#i think next time i'm super anxious

[sunsburns]

good luck, babe!

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader x patrick zweig x art donaldson

summary: patrick zwieg invites tashi duncan and art donaldson to join him at your engagement party. you think they came to celebrate you and your new chapter and put the past behind you, rebuilding lost friendships, but tashi hopes to stop you from marrying a man you never wanted.

—or: the trio crashes your engagement party

word count: 10k+ (i have a serious problem)

contains: SMUT 18+, smut with a lot of plot, post-challengers movie, fluff & comfort, angst, tashi’s pov but lowkey get's mixed up around the end, foursome, oral (fem receiving), oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sed (wrap it before yall tap it), homewrecking, cheating but also not cheating but also a worse third thing, three-way make out, four-way make out, dom!tashi, patrick being nasty, art being a loser, no use of y/n, situationship that lasts 13 years.

author’s note: this fic is based on this request with inspo from the greatest song on earth: good luck, babe! it was supposed to be a quick smut blurb but at this point, you all know i can’t write smut without some kind of angsty plot. everyone is super messy and there is some of the dirtiest smut i’ve written so far (it’s only going to get worse from here). this one is a roller coaster.

It didn't make sense to any of them, how you could've possibly ended up with him. 

Tashi remembered him from Stanford vividly. He came from a white-collared family, with daddy's money that bought him everything he could've ever asked for, yet he still wanted more. He played golf and polo and even dabbled with tennis but never had enough guts or skill to take it seriously. But his dad funded most of the programs and events at the school, so everyone had known him, his charm, his family, and his inability to stick to one thing even outside of sports. He clung onto a new girl every other week, a new girl wrapped around his finger only to be ultimately tossed aside like the rest of them.

"What a dick," Tashi remembered you saying once, stabbing your fork into your salad while glaring daggers at him from across the cafeteria as he bragged loudly to his fan club about how he beat you in a game of tennis. 

Which he didn't. 

You let him win. 

His parents had been paying you to coach him, paid you extra every time you let him win a set or two against you, even if it was off the record. God knows you needed the money.

"I think I'm gonna quit." You said, turning back to glance at Tashi.

"About damn time," she snickered, shaking her head. "I told you you're wasting your time with him when you could be doing something better. Like training with me."

You had rolled your eyes and poked her arm with your fork, "If I'm still trailing after him this time next week, shoot me in the head and put me out of my misery."

Almost thirteen years later, you're walking around with his ring on your finger at your engagement party. A party where your fiancé announced your upcoming retirement after a tennis career run that Tashi would’ve killed for: a six-time US Open winner; two-time gold medalist at the Olympics; and brand deals that would ensure you and the next four generations of your family lived happily under your trust fund.

Clearly, you weren't marrying him for his money.

It made Tashi anxious, because, in some way, she could see that the marriage you will have with your fiancé is far too similar to how Tashi's would have been if she and Patrick stayed together. 

Okay, maybe that was a reach.

Or maybe it's how it would've been if neither of you had gone up to Art and Patrick's hotel room that night. Or maybe it would've been Tashi's ring on your finger instead.

She couldn't shake the bitter taste in her mouth as she watched you laugh with him, your eyes lighting up in the way they always did when you were truly happy. It used to be her who made you smile like that. She remembered the late-night practices, the shared victories, and the quiet moments shared in the comfort of her dorm room. She remembered the promises you both made and dreams of dominating the tennis world together.

But she shouldn't dwell on the past, she shouldn't think about what-ifs. At least that's what Art tells her with a hand on her shoulder. Tashi glances at his hand, noting the wedding band that rests on his finger. The squeeze he gives is meant to be reassuring, but instead, it feels suffocating.

"I'll never know how he bagged her," Patrick tuts from her other side, a drink already in his hand. He holds it close to his mouth, biting the rim of the glass before taking a swig, his eyes never leaving you. His gaze is shameless, tracing the way your dress hugs your curves, how your hair shines under the chandelier lights, and the way your lips move as you speak.

"Lucky, lucky man..." Patrick shakes his head, a bitter edge to his voice.

A waiter passes by, offering hors d'oeuvres, and Patrick takes enough for the three of them for himself, setting his empty glass on the platter. As he stuffs an appetizer in his mouth, he begins to walk away, his eyes fixed on you.

"Where do you think you're going?" Art asks, his hand slipping from Tashi's shoulder.

Patrick spins around, mouth full, and shrugs. "To congratulate the future bride."

Art and Tashi stand there, watching, almost dumbfounded when they see Patrick sneak up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you into the air. You shriek, champagne spilling from your glass, but once you see who it is, a wide smile breaks across your face.

"Patrick!" Tashi can hear you from across the hall. Patrick lifts you again, hoisting you into the air. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he spins you around, your laughter ringing out—a sweet melody that draws the attention of everyone nearby. "You made it!"

Tashi feels a pang of surprise. 

You and Patrick had been in closer contact than she imagined. It stings, a reminder of the distance that had grown between you after her injury, much like the distance that had grown between Art and Patrick. She never knew you had turned to Patrick for comfort. Though it made sense—Patrick was the one you invited, not her, not Art. Patrick was the one who had to ask if he could bring two guests instead of the traditional plus-one. 

But surely, you must have known that if you invited Patrick, Tashi and Art would come too, right? 

Right? 

The question churns a pit of dread in her stomach as Art starts to lead her closer to you out of courtesy.

Patrick's arms are wrapped tightly around your torso, his hand resting too low to be innocent, but you seem happy nonetheless. Happier in Patrick's arms than in the arms of your future husband. You embrace him close, the ring on your finger glimmering under the chandelier lights as you hold onto the back of his neck, your laughter finally subsiding as the spinning stops.

As Tashi and Art approach, the reality of the situation hits her harder. She's watching from the outside, a spectator to your happiness, feeling the sting of what could have been. She forces a smile; your engagement to the worst person in the world can't possibly be the thing that makes her break. Not after everything she's built since she started coaching.

Art tries to catch your eye, offering a polite smile once you let go of Patrick. "Hey."

"Hi," you say breathlessly, a bright smile across your face while Patrick swings his arm over your shoulder. You seem happy, almost relieved that Tashi and Art were here as if you doubted their attendance. "Wow, it's been so long. You guys look great."

"Thanks," Tashi finally says, the words weighing on her tongue like lead.

"You look beautiful," Art tells you, and it's rushed as if he's been trying to keep it to himself but couldn't help it once he was close enough to you.

Before you can get a word out, another arm wraps around your waist, discreetly pushing Patrick away from you to slide into your side. Patrick lets out an annoyed groan, stepping aside as your fiancé squeezes you tightly and says, "She does, doesn't she? Hey, killer."

You turn to him, about to say something, maybe greet him back, maybe introduce him to everyone. But he doesn't let you, he's leaning closer until his lips lock with yours. It takes you by surprise—you flinch at first before finally letting him kiss you properly, his hand cupping the back of your neck, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible.

Art lets out a low, awkward sigh while watching it happen before him, and Patrick rolls his eyes, stepping back in search of a waiter for another drink.

He holds onto you like you're a prize he's won. Almost as if he's been competing with everyone in the world to finally hold you and show you off. As if that's all you had to offer.

You blink, clearly embarrassed, as you clear your throat to disperse the awkward tension in the air. "These are some, uh," you stumble over your words before nodding towards Art, Tashi, and Patrick, "some old friends from college. I'm sure you remember—"

He's interrupting you again, reaching out with the hand that's not on you to shake Tashi's hand. He holds it tightly, his thumb pressing against her wedding ring. "Tashi Duncan, how could I ever forget? Still beautiful as ever."

She has to force herself to smile, for your sake. "Good to see you too—"

"You know," your fiancé starts, cutting her off, "I still remember the time you told me to suck a bag of dicks 'cause I took up your court time. Best day of my life."

"Yeah," Patrick laughs. He's found another glass of champagne to sip on, and it's by his lips when he says, "who doesn't love getting cussed out by Tashi."

You wince. "Patrick—"

"No, no. He's right. It's one out of a million. I took it as a compliement," your fiancé says, glancing at Tashi again, his eyes darting up and down, lingering on her wedding ring once more before she finally pulls her hand out of his grasp. He spots the arm Tashi has been clinging to. "Art Donaldson, I'm a big fan."

Art stiffens as if taken by surprise. "Really?"

Your fiancé is nodding, and when Art glances your way for a split second, he tugs you closer. "You're incredible. Watching you play, it's like, woah! He's killin' it out there. Too bad you've retired though, would've loved to see you play longer."

There's a faint redness to Art's face when he nods. "Oh, thank you."

"I've always wondered if I'd turn out the way you did if I stuck to tennis." Then he laughs, nudging your side. "If only this one put me to work like Tashi did to you, maybe we would've competed in the US Open a few times."

You snort and shake your head, the idea of watching the two of them even standing on the court together amusing you. "You couldn't beat Art if you tried."

Your fiancé shrugs. "Maybe Patrick."

"Stop kidding yourself. You can't even beat your nephew and he's twelve."

He hums, turning so that he'll face you. He holds your waist with both hands, caressing you gently. "You sure know your way into a man's heart, baby," he says lowly before kissing you again. It's rough and messy, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You shriek and press your hands against his chest. He doesn't let go immediately, peeking a glance towards the trio while kissing you.

Tashi feels a knot of disgust tightening in her stomach. The audacity of him to touch you like that in front of them, as if he’s marking his territory, sets her blood boiling just a little bit. God, did no one teach this guy any kind of etiquette?

She catches Art's expression out of the corner of her eye—his jaw is clenched as he turns to look away. Patrick's lips curl in a sneer, the glass in his hand trembling slightly. He fights the urge to throw it.

Your fiancé reaches down and gropes your ass over your silky white dress before finally separating from you.

You stand there, looking flushed and embarrassed, letting him whisper something in your ear before he walks off, joining a group of men who whistle and catcall at him as he nears them. Each jeer and hoot feels like a slap to the face.

"Uh, sorry," you apologize, unable to meet their eyes as you blindly wipe at your chin to fix your lipstick. "That was... I don't know what's gotten into him. He's not usually like this. He's, uh... he's great."

Patrick scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, real great."

Tashi can’t help but frown, her heart aching as she watches you fumble. "You can't possibly want to marry him," she wants to say, but the words get stuck in her throat. She can't bear to hear the answer, especially if it's the one she fears.

Art steps forward, his face a careful mask of neutrality. "If you’re happy," he says, but there's an edge to his tone, a challenge. The unspoken words hang heavily in the air: "Are you?"

You nod quickly, too quickly, as if trying to convince yourself as much as them. "Sure, sure. I mean, what’s not to be happy about? His family loves me. I'm retiring this year, and gonna spend more time with my family. Hopefully more time with some old friends?"

"Old friends?" Tashi repeats, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. The casual way you say it, as if years of distance and silence can be bridged with a few meetings, stings more than she cares to admit.

"Yeah, before I get busy with the baby."

"Baby?" Patrick's voice is sharp, almost disbelieving. "You’re pregnant?"

"What? No!" You quickly sputter, shaking your head. Then you pause, a thought crossing your mind and you lighten up a little bit, a hopeful smile gracing your face, "But I do want kids one day. I want three."

"Does he want kids?"

"We've talked about it, but he shuts it down all the time."

"You poor thing." Patrick puffs out, pinching your arm before reaching for your hand and leading you toward the bar. "Let's bring this conversation outside, ladies. I need a smoke. And you all need a drink stronger than his champagne."

The idea of fresh air and a strong drink is appealing. After grabbing a bottle of finely aged wine, the four of you make your way to the garden outside the grand hall. The shift from the stuffy indoor atmosphere to the cool night air is a relief. 

The moonlight casts a silvery glow over the meticulously maintained garden, illuminating the path with a soft, ethereal light. You glow in your pretty white dress, the fabric shimmering as you take a seat on a patch of grass near the rose bushes. The scent of roses mingles with the crisp night air, creating a tranquil yet poignant backdrop. You glance up at the three of them who stand there, watching you.

Tashi raises a brow as you take a long swig of the wine. She didn't remember you to be much of a drinker. 

"It's not that big of a deal," you say, passing her the bottle when she finally sits next to you. 

It's as if her movement had woken the two guys and then Art takes a seat on your other side while Patrick lies down on the grass a few feet away to light a cigarette. 

You pout, "If he doesn't want kids, then we won't have kids."

"But you want kids," Tashi reminds you, but it's more of a question as if she's wondering if that's truly what you want. Don't get her wrong, Tashi loves being a mother, she would kill anyone for Lily, but you wanting kids barely before confirming your retirement threw her off a little bit.

"Of course I do." You hiccup, reaching for the bottle again. "I'm not getting any younger. It's just... he'll come around."

"And if he doesn't?" Art asks, his voice gentle but probing.

"Can we not talk about that right now? I just want to get shitfaced and party."

"Now we're talkin'!" Patrick interjects, his grin wide as he takes a drag from his cigarette. The embers glow briefly in the dark.

"Come on, everybody gather." Patrick flicks his cigarette off to the rocky pathway and snags the bottle from Art's hands. He raises it, nodding at you with that same smirk he's had for years. Snarky, cocky, and yet endearing. "To celebrate new beginnings. Even if your future husband's a dick and can't make you cum nearly half as hard as I can. Good luck, babe."

The rest of you all make a noise of annoyance, rolling your eyes. "Seriously?"

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick," Art scoffs, though there's a faint smile tugging at his lips as you let a giggle slip out past your fake annoyance.

Patrick's smile only widens at the sound of his friends' protests. It reminds him of the good old years when his biggest worry was which shorts he'd wear to his next game. "Cheers!"

As the bottle is passed around, Tashi can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with bitterness. The comradery of the past clashes painfully with the reality of the present. Is this how things are going to be like now? Is this night a call for a truce, waving the white flag so that all of you could be friends again, now as adults, making plans for brunch and getting the kids together for birthday parties?

You take another sip from the bottle, your gaze drifting towards the moonlit sky. "To new beginnings," you repeat softly, though the hope in your voice is tinged with uncertainty.

