gone so wrong?

Just last year, you had been enjoying your boyfriend’s Christmas show with his rock band, and now you’re sitting alone, the night before Christmas.

The crackling of the fire adds to your melancholy, the harsh cold winds blowing outside creating a gloomy atmosphere. You know you should forget like he has, but you can’t throw away two years of your life that easily.

The memories of last Christmas come flooding back to you, even as you try to suppress them. Memories of sitting beside the fire with Yunho, cuddling as you watched a cheesy Christmas movie. Or baking Christmas cookies together at his apartment, laughing as you threw flour at each other.

Turning to the remote controller, you press the power button, not expecting to see him on the screen. His band is playing, and you immediately feel a pang in your chest at the sight of him, his fingers dashing across the keyboard.

Even though he’s the keyboard player and not the lead singer, he has an air about him that draws you in, making it unable to look away, even as you know you should. Why is he still having this effect on you?

The song is one you recognize. “Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call,” by Bleachers.

It’s a song he’d introduced to you last Christmas, and, even though it’s sad, it had been a source of joy for you in a way last year, because you remember dancing to the song with him, smiling and laughing.

Now, it really is sad.

When he gets up at the end of the song, leaning into the microphone, you furrow your eyebrows, listening.

“That song goes out to someone I lost a year ago today.” He looks right at the camera, his brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, baby. I wish it had been different, but know that I never really stopped loving you.”

You gasp, only momentarily questioning if he’s really talking to you, before you jump up, now determined to make things right for some reason. You know it’ll probably end in more heartache, but you have to try.

Grabbing your keys and coat, you hurry out the door into the winter storm, unlocking your car before hopping in.

Even though the roads are horrible tonight, you know the way to his apartment like the back of your hand, only slowing because of the snow.

About twenty minutes later, you arrive at his apartment complex, hurrying out of the car, through the blinding snow, and into the lobby of the building.

You try to calm yourself down, stepping into the elevator and pressing the button to the fourth floor.

When you get to the floor, you walk down the hall, slowing to a stop in front of his door. Taking a deep breath, you knock.

It takes about two minutes, but the door opens, revealing a messy-haired Yunho, a few locks of his dark blue hair having fallen in front of his brown eyes, which widen at the sight of you.

“Y/N?” he whispers, his hand clutching the doorknob so tight you think he might break it. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the program.”

“Oh.”

With a sigh, you rub your arm, biting your lip, really starting to wonder what you’re really doing here yourself. “H-How have you been?”

“Is that really what you’re going to ask?” Yunho asks, giving you a half-smile.

“What else would I say?” you question softly, suddenly feeling stupid for coming to see him. “I can’t just say Merry Christmas or something stupid like I’ve missed you—”

“Can’t you?” he asks, his dark eyes searching yours. “Because I’ve missed you.”

Sighing, you frown slightly, “This can’t be happening. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let me just—“

He grabs your wrist as you turn to leave, making your gaze snap back to his. “Every day without you has been torture. You came to see me for a reason. Do you feel the same?”

“Yunho, it doesn’t matter how we feel. It can’t work now anymore than it did then. We have different goals.”

“We don’t have to!” he exclaims, almost desperately. “I can give up the band if that’s what you want. You were upset it took up so much of my time? I’ll quit.”

Your eyes widen as you shake your head, “Yunho, the reason you couldn’t give it up for me before is because it’s what you love to do. I can’t take that away from you. I can’t make you live without it.”

“Well, I can’t live without you.”

His words hang heavy in the air, making you suck in a sharp breath, “Yunho…”

“Don’t say anything,” Yunho tells you, taking a single step closer. “Just tell me…”

“Tell you what?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing.

“What do you feel?” he asks, just before he leans in, his face inches from yours. Your heartbeat quickens as his warm breath fans across your lips. “If you feel nothing, I’ll leave you alone.”

You’re torn between wanting to close the distance and knowing you shouldn’t.

You don’t have to wait for long.

It feels like the world stops when his soft lips brush against yours for the first time in months. It isn’t like an electric shock, with fireworks exploding, rather it’s like coming home after a long time away. Like warmth and softness and… love.

It only takes a few seconds for you to melt into him, the kiss deepening as he lifts his hands to cup your face, your hands finding his chest, his heartbeat quickens beneath yours fingertips.

After a few moments, he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours as he pants softly, waiting for you to respond.

“I wish I could say I felt nothing,” you whisper, feeling a little helpless against your emotions. “But I can’t. I’ve never been able to.”

“Then give us another chance,” Yunho pleads, his thumbs brushing across your cheekbones. “I meant what I said during the program. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“But what about the band? What about all the reasons we broke up months ago?”

“You and I both know we were being petty then. And I can quit the band, like I said,” Yunho replies, his tone serious.

“I don’t want you to,” you respond quietly, making him furrow his eyebrows.

“What?” he asks slowly, confusion etched into his features.

“I don’t want you to quit what you love,” you clarify. “That’s what ended things between us before. We quit on our love, and I won’t let you quit on the band now. I was stupid to think you loved me any less because of your passion for music. Please don’t stop playing, Yun.”

“Are you sure?” he asks slowly. “It’ll still take up as much time as it did before, maybe more, since we’ve grown a little more popular now.”

“I don’t care,” you smile softly. “All I care about is being with you again. And I won’t let my jealousy over your time get in the way again… as long as you let me come to your shows.”

“Every single one.”

With a small laugh, you lean forward, pressing another soft kiss to his lips before burying your face in his neck, inhaling his calming scent you’ve missed so much.

“Maybe we should get out of the hallway?” Yunho chuckles, tugging your hand, guiding you into his apartment. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

You smile shyly, nodding, as you let him close the door behind you both.

Three months later, you’re cheering for Yunho and his band as he performs, smiling widely when he finally comes backstage, his arms open as you laugh, throwing yourself into his arms for a hug. “You did so well, Yunnie,” you whisper in his ear.

He grins, nuzzling his nose into your hair, “Thank you, baby. You’re always the best cheerleader.”

“Can’t say I don’t like the fake tattoos on your hands either,” you tell him wryly, tracing the markings with your finger.

“Oh?” he asks, chuckling softly, his eyes sparking with mischief. “Maybe I’ll leave them on for a little while. And I’ll be sure to tell the stylist you like them.”

“Good,” you grin. “I’m good with anything now as long as you never tell me ‘please don’t call’ like you did last winter ever again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Too Sweet

A/N: Hi friends. I haven't written anything in a while, as I've been tussling with my mental health and raging SAD from the weather near me. Please accept this Mandalorian drabble? Rambling? Takes place between the end of season two and Din's appearance in the Book of Boba Fett. Tags: The Mandalorian, Mandalorian x Reader, Din Djarin x Reader, Mandalorian x F!Reader, Apostate!Din WARNINGS: None Summary: You've been a safe place for Din Djarin for years. He comes to you at his most vulnerable, but always has to leave before you're ready. Title inspired by the Hozier song of the same name.

Word count: 1.6k+

Hours later, you’re still in shock.

Din Djarin is in bed next to you, sans helmet.

It wasn’t unusual for him to be in your home- hell, it would be more unusual for him not to be there between jobs. Your Mandalorian had spent years visiting, hovering somewhere in between a lover and a partner. He shows up in the afternoon one day, and is gone early in the morning before you wake. When he returns, beaten and bruised, you chastise him for leaving without saying goodbye. The routine was comfortable. Familiar. 

Except every other time he had been there, you had never seen his face. 

It feels like a dance each time he comes. You tend to his wounds quickly but gently, lathering cuts and bruises in bacta before wrapping bandages or slings where necessary to let the medication heal. Once you’ve played nurse, Din secludes himself to your study to eat dinner. And each time, without fail, he leads you to the bedroom to extinguish the fireplace and blow out your candles. His hands find your body, and he ravishes you in the darkness. 

Key word being darkness.

Today was the same song and dance. He’d limped into your cabin without greeting, shaking snow from his armored body and settling himself into a kitchen chair while you fussed. A tube of bacta and half a roll of bandages later, he silently trudged away to eat in the study. There was a distinct lack of little green child with him today, which was a major concern after the past year. You suspected it had something to do with the oppressive sense of sorrow following him through the house. So you carried on with your usual routine, asking little to no questions. It wasn’t until he’d crowded you up against the sink, bowl still in your grip as you rinsed it, that he spoke. 

“Mesh’la.”

Strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, and you leaned back into an unarmored chest. In hindsight, you chastised yourself for not noticing the words lacked the electrical buzz of a vocoder. 

“Din.” You returned.

He only grunts, right hand gliding up your side. It grips your shoulder, and presses until you turn to face him, bowl still gripped in your damp fingers. 

“You know, words are- Din!”

The porcelain bowl shattered as it collided with the kitchen floor. You’d dropped it out of pure instinct, hands flying up to cover your eyes. As much as you’d tried to forget what you saw, it was burned into your brain. Wavy hair, long nose with a scar crossing the bridge of it. Big, brown eyes that couldn’t possibly belong to someone so stern and ruthless. It flashes across your mind, and you almost tear up at the thought of Din breaking his Creed after all these years. 

But he’d pulled your hands away and explained - while your eyes are still pinched closed- that he was an apostate. The Child was returned to his own people, but at the cost of Din’s Creed. It had taken minutes of coaxing and reassurance, but you’d opened your eyes and cursed the universe for being so cruel as to hide such a face. From the set of his brow to the nervous biting of his lip, you basked in seeing so much bare skin. It took less time for him to attach his lips to yours and lead you out of the kitchen.

He’d taken you to bed, and now here you sit. 

Your room isn’t anything special. Quaint and cozy if nothing else, with two small windows that face out over the mountain’s edge. A fireplace flickers opposite the bed, its warmth trickling out to the sheets and heating your toes. Two bookshelves border either side of your headboard, with a nightstand tucked on Din’s side of the bed. On it, the usually extinguished candles burn bright. 

The firelight flickers against Din’s tan skin, highlighting each bead of sweat and curled tendril of hair where it sticks to his forehead. He’s naked, back propped against the headboard and covered in a maroon sheet from the waist down. You’ve donned a short silk robe, black and bordered with lace where it plunges between your breasts. You lay between his legs above the sheets, head on his chest. One of his large hands caresses your scalp and trails to the ends of your hair. The other hand is occupied by a half-full glass of old Corellian whiskey. 

You trace a line of yellow bruises on his hip where they extend below the sheet on his lap. 

“What happened to you?”

His chest rumbles. “I fought an Imperial Moff. And Imperial battle droids.”

Your eyes widen, and you sit up. Din’s hand leaves your hair to grasp at your waist, pulling you to face him.

“Stars, Din.” You reach out to touch a patch of black and blue skin over his collarbone. “No wonder you’re so beat up. I’ll get you some more bacta before we go to sleep.”

He lifts your fingers from his collarbone to his mouth, kissing each fingertip. “You’re too good to me, cyar’ika.”

“You deserve it.” Is your instant reply. 

If there was anything you knew about Din, it was that he never quite comprehended the good he brought to the world. 

The Mandalorian brings the whiskey to his lips and takes a swig. You opt to push an errant curl behind his ear. 

“I’m not a good man,” Your name falls off his tongue like honey. “Spent my whole life as kyramud.” 

You tilt your head at the Mando’a. He’d called you some pet names for years- mesh’la, cyar’ika. But this… kyramud was new. Without his helmet, hearing anything out of his mouth was like a drug. But Mando’a warmed you to the core, building off Din’s comfort and fondness when he spoke the ancient tongue. You yearned to know more. 

“Teach me Mando’a.” You kiss him gently, tasting the whiskey where it lingers on his lips. “So I can tell you why you deserve every bit of kindness.”

Din adjusts your legs so you’re sitting square between his, rear end on the bed and calves straddling his waist. He props you up with the ridiculous amount of pillows lying around. 

“I’ll teach you anything you want.” Din strokes your knee. “Where do I start?”

You chew on your bottom lip. “What am I to you?”

“Ner cyare.” He pauses, debating. The whiskey makes another appearance, and you’re distracted by his Adam's apple bobbing deliciously in the column of his throat. “Naysol uj par ni. Each day I see you is aay’han.”

“What does that mean?”

Din tilts your chin up. “My beloved. Too sweet for me.”

You blush. “What about the end? Ay-hen?”

“Aay’han. Mourning and joy. At the same time.” He finishes the whiskey. “I mourn when I leave you here.”

Much to your annoyance, tears prick your eyes at the reminder that when you closed them, he would be gone before you woke. “Don’t remind me. Please.”

Din leans forward to capture your lips with his. The sensation only serves to make the stinging behind your eyes worse, and a single tear drips down your cheek. He’s quick to kiss it away, large hand curling into your hair. You climb all the way into his lap, suddenly desperate for closeness. His skin is hot and damp, and you’ve never felt anything better. 

“Ni ceta. I never meant to hurt you.”

You sniffle against his neck. “Just promise me you’ll say goodbye from now on.”

He wets two fingers with his tongue and extinguishes the candles before cradling you in strong arms. Two words are murmured into your hair, quiet but sound.  

“I promise.”

You grip him tighter than ever, warmth sadly fading as the dread of morning envelopes you. 

*

The reflection of daylight off snow-covered ground wakes you. 

It bounces in your windows, bathing the room in cool white light. You blink slowly, a heaviness settled on all of your limbs. It’s a familiar soreness that aches from your shoulders to between your legs, dredging up memories of the night before. Din’s bare face, and all the sweet words in Mando’a that he tried to teach you before you remembered he can never stay as long as you’d like. You sigh, letting one of your arms dangle off the edge of the bed. The thought of turning over and seeing the candles, thinking about him blowing them out on each visit was too fresh. It’s easier to lay and stew in your sadness, watching fluffy flakes of snow fall. The clock on your wall reads ‘1457’, another unintentional reminder of your late-night escapades.

You hate to admit that the feeling makes you tear up again. So you lay in bed, curled beneath a thick comforter while the fireplace crackles its last few breaths towards your feet. It’s easier to stare at the snow than it is to close your eyes and think about Din. 

“Damn it.” You breathe. 

“What are you damning?”

You swear that you stop breathing for a moment. Despite the fact that he had already spoken, you ask aloud, “Din?”

The sounds of bare feet padding across the floor nears, and the Mandalorian appears in your vision. Barefoot and clad only in a pair of loose gray lounge pants that tighten at his ankles. His abdomen is without cover, displaying an array of healing bruises and deep scars. You sit up, letting your feet hang off the bed. 

“You’re still here?” You look at the clock again. “At 1500?”

Din smiles, kneeling in front of you. He presses a mug of steaming Caf into your hands and a kiss to your forehead. 

“If it’s alright with you… I might be for a while.”

It’s your turn to smile as he smoothes away your bedhead. 

“No arguments.” You sip at the warm mug. “I’ll keep taking my Caf in bed, though.”

___________________________________________________

As always, if you enjoy please like/reblog and check out my links for more :)

Masterlist | Send me ideas

[heyhihellosworld]

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨

Lando Norris x OC Alice Davies

Word Count: 7.6k

Summary: Childhood friends too...?

Warnings: People changing, friendship ending, breakup, very brief smut, Angst!

Notes: Never written for Lando before but this idea seemed fitting for him soo. Also this is not an x reader story but an OC because it felt right and the OC is completely made up, names found on google's first page lol. It's soooo long too hehe. This fic needed so much research and I'm sure it's not all correct, but it is fanfiction, and also it's angstyyyy, probably not a happy ending, sry

2005 Hampshire

"Lando Norris, what are you doing?!" Cisca yelled over the small yard causing the young boy to stop in his tracks. His hand still in Alice's hair as he was in the middle of pulling her to the ground.

"She took my car!" Lando tried to argue but Cisca looked furiously at her young son. "Take your hands out from her hair!"

Lando slowly untangled his hands from Alice's long strands and turned to his mother, having the decency to look slightly ashamed.

He glanced at his younger friend, her face holding a soft pout and her eyes spilling over with tears as she tried to hold them back. Lando always felt guilty when she looked like that, especially when it was his doing.

"Say sorry to Alice!" Lando's mom ordered, the small boy lifting his eyes slightly "Am sorry Alice" he spoke, feeling small under his mothers hard gaze. "You never pull her hair again, okay?"

"Okay, sorry" he muttered, turning around to follow his mother towards the house.

As he started walking he felt sadness creep onto him, he felt sad his mother was angry at him and that Alice had that expression on her face, it was the same one she had when the boys at school poked fun at her or when she knocked at their door because her parents were fighting again. He hated to be the one making her look like that.

Just as the feeling took a hold of him he felt a small hand on his, his head turning to meet Alice's smile, her hand opening his and gently dropping the small car in his palm. It was his favourite which was why she always teased him with it. "I'm sorry I took your car"

"It's okay, as long as you're not mad at me" Lando smiled. His eyes fleeting around before he found what he was looking for, running to the small row of flowers and picking the prettiest one before running back to Alice, hand offering the blue flower.

Her smile split her face open, she loved flowers, especially blue flowers. The girl wrapped her arms around her friend, thanking him with a soft giggle.

Soon enough the two kids happily strutted on, arms around eachother and Cisca looked at them with a fond smile as the kids where all happy again, playing tag in the green grass.

They were innocent, small and new to the world. If only it would always be this easy to forgive and forget.

2006 TeamSport Go track

Alice watched with longing eyes as she watched her friend in the go-kart. It was a competition hense why she was not allowed to join, she didn't necesarily want to compete but she liked to kart and Lando did too. So much he had told his friend he was gonna drive in formula when he got older, he was gonna be in f1 and win the championship.

It was already done

"Are you sure that's possible?" Alice had asked quietly, not to upset him but just because it meant he wouldn't be here, with her forever.

But Lando had told her that of course it was posible and maybe she didn't understand now because she was younger. She was in fact born a year later but she was only barely two months younger, something she had held for herself as she looked at the seven year old boy, his goal already set.

Done and dusted.

It was naive to think that they would spend all summers and years like this even if he wasn't in formula one but it was her thoughts, the underlying inevitable. She didn't want to seperate from him, ever. He was everything she needed and everything she always would need, that she knew.

Even if she was only six.

2008 Hampshire

The sun was bathing on the young girl, her hair sticking out in every directions after their dip in the water, despite the warmth she had a warm smile etched on her face. Laughing with Lando as he threw water on her, chasing her down until she stumbled face first into the cold water.

This was the first time in a long time the two bestfriends were together again. Lando had been busy with his karting and Alice had not been able to follow him around.

The girl squeeled as she found herself underwater, the waves keeping her from the surface as she struggled to get air again. Panic settled in her body before Lando gently pulled her up to the surface, chuckling as she choked on the water she had inhaled. His laughter though, stopped immideately as he watched her face morph from coughing to crying.

"Lando, that was scary" she sobbed softly, wading up to the beach again as Lando followed. He liked teasing the girl but he hated it when he took it to far and she got sad.

"I'm sorry Alice" he pouted, reaching out to help her sort her towel out as it was crumpled to pieces as she tried to smothen it out but she just slapped his hand away.

Lando stood helplessly and watched his friend dry her tears, folding her arms over her chest stubbornly. "I am sorry Alice" Lando said again but her eyes narrowed at him

"I will pick you a flower on our way back" he pleaded, knowing that was gonna make her forgive him, it always did. "Fine, but it's gotta be pretty" she said, a smile slowly forming on her face as he finally relaxed. "Of course" Lando grinned before throwing himself on her towel, pushing her off it as they laughed.

2010 Hampshire

"What do you want to be?"

The question came unexpected and the small girl pouted her lips in thought. Her eyes watching her friend who sat on the soft grass, hand picking on the strands in a way she wanted to tell him off for.

"A vet, a teacher or maybe a doctor" she rambled, Lando giggled, not to poke fun at her but because she looked so deep in thought over this simple question.

Lando already knew his dreams and had always done, it was all they talked about but lately he had pondered about her, had she ever told him? He didn't think so.

It was quite for a little while which made the young girl frown, the silence getting to her, she didn't like silence after she had said something so instead she snapped at Lando.

"Stop picking on the grass, you are destroying it" she muttered sharply, the brunettes hand immideately stopping his assualt on the gren strands. "Sorry" he muttered

Alice gave him a small smile, apologizing. "I think whatever it is you're gonna be great" Lando spoke, gathering the grass he had picked into a pile and blowing it in his friends face.

"Lando!" she half yelled half laughed as she launched over him, pining the laughing brit into the grass, smudging his face with a few strands she had gathered. "Alice!" he laughed, trying to squirm out of her grasp but he didn't have much of a upper-hand to the girl who giggled with him.

2013 Ortona Italy

"You did it!" Alice grinned at her friend as he ran into her open arms, hugging her close to him as he giggled. "I did it" he mumbled into her soft hair. "I told you it was posible! I told you I would do it!" Lando laughed, overjoyed with the result and the win. Alice only giggled, she knew too, she knew anything he set his mind to he could do.

"Karting European Championship winner" he mumbled, smiling as the words reached his ears. This was the beginning, the very beginning to something so much bigger, to his dreams.

Alice watched his smile all afternoon as they celebrated with a big dinner in their rented house. The sun falling beutifully outside of the open deck. The grill was on and their mothers were going around filling up peoples glasses and hugging Lando every chance they got. Everybody was proud, everybody was happy.

It was one of the best days Alice could remember, not an ounce of bad mood everything light hearted and domestic in a way she never realised until years later, looking back at that afternoon.

Sitting with Lando on the edge of the landstrip down to the water, listening to him talk about his race, his dreams his passion as they munched on some sweets they had stolen from the big oak table.

Time seemed to float together as they sat there, feets gently tapping in the water, hands interwined and bodies close to the other. It was the first time they kissed, the two young teenagers to caught up in their own little bubble. To hung up on the sweet love they had always shared for eachother to even realize what kind of territority they stepped into.

2014 World Championship Karting

He could spot her from miles away, her bright smile lightning up in the crowd in front of him. She was the first one with him, the first one aproaching with her arms wide open.

Lando laughed into her embrace as she smiled like an idiot "I'm so happy for you Lando, you are so good!" she praised, his heart swelling twice it's size at her voice and words. "Thank you" he whispererd, meaning it.

When he pulled away from her embrace he had to go back to the track, his friends immideately hogging him up.

"Congrats" George smiled. Lando grinned back, thanking him as he walked with the others to their cars, gathering all of their stuff to go home.

"Hey Lando" Max asked making the boy pull back a little to get even steps with the dutch boy. "Huh?" he questioned, watching his friend pull a slight face. "Just, that girl that is always with you, who is she?" Lando was too stunned to speak, he knew they had grown a lot, to the point were girls and relationship was a hot topic. Someone who had before only been a playmate was now someone people gawked at, rating and thinking up things with. It had been drastic and Lando often thought it got a bit too much.

But he couldn't deny the obvious, the feelings and the thoughts that sometimes bubbled up despite his liking. Alice had grown up to be a beutiful girl, she had always been in Lando's eyes but not in the way he now realized and it hadn't dawned on him that othes thought the same.

Spread laughter sounded around them "Mate, careful" George joked and Max's eyes rolled "Just wondering mate"

"Alice?" Lando stuttered, wanting to scream when Max nodded. She was often with Lando but had never cared for his karting-friends, saying they weren't her type even though she had only watched them from afar.

"Well she is my friend?"

"Friend?" Max repeated "So you are not together?"

Lando conteplated lying but he shook away the thoughts "No, she is my childhood friend"

"Well she is hot"

Lando swallowed hard, gritting his teeth togehter as he didn't say anything else but Max watched him, seeing the obvious discomfort and dislike to his friends comments and decided to let it go, Lando was a good friend and he understood Alice was important for him and he didn't want to step on anyones toes.

"She seems nice, that's all" Max concluded, patting his friend comfortingly on his shoulder before letting the topic change back to the race.

Lando tried to get into the joking mood but he couldn't really let his thoughts move on from Alice. Did she have a boyfriend? It wouldn't surprise him if she had, because she was..hot?

Lando battled with his thoughts. He didn't know, Alice had always been Alice. Nothing more nothing less, feelings had never even been questioned, love as more than friends had never been brought up, not necesary because they were them, togehter. The only time something like it had been talked about was when their mothers joked about them getting married.

Well they had kissed... but still

Was this all as confusing for her as it was for him? Did she have multiple suitors chattting her up and asking her on dates? Lando had no idea. Of all the things they spoke about this was a topic they had never even touched, never felt the need to.

"Come on man, go to your girlfriend" George joked, shoving him towards Alice who stood with his family, an uncertain smile forming on his face.

2014 Costwolds

His eys watched her as she helped his mom set the table. She was wearing a white flowy summerdress, the fabric flowing in the wind. His mom had helped her fix her hair with a flower and she looked absolutely stunning, with that wide smile on her face.

He couldn't pin it down to when she went from his cute best friend to this, to Alice. A young, mature beutiful woman, someone he felt a lot for and not only platonic feelings. Of course this was strictly hidden. After their little kiss nothing else had surfaced, nothing even close to happening. They had brushed it away.

He couldn't help it tough, he was also getting older, close to sixteen now and feelings did surface, thoughts he wasn't proud of circled in his head and he wondered if she had the same thoughts or if it was just his mind that was sick.

"What are you doing?" Alice laughed softly at him as he stood like frozen on the grass. Blinking rapidly as he shrugged, playing it off like always "Nothing, I was just thinking you know?"

"Really, thinking? Seems like out of usual, no?"

He pulled a grimace at her joke, but it soon turned into a smile as her laughter filled his ears. What a sappy sap he was and he hated himself for it. If any of his friends would see him now they would laugh in his face.

"You wanna come with me to pick flowers for the table?"

"Sure" he nodded, following her out of the main door and out on the field behind Alice's house. Her parents had gotten divorced a year ago, her father moving abroad for work whilst her mother stayed with her.

They had newly been able to pull this house, a beutiful small cute little home more on the countryside with fields and forests close by. It was peaceful, comfortable and beutiful, Lando thought it fitted Alice perfectly.