Tashi leans back, her eyes lingering on you, a mix of longing and regret pooling in her heart. Art sits quietly beside her, lost in his thoughts, while Patrick’s laughter rings out, masking deeper sentiments beneath his forced cheerfulness. The chatter and music from the hall spill into the garden, the warm lights casting a golden glow over the scene. Patrick talks animatedly about the seasons he thinks he has left in him, and to Tashi's annoyance, you encourage him.

She shakes her head at the way Patrick's eyes light up, glancing at her with a knowing look. Despite her irritation, she can't deny the comfort of slipping back into their old dynamic.

Suddenly, Art hums thoughtfully. He has been mostly quiet, listening to the conversation with occasional quiet laughs. Now, as he puts down the empty bottle of wine, he looks at you, his eyes more alive than they have been in a long time. "I had a burger for the first time in years," he announces, a smile spreading across his face as if he is proud of it.

You gasp, perking up as you reach over to hold his hands. "How was it?"

"Amazing," Art says fondly, "like heaven inside a bun."

"You should've seen him," Tashi smirks, shoulder to shoulder with Patrick, playfully kicking Art. "He was drooling just looking at the menu."

He rolls his eyes, "I wasn't drooling." When you fall silent, he looks at you again, frowning. "You haven't had one in a while, have you?"

You shake your head, "No, I think the last time I had one was when we graduated."

Patrick scoffs, "Bullshit."

You laugh, "It's true! I've been very strict with my diet. And now that I've retired... I don't know..." You shrug, suddenly getting shy as Art starts tracing stars against the back of your hand. "There are so many options, I wouldn't know where to start."

"It doesn't have to be anything fancy," Tashi says.

"Pretty sure I saw an old diner on the way here," Patrick suggests. He stands, stretching and groaning before bending over to take Tashi's hand and help her up.

You sputter, watching them all start to stand before you. "Shut up, we're not driving, you're drunk."

"But sober enough to see how badly you want this," Patrick teases, waving a finger near your face and smirking. "You're drooling."

"No, I'm not!"

"Sure you are," Art joins in, pulling you up to your feet. He swipes a thumb at your chin, "Look right there, by your lip."

"Oh," Tashi grins, "I see it."

"Shut up, Tash, no you don't." The words fall from your lips before you can stop them. The old nickname fits too smoothly as if it hasn't been years since you've called her that. Tashi smiles, feeling like a teenager again, messing around with you. She starts to walk off, Art and Patrick following her while you stand there, dumbfounded and a little breathless from their teasing.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a burger?" Tashi shrugs, and she smirks at you, a mischievous smile that makes you wonder if any of you have ever grown up at all. "You coming or what?"

You try to be reasonable, "I can't just leave."

"We'll bring you back before anyone notices," Patrick bargains, jogging back to your side and taking your arm to lead you to the exit. "Lighten up, when was the last time you had some fun?"

You don't even look back.

You find yourself laughing, nodding as the four of you make your way out of the garden. The moonlight guides your steps, casting long shadows on the path.

The walk is a blur of laughter and shared stories, the kind of carefree joy that you haven't felt in years. Before long, you arrive at the diner. The neon lights buzz softly, casting a nostalgic glow over the parking lot. You can smell the greasy, comforting aroma of burgers and fries even before you step inside.

The few people in the diner stare, watching as what seems to be a runaway bride and three wedding guests stumble and giggle over each other, lips a little purple from the wine you've all had and ordering burgers to go.

Once you have your food, you all find yourselves sitting on the curb of the diner's parking lot, the warm night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Patrick hands out the burgers, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light as he makes a show of presenting yours to you. "First bite in... how many years?"

"Too many," You take the burger with a chuckle, unwrapping it and taking a bite. "Oh my God," you mumble around your mouthful, "this is amazing."

Tashi watches you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Told you."

Art takes a bite of his own burger, nodding in agreement. "There's nothing like it."

You shake your head, going in for more, "This is the greatest thing I've put in my mouth."

Patrick, already halfway through his, lets out a loud laugh, "Yeah, I bet."

The parking lot felt like a little bubble of the past, untouched by the years that had separated you. It was strange how easy it was to fall back into the rhythm of your old friendships, how natural it felt to banter and laugh as if no time had passed at all.

Tashi rolls her eyes, though you don't even seem phased by Patrick's joke. "I can't even get mad," you say, swallowing, "I feel like I'm eighteen again."

"Tell me about it," Art agrees. Then he pauses for a beat, chewing on her burger a little slower before turning to you. "You know, this reminds me of that time... when, you know."

"Oh," You snort and nod, scrunching up your face at the memory. "Yeah. It kinda does."

"What?" Patrick looks between the two of you, raising his brow in interest. "What time?"

"It was a long time ago," you tell him.

"Like back in Stanford," Art explains, and then he points between Tashi and Patrick with his burger, "when you two were still a thing."

Tashi sits up straight now, her full attention on you and Art. "Oh, really?"

"It was that time Patrick came for a surprise visit in the middle of our girls' night," you say, nodding your head at her, hoping she'd catch up with the memory. "And you kicked me out of your dorm so you and Patrick could... you know."

Tashi nods. "Have some alone time." She finishes for you.

She remembers that night well: you were both nestled in the haven of her dorm room, the soft glow of the television casting gentle shadows on the walls as the movie played on. You were curled up under her covers, your bodies intertwined, legs tangled together in a comforting knot. The world outside ceased to exist in those moments, leaving just the two of you in your little cocoon of comfort.

Tashi can still feel the sensation of your fingers running through her hair, the tender, rhythmic motion soothing her in a way nothing else could. The warmth of your touch lingered on her scalp, your fingers traced lazy patterns, and she remembered the way her body instinctively relaxed into yours.

But then came the knock on the door, and she felt her heart jump at her throat as she swung her legs out from under the covers and padded softly to the door.

When she opened the door, there stood Patrick, his presence almost surreal. He was holding a bouquet of carefully picked-out flowers, their vibrant colours contrasting sharply with the dim light of the hallway. His smirk was both nervous and charming

"You kicked her out?" Patrick gasps, and Tashi gives him a blank stare. He's acting as if he wasn't even there, as if he didn't stand by her desk while watching her scramble to clean up the mess the two of you made in her dorm and shove you out the door before locking it.

Patrick shrugs, that stupid smirk painted on his lips again before he finishes his burger. "Would've let you stay if it were up to me," he tells you, "The more, the merrier."

"No way," you poke your tongue at the inside of your cheek. "She wanted you all for herself."

"Please, I would've been too distracted with you to even give him my time of day," Tashi admits. "I did you a favor, Patrick. Saved you from blue balls."

He holds a hand to his heart. "I'm so honored."

"But anyway," you start, "while I was walking back to my dorm I bumped into Art, who got stood up on a date."

Patrick blinks, turning to Art. "You got stood up?"

"Was it that girl from marketing?" Tashi asks.

Art's cheeks start to turn red, the flush growing from his neck and up to his ears at the attention. "Yeah, she, uh, she bailed on me last minute."

"I remember you telling me the date went well," Patrick says. "That you guys went out late, bought takeout... you made out in your car," Then, to fuck with him, he adds, "You came in your pants 'cause she kissed your neck. Remember?"

"And that did happen," Art confesses begrudgingly, glaring at Patrick while Tashi laughs. "It’s just... it wasn't with her..."

"It... it was me," you admit.

Tashi wishes she could say she's surprised, but it's nearly impossible because anyone who knew you back in college knew very well about the big crush you harboured for a certain blonde. She knew the way you swooned after him, even if you never tried to admit it because it was too embarrassing.

"Wait, so," Tashi starts, poking at your side and drawing a nervous giggle from you. It makes her smile. "Is Art that guy you told me about, with the puppy eyes and pretty smile?"

"Okay," you puff out, blushing, "I did not say puppy eyes."

"You think I have puppy eyes?" Art asks you, his gaze softening.

When you take a few seconds too long to answer, Patrick claps his hands together and swings his arm over yours and Art's shoulders, pulling the two of you closer to him. "Aw," he teasingly coos at the two of you getting all flustered, "you think he has puppy eyes."

"It was so long ago," you say, running your hands over the soft fabric of your dress. "I don't even remember."

"I'm so sure you don't," Patrick hums, a knowing look in his eyes before he presses a sloppy kiss against your cheek.

You groan, shoving your hand in his face to push him off before you stumble to stand on your feet again, wiping your cheek from his spit. "You're disgusting," you huff, but there's no real bite in your words because there's a faint smile threatening to appear at the corners of your lips. 

You stand there for a beat or two, brushing off your dress and feeling the weight of the night settling in. You stare down at the three of them sitting on the curb, the neon lights of the diner buzzing behind you. You can see the hall where your engagement party is from where you stand; you almost don't want to go back.

"Okay," you tuck your lower lip between your teeth as you hesitate, "this... this has been fun."

"Don't leave yet," Tashi says while Art's smile drops, his face falling in disappointment.

"Yeah," Patrick rushes to stand, reaching for you, "the party was just getting started."

"I really have to get back," you step away. "If anyone finds out I left, I'll hear about it for days. This has been great. Like, seriously, I don't think I've ever laughed this hard since before..." You trail off, your tongue getting tied as you glance at Tashi, then at her knee, covered by the length of her dark purple dress. You clear your throat. "Well, uh, I better go. But thank you again, for the beer and the burgers and the memories. I hope you guys can make it to the wedding."

You start to walk away before they can say anything. Like, on purpose, as if you know that if they tried to make you stay and ditch your party, you would. You would cave to their defences.

The sound of your heels is deafening. Tashi watches you go, she watches how you wrap your arms around yourself, and it all feels too similar to how she watched you go all those years ago and never chased after you. 

"Don’t marry him," Tashi stands from the curb. She's shaky on her feet, taking long strides to walk past Patrick and hoping to catch up to you. She sees you freeze in your steps, barely out of the parking lot. You turn to look at her quickly, face falling in shock at her demand.

"What?" Your voice is quiet, hoping that your ears are betraying you.

Tashi slows down once she is close enough, the distance between you is almost nothing but the gap feels like miles. The red and blue lights from the neon sign blend into a deep purple against your skin, casting an ethereal glow that makes this moment feel suspended in time. She watches your face, sees the way your brows knit together, the flicker of anger and confusion in your eyes.

Her heart is pounding, the blood rushing in her ears almost drowning out her voice. But she forces herself to speak, her voice low and urgent. "Don’t marry him," she says again, each word feeling like it's being ripped from her chest. Her resolve, which had held firm all these years, finally crumbles.

Getting Patrick back into her life had been one of the most complicated, tangled pains she had ever undertaken. The late-night calls, the awkward meetings, the painstakingly slow rebuilding of trust between herself and Art. 

None of it had been easy.

Yet, even with Patrick back, there had always been something missing—a void that only you could fill.

She looks into your eyes, her gaze unwavering, despite the tears welling up. "Please," she pleads, her voice breaking. "Please, don't marry him." The words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea that carries years of longing and regret. She knows that having you back won't make up for the lost time, and won't magically fix all the mistakes and missed opportunities. But she can at least try, can at least fight for the chance to make things right.

"Tashi, you can't possibly be asking me to—"

"It’s not worth it," she tells you anyway, her voice trembling with the weight of unspoken truths. She knows it’s a risk, a gamble she's taking by laying her heart bare, but she can’t hold back any longer. The years of resentment, of silent longing, bubble to the surface, fueled by the sight of you with someone else's ring on your finger. It's a bitter pill to swallow, the realization that she resented you not for leaving, but for never coming back. 

Why didn't you come back?

Tashi's words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea born from years of unspoken desires and regrets. "Both of you want different things anyway. You don't love him," she continues, her voice raw with emotion, "it's not gonna last. One day you're gonna wake up in the middle of the night and realize I'm right. You'd hate to admit it, but I will be right. I am right. He doesn't deserve you. He's no good for you."

You scoff, "And you are?"

"You said it yourself," she presses on, her voice barely above a whisper, "You've never laughed the way you do with us. And you kept in touch with Patrick, so that's gotta mean something." It's a feeble attempt to grasp at straws. "Marrying him will just be another excuse, another stupid reason. I thought you were better than that."

Then she remembers that night before you left for London, back in 2012. It's like a distant memory now, a flicker of what could have been. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as you stood on the precipice of something new. She remembers the way your eyes met hers after your exchange with Art at the hotel bar, a brief greeting with an old friend, both of you at the peaks of your careers. It is a silent exchange of longing and regret. For a moment, it felt like time stood still, like the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

She remembers the smell of your perfume, the bitterness of the drink you were having and how she could taste it when she kissed you; tongue running over your teeth, nails clawing at skin, hair tangled between fingers, hot breaths and unkept promises and false apologies and a night of regret.

And then the morning came, and with it, you had to leave. And she never stopped you.

"Tashi… I can't just throw this all away for you. For any of you. You were the one who told me to leave."

"I know."

"Because you know everything, right? Because you know he's not good for me, you know it all."

"I know you."

"No, you don’t," you say, your voice tinged with hurt. "Not anymore.”

Tashi huffs, shaking her head before she reaches out, cupping your cheeks gently in her hands. Her lips hover over yours for a moment, a silent plea hanging in the air between you. She waits, her heart pounding in her chest, for you to make a move—to kiss her, to push her away, anything.

You gaze into her eyes, tears glistening in the dim light, before finally closing the distance between you. The kiss is tender, and bittersweet, a culmination of years of unspoken longing and regret. It's a brief moment of solace amid chaos.

Your hands dig into the nape of her neck, where the short ends of her dyed hair tickle the skin of your wrist. The heat of your engagement ring nearly burns her, the edge of the diamond scraping against her skin.

When you pull away, breathless, Tashi fears this will be the last time she will see you. 

"Tashi, this doesn’t change anything," you say, your voice trembling.

"It changes everything," she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You know it does."

But you step back, breaking the contact, the distance between you growing with each passing moment. "I have to go," you murmur, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders. "I need to think."

As you walk away, Tashi watches you go, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She clings to the memory of that fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope in the darkness. 

Back in the hotel room, an uneasy silence settles among the trio. Tashi steps out of the shower, her mind a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. The press of your lips still lingers on her own, a persistent buzz that crawls under her skin. 

As she rubs lotion into her arms, she takes her time, methodically moving over each inch of her skin as if she could somehow rub away the confusion and yearning. She finishes her skincare routine, staring at herself in the mirror, almost meeting the eyes of the eighteen-year-old girl who had her whole life ahead of her. It's a constant chant in her head not to dwell in the past. 

She has to focus—she needs to find a way to pull Patrick Zweig out of the top 200 ranks and get him qualified for the US Open by the time the next season starts.

Speaking of the devil, when Tashi steps out of the bathroom, she finds Patrick lounging on the loveseat by the open window. Naturally, his shirt has found itself a home on the floor, and a cigarette dangles from his lips.

He perks up when she walks out, sitting up to greet her, "Don't beat yourself up."

Tashi rolls her eyes and climbs into the bed, letting herself sink into the soft comforter. "Shut the fuck up, Patrick. And put that shit out."

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette out the window, grinning when he hears Tashi scoff. "She's a stubborn little shit," he says as the hotel door clicks open and Art walks in. Patrick hums, "Probably only marrying him to piss us off anyway. Been trying to talk her out of it for months. Never listens."

"She might listen to Tashi," Art says, turning to his wife with a hint of optimism in his voice. "Lily's asleep, by the way."

"Right, because my word is stronger than both of yours," Tashi retorts, pulling the blanket over her legs.

Art and Patrick glance at each other before nodding, "Yes."

"Well, yeah."

They all sit in silence for a while, each lost in their own little bubble. The hotel room is quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of the bedspread. 

Art joins Tashi on the bed, absently flipping through the channels on the television, the remote clicking softly in his hand. Beside him, Tashi pretends to read a book, her eyes scanning the same sentence over and over again without really absorbing the words. Meanwhile, Patrick rummages through the mini fridge, the sound of bottles clinking and wrappers crinkling breaking the stillness.

A quiet knock on the door makes the three of them freeze, their heads snapping up in unison. They exchange hesitant glances, each wondering if they imagined it. Then three raps against the wood sound again, more insistent this time. Patrick scrambles to the door, Art and Tashi close behind him, their curiosity piqued and their hearts pounding.

Patrick swings the door open, and there you are, a sight for sore eyes. You're still in the same dress, though one of the straps has fallen off your shoulder, and your makeup is smudged around your eyes. You hold your phone close, dropping it from your ear.

"I tried calling," you say, turning your phone so they can see Patrick's contact, a simple 'pat' with a cute tennis ball emoji next to his nickname. "You never answered."

"My phone died." He shrugs.

You let your hand fall to your front, where your fingers pull on each other nervously. Tashi can't help but notice the lack of a ring on your finger all of a sudden. She raises her brows at you, a knowing look flashing across her face before she tells you, "Something's changed."

You roll your eyes and step into the room, sliding between Art and Patrick easily. "A lot has changed." You walk until you reach the middle of the room. 

It's a big hotel room, not nearly as big as the ones Art and Tashi are used to staying in, but big and luxurious nonetheless. You fit in perfectly with your white gown and styled hair, a vision of elegance even in your dishevelled state.

You turn, facing the three of them again. "I hope whatever offer you guys were hinting at earlier still stands... I don't exactly have anywhere else to stay, unless I want to hear my mother telling me how she was right the entire night."

Tashi smirks. "You know I'm about to tell you the same thing too, right?" She closes the space between the two of you, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. Her nails brush against your jaw in a feather-light touch until her fingers pause below your lips.

"Yeah, I know."

You don't seem too upset about it. Instead, you're grinning, letting Tashi push her thumb between your lips. The gesture is intimate, charged with unspoken emotion. You're standing face-to-face when she says, "I told you so."

She leads you to sit on the bed, and you let her, nearly tripping over your heels before you land on the soft duvets. Tashi leans down, her nose brushing against yours, and you swallow your heart racing.

"You were right," you murmur. It's hard to maintain eye contact when your skin is buzzing with heat and when there's so much going on in the depths of her eyes that it dizzies you. "I hate it, though."

Her nose is cold against yours, a sharp contrast to the warmth of her breath. You let your eyes fall shut as she slowly traces patterns under your chin, pressing her thumb harder into your mouth before pulling it out. She catches the side of your face with it, making a mess with your spit.

She smiles, "I know you do."

Instinctively, and embarrassingly, there's a shiver rolling down your spine.

Tashi releases a small chuckle, and then, after a final moment, her lips fill in the small gap between you both. You sink into it immediately, heart rejoicing as her lips, warm and smooth, explore your own.

It's a little fumbly, nervous and making you tremble under her hands. Tashi loves every second of it. Her fingers grip your face tighter, mouth pressing to yours with more hunger as you wind your fingers into her hair and sigh. Between gasped breaths and soft sounds of enjoyment, she slips her tongue along your lower lip, and so you open your mouth a little wider.

Tashi ends up straddling you, making out like you're both teenagers again, putting on a show for Art and Patrick. The exhilarating butterflies twirling in your stomach match the memories, too. 

You moan softly as she pulls away from your mouth, her attention shifting to your neck. As you watch Patrick and Art make their way to sit next to you on the bed, the bed dipping, you tilt your head to the side and open up your throat to Tashi. You whimper as you feel her lips drag over your exposed skin. She nibbles and sucks until she finds the sensitive part that makes you cry out.

"Fuck," you whimper. You tug on her air-dried curls, coaxing her back up to your lips so you can enjoy the feeling of her mouth on yours. Tashi sighs, and you can feel her smiling into it while beckoning Art and Patrick to join in.

Their lips are on you in a split second, with Art pressing soft, ticklish kisses against your collarbone, and Patrick sliding his tongue from your shoulder to the back of your ear. He's moaning at the taste of you, sucking a bruise under your jaw while digging his hand into the back of your hair. 

He slowly starts to bring his sloppy kisses to your mouth, lips brushing against Tashi's and your own before she draws back. You whine, pouting as you watch her take a few steps away before making herself comfortable in the cushioned seats by a small dining table. You can't pout for too long, because now Patrick is kissing you, tugging softly at your hair until your back arches.

His tongue presses against yours, pressing as far back as he can reach, swallowing your every moan and whimper. You bring your hand up to scratch at his beard, then run your nails over his scalp. This is when Art starts to get a little bolder by running his hands up and down your thighs, pulling and pulling the long skirt of your dress until he reaches the end of it and he can touch your skin and take off your heels, tossing them aside somewhere.

Patrick traps your lower lip between his teeth, watching it bounce back into its place as he leans back just the slightest bit. You break apart with a whimper. Your half-lidded eyes meet his, then flick down to the trail of spit strung between your glistening lips. He stares at you, cheeks a little red as he smirks, "I've missed this. Missed you."

You smile, breathless as Art's hand makes its way up higher and higher and closer to your heat, his mouth is relentless with its attack at your neck. He grinds his crotch against the side of your leg and you cradle the back of his head with your other hand.

"You saw me last week, Patrick."

"Last week?" Art pulls away. His lips are parted, eyes a little dazed but focused enough to stare between you and Patrick in confusion. Tashi smirks from where she sits and shifts in her place.

"We're not all perfect, Art." You groan, rolling your eyes as Patrick laughs, reaching over you to start pulling down Art's pants who shifts in his place to let him. Once they're off, he looks at you, and it's embarrassing how fast you tangle together, melding together into a pathetic heap on the bed for Tashi and Patrick to see. 

Your lips move in tandem, his soft, pouty lips slitting against yours with ease as you lead his hands to your chest and shove them under your dress.

Art squeezes and fondles your breasts over your bra, his hips jerking against your leg again, almost desperate as his boner presses against the fabric of your dress as it has fallen down again.

Tashi startles you as she settles behind, one knee on the bed while her other long leg steadies her on the carpeted floor below. You let her tilt you backward, parting you from Art and she draws you into an upside-down kiss. The salacious kiss leaves your legs parting for the two men beside you. 

Patrick makes quick work of taking that damn dress off of you and you sputter out a pathetic moan when Art's soft hands tease your hardening nipples once Patrick gets half of it off.

Your dress eventually falls into a heap on the floor in front of the bed, you’d matched with it a white paired set underneath. 

"No fucking way," You peek one eye open slightly to see Patrick scowling while Art runs his hands everywhere he can reach, across your stomach, your thighs, under your boobs, down your back. 

Patrick tilts his head and groans, "I can't believe you wore this shit for him."

Your hand cups Tashi's jaw to deepen the kiss as you both ignore Patrick, only Art snorting out a laugh as he tugs his shirt over his head. 

Patrick slots himself between your open legs, stopping just a breath short of your aching cunt to nip teasingly at your soft inner thigh before dragging his mouth up to your neck again. He revels in the moans he's able to draw from you as he finally comes to caress your face. 

You pull away from Tashi and gasp in a breath. "Kiss me, Pat," You bite your lip, feeling your heart race as he eyes you up so openly. 

"Beg me," He counters with a quirked brow, challenging you. 

Your nose crinkles, "I'm not doing that."

"I'm not kissing you, then."

"Shut up and kiss her, Patrick," Tashi groans, attached to Art. She holds his face the same way she did with you, pulling him closer and letting the man crawl to her. But she's glaring at Patrick with venom behind it you know she can’t mean when she's trembling under Art's gentle touch as he slips off her silky nightgown.

"Come here," You beckon Patrick closer with a fiendish look in your half-lidded eyes.

"Yes, ma'am." Patrick nods, dazed as he obliges. "Anything you want, beautiful," His voice slightly slurs as the space between you diminishes once again. "I'll do anything for you," His husky voice drapes around your name like velvet as it's whispered against your plush lips.

Your hands easily find themselves tangled in Patrick's curly hair and tug him to your lips with aching want. You dive in immediately, lips meshing against and, eventually, catching against his chapped lips. 

A moan escapes from your throat and he uses it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. From there, it's another flurry of saliva, tongue and entirely too much white-hot pressure building below. 

When you break for a breath, a string of saliva stretches between each of your red, puffy lips. Patrick groans at the sight and pulls you in for a slower, raw kiss that leaves you slick and trembling for more. When you pull apart again, Patrick plants a sweet kiss on Art's mouth before focusing back solely on you, his hand slowly approaching your white thong.

When he starts to rub, you moan into his mouth and start trailing your hand to his crotch, palming his dick. Patrick reciprocates easily and tugs at your lower lip with an impish look in his eyes. 

Lips attack your neck again, pulling you higher up on the bed. You hear pants and clothes being shed from every angle around you before you're surrounded again, hands everywhere.

While Art pulls Patrick into a kiss, Tashi cups your face again and draws you into a gentle one as you settle between her legs, your back to her chest. You rest your head on Tashi's shoulder as you heave out another breath, her hands travelling from your navel to tracing shapes on your clit, over your wet panties, spreading your legs apart with her own. 

"Please, Tash," you whimper as her fingers curl around the edge of the fabric and tug so it strains against your leaking cunt perfectly. She then decides to skim a whisper of her touch against your pulsing ache. 

You gape as Patrick wraps his hand around Art's dick, stoking it, and he lets out the prettiest little whine. Patrick slowly works his way down Art's body, running his tongue between each curve of his muscles, collecting the sweat that's been building on his skin before wrapping his mouth around him, taking all of it in one insatiable bob of his head.

Tashi's nails tickle lightly up your stomach, then in the valley between your breasts and then back down again. It has you spiralling, arching your back as she presses a kiss at your neck.

"You're being so good," she coos into your ear. Your name is only a breath out of her mouth, and she's edging your clit with a gentle roughness that could only come from a woman of her calibre. Tashi pulls your panties aside and flicks and flits about your dripping cunt like she already knows how to make you come undone.

It makes you tremble. You'd sworn up and down earlier about how Tashi didn't know you anymore, and here she is, proving to you that she still does, that she knows every curve and divot of your body, that she still knows what makes you whimper and twitch.

Your hand quickly reaches behind you, between the heat of your back and her body and finds her clit and you try to emulate how she's making you weak. Each quiet gasp you earn from her has you moaning back tenfold under her saccharine trance and she quickly starts pumping two fingers into you.

One particular flick of Tashi's thumb on your clit coupled with her lips gliding against and sucking your own in a wanton kiss sends you over the edge. You moan and cum, back arching as you relentlessly force Tashi's hand against your cunt, searching for more delicious friction. 

She takes you all, and lets you ride it all out on her fingers while swallowing every moan you let out in a lewd, wet kiss. Art and Patrick moan appreciatively at the two of you, then focus back on each other.

Before you're able to come down from your high, Art's shoving his come down Patrick's greedy throat. He swallows it all, pulling off Art's red-tipped cock with a vulgar pop that creates a trail of saliva in its wake. 

Patrick smiles down at you and leans closer, and you think he's about to kiss you but then he swerves and kisses Tashi instead, who removes her hand from your cunt and slowly works it up his thigh until she cups his balls and gives them a gentle squeeze. He moans into her mouth, winking at you amid his impromptu make-out session you were tempted to join.

You shimmy back and turn on your stomach, positioning yourself between Tashi's long tanned legs. "Can I eat you out?" You ask while kissing up her leg, and you want to hear how much she needs you. You bite at your bottom lip as you nuzzle into her juicy cunt. "Tashi?" You look up at her from where your face is pressed against her. Her sweet smell makes you sigh as you tease your tongue with her hip bone. "Please, Tash, let me taste you." 

"Yeah, go for it," Comes her breathless plea.

You finally pull her lips apart, revelling in how she squirms against your hold on her hips. 

You're on your knees, trapped arching between Tashi's long legs when you hear Art clear his throat. You give one long lick up Tashi's twitching cunt before turning around with her slick dribbling down onto your chin to where Art has sidled up behind you.

Art crawls closer to you, "Can I touch you, beautiful?" He tilts your chin up as he awaits your answer. 

When you nod, he easily descends upon your lips, placing a sure hand behind your head as he deepens the kiss into something absolutely filthy. As soon as you break apart, he kisses your shoulder, then down your spine.

Tashi guides you back to her. You allow her nails to tangle in your locks as she forces your head back down against her arching hips.