"What is on your mind today? You seem so distant" she pondered softly, her hair falling in her face as she plucked a beutiful pink flower from the field. "I don't know" he shrugged.

"Then talk to me" she smiled gently as she popped the flower into her basket.

"Do you... do you ever feel..." he couldn't figure out the right words to finish his sentence, "Feel? Of course??" she deadpanned and Lando let out a soft chuckle "No, I mean have you ever felt... like... romantic feelings for anyone?"

Alice scrunched her face up as she looked at her friend. "Do you have a girl I don't know of?" she asked, offended. "But I guess?"

Lando's face heated up, hands pressing against his cheeks as he sat down in the grass. "No no I don-wait you have?"

Suddenly his stomach filled with dread, did she have someone he didn't know of?

"I think so but it's a bit weird"

Lando couldn't say anything more before she spoke again, cutting him off. "Please go on, who is this? What are you feeling, it's okay you know"

Lando removed his palms from his cheeks, taking a deep breath. He felt almost overwhelmed by her calm sweet voice, gently nudging him on.

"Well I don't know, I am so unsure on it because it's... it's someone I've known for so long and I am not sure how I got to feel more than friendship. I have no idea if she likes me back but it's just getting clearer and clearer that I can't supress that I feel more and more every day"

Alice only nodded along his fast words, trying to comprehend and figure out who this was. She felt the same, it was a bit complicated because being friends forever made it a bit tricky to point out what was what.

She tried to keep an even face, not to let him know too obviously that her heart slowly cracked at his words, he liked someone else?

His eyes met Alice's, taking another deep breath

"It's you"

2015 Hampshire

"I know" she repeated, it was all she said as she dragged Lando over the grass to the deck where she had been sitting all morning.

"What? You know what?" Lando asked confused, trying to make sense of her enthusiasm and rapid words.

She let go of his hand as they reached the small decktable, the oak scattered with papers, drawing, documents, all kinds of stuff and it didn't make Lando any wiser of what she wanted with all this.

"I know what I wanna do!" she exclaimed, excitment written all over her, from the way her eyes shone, the way her hand gestured over the papers and to how fast she talked and how she practially bounced up and down on the floor.

"Oh?" Lando asked, leaning forwards to see her papers. This had been a big deal for Alice, ever since he brought it up when they were ten she had been pondering over it. It was no stress and she knew that but for some reason, maybe because Lando knew his dream since the age of six, she felt the need to know.

"I want to be a diplomat!"

Lando fell quiet, too stunned to speak. A diplomat.

He was apparently not the only one having big dreams.

"What do you think?!" She asked, her voice so excited he had to be too. "I think it's fantastic!" Lando giggled, just as engrossed as she was as she pointed at the paper with the decsription of her future job, because Lando was sure she would make it.

"How do you become that?" "Well there are different aproaches to it depending on what you are most interested in to major but you need a bachelors degree but you can choose to major in example Law, international studies, political science or history but I think I want to go Law because then if I don't make it I can go into law for real so I'm gonna apply to Lawschool's here in England, Oxford and Cambridge. That's four years"

Lando's eyes followed her every movement as she spoke him through the different stages of how to become a diplomat. It seemed incredibly hard and long way there but she was so excited over this it made it's way over to Lando.

2016 Costwolds

He looked at her so softly she didn't know what to do of herself. His colourmixed eyes filled with so many different emotions, so many questions.

His hair was all wet from the rain that had poured down over England as usual and his lips held a soft smile whilst his hand tilted up her chin.

"You are so pretty" he mumbled softly, Alice feeling her face heating up at the comment. "You are too" she spoke, her voice like silk, so low it was hardly even hearable through their deep breaths.

She couldn't tell what had gotten them here, alone in her house, cuddled up in her bed watching a movie. Watching a movie had turned to a kiss, then a makeout and now here they were, asking eachother silent questions about how to move forward.

They had started to explore more and more ground with eachother after their feeling-revelations. Slowly but surely taking step by step.

"Are you sure?" Lando asked unsurely, his voice deep and ragged, feeling nervous as he looked at the young girl laying so beutifully on his bed. It felt like he was dreaming. Not only was there a beutiful girl half naked in his bed it was also Alice. His teenage hormones were too high to manage at this point.

"Have you... ever?" she asked, watching his head shake "No, I have no idea of how.. this is suposed to g-"

"We will figure it out" she smiled, asking both of his current questions and he smiled, face relaxing as his mouth dived to hers again.

It was slow, gentle and intimate. Both of them taking their sweet time, caring for eachother.

Their bodies moved together, figuring out what felt the best for both. Lando didn't know what to do, what to feel, it was all overwhelming to a point he became blank of thoughts. Hands gently helping her move with him, relishing in her heavy breaths and small sounds as they explored a new part of themself and eachother.

2016 Silverstone

His hand laced in hers as he gently pulled her along the streets in Silverstone. He had bought GP tickets for her birthday, revealing that his parents had helped him out a litttle after her worrying words for his money.

"Thank you" she said softly, smiling at Lando who looked back at her just as fondly. "Of course" was his reply, even though this didn't feel any type of of course

"Just want to make you happy" he murmured, making her heart soar

"I am happy just being with you, this-this is amazing and I am so happy and excited but you, you will always be enough"

Lando's smile got impossible big at that, swinging their hands inbetween their walking bodies. They were both fools, fools in love but they didn't care.

He talked her through the basics even though she already knew it all. But she loved to listen to it, listen to him talk about it with so much passion, blabber about the teams, the rules, the best. Everything he knew he loaded off to her, Alice more then content to walk around the paddock like this, hand in hand listening to his voice.

2017 Hampshire

She watched as Lando helped his mother to set the table in their old summer-house. The tradition continuing on. His hands balanced the plates as his mother directed him to what should go where.

She couldn't pin down the moment when Lando, her gullible dork of a friend became Lando. Lando who got all the girls falling at his feets with his riddicolously attractive smile and brown curls. Lando who got her to feel more than platonic feelings, Lando that got her all hot and bothered just being him, Lando.

But it was still the same Lando who had picked her flowers, held her when she was sad or confused, shared her highs and been there all the time. He was the same but with some additonal things, things she didn't exactly mind.

His eyes met hers over the table, his face of concentration turning into a teasing smirk as he winked at her.

Alice couldn't help but to giggle, moving off the grass and to the table where him and Cisca were talking about something. Lando had currently signed all season in formula 3 with Carlin. But he had been home for the weekend before going off again.

"Hello" Lando smiled like a dork as she reached the two, his smile going over to her, smiling just as widely as his arms reached her body to pull her close. "Are you coming to my next race?" He asked lowly, smile breaking out again as she nodded "Of course" Alice did in difference from Lando still go to school, her goal meant hard school studying for many years forward whilst Lando's goal meant no school studying but a lot of experience gathering. It was different but it didn't bother them. Alice studied, Lando helped her best he could, usually more distracting than helping but he was also useful to use as someone to juggle ideas with and have as a listener when she pracctised her speaches or read through her essays. In return Alice listened to him ramble about motorsports, went to every race she could and simply was there for him when he needed her to be.

Despite their young age they were mature in their relationship and more than anything, they were serious about eachother.

2018 Barcelona

She watched him from a distance, watching how he went around with his friends, joking laughing. It was formula two now, a new world from forumla 3 in some ways but the biggest difference were the publicity.

The fanbase that had before been small had explded as he startde to do well in formula 2 and especially since he started to appear on the internet via social media, interviews and youtube clips. It had exploded so fast neither of them had gathered what had happened.

What Alice had gathered by now though was that this new world of the sport he loved so dearly made him more and more distant. Suddenly he cared more about his appearance than her, cared more about his image than her. It showed in so many situations, him declining to hang out with her to hang out with some friends, telling her she didn't need to come because it was better for his image if they wasn't seen together all the time.

Alice didn't know if it was better for his image or better for keeping the girls that currenly circled aorund him.

He rarely spent any time with her anymore and it was fine Alice thought, but the feeling that he was embarrassed of her, that he didn't want people to know about her or their relationship was something she felt really hurtful.

The most confusing part of it all was how different it was. When it was only them he was the same, the small soft little boy who picked her flowers and helped braid her hair but when they were with others or in public he was someone completely different. One who pushed her away, ignored her and laughed at her.

It was all getting a bit too much. In the begining she could wave it off by him being new to the experience and fame, having to navigate his way around it but it had gone too far. And it felt too much in her heart.

2019 Monza

"I think... I think we should stop seeing eachother"

Lando's words caught something deep within her, felt like a shot right at her heart as she looked at the boy.

"What?" Her words came out weak, like a faint whisper. "I think we should break up, or whatever" he spoke, this time more direct, less feelings in them, more harshness.

Break up or whatever

They had never put a label on it, they were them, nothing more nothing less. But now he wanted to be nothing?

"Why?" she croaked out not getting where it was all coming from. "I want to see other people" he deadpanned, no emotion in his voice as he looked her straight in the eyes.

She felt defeated, nothing to fight with, nothing to fight for. Because he looked so sure, he looked so distant from the person she knew so she had no choice but to let him go, regardless of the feeling of her heart breaking into pieces in her chest.

But she got numb, feelings she could deal with later, she did not want to look weak when he looked like this, acted like this.

"Okay" was all she said, dropping the flower she held in her hand and turning on her heel.

2019 England, contract with Mclaren

"Congrats" she smiled carefully at the cheery boy. Things hadn't been good lately, stifff and tense but this was his long time goal, his dream and there was no way Alice wouldn't congratulate him on it.

Even if he broke her heart.

His eyes glistened as he pulled her into a warm hug, smiling into her hair. "Thank you, really"

Lando was happy, and Alice were happy that he was happy because it felt like it had always done. He spoke about his contract, about the races infront and she listened, just like she had always done. Taking it in and gently quzzing him further. She didn't want to push too hard.

His smile grew more and more as they talked, he even came so far as to ask how she was doing, he hadn't done that in a long time but just as before, in the end of their relationship things changed fast.

He hadn't told her he'd met anyone new, although they had barely spoken at all lately, only the odd hello on their family dinners. Alice felt it was too early for that but she could see it from miles away.

His eyes flickered around as the tall girl moved towards them and she knew it before she was even there. The lump in her stomach exploding into a sick feeling.

Lando fumbled nervously as he introuduced the two, Alice's eyes stuck on her beutiful face and incredible body. She was everything in one package, one stunning package.

"When did you meet?" Alice asked, voice sweetly soft, trying to disguse any hiddden intention but by the way Lando couldn't meet her eyes she already knew it was before they had ended.

"Oh, I don't know, I think it was last year yeah?"

Last year

Lando didn't answer, didn't look at Alice, he couldn't.

"Oh wow that't nice, and it was really nice to meet you but I have to go"

"Okay, nice to meet you too!" she smiled cheerily.

Lando catched up to her before she could leave the grounds completely, grabbing her arm to stop her.

"Alice" "Don't tocuh me" she snapped, feeling too many emotions at once to control it. "I'm sorry" he tried but she just waved him off

"Save it" she bit

"Don't be like this Alice, come on" "What? You met her a year ago? When we were still together?" "I did nothing with her until we broke up!" "NO but you LIKED HER?!"

Lando looked down "I don't know"

"Fuck off!

"Stop it, youre making a big deal out of this when it dosen't have to be, we broke up I found someone new" "I-I I don't even know what to say" she spoke, shaking her head at the boy she thought she knew but so clearly didn't

"What did you think Alice? That we would stay in love our whole life and get married with many kids?" "I-I don't know" she whispered because maybe that had been what she thought, or at leat hoped. More importantly she thought they were real, and that they had real feelings. But maybe it was just her.

2019 Bahrain

Alice didn't cheer nor did she congratulate. She stood next to Cisca in the Mclaren garage watching the race. She was there for Cisca and only Cisca. She suposed she had forced Lando to give her a pass as he probably much rather would have wanted to give one to his new girlfriend than Alice. But his mother was good at talking and she guessed she had skills with her son as well. Having dangled the pass in her face as Lando had agreed to give her one.

Lando glanced over at her and gave her a faint smile but he got nothing in return, just a stone face that made him advert his gaze again.

He knew why though, the very reason swinging with her long hair before stepping forward to kiss him, right in front of her. It shouldn't but it made his heart ache, he didn't know if it was because it was Alice or if it was because he was a decent human being, he doubted that though.

"Wow babe! Your first points amazing!" She grinned at him. He forced himself to tip his lips into a forced smile "Thank you babe"

He could se in his imagination how Alice would scrunch her face up in disgust. She always hated those nicknames.

"How should we celebrate?" she asked, a hopeful look on her face. She wanted to go out. Lando wanted to go home, eat dinner with his family and Alice, sit down the water with Alice and talk about everything and anything. But those days were gone and now he had a new life.

"Clubbing?" he suggested, smiling as her face lit up.

"Perfect!" she smiled, turning away from him and to Alice and his mother who stood chatting, not paying any attention at all to him or at least not by the looks of it.

"Lando, we are going home. Are you coming with us for our regular big celebration?" His mother asked and he dreaded having to answer

"No, sorry. We are going out" he voiced softly, watching his mother's smile falter as a disapointed scowl took over her face "Out?"

He didn't even dare to look at Alice, knowing she would look at him with murder in her eyes, not liking his answer.

"Okay, well it was so good seeing you" his mother smiled, hugging him close before giving him one more loook and walking out the garages. He had excpected Alice to follow his mother out but she stayed put, making him feel a bit uneasy.

Alice smiled at her as she gave her a soft wave, telling Lando to catch up with her. Alice's smile fell the second her eyes landed on Lando.

He was thinking about aproaching but decided against it, should he go? As his mind was reeling with options and things he could say Alice was standing in front of him with an uncharacteristic frown on her face.

"You are really choosing clubbing before your family?" she spoke, her words harsh but it was nothing compared to her tone, filled with venom and hard as ice.

Lando tasted different aproaches on his tongue before, of course choosing the worst one. Anger.

"You're just angry I choose her before you"

The words struck, he could see that and in a twisted way it settled something inside him. "This has nothing to do with me" she spoke back, her voice even colder than before.

"I already said I was not gonna come to any celebrations, seriously Lando, who do you think you are?" He swallowed, didn't know what to say next but she beat him to it "And since when do you even go clubbing?" her face twisted with distaste. She had never liked clubbing a lot, only rarely could she enjoy it briefly but Lando had had no problem with that. Not a fan of the crowded rooms either but now, now he wanted to make his words hurt as much as hers did.

"Well maybe that's something I can now feel free to do" he spoke harshly, watching the wave of emotion on her face as she shook her head.

"I never, ever stopped you from it"

Lando shrugged "Didn't matter"

Alice shook her head, baffled. Where had Lando gone? Because this wasn't him.

"I was just going here to ask what the fuck is wrong with you. Your mother traveled here to watch you, to support you but you can't even take the time to celebrate with them over dinner? Go to the fucking club after dinner what do I care! But you don't treat family like that''

"What do you know about family?" The words left a bitter taste in his mouth but they had already tumbled out

"Apparently more than you" she bit and maybe she was right but it didn't stop his words from tumbling out.

"Just stop it Alice, you can't control me like before, let me be"

Alice swallowed, he could practically see the emotions swimming in her eyes but it was his doing. No matter how long it had gone he still hated to be the one that made her look like that, so fragile and so hurt.

"I'm sorry if that's how you felt" she whispered before leaving him feeling like the jerk he was.

2020 Cotswold

Her fingers scrolled through the profile, clicking in to one then the other. Scrolling through comments and reactions.

It was like an addiction, once she'd started she couldn't stop.

She was clicking into his pictures, trying to make out the people he was with like she had any reason to do so.

Her eyes fleeted over it all, drinking it in as this was all she could have. Sulking over her ex 'whatever' and the life he was now living.

Her eyes locked on a particular photo, he was on the podium, the widest of smiles on his face and a cup in his hands.

She would have called herself pathetic for sitting here dreaming of the guy who broke her heart but she couldn't help but to look at the photos and dream of what once used to be.

2021 Cotswold

Stiff was a light word to put it. Everyone felt awkvard as the two 22-year old's adjusted their gaze's over the room. Who's idea it had been to put on a family reunion dinner Alice didn't know but whoever it was had started an bad idea.

She hadn't seen Lando face to face in what felt like forever and it was just as unplesant as she would have thought it would be. Horrible.

"So Alice, how is studying going?" Cisca asked sweetly

"Well it's going great, we haven't completed any major essays or studies yet but it's really interesting so I'm happy" Alice spoke, looking at Cisca who held the most comforting smile ever.

"That's fantastic honey, I always knew you would make out what you wanted, you beutiful soul!" she all but squeked making the young girl feel warm inside out "Thank you"

"So Lando, what about you?" Alice's mom asked, just as politely. Alice busied herself grabbing some more potatoes in the slowest movements she could muster as Lando spoke them very detailed through the season so far. He told them all about the car, how it felt, his teammate, his team, the last race, others on the grid, all of it.

It was a bit weird how something she used to find so intruiging, now made her feel numb. Like a big lump balling up in her stomach. "And how is your girlfriend?" She continued, everyone holding their breath

Lando looked uncomfortable as his eyes fleeted around the table not staying to long anywhere. "Well, eh. We broke up" he revealed, making Alice look at him for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Oh I'm so sorry honey" Alice's mother spoke again but he just waved it off, giving her a reassuring smile "No it's fine. I guess we realized how different we were and how different the things we want are. It was no biggie, mutual decision" he shrugged, not seeeming to care to much about it and something about that made it twist in Alice's stomach.

"And how about you Alice? Your mother told me you were seeing someone?"

Alice and Lando both looked like they were gonna faint with shock. Alice coughing on her potatoes, waving her hand as she took a sip from her glass.

"Noo" she chuckled once she recovered. "It was nothing serious at all, just a bit of...fun" she spoke awkvardly, something about that sentence making Lando's stomach twist unpleasantly.

"Aha" Cisca smiled, her lips twitching as she tried to not chuckle at both the youngsters uncomfortableness.

"I hope you mean fun like jumping into the sea and giggling in the grass" Alice's mother mused, looking at her with amusedly narrowed eyes.

"Of course, that's what I mean..." Alice giggled, hiding behind her tall glass. "Because I have never heard you even say you lost your virginity"

Alice choked at that, spluttering her drink over herself and the table as the others laughed at her.

"Well" she breathed

"Alice! You have but you have not told me?!" Her mother said sarcastically. She had figured she had, they had talked about it vaguely since she had wanted to know it was okay and all and she had also not so sneakily gotten a condom or two plus she had asked for her mother to hellp her with the pills.

"Maybe?" "There is no hard feeling honey" She started, tone warm "And Cisca has told me all about it"

This time it was Lando who choked on his drink, coughing desperately until his airways were free again. He had not been as secretive as Alice apparently had been. He had told his mother the next day about it. Not in detail of course but still.

"Oh really? What did he say?" Alice snickered, throwing a look on Lando who's face had creeped up with colour. "Oh not too much, just that you had had sex and it had been ok"

"OK?!" Alice gasped at Lando who giggled in his hands, face red as he giggled at the awkvardness of it alll

Alice couldn't help but to laugh at his face but stopped abruptly when she realized what she was doing, laughing with him?

No

"No I'm joking it was hideous" she deadpanned, their mothers snickered but Lando looked at her with a glare.

She cracked a sarcastic smile and engrossed herself in the next conversation floating, ignoring his gaze for the rest of the evening.

2022 Monaco

His fingers scrolled through the profile, clicking in to one then the other. Scrolling through comments and reactions.

It was like an addiction, once he'd started he couldn't stop. Obsessing over her life even though he wasn't in it anymore.

Eyes locked on the different pictures he couldn't help but think she was the most stunning person he had ever met.

He also could not stop himself from feeling his heart swell and break at the thought.

2023 Silverstone GP

Alice's hair moved in the windy air of Silverstone. His eyes wandered over her, drinking her in.

He had missed her, really missed her.

Being without her was a test on it's own, one he thoughts was nesecary to live how he wanted, but now he realized he wouldn't ever want to live without her.

It was too late, of course. He knew that, everybody knew that. He had completely wrecked everything they had and shared because of a few years trying to be someone else.

He had been fine though, moved on because he knew that's what she had done, but his heart struggled all the same everytime he saw her or even thought about her.

His mom had tried to push him towards her, saying that he needed to apologize. Lando had never understood why. A simple sorry wouldn't change a thing of what he had done, it was not gonna make anything better.

A sorry was simply not enough.

Despite that he itched to say it, beacuse he was sorry, even if that changed nothing.

-

A GP sunday and Alice hadn't had it in her heart to refuse Cisca's pleas for her to come with her and watch. She had been there more times since they broken up 'or whatever' and it had been fine.

But this time it felt different. From the moment she stepped into the paddock Lando's eyes were on her. Nothing unusual but his eyes were something else, held something else deep within them.

It hadn't even been half an hour after the race when he aproached her carefully. His eyes fleeting around as he stopped in front of her, hand combing through his wet curls.

"Hi" he breathed, meeting her eyes a short second.

"Hi" she answered, her heart picking up in her chest for no reason at all.

Why did it still do that?

"Good race today, congratulations" she smiled weakly making his heart grow wings. "Thank you". He was on the podium, second place, a good weekened for Mclaren, for sure.

"How you been?" he stuttered out, trying to be as normal as possible as she looked at him. "Good, you?" she replied shortly, his breath catching in his throat "Fine" he got out, his words stuck in his throat, sounding like he had just coughed them up. "I- I know this is not gonna change anything and I know I've been a proper dick but I still wanted to.." he murmured, his hand reaching into his suit pocket and bringing out a small blue little flower. Blue ones where her favoruite, it had always been.

"A flower?"

His eyes burned with sadness and regret

"I really am sorry"

Alice's eyes flickered from the sad looking guy and his handpicked beutiful flower, wishing it was enough, wishing it was as easy to forgive him now as it had been when they were small and Lando had teased her or made her cry. But it wasn't and Lando knew that too.

No amount of flowers could possibly make up for this and it absolutely shattered him.

[ford-pines-lover]

Delicate

Isn't it... Delicate?

Wild that we completed at the same time! Here's Delicate @chillinglyadventurous! This one is so fun :)

Tags: SFW, drinking

Stanford Pines x Reader

This ain't for the best; my reputation’s never been worse so…

“Come on, Poindexter! This is your chance to meet the ladies!”

“Stanley, no, there’s no need for me to go find a ‘lady’ when I have everything I need right here.” Which wasn’t particularly true. Ford would have rather to have someone to share moments with. Either of the platonic or intimate kind. He had always had a sense of loneliness that had set in after coming back from the portal. Ford felt like he wasn’t needed for some big expedition anymore, so what was left? There was no ‘finding the secrets of Gravity Falls;’ there was no ‘end of the world’ anymore that needed saving. Was it time to slow down? No, of course not. He still reveled in his work, his research. But sharing it with someone could be something worthwhile. 

“I know you won’t go out by yourself, and locking yourself in the basement is sad. You don’t even have to meet a lady; you could just sit with me and drink.” Stan gives Ford a defeated look. He hadn’t had his brother in upwards of 40 years (if we don't really count the 30 minutes before the portal incident), and finally he has his chance of being Ford’s wingman. Stan leans against the doorway to Ford’s lab, where there are papers scattered about. 

Ford sighs and gets up from his desk. He doesn’t make any effort to clean up his space. Probably betting on the fact that he will be back sooner rather than later. “Fine, I’ll go with you. No promises though." Secretly, he was hoping to find someone to talk to. Hoping is the key word. 

Stan smiles and walks back up the stairs, getting ready to go out. He was planning to go to a bar, or if they were feeling ballsy, maybe a club? Doubt Ford would be up to that, though. A club is full of lights, people, and loud music. The opposite of the brother he had very narrowly convinced to come with him on this adventure. Although surprising, Stan was optimistic that Ford had agreed. 

A few minutes later, Ford emerges from the basement wearing an outfit similar to what he used to wear in college. Now, since he is 40 years older than college age, he was filling out the clothes quite nicely. It was a pair of khakis, a grey button-up, and a nice sweater vest. It made him look dapper. There was a certain confident glow to the man that is rarely ever seen. 

“Heh, you really clean up nice, don’t ya, Sixer? Tryna impress some ladies?”

“Stop it, Stanley, before I take back my agreeance.” 

Moments later, Stan drives them to the nearest bar. Nothing fancy, but it was a Friday night. There was bound to be many people there. Hopefully someone for Ford to talk to. Ramble about his life that he had lost, or perhaps learn what this new person was like. The idea of human interaction was daunting but exciting. 

They both sat down at the bar, and Stan ordered them both a rum and coke. Just something to start off the evening. It was bustling with people like Ford had imagined. There were groups of people sitting and talking, and there were people that were relatively alone as well. Stan was scanning the room for people to push Ford into talking to. 

“There!” Stan pointed at a lady that had some sort of what seemed to be a fruity drink in her hand. She looked bored, sitting on her phone. 

“Stanley, I can’t just go talk to her,” Ford side-eyed Stan with a hint of embarrassment. 

"Sure, ya can! Just a few more drinks and you’re all set!”

“I—no, I don’t need any more alcohol in my system.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Ford sighed and looked over. “I guess nothing." He got up and walked in your general direction.

“Don’t forget your wallet, Poindexter!” Stan shouted over the music and the chatter of the bar. 

You must like me for me.

Ford sits down across from you. He nervously smiles. “Hi, um, can I sit here with you?”

You give him a confused look, not sure what this older man, silver fox for the matter, would want sitting next to you. He seemed visibly nervous, too.“Um, yeah, sure! Of course!” You fidget with the straw of your drink as he sits down. You were curious about the man sitting by you. This was odd; not usually people decide to talk to you, let alone sit by you, especially at a bar. “I am Y/N” You reach out to shake his hand. He hesitantly took it. You noticed something odd about his hand. You decide not to say anything.

“I am Stanford Pines, but please call me Ford.” He smiles sheepishly. There was something enticing about the man in front of you. It almost seemed like he was full of stories, full of a lifetime, yet he also looked like a brand new man.