"Shit," Patrick huffs, rough hands reaching for the globes of your ass while Art's smoother ones trail up your spread, inner thighs. Tashi tugs at his dick a little harder, which has him panting against her lips.

Tashi gasps as you flick at her clit then quickly move to tease her entrance with the tip of your tongue. You flatten your tongue, dragging it across her length and repeat the motion until she whines for you to stop. 

You slurp the combination of drool and slick as you pull away with a pussy-drunk smile. She meets it with a panting, dazed one and removes her hand from your hair to push her own out of her eyes while Patrick sucks at her neck.

"Ah!" You startle forward into Tashi's tits as Art finally breeches your entrance with his index finger. 

"Eat our girl out, Art," Tashi motions for Art to lie down under your spread form to get a better angle. You can't deny that the new nickname drives you a little crazy. "Show her she's ours."

Art's soft hands draw another moan out of you as they assuredly grip your hips to keep you in place while he unleashes teasing licks against your pussy.

Tashi draws you back to her. You'd know that look anywhere—she's ready to cum.

"I want you," Her breath hitches around your name while your tongue steals the rest of her coherent words until she's a withering mess under your touch. 

Her pornstar-worthy moans ring out across the room like a beautiful symphony. Tashi's wanton noises coupled with the wet whines you're unleashing against her folds until the two of you create the lewdest duet this hotel's ever heard. 

She arches against the bedframe as she tells you her near release, tugging at your hair as she draws closer and closer to the edge.

Panting, she draws you against her lips for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. 

"Fuck, Tashi," You groan against her plump lips, feeling your own impending orgasm drawing near. "You're so fucking hot, I-"

She cuts off your rambling with another wet kiss. Her tongue flicks out to tease yours before sucking it into her mouth with a lewd slurp. Your hand works alongside hers to leave her shaking and whimpering against your lips as she comes undone by your hand. You smack her cunt lightly, eating the groan she feeds into your open mouth as she rides it out.

Tashi eats your moans as they echo against your messy tangling of lips and tongues.

Art's fingers start to pick up a pace as Patrick, feeling left out, starts thrusting his throbbing cock in the middle of your sapphic kiss with Tashi. You eye the two with half-lidded eyes as you share Patrick's cock with her. After only a few moments in your mouth, Patrick pulls out and releases across Tashi's and your expectant tongues.

"So fucking good to me," Patrick pants as he splatters the last of his come across your faces with a shaky groan. "Best fucking orgasm ever, swear it," He says as he encases his lips around yours, swapping his cum between your mouths before moving to Tashi to do the same.

Art moves out from under you, offering your knees relief as he lays you back against Tashi's stomach to fuck into you.

It's a slow and cruel pace, only made crueller by how Patrick and Tashi touch you like they already know where you want to be touched. Each brunette takes a side, Patrick sucking your tit into his mouth while Tashi's mouth draws you in for a kiss. Her nails tickle at your other erect nipples until you're arching off of her and into Art's thrusts, making him whimper.

"Just like that," Art whines your name. "You're so fucking tight."

It's when Patrick and Tashi move their attention down to your clit that you know you're fucked. Patrick spreads your folds with two fingers, watching as intensely as Art does as his cock disappears in and out of your hole.

"He could've never made you feel like this, right?" Tashi rasps. "He has no strategy, no real game. Just a fucking waste of space. Could never make you feel this good, this loved."

You don't need her to say his name, you know what she means. You're panting, shaking your head against her shoulder. "Never."

"Told ya," Patrick laughs into your skin. "Make her cum, Art. C'mon, man." 

"Fuck- please," You whimper, nodding. "I need to come, baby-" Without warning, you arch off of Tashi. Neither she nor Patrick stops their jerks against your clit as you gasp, eyes rolling back in your head with the thrum of a second wave creeping up on you with a steady building heat. Waves of pleasure roll over you as the tantalizing sensations become too much. You come loudly, arching pathetically off the bed as you desperately reach for Art, to hold him.

You're wriggling in Tashi and Patrick's arms as Art pulls out and releases across your expanding and retracting stomach as you pant out the remnants of your orgasm. 

"Shit," He moans, and his voice sends waves of aftershock across your body while his steady hands draw you against his naked chest for a toe-curling kiss.

You'd never been happier to have invited Patrick Zweig to your engagement party.

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[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

The Fight

Older Eddie x Reader. reader is mid to late twenties, and Eddie is thirty-nine.

You and Eddie get into your first big fight and aren't speaking, work is terrible, and you're running a fever and coming down with a cold.

❤️

"I'm not fucking speaking to you when you're being a brat. I don't know what is up with you today but I'm sick of it"

It wasn't really like you and Eddie to argue much but earlier you had gotten into an argument and the two of you were still not speaking.

You were being a brat, you felt off all day and had wrongly snapped at Eddie when he asked if you were feeling alright, the argument escalated from there and the both of you said stupid things.

Now it was radio silence between the two of you.

Anxiously you head to bed only to find him turned away from you, avoiding talking and big space between you, usually you fall asleep wrapped up in Eddie's arms but that wasn't going to happen tonight.

"Eddie?" You murmur softly but there's no response, he isn't asleep but he's not talking either.

Blinking back tears you get into the bed and burrow into the covers, it takes you longer to fall asleep than normal and when you do you're still tossing and turning, shivery one minute then hot then next.

Now you have woken up with a bad headache, and Eddie isn't there. He has left medicine and a glass of water on the bedside table but you wish he was here and holding you close, you feel terrible and just want him with you.

When you try to call into work your boss is a dick and won't let you have time off. He's ranting on the phone so you take the medicine and water and bundle up in warm clothes.

Work is a nightmare. It's a double shift that Austin can't get cover for and you're struggling to get through it. Austin is his usual "cheery" self and even though he can see you're sick he's still a dick.

On top of that, you haven't heard from Eddie and that is making you anxious. Do you text him first? He's super busy at work today so you don't know if he will reply or even if he will if he's still mad at you.

Nearing the end of your shift, you're tired and aching all over, you're pretty sure you have a fever. It's making you irritable and you have to bite your tongue when Austin is moaning about yet another thing.

Thankfully all is calm in the store and Austin leaves you in peace for the last half hour as you tidy up and get things ready to lock up.

It's so quiet that you rest just for a minute but that minute ends up being ten and you're jerked away by Austin.

There are cups to clean in the staff room which he's too busy to do and once again you bite your tongue and get on with the job.

You're tired, dizzy and really need to sleep so your reflexes aren't the best and one of the cups drops out of your shaking hands, it nicks your skin and stings harshly. Fuck.

"For fuck sake, you better clean that shit up, can't you do anything without fucking up?" Austin snaps and you freeze at this, heart pounding. You open your mouth to retort but nothing comes out.

"It was an accident" you manage to say but he's not listening and muttering expletives, well muttering them so loud that you can hear but quiet to anyone else.

It's a relief when the shift ends and you head back to Eddie's. Your hand is throbbing and everything that's happened during the last day has you close to tears.

Eddie is home when you get it and waiting on the couch, his expression anxious but it clears when he sees you.

You really don't want to argue again, you're so tired and sore at this point. "Where were you?" he asks softly and you slip your jacket off, desperate to change out of your clothes and get in a relaxing bath or shower.

"Austin sprung a double shift on me...what is it Eds?" He's gazing at you in panic.

"You're bleeding" he's up at once and taking your hand in his, eyeing the cut worriedly and then rushing to get the first aid kit. Shit you didn't think it was that bad.

"I dropped a cup" you explain and Eddie's eyebrows knit in anger. "Oh yeah, what did that dickhead of a boss of yours say about that?" he tenderly cleans your wound and bandages it up.

"Oh, the usual, insults and yelling" You sigh and vow that you really need to look for a better job. Eddie growls low in his throat and presses a kiss to your head then pauses, presses his palm to your forehead and swears.

"Fuck, you're burning up. He seriously let you work like this!" He's fuming and you soothe him.

"It's okay, I just need to sleep" You close your eyes barely being able to keep them open and resting your head on Eddie's chest. He's still tense but softens when you nuzzle into his chest.

"Hurts" you sigh and he swallows as he holds you close to him, you're dozing in and out in his arms as he carries you to bed and helps you out of your clothes.

"You're shivering, do you want to go for a shower baby?" That sounds like heaven and you agree, then begin sneezing.

The warm water is heaven on your aching bones and Eddie joins you, wraps his arms around you and holds you close to him.

"Why didn't you say you were feeling so shitty? Is this why you were so grumpy yesterday?" he caresses your cheek and then leaves soft kisses on your neck as you nod.

"Yeah, I was bratty though" you mumble and desperately just want your bed and maybe a few more cuddles from Eddie.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart. I've felt like shit all day about arguing with you. I wanted to talk to you and apologise when I got home from work, shit I thought you were mad when you didn't come straight here after your shift but it was that dickhead boss of yours keeping you"

"I'm sorry too Ed's" he kisses you, holding the kiss for a few seconds but his smile fades when your lip wobbles. Being sick always makes you feel emotional and out of sorts.

"I could kick Austin's ass for having you work like this. He's probably made you even worse and I swear if catch that prick anytime soon, he's going to get his balls ripped off for yelling at you" he mutters under his breath a few choice words and it makes you giggle.

Eddie's arms wrap around you and he presses soft kisses over your forehead. "I'd do anything for you, I love you so much, you know that princess. I'm sorry for being a jerk" he kisses you until you're laughing again and beaming at his goofy antics.

Unfortunately, the giggling erupts into a coughing fit and Eddie patiently helps you out of the shower and as you dry off, he finds your comfiest pjs which you change into and feel yourself relax for the first time today, even if you do feel like shit.

Your nose is all stuffy and you must look a mess but Eddie stares at you like you're the most beautiful thing in the world to him.

"Beautiful, I love these PJs" he toys with them and you snort. These are your favourite PJs and a little ratty, not sexy at all.

"Liar" you tease and he holds you close to him, "You're going to get sick too if you keep this up" you warn him and he shrugs unbothered.

"Don't give a fuck, need to make sure my princess is okay. I'm gonna get you some water and more flu meds, maybe some soup because you need to eat something"

Eddie makes the soup that his uncle made for him when he was sick, chicken soup and little stars. It's very sweet and delicious, he seems less anxious once you've eaten and had some meds and fluids.

"I'll call Austin tomorrow for you and you are going to rest, Brian can cover my shift, he owes me anyway and we'll just relax and do nothing, make sure you're all better" That sounds good, to be honest, you do feel a lot better but it would be nice to just rest and catch up on sleep.

The rest of the night is spent in Eddie's arms with his own brand of special medicine, kisses and cuddles to chase the cold away.

❤️

[what-the-floofin]

So how do baby taurs work for the equitaurs and cervitaurs in your stuff?

Oh that's a good one actually - lots to talk about! Too much for one post, but gotta start somewhere. Enjoy some messy micro scribbles peppered throughout. They were originally very very tiny so, pardon blurriness.

I've got my Taurs running overall pretty similar to equine cycles and gestations - meaning they are what you call 'long-day triggered' by the spring and summer seasons.

(Though they do cycle throughout the year, just at slower rates and less consistently over cooler seasons)

This goes for the cervitaurs too - rather than using the shorter gestation of their deer alikes - as they and their foals are a bit bigger and more complex to deal with. Which also goes to suggest that twins/multiples are not a frequent occurrence for cervitaurs in comparison to actual deer, and inherently poses as much danger as it does for equines instead. Possible, but high risk and incredibly demanding.

So, you're looking at an 11 month gestation on average, and typically starting in a mid-spring to late-summer window. Which places most taurs at being born early-spring to mid-summer. It's most uncommon to be winter born, but not weird tbh.

Foals are super awkward, there's no getting around that, and in the first year they have a ridiculous growth rate when compared to other sentient creatures of similar lifespans.

These things are weeds - the difference from one day old to three months old is phenomenal alone. They are, however, cooked a little further along than what you'd be comparing to for a newborn human. They're able to support themselves enough to avoid outright injury (think like a 3-4 month old baby), but gaining actual control of all those limbs takes a bit more time. The equine half however would be a touch undercooked for a horse. Just physically, in size. No worries about comparative internal developments, that's all good and ready to go.

So they're typically gonna spend shy of their first month feeding and sleeping, practicing rolling up, sitting and limb coordination to build strength for self-standing. If mama has places to be, that baby is getting carried.

I also absolutely subscribe to the idea of arms being naturally held close to torso prior to having balance and coordination. It would support them a lot! Then it becomes a self-soothing gesture seen in the anxious, and an instinctive positional response when badly startled. Tuck in!

By three months you can expect them to be racing on their little stilt legs - albeit still with the occasional wobble and spill. And wowee did that happen fast when you think about it.

While the zoomies are a lot, they're balanced out by the fact that so much oncoming growth means foals crash nap very frequently. These buggers sleep a lot. It's go hard and sleep hard on endless rotation. Play, snack, nap, rinse and repeat.

This accelerated growth races away throughout their first year, and then drops right back into something a bit more reasonable - at least when you're considering it from the human perspective!

Yet in comparison to how they first started out, it's practically snail paced.

I'm meaning, you look at the size of a 3 month old horse foal, and that's the closest comparison to a 2 year old taur foal in body. Every 'horse foal month' thereafter starts guiding the next 'taur foal year' visual until you hit that yearling horse look for a taur when they're 10-11 years old. Then by that point, they've reached most of their full leg length, and the next 10 years is focused on finishing the bulking out of their frame.

(click to enlarge I hope) - Featuring my lass Thalo here haha

By rule of thumb I just have both equid and humanoid aspects grow in relative balance to each other, lanky stages and all. From the human perspective, the humanoid half grows crazy fast at first and then becomes comparatively similar. From the horse perspective, the equine half is crazy slow and always is. It would also give credit to having a higher physical durability than their animal counterparts. More time was spent growing!

It's worth noting that a lot of perceived 'weirdness' only comes from trying to compare them purely 1 to 1 with either horse, deer or human kids. Taurs are their own thing though! And nature's most consistent attitude is to Find What Works and Do it. No matter how wack, if it works it's used.

So, a rapid starting growth tapered into a much slower rate once they're stabilised and running was just the path that worked best for this Taur survival. Keep it simple!

There's always more to cover, but this is chunky enough for now. Whew!

[teaboot]

I'm surprised/impressed? by how blase you are about people threatening you at work. A neighbor threatened me last week and it was so scary and I wish I could have had the same kinda response you seem to.

First off, I hope you're safe and okay, that's an awful experience to be familiar with and especially bad that they live so close to you D:

Second, I'm certainly no maverick out here- I've only been doing this a few years now- but I've found that about 99% of threats I receive have very little intent to follow through.

The type of threats I usually receive are typically from:

Someone who's had bad experiences with security or police, in the past. People with hand and face tattoos, homeless folks, people with mannerisms that get them labeled as "sketchy", POC, and people who've been incarcerated all have valid reason to believe I'm out to get them, and may get treated badly elsewhere often enough that they're expecting that. Every time I approach someone, I have to take this into account and do everything I can to signal that they haven't been profiled based on preexisting stereotypes.

Someone experiencing the symptoms of a mental health condition. People with mental illnesses are statistically victims of crime more often than they are perpetrators. That said, I have run into people before whose mental illness can present as aggression- if someone behaving erratically or is known for that sort of thing tells me they're gonna blow my brains out, but I can clearly see they're unarmed, not coming towards me, haven't hurt anyone, and show no intent of escalating, I'm probably not in danger. A few people I've met will see me again in a day or two and will have no problems with me at all.

Someone who is scared, frustrated, anxious, or grieving. Not to excuse violence in any context, but in my experience 99% of people who blow up at me aren't actually thinking about me. Anger isn't so much an emotion in a lot of ways as it is the reaction to another emotion- if someone tells me they're gonna kick my ass, I have to question if there's anything they may be frightened, frustrated, or sad about something else entirely. If I can address and resolve what's causing the anxiety, the anger usually goes away next. If I can't deescalate, my next job is to disengage and make sure myself and others aren't at risk of harm.

People who want something from me. This does not happen often. Maybe they want me to back off, or leave them alone, or let them take something, whatever- maybe they think I'm someone with clearance to use physical force, or they think my flashlight is pepper spray. Whatever it is, once they've made it clear they're willing to act, I back off. Unless they're hurting another person, nothing they want is worth getting stabbed or shot over. And physical conflict is insanely stressful, even for the attacker, so even then whoever threatening me will likely take any "out" I can give- I keep paths of escape clear, stay out of range, keep calm and respectful. Every time this has happened to me, the person has run away when given the chance.

People who genuinely want to hurt me and intend to follow through. Again, this is super uncommon- I think it's only really happened to me once or twice on the job. Yes, it's scary, but I find it helps to remember that they arent after me, they're after the uniform. If someone is coming after me in costume, so to speak, it's not who I am as a person, it's what I represent. And a lot of people seem to think I'm a cop, or see me as a faceless goon, or a past abuser, or an intruder in their life specifically sent to make them miserable. If that's what they believe, there's not much I can do to change their mind except, again, stay calm and respectful and disengage.

I do know how to defend myself to an extent, but again, I don't have weapons or restraints or a vest or anything and I'm kinda small on top of that so really I'm cool with hauling ass if I gotta. If me getting the fuck out of dodge resolves the issue then I'm not above radio'ing HQ from the top of a tree somewhere, that shit is above my pay grade.

TL/DR in my personal limited experience, someone who has told me that they're going to hurt me wouldn't have given me the warning unless there was something I could do to avoid it. Stay calm, don't yell, be respectful, give them an escape route and run if you need to

Stay safe out there, yeah?

[mattypattypinky]

Anxiety (Inside Out 2) Romantic Headcannons

Crush Advancements

I feel like when she has a crush on someone she goes through stages. Like, I think it would start with denial.

She'd like, super duper deny that she has those feelings, and she'd be scared of the idea of having those feelings for someone. I feel like part of the reason is because she's overthinking countless things that could go wrong. What if they don't like her back? What if they hurt her? What if she hurts them?

It would take her a long time to get out of this phase and the next phase is hardly any better since I feel like after she identifies it's a crush she'd heavily overcompensate to try to mask it out of fear that if you found out something bad may happen. Like she'd emphasize how great FRIENDS you are and how she loves you AS A CLOSE BEST FRIEND or MUTUAL, she'd emphasize it or stress it in hopes you don't catch on to her crush.

She'd probably exercise favouritism but she would try to deny that she is doing that??? Like she'd try to be around you more than the other emotions or talk to you more but if anyone accused her of such thing she'd actively try to hang out with other emotions to prove this theory wrong.

Like if she got you a gift and envy got jealous she'd get Envy, Embarassment and Ennui a gift as well.

"I'd like to buy you a drink! ... Why??? Because, um... I'm buying EVERYONE a drink!"

I feel like when she decides to confess, she'd have a full proof plan and script she's memorised. Like, she'd plan a night with you that she can be alone and hanging beside you for a few hours, maybe you both take dream duty or something. She has a full script she's rehearsed when brushing her teeth in the bathroom. She knows word for word what she plans to say to you and if at any point her script gets interrupted or derailed I feel like she'd abandon the script entirely and decide to confess another day.

If her music skips, if the dream isn't playing the right dream, if she stutters, if you talk over her or ask something in the middle, if someone walks in- Anything goes off script and suddenly her 'thing she needed to tell you' can wait and she completely abandons ship until next time you're hanging out.

Realistically I feel like she'd had planned out every bad end to her confession, and not what she would do if it ended smoothly, so if she ever manages to fully confess her feelings to you and you express that you reciprocate I feel like she would short circuit. Like she'd never even thought of the possibility that you would say yes to her advances, and even if she did, it was overshadowed by all of her anxious negative outcomes.

I feel like if you said Yes she'd panic because her script for the positive reaction "never got out of drafting" and she'd try to recite the script she write word for word but I feel like she took so much time on the negatives that she wouldn't even have the second sentence down for the positive outcome.

She'd be afraid she looks like a fool not knowing how to respond to your reciprocation though.

General Romance

She'd search up how to be a good partner on the internet, or got a book about it, and follows it to a T.

I feel like one of her love languages would be quality time and gift giving.

She keeps track of her lovers interests so she can formulate heart-felt presents, if you were interested in a specific dream (movie) she'd try to watch it so she can learn the plot of it so you can talk about it to her together. She'd actively try to engage in anything you like in attempt to make herself seem like a better partner, as she would be extremely worried constantly that she isn't, or that she isn't doing enough.

But also she'd do it simply to see that smile on your face, because it makes her feel good knowing she's doing you good.

She'd be a very reassuring partner, but need a lot of reassurance herself. She'd be very clingy, and she would worry that it would bother you. She'd probably say sorry quite a lot in the relationship even for miniscule things because she wants to make sure you know she never intends to do by you wrong.

She says I love you a lot, even unprovoked and randomly, she needs it back or she will spiral into a worry about if you do love her back or not. :(

I feel like she'd be a little bit of a jealous partner, but she'd be absolutely disgusted by the fact that she is. (It's just because she is extremely insecure and anxious) - She would overthink that if you like someone and hang out with them that you'll like them more than her and leave her, which is completely irrational but she tends to be when it comes to anxious thoughts as that. You tell her you're going to hang out with another emotion for a few hours and I feel like she'd be like, "Oh, yeah, no, that's fine!" but inside she's Panicking and stressing out and coming up with tons of bad outcomes. You'd learn quickly you might need to reassure her a little bit more than other partners.

She has trouble sleeping but I feel like she'd prioritize her partner getting to bed before her if her partner has trouble sleeping too, - She would rather her partner get rest than herself. However if you are insistent on helping her sleep she'd feel extremely flattered and probably get flustered and nervous but agree to it.

She's the type of girlfriend to constantly put her partner's health over hers, she'd forget to drink water, she'd forget to eat, she'd drink six energy drinks in one sitting but if her partner did any of that she'd have a panic. She'd preach how dangerous it is to go on 2 hours of sleep with no nutrition yet she's doing the same thing.

She'd definitely be a cuddler, she's very big on physical touch but she would lay off if her partner isn't. In the movie she is very touchy with every emotion she interacts with on a face to face basis so I feel like in a partnership that would double. She'd be very keen on hugs, holding hands, linking arms, snuggles, etc. She'd be very worried about it being overbearing or annoying. She would constantly ask.

I feel like she has random spikes of confidence in the relationship, like out of nowhere she will flirt really confidently and then when she realizes what she's doing I feel like she'd quickly backtrack and apologize, stating she doesn't know where it came from. She'd be very anxious about getting too comfortable in the relationship despite that being what people do in relationships.

Regardless of how it is though she would love you, and she would express it in her own way.

Special thanks 2 my lovely boyfriend @fenny-self-ships who helped me curate these headcanons today :D

PS! I MIGHT TAKE PROMPT REQUESTS IF YOU GUYS GIVE ME IDEAS TO TALK ABOUT WITH HER.... pleasee... I need more ideas...... give me ideas people!!! send a brain storm!!!

[hotpinkstars]

HIIII I JUST READ YOUR BOOTHILL IDEA ABOUT PREGNANCY AND I AM WELL FED 😭 i love how angsty it is. oh boy i'm sure struggles a lot during his s/o's pregnancy. like...it has lots of cry and self-conflict because he may thinking that he isn't helping his s/o. there gonna be small arguments and misunderstandings. it's hard for the both of them and the baby. 🥹

ohhhh yes. yup. decided to take a real angsty route with this one. I added some mentions of his actual backstory here, bc my og one was written before his backstory was released lols

Boothill definitely cries during your whole entire pregnancy. He also has a lot of bad thoughts about himself during it, too. 

At first, he tries to hide it, and either subtly cry, or just simply wait until you’re no longer in the room or the house. He doesn’t want you to know that he’s not happy because of the state he’s in. 

He used to be human, he used to be flesh, and most importantly, he once had a daughter of his own, and that's what crushes him the most. He fears so much that he’s almost going to replace her, even though he knows deep down in his heart that it most definitely wouldn’t be able to happen. 

He also feels so bad about not being able to do normal human things for your during your pregnancy :(((( he knows how much you want to be able to be soft and intimate, to take baths and be able to have a cozy massage and just a cozy person around in general, and he’s the exact opposite of that. He doesn’t even think he deserves the husband title anymore.

He literally once asked you why you’re still with him and not someone else. You explained that you loved him and you wanted to be with him, and even then he never really expressed the way he felt about himself to you but you could sort of see it in his eyes. He didn’t like the way he was and the fact that he can’t be what he refers to as a “proper dad” to his kid. 

He knows it’s hard on you, too, and he also knows that you’re catching onto his harsh thoughts, and you’re catching on fast. It caused an argument a few times, on how you’re hurt that he’s not expressing his emotions, he doesn’t want to, it turns into a “do you not trust me or something?” conflict on your end, and a “I just don’t know what to say without hurting you” conflict on his end. Misunderstanding that likely won’t just dissipate. 

There was one argument that you both had when you were nearing pretty close to your due date, and he decided he was going to walk out midway through and not come back for about a week. For some reason, he chose a petty route, leaving you anxious and super betrayed, considering he refused to answer his phone, too.

The argument was over something that seemed incredibly stupid, if you both must say so yourselves. He was, once again, insecure, and he wouldn’t tell you why. That was what bothered you- did he not trust you enough? Did he seriously not want to be a part of this baby's life? Why else would he just walk out?

To say it made you super anxious, scared, and lonely was an understatement. You were left with the thought that you’d have to give birth alone, and go back to your original game plan that you already mentally set up. You thought he genuinely left you.

That was, until he walked back into the house on a random afternoon that next week. He ran up to you and apologized, allowing you to cry it out in his steel arms. He felt so horrible, and he vowed to you to never, ever do that again.

He tries to start letting you in on his troubles from that point on, but there still seems to him like there's a barrier blocking his words from coming out. Sometimes, he just blames it on his synesthesia beacon, which seems to work for now. 

He also lets you see him cry more often, but that stops when you give birth. He doesn’t need you to be more overwhelmed than you already will end up being.

[kotoku]

Hiii~

Can I request aventurine and Dr ratio (separately or together ur choice) with klee reader

Maybe Sunday too?

I just want chaos to unfold-

Take care ☺️

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ, ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴋʟᴇᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

pairings - sunday & klee! reader / aventurine & klee! reader / dr ratio & klee! reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ klee! reader/ platonic relationships/ familial relationships/ chaos

warnings - a bit of angst (?), might be ooc i'm sorry guys T_T

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ Whether you met Sunday because you’ve been unknowingly stirring up trouble in the dreamscapes or you met him by chance, he’d be a bit worried and concerned about a child roaming alone in Penacony

↺ He may or may not slowly adopt you into his routine as he always finds himself being greeted by you on the streets of Penacony (or called by a family member because mayhem has been occurring in certain parts of the dreamscapes)

↺ Gazing upon the damage you had done in the dreamscape as you stared at him with wide innocent eyes, he couldn’t be upset with you but rather surprised by how much power this unknown child has

↻ Sunday would be a lot like Jean, but he’d be a little more lenient when it comes to you

↺ He’d probably have a small area/room that’s your designated play area whenever you’re with him and sometimes he’d have to give you a time-out for blowing up something in the dreamscape

↺ Said time out wouldn’t last long as he’d feel guilty looking at your saddened state

↻ Sometimes whenever the other family members had a meeting with Sunday, they would see you playing around with your favorite stuffed animal but wouldn’t dare question your presence (you had quite the reputation for being.. explosive…)

↻ I think when it comes to each character with a Klee! Reader, they’d have those animal backpacks with the leash attached to it just because you’re so chaotic

↺ One moment they would be walking with you and then the next you’ve run off to somewhere that caught your attention

↺ For Sunday’s mental well-being, he got you this backpack to help him keep an eye on you whenever you were distracted

↻ As I mentioned in previous posts, Sunday, whenever he’s anxious or worried for you, would pace around his office with his feathers just puffing up and some of them popping right off due to his stress

↺ When you are found safe and sound, he’d give you a tight hug and you’d start playing with the feathers that were scattered on the ground

↺ He’s.. amused by it

↻ Honestly, Sunday had no idea what to do with you as you were found to be alone and it didn’t seem like you knew any of your family members (Just going to ignore Albedo and Klee’s mother for my sake…)

↺ Eventually, he warmed up to you a lot and considers you his little sister, which Robin also adores having around

↻ Sunday would be very protective of you but a little.. nervous about your abilities, he knew to an extent you were capable of handling things yourself

↺ But you are still a child so he’s extra cautious about the dangers in the dreamscapes and makes sure that you don’t get into trouble

↺ Otherwise, he’d have to confiscate your bombs.. which he really didn’t want to do because then you’d be super upset

↺ He tried to confiscate them one time but that ended up with you ignoring him for the remainder of the day and you were sulking in your playroom

↻ Sunday, during the Charmony Festival, would keep a very close eye on you because of what has been going on within Penacony

↺ He’ll keep you in his line of sight at all times, whether it’s him personally accompanying you around or having you sit near him in his conference room, he wouldn’t want you wandering too far off

↺ You’d find Sunday mumbling to himself while looking at some documents, but you never really understood them so you always stuck to what you were doing

↻ Sunday is very fond of you, and he’d do anything to ensure your safety

-----

Sunday was seated at his conference table, hand holding his chin in thought as he scanned through the multitude of documents. He carefully looked them over and over again, thoroughly reading through the letters written by a family member he assigned an assignment to. 