“So,” you gave him a curious look, “what’s your deal?” You knew there was something that he was hiding. Men never just come up and talk to you. Unless they want something from you.

Ford looked taken aback by the question. He was for sure not expecting that question. “Excuse me?” 

“Well, I go to this bar often, and no one ever sits by me.” You giggle. “I’ve never seen you here before, so again, what's your deal?” You lean over the table, hands clasped together, under your chin. You smirk at him. Okay, so he doesn’t seem like a creep. Probably isn’t, but you can’t be too careful.

“Well, I am just looking for…” He pauses and thinks about the answer. “Someone to talk to? Human connection perhaps?” 

You give an amused huff at his answer. “Well, I think, Mr. Stanford Pines, that I can give that to you.”

We can’t make any promises; now can we, babe? 

“Actually, it’s Doctor Stanford Pines.” He smiles proudly. There was something in his smile that was faltering, though. His confidence wasn’t sharp.

“Oh ho ho! Mr. Dr. Stanford Pines, eh? Well, for your knowledge, I am also a doctor.” You smirk at him and raise your eyebrow. He laughs and smiles.

“Yes!” He sips his drink, realizing it’s running low. “What kind of doctor are you?”

“The medical kind”

“Yeah? What field exactly?” He studies you as you look off to the side.

“I study gynecology and obstetrics.”

“That’s awesome! I personally study the anomalous beings here in Gravity Falls." He wiggles his fingers to have a “spooky” effect.

“That’s pretty cool, Mr. Dr. Stanford Pines." You give him an honest smile as you notice his now empty drink. 

But you can make me a drink.

You grab his glass and go up to the bar, asking for another drink. You assume he would want a whisky old-fashioned, so you buy him that. You buy yourself another dirty shirley. You return back to the table and hand him his drink.

“Here, I realized your drink was running low, so I bought you a new one.” 

“I—no, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, of course I didn't have to. I wanted to. Big difference, smart guy.”

He laughed and sipped on his new drink. “What is this?”

“A whisky old-fashioned.” 

“It’s pretty good.”

“So, what kind of anomalous things are here in this small town?” You asked sincerely. You had lived there for 6 months and hadn’t noticed any “anamolous” beings in this town. You honestly just lived here for the work. Gravity Falls hospital was hiring; it was a small town, and it was in a state with no sales tax. So hell yeah. 

His face lights up when you ask this question. He pulls out a maroon notebook (journal?) that has gold embossed into it. It looked pretty professional, yet also worn out. “You’re lucky I brought one of my old journals.” He looked to the side, almost embarrassed. “I was really hoping someone would ask about my studies.”

“Well, that’s great!” You prop your elbows back on the table to lean over to him. “I would be more than happy to listen to your tales and adventures.”

Another half an hour goes by with you two chattering away. Ford was explaining how there are things that live deep in the woods that are extraordinary, while some things can be seen while taking a walk around town. You honestly had a new curiosity for this town. This town may have been a place of convenience for a job, but now you have made a new friend. 

“Would you ever like to come mystery hunting with me sometime?” Ford asked.

“I would love to!” You beamed, excited that this guy you had just met an hour ago was already wanting to see you again. 

“Hey, Sixer, it seems you’ve hit it off with a lady." Another older man was standing at the edge of the table, giving you a smirk. “Well, it’s time to go; it’s my bedtime.”

Ford looks over to you and sighs. He scribbles on a piece of his journal, rips it out, and hands it to you. “Here’s my number in case you ever do want to come with me on an adventure.” He winks at you and leaves.

Well. You’re never going to forget about him.

[chanranghaeys]

🍊 "no promises."

pairing: idol!seungkwan x afab!reader word count: 1.2k+ tags: fluff, angst (ish) ending, comfort (ish i tried), another slice of life kinda like eavesdropping where you really shouldn’t haha warnings: it's not explicit, but i wrote this with the idea of seungkwan going home to jeju after moonbin’s passing so if that’s smthn triggering here’s a heads up

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“do you really have to go?”

“what kind of question is that? of course i have to go.”

she sighs. “i know. i just wanted to ask something cliche.”

she looks at him and sees all the little mannerisms he does cross the expressions on his face. he pursed his lips in a pout, tucked his tongue in his cheek, bit his lower lip, and looked anywhere except at her.

“whoever you are and whatever you choose to be, i know there’s a reason why fate brought us to meet. never forget that,” he states as his hand intertwines with hers.

“even if we choose to stay in different places?” she asks as she lays her head on his shoulder. she only does this because she can’t bear to look at him.

“especially so. call me a romantic. besides, at least we’re in the same country.”

“but jeju is still jeju. seoul is still seoul.”

“and you’re you. and i’m me.”

“yes. you are you. how can i ever forget that?”

he laughs. “no, no! i mean you’re you, that headstrong and determined person i have the pleasure to be with right now. i’m just someone who happens to be an idol but really…i’m just a normal human being.”

“so am i.”

“but you’re a person who is blessed to never have a million cameras flashing and blinking in your eyes. they hurt, you know.”

“remember, you chose this life.”

he sighs. “yeah, i know.”

she stays there beside him in silence.

“on the bright side, you’ll always get to see me. just get on youtube or turn on the television.”

“it won’t compare to this.” she brings his hand closer to her lips, kissing the back of it and lingering there.

he finally brings himself to look at her. she had the back of his hand resting on her cheek this time, staring out to the distance toward the sunset.

“i’m sorry about binnie. i truly am. i never knew him but just by your stories, it felt as if he was still right here with us. just over there, in the next neighborhood, waiting for your call and we could go eat ramyeon by the beach later. i hope you returning home brought you comfort.”

“it did. it did. it made me so happy, despite the sadness. i’m reminded that everything was too fast-paced for so long—too fast that i didn’t even bother to slow down and see things for what they were. okay, i get why you decided to move here to jeju.”

“i wouldn’t have realized how fast life was going either if it weren’t for that incident. i wish it happened sooner than later, honestly. staying in seoul ain’t worth it for me.”

“that incident. yep. who would’ve thought i’d see you again after that? least especially here of all places.”

“who would’ve thought.” she finally looked up at him, finding that he had his eyes on her all along. his hood was up, the chill of the coming night blowing through their multiple layers of clothing. his round eyes were kind, his lips were turned up in a small smile. they used the cold as an excuse to get closer, wishing they would never need to come apart.

who would’ve thought that this much would happen in the span of a few weeks?

he brought his head closer to hers, partly as an attempt to keep her warm when he saw her nose and cheeks pink with the cold, and partly as a way to use his lips to kiss the chill away. he knew the warmth that spread from both your hearts when he did so would be enough to keep this cold away.

he rested his forehead on hers, taking in as much of her as he could, as long as he still could. “you know i can’t promise you anything.”

“i know. i can’t promise you anything, either.”

“is it too self-destructive of us to keep thinking this way? shouldn’t i be the happy one?”

“no, i think you’ve always been more realistic than the others. you’re just being that right now.”

“you know, i already saw my upcoming schedules for when i return. it’s almost as if i want to just hide away in my room here at home again.”

“i can’t even begin to imagine what it would look like.” she chuckles.

“you know on the calendar app how it’s supposed to be neat blocks? for some reason, they all overlap. but they work? i don’t understand it either? this is why i leave all that to the manager hyungs. practice and performing and variety take up too much of my head as is.”

“ya,” she says, using her finger to guide his chin and forcing his gaze back to hers. she starts tracing lazy circles on the apple of his cheek before he catches her hand and kisses her palm, peppering kisses down to her wrist. he couldn’t get enough of her—as he should. he couldn’t believe he was leaving her behind.

“yaaaaaa! seungkwan-ah!” she laughs in protest as he almost tackles her with kisses to her cheeks, her chin, her nose. quick pecks to her lips prevent her from saying more in between her giggles. night was falling, the street lamps started glowing. his hood was still up. and he didn’t care who he was at that moment. he was just a young man in love with a woman he saw the beauty of hope in.

when he finally stops his surprise attack, he has her in his arms and resting against his chest. “i never pegged you to be a guy all about pda, seungkwannie.”

“i’m not. it’s just…you.” his arms instinctively wrap tighter around her. she hopes he never has to let go.

“don’t forget to rest, okay?” she looks back at him to prove her point was serious. “really. do not forget to rest.”

“alright~”

“don’t do your aegyo on me! i’m serious. please. i don’t want to see you again so sad.”

“you won’t. i promise. i will rest. i will be better. for carats, for my members, for my family and friends, for binnie. for you. for myself.”

she nods in approval. “alright~”

“if you keep up with that aegyo, i will eat you alive right here.”

“oh, seungkwan, you wouldn’t. not here. not in public.”

he raises his eyebrow. “wanna bet?”

she blushes more than what the cold could do. “stop it!”

he laughs and settles in a comfortable silence having her in his arms, just like they’ve done on countless other days in the calm of jeju—the calm of the island they called home.

“i couldn’t have done it without you, you know.”

she hums in response, a small nod accompanying it.

“thank you.”

she held onto his hand tight. “don’t forget me.” tears threatened to fall.

“i could never.” more tears threatened to fall.

“we’re still in the same country.”

“exactly.”

“i’ll go to you.”

“i’d rather go to you. i get to go to jeju too.”

“you know that’s not realistic.”

“i know. i don’t care.”

“i care. i will go to you.”

“promise?”

she stays silent.

“no promises. right.” he sighs.

“i can’t promise. but i will go to you.”

“i will wait. but…no promises.”

night has fallen. the street lamps are glowing. their hoods are up. and they’re just two people in love, with no promises to keep.

[pinkdaiisies]

Dale Cooper x reader

Summary: A certain fbi agent knows just how to break you out of your shell... for some odd un-explainable reason.

Based off of this request

Notes: sorrrrryyyyy for the wait!!

Word Count: 1.5k

Lucy was currently thoroughly explaining to Sheriff Truman which line to pick up through the phone. Her desk faced the guest window, while yours faced the opposite wall behind her. You didn't mind not having to greet whoever walked in. It's the main reason why you loved your job. Being able to complete paperwork in solitude, while having the occasional gossip session with Lucy was the dream. Everyone who worked at the station knew you weren't the talkative type, hell, everyone in Twin Peaks knew that.

After Lucy hung up the phone, she swiveled her chair towards you. Every deputy awaited the arrival of some FBI agent that was due to show up any hour. The past day and a half, Twin Peaks had an eerie feel to it. The loss of Laura Palmer shaking everyone up, including you.

"Gee I wonder when the FBI agent is showing up!" Lucy said. "I've gotten five calls the last 2 hours asking for updates on the case." Lucy said while spinning in her chair. "Hows your paperwork going?"

"It's going." You said. A drunken man had hit a deer on one of the highways and he claimed that it was the station's fault for not having deer crossing signs. You were finishing up some of his court statement logs. "You'd think a man living in Twin Peaks his whole life would know that deer live in the woods." Lucy giggled at your words before getting distracted by Deputy Brennan at the coffee machine. She stood up from her seat and joined him, making you the only one behind the desk.

You were still turned away from the window when you heard the lobby door open. You prayed it was just another deputy coming back from being on duty. Unfortunately you heard someone trying to get your attention.

"Excuse me, miss?" You had no choice but to spin your chair around to the mystery person.

You could tell right away from the look of the man that this was the FBI agent. The fancy suit and the FBI pin near his collar gave it away. Another thing you took notice of right away was the man's sheer beauty. You weren't the type to make your feelings of attraction a topic of discussion, but you would definitely have to gossip with Lucy about this later.

"Hi sorry." You spoke back quietly.

"Lucy is it?" The man questioned while looking at Lucy's name placard on the desk.

"No, Lucy stepped out for a moment. I'm y/n l/n." You said while pointing to your name tag back on your own desk, which was barley visible due to the overflow of paper work.

"It's lovely to meet you y/n." Dale said with a smirk on his face. "Its sad we have to meet under these unfortunate circumstance. I'm Special Agent Dale Cooper." The smirk on his face nearly made you forget the case at hand. His flirtatious smile yet professional demeanor wasn't something you were used to, having lived in Twin Peaks your whole life. Although you've only known him for literal seconds, you were sure he was different from anyone you've ever met.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you too Agent Cooper." You said with a smile that was probably a little too big for the moment. "Our Sheriff is down the hall in the door on your right. We also have donuts and coffee in the break room so feel free to grab as much as you'd like! If we run out just call me and I can probably go out to the Double R diner to grab some more, it's really no problem. Twin Peaks is really happy to have you-"

"Y/n! Mr. FBI agent probably has to go, you don't want to hold him for too long." Lucy saved you from your rambling. You've never once rambled before in your life. You probably spoke more in those few sentences then you have all week!

"It's really no problem. Thank you y/n." Then Dale left your vision as he turned the corner to make his way to the Sheriff.

"I love you y/n but I don't think I've ever heard you speak so much at once!" Lucy exclaimed. It was true, you didn't know what had gotten into you. Sure, Dale Cooper was a good looking man, but you have never once let a man change your very own speaking tendencies!

"Ugh!" You groaned in response, knowing you had just embarrassed yourself. You swiveled your chair back to your desk and buried your face into your hands.

-

Dale Cooper had been in Twin Peaks for four days now. The only updates you got on the Laura Palmer case were the details that Deputy Brennan accidentally let slip to Lucy, and it didn't seem like they were getting far.

You were able to keep your blabbering to a minimum around Dale Copper for the most part. Although when Dale walked in every morning he would make a point to catch your attention to tell you good morning. So obviously you had no choice but to awkwardly spin your chair around as fast as lighting, occasionally knocking down some papers in the process, and say good morning along with some meaningless comment about the weather or the status of the coffee in the break room.

Despite your awkwardness, Dale Cooper always agreed with you, or thanked you, and walked to the Sheriff's room with a smile on his face. Always leaving Lucy giggling to herself. You spilled to her that you thought the agent was handsome on the second day of his arrival. Sometimes she would call him over to the reception desk just to ask him some meaningless question that involved you somehow. You were left speechless every time, but Dale always answered back in a serious and thoughtful way.

Starting the paper work for poor Laura's case was the most difficult paperwork you've ever filled out. Her murder hit a lot harder than all of the other cases that were brought to your desk. Which is why you needed to get your second cup of coffee of the day. You made your way to the break room and poured yourself a cup, while looking at the donut options.

Footsteps approached as you stirred your coffee and you soon realized that agent Cooper was walking towards you. Your heartbeat sped up tremendously.

"Hello y/n!" Dale said.

"Hi Agent Cooper! How are you?" Although you started speaking before he could answer, "I expect not too well because I heard you and the deputies stayed out late last night looking for evidence. I can only imagine how stressful that may be." You silently cursed yourself for rambling on once again, but Dale didn't seem to mind.

"I'm doing as well as I can. Although a cup of coffee will definitely make my day better!" Dale answered back. To help the agent, you reached for a cup but failed to realize Cooper was reaching at the same time. Both of your guys hands brushed and you pulled away anxiously, a blush staining your cheeks. You muttered a sorry, and Dale said that it was no problem.

"Well, how are you doing?" Dale asked back while beginning to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Oh me? I'm doing okay I guess, can't really complain, I'm not the one trying to solve a murder right now." You giggled awkwardly. Now is definitely not the time to be laughing?! You thought to yourself. "I'm sorry that was dumb. I totally respect your line of work, I'm just not used to talking to a lot of new people..." Your sentence got quieter as you spoke. "I've lived here my whole life so everyone knows everyone."

"Don't apologize," Dale started. "So I'm assuming you've eaten at the Double R Diner before then?" Dale asked before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Of course I have! Their food is really good and the owner is just the sweetest person you'll ever meet!" You said, finally a normal sentence coming out of you.

"Well maybe you'd like to accompany me to get coffee over there tomorrow around this time?" Out of all of the things you expected Agent Cooper to say, him asking you on a date was very low on the list.

"Yes- I mean, I'd love to! I didn't think that you would- well, I never expected you to..." You cut yourself short, realizing another century long ramble was near. "Yes Agent Cooper." You finished with a huge smile on your face.

"Great! I should probably get going, Harry was expecting me in his office." He smiled and left you standing there with excitement.

Dale walked into the room that the Sheriff was in.

"Your receptionist sure is quite talkative Harry." Dale said.

"Yes, Lucy does tend to be that way." Sheriff Truman said while organizing some evidence on the table.

"No, I meant y/n." Dale said with a skeptical look on his face.

"Are you sure you don't have them mixed up?" Harry questioned.

"Well I just asked y/n on a date tomorrow so I sure hope I don't!"

[nocasdatsgay]

Baby of Mine A Spring Time Affairs Fic

Day 7 of @polyacotarweek Free Day

Pairing: Tamlin/OC/Elain/Lucien | Rating: T| Word count: 3778

Master List | Poly Week Masterpost | Read on AO3

Summary: After Calanmai and forgetting to take the tea, Flora is pregnant. The problem is, she doesn’t know if Tamlin or Lucien is the father.

Warnings: Pregnancy, Anxiety, base level childbirth mentions, a baby

AN: WE DID IT FOLKS! Last day of the week. I can’t want to go through the Masterlist and read what I have missed while writing. Thank you for all the likes and comments. PS: Can you catch the Beast of the Briars call out?

Tagging: @saltedcoffeescotch @ysmtttty

Tamlin said he did not care. 

Lucien and Elain both said they didn’t care. 

But Flora did. 

The stress was evident on her face as she turned in front of the mirror, gaze dropping down to her bare stomach. She was starting to show. New clothes would be in soon, her old ones already feeling snug. She didn’t want to despise the babe in her belly but gods it was hard to not let her worries get to her. 

She was Tamlin’s wife. She had a duty to him to have his heir. What would the court do if her babe came out with red hair or russet eyes? Their relationship wasn’t a secret. Everyone knew. But they’d been so careful and then Calanmai came and the one time she forgot to put contraceptives in her system, she ended up pregnant. 

She hoped it was the first undiluted magic that conceived this child. Tamlin took her into the cave. They made love on that stone and released all that magic back into the world. What happened with Lucien and Elain after wasn’t under the same pull of ancient magic. But doubt plagued her. Her plants showed her there was no difference between the first wave of magic and after. It could easily be the same with her. 

“Flora?” Tamlin’s voice dragged her out of her thoughts. Her gaze met his through the mirror. “Is everything alright?” 

Tamlin stayed nervous about her condition. She knew why. He was worried she would fall into a depression or worse. He was constantly encouraging her to engage with the court, to go outside with Elain. It warred with his want to keep her inside and safe. His mistakes in the past haunted him. Even after all the time that passed. 

“I just-“ she looked back at where her hand rested on her stomach. “You know I worry.” 

“I don’t care what others may think. You know this.” 

“They’ll talk, Tamlin,” tears built in her eyes. Her worries she had been holding in came tumbling out. “What good am I? If my first born is not your heir? This is a child, Tamlin. What if it is Lucien’s? What if it triggers something in Elain? They’re mates.”

“Flora.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked and tears spilt. “It’s awful to think these things, I know. I'm horrible.”

“You’re not horrible, my wildflower.” Tamlin came up to her, wrapping his arms around her. One hand splayed over her stomach. “How long have you felt like this?” 

“Since I found out.” 

She grabbed one of his arms with her hand to mentally steady herself. She hadn’t spoken out loud how she felt. She feigned excitement; they were so happy when her scent changed. She didn’t want to take that away from them just because she worried. 

“Honey.” She winced at the sadness in his tone. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

“I didn’t want to upset you.”

“You’ll never upset me.” She felt him kiss the back of her head. “I know you worry but our babe is so loved already and that’s all that matters.” 

She nodded and leaned back into the embrace of her husband. Tamlin was the most excited out of all of them. She just hoped she could match his enthusiasm sooner rather than later. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She officially was showing and barely made it out alive from the Court announcement party. So many congratulations, each one meant well but still grated her. She was a perfect Lady of Spring, faking her smile and when someone did notice, it was explained off as hormones. Tam watched her the whole time, ready to scoop her up and out of the room if needed. She finally feigned tiredness and excused herself. 

It was a relief to enter the empty hall. Though she was not alone for long. She made it up the stairs before running into one of the two people who put her in this predicament. Lucien’s gold eye clicked rapidly as he came up to her, studying her face. She had not seen him since his return this morning from visiting Day Court. 

“How did it go?”

Flora rolled her eyes. “I swear if I hear one more congratulations I am going to vomit.”

”So it went well. Good.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “And how are you? How’s my little one?”

”I am tired and annoyed. And you don’t know for certain, if this babe is yours,” she snapped. She regretted it the second the words left her mouth. “The baby is fine, Lucien. I didn’t mean- I’m sorry. That was unkind of me.”

“It was.” He didn’t hide the hurt on his face. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t mean that. I’m sorry.”  She looked down in shame. She’d never spoken to Lucien like that before. She was horrid. 

“Flora, look at me, I do forgive you.” He reached his hand under her chin and tilted it up so she would look at him. “I get it and I’m sure the announcement party didn’t help.”

Her eyes watered. “It really didn’t. None of them have any idea. They all just assume this was planned. They all just assume this is Tamlin’s and when I try to correct them, they just -” She took a shaky breath and her hand went to the small bump poking out from her dress. “Tam says stress isn’t good for the baby.”

”It’s not,” Lucien replied. “If they’re mine, they might come out looking grumpy and be mistaken for Eris if you aren’t careful. Try explaining that to the court.”

That made her laugh. “You’re right.” She gave him a soft smile. “He’s a boy, by the way. Don’t tell Elain, she doesn’t know yet.”

Lucien’s grin beamed with likeness of the sun. “We’re having a boy?”

“Yes. We are having a boy.” She paused and bit her lip. She knew the answer but after the party, her worries continued to fall from her lips without warning. “If this is Tam’s baby, are you sure you aren’t going to be mad?”

Lucien sighed. “I’ve already told you, it doesn’t matter if he’s mine or Tam’s, he will be ours.” Lucien tapped his finger on her nose. “Get those thoughts out of your mind. Don’t let the courtiers get to you. And go tell Elain before I find her first. I won’t be able to help myself and she’ll be livid you told me first.” 

Flora nodded and smiled again. Lucien always knew how to make her feel better. She stood on her toes and gave him a quick kiss before setting off to find Elain. He was right on that part; Elain was going to be livid she was the last to know. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tamlin made her nap in a guest room citing he ‘had a surprise’ for her. She was too tired to question it. Five months in and between being either absolutely insatiable and exhausted, she took his word for it and laid down. It wasn’t until after dinner that night, he escorted her to their rooms, grinning the whole time. 

“What did you do?” She asked, not able to suppress her own smile. 

“Come see.” 

They entered through the sitting room and into their bed chamber. Nothing looked different; Tamlin guided her forward into the next room and she gasped. The nursery was finished- and fully finished. Her hand went instantly to her stomach, where she felt the flutters of life moving inside her. 

“It’s beautiful,” she blinked back her tears. “Oh, Tamlin.” 

She called out things as she noticed them. The walls were painted a pretty light green. A bassinet in the middle and an oak crib against the wall near their room for later. Even the rug was beautiful- her favorite flowers stitched in throughout. Other furniture filled the room, all a deep oak like the crib. There was even a rocking chair and bookshelf by the window. 

“Do you notice anything else?” 

She frowned, looking up at her husband’s knowing smirk. She looked around the room again- everything was new. The room even smelled of wood still. She frowned harder; that wasn’t right. She glanced around the room again and finally noticed it. A new door opposite their own. 

“Where does that go?” She asked. 

“To Lu and Lainy’s rooms.” 

She jerked her head towards him again with her mouth open. “They’re moving? Really?” 

They talked about it so often before that Flora thought it was mute at this point. She desperately wanted them to be closer than where their rooms were now on the other side of the manor but didn’t want to push them. They deserved their own space. Even with the baby- especially with the baby. But knowing they agreed to move closer- she started crying. 

“We’ve been waiting for time to put the door in so they’d have access to the nursery too if needed.” Tamlin reached up and wiped her tears. “These are happy ones, correct?” She nodded. “Good. Come, I want you to pick out the curtains for the window.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Three more months to go and Flora was ready to evict this baby now. Sitting was a little uncomfortable, her belly becoming rounder by the day. It didn’t help that her babe started to kick daily, for no other reason than to make his mother uncomfortable. 

Even outside in the garden, where the chairs could lounge out to prop up one’s feet weren’t comfortable. It was Elain’s idea to take their tea outside today. Flora shuffled about in her chair while Elain poured tea into a cup. 

“Drink this,” Elain sat the tea cup and saucer beside her. 

“What is it?” Flora was scared to sniff it. Last time she smelled anything but black tea she nearly hurled. Though that was early on in her pregnancy. She avoided it ever since. 

“Raspberry mint. I made it for Feyre and it seemed to help with the second pregnancy.”

She took a hesitant sip and her eyes widened right before she downed more of it. She sat back her chair and made an inappropriate noise. 

“This is the best tea I’ve ever had.” She took another drink from the saucer. “Thank you Elain.”

“You’re welcome. Hopefully it calms the little rascal.” 

Flora nodded and resisted the urge to down the rest of her cup. She set aside and watched Elain take a sip of her own tea. 

“How are your sisters?” 

Elain contemplated for a moment. Flora didn’t know if that was a bad sign or not. 

“Nesta has taken on a writing project.” Elain cut her eyes to Flora with a knowing look. “A romance novel.” 

Flora sat up straighter. “Really? On a scale of what I read and what you read, how smutty is it?” 

��What you read. You know Nes adores those Drake books. Stands to reason she would write something equally scandalous.” 

“You know you love those books too,” Flora playfully rolled her eyes. “I hope she completes it. Tell her I look forward to having a copy on my bookshelf.”

Elain grinned. “I will make sure to let her know.”

“And Feyre? How is she?” 

Flora held no ill will to the female. What happened between her and Tamlin was in the past. 

“She’s good. The twins are giving her hell.” Flora laughed at that. “She handed off her workshops to local artists. So now she’s only supervising the ones in Illyria and Hewn city, occasionally hosting an event.” 