With the Charmony Festival coming in full swing, Sunday wanted to make sure that things would run as smoothly as possible, despite the growing concern that was nagging him from the depths of his consciousness. He couldn’t afford to become distracted…

That is what he thought, but yet he still found himself engaging in your little antics. Although things were growing busier and busier by the day, he wanted to ensure that you were alright and safe, playing a couple of your games when you pleaded for him to stay. He didn’t find the idea of playing with bombs safe, but if it was what made you happy, then your wish was his command.

As he stood up to roam the halls of his mansion, he gazed out into the open through the grand windows, a million thoughts racing through his mind. The future of Penacony contained countless outcomes and he could only grow restless every time he thought of it. But having you around to distract him from his worries with your silly antics, even if for just a fleeting moment, made him feel as if everything was going to be alright…

He would make sure of that.

-----

↻ Aventurine would also find your chaotic nature interesting, in fact, he might even indulge in it by taking a role in your little schemes

↺ He’d be a little concerned when you go a bit too far with your bombs and antics, so he’d try nudging you into a not-so-concerning situation

↻ Aventurine would find you when you got into a little scuffle with his subordinates, somehow destroying some IPC property and getting an earful from his coworkers

↺ Those IPC grunts would be terrified of you if they saw what you could do, especially because you’re a CHILD playing with BOMBS (They’re seriously concerned about who raised you and why you are the way you are.. or how you even managed to have bombs on you??)

↻ He’d send them off to go do something else (or to go bother someone else..) and bend down to your level to ask about your guardians or caregiver

↺ When you are confused about what he is talking about, his concern would only grow before he’d take you to find a trusted person to watch over you as he was busy with an assignment

↺ However, he would only come back to find that you escaped a worker’s watchful gaze and were playing with that bomb toy you had on you (Docodo? Cododo?? Whatever you said its name was…)

↻ When Aventurine hangs around you a little more during his free time (whether he’s done with work or doesn’t feel up to gambling), inquiring about the little fella you had on you and about your background

↺ He’d kind of take you under his wing from there on out, having you accompany him on missions if he determined they weren’t dangerous and were minor assignments

↺ Topaz would find it surprising seeing him around with a little kid, she’d even be wary about his intentions with you as he had suddenly popped up with a small kid out of nowhere

↺ She’d introduce you to Numby who, to your delight, would play and spend a bit of time with you

↻ Sometimes you’d accompany Aventurine on his casino trips, but he’d try leaving you out of them as it wasn’t really a kid-friendly setting

↺ So sometimes you’d in up in a more appropriate setting like a small daycare where you were safe (yet you’d sometimes pop up next to him in a game and catch him off guard)

↻ Aventurine, as someone with a lot of money to freely spend, would spoil you with a variety of things that he’d think you would like

↺ You aren’t necessarily a spoiled child, but he’d still get you the things that have caught your interest, whether you voice what you liked or not

↻ When he passes by a shop that has a showcase of kid backpacks, he would see one with a plush animal and a leash and he’d automatically get it for you 

↺ You wouldn’t really care about the leash part as you’re too distracted by the cute plush animal backpack, so it really was no problem for Aventurine

↺ He’d be walking around the IPC’s headquarters or Penacony with the backpack leash in his hand, you following him yet straying whenever you saw something

↺ He’d have to give the leash a small tug to make sure you weren’t wandering too far off though

↻ If you did something dangerous such as blowing up something that belongs to the IPC, Aventurine would vouch for you, becoming your partner in crime (Him sending a sly wink your way as you giggle innocently, hands covering your mouth to stifle your laughter) 

↺ Topaz would be the one scolding you before Aventurine tries defending your honor, but then he’d end up getting scolded by her too

↻ Aventurine would try his best to protect your innocence, not wanting you to see the dangers that linger on the different worlds he ends up on or what may invade the IPC’s headquarters

↺ He’s seen and witnessed firsthand hand of losing his innocence at a young age, those memories of his past still haunt him to this day and he doesn’t want you living with the same burden so he tries his best to protect you from danger (even if you’re somewhat capable of protecting yourself)

-----

“_____, did you destroy a piece of the IPC’s belongings again!?” Topaz asked, a stern look on her face as you stood there innocently with your hands tucked behind your back. 

“No… I didn’t do anything I swear! You can even ask Dodoco!” You answered, shoving Dodoco out in front of you as if to emphasize your statement. Topaz sighed, shaking her head.

“_____… I know you want to play around but sometimes you need to be careful of where you are. You could get hurt or, well.. damage things that aren’t yours.” Crossing her arms, Topaz looked at you with a softer gaze. You persisted in your stance. 

“But I swear! I didn’t do it!” You cried out, holding Dodoco closer to your chest. “Y-you can even ask Mr. Aventurine!”

“I heard my name?” Aventurine slinked to the spot right next to you, giving Topaz a questioning yet sly look. Topaz couldn’t help but groan when he popped up next to you, feeling as if she was on the verge of being teamed up against. 

“Mr. Aventurine! Please tell Miss Topaz that I wasn’t the one who blew up some of the IPC’s equipment!” You begged, tugging at his coat as he looked down at you with his cat-like eyes. 

He gave you a closed-eyed smile, patting the top of your head. “Is that what’s going on? Well, I have unfortunate news for you Topaz, as little _____ here was busy helping me out with an assignment.” Aventurine had a smug smile on his face as if to tease Topaz and tick her off, which worked.

Topaz, rolling her eyes, heaved a deep sigh. “Fine, I believe you, _____. You can go run off and play now.” 

With a joyful smile on your face and a cheer, you thanked Topaz before turning to thank Aventurine, bowing slightly with a quiet giggle.

“Thank you Mr. Aventurine! Promise we’ll play next time?” 

“I promise, _____. Now go play with Dodoco in your room, okay? I’ll check up on you later when I’m done with work.” 

“Okay!” 

-----

↻ Dr Ratio wasn’t necessarily fond of children…

↺ He understood that they weren’t the brightest of stars, but he could barely handle some of the behaviors they exhibited

↺ I imagine he’d be so disgusted because of how kids can be known for doing the weirdest stuff… (Picking their boogers, touching a variety of items, being unsanitary... the list goes on)

↻ When he meets you for the first time, he’s curious about the construction of your bombs and how you were able to make them

↺ To his disappointment, you are only able to draw crude drawings of the construction of your bombs and poorly explain how you built them

↺ He takes it upon himself to sample one of your bombs to see what they’re made of and how they’re made

↻ You’d invite him (more like drag him) to help you create and play with your bombs and he’d reluctantly follow you to where your room is

↺ Aventurine walking in on you playing dolls (or your bombs) with Ratio

-----

“How are you doing?”

“Mister Ratio, say it in your girl voice.”

“Sigh… How you doin’? 💅”

*Aventurine laughing before Ratio throws the doll he’s holding at him*

-----

↻ Ratio, knowing him, would tutor you if you went to a daycare or school, helping you understand your homework and teaching you about different subjects

↺ You wouldn’t comprehend half the things he’s teaching you but you follow along anyway

↺ Ratio would be genuinely happy if you were able to learn something new from him and apply it to your life

↻ Ratio is the type of teacher figure to give you random quizzes to test your knowledge and understanding but he rewards you with things like snacks or trinkets he gets from his trips

↻ Ratio would be delighted to talk about his trips to you, explaining the history and geography of the planets he has traveled to you when he comes back

↺ He would draw a small map for you to understand the general location of the places he’s visited

↻ You’d be excited to learn about what places he’s seen and you’d ask him a myriad of questions to which he’d patiently listen and answer 

↺ The thought of Ratio being patient with a young child warms my heart, this is how he’d find out that maybe he can tolerate specific kids

↻ Ratio reading stories to you to help you fall asleep, but those stories would probably be academic books he uses to teach his students

↻ If you were to get in trouble for blowing something up, he’d show his disappointment and sternly give you a punishment that isn’t too harsh on you (he’d give you school work lol)

↺ Ratio would check in on you here and there when you’re in your room, if he finds that you’re asleep he’d tuck you in before looking over your work

↺ This makes me think of Ratio walking in to see that you had drawn him an artwork of the both of you with Dodoco (who he came to know as your prized friend)

↻ Ratio doesn’t have a clue who your parents or guardians are, so he tries to locate them at first to no avail (he ends up pretty much adopting you as his own kid)

↻ Sometimes you’d sit near his desk in his lecture hall when he was teaching his students, swinging your legs back and forth as you eyed everyone in the room

↺ His students find you adorable and get distracted by your presence at first before their professor sends them a chalk their way

↺ His students give you little gifts or snacks as they leave the room, a part of them hoping that Ratio’s rampage on his grade book will be softened by your happiness at the gifts you received

↺ He finds out what his students are doing, but lets them do it anyway since it’s making you happy (he’d probably set some limits though before you get way too much stuff)

-----

Veritas had just finished up his lecture with his students, organizing their work into neat stacks on one side of his desk. Once the last student had left his classroom, he took off his plaster head and sat it in front of him. In his peripheral vision, he saw a small empty chair to the left of his desk. It was where you normally sat. 

The violet-haired man was then reminded of your absence due to the sudden sickness you had caught the day before. With a sigh, he turned back towards the ungraded stacks of paper on his desk and got to work. He’d try to be home before midnight. 

…..

By the time he finished, it was already 9. Walking out of the campus, he was met with the emptiness the night brought with it. Students were already long gone, the handful of teachers that had stayed late already packed up and left for dinner, but he was running a bit late. So with a brisk pace, he set off in the direction of his home, the cool night air hitting his skin.

Once Veritas reached his destination, he quickly unlocked the door and went inside, the warmth of his home greeting him. His shoulders fell, the weight that had been put upon himself leaving his body as he could see a faint light coming from your room. 

Slipping off his outerwear, he quietly walked across the hardwood floors and stopped outside of your bedroom door. Veritas listened for any signs that you might be awake, but nothing. He placed his hand on the door and gently pushed it open so he was able to enter. 

You had left your bedside lamp on, with a couple of papers and crayons scattered across the desk you normally drew at. His eyes had landed on your small, curled-up form, snoring away beneath the comforters of your bed. He softly chuckled to himself, walking towards your bed and lifting the blanket so it reached your shoulders. You had stirred but only shuffled to get comfortable. Placing a small kiss on your forehead, Veritas got up to put away the crayons and papers you had left out.

While picking up and putting away the crayons in the correct order that was directed on the box, the bright, grainy colors on a paper caught his eye. He gently picked up a piece of paper that you seemed to have been working on while he was gone. It was a drawing of the both of you in a field of flowers, your best friend, Dodoco, in between the both of you. Veritas had to admit that it was cute, a small smile appearing on his face before he gathered the rest of your drawings and slid them into a folder. 

When he had finished making sure that everything was neatly put away, Veritas moved to turn off the lamp, wishing you sweet dreams. 

-----

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - hey ya'll.. nice weather we've got here... 😀 i really need to blast through my requests-- wearesobackipromise.

[fraugwinska]

Hi! Okay, damn, sorry, i tried to chill out and not request again so quickly 😅 but I've been constantly thinking about your writing, and I've read all your Alastor one shots like 10 times each...

I'm especially hung up on the ending of More than Words, I did not expect you to end it in such a sweet way and honestly I'd love to see a follow up to that, basically a part two :)

Plot wise I was thinking:

It's been a few weeks since the two of you fell asleep on the couch and Charlie is getting impatient since nothing else happened between Alastor and reader but she can see the way the two looks at each other when they think no one is watching. So, Charlie being Charlie, makes up a plan to set you two up. She also involves everyone at the hotel and some people outside (Rosie) - she makes it so whenever there's some activity, you two are always paired up, or Rosie invites you both for dinner but five minutes into it she leaves saying she forget about something important. And you notice what she's trying to do and while you do appreciate it, you also see that Alastor feels anxious and pressured (you see that but not the fact he's growing feeling for you), so you decide to talk with her. And Alastor hears everything? And we get another amazing sweet emotional ending? 👀🥰

Last thing last - please do not feel pressured to write it or anything, i just wanted to share this with you cause it's been on my mind 😅❤️

You ask - the fluff fairy delivers! 🧚✨ I loved More than words, so I was super happy and excited to write a continuation - and it's as fluffy and wholesome as can be! :> Thank you, Anon, for the suggestion and your beautiful, kind words!!!

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Louder than Words

"...and with Niffty choosing Husk, that leaves you two."

Charlie clapped her hands together with a gleeful smile, eyes darting between an annoyed looking Alastor and an annoyed looking you.

"Yes. That leaves us.", you sigh.

"Again.", Alastor adds, the smile on his lips twitching.

"Oh come on, guys, don't be such spoilsports. Look at how much fun this is!" she gestured to a blindfolded and beaten up Vaggie, cursing at Angel in Spanish who howled with laughter as he pushed her through Charlies makeshift obstacle course with much too much carelessness.

"Well I'll be damned. Ange actually managed to get her to to run into the same desk twice without gettin' punched.", Husk said in amused bewilderment, just as a loud "OUCH, ey, stop it Vagina!" was heard. Niffty giggled, blindfolding herself and taking Husks paw. The cat groaned but started to lead her - or more she dragged him - through the course, constantly (almost purposely) hitting something in her way.

You and Alastor looked at each other.

"Well, I guess you don't feel like going through a minefield of office furniture.", you shrugged, and took the last blindfold from Charlies hands, ignoring her excited squeal as you put it on. "Don't let me run into the coffee table, my shins still hurt from last weeks bonding exercise..."

Alastor let out an exasperated sigh. "Very well, then."

This was getting out of hand. As you felt Alastor's hand on your back, pushing you into the blindness forward, you thought about the last few bonding and trust exercises and how blatantly obvious Charlie was in her determination to get you and Alastor together.

At first you didn't mind, since she didn't make you do anything that wasn't bearable. On one activity, you had to tell your partner what you appreciated about them, that had been easy. Before Alastor could turn to Niffty, who stood next to him, she had almost hauled herself away, insisting on Angel as her partner, and Angel - next to you - nodded with unfitting eagerness. Alastor told you about how good you were at listening and giving good advice, and you had told him you loved the way he spoke - the accent, his way of choosing words and the melodic voice he had, and that you liked his laugh. Easy.

On another activity, Charlie made everyone pair up (of course, you were Alastor's partner, and this time you were sure the sticks you drew were marked by Charlie and Husk by the way they had shared mischievous looks) and hug their partner for five minutes. That had been less fun. You were much too aware how averse Alastor was to physical touch, and although he could've had it worse with Angel or Vaggie, you still felt bad when you saw the look on his face as Charlie set the timer. "We don't have to, Al. I can just sit this one out.", you had told him, but with a pained smile, he wrapped his arms around you stiffly, holding you in an awkward embrace. "It's alright dear, just... stay still, would you?" It had been a weird, uncomfortable silence, those five minutes. You avoided any touch yourself and did not dare to look him in the eyes, so to not make it any more weird for him.

It had taken you a long time to understand that the radio demon was, in it's essence, just another former human being turned sinner. A man with a lot of traumas and issues, who had died and gone to hell. Not a good person by heavenly standards... by most standards really, being an overlord and cannibal and all, but in hell that didn't really mean anything, you were all there for a reason. It certainly meant nothing to you. With a lot of work from your end, he had learned to trust you, and in return he let you get to know him, step by step.

But all these efforts could go down the drain at this infuriating persistence of everyone around you to force something that shouldn't be forced. Alastor was already uncomfortable at being touched, already hesitant to share things from his past, or his feelings, already on the fence of showing genuine kindness and trust. The last thing you wanted was to lose all the progress you've made with him.

The feeling of his arms around you had burned itself into your memory, and the scent of him had stuck to your skin for a long time. You weren't stupid, it had been a long time coming, this goddamn crush on him, this fluttering feeling one gets when getting too close to another. You had fallen for him a long time ago, and you could argue with reason all you wanted - it didn't change the fact you liked Alastor more than just a friend. BUT - and this but was important - he never had shown any interest in relationships, romance, love or anything. And that was fine. You were content to have him in your life, and if that was as 'just' trusted friends, you would still take it in a heartbeat.

"Watch out, darling, armchair to your left." Alastor's voice, right next to your ear, made you flinch. "Careful now, the carpet is starting to change into hardwood.", he warned and you nodded, taking careful steps. You had no idea where you were in the foyer, or if you were nearing the door or the stairs. "Are we anywhere close to the finish line?", you asked him and you heard his quiet chuckle.

"Oh no, we still have quite a way to go. Don't worry, my dear, I'll make sure you're not going to run into the remains of the cupboard Niffty just destroyed." His hand on your waist, guiding you, made you swallow nervously.

That gesture reminded you of another instance of your friends overreaching insistence - your visit at Rosie's last week. Rosie, your long-time friend, had invited you and Alastor for a dinner party. She had sent a message through Charlie (which should have been your first clue that something was not right), but both of you had decided to go, because who were you to deny her hospitality? You had been surprised to find her emporium so... empty, when you entered. No servants, no other guests, no one. Only you, Alastor and Rosie, sitting in her lounge chatting about the newest gossip of hellish politics before she served a whole feast of venison, various vegetables and side dishes, all of which had looked exquisite and overly fancy.

She had left almost as soon as you and Alastor sat down, saying she forgot to pick up something important from across the colony, and to not wait on her while she rushed out of the room with a glistening smile. You had watched her suspiciously, knowing she was up to something. It didn't take a genius to realize she was trying to set you two up, and Alastor seemed to have understood the same, because of the way he pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly uncomfortable and tense the whole evening. It had been a somewhat awkward affair, the two of you eating and desperately chatting, unwilling to waste the food. But you couldn't even get a proper bite down your throat with how much your stomach was twisting.

When Rosie returned, she found you sitting on the sofa, drinking tea, while Alastor was absent.

"Did something happen?", she had asked you with a pinch of impish curiosity, and you had replied "No. Nothing." in a dry tone. She had sat down next to you, asking how dinner had been, and if the two of you enjoyed yourselves. "Oh yes, it was lovely, although your seat empty surely was a little damper on the fun." you had answered, giving her a fake smile. You never saw her that abashed before. When Alastor returned to bring you back to the hotel, the walk had been... silent. Awkward, as you hung on his arm he had presented you, with him unable to look you in the eyes and you not wanting to press him into more talking. When you had arrived home, he guided you through the double doors, his hand on your waist, before quickly saying good night and melting into his shadows to rush away into his room, leaving you alone in the dark foyer.

It was like you were standing on glass, always having an eye out to make sure others wouldn't push too hard and break the thin ice you walked on, with a dangerous fondness deep beneath the surface, too fragile to poke.

"...listening, Darling?"

"Huh? What?"

You felt the blindfold being removed from your eyes, the sudden light blinding you.

"You look a little flushed my dear." you blinked your eyes, only to see Alastor stand directly in front of you, just barely out of arms reach, staring you in the face with a scrutinizing expression. "The exercise is over, we made it through the course without a scratch, I hope I didn't cause you any discomfort."

It took a moment for you to realize that you stood at the edge of the maze of furniture, but what really knocked you off your balance was the way Alastor's head was tilted slightly to one side, his crimson eyes almost boring through you, staring deep into your soul, as if he was looking for you, truly seeing you, and how he reached out a sharp tipped hand towards you with the look of worry on his face. You took a step back, laughing nervously and raking a hand through your hair.

"All good, Al. I'm just glad there's no imprint of my face on any of the cupboards." You saw him jerk his hand back with a pained smile. "Splendid.", he laughed, the edges of it trembling. He looked everywhere but at you, "Shall we join the others, then?"

You followed him to one of the sofas and let yourself fall on the plush cushions next to him. You watched his ears twitch as Angel hollered a jubilant cheer of Vaggie's name, who finally reached the end of the course, the blood on her shins almost dried. Husk patted a panting Niffty on the back with a fond look, while Charlie cheered as Angel bowed for her with a big grin.

"Told 'ya the spicy taco and I could make it out alive and in one piece, Charls!"

Vaggie gave Angel a deathly glance, then sighed. "It's high time for lunch, hon. All the blood loss made me hungry..."

The group collectively agreed and headed towards the kitchen, talking and laughing loudly with each other. You couldn't help but give Alastor, who kept his gaze anywhere else than to you, a look, furrowing your brow. This had to stop, now.

"Charlie, do.... do you have a minute?"

The princess stopped to look at you, her smile disappearing and her eyes widening as she saw the stern expression on your face.

"Uh- Yeah, sure.", she shot Vaggie a look, as if begging for her help, but you just grabbed her hand and pulled her away into a nearby corridor while the others snickered and headed off, telling them to take their time. Charlie gave you a nervous glance, and the pitiful face of guilt only worsened your mood.

"Charlie, I know you mean well, but you have to stop."

"Listen, I didn't mean any harm..." Her face was full of pitiful remorse. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.

"I'm aware of that, Charlie, but you are making Al uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry, really, that's not my intention! I just Thought you two need a little push in the right..."

"This whole... THIS might end our friendship all together and I don't want to take that risk! You're even getting the others involved. For fuck's sake, even Rosie is in on it. Al doesn't want this - us, relationship-thing, WHATEVER, and it is not okay for you to press us!"

Her eyebrows shot up. "But you want it."

"What?", you said, irritated.

"You're only talking about him, and his feelings. But what I'm hearing is, that you... you like him, right? You'd say yes to..."

Tears of frustration shot into your eyes. Why didn't Charlie get it? "That doesn't matter. It's not something only one can decide, you should know that. He doesn't feel the same, and that's fine. He doesn't want to be with me, and that's fine. I can accept that. What I can't accept is the way you're hellbent on forcing a relationship on us. He is happy the way we are, and I don't want you and the others to mess that up."

You turn away from her, angry and hurt. "I just... want him to be happy. To have his boundaries respected."

"I... I'm sorry...", Charlie started, but you already walked off.

You were angry. Angry at Charlie, angry at everyone, angry at yourself. Almost at your doorstep, a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"Dearest? I'd like to talk, if that's alright with you."

It was Alastor. Of course it was Alastor.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, a feeling of dread and guilt washing over you, as if he had overheard the entire conversation, and you slowly turned around, swallowing. He didn't seem upset, but his face was calm and serious, not the usual cheerful smile on his lips.

"Of course."

He held the door to your own room open for you, closing it behind him after you entered.

"Take a seat, Darling, if you would."

You sat down, hands in your lap, avoiding his gaze, looking at your carpet with feigned interest. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, a painful stinging sensation in your stomach.

"Darling, would you look at me, please."

With a heavy sigh, you obliged, looking up.

"Al, listen, I'm sorry...", you started, but were interrupted by the radio demon's hand, raising up.

"Please. Let me talk, would you, my dear."

You closed your mouth, and he nodded, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I know I'm a... difficult man. And I am not exactly the best in understanding the feelings of others. I also know that the princess and - under her meticulous orchestration - our fellow residents, are quite adamant in their endeavor to try and push us together."

You swallowed, hard. The way he looked at you made your stomach drop.

"Al, listen, it's alright, I've talked to Charlie and I'll tell the others to stop..."

"Darling, would you PLEASE shut up for a minute?"

The room was suddenly silent. He rarely talked like that to you.

"As I was saying..." He sighed, and you couldn't help but think he was utterly frustrated. You felt horrible. "I don't appreciate it when people assume what I want or don't want."

"Neither do I.", you mumbled, and he let out a laugh.

"That is precisely my point, Darling." Alastor took a few steps towards you, his cane twirling in his hands before he poofed it out of existence. "And as such, I've been pondering for a while how to proceed. The way the others keep pestering us, I thought it's better to clear things up between us."

Your heart sank. So he did overhear your conversation with Charlie, after all. You couldn't blame him. You would've done the same.

"Alastor, I understand..."

"Do you now?", he asked, tilting his head to one side, an incredulous smirk playing on his lips. Lips that were suddenly awfully close to your own. When did he get so close? Why did he get so close?!

Everything slowed down - his arm snaked around your waist, his hand came up to your neck, a thumb caressing the little dip of the bottom of your jaw. Your trembling hands came to rest on his chest, and you felt his heartbeat hammering underneath the fabric of his jacket. His eyes, those beautiful crimson eyes, were fixed on yours, and your breath came out in a shaky sigh before his lips closed over yours, kissing you so softly and sweetly you could barely comprehend what was happening. Your fingers gripped the lapels of his jacket, holding on for dear life, and as he deepened the kiss, you gasped, your whole body tensing, melting, yearning.

It felt like a dream, an out of body experience, and for a short, panicked moment, you felt the cold, hard grip of fear around your heart. What if it was just a dream, and when you wake up, everything is back to the way it was before? What if he would pull away any moment, and apologize, saying he made a mistake?

But the fear disappeared almost immediately, when Alastor hummed contently, and pulled you even closer to him.

You could feel the warmth of his body, the way his hand on your neck got tangled in your hair, how his breath was mingling with yours, and the scent of him filled your nose. The faint smell of spices, old books, wood and something like burnt amber, a scent you would never get enough of.

"Now tell me, dearest, if you understood.", he murmured against your lips, the grin audible in his voice.

"I... might need a little more explanation."

You could almost hear him roll his eyes as he leaned in to kiss you again, and his laughter against your lips made your heart skip more than just one beat. The sound of wood cracking and a loud rumble snapped both of your heads towards your door.

In a pile of heads and limbs, five bodies fell through the splintered wood of your door frame, groaning in pain, the remains of the door still swinging in its hinges.

Alastor looked at the pile of eavesdroppers, a wide, dangerous grin on his face.

"Dear me, what an entrance. I wonder, did the door offend you, or was that the result of a lack of proper manners?"

Angel, being the first to poke his head out of the groaning mess of sinners, pointed at you with one of his arms, the others fisted the air in victory.

"A-HA! WE FUCKING DID IT, fuck yeah!"

Niffty, the next one to crawl out of the pile, nodded eagerly.

"I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!", she chanted, jumping up and down excitedly on a groaning Husk's back.

Charlie's face came into view, a guilty look on her face as she untangled the others in a hurry, shoving them out of the door.

"Uh, so, sorry, the door was kinda in the way. Didn't want to interrupt anything, sooo, We're just gonna... get back to cooking."

With her tail between her legs, the flustered princess and her entourage vanished faster than the speed of light, leaving you and Alastor alone with your heart pounding fast, your hands still clutching the front of the overlords jacket, and his arms around your waist in a protective embrace, your breaths mingling.

"Would it bother you terribly if I killed them?", Alastor growled low in his throat, his smile widening.

You just couldn't stop grinning. "As tempting as that is... I rather you don't. For now, that is. Ask me again when they are finished cooking."

He returned your smile. "Fair enough, dear."