“I thought you mentioned she planned for that?” 

Elain took a sip of her tea. “She did. She’s just been putting off for decades. She’s worse than Lucien, having her hands in so many pots.” 

Flora couldn’t disagree. She picked her tea backup and drank the rest before it was too cold. It was only minutes later when she realized she could still feel the baby move but his kicking stopped. 

“By the cauldron I thought he’d never stop. You’re a lifesaver, Lainy.” 

She only smiled and took another sip of her tea. They settled into a nice silence but Flora’s mind spiraled. No longer focused on her baby’s excessive kicking, she couldn’t help but wonder further about Elain’s sisters. She hadn’t had time to ask. Or even think about it but now…

“Elain?” She hummed in acknowledgment. Flora smoothed out the fabric on her belly idly. “Have you explained to your sisters he might be Lucien’s?” 

“I have.” She replied. “They are aware we have a different relationship, the four of us. They are understanding. You don’t know them as well as I do, but I promise they will not care. If they did, I would never let them hear the end of it.”

She accepted that response. Elain studied her for a moment, then reached over, placing her hand on Flora’s stomach. 

“No matter what, this is our baby. We’ve been over this. I will love him no matter who fathered him.”

“I know, I know. Thank you.” 

Elain gave her a soft smile and pulled back her hand to stand. She came over and gave Flora a quick kiss. She patted Flora’s shoulder. 

“Come, let’s clean this up and go bother our husbands.” She said with a grin. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The time finally came and Flora labored off and on for days. The whole time Tamlin never left her side. Lucien kept the court running and Elain took over the kitchens by cooking. She’d brought all kinds of food every few hours to see if Flora would eat. Flora took most of the pastries. She joked the baby had a sweet tooth but they all knew it was just Flora’s preference. 

It felt like an eternity passed before it came time to push. Their healer in the room supervised as planned. With Lucien and Elain flanking her sides, and holding her hands, Tamlin caught their child as he was pushed out into this world. Flora should have known the second she felt the head crown and Tamlin’s widened, what was about to happen. Of course she was too focused on screaming her own lungs out from the pain and pressure to realize it for what it was.

Their healer beside him cleaned out the baby's mouth and wails filled the room. Flora was finally handed a baby boy with the brightest red hair she’d ever seen in her life. And she laughed. She laughed and cried as she pulled her baby to her chest. All those months of worry, all the love for this tiny little being she grew in her body, and all the stress from labor hit her at once. 

It was bittersweet but not in the way she expected or planned for. She didn’t realize Elain had moved off the bed until Tamlin was right beside her, hands cupping her face as he kissed her forehead then her lips. He was crying too but there was no sadness in his eyes. No words were exchanged; they weren’t needed. It was their healer who finally intervened, moving Tamlin so her assistant could take the baby to clean up and she could take over for the rest of the process. Flora looked over to see Lucien and Elain still by her side. Both of them had red eyes also. 

“We have a baby,” Flora choked out, tears renewed. Both of them grinned at her. 

“We do,” Lucien laughed through his tears. 

They both gave her a long kiss each before the healer shooed them out to give Flora some space. They all agreed when she first became pregnant that no matter what, she wanted Tamlin by her side during the first few hours of recovery. She still felt guilty sending Lucien out, knowing what she knew now. 

The guilt didn’t last long when she felt like she had to push again. 

Tamlin was utterly smitten. Flora watched him cradle their baby in his arms while the head healer made certain everything else was gone and felt around her stomach. He was so gentle, like he was afraid he would break him. The healer finally took the baby back to show Flora how to feed him. Once he was settled, they cleaned up and Flora moved into their room. 

After some time with just her and the baby, Tamlin came back to join her on the bed. She also finally realized how exhausted she was. Being back in her own bed, with her baby calm had relaxed her heavily. Tamlin put their son in the cradle by the bed and crawled up next to her. They were silent for a long time, so much she almost fell asleep with Tamlin rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. His soft voice pulled her back from sleep. 

“Flora?” 

“Tam.”

“How do you feel?” He was still stroking her knuckles nervously. 

“Exhausted.” She knew that’s not what he meant. “Numb. I worried so much. I was so anxious. Now it’s over and I don’t feel anything.”

“Look at me,” he pulled back and tilted her chin up gently. His sad green eyes pleaded with hers. “The second you start feeling upset or overwhelmed, you tell me. Because you will- you just had a baby, our baby. Your body might be in shock.”

He let go and she nodded. “I know. I promise. I love you.”

“I love you,” he kissed her forehead. “Do you want to bring Lu and Lainy in? Or do you want to rest?” 

“They can come in. They need to meet their son proper.” She grinned when she said that. Their son. The four of them. 

“I’ll get them.” 

Tamlin went through the door to the nursery and shortly came back with Lucien and Elain right behind him. After a few exchanges of kisses with Flora, Lucien took the babe first. Elain came and sat by her while Lucien stood, rocking the baby gently in his arms. 

Then his brows furrowed, confusion etched in his face. “Are we sure he’s mine?” 

“That’s exactly what Beron said when you were born,” Tamlin replied immediately, causing Flora and Elain to snort with laughter. 

“No, I mean it,” Lucien replied through his own chuckles. “His eyes are green.” 

“No, they aren’t,” Flora replied. 

She had stared at her son the whole time she had him and fed him. Not once did she notice his eyes being green when he opened them. Elain got up and Lucien lowered him for her to look. Shock went over her face. 

“Flora, they’re green.” 

They brought their son over to her. She frowned as she took him and he grunted from being passed around. It took a moment for him to open his eyes again. Flora’s mouth fell open. Her son’s eyes were green. Tamlin’s green. 

Tamlin looked down at their son with a soft smile. “The Mother has a sense of humor. When we said our baby she knew we meant it.” He sighed and looked at his wife. “Do you still want to wait? Before we tell your parents he’s here?”

“Gods yes.” Flora’s parents always meant well, but were so overbearing sometimes. “I need a few days before my mother descends upon the manor. I’m also going to need all three of you here to explain this.” She smoothed her son's red hair gently. 

Along with overbearing, they weren’t understanding of her relationships. They only kept their mouths shut thanks to Tamlin being High Lord. Elain’s sisters understood. Lucien’s parents understood a little too well, considering who his father was. Flora was going to have to mentally prepare for the explanations she’d have to provide. Elain pulled her from her thoughts, moving her mate to sit beside Flora. 

“Have you picked the name?” 

Elain looked between her and Tamlin with her big doe eyes, innocently trying to hide her excitement. She’d been begging them to tell her what they picked for weeks. A small list was made by the four of them and from there, her and Tam picked two weeks ago. 

“Yes Lainey,” Flora bumped her forehead gently against Elain’s. “We’re going with Ezryn.” 

“Not the grumpy one,” Lucien exclaimed albeit playfully. 

Before Flora could even scold him, Ezryn grunted and shuffled in his swaddle. It would have been perfect timing if his hair hadn’t changed from bright red to brown. Her eyes widened as she just stared at her baby, silence between the four of them deafening. It was finally Elain, who said something. 

“Oh he’s going to be a rascal.” She covered her mouth and looked at her mate. 

Then Flora laughed again. Laughed and cried like she had when she held him for the first time. The whole time she was worried about his hair and he changed it. Which meant her worries, her acceptance of her fate, was all a waste. Tamlin was laughing too, his head on her shoulder. 

“He’s worse than you,” she wiped her eyes, turning her head to her husband. “By the mother he’s only a few hours old.”

“I still think he’s Lucien’s,” Tamlin chuckled, which sent Lucien howling. 

Ezryn did not like that. To be fair to him, his little fae ears could only handle so much. Tamlin took him, rocking him gently in his arms. Lucien and Elain both made their exit, promising to come back with dinner later so Flora could rest. By the time he was settled again, Flora was also nearly asleep. 

“He’s going to be a menace,” she whispered after Tamlin put their son in his cradle. 

“He’s our menace.” Tamlin got in the bed with her. “His powers are just fluctuating because he’s a newborn. They’ll taper out in a day or so.” 

She nodded and yawned. She then snuggled up to Tamlin to try and rest, though her mind raced. 

“Will you check on Lucien later?” She whispered. “I’m worried. We all thought…”

“I will, I promise.” He took her hand that laid on his chest and gently squeezed it. “I think he’s fine, but I will ask Lainy to keep an eye on him. Today was a lot for all of us.” 

“It was.” She yawned again. “Thank you.” 

Silence fell between them. She let Tamlin brush his fingers through her hair until she finally fell asleep.

[stevesworld96]

look at me now (part two)

--- steve harrington x fem!reader

steve visits you before the vecna fight.

childhood friends to strangers to lovers. this is a more realistic look at developing a relationship with steve, set in canon while you know nothing about the monsters, or the nightmares, or all of his scars.

a fic about knowing steve before, during, and after the events of the upside down. including all the ways your friendship with him grows, wilts, then grows again - to blossom into something he probably doesn’t deserve. 

tags: fem reader, no use of y/n, childhood friends, kissing, cliches, a lot of emotions, depression and suffering etc, mentions of death and injuries, steve retells canon events and deaths, codependent steve and robin, steve is so so so so so so so sad. hawkins doesn't get destroyed after the vecna fight - everything else follows canon

please read both parts, i worked so hard on this fic and i'm really proud of it :)

part one!!!

word count: 9280

-

Steve didn't call you the next morning.

You waited until noon. By that time morning was officially over, and your phone still hadn’t rang. 

It was hard not to be upset about it after what happened the night before. You were just about to kiss him, and he knew it. Maybe after a night of sleep, he woke up regretting it. 

Maybe that’s why he didn’t call. 

If you didn’t talk to him, you would go mad with assumptions. If you thought about it long enough, you’d break your own heart. 

It wasn’t that big of a deal. Steve could be forgetful. It’s possible that it slipped his mind, or Robin was still feeling unwell. 

But if there was some other reason, you needed to hear it as soon as possible. 

Before your evening shift at Roses you stopped by Family Video. You visited him there often, so he wouldn’t be amiss seeing you - hopefully. 

When you walked into the video store, the sound of the bell had four heads snapping in your direction. You searched for the eyes you came here to see, and you didn’t notice the rogue tape on the floor that caught your foot. Robin, Dustin, Max, and Steve watched you trip, and you stuttered back to steady feet. 

The two kids were behind the counter at the computer. There was a mess on the floor. Everyone was staring at you like you had turned into something terrifying after walking inside. 

The three of them started whispering to Steve, Robin being the loudest. You caught, “go make her leave,” and, “why is she here?” 

And you didn’t understand, and Steve was shuffling toward you like a fast-paced robot, and something felt seriously off. 

Still, you smiled at him, something forced. “Hey.” 

“Hey. Look - we - we’re closing early today, so…” 

He was trying to walk you toward the door. You wanted to know why. 

“Oh, well - I just wanted to come see you before work. You didn’t call like you said you would.” 

“I know, I know.” He looked over his shoulder at the group behind him. They all made different faces and shooing motions. “You need to go, alright? You can’t be here right now.” 

“Steve?” 

You had made it to the door and he opened it for you. And he was giving you no sympathy in the way he looked at you, his features hard as stone. 

“Did I - is this about last night?” 

“No. It’s nothing to do with you, okay?” You didn’t believe him, and he didn’t try convincing you. Instead he pushed you through the threshold. “Just go. Go to work, I’ll see you later, okay?” 

“Why are you doing this? Just tell me, Steve, seriously. I can handle it.” 

The way he sighed was dramatic, closing his eyes and hanging his head, but it was real. Annoyance and frustration, that’s what it was - two things he never directed at you. At least, not anymore. 

“Please. Just listen to me, for once. Please just go. I can’t talk to you right now.” 

You didn’t have a choice, really. The other option was standing there and arguing with him, and you had a feeling he didn’t have a fight in him. 

So you left. You heard the door close as soon as you turned your back. 

He didn’t even watch you go. 

The closer you got to your car, the more your throat burned. It was all a literal blur, with tears creating clouds in your vision. 

Visiting him had done the exact opposite of your goal. It made things worse, somehow, even though everything was fine five minutes ago. 

What the hell had happened between last night and right now? What could you have done?

Did Steve change his mind that fast? 

You thought about last night and the way that you felt. Your hands shaking, heart beating, mind racing - it was the same now, but with a pit in your stomach and tear tracks on your face. 

It didn’t seem fair. He didn’t have to be so cold. 

Why were they all being so cold? 

Maybe you had walked in on some important meeting. Max could have been telling them a secret, or Dustin could have been indulging an embarrassing story - or Steve could have been telling them what you had done last night. 

That’s what he meant when he said he didn’t want to fuck things up. Because he knew how you felt - because you weren’t hiding it at all - and he didn’t feel the same. 

And that’s why he didn’t call - because he was afraid to tell you. 

Because everything would change. Again. 

You felt it already in the way he looked at you. It wasn’t the same as it used to be. 

And maybe it would only get worse. 

...

Sundays were always the same. That was the only thought that got you through the mess of the day before. 

No matter what happened throughout the week, there was always a reliable refuge on Sunday. 

But Dustin’s bike wasn’t in its usual place on the edge of Steve’s yard. And Steve’s car wasn’t in his driveway. 

You were too shy to call, even though you knew he wasn’t home to pick up. Part of you wanted to call Family Video in case he’d taken a shift - just to hear his voice - but you couldn’t bear it. If you embarrassed yourself in front of him again, you’d never live it down. 

The worst part was knowing this could be all in your head. You could be putting yourself through emotional hell for nothing. 

But you had a feeling that wasn’t the case. 

Monday morning there was still no sign of Steve. 

It was like there was something pent up inside of you that you could never get out - is this how he felt when you spent a week avoiding him? Confused, and lonely, and hurt? 

All you wanted to do was go back in time and stop yourself from ruining everything. 

Tuesday night brought a simmering heat that you wanted to boil over. The sadness ebbed, giving you a break from your self loathing and doubt, making room for a burning anger. One so hot it brought you to tears. 

It was all so unfair. He spent so long convincing you he cared, only to show you unequivocally that he didn’t. 

And you never should have let him back in, and you definitely shouldn’t have gotten close enough for your heart to break. 

You tossed and turned for days, blaming yourself then him, never able to make up your mind. 

More and more, it seemed like nothing mattered. There had to be something he wasn’t telling you. You couldn’t change anything, even if you kept crying or hoping or overthinking. You had given up hope that he would simply turn up at your door. 

Of course, you still wished he would. 

It was Wednesday evening when you finally got what you wanted. 

The sun had just barely set, bathing that spring day in a light navy that was destined to get darker. That’s when a knock echoed from your door and you found Steve’s apologetic eyes behind it. 

As you looked at him, the emotions you felt through the week rewinded. Acceptance, dread, anger - denial, shame, sadness - it all ran through like rushing water, leaving you with a pounding heart and unsteady hands. 

Your lips parted for no words to pass through them. He was getting uncomfortable under your stare so you dropped it to the floor and rebuilt your resolve. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I really needed to see you.” 

His voice wasn’t soft. It was almost demanding, the way he said it. Urgent. 

“Can I come in?” 

You didn’t reply; you turned and walked inside, expecting him to follow. Heavy footfall echoed in your hallway stalking you to your kitchen. 

You kept your back to him because you didn’t have the energy for a face-off. You’d rather pretend to look interested in the newspaper that sat on the counter in front of you. 

“What’s up?” you asked, playing nonchalant. 

“I really don’t have a lot of time,” he said. You heard him tapping the marble kitchen island countertop. 

“Okay…” 

“I know you’re mad. I know I forgot to call, and I’ve been gone, but I can’t explain anything. Not right now, maybe… not ever.” 

“Then… why are you here?” A genuine question.

“Because -” 

A crack in his voice brought silence that was louder than a crowded room; one where you could hear his deep breathing stutter. 

He was probably trying to find the right thing to say. Something that would make you forgive him instantly - words sweeter than a bouquet of flowers and an apology letter. You already decided you weren’t going to fall for it. 

“Because I needed to see you. That’s it.” 

“Steve.” 

“Can you look at me? Please?” And it wasn’t urgency this time, but desperation. 

You turned to face him but your gaze stuck to the floor. He planted himself on steel toed combat boots that you had never seen him wear before. 

“I know you’re pissed off and I know it’s unfair, but can you pretend to not be? For two minutes? Because I - I didn’t come here to fix it. But I had to see you while I had time.” 

It had you sneaking up his frame, curiosity taking the place of boldness as you put together the pieces of what he was wearing. 

He looked dressed for war, or to go play pretend army man. 

Dark green cargo pants that would have been too big without the tight belt tying them to his waist. 

Some kind of kevlar vest was over the brown leather of a jacket with patches all down the arms, all of them representing something American militaristic. 

Dirt coated fists, up to his wrists and you were sure passed. On his face from his ears to under his eyes, his forehead down to his neck. 

His neck, a nasty welt wrapped all the way around it twice. Dark red in its obvious freshness, splotchy in a need to be cared for, cleaned, disinfected. It looked like he had gotten into something bad, and there were no clues for who had given him such an ugly injury.

You stared, and your nails cut your palms, and you spoke too loud when you said, “What did you do?” 

He knew what you were referring to, looking down as if he could see it. You watched as his lips tried to form words of defense that never came. 

“Did you - did you -”

“No.” 

“Steve.” 

“If I told you what happened, you wouldn’t believe me.” 

“Tell me.” 

“Next time I’m here, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.” 

You hadn’t noticed you had stepped closer to him until you had his eyes in yours, looking at you like he meant every word. 

“You’re scaring me, Steve.” 

“I know. I know, I’m sorry.” 

He checked his watch, then sighed. 

He stuttered over his words like he didn’t know what he was saying. “We - Robin and some others, we’re - we’re - we’re going out of town tonight. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’ll let you know, okay? I’ll call you.” 

“I don’t understand -” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey, I’m sorry.” He rubbed at his eyes for a second, like he could buff out the stress in them. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. 

Your concern only grew as he took a small step backwards. 

“Steve, you - can’t you just stay here with me? Why do you have to go?” 

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry, okay?” It sounded like he was trying to soothe himself rather than you. “I’ll be back.”

You called his name, trying to stop him, but he turned from you. 

“I won’t forget to call you this time, okay?” 

You took those steps toward him, you reached out to grab him, but he walked out of your reach. When he got to the doorway, he stopped. He stood still for just a moment, and then he was turning again. 

He looked like he had made a decision, and then he was coming back to you. 

And when he was in reach, you took hold of him. You pulled him in and he was all around you, hugging the life out of you, trying to squeeze all the worry out of you.

You pulled away just enough to look at him. His jaw fit in the palm of your hand like you were his mold. You held him as gently as you could, and you pulled him in, and you didn’t stop pulling until his lips hit yours. 

It was a kiss that should have happened days ago - maybe a long time before that. One that was brand new but still familiar; you could smell his cologne underneath leather, you felt his hands on your waist squeezing tight. 

You kissed him only just, and you felt overwhelmed with how much emotion you were trying to pour into it. 

When you pulled away, big hands held the sides of your face and brought you back. Your neck craned so he could kiss you how he wanted to for a second time; a messy mesh that made things feel okay, just for that moment. 

And it didn’t last long enough, because nothing so good ever did. When he broke it off he dropped his hold on you and walked away, slowly and then too fast. And that was it, and he was gone, and you wanted to chase after him but you were stuck where you stood. 

+

It wasn’t fair. 

I needed to see you, he had said, but he couldn’t even give a reason. You had no idea how selfish he was being. 

You wouldn’t even look at him. And when you did, it was like you were scared of him. And you were angry, and he couldn’t fix a fucking thing - not when the weight of this town was on his shoulders. 

He wiped the taste of you off his lips and pulled on the winnebago’s door until it creaked open. 

Because I may never see you again, is what he wanted to say. He wanted to give you a reason. He wanted to rip himself apart, there in your kitchen; show you the fresh wounds and the healed scars and the blood stains. He wanted to fall and cry and forget, without feeling bad for hoping you’d catch him. 

He walked into that god awful RV, sat in the driver’s seat, and started driving without so much as a second thought. 

And he was scared even though he couldn’t be. It was like his heart skipped a beat - he felt it falling out of his chest, into his stomach. A flash of cold crept up his spine until his hands were ice. Open wounds on his back, chest, arms all throbbed, drumming a beat that was fiercely alive. A reminder he appreciated. 

A deep breath was all it took, and every punch he had ever thrown played in his mind. Every swing, strike, and scream. All of them landing back on him.

He’d do it all again, tonight, because he had to. He didn’t sign up for it. And it wasn’t fucking fair. But he made his choice, and this was it. 

And this time, Steve didn’t know who would come out of it alive. 

So maybe it was selfish to ask the group if he could make a pitstop at your house when there was something bigger looming. And maybe it was unfair, because nobody else got to say their just in case goodbyes. 

But he wouldn’t feel bad. He couldn’t, because every time he closed his eyes he was being dragged underwater, he felt that bat’s tail tightening around his throat, he heard the sound of teeth digging into his own flesh. 

It was that jolt of helplessness, all over again, ten times worse. 

It was nobody coming to help him. 

It was being left for dead, to rot in the stomach of monsters he couldn’t fight off. 

He could hear his own last words. 

And he saw Robin at your front door telling you what happened with no explanation. You asking questions that would never be answered - being angry at him forever, because he didn’t call like he said he would. He saw you living without him - himself dying without you. 

But he opens his eyes, and he’s still here. Driving down a winding road to some place that might be the death of him and all his friends. And he’s still breathing, and he feels you holding him like he’s worth more than the dirt and blood he’s covered in, and it’s enough. It has to be.

… 

You wondered if your lips would ever stop buzzing - if the butterflies in your stomach would finally die. Neither happened by morning, and you were sure you were cursed to feel them forever. 

There was no sense to be made out of the conversation you had with Steve the night before. The army gear he wore was confusing enough - the wounds he had and the words he spoke had your mind going haywire. 

And you could do nothing but wait, and ask yourself the same questions. You spent your time finding distractions and not thinking too hard. 

One day turned into two, and missing him never got comfortable. Concern sat in your chest like a rock. You couldn’t even look in the direction of his house without a chill going up your spine, and you had to sleep with the radio on to keep your mind from racing. 

You couldn’t think. You didn’t want to. 

Because - what if he wasn’t coming back? 

You didn’t know, but you really wished he would have taken you with him to wherever he was going. If he was running away, he should have known you’d want to go, too. 

Two days turned into four.

You weren’t okay until you saw him again. 

It was his car pulling up in front of your house. You were out checking the mailbox when you heard the sound of an engine; you glanced over your shoulder, not expecting it to be his car, but when you realized, it felt like you had been run over by it. 

Mail landed on the grass as your slipper caught the curb. His door opened and you were there, already on him, bouncing on your toes to wrap yourself around his neck. He caught you. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” You breathed the words out. “Oh my god.” 

“I’m sorry,” but he didn’t sound it. He sounded happier than ever. 

It was purely opposite to how he spoke to you days ago. The grim in his words was gone, as was the grime. He was clean, and he had slept, and he was right there in your arms. 

“Sorry doesn’t fix it,” you said. You didn’t notice you were crying until you saw tears dripping into his sweater. “You aren’t leaving again.” 

He wobbled around until you were pressed up against his car door, your hug becoming even tighter. 

“I’m sorry. I’m not leaving, I promise.” 

“Never,” you said, and he laughed. “What happened, Steve? Are you going to tell me?” 

You pulled back just enough to look at him, and you found him with his eyes shut tight. 

“No.”

The wound on his neck was more of a bruise, now, dark reds and purples painting his skin like a necklace. You wondered how long it would be there - if there’d always be a scar. Time would tell. 

He continued, “No - not right now. I don’t want to talk about it,” and you pulled him back into you, hugging him tight. “Not yet.” 

“Whenever you’re ready,” you said, offering the patience he was asking you for. “I don’t care. Just don’t scare me like that again.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “God, I’m so sorry. I’m so happy. Missed you so fucking much, you have no idea.” 

You wondered if you could stand right there in the street hugging him forever. In his arms, til the end of time, letting cars drive by and the seasons change around you, nothing ever pulling you apart. Never having anything between you again. 

“Stay with me tonight,” you said. It was quiet, and it was a desperate beg. “Please. Can you?” 

“I don’t know...” 

He was pulling back and you didn’t want him to, but the way his big hand held your face had you reeling. 

“I’ll stay as long as I can.”

“Just one night?” 

He was pushing your hair back like he wanted it out of the way - like he needed it out of your face so he could get a better look at you. And his eyes roamed over you like it was the first time he’d ever seen you. 

“I want to. I have to check on Dustin, later, and Nance - and Max, in the morning.” 

You shoved your face back into his shoulder. He was here, but he wasn’t here to stay. And he had no answers for your questions. And, maybe, he wasn’t going to kiss you again. 

Is that why you had a funny feeling in the pit of your stomach? Is that what you were so afraid of? 

You didn’t understand what he was going through, and he wasn’t helping you to. 

Maybe you didn’t have to know, or it wasn’t your place, but you ached with a need to help him. Curiosity ate at you, and the weary way he spoke kept feeding it. 

But there was nothing you could do. You had started getting used to that feeling.

So, “Okay,” you said. Because you couldn’t push, you couldn’t ask. It was easier for him if you didn’t argue, and that’s what he needed. Something easy. 

“Don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re pouting.” 

“I’m not.” 

He laughed, something real and cute, and it had a smile starting to stretch on your face. 

“I know you are. I know you.” He was speaking right into your ear; his quiet voice was the only thing you could hear. His voice was the same as always, stoking the flames in your heart and smothering the ones in your stomach. “Let me see.” 

“I’m not pouting,” and you pulled your smiling face from where it was hidden. You pulled out of his hold, catching both his hands in yours. “Are you gonna come in?” 

“I was thinking about it,” he said. So you led him inside. 

… 

And you hoped beyond it all that the week would be nothing but a blip in time, but it didn’t seem like things would go back to normal any time soon. 

If Steve was distant before, he was miles away now. 

He was trying, but there was always something he wasn’t saying. You had no idea how to get it out of him even after spending every day with him. 

You didn’t see Robin again until you had already gotten used to the April showers, and she offered nothing more than meek smiles and one word answers during your hang out. 

You hadn’t seen Dustin at all. Erica, either. Sundays had become like any other day. 

Steve hadn’t mentioned the girl, but he talked about Dustin sometimes. Every few days he’d say he was going to check on him - for a reason you didn’t know. 

Max was in the hospital. Steve didn’t say the reason or how she was doing. But you knew that on the days he visited her, he left home early and got back real late. You gave him his space on those days. 

And then it was May, and nothing had changed, and you had gotten used to it. 

...

The nights were starting to get warmer, and Steve was grateful for it. He could sit out on his patio all night, with nothing but a hoodie and half a pack to get him to too late. 

He’d made a habit out of it without noticing. Out of staying up until three every night. Out of losing count of the stars in the sky. Out of chain smoking until he couldn’t hold his eyes open. 

He used to be scared of the dark. When he was a kid, it was the only fear he could fathom. And, recently, it terrified him. 

Now, he looked over his backyard, into the stretch of forest beyond it, and he didn’t feel a thing. If there was something hiding in the shadows, something he should be afraid of, it’d have to show itself first. 

He wasn’t wasting any more time being afraid of story book monsters that might exist, because he knows what fear is now. He’s looked it in its eye, and he’s felt it punching him in the face, and he’s heard it screaming his name for help. 

If it was dark all the time, Steve wouldn’t mind one bit. 

And then his patio door was sliding open, and he felt his heart in his throat. 

Maybe he wasn’t as tough as he thought. 

“Hey.” 

Your voice cut through the pounding. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in.” 

“No, it’s okay.” He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and shoved it up his sleeve, feeling a need to hide them from you - even though he had one tucked behind his ear that he was sure you could see. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

You sat with him, crouching down and getting as comfortable as you could on the wooden porch. He watched you fold your arms into yourself. 

“Getting some peace and quiet,” he said. “No jacket?” 

“Didn’t think you’d be outside,” you said. “Should I go get one?” 

He was already getting up before you could finish asking. He brought you a jacket and a blanket, and got himself a Coke. Better than beer, he figured. 

You grabbed all three from him. “How’d you know I was thirsty?” 

All he did was grin at you. He slid the door shut behind him, and then sat down against it, across from you. You were sitting too close for him to stretch his legs out; he kept them bent, his arms slung over his knees. 

Now that you were here, his thoughts weren’t the loudest thing in his head. You had always been like that - too noisy to let the quiet smother him. Most times, he appreciated that. 

It wasn’t helping now, though. Your tapping on the ground and the tune you hummed weren’t drowning out a thing. 

He couldn’t stop fucking thinking. 

You passed him the soda can, and he held it lazily between his bent knees. 

He didn’t even want it. He wasn’t thirsty. Really, he only wanted to light the cigarette you hadn’t spotted yet. 

“Are you okay?” you asked. 

He stared at the chipped paint under his feet. His teeth gnawed at the inside of his cheek, over and over at the same spot until it was bleeding. And, god, it was a familiar taste. One that made him sick. 

He tossed his head back and it hit the glass with a thud. He looked at you, once, and then passed you. At the rippling water in the pool. 

He stared at it. Stared and stared and stared, until he had to say something. 

“Do you remember when Will Byers went missing?” 

He wanted to see the reaction on your face, but he couldn’t look away from the water. He could see that night, the party, and what happened afterward. 

“Yeah… our junior year, right?” 

He gave a barely there nod. 

“It was Will, and then it was Barb.” 

He looked to his lap, but he was still seeing that fucking night. He saw the blood in Barb’s hand, and he heard the hurt in her voice, and he remembered not caring at all. 

“Fuck. It’s all so fucked up.” 

He didn’t care when he should’ve, and now it’s useless. It doesn’t matter if he cares or not, but he wants to rip his fucking heart out, anyway. He wants to go back in time and do it all over again, even if it would lead to a disaster. Even if it would change everything or nothing. 

And he shouldn’t be so upset about it, because it doesn’t make a difference. Not anymore. He could be as careless as he wants, now, because no one is around to be hurt by it. 

“Why are you thinking about that, Steve?” 

“Because that’s when all this shit started.” 

He spoke without thinking, words falling out of his mouth like a running faucet, because he didn’t have the energy to keep a secret anymore. 

It started with Barb, but it didn’t end with her. Or with Billy. Or Hopper, or Chrissy - and, maybe, not with Eddie. 

And how many others had been taken in between? 

His throat felt tight; he coughed through it. He sat the Coke between his feet, and realized his lighter was there, too. 

He brought a palm to his eyes. “You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you. It’s - it’s fucking unbelievable, but it’s all true.” 

“Steve.” 

“It’s stupid.” 

“You can tell me.”

He was getting overwhelmed. His breaths started to stagger on top of each other, making it hard to catch even one. Tears welled in his eyes as he squeezed them shut. It was all too much - he needed to get it out. 

Because nothing between you and him would ever be normal if he never stopped hiding this from you. What, was he going to hide his scars from you forever? Or never explain why he didn’t sleep at night? Would all of his weapons be excused away as decorations?

No - he wanted to let you in. 

“It’s all so fucking stupid.” 

He was laughing, and you must have thought he was fucking crazy. 

“Barb - she was here that night.” 

“What?” 

“This is the last place she was seen. And I just acted like it wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t care, even when I found out she was missing.” 

And he felt like an open fucking wound; the still healing rips on his torso leaking blood, too much for his shirt to absorb. His head throbbing, his eye swollen shut. Iron in his mouth, on his fists, pooling around him. Something wrapped around his throat. Bile filling it. He hadn’t healed. His injuries were all still there. 

“And I show up to Jonathan Byers’ house, and I knock on his door, and I knew - I fucking knew something was wrong. Like, seriously wrong. And I forced Nancy to let me in, and I didn’t run when they told me to. And I should have just fucking listened.” 

He thought about Barb, Billy, Chrissy, Jason, Eddie. All of them, victims to the thing he’s had nightmares about for years, and he can’t stop his first thought: I’m just glad it wasn’t me. 

But it’s the thought that comes after that he keeps getting hung up on: Should it have been?

“I don’t know what they said about Will. I don’t know what excuse they made up, or what you think happened - if he was lost in the forest, or - or if he ran away, but none of it is true. He disappeared. He wasn’t here anymore. He was gone - literally, gone. In another dimension. Literally.” 

Steve couldn’t know if you were understanding - if you were even capable of believing something so unreal. But you had to. You had to know. He’d been carrying around this secret, and it was the biggest thing in his life. 

Because he wanted to. Because he loved you. He wants you to love him - to understand who you’re loving. 

“Whatever you think about all the shit that happens in Hawkins… they say it’s a curse, or whatever, but - you don’t know the half of it. You don’t know any of it. It’s not a curse. It’s just a coincidence. If it didn’t happen in Hawkins, it would have happened somewhere else.” 

You still hadn’t said anything. You just sat there, staring at your hands in your lap. Steve wasn’t sure if he appreciated the silence or not, but he wasn’t used to it. 

“Will went missing. And a girl showed up. Eleven. El. You’ve seen her with Mike, or Max. You know her. You know Hawkins Lab? That’s where she grew up. She’s not just some girl, she’s - she’s someone’s science experiment. She’s got psychic powers. I’m not kidding.” 

“What?” 

There it was - the tilt in your voice that told him you didn’t believe a damn thing, and he didn’t blame you. 

And he laughed. 

“I swear.” 

“Psychic powers, like…?” 

He grabbed the Coke and took a long drink over a smile. He was looking at you like this was something casual. 

“I’ve seen her lift a car with her mind,” and he shrugged with it. The can rang on the floor; you picked it up and took a drink. 

You said nothing, and Steve felt like he was retelling a movie plot rather than his own life. It wasn’t a good feeling. 

“I don’t know what they were doing in the lab, but they - I don’t know. They opened a gate into another dimension. One just like Hawkins, but fucked up beyond belief. The Upside Down. That’s where Will went. It’s where Barb died. It’s where all your nightmares go to turn into spit soaked monsters, probably.” 

He pulled down his cigarette and rolled it back and forth between his fingers, digging his thumb’s nail into the filter. It was some old menthol crush, the last of its pack that he’d bummed at a party a few weeks back. He hated the way it stung the back of his throat, hated the taste it left in his mouth even more. The Marlboro Reds burned a hole in his hoodie sleeve where they were still hidden. Those smoked better - they were fresher, smoother. 

“Dustin comes up with these insane sounding names for all the shit that comes out of that place. Demogorgans. Demodogs.” He had to chuckle and roll his eyes at himself. “The Mind Flayer. That’s what wrecked Starcourt.” 

“The mall?” 

Steve nodded. 

“You said it was a fire.” 

“I lied.” 

“Then what was it?” 

He put the menthol between his lips. He hated the mint, but he always cracked the capsule, anyway. Someone told him it was bad luck not to.

He stared at you, and he wrapped his teeth around the cigarette filter. His jaw tensed with a bite. It popped, and he grabbed his lighter, and he didn’t look away from you. 

And then he got into it. He told you about Dustin hearing Russian being spoken over his radio. And how he learned how smart Robin really is, when she translated the words and then understood the secret message they were relaying. He explained how they’d gotten Erica to sneak into the air vents, and how that led to all four of them sneaking into a storage room that turned into a sinking elevator. 

He told you about the Russians, about how they were opening their own gate. He told you about getting kidnapped by them, and all the ways they had made those few hours hell. 

He didn’t spare the details, because he was tired of downplaying it all. And in that bunker, he thought he was dead. He shouldn’t have to tiptoe around that. 

And he told you about the drug they’d given him and Robin, and how he would be dead if it wasn’t for Dustin and Erica, and how fucking scared he was even after he got out. 

And they got out, and then he was driving a car straight into Billy fucking Hargrove, and then all of them were fighting something that looked bigger than the entire sky. 

And he doesn’t know how he remembers it all so clearly. 

“And then it was over… and I called you.” He still hadn’t lit his smoke - it’d been hanging from his lips the whole time he spoke. 

You stared at him like you were trying to find his missing pieces. Glass coated your eyes and worry wormed its way between your brows, and Steve hated it. He wasn’t telling you any of this so you’d feel bad. He didn’t want you crying for him, or at all. 

He laughed only just. “And you had no idea what you were picking me up from.” 

You breathed in a loose sniffle. “No shit.” 

Scratch, rip, hit -

Scratch, rip, hit - 

Scratch, rip, hiss.

A flame lit up his face as tobacco started to burn. Nasty numbing mint chilled his throat as he puffed out his chest, and he held in a cough on the exhale. 

He held the lighter loose in the air, between his raised knees. 

“Do you believe me?” 

“I don’t believe you could make any of that up.” 

“I’m sorry I never told you.” Mumbled words were barely heard over the scratch, rip, hit as he played with the Bic like a toy. And he didn’t sound all too sorry - he sounded tired. 

Wind ripped through the night and carried smoke and ash with it. 

“What about spring break?” 

He looked up at you. “What?” 

“Spring break,” you said again. You looked down from his eyes to his neck, where shadows of a bruised scar remained. “Something else happened, didn’t it?” 

Somehow, in the reminiscing of fights past, he’d forgotten about everything most recent. That was the only way he could forget about it - by thinking about all the shit that came before. 

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, redundant answers easier to give than an explanation. Listening to the scratch, rip, hiss, watching a flickering flame, breathing in more smoke. 

He let go of fidgeting with the lighter to pull the cigarette from his mouth. He exhaled smoke then hit it again; he held the hit so long that what he breathed out was thin. 

And as he ashed his cigarette, he decided he didn’t want to get into it. He didn’t want to replay those events like a story. So, again, he said, “Yeah.” 

“What happened?” It wasn’t a push - Steve appreciated the concern you had. 

“Same as always. It was a fight. It’s… it’s supposed to be over now. Really over.” 

He remembered it like it was yesterday: setting Vecna aflame that caught all of The Upside Down with it. The whole place burned, from its vines to its crumbled buildings to the monsters in the sky. The gates closed themselves like they had never been open. 

And it was over, even if it was too late. 

“The Upside Down is gone. It should be. Hopefully. But… I was lucky to get out. Some of us didn’t.” He shrugged, like it was casual. He stared at the cherry on the cigarette, burning bright orange. 

And he couldn’t keep talking, even though he knew what part came next. He knew what words he had to say. But he couldn’t. 

It seemed you caught on enough, because you said them for him. “Max?”

He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt, holding back tears he’d already cried before. 

“She’s been in a coma since,” he said. “I didn’t know how to tell you.” 

“But you’ve seen her?” 

His response came hesitant. “I’ve tried,” and he wanted to leave it at that, so no cries came after, but his mouth kept talking. “Robin goes in. I can’t even make myself get out of the damn car.” 

All he felt was shame, but he swallowed it. 

“You heard about Chrissy Cunningham?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It wasn’t Eddie Munson who killed her.” You nodded - Steve figured you understood what he meant enough to spare the details. “Eddie - god, Eddie would’ve died for her. He would’ve died for anybody. He died for this fucking town.” 

Another pull from the smoke that was almost gone. Breathe in, breathe out. 

“He was a dumbass. A freak - a fucking idiot.” He wished Eddie was listening to him - Steve wanted him to hear all the insults he was throwing his way, because they were all true. It was stupid the way Eddie died. He shouldn’t have. 

“And Dustin’s been a mess ever since, and there’s nothing I can do. Robin’s a bigger wreck than she used to be. No one’s handling it.” 

“How are you handling it?” 

And Steve didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t sure he had one. 

“I’m fine.” He wasn’t lying - he was fine. Somewhere between good and bad, coping through flashbacks and nightmares. He wasn’t lost in it. He was dealing. 

“Steve…” 

The last drag from his barely there cigarette burned hot, and he savored the pull until his lungs were full. He didn’t empty them until he stood up, and he looked around for the ashtray. 

His words were smoke. “Do you want to go in? It’s late.” 

He found it on the table, stubbed out the cigarette, and then he stuffed the hidden pack into his pocket. 

You repeated his name behind him, and he ignored you. And then your hand was on his back, and you were pulling him in before he could hear you coming. 

It was a tight hug he had to fight out of just so he could turn and reciprocate. His arms around your shoulders were just as tight as yours around his waist.

“I’m sorry.” It was a whisper he didn’t even know he was breathing out, until he was repeating it into your hairline. “I had to tell you. I needed you to know. I’m sorry.” 

Your response was muddy, spoken into his shoulder. He laughed and pulled back enough to look at you. 

“What?” 

“Don’t say sorry.” You wore a grumpy look, your words were demanding, and Steve laughed some more. “Why are you laughing? Stop.” 

“Because you’re funny.” His thumb smoothed out the worry between your brows and put them back where they belonged. “And really cute.” 

You pressed your cheek into his chest. “I’m being serious. I’m just glad you’re okay.” 

“Yeah. Me too, believe me.”

A kiss on your forehead had you squeezing him tighter, and he ignored how tender the injuries on his back and stomach were. They were just barely forming scars, but the way you hugged him had him feeling like they weren’t even there. It made him feel special. He felt better. 

So he kissed your skin again and willed himself to tamper the thoughts of when he was kissing your lips instead. “Let’s go in, honey.” He pulled you loose from him. 

It seemed like you had a realization, then; your eyes went wide and you looked at him like you couldn’t stop. “That’s why you came to see me that night - because…” 

You trailed off, maybe not knowing what to say, and Steve wasn’t sure where to pick up. He could tell you the suffocating truth, or a less embarrassing lie. 

Something in between, “Because I needed to.” 

“I didn’t know it was that serious,” you said. “I mean - I knew there was something really wrong, but… I didn’t know - I didn’t think that could be our first and last kiss - I didn’t know you could’ve died.” 

“I wasn’t trying to scare you. You weren’t supposed to think that.” He felt bad, but he didn’t regret the visit. “And, technically - it was our first and second kiss.” 

You breathed a laugh as your forehead fell into the crook of his neck. “I hate your technicalities.” 

He laughed, too, and the joy helped distract him from the anxiety running through him. 

He thought about that kiss every day - about how he made sure to do it twice, all because he wasn’t going to die without getting to kiss you a second time. Once wasn’t enough, so he took the second without any time passing. 

But he wouldn’t tell you any of that. He was scared to know how you’d feel about it. 

That’s why he hasn’t brought it up until now. Until you said something first. 

He pulled away from you again, really meaning to bring you inside this time because he hated having you out so late. But he froze when he saw tears on your lash line, looking like crystals clinging to your eyelashes. 

He swore he felt his heart break. “Sweetheart.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t cry - hey, don’t cry for me, alright? I’m right here, honey, hey.” 

He crouched down to be eye level with you and he sat on the table behind him. He cradled your face - you tried pulling away, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“If you would’ve told me the truth, I never would have let you go.” You spoke so sadly. 

“I know. I know, honey, but you don’t have to think about it anymore - it’s okay. There’s nothing to cry about.” 

Tears were still falling, and you were still mumbling through them. “I would’ve kissed you more if I knew you might not come back.” 

And he needed you to stop crying. He’d do anything - he’d confess all his feelings right there, if that’s what it took. 

“I was always coming back. I’m right here, you got me, look at me.” 

You shook your head but did what he said; he was wiping your tears with his sleeve, chuckling through the ache in his chest. 

“You think I was gonna kiss you then go get myself killed? No shot. What’d you think I was living for, huh?”

“That’s not funny, Steve.” But you were smiling. 

“I’m not trying to be.” He was smiling, too. “I mean it. Nothing would keep me from coming back to you, alright? I’m right here - you can keep me forever, I’ll kiss you as much as you want, just stop crying.” 

“I can’t help it.” You wiped your nose and squeezed your eyes closed, and it looked like your breathing was steadier. “Do you mean it?” 

“Which part?” 

“I can keep you forever?” 

“Of course.”

And he watched your cheeks swell into a smile you tried to hide. “And you’ll kiss me?” 

He had no idea how to be charming or sly underneath your gaze, so he wasn’t. Instead, he was a stuttering, shy, lovesick fool. 

“I - I mean, yeah - yeah, if you… want me to, I guess - I mean, I definitely want to, so - it’s up to you?” 

He didn’t even care if he sounded like an idiot, because that’s exactly what he was. And you knew it. 

“Obviously I want you to, Steve.” 

His thumb pressed into your cheek. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Obviously, huh?” 

He was obsessed with your smile, addicted to feeling it grow into his palm. 

“I’ve only been sending signals for months, but you haven’t caught any of them.” 

“Oh, I’ve caught them, alright - was just waiting for the right moment.” 

“Like right now?” 

And, just like the first time, you kissed him. It was as soft as it could possibly be. Two smiles meeting after too long apart, his hands on your face, yours on his chest. 

He pulled away, then brought you back to him, tilting your chin so he could kiss you for real. He moved his lips and yours followed his lead. 

Your fingers crawled up and up until they were sneaking behind his neck, getting lost in his hair. He tugged you closer - your body was flush against his. 

He felt you everywhere; you stood between his legs, your chest and his were rising and falling with each other. 

Behind his closed eyes, he was in another world. He saw you pulling him in close, he felt your hand tightening around his, he heard your voice calling out his name.

He heard himself telling you every secret he’d ever kept. He saw the house he’d build for you, and the bed he’d sleep in with you, and the ring he’d give you. He saw it all.

It was heart racing. 

It was wanting to be with you forever. 

It was you wanting to be with him, too. 

And then you pulled away. 

And he opened his eyes. 

And you were right there in front of him, smiling just for him to see, and he felt like melting into a puddle. 

“You’ll kiss me as much as I want, right? Is that what you said?” 

God, he wanted to squeeze you like a stuffed animal - you drove him crazy. Absolutely batshit insane. 

He pulled you back in with both hands on your face and kissed you something awful - pressing against you hard, making sure to leave your lips glossy when he pulled back to laugh. 

“Just like that, as much as you want.” 

“Never again.” 

It was funny when you tugged away from him. Both of you were laughing, but he couldn’t take it. You weren’t getting far. 

“Don’t leave, it’s what you wanted!” 

He chased behind and it was quick when he caught you, right at the patio door. He turned you around and pressed you into the glass, and he kissed you again like he couldn’t help it - because he couldn’t. 

The way you kissed was new, and he already loved it, but he ached to know you. To know just how to get you to open up for him, to learn how to kiss you exactly as you liked. 

He would figure it out - he wouldn’t stop until he did. And he’d make do for the moment, leading the way through your shyness, not letting anything stop him. 

Your lips parted after enough convincing, and with your open mouth against his it was impossible for him to hold back the noise he made. A groan, or a growl, he wasn’t sure - but it had you whining back to him as he tasted your tongue. 

It was hot but it was slow, and there was nothing Steve wouldn’t give for it to last forever. Despite that, he broke first. 

“As much as you want,” he told you, speaking low, words scratched with something rough. “God, I’d kiss you forever if you let me, baby - however you wanted me to.” 

“Forever?” 

“As long as you’ll let me,” he grinned. “As long as you’ll keep me.” 

“I’ve already had you around for a while…” 

“Not like this,” he insisted. “At least let me get good at kissing you before you throw me out on the curb.” 

“You’re already good,” you said, kissing his jaw. 

He hummed, teasing. “Let me get better, then. Gotta get up to par with you, honey.” 

“What can I say? I’ve had a lot of kissing practice, babe.” 

He rolled his eyes, acting dramatic. “Oh, I bet you have, babe.” 

“Like you haven’t had your practice, too, honey.” 

“Okay - let’s stop bringing up the past, alright?” He tugged the glass door open behind you, then pushed you through it. Laughter filled his house as the door shut behind him. 

“You started it!” 

“I literally didn’t! You brought up your hours of practice!” 

“I never said it was hours!” 

“I’m filling in the blanks!” 

“Oh my god.” You were making quick steps to the stairs - he followed like a lost dog. 

“Is this our first fight?” 

You were halfway up the staircase when you turned and looked down to him, still stood at the bottom. The lighting around you was dim and your grin was blinding him. “Only if you don’t let me sleep over tonight.” Your hands were on your hips, your eyes were drawing him in. “And this isn’t our first fight. Our first fight was over a Snickers bar.” 

“And I don’t think we ever made up, now that I think about it.” 

He took the stairs two at a time to get to you, and he gave you his smuggest grin. 

“Really? We’re still fighting over it?” 

“Til the end of time,” he stated. “But I can look past our differences just for tonight.” 

“That gives me time to make it up to you.” 

...

Did you know everything about Steve Harrington?

You thought you did. You spent years believing it. 

You knew more about him than the average person, sure - but how could you have been so smug? How could you act like such a know it all? 

You learn new things about him every day, now. Even when you thought there was nothing left that you didn’t know. 

As it turns out, you knew next to nothing about him. And you liked it that way. It made doing life with him that much more exciting. 

You sat with him now in the passenger seat of his car. The morning sun cast everything in gold, making the day feel brand new. You watched as he tapped his finger on the steering wheel, making a terrible beat. 

He kept shaking his head back and forth, and you only just realized that you had noticed him doing it before. It was a nervous tick. It never stood out to you until now - something new.

“Are you okay?” 

He seemed to freeze at the sound of your voice, as if he had forgotten you were even there. 

“Yeah, I’m alright.” 

You took his hand and brought it up to your lips. 

He continued, “I don’t know if I can do this,” and he looked out the window rather than at you.

You squeezed his hand tight. “I know you can, baby. You did it last week.” 

“It was fucking hard.” 

“It’ll be easier this time. Why won’t you look at me, babe?” 

He did; his eyes were down turned and sad. 

You kissed his hand again. “You don’t have to force yourself, Steve. If it’s really too hard -”

“I have to. I know I do.” 

You gave him a sad smile, then sat up and across the console to kiss his cheek. He leaned into it, and you lingered there. “You’ll be proud of yourself. I’ll be proud of you.” 

“I know.” 

You turned his face toward yours, and he was nothing but stressed. “Are you sure you’re okay, Steve? It’s okay if you can’t push yourself today.”

He sighed loud, and you knew he was trying to be overdramatic. “I’m okay, honey. I just… get like this.” 

You giggled, “I know.” 

“I can’t help it.”

“I know, babe,” and you pressed your lips against his quick. “You’re okay. I’ll be out here the whole time waiting, okay?” 

“Okay. Thank you.” 

You handed him the bouquet of flowers and bag of snacks from your lap. “Lucas is expecting you.” You passed him a stack of old books, ones Steve had picked from your collection that he thought Lucas and Max would enjoy.

He took them, and then he kissed you again, just for the sake of it. “Thank you.” 

He opened his door, and as he stepped out of the car, you found three words on the tip of your tongue threatening to fall out of your mouth - and you slapped a hand over your lips when you realized what they were. 

When he shut the door and you were out of the danger zone, you breathed a deep sigh of relief. 

You were nervous because of him. 

That was new, too. 

You watched through the windshield as he walked toward the hospital doors, and you said those three words to yourself, and tucked that new discovery into your back pocket. 

It was all new horizons with Steve, from there on out. 

He was brand new to you, and you absolutely loved him for it.  

-

part one!

thank u for reading. kiss

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 5461

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

8. Banana-Dulce Cheesecake

Bucky

It occurs to him to tell Steve about the kiss later that night, when Steve is three fingers deep in him and Bucky wants some leverage to make him get in him already. He’s told him four damn times already to move things along.

“Sweetheart,” he coos, making an effort to control his voice so that Steve doesn’t know just how well he’s getting at his prostate like this. “If you don’t listen to me and get your dick in me in the next fifteen seconds, I’m tying you up and riding the dildo while you watch.”

Steve’s rhythm falters and his eyes widen, because he knows his husband and he knows it’s no idle threat. Sexual denial is one of Bucky’s favorite cruelties. “Fuck,” he whispers. “Okay, okay.” His fingers leave a sad absence inside of Bucky, but he gets right to work in reaching for the lube bottle to slick himself up.