He closed the gap between you and his lips meet yours halfway in a soft, and most certainly not-enough-to-last-a-lifetime kind of kiss. You thought you could get used to this.

"I'm sure they can handle lunch by themselves, don't you think?", he hummed into your ear. You didn't trust your voice to reply, and simply nodded.

"Wonderful."

Tagging all commenters on 'More than words', because LOVE @mysterypotatoink @ladyzaunis @penelope-potter @lustylita @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @katgirl05 @deadt3tinside and @minkdelovely (for the daily dose of fluff)

[vixenvoider]

I ENTERED THE VOID STATE

in this post i will explain in depth how i entered the void state and what i manifested. i will be open to questions but if you ask something that i explain in this post i won't answer it just fyi, so even though this will be long, if you are truly curious i encourage you to read the whole thing. i am sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes that might be present.

overall story: i have been trying to enter the void for around 2 months now, and finally entered through a lucid dream. one thing i want to note before i tell my story is that i have been lucid dreaming my whole life (so if you never have, i don't know what good steps are for beginners).

the beginning: my journey started when i inadvertently came across a post about how someone else entered the void state and manifested their dream body and face. i was not into manifesting before, in fact, i actually had a problem with the whole concept of the law of attraction and didn't know there were other types of manifestation and never looked deeply into it. that being said, i have always been an open-minded person and also, a more or less spiritual person. i believe in a lot of "out there" things because a lot of said things have been proven to me (through experiences i find hard to explain so i'm not going to). i'm sharing this to let you know that due how deeply i naturally believe in such things i never really had a problem with my void concept, even though i experienced doubts (so for this area i really can't give much advice).

so after learning about the existence of the void state i searched "void state" on tumblr and skimmed some info here and there on it, what i came across included some basic methods on how to enter the void but i didn't fully understand them yet. that same night i followed a shifting guided meditation but i couldn't really get "into" it, i was a naturally anxious person who found it hard to relax so it just wasn't working, but i did see it through and try my best and i think in the long run it helped me. in the guided meditation i listened to, the person makes you walk through a door to get to your desired reality and even though the meditation didn't work, that imagery worked it's way into my subconscious and i had a lucid dream that night. i did not manifest anything that night but it was on purpose (i think). in my lucid dream i woke up in my bedroom. i looked in the mirror and decided i would change what i saw to a more desired appearance and it worked (i looked exactly like the person i was thinking of), then, i decided (with intention) to open my bedroom door and enter my dream house and it worked. at this point in the dream i thought that entering the void must be super easy since i was already basically close and could have done it there if i wanted to BUT i chose to wake up because i wanted to enter the void when i actually knew for sure what i wanted my manifestations to be. i knew i was going to want a lot if i really thought about it and i also didn't want to actually look like someone else (my whole lucid dream i was more trying to test my imagination and build my confidence). the next day i started making a void state list and writing down everything i genuinely wanted for myself.

experiencing doubts: things started to go wrong after that hahah, after my first beginner's luck(?) experience i was struggling to lucid dream (even though i've always naturally been a lucid dreamer, the times it occurs is still random and i couldn't make them happen) and meditations were only getting me so close. all in all, over the past 2 months i had 5 failed lucid dreams and several close, but failed, meditation attempts. this instilled some doubts in me, especially the lucid dreams, because apparently once you lucid dream it's meant to be quite simple but when i would affirm for the void in my dreams i would just wake up or the dream would continue.

another thing that caused me to doubt the void was questioning some of the stories on here. most of them i initially don't believe anyway because it's known there's many liars in the community and there seems to be a trend of people posting void success stories in an attempt to enter to the void (to act as if it already happened) but they technically haven't in reality yet. that being said, i did have some blogs i mostly trusted and then one day one of the blogs i trusted answered an anonymous ask about a success story and it really looked like they sent it to themselves. the reason i thought this was because the op of the blog spells a commonly used word wrong all the time but it's not a spelling mistake people commonly make (in fact, i know no one who makes this spelling mistake) but then the anon that sent them the success story made the exact same spelling mistake. it made me worry that perhaps there were no true success stories because why was this person who supposedly mastered the void bothering with sending asks to themselves to validate their blog? i mean this was all speculation but it still caused me to think.

that being said again, i still basically believed, i just wavered a little, but i definitely believed enough to keep persisting (because why not?)

the success: finally, after almost 2 months i entered the void through a lucid dream. when i realised i was dreaming i tried to make myself stay super grounded in the dream but i also thought about not taking too long since i didn't want to wake up. i did this because i realised the very first night when i had my lucid dream, i didn't get excited and try immediately, i hung around in my dream for a while and just enjoyed things (as i explained). so i wandered around the dream a bit and just looked at things, touched things, tried to feel the temperature and take note of it and then when i felt calm and not too excited i closed my eyes and affirmed for the void and entered. when i got the void i just said "i have everything on my void list" (a few times to make sure) and then stated i was exiting the void state. the void feels how pretty much everyone describes, you just know it's happening and you are pure consciousness.

what i manifested: my void state list ended up being super long and i manifested a lot of personal things that i won't share, which is what i'm sure would be the same for most people, but i'll include a list of things that others might find interesting or encouraging:

desired appearance (including body, face, height etc)

money (i came up with a plan that of how it would make sense in my country to have acquired it)

got rid of my anxiety disorder (having this was probably the most debilitating part of my life, it's also why i know meditation never truly worked for me since i could never relax and it's crazy to feel not severely stressed constantly for the first time in my life)

got rid of my autoimmune disease and fixed my eyesight (i manifested being healthy overall in general)

feel comfortable instantly, i will no longer get too itchy, feel dirty after a long day, be too hot or too cold etc. (can't really attest to this one yet but i have felt no discomfort)

dream living space and whatever bed i sleep in to always be super comfortable

opinion on the void state: overall the point is that the void state is real and you can get anything you want, getting to the void is also easy but it's just about trying to go for it and not getting discouraged. i don't want to share too much of my opinion on this because i actually find it really toxic. some people will get mad if you say you "entered" or "got to" the void because you technically are always the void, and personally, i don't find these slight changes in language to be important unless you are very sensitive to it. for me, it doesn't matter if i think about the void as something i enter or something i am because i believe it exists and that's all i need to know at the end of the day. if you want to see it as something you are, or a state or anything else, i don't think it matters as long as you believe manifestation is possible, you are the creator of your reality, you get to decide what language or thought process works for you :)

common questions: i'm going to answer some question i feel like i will get if people find this post so i'm just going to answer them here. remember that these answers are just my opinion.

question: how come people don't manifest to end world hunger, for everyone to have money, to become the next "big thing", to be a real life superhero, for everyone to be happy etc. truthfully, i think people do manifest that but i don't think they stay in this reality. a lot of people think that using the void at all means you shift your reality, idk if i believe in that, but i would have to assume the people that use the void to manifest very extreme things ultimately have to shift realities. so this would mean the reason you're not seeing these results is because these people are no longer in this reality. if you pay attention i think you will also notice that most void success stories that seem to come from reliable sources (though this is still all personal judgement) seem to be rather humble, these people just manifest to be the prettier version of themselves, to live in a nice place, to be around good people and other similar things. i think people with mostly humble desires stay in this reality and people with more fantastical desires (to be the most famous person ever, to be a multibillionaire, world peace) go elsewhere.

question: why would someone even have humble desires? i can't speak for every single person but i think it's just the desire to stick to the familiar. we want better lives but also want to feel at "home" still, i wanted to still feel like ME. maybe it seems stupid and selfish but if we really are shifting realities every time then there really is no way to actually solve world hunger anyway, it will always exist in this reality even if you or i personally go to another one. at the end of the day, life isn't fair and i am just grateful to have discovered the void to live happily and am sharing this so you can too.

question: i'm worried about the wrong people finding out about the void state. honestly, me too! but i think this falls in line with my past two answers, if someone terrible happened to stumble upon this post and entered the void, i don't think they'd stay here, they will go to some other reality more likely, so i really don't think we have to worry about someone super evil getting to the void and doing something super heinous or whatever. but honestly i do understand the worry. at first when i discovered the void i thought i wouldn't share my success story once i entered because i wanted to keep the void as quiet as possible. but just remember two things: most people do not know about the void and if they do a lot of them will give up and not persist. second, someone really evil finding it will probably leave this reality (my theory).

question: why do people not show better proof. truthfully, i don't know, for me it's because i really do want to live a private life and a lot of stuff i manifested can't be proven anyway. if i show my bank account, it could be photoshop, if i show my new face it means nothing because i revised to always look this way, i can't prove i no longer have my autoimmune disease and the list goes on. i think people with more dramatic proof also want to maintain their privacy or go to other realities. perhaps there's even been people to show dramatic proof in this reality but they had to revise that they didn't because it was a mistake.

question: do you have any overall tips? just keep persisting. and personally, i think it's okay to try several methods at once. i know some people say if you try several then it "cancels out" like, if you try lucid dreaming and it doesn't work so you meditate it means you don't "believe" lucid dreaming can work for you so then that's why it takes you so long but i think you can just tell yourself "every method works for me so i will just keep persisting". another thing i recommend trying for a few days is setting your alarm to go off at different times so day 1 is 8am, day 2 is 7am, day 3 is 9am and so forth. each day set the intention to wake up BEFORE your alarm goes off, once you successfully start waking up a few minutes before your alarm everyday this is your tangible proof that your intentions are working. this isn't really a method but more so a confidence booster that worked for me to remind myself i'm in control and powerful. if you also try this i think after a few days you will feel more confident intending to lucid dream, for your meditations to work, for subliminals to work (whatever is your personal vibe) and you will get there easier hopefully!

question: did you ever do any official lucid dreaming methods. personally the only way i ever had a lucid dream was by intending before sleeping that i would lucid dream. but methods where you wake up by setting your alarm early and going back to sleep and stuff didn't work for me. i tried but due to my anxiety i would always wake up super alert or even stressed, so i could never relax enough. but they are successful for many people so there is no harm in trying.

[endless-weightless]

Ford Pines x GN!reader headcanons!

I'm surprised it took me this long to get into Gravity Falls. Anyways this has both SFW and NSFW so beware. There's also a brief mention of being AFAB as a possibility but other than that it's completely gender neutral (I'm 99% sure, I didn't proofread too well lol).

SFW

Right off the bat, I’m saying he’s autistic because so am I and I said so.

If you’re someone who needs reassurance or is generally anxious/paranoid about anything he’ll go into long (often scientific) explanations to ease your mind and also throw in some fun facts.

Both a listener and a yapper. He loves nothing more than the sound of your voice but also loves being able to spout all sorts of things about his research and interests while you stare at him lovingly.

Can’t sleep unless you’re next to him. You don’t even need to be cuddling, your presence is just the one thing he needs to fall asleep.

That being said, he will NEVER pass up an opportunity to cuddle. Watching a movie? Cuddling. Working at his desk in the lab? Cuddling on his lap. Cooking something in the kitchen? He’s got his arms wrapped around you as he presses loving kisses into your temple.

He rarely swears, but when he does it always makes you do a double-take (and maybe giggle because it sounds so odd coming from him).

Probably tried weed once or twice in the '70s and was somewhat part of the psychedelic rock scene. Stan has some old photos of him during that time somewhere but Ford is absolutely mortified by the idea of you seeing him in bell-bottom jeans.

It doesn’t matter how long you two have been together, every time he sees you he feels the same as he did the day you two met. Ford will never stop becoming flustered at the sight of you.

Post-Weirdmaggedon he became very anxious at the thought of you being out alone or not being near him. He feels like he needs to be on guard at all times so that he can protect you. He eventually calms down after some reassurance from you and a fuck ton of therapy.

While he lacks some emotional intelligence he’s actually very attentive and knows exactly what you need when you’re upfront about your feelings. As long as you’re not vague and communicate, he knows what to do to help you.

Adding onto that, I think he briefly studied psychology in college so he’d have a pretty good understanding of any mental health issues you might have.

Said “No more Mr Nice Guy” one time and hasn’t heard the end of it from anyone.

NSFW

Has to stop himself from cumming too quickly when you tell him how good he’s making you feel. Stroking his ego (and other things) is the best way to get him horny.

Will always ask you for consent no matter what it is. You could be mid-fuck and he’d still ask if he could put his hands on your hips.

This is just my personal headcanon but I believe while he didn’t really have too much experience before he got stuck on the other side of the portal (probably hooked up with Fiddleford once or twice tho), I fully believe that after a few years of dimension-hopping, he would’ve had a few one-night stands (mans gotta blow off some steam). So when he gets the chance to fuck you, a real human from his dimension, he’s more than ecstatic, especially since he’s picked up more than a few tricks over the past thirty years.

Knows how to use all twelve of his fingers.

Since Ford was sucked into the portal in the early ’80s and spent thirty years in there, he’s super confused when you mention shaving down there or being embarrassed about your body hair (if you do either) since the last time he was around everyone preferred going all natural.

This one’s less sexy but I’m putting it here anyways. He avoided taking off his shirt for ages since he didn’t want you to see all the scars he’d gotten over the years or any of the tattoos related to the things he did in the portal, especially the ones related to Bill. Surprisingly not as insecure about his “Flirty Gal” tramp stamp.

Doesn’t understand that he’s ridiculously hot. 

You jokingly said “Yes sir” one time and he got hard so quickly.

Although he does rather enjoy you taking the lead.

Loves experimenting with cock warming and edging. Literally. He’ll time the both of you and have everything written down somewhere and draw a graph with extra info like if you’re someone with a menstrual cycle and how that affects the results.

[kypopkypop]

"Your so beautiful" "I know isn't she" "I was talking about you"

Changbin fluff coming home from the hospital

Warning: Body insecurities, just gave birth, reader get really upset and doesn't feel totally better at the end (I don't know if that really a warning, mentions of nursing/breastfeeding a baby (tell me if I missed something)

She doesn't really feel that much better at the end because I think it's unrealistic for the reader to suddenly feel better after something someone else says. Sometimes your just upset and you need to be upset to make your self feel better in the future if that makes sense. Also don't mind what changbin says I'm bad at comforting people so I tried my best. I think it lacking a little something but I'll try and make it better as time goes on and I get more into writing.

You were sitting