“Aht, forgetting something?” Bucky raises his eyebrow and watches Steve huff in exasperation as he stretches across the bed to reach for their beside drawer. Bucky takes the opportunity to smack his ass, enjoying the slight jiggle and the clenching muscle. “Good boy,” he purrs, as Steve comes back with a condom in hand. 

Even when he’s fucking Bucky, Steve isn’t allowed to come inside of him. Only Bucky gets the privilege of leaving a load up inside his husband's ass, a possessive reminder left behind to slide out, slow and filthy. He watches Steve roll the latex down his dick and then give himself a few indulgent pulls with the lube. He's red and throbbing, and Bucky can tell by the way he keeps sucking his bottom lip back into his mouth that he’s feeling very sensitive. “That feel good, Honey?”

“Nngh.”

“That’s enough. C’mere.” He hooks his heels in behind Steve’s ass to urge him forward. Steve drops his dick and climbs over him, settling into the spread of his legs and reaching down to line himself up. Bucky feels the wet drag of his cockhead over his hole.

Obedient boy, he thinks with a smirk. But it slips off his face when Steve starts to push in. He inhales sharply through his nose and closes his eyes as he focuses on letting Steve in. “Ungh,” he grunts quietly, brow furrowed at the stretch.

“You okay?” Steve’s hovering, not pushing any further. Waiting for permission.

Bucky swallows and nods, because he is okay, but goddamn. Sometimes he forgets just how big his Stevie really is. (No better reminder than to have it shoved up his ass.) “Yeah,” he pants, sliding his hands up the backs of Steve’s arms and feeling up the tension in his triceps—he’s straining so beautifully, trying so very hard to hold still for him. It makes Bucky melt when he opens his eyes again and gets a look at the beautifully pinched expression on Steve’s face.

Oh, his golden boy.

“C’mere, you,” he husks, pulling him down by the jaw for a kiss. It forces Steve’s cock a little bit further into him, and he groans at the stretch. “Ff-uck, uhn, Ssteve.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

He shoves his tongue into Steve’s mouth like it’s payback for the way he’s invading his body right now, the lewd, wet swipe of his tongue a counterpoint to Steve’s dick. Bucky just wants to get inside his man, any way he can. Steve makes a filthy, tortured noise when their tongues roll together, and Bucky relishes it. He growls and drives their mouths together again and again, making it sloppy, taking Steve’s breath away, tongue-fucking his mouth before he gets any real chance to start fucking him.

“Buck,” Steve breathes, the word wet on his lips as he holds himself still. He’s looking so pleadingly at Bucky, near-pained self restraint and begging eyes that make Bucky want to destroy him. “Please. I gotta. Gotta move.”

Bucky feels that ever-familiar dark thrill zip through him. “Yeah?” he asks, mock sympathy lacing his tone. He strokes Steve’s hair. “Is that what you want, big guy? You wanna bury that fat cock up in me? Wanna go to town?” Steve nods, of course he does, and Bucky forces one more harsh, unyielding kiss onto him before he pulls back and relents. “Okay Baby, push it in a little. Go slow. Make yourself feel good.”

Steve sags with relief, instantly sinking deeper into Bucky’s body. He goes slow like he’s been told, easing in each of the seven plus girthy inches he has to give, and since Bucky’s just put up with God knows how much time and lube and fingers softening him up for this, it doesn’t hurt.

It’s just so fucking much.

Steve waits once he’s settled all the way inside, because he knows he needs permission to start thrusting. Bucky strokes a tender thumb just under his eye, taking the time to soak up his expression, his pretty features when he’s feeling good like this. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, y’know that?”

Steve grins shakily and knocks their foreheads together. “That why you married me?”

“Mmm. Had to do somethin’. Couldn’t let somebody else get at you.” Bucky grinds up, feeling Steve’s hot length rub inside him, so big. “Oh, Honey.”

“Fuck,” Steve says tersely. “Fuck, Bucky please. Say I can. C’mon Baby.”

Bucky nods, and that’s all the permission Steve needs. He starts moving, thrusting into Bucky with short, deep rolls of his hips. Steve’s a goddamn savant when it comes to getting at Bucky’s sweet spot with his dick, and now’s no exception. Bucky hisses as sparks fly up his spine, his balls pressed deliciously by Steve’s pubic bone every time he rocks in deep. It’s so damn good. “S-sumthin happened today,” he says, stuttering over his words in a way he almost never does.

“Mm.” Steve starts necking at him, humming in acknowledgement. “What?”

“With Mary,” Bucky grunts. “I—nnh—I kissed her.”

Against his neck, Steve makes this tiny, appreciative sound that just about makes Bucky's blood boil. His hips jolt down in an uncontrolled thrust. “Yeah? She liked it?”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes, a dirty thrill shooting through him at this: at talking about someone else while Steve fucks him. Talking about her. “Yeah she did. She felt so good, Stevie. Felt so nice in my arms.” 

Steve groans again. "Tell me."

“Wanted more, God, I wanted to squeeze her, y’know? Trap her. Right up between me and you.”

“Fuck, Bucky. Uhn.”

“Yeah.” They’re grinding filthily now, all firm and deep, skin slapping quietly, Bucky’s legs wrapped up around Steve’s waist to draw him in hard again and again. “I wanna do something about it,” he pants. “Want to have her.”

Steve moans and nods, his face pinking from the effort, from the thought of the three of them together. This, the idea of the two of them in a three-way relationship with a woman, used to be one of their biggest fantasies that they’d talk about. “Can we?” he asks, looking to Bucky for permission. Always to Bucky. It gets him hotter than anything, so in love with his man.

“Yeah,” he says, reaching down to grab handfuls of Steve’s flexing ass, urging him on. “Yeah we can. We’ll take her apart. Fuck her so good.”

“Oh, God. How?” Steve’s back to kissing on his neck while he grinds into him, dirty pants against sucked-wet skin going straight to Bucky’s dick. “Tell me.”

“Mm, I dunno. Maybe you can hold her, huh? Hold her open while I go down on her. Or maybe we’ll—ugh, shit—maybe we’ll both have her at the same time, yeah? You behind her and me in front, taking turns dipping our cocks in her ‘til she screams.” 

Steve groans, his hips slowing and his head sinking over Bucky’s shoulder—He’s close and doesn’t want to come.

Bucky bites sharply at his neck. “Did I say you could stop? Keep fucking me.”

Steve, trooper that he is, whimpers and gets back to it. Bucky grits his teeth, angling his hips into the thrusts just right so that his prostate is getting it good. “Aw, fuckyeah. Like that, Honey, juust like that. Shit. You’re gonna make Daddy cum, y’know that?”

Steve whines, his hips stuttering at the words. Bucky rarely calls himself “Daddy” when they’re together, it’s usually something he only utters when he’s domming a sub. But with Steve topping like this, Bucky needs the extra dominance. The growled words get to Steve too though, and he starts to come, shoving harder and uncoordinated. “Ohn ... shit,” he whimpers, the high pitched, desperate sound of it making Bucky’s cock pulse dangerously.

He growls and smashes their mouths together, shoves his flesh hand down between their bellies and grabs himself, starts stroking off hard and fast as he feels Steve’s jerky final thrusts. They finish seconds apart, with Steve still grinding his orgasm out as Bucky’s cock starts shooting up his belly and over his knuckles. “Uh, ughn, godyeah …”

They slump against each other with exhaustion once it’s done, panting against skin and reveling in the aftershocks. Steve eventually takes the initiative to pull out, getting rid of the condom and snuggling back up against Bucky’s side. Bucky hums and wraps his arm around him, pressing a kiss to the edge of his temple. “S’good,” he mumbles, letting Steve pull the blanket up to cover their legs, even though they haven’t even wiped off yet. It feels too good to move right now.

“So,” Steve says a few minutes later, his voice softened and lax from the afterglow. He’s got his head pillowed on Bucky’s chest, and Bucky begins to play idly with his hair. “The Mary thing.”

Bucky inhales deeply, his chest rising and falling underneath Steve’s cheek. “Yeah. The Mary thing.”

“What’s the plan?”

He doesn’t answer for a long time, picturing various scenarios in his sated brain. “Hell if I know.”

Bucky

Steve’s already back from his ass-o’clock morning jog and putzing around the kitchen by the time Bucky has finished dressing for work and emerges from the bedroom. He hears (and smells) the coffee pot percolating, and sighs gratefully as he walks into the kitchen to join him. “Mornin’ babe. Thanks. for getting that started.”

Steve gives him a cheerful peck on the lips as he passes to open one of the upper cabinets. “There’s a piece of cheesecake in the fridge for you,” he says. 

“Cheesecake?” Bucky’s slightly distracted by the shape of Steve’s muscular back through his tight Under Armour top as he stretches to reach his preferred to-go mug. “For breakfast?”

“I may have mentioned that it’s your favorite dessert of all time.” Steve shoots him a knowing smile when he turns back around. "Enjoy the view?"

"You know it," Bucky says, shameless. "I'll have to have a talk with her about making cheesecake. The first step is admitting you have a problem, and I have a problem."

Steve snickers and goes to grab the coffee pot and fill the mug. “At least take it to work with you for lunch. She’ll be bummed if you don’t.”

“Sure.” In the fridge, Bucky discovers a clear plastic clamshell box with a single slice of cheesecake inside. Previously unaware of any hunger, his stomach suddenly turns over in a growling vote of confidence for the cheesecake. “Damn,” he mutters, reaching in and pulling the clamshell out. “So that’s what the banana threats were for.”

“Yep.” Steve chuckles. “I already had a piece. And Buck:” He turns around and looks at him with theatrically wide eyes. “It’s really good.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.” Bucky checks the time on his phone, decides that he has enough time to sit down and eat it there before he leaves for work. He goes to grab a fork from the silverware drawer. Seated on the stool at the breakfast bar, his eyes slide shut as the first bite of dense, creamy goodness slides over his tongue. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” he moans. “Caramel.”

“I know, right?”

He opens his eyes again and gives Steve a withering look. “We’ve gotta set some boundaries for ourselves. Or she’ll have us rocking dad bods in no time.”

Mary’s laugh sounds from the hallway just before she appears, dressed in sneakers and workout clothes. “With the way you two work out? Yeah right.” She shoots a cheerful finger gun in Bucky’s direction. “And it’s dulce, not caramel.”

“Oh. Well I stand corrected, then.”

“Basically the same thing as American-style caramel.” She makes a face. “Which hardy counts at all. Just wait until I make you a real caramel. Where the sugar’s actually cooked dark enough to taste.” She nods with an adorable amount of conviction. “Your mouth’ll know the difference.”

“I’m sure it will,” Bucky drawls, looking her over with the same sort of appreciation that he’d just done with Steve. Mary wears leggings on a regular basis, which is always very enticing, but her gym leggings are even tighter, and it’s a total cocktease. Bucky waits until she has her back turned before he lets his gaze drop to her hips and ass. Jesus, help him. “You going to the gym?” he asks, knowing that it’s her day off.

“Yeah,” she huffs, going over to grab her jacket from the catchall. “I’ve gained so much weight since Halloween, it’s not even funny. Got about fifteen pounds to work off now. Blegch.”

Bucky actually puts his fork down, he’s so disturbed by the casual way that she throws it out.  “What?” he says, and Steve echoes him with a stifled noise in his throat that basically means the same thing. “Fifteen pounds?” He lets his eyes drag over her body, mouth agape. “Mary, wait.”

“What?” She’s shrugging her jacket on with a humorless laugh. “It’s true.”

“No it is fucking not,” Bucky snaps, and at hearing his tone, she stops laughing. “Mary,” he says sternly. “You do not need to lose any weight. And certainly not fifteen pounds. Jesus. That’s ludicrous.”

She turns around with an incredulous expression. “Seriously? I literally just heard you complaining about dad bods. Have you seen yourself? And you’re gonna talk to me about what’s ludicrous?”

Bucky frowns at how defensive she’s gotten and how fast. “Mare,” he says, trying to soften his tone. “You look great. Now I’m fine with you going to the gym if you want, but let’s not get out of hand, here.” Something about the tense determination in her features sets off alarm bells in his head. “You should wait to go to the gym with Steve when he goes in the afternoon,” he decides, making it an order. “You don’t need to be going by yourself.”

Her entire face screws up. “Excuse you,” she scowls. “I’m not a child. I can go to the freakin’ gym by myself.”

“No,” he says firmly. “I want you to wait.”

For a split second, he sees her expression smooth over at how calmly and firmly he’s said it—her own natural submissive reaction to a direct order from him. But that quickly bleeds back to astonished anger. “Sorry, Daddy, but I’m ready to go now. I already took my pre-sup and I’ll just waste it if I—”

“Pre-sup?” he hisses (forcing himself to ignore the ‘Daddy’ thing—holy shit). “What supplements are you taking?”

“None of your business!” She laughs meanly, and Bucky sees Steve shift out of the corner of his eye at how quickly this is devolving. “Jesus. I’m a grown woman, Bucky.”

“I know that, Mary,�� he grits. “Now take your coat off and wait for Steve.”

“No.”

“Have you even had any breakfast?” he growls.

“I don’t like to eat before a workout,” she says, grabbing up her purse from the catchall. 

“Mary,” Steve pleads, looking worriedly at Bucky. “You should have something for fuel. C’mon, let me make you a piece of toast at least.”

She huffs, shouldering her purse and heading for the door. “You guys’ bread has like a hundred and thirty calories a slice. No thanks. I’m fine.” She unlocks the deadbolt and reaches for the doorknob.

Bucky lets loose his full Dom-voice when he warns, “Mary, don’t you open that door.”

Her shoulders visibly tense, as if she’s fighting off the full-body urge to obey him. “I’ll be back in a couple hours,” she says, then pulls open the door and leaves.

Bucky stares, furious. “A couple of hours?!” The barstool’s legs scrape against the floor as he hastily pushes out from the counter, intending to go after her.

“Babe, wait. No.” Steve stops him with both hands on his shoulders. “That’s not a good idea.”

“She just willfully disobeyed me!” Bucky snarls. “I can’t let that go!”

Steve’s fingers curl over his shoulders in a squeeze and he ducks his head to fix him with a meaningful look. “Buck, hey, take a deep breath. You’re not handling this well.” 

The message is clear. This is the way Steve talks to him when he’s trying to calm him down from domspace—and not the good kind of domspace, either. Bucky jerks away from his hold, but Steve arches an eyebrow, and so Bucky takes a few deep inhales and exhales, glaring at his husband the whole time he’s doing it. “She can’t get away with behavior like that,” he reiterates once he’s done. He forces his tone to be more calm so that Steve can’t hold it against him. “That was out of line. She needs to be corrected.”

“I know,” Steve says, still looking at him cautiously. “But we don’t have a discipline plan in place, so what’re you gonna do? Go grab her in public and drag her back here kicking and screaming?” 

Bucky's jaw works in frustration. “No," he grits. "No, that won't work."

“Good. I'm glad you can see that.” Some of the tension releases from Steve’s shoulders, and Bucky instantly feels bad. Poor Steve. He’s already married to one erstwhile/sometimes mental case, and now he’s got another one on the extreme opposite end of the spectrum to deal with.

“Sorry,” Bucky says tightly, turning away in embarrassment. He can still feel the ticking of his pulse in his veins, and the desire to control pulled tight throughout all his muscles. “Sorry,” he says again, going back to sit at the breakfast bar.

“It’s okay, Babe.”

He scoots back in to the counter and grabs his fork, moodily spearing another bite of the cheesecake. His thoughts still linger on the showdown with Mary as he chews, and after he swallows he mutters, “The hell’s gotten into her?” Normally she’ll go soft as a stick of butter the second he starts talking sternly at her, but this time she’d seemed to actually harden against him the more he tried it. 

Steve comes over with the to-go mug, emptying a Splenda packet into it. “You think it has anything to do with you kissing her?” 

Bucky frowns, not having considered that. He shakes his head grumpily. “No. She’s been coming down every night. It doesn’t make any sense for her to be acting like this."

“Okay, but Babe … maybe we should try to get her in to see Linda this week. See if there’s something she needs that we’re not—”

“What she needs is a quick trip over my lap,” he growls, left hand flexing. “She’s bratting.”

“She does like to go to the gym,” Steve hedges, but he shuts up when Bucky shoots him a withering glare. “Yeah, okay, maybe you’re right.”

“Damn right I’m right. Call the Center today. Try and get us in. The sooner the better.”

Steve nods. “And what do you suggest I do about her when she comes back?”

Bucky grunts and eats the last bite of cheesecake n his plate, vaguely aware that he would’ve savored it a lot more if he wasn’t so riled up over Mary’s behavior. “Just leave her alone. You’re right: we don’t have a discipline plan in place.” (Though he plans to correct that very soon.) “We’ll sort it out at this next visit. Linda already said she has strong indications for impact play.”

Steve winces. “Why do they need to put the word ‘play’ after everything?” Bucky shrugs, and Steve looks rueful. “You know she’s gonna throw a fit when you bring it up.”

“I know.” And he really doesn’t care. A dark thrill of dominance zips through Bucky at just the idea of putting Mary over his knee, of trapping her wrists at her lower back and holding her down, giving her a good spanking until she’s crying and grinding and sorry. “She’ll learn real quick that it’s what’s good for her. That girl needs consequences like a fish needs water."

“Uh huh.” Steve seems almost amused, but he holds up his hands again when he gets another glare from Bucky. “I’ll call and make an appointment, I will,” he promises. “But what about you, Babe?”

“What about me?”

Steve gives him a look. “You could stand to go in yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

His eyes slip down to Bucky’s left hand. “Babe ...”

Bucky looks down—Somewhere in the past few minutes, he’s bent the fork in his fist a little bit. Huffing, he sets it down.

“Take the morning off and go get a session in with one of the Pros,” Steve coaxes. “Spare your poor coworkers.”

Bucky scoffs and takes his plate to the sink to rinse it. “No. I’m fine.”

“Uh huh.”

“I am,” he insists, giving Steve a warning look when it seems like he’ll argue further. “Steve,”

“Okay, okay.” Steve holds up his hands in surrender. “Just trying to help.”

Bucky softens, feeling bad. “C’mere, you. Hey, I’m sorry.” He gives Steve a big hug, and then a kiss that’s equal parts possessive and apologetic. They part, and he smiles a little, nudging Steve’s nose with his. “You still having fun in the nuthouse?” he murmurs.

Steve ‘tsks’ at him for the joke and give him a chiding squeeze. “Yes,” he insists. “Now get going, nutso, before you're late. And don’t forget your coffee.”

Bucky gives him one last peck on the lips and then grabs his things. He puts his coat on and drapes his suit jacket over his arm at the door. “Try to keep her here once she’s back,” he says, frowning once again as he thinks about the “hours” remark Mary had made. “Ridiculous,” he mutters. 

“I’ll head over to the gym in a bit. Make sure she isn’t overdoing it,” Steve promises. “Now go on, try to have a good day. Try not to make your secretary cry.”

Bucky huffs, though he is smiling a little as he heads out the door. He’s only ever made his secretary cry once, and Steve will never, ever let him live it down. “Bye Babe. I Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Steve

That evening, they bite the bullet and show Mary the letter that came in the mail: addressed to Bucky, from the circuit court of New York. It lists the court date for review of Mary’s case of custodianship.

Steve’s expecting a meltdown, but what they get instead is a morose sort of silence. He’s not sure he wouldn’t prefer the meltdown. Mary just sniffs and doesn’t talk much, picking her portion of dinner to smithereens before deigning to eat any of it. After their nightly tv time and Bucky's low key domming, she goes off to bed without bidding them goodnight like she usually does.

Steve wakes in the early hours of the morning, having to take a piss. He’s just flushed and is considering being naughty and slipping out to the kitchen to grab himself a slice of cheesecake, when he sees that Mary’s bedroom door is open. He sticks his head in to check on her, but she’s not in her bed. “Mary?” he whispers.

That’s when he hears soft noises coming from the kitchen.

It’s Mary. Steve stalls in place when he sees her, leaning back against the cabinets and face splotchy from crying. She’s dressed in her workout clothes again, hair messy like she’s already been out and back from another workout. Steve frowns worriedly when he spots her house keys and empty water bottle on the counter next to her phone. “Hey Mare,” he says quietly, so that he doesn’t spook her. 

She sniffles as she sees him and hurriedly scrubs her face. “Oh. Hi Steve.”

“What are you doing up?” He takes a few cautious steps closer. “It’s late."

“Just wanted to get a snack,” she says, voice sounding tearful and pitiful. It’s such an obvious lie, Steve doesn’t even bother remarking on it.

“Were you at the gym again, Honey?” he asks. He’d had to intervene at the gym yesterday, when she’d been approaching hour number three with no signs of stopping. Now, he walks over and leans against the countertop’s edge right next to her. The room is dark, but he can just make out the silvery tracks left behind on her cheeks, the puffiness around her eyes. He smiles sadly at her. “You want to talk about it?”

Her expression pinches and she looks away. “No.”

“Okay.”

“... I went to the gym,” she eventually murmurs. 

“Yeah, I cry at the gym, too. All the time.” Steve nudges his bare foot against her sneakered one. “Come on,” he coaxes. “I’m a good listener.”

“You’re a good tattletale,” she grumbles.

“Hey.”

“Well you are. You tell Bucky everything I say and do. And he’s always on me about everything and I just …” she huffs. “I just don’t want to deal with it sometimes.”

“Well …” Steve hedges, knowing that he shouldn’t say what he’s about to say. “You could still tell me,” he offers. He lets his hand inch over on the counter’s edge and hooks his pinkie over hers. She looks down at it, then up to him. Steve’s mouth quirks. “Bucky can be a lot. I know. But he’s just trying to do what’s right. And you’ve gotta remember that he isn’t perfect. He has to live with this thing just like you do. Some days he handles it better than others.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Steve sighs. “Look, if there’s something you want to talk to me about, but you don’t want him to know, it can stay between us.” Mary looks over in surprise and Steve cringes. “Just ... promise me that you’ll talk it out with Linda, too?”

She hums noncommittally. “Walk me back to bed?”

“Course, Hon.”

She shuts herself into her bathroom and returns after a few minutes, dressed in pajamas and her hair towel dried. She seems surprised that Steve has stuck around when she sees him standing there, toeing the line of the doorway. "Oh."

“I didn’t know if you meant …” he shrugs. “Tuck you in?” 

She smiles a little, though it’s sad. Steve thinks she might’ve been crying again in the shower. “Sure,” she says, tucking her head down. She gets into bed and Steve covers her with the blankets, then sits on the edge of the mattress for a moment. “So do you want to talk?” he asks softly.

She chews her lip for a long moment, and just when Steve thinks she’s about to turn him down, she whispers, “... I don’t think it’s working the same anymore.”

“What isn’t working?” 

“The stuff with Bucky. The drops.”

Steve’s lips part in understanding. “Oh. I see.”

She nods and won't meet his eyes. “It doesn’t feel the same as it did before. Like it’s not as strong, or something. And it’s wearing off faster.” Her face pinches and for a second she really looks like she might cry. 

“Honey?” Steve reaches to tuck her damp hair back from her face, and that seems to be what does it. She starts crying and turns into the pillow, hiding there as her breath hitches in tiny sobs. Surprised, Steve lets his hand fall to her shoulder, where he gives her a comforting squeeze. “Hey,” he soothes. “Shhh, it’s okay. It's okay.”

She shakes her head with a little whimper. “No it’s not. I th-thought they’d stop now. They did stop, for a while.”

“What stopped?” Steve asks, confused. 

She sniffles, face crumpled up in distress. “I have bad dreams sometimes. That’s why I was up. Went to the gym to try and run it off.”

“Bad dreams?" Steve says, concerned. "You mean nightmares?" Sometimes Bucky has them too, so he's under no illusions about how debilitating they can be. "Mare?" he prods gently. "What are the nightmares about?”

She burrows further into the pillow, turning onto her side and curling up in a little ball. “Just stuff,” she mumbles. “From when I was a kid.”

Steve gets a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he has to really consider his words carefully before he speaks. He finally settles on a quiet, “Your dad?”

“... Yeah.”

Ouch. Steve swallows. “Honey … you really need to talk to somebody about this.”

She sniffles and shakes her head, and when Steve puts his hand on her shoulder again, she doesn’t try to shrug him off. “You promised not to tell Bucky,” she says.

Steve winces. “Yeah, I know.” Bucky and he already had a pretty good idea about this, but he doesn’t feel the need to point that out right now. “And you promised you’d talk with Linda,” he reminds. “It’s not safe for you to be sneaking out of here at night.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. "It’s just that ... the only thing that ever really made ‘em stop was getting drunk. And then with Bucky …” Her body shudders in a quiet sob. “But now it’s not working the same anymore! So what am I supposed to do?”

“Oh, Mare.” Steve rubs her shoulder. “Shh sh sh, Honey, it’s alright. It’s a process. We just gotta figure out what works for you." He gives her a comforting squeeze. “We’ve got an appointment for tomorrow, okay? We’re gonna talk to Linda and figure this all out. It’ll get better, I promise.” He bends to kiss the top of her head, and soothes her with a gentle litany of murmured words as she cries. “It’s okay, Mare. We’ll figure this out. It’s all gonna be okay.”

She calms down after a while of that, and Steve gives her one last hug before he stands to leave. “Goodnight, Sweetheart. Tomorrow’ll be a better day, you’ll see.”

“Steve?” He turns back around to see her peeking at him from over the top edge of the covers. “On the dresser. On the top, there's a ... You can take it.”

He’s confused, until he goes over and sees the only thing that’s sitting on top of the room’s highboy dresser. His heart all but stops. Carefully, he slides it into the palm of his hand, dread filling his chest like cold water. “Mary,” he says, fearful. “Did you—”

“No,” she says. “But I was thinking about it.” 

With a sinking sense of horror, he realizes what a massive mistake it was to tell Mary he’d keep secrets for her. “Mary,” he says warningly, “You know I can’t keep this from—”

“I’ll talk to Linda,” she says, looking at him with tearful, angry eyes that dig into Steve’s heart. “I gave it to you, didn’t I?”

Steve’s lips thin and he frowns, pained. “Where did you get it?” 

“From work.”

“Why would they have these at your work?”

Mary squirms, looking embarrassed. “It’s for a lamé. For scoring the bread before it goes in the oven.”

Steve sighs and drops his hand, letting his fingers curl loosely over the razorblade. “There’s a limit to this, you know,” he warns. “I want you to feel like you can talk to me without worrying that I’m gonna tell him every little thing, but he’s still my husband. And that means that my responsibility is to him, first.”

Her eyes lower in defeat. “Yeah,” she mumbles. “I know.”

“Hey.” He holds up the blade and gives her a pointed look. “And you can’t be doing this. Because at the end of the day, he’s still the one who’s legally responsible for you. He has to do what he thinks is in your best interest. We both do.”

She frowns and won’t meet his eyes, but after a moment she nods, and Steve believes that she means it when she mumbles a tiny little, “Kay.”

“Kay. You gonna try to get some sleep now?”

She nods, still tearful, but calmer. Steve gently bids her goodnight and heads for the door. When he’s almost got it closed, Mary calls out softly one more time. “Steve?”

“Yeah Honey?”

“Thank you,” she says, so quiet that Steve almost doesn’t hear. “I feel like … I just needed that. To talk to you.”

Steve’s shoulders relax and he smiles grimly, relieved to hear that he’s made her feel a little better, and that he’s able to be someone she can confide in. He even feels a little bit proud that she trusts him enough to tell him these things. It’s almost enough to take away his guilt over promising to keep secrets from his husband.

… Almost. 

“G’night, Mary,” he says. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night, Steve.”

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

🍵Consider tipping your friendly neighborhood starving artist smut author!

✍🏻Commissions: reach out via Tumblr DM or contact here

[cheapshrimpysheep]

No Kisses - Demon Brothers

SUMMARY: After tasting a Solomon's dish, your lips got infected. It's nothing serious, but it's contagious. So you decide not to kiss anyone until your lips heal. How do they react to the wait?

CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Kissing

WORD COUNT: An average of 280 words per character.

COMMENTS: I finally thought of something to write with the Obey Me! characters! Recently I got angular cheilitis. My lips are very dry. Nothing too serious, but that's what gave me the idea to write this.

I hope you enjoy. ;)

P.S.: Here’s the version with the Side Characters: No Kisses - Side Characters

CONTEXT: You couldn't get rid of tasting Solomon's new dish. He looked so proud and happy about it. And it didn't look as... deadly as the others. It was salty, but not too bad. The problem came later, your lips became drier than usual and small cuts formed on them. He was worried and apologized profusely.

The doctor told you it was nothing serious and gave you an ointment to put on your lips. But what you had was contagious through kissing. So you decide not to kiss anyone until your lips are completely healed.

Lucifer understands and appreciates your thoughtfulness. He also mentions something about making Solomon pay for it. He hides his sadness at not being able to kiss you for a week or more very well.

Protective as he is, he can be a little annoying as he always reminds you to put on the ointment. He will cook for you. He will make foods that don't require you to open your mouth too much so you don't force the now fragile elasticity of your lips. He'll probably also offer to put the ointment on your lips himself. And he’ll tell you not to worry because he will be very careful not to get infected.

He will still kiss you on the cheek or forehead. And be very sad to remember that he can't kiss your lips too. But of course, he doesn't show that.

If you sleep together, he'll look at your lips while you're sleeping. The only time his face will show what he truly feels about the situation. A mixture of sadness for not being able to kiss you and for seeing your beautiful lips dry and cut. And anger at Solomon for doing that to you.

When you are sure that your lips are healed and you tell him so, he will move closer and lift your chin to get a better look at your lips. He takes off his glove to run his thumb over your lips and check that they are healthy.

He will smile and not waste any more time to kiss you. Starts off affectionate but quickly escalates to a longing kiss. When your lips part he says: “I missed you. Now we can make up for the lost time.”

Super Sulky! Mammon can't hide for nothing how upset he is about that situation. He'll constantly bad-mouthing and curse Solomon until your lips heal.

You can still let him kiss your cheeks. But he'll forget about your infected lips and you'll have to be the one to stop him from kissing them. You’ll cover his mouth and see his eyes pouting. He'll sulk, mumble more curses at Solomon and hug you even tighter. Like a child hugging his teddy bear for consolation.

When he sees your face of discomfort while eating, he´ll offer to cook something else for you or cut your food into even smaller pieces. What do you mean it's like he's treating you like a child? He just want to help! Don't think that of him. That wasn't his intention!

If you sleep together, he'll look at your dry, cut lips while you're sleeping and pout. He is sad for you because you are the one with the lips like that and if a kiss from him could transfer all your pain to him, he would kiss you without thinking twice. Why did you taste Solomon's food? You big dummy...

When you are sure that your lips are healed and you tell him so: “Really? Are you sure?” and he will laugh happily. “Good! That's great! But no eatin’ Solomon’s food again, ya ear me?” You thank him for taking care of you and he'll blush a little. “Well, ya better be! Do you know how hard it was to resist to kiss you?... Well, no need for that now right? Come here~”

OH! THE TRAGEDY!!! Why? Why you and not him? If there were lips that should be cursed, it was his, not yours! Not your wonderful ones! ... Levi... chill... It's not like this is permanent. Please calm him down.

He will offer to cook for you. Making sure he cooks and cuts the food so as not to strain your now-fragile lips too much. Don't be surprised if he takes this opportunity to make themed foods. He'll probably even offer to feed you. (I'm remembering one of the first lessons from the original game)

He's always been the type to hesitate to kiss your lips, so this part wasn't so bad for him. But you not being able to kiss even one of his cheeks? He was sure he was being punished. At least you could still hug each other.

If you sleep together, and he's already past the face of being freaked out about that, he'll look at your lips while you're sleeping. Lips so wonderful and loving, now so dry and cut. It was blasphemy. And worse, it hurts you. You didn't deserve that. If only he could do something. But no, he was useless as usual...

When you are sure that your lips are healed and you tell him so: “Are you really sure? Do not rush the healing process.” To show him you're confident your lips are back to normal, you shower him with kisses and thank him for all the caring. His face turns completely red while he says he didn't do anything. You better shut him up with a kiss before he starts saying that he actually thought he was useless.

Satan is so pissed at Solomon! That bastard! Doing something like this to you. His anger is only tempered by the fact that he knows Solomon would never do this to you on purpose.

He'll read every possible book about anything related to your infection. He wants to gather all the information possible to take the best care of you. He’ll study the components of the ointment the doctor gave you if he has to. Our if he thinks he has to.

He will also offer to cook for you. He will look for the best recipes to comfort your sore lips. And he'll ask you if it's good and if it doesn't hurt your lips.

If you sleep together, he'll look at your lips while you're sleeping. He's more worried about you, about the possible pain you might be feeling, than about the fact that he can't feel your kiss for so long. Of course he's sad about it too, but he knows it's only temporary. Your lips were so good for him, and now they are like this, dry and cut. The anger for Solomon comes back when he thinks about it.

He will still kiss your cheeks and forehead even if you can't reciprocate. But then he'll remember something he read in a book once: a kiss where people don't use their lips, but their nose, and you can do that. But not in front of his brothers!

When you are sure that your lips are healed and you tell him so, he might already know that too. After all, he had been studying about the infection and had some idea of when your lips could be healed. You give him one of those nose kisses, thanking him for taking care of you. “Well, if you want to thank me... you can now thank me in a better way again.”

Another Desperate One! What a Tragedy! How can Asmo survive without your kisses? He literally puts one hand to his chest and the back of the other to his forehead when he hears your decision not to kiss anyone.

He knows the doctor gave you an ointment, but even so, he looks for any and all products that might also help your lips. And he'll take care of the rest of you too. Paint your nails, comb your hair, give you new clothes to try on. In an attempt to divert your attention from your lips and show how wonderful you are despite that.

Your lips are hurt, it's not just any food that can touch them. So maybe he'll cook for you, or order food that he thinks won't put too much strain on your lips. And he will take the opportunity to order aesthetic foods to photograph and publish on Devilgram.

Since he can still kiss you but you can't reciprocate, he'll kiss you in double. You will feel his arms around you slightly desperate for more than just hugs. And every now and then he will also say out loud how in need of your kisses he feels. Out of all seven, he's probably the one who shows it the most.

If you sleep together, he'll look at your dry, cut lips while you're sleeping. He's so sad. He doesn't blame Solomon for his cooking, or you for tasting it. he himself sometimes gives in to Solomon's requests. So, he just looks at you like a sad puppy.

When you are sure that your lips are healed and you tell him so, he's over the moon! He will fill you with kisses until he reaches your lips. If you let him, he will show you how much he missed them.

Beel is sad and he doesn't hide it. He looks at you like a sad puppy. No food in any of the three worlds can make up for the lack of your lips on his. But now that he thinks about it, does it hurt you when you open your mouth too wide? Oh! That's awful! He needs to take care of you and make you happy while your lips don't heal.

He can try to cook for you, but he'll have to control himself not to eat it or the ingredients before even start cooking. And if he does, he'll feel so bad! And will probably offer you his food. If the food is too big, he’ll cut it for you. With even more control not to eat it because he's already disappointed in himself for having already done it once.

He will still kiss your cheeks and forehead. And if you get excited, you'll forget about your infected lips and try to kiss them. You'll need to be the one stopping him. He will look at you sadly and apologize for forgetting.

If you sleep together, he'll look at your lips while you're sleeping. Sad puppy eyes again. Ask the Avatar of Gluttony not to taste the lips of the person he loves the most? He could just walk away from you, out of sight out of mind. But he would never leave you when you need him. So he just needs to hang in there.

When you are sure that your lips are healed and you tell him so, he’s like a trained dog that has been waiting for the owner to give the permission signal to eat his treat. He wants to kiss you so bad, but he'll only shower you with kisses while hugging you if you let him.

Belphie is the hardest to keep away from your lips. Because he couldn't give less of a crap. He doesn't care if his lips get infected too, he just wants your comfy lips on his. Belphie, NO!

He's too lazy to cook. If it's up to him, he prefers to order food. Or rather: just sleep together. Sleep helps to heal, and while you sleep you don't feel hungry. But if he sees you cooking, he might offer to help you.

He will keep hugging you, cuddle you, sleeping with you, kissing your cheeks, etc. Unlike others who, if they bring their lips closer to yours it's because they forgot about your infection, he will try to kiss you even knowing that. I mean, if he gets infected too, then there would be no need to not kiss each other. You'll need to be the one stopping him, for his own good.

If you sleep together, he'll look at your lips while you're sleeping. Again: he doesn't care how your lips look, he wants to kiss them. If you were assertive when you said you didn't want to infect him, he will respect that. Upset, but will respect that. If you weren't assertive enough, and left room to show that you wouldn't mind if he kissed you, he'll kiss you while you sleep. “If he gets infected too, then there would be no need to not kiss each other.”

When you are sure that your lips are healed and you tell him so, he’ll be like: "Finally! Will you let me kiss you now?"

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[vodika-vibes]

Heyoo!

I have a request, it’s a bit of a long gif so if ya don’t get to it or don’t wanna do it, it’s fine lol.

Anyways, my idea / request / prompt / Echo x Fem!Reader goes like this, kinda, feel free to take liberties

Echo, now I feel like he would be a nervous kinda guy when it comes to having a crush. Like, he just doesn’t know what to say and overthinks absolutely everything, and can’t rly take a hint. Before he got blown up, there was a girl, who he has a liiiitle crush on n such, (idk you can make her a mechanic, doctor, bartender, whatever idm)

And they were rly good “friends” n such r something, aaaand some time after he joins TBB he visits the old place where he used to reside with the other guys in the domino squad (I forget where *sob*) And she’s is surprisingly still there. Heartfelt angsty ?kinda? Maybe reunion yadayadaydada and a bit after that and after catching up, probably a day or two later they pick up hints that they like each other and eventually confess n StUfF, aaand ya, then he has to go back with TBB and they be sad, he invites her to join but she is hesitant, and bc the other squad members don’t even know her she ends up saying no- aaaaand ya-

( 💀 omg i don’t even know anymore )

Idk it’s a very weird prompt, I’m making this up as I go, so feel free to pick and choose, take or add, whatever u wanna do

Again if u don’t wanna do it that is perfectly fine, just a thought. Love your work! <33

I Dream Of Forever

Summary: Summary: You’ve been a bartender on Rishi since you were old enough to take orders correctly. Echo was a Clone Trooper turned ARC Trooper stationed on Rishi who was a little more than friends with you. You legitimately believe he’s dead. But when a group of clones land on Rishi, you come face to face with the man you hoped would be your forever.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 2201

Warnings: Some suggestive moments, but nothing detailed

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I thing I got the general vibe you want, but if I didn't please let me know and I'll do something else.

You’ve been a bartender at the same bar on Rishi since you were ten years old. Your parents had debts to the bar owner, and they sold you to make up for it. Well, you and your siblings.

You’re the lucky one.

Your…owner? Guardian? Whatever he is, he treats you like a beloved granddaughter. He buys you clothes and food and allows you to go to school…and until you reached the age of majority at 18, you only had to work four hours a night four days a week. 

He even paid for you to go to college, and he pays you well enough that you have your own home here on Rishi.

You’re lucky.

Your older brother, you know, ended up becoming a gladiator in the Outer Rim, and last you heard he’s an enforcer for the Hutt Cartel. Your older sister, however, became a drug runner for a Spice Cartel and last you heard she’s moving from rehab center to rehab center.

You’re lucky.

Maybe if you repeat it often enough, you’ll believe it.

All things considered, Rishi isn’t the worst place to spend your life. The area you live in is warm and bright and right on the water. Not to mention you’ve got several friends here that you would miss if you left…or if the Empire decides to actually deal with the pirate problem.

You’re not worried though.

The Republic’s war with the Separatists barely touched Rishi afterall, aside from having a single watch station that has been abandoned for years now.

And you don’t expect that the Empire will push too much.

Your gaze drifts from the food stall that you’re visiting, lingering on the small, almost overgrown, old Republic comm station. Once upon there had been five men stationed there. Hevy, Droidbait, Cutup, Fives, and Echo.

While you had some concerns as to how the pirates of Rishi would react to obvious soldiers spending time in their bars…people were surprisingly okay with them. More than one of them getting an offer to join different crews.

A small smile lifts your lips at the memory of your boys laughingly turning down offers of pirate crew memberships.

The Dominos had been Rishi’s, more so than the Republics, and people raged when they heard that they died.

First when Droidbait and Cutup died, and then later when they heard that Hevy was killed on Kamino. And then even later when Echo was blown up, and then Fives was killed-

Fives’ death was kind of the final straw for Rishi. 

Even now, the Pirates of Rishi are more than happy to raid imperial vessels, in honor of their Dominos.

You step around a group of Mercs, all of whom have dominoes tattooed on their hands, and start to meander your way back to your home. You miss them. All of them.

But, if you’re going to be honest, you probably miss Echo the most.

He was a lot like his brothers, loud and boisterous, and always ready with a joke or a quip, or to finish a joke that his twin set up. He was always the first to greet you with a grin, and the last to say goodbye at the end of the night.

But, unlike his brothers, he flirted with you a little shyly, as though he wasn’t sure what he was doing.

It was charming and sweet, and you found yourself smitten with him. 

He didn’t, quite, get over his shyness with you even after the first time you invited him into your home with tempting kisses. He was still a little shy even after the tenth time you invited him into your home, and your bed, with teasing touches and adoring kisses.

You wanted forever with him, and you thought, hoped, that he wanted the same.

And then he left, and you never heard from him again.

You suppose, in a way, it makes sense. Why would a soldier want to slum it with a bartender who’s technically a slave.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

After all, you still dream of forever with Echo. Only now, your dreams are definitely castles in the air.

After all, dead men don’t get happily ever afters.

“We need to land somewhere,” Tech says to his brothers, a frown on his face, “The damage to the ship is…far too severe for me to repair without landing.”

“Where can we land, though?” Wrecker asks, “It’s not like there are a large number of places that will accept us.”

Echo eyes the star map speculatively, “I…may have an idea.” He offers, as his gaze lands on a specific planet. A bright smile dances across your memory, and a loving laugh echoes in his ears.

He’s a kriffing fool.

Hopefully she won’t turn him away.

“Well?” Hunter prompts when Echo doesn’t continue right away.

“I think we should go to Rishi.” Echo says slowly.

“Rishi!” Tech sputters.

“That’s a pirate planet, Echo.” Hunter says, “They won’t react well-”

“Do you have a better idea?” Echo asks.

The room falls silent for a moment, and then Tech sighs, “It is up to you, Hunter. Rishi is the closest planet we can land on.”

Hunter pushes his hand through his hair, “Fine. Do it.”

An hour later, the Marauder lands on an open pad, and no one comes to the ship to speak to them. “Is this…normal?” Tech asks.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Echo replies with a shrug, “We should probably not wear our armor here,” He adds. He’s already changed into civilian attire, and he’s somewhat anxiously rubbing his arm just over where his scomp is attached. 

“Why?”

“Because our armor screams ‘clones’ and I’m not sure how the pirates will react to seeing clones now.” Echo replies dryly, “I’ve heard rumors of Rishi based Pirates raiding Republic and Imperial transports lately.”

Hunter agrees that it’s a reasonable precaution, and they all hurriedly change into civilian attire, before they get off the ship, with Omega clinging to Wrecker’s hand. And then, almost as one, they turn to Echo.

Echo sighs and rubs the back of his head, and then he turns and heads deeper into the city.

Some things have changed, new people, new stalls, but most everything else is the same. He pauses in front of a specific bar, and peers in, his dark eyes scanning the faces of the bartenders for a moment, before he motions for his brothers to follow him some more.

“Are you lookin’ for someone?” Wrecker asks.

“Yeah. Someone who, hopefully, won’t be too angry at me and will be willing to help.” Echo says.

“A friend?” Omega asks.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Echo leads them away from the shops and docks, and over to a row of apartments. He scans the buildings for a moment, before he turns and heads to one of the smaller buildings, and he stops in front of a plain door, with flower boxes in the windows.

His lips curl up in a small smile, Fives made those flower boxes early one morning when he was hyped up on Caf. They were crooked and lopsided, but it looks like she kept them. Though it looks like she painted them. “Wait here.” Echo says to his siblings, before he walks over to the door, and he knocks twice.

“Just a moment!” Her voice comes from the other side of the door, and Echo doesn’t fight his smile.

She sounds exactly the same. 

Stars, please don’t let her be too mad.

The door slides open, “Yes? Can I help yo-” She stops mid-sentence when she sees who’s standing there, “...Echo?”

“You grew your hair out,” Echo replies, a small smile lifting his lips, “It looks good. You look amazing. I’m sure you have a question or twenty, cyar’ika-”

Echo’s not able to finish his sentence as she flings her arms around him and crashes her lips against his. His arms fold tightly around her and he immediately kisses her back, and it’s almost as if no time has passed at all. 

If he focuses, he can almost hear Fives wolf-whistling and hear Cutup making lewd comments.

And then reality snaps back into place when he hears Tech’s dry voice, “Ah. That kind of friend.”

Echo carefully pulls back, and reaches up to gently cup her cheek, using his thumb to brush a tear away, “I’m sorry for not comming you, cyar’ika.”

She shakes her head, “We were told that you died.” She whispers, “Fives said…” She trailed off, “And then Fives died, and, kriff, the death of the last Domino started a war between the pirates of Rishi and the Republic/Empire, why would you bring them here?”

“Our ship is damaged-” Echo started.

“Get in. In. All of you!” She drags Echo into her home, and she doesn’t shut the door until Hunter is in the apartment as well. “Honestly Echo,” She rounds on him, “If you commed I would have told you to go literally anywhere else.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d answer.” Echo replies.

There are pictures of her with Echo, and with the rest of the dominoes on the walls. There are also pictures of her with a large, scarred man. And of her with a too slender woman.

“What do you need? I can probably get most of the materials sent to your ship.” She says.

“I have a list.” Tech offers as he hands her his datapad.

She copies it and sends the list to several of her friends, “Alright, you should have most, if not all, of what you need by the morning.”

“Are we in danger here?”

“On Rishi specifically? No. Not so long as you don’t draw attention to yourself.” She replies, “I’d offer to let you spend the night, but I don’t have much room.”

“We can stay on the ship,” Tech replies.

“Echo, are you going to stay here?” Omega asks.

Echo doesn’t take his gaze off of his cyar’ika, “If I’m allowed?”

“I’ve never turned you away before.” She counters.

Echo smiles at her, “Do you remember the way back to the docks?”

“I remember.” Tech says, “Come on.”

The door opens, and then closes again, leaving Echo alone with his cyar’ika.

She smiles at him, soft and warm and slow, “You used to be shyer about public displays of affection.”

“I used to have legs and two hands too,” Echo replies, it's a weak joke, but a joke all the same. “I’m so sorry I never commed you.” He says after a moment, “I thought…it felt cruel, reaching out to you when I couldn’t actually touch you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“Echo. I forgive you.” She walks over to him and she kisses him as if no time has passed at all, all loving and soft and sweet.

She’s always been unfairly tempting. Her lips and her touch encourage him to stay and enjoy what she’s offering. And Echo has always been helpless to deny her. 

He’s not surprised when he falls into her bed, her lips needy against his.

Later, much later, they’re lounging in her bed, and Echo is trailing his lips across her bare shoulder.

“Cyar’ika,” He murmurs against her shoulder, “Come with me.”

“Come with you where?” She asks, her voice light and dreamy.

“On the Marauder. Away from Rishi. I’ll protect you-”

She turns and looks at him, her smile so sad, “You know I can’t.”

“You deserve so much better than being a slave for your parents' debts,” Echo whispers.

She rolls so that she’s facing him properly, “Echo, your brothers don’t know me. And if I had to guess, your ship is pretty small. Me going with you isn’t fair to them.”

“You deserve more.” Echo repeats.

“I don’t like life is about what we deserve,” She replies, as she reaches up to cup his face, “So, in the morning, you’re going to return to your ship, to your brothers…and you’re going to leave Rishi. And you’re going to go back to not comming me, and it’s just how it’s going to be.”

“No.”

“Echo.” She sighs his name, and he shifts so he’s looking right in her eyes.

“No.” He repeats, “I’ve given up so much. My body, my batchmates, my twin. I’m not giving you up. Let me be greedy. Just about this one thing.”

She sighs again, but she looks touched. “How about…a deal?”

“What kind of deal?”

“My contract with my…owner is coming to an end. At the end of the year, I’ll have made enough to pay off my parents' tab with him.” She says softly, “On that day, I will comm you and come to where you are. No matter where you might be.”

“Do you promise?”

She laughs softly, “Echo, I’ve been dreaming of forever with you since the first day we met. Now that I have the chance to have it, it would take an act of god to stop me.”

Echo crashes his lips against hers, “I want forever too,” He breathes against her lips, “So we have a deal.”

She smiles at him, “I love you, Echo.”

He blinks at her, momentarily surprised, and then he laughs and kisses her deeply, “I love you too.”

[brokebonewritings]

Goodnight Starlight

Marc Spector x Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+, Smut, Fluff

Summary: You spy on Marc putting your little one to sleep for the night. Both of you get a little carried away when you get back to your own bedroom. Set a few years after the events of When the World Caves In.

Word Count: 1.5K

Navigation || When the World Caves In

Creeping up the stairs, you hear a soft voice humming from the nursery. Knowing it’s your husband performing his usual routine for your newest addition to the family. 

You kneel by the door to listen to Marc serenade your little girl. While you were pregnant he would sing to her long before he knew she could hear. His voice was soothing, not just to her but you too. You loved when Marc sang. It was a hidden soft talent behind all that rough exterior.

Closing your eyes, Marc began to sing his favorite Lullaby. Of course it wasn’t truly a lullaby but that didn't stop him from singing it as one. Blackbird by The Beatles. It was lovely and he would mix it with Yesterday. A very beautiful rendition of the song. 

However it made you feel like you heard him sing it to you before. Though he swears he hasn’t. You met him a few years prior in a coffee shop. Everything had just felt so easy with him, with all of them.

His steel face melted after your first date. Even when you moved to London with him a year later, and met Steven and Jake shortly after. He always brightened when he saw you.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when he began to speak normally

“Can I tell you a secret, my love?” He whispers.

You looked up expecting to see him looking at you, but he was in the rocking chair talking to your baby.

“I got to fall in love with your mama over again, and you know what?” He pauses to kiss her head. “I wouldn’t change that for anything else.” 

Tears pricking your eyes, you stand up and slowly open the door. He looks up from the little girl in his arms and smiles softly.

“There’s my sunlight.” It was Steven’s voice. You giggled and you moved closer. Hands resting in a crossed position. 

“And there’s my moon and starlight.” You step over to check your sleeping girl. “Looks like she has counted her constellations.”

“Yeah, though I wish I was able to count them with her.” He said before standing.

You smile at him reassuringly. "You'll have plenty of time to do that, Marc. She's still so young."

He nods, but you can see the sadness in his eyes. You know he's been struggling with adjusting to fatherhood, even though he loves his daughter more than anything in the world.

"I just want to be the best dad I can be," he says quietly.

"You already are," you reply, placing a hand on his arm. "You're amazing with her."

He leans down to kiss your forehead, and you feel a rush of love for this man who has always been there for you, even through the toughest times.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too," you say, wrapping your arms around him.

You stay like that for a few moments, holding each other close

Suddenly, you feel Marc's hand slip down to your lower back, pulling you closer to him. His lips find yours, and you melt into the kiss.

You both forget about the baby in his arms, and the world around you fades away. This was your moment, your time to reconnect and solidify your love for one another.

Breaking the kiss, Marc whispers in your ear, "Let's put the baby down and continue this in our bedroom."

A shiver runs down your spine, and you nod in agreement. You both carefully place the baby in her crib, making sure she's comfortable before tiptoeing out of the room, hand in hand.

Once you're in your bedroom, Marc pulls you into a deep, passionate kiss. You feel his hands roaming your body, and you can't help but moan softly.

You and Marc undress each other, your bodies pressing together as you explore each other's skin. His hands find their way to your breasts, squeezing them gently as he kisses down your neck.

You let out a gasp as he takes a nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it before moving to the other breast. Your hands tangle in his hair, holding him close as you feel yourself growing wet with desire.

Marc's hand travels down to your pussy, stroking your clit as he kisses his way down your abdomen. You moan his name as he licks your wetness, his tongue flicking over your clit in a way that has you seeing stars.

You pull him up to you, hungrily kissing him as you feel his cock pressing against your entrance. He enters you slowly, savoring the feeling of your tightness around him.

You both move together, your bodies perfectly in sync as you reach a euphoric high. With a final thrust, you're both tumbling over the edge, coming together as one.

Being together is what first brought you here, and as you look into Marc’s eyes, you're certain it'll be what keeps you together for the rest of your lives. Marc collapses on the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you try to catch your breath.

You lay in his arms, listening to his heartbeat slow and fall back into a normal rhythm. 

You get up to go to the bathroom, but Marc grabs your wrist, pulling you back to the bed. Turning your head back, you see his facial features had softened. Steven. Hands travel over your body, running down your sides before stopping at your hips. You feel him hardening again, thrusting against your ass.

“Why don’t you just stay right there, love.” Steven whispers in your ear.

Laying back on the bed, Steven still behind you. He slides into you again, your body rocking against him as he thrusts in and out of you. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him as he kisses the back of your neck. He whispers in your ear, telling you how gorgeous you are.

If he could, he'd stay inside of you forever, loving you every single day. You find yourself saying the same thing. How much you love him. How there is nowhere else you would rather be.

You feel your orgasm building, and you know you are close to finally achieving your peak. Steven kisses your shoulder before biting it. That sends you over the edge, and you both moan together . 

"Anyone else?" You say jokingly. Hearing a small breathy chuckle escape the man behind you, you turn your head. Just before you could fully turn your head, his hand slid up to grab your chin. 

"Corazon, you know I am a patient man." Jake growls against your ear.

Squealing as he flips the both of you, Jake peppers your face with hungry kisses. Spreading your legs to take in his gorgeous cock. You feel him enter you again, and you moan into his mouth. Slow, deep thrusts, filling you up and making you moan as you feel yourself tighten around him.

His cock throbs as he watches your body react to his movements. He lifts you into a sitting position, wrapping your legs around his waist before picking up his pace. Slamming his mouth into yours before pulling up to look you in the eyes.

“Te amo,” he whispers before kissing you again. "Siempre te amo."

"I, I love you too." you moan, "I love you all so much."

Jake’s thrusts are becoming harder, faster as you feel your body begin to shake. Tangling your fingers into his hair, you pull him into a kiss. Your mouths open and wet, sloppy and hungry for each other. You both moan as you come together, and you collapse on the bed. As he comes down from his high, Jake pulls out of you, curling into your side.

His arms wrap around you and bring you in close. You are in love with the three men, and you couldn’t feel more complete. Couldn’t feel more whole.

"I forgot how much stamina you all had." You giggled. He smiles against your hair.

"Amore, you have no idea." Jake responds. Kissing your cheek as you snuggle together. 

In all honesty, you could have stayed like that all night. However there was just one little thing you had forgotten about. 

A cry interrupts your thoughts. The baby. A little piece of the both of you. Your husband begins to get up, but you were quicker than that. Pushing his chest, he smiles as you lean down to kiss him one final time.

"I got her. You stay and rest, my moon."

"Sunshine, those are the sexiest words you have ever said." Marc's voice responds

You smile, climb off the bed and throw your satin robe on. This life you had with Marc was easy, and you couldn't be more grateful. Turning back one last time, your eyes linger on his chest rising and falling. He was alive. Not part of your imagination. 

You, your Moon, and your Starlight. All Alive.

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part sixty-eight: "The Sleepover"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your sister asks a last minute favor for you to watch your nephew overnight.

Or Hudson, you, and a special guest make brownies.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.4k

a/n: Getting some more of these transferred over from AO3 and I'm almost caught up! This is a fluffy installment where Reader and her nephew make brownies with...someone special. The entire list of installments for this series can be found here. I'll start a tag list once I've caught up to AO3 so if you're interested let me know in a comment (I know I've already gotten asked about it so I'm slowly adding names)!

Swinging your apartment door open, Amber greeted you with a look of relief and gratitude. Beside her stood Hudson, his dinosaur backpack slung over his navy blue winter coat. He was beaming up at you and you couldn’t fight the large smile making its way onto your own face.

“Thank you so unbelievably much,” Amber gushed instantly. “And I am incredibly sorry to bother you so last minute like this, really. I owe you big time.”

You shrugged a shoulder in response. “It’s really not a big deal,” you assured your sister. “I love spending time with my favorite nephew and it’s been awhile since we’ve had a sleepover. Hasn’t it, Huds?” you asked, attention focusing down to your nephew.

“Right!” he agreed quickly. “Is Uncle Matt going to be here?”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so, Huds,” you answered him awkwardly. 

You figured Matt would realize you weren’t alone in your apartment tonight when he stopped by, probably hearing Hudson before heading home where he would inevitably find the message you’d left on his normal not vigilante phone about Amber needing you to watch Hudson last minute overnight. You knew he’d entirely understand that you’d be unavailable this evening.

“How’re things going with him after the breakup?” Amber asked, catching your attention. “Still doing good?”

You nodded quickly. “Oh, yeah. Things are great between us,” you told her with a smile.

“Mmm,” she hummed out, eyes narrowing. “I’ll punch him in that handsome face if he hurts you again, though.”

“Amber, it was a…misunderstanding of sorts that got vastly blown out of proportion,” you told her, aware of how much of an oversimplification that was, “and we’re good.”

“I’m just saying,” she continued, “I haven’t forgotten all those nights you were crying on my couch downing an entire bottle of wine on your own. I just don’t want to see you like that again.”

“Point taken,” you told her. “Now don’t you have to be at the office?”

Amber expelled a deep sigh before she nodded. “Yeah, I should probably get back before Hogarth gets pissed. Leave it to her billionaire golden boy to somehow need help late on a Friday night.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be telling me that,” you pointed out.

“Right,” she agreed, pulling a face. “Forget I said that.” 

She turned, lowering down to Hudson’s height as she held her arms out. Hudson threw his arms around her, immediately hugging his mom tightly.

“You be good for your aunt,” Amber told him. “She’s doing mommy a big favor tonight so let’s not be a troublemaker, okay?”

“Okay,” Hudson answered.

“I’ll see you in the morning, buddy,” she said, kissing his head. “I love you. And be good , please.”

“Love you, too, momma!” Hudson replied.

Amber rose to her feet as Hudson bolted straight towards you, wrapping your left leg in an excited hug that almost knocked you off your feet. Amber shot him a sad smile before her attention shifted back to you.

“Thank you, really,” she repeated. “Just…make sure he gets to sleep and eats breakfast and I’ll be happy. I already know you’re the fun one and he’s going to do some things he usually doesn’t get to at home.”

“It’s because I’m not his mom,” you reminded her. “I don’t do the disciplining part. I do the fun activities part.”

"I'll see you tomorrow, Hudson," your sister said, shooting him a quick wave.

Amber mouthed one last 'thank you' before turning and heading down your hall towards the elevator. You closed the door and turned, spotting Hudson slipping his dinosaur backpack off onto your couch.

“You want help with your coat and shoes, Huds?” you asked, making your way over to him.

He nodded enthusiastically, patiently waiting for you to help him out of everything. Afterwards, you headed back to your door, hanging his coat and putting his shoes by yours. Turning around, you sent Hudson a large grin that he quickly mirrored. 

“Your mom said you already had dinner,” you began, Hudson nodding in response. “So would you like to help me make some brownies?”

His eyes widened, lighting up excitedly as he bounced from foot to foot. “Yes! Can we make them now? Please?” he begged.

“Absolutely,” you told him. “You want to help me get the stool out of my closet so you can wash your hands first?”

Hudson didn’t answer, instead he booked it out of your living room and down the hall, heading straight to your bedroom closet. You laughed, shaking your head as you followed after him. When you entered your room, you saw him already struggling to pull the stool out of the closet with his little arms. Before you could offer help, he was already hoisting it up and shooting you a proud smile. You waved him out of your room with a smile of your own, watching as he carried the stool down your hallway. You followed slowly behind, amused at how cute he looked holding onto something half his size. 

“Alright," you began, "first we’re going to wash up and–”

“ Daredevil !” Hudson shrieked, dropping the stool to the floor of your living room and cutting you clean off.

Eyes widening in horror, you turned to your left. Sure enough Matt was crouched at your window dressed as Daredevil. His mouth was hanging wide open, his fist still raised from where he must have been knocking against it. Hudson sprinted towards the window, immediately struggling to open it.

“Hudson we probably shouldn’t be opening the window to strangers, don’t think your mom would approve of that,” you said, your eyes on Matt.

“He’s not a stranger, he’s a superhero!” Hudson called over his shoulder. “I didn’t know you knew him, auntie!”

“What the hell, Matt,” you awkwardly sing-songed under your breath knowing he could hear you.

Out on your fire escape, Matt’s mouth tugged into a sheepish grin as his hand fell back to his side. With a sigh you made your way over to the window and lifted it up.

“I don’t exactly know him,” you corrected Hudson, pulling him away so Matt could climb in. “He uh, just was helping me with something for work.” Your focus shifted back to Matt as he closed the window behind himself. “And he shouldn’t have stopped by while I was watching my nephew,” you said through a forced smile.

Matt huffed out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. “I wasn’t quite paying attention,” he admitted. “I didn’t realize you weren’t alone.”

“That’s okay!” Hudson said excitedly. “You’re my favorite superhero! I’m going to tell momma I met you!”

“No!” you and Matt both shouted simultaneously.

The smile fell off of Hudson’s face as he looked up at you curiously. You licked your lips nervously, eyes briefly darting over to Matt. He was wringing his gloved hands, clearly nervous. Okay, so it was on you to come up with a fast lie. Great.

“You can’t tell your mom you met him,” you said slowly, kneeling down in front of him, “because uh…he’s helping me with something super secret for work, okay? It involves some…really bad guys and it wouldn’t be safe for me or Daredevil if they knew he was helping me. So can you keep this a secret?”

“Hmmm,” Hudson hummed out, his focus shifting back towards Matt, a slow smile forming on his mouth. “Okay,” he said with a nod. “Can he make brownies with us?”

You sat there kneeling on the floor, blinking rapidly a few times. “You…want Daredevil to stay and make brownies with us?” you asked him slowly.

“Yeah,” he answered, a little pout on his face. “I might not see him again.” Quickly Hudson’s hands flew out and grabbed onto your shoulders, taking you by surprise. “Please, auntie? Can he stay, please? Please?”

Your mouth fell open, eyes widening as you continued to kneel there on the floor entirely dumbstruck. “I, uh, well, Huds, uhm–”

“I can stay and make brownies,” Matt answered.

He had intentionally pitched his voice lower and you bit your lip, trying to hold back a laugh. He sounded absolutely ridiculous talking about making brownies in the same gruff voice he used to threaten breaking bones with criminals.

“But if I do,” Matt added, “I need you to keep my secret. Can you do that?”

“Okay!” Hudson said, releasing his hold on your shoulders and bouncing up and down.

Slowly your head turned towards Matt, a hand flying up to try to cover your laugh. “You’re uh, you’re going to stay and make brownies then, Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?” you teased. “With a three year old?”

Matt shrugged a shoulder, a grin slipping onto his face. “I do serve the people of Hell’s Kitchen when they need help,” Matt answered. He gestured a gloved hand at Hudson. “And this young man is clearly in need of some brownies.”

You bit down hard on your lip, eyes closing as you refrained from letting out a snort of amusement. “Hudson,” you began, fighting to keep your voice even, “I’m going to put on some cartoons, okay?” You opened your eyes, glancing over at your nephew. “Can you sit and watch them for me while I go over some uh, work things with Ma–uh Mr. Daredevil?”

“And then he’ll make brownies with us?” Hudson asked, wide eyes staring hopefully up at you.

You cleared your throat, nodding slowly as you rose back to your feet. “Yeah, I suppose he will,” you sighed.

Hudson grinned, running over to the couch and hopping up onto it. You turned, shooting Matt a pointed look.

“You go wait in my room,” you ordered him in a hushed tone.

Matt’s mouth curled into a smirk as he nodded at you. “Yes, ma’am,” he answered.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes as you made your way into the living room. Taking a minute, you turned on the television to some cartoons and begged Hudson to give you a few minutes to talk to Daredevil. When he was clearly enraptured with some cartoon dogs, you headed back towards your bedroom where Matt was leaning against your dresser.

“What the hell, Matt?” you whispered. “My nephew is here!”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I sort of gathered that by this point.”

“Well didn’t you pick up on him here in my apartment with your Fancy Devil senses before you came knocking on my living room window?” you asked.

“Clearly not,” he answered. “I was admittedly a little tired from today. I wasn’t paying that close of attention. I’m sorry.”

You sighed, running a hand over your forehead. “It’s fine, I just hope he really does keep this a secret. I mean he is only three.”

“There’s not much to do about it now,” Matt said. “Hopefully his love of Daredevil will have him wanting to keep the secret for now.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” you agreed. “Because I don’t really think you’re planning to tell my sister anytime soon about your extracurricular activities.” 

“Not really,” he agreed. Pushing off of the dresser, he made his way towards you. “Come here, sweetheart.”

“Well I should–”

“He’s entranced by whatever cartoon is on, I promise,” Matt assured you.

You nodded, crossing the distance between the two of you. Matt’s gloved hand reached out, tenderly gripping your chin and lifting your face towards his. You couldn’t fight back the smile growing on your lips despite the situation.

“Hi,” you whispered.

He huffed out a laugh, a grin forming on his own mouth. “Hi, sweetheart,” he responded just as quietly.

Leaning towards you, Matt connected his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. Your hands rose to his chest, bracing yourself against him. Soon you were pulling away, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face against his chest. Matt’s own arms encircled you, his face burrowing against you in return.

“Missed you today,” Matt murmured into your shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” you whispered. 

With a sigh you reluctantly stepped back, knowing you couldn’t leave Hudson out in the living room much longer. Matt released you as well, his head shifting to the side as he focused on you through the red lenses of his mask.

“So are you really going to help me and Hudson make a boxed brownie mix dressed in the full ensemble?” you asked him, waving a hand at his suit.

Matt grinned in response. “Only if you call me Mr. Daredevil again,” he teased.

You playfully swatted his chest, the gesture causing Matt to laugh. "I'm serious, because you're going to have to keep up the charade that you're not Uncle Matt," you told him.

"You know, I quite missed him calling me that," Matt said, head canting to the side.

" Matt ," you chided.

He grinned again at you, clearly enjoying pushing your buttons. 

"If you get me a glass of water so I can keep up the voice I'll do my best, but–" Matt said, raising a finger and tapping you gently on the nose, your eyes narrowing in response, "–you're going to have to keep your hands to yourself."

"Keep it up and Mr. Daredevil is going to have a new foe to fight tonight," you quipped back. 

Matt made a noise in his throat that sounded almost like a pleased purr. "Now that sounds fun," he whispered. 

"There's a three year old on my couch right now, Matt," you reminded him. "And I'm going to head back out there and get started on the brownies now. Behave yourself, Devil."

He smirked, nodding as you turned to leave. But you stopped in the threshold when he spoke again. 

"Yes, ma'am."

You shifted your head over your shoulder, shooting Matt a stern look. "You stop that, Matthew."

He chuckled as he made his way out of your bedroom, pausing when he neared you. He leaned down, his left hand resting on your lower back as he whispered into your ear, "Why would I stop when it's clear how much you like it?"

Your jaw dropped, your eyes following him as he made his way back down your hallway to the living room. He glanced over his shoulder at you, shooting you a cocky smile as he walked away. 

“Ass,” you muttered, heat rising to your cheeks.

Heading over towards Hudson who was still enthralled with the cartoons, you passed Matt and heard a deep chuckle come from him as you did. Choosing to ignore it, you focused on Hudson.

“Ready to make those brownies?” you asked him.

Hudson scooted off the edge of the couch, nodding his head excitedly. His focus shifted on Matt still dressed fully as Daredevil beside you. Somehow his smile widened even further.

“Alright, bring the stool over to the sink and wash your hands first,” you told him. As Hudson darted off to pick up the stool, you shot Matt a look. “You too, Devil. Take the gloves off and wash your hands. I don’t want…whatever might be on them in the brownies.”

Matt’s tongue slipped out between his lips, your eyes following the movement as the soft flesh slickened with his saliva. His mouth pulled up into a devilish grin that had your hand momentarily pausing in its reach for the television remote.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered back.

Your teeth grit together as your hand wrapped tightly around the remote, eyes narrowing back at Matt. He wasn’t wrong. That was certainly starting to do something to you, but now was really not the time nor the place for Matt to be teasing you like this. Especially because he couldn’t stay the night with Hudson over.

“Matt,” you whispered his name in warning.

That grin was still on his face as he raised his hands, slowly undoing his gloves. “What?” he asked innocently. “I’m just trying to be respectful.”

“Keep it up,” you playfully threatened him.

His head tilted to the side as he watched you in amusement, his hands still undoing his gloves. Behind him in the kitchen you heard the sink turn on and you spotted Hudson washing his hands. 

“Keep it up and what?” Matt pressed.

Your eyes slid back towards Matt. Setting your jaw firm and feeling emboldened by his flirting, you walked over to him and gently placed a hand along his abdomen as you leaned in and whispered, “Keep it up and you’ll end up in your shower tonight wishing you’d behaved, Devil,” you whispered.

Your hand gradually slipped downwards until your fingertips were almost touching him through his suit. Something like a grunt fell out of Matt, his nostrils flaring. That devilish grin on his mouth faded as his lips pulled into a tight line. Your hand returned to your side as you made your way towards the kitchen feeling pleased with yourself. You certainly missed having an effect on him.

“Wash your hands, Devil,” you called back over your shoulder.

Entering the kitchen, you helped Hudson finish washing his own hands before you washed yours. You noticed it had taken Matt a moment to recover before he’d made his way back into the kitchen, pausing beside you at the sink. You couldn’t fight the triumphant smirk on your mouth as you moved out of his way, letting him wash his hands next as you reached up into a cabinet nearby, grabbing him a glass for water. You waited for him to finish washing his hands before you filled it up and handed it to him. Meanwhile, Hudson had been excitedly moving the stool over towards your open counter space and curiously examining the boxed brownie mix you had out.

"Okay, so we need a bowl," you said, walking around your kitchen and bending down to a lower cabinet to pull out a large bowl. With it in hand, you walked back to the counter Hudson and Matt were both now standing at, Hudson on his stool. "You think you can handle pouring the dry brownie mix into the bowl with Hudson, Devil?" 

"You really think I can't handle that?" he asked back. 

Turning, you made your way over to the oven. "What do you think, Huds?" you asked over your shoulder as you began to preheat the oven. "You think Daredevil knows how to bake?"

"Yeah!" Hudson shouted. 

Finishing setting the temperature on the oven, you turned back around and immediately paused, your eyes taking in the sight before you. Matt was letting Hudson tear the box open, a large smile spread across his face. Hudson was giggling hysterically as he brutalized the box with his little hands before Matt pulled out the bag from inside that held the dry ingredients. You couldn’t hold back the smile on your face as you watched him help Hudson open the bag next. It was strange but also incredibly beautiful watching your nephew bake brownies with his hero, and simultaneously watching Matt as Daredevil using the same hands he punished criminals with helping Hudson carefully pour the dry brownie mixture into a bowl. 

It was in that moment, watching Matt with Hudson as you continued to openly stare by the oven, that the full realization hit you. You wanted Matt. You wanted to marry him and spend the rest of your life with him, but you also realized something else. You wanted a family. And you wanted it with him . You felt your eyes suddenly prick with tears as a strong wave of emotion hit you at the thought of Matt smiling and talking to your pregnant belly, those big hands cradling your baby bump. Or those same hands gently burping a baby over his shoulder as he rocked them back and forth. That deep rumble of his gently shushing a crying baby as he held them safe in those big protective, strong arms of his.

Matt's head abruptly spun in your direction, the smile on his face briefly dulling to something that seemed curious and questioning. No doubt confused about the conflicting emotions your body must have been displaying to him. You blinked hard a few times, trying to fight back the tears that hadn't fallen yet.

"We need eggs!" Hudson shouted.

You cleared your throat, nodding your head as you made your way to the fridge. "Yes, you're right," you said, trying to keep your voice even. "How many Hudson?"

"Two!" he proudly answered. 

"Two eggs it is," you said.

Trying to gain control over your emotions, you opened the fridge door. As you were opening the egg carton and grabbing the eggs, you couldn't help but listen in to the conversation behind you. 

"You remind me of Uncle Matt," Hudson was saying. 

"Oh?" Matt asked, his tone cautious.

"Yeah. I want to bake brownies with him, too," Hudson said. 

Turning around with the eggs in your hands, you saw the bright smile sliding across Matt's face under his mask. The sight only further melted you.

"I'm sure he'd love to if you asked him," Matt replied. 

"He likes dinosaurs," Hudson continued on. "He said his favorite is a brontosaurus."

"Did he?" Matt asked.

Walking back to the pair or them, you set one of the eggs beside the bowl. “You want to help me crack these, Huds?” you asked.

Hudson reached out, grabbing onto the back of your hand as you cracked the egg on the edge of the bowl. He helped you pour the egg inside before letting go of your hand as you reached over, tossing the shell in the garbage before picking up the other. Once again his little hand was holding onto the back of yours as he helped you crack the egg.

“Do you like dinosaurs?” Hudson asked Daredevil.

“I do,” he replied in his gruff tone.

You bit your lip hard, fighting down the laugh. You were certain Matt’s throat would be aching after tonight from continually talking like that. Though as you made your way back to the sink to wash your hands, you could feel a happy warmth blossoming in your chest as Matt continued to chat with Hudson about dinosaurs in the full Daredevil suit. He had to be sweating under that thing. 

Walking back over to the counter as the two continued chatting, you picked up the box. You couldn’t resist the snort of amusement that escaped you at how decimated the top of the box was. Matt’s head shifted in your direction at the sound and you caught the little smile he flashed at you in response. His attention quickly returned to Hudson as you noticed you still needed the vegetable oil.

You made your way over to a drawer, pulling out the right measuring spoon. Afterwards, you made your way over to a cabinet just beside Matt and opened it. Carefully you reached up to pull out the vegetable oil, but your hand bumped the container of olive oil and it went tumbling off of the shelf. Before you could blink, Matt’s hand darted out beside you, catching the bottle of olive oil seconds later. You stood there with your mouth hanging open for a moment. On the other side of Matt, Hudson’s eyes grew wide.

“ Cool !” he squealed.

Recovering, you accepted the bottle from Matt, muttering a ‘thank you’ as you did before you placed it back in the cabinet. With the vegetable oil in hand, you made your way back to the bowl that Hudson had been helping Matt mix.

“Can Daredevil stay and have brownies?” Hudson asked.

“Uh, Huds, you know it takes about a half an hour for these to bake,” you told him, carefully measuring out the vegetable oil.

“Please?” Hudson begged.

With a sigh, you poured the vegetable oil into the bowl before glancing at Matt beside you. He was looking at you through the red lenses of the mask, his lips quirked up on one corner as his head tilted curiously to the side.

“Maybe you should ask Daredevil,” you suggested. “He is usually busy.”

Hudson’s big, pleading eyes turned to Matt beside you. He was fortunate he couldn’t see the look on the three year old’s face because it was a look you often couldn’t say no to.

“Please stay for brownies?” he asked, his lip pushing out in a pout.

“After all our hard work?” Matt asked. “How could I not stay to eat them?”

Hudson began bouncing excitedly on the stool, expelling a loud, pleased squeal. Matt let out a laugh in response as he continued to mix the batter.

“Well Mr. Daredevil ,” you said, heading to a cabinet and pulling out a pan to bake the brownies in, “I’m assuming you haven’t eaten dinner yet, have you?”

Matt’s attention turned towards you, a little grin forming on his mouth. “I can’t say that I have, ma’am ,” he answered.

You pursed your lips, shooting him a pointed look you knew he could feel. “While these are baking, would you like some leftover pesto pasta?” you asked, grabbing the can of cooking spray from your counter to spray the pan with. “Because I can’t have you setting a poor example for Huds and eating dessert for dinner.”

“Well now, we certainly can’t have that,” he agreed. “Thank you.”

“Someone’s got to make sure the neighborhood vigilante stays fed,” you joked, spraying the pan with cooking spray. “I’ll heat some up once I get these in the oven.”

As the oven beeped behind you, letting you know it had reached temperature, your eyes lingered on Matt and Hudson. Matt’s large, ungloved hands were holding the bowl as Hudson was trying to stir the sticky mixture, once again babbling on about dinosaurs as Matt listened with an enraptured interest. 

Somehow watching Matt interacting so well with your nephew tonight, despite being dressed in his Daredevil suit, was also doing something to you. Whether it was that 'baby fever' women often joked about finally kicking in or something else, you weren’t sure. But what you were sure of was that the next moment you had Matt alone after this, you were certainly going to repay him for his kindness to your nephew. And you found yourself suddenly really, really looking forward to that.

Matt’s attention snapped towards you instantly, his head canting curiously to the side as Hudson beside him continued on with his chattering as he stirred the brownie batter. You were sure Matt had just picked up on the hint of your arousal. You only smiled slowly before shooting him a wink yourself, the gesture drawing a slow smirk onto his lips in return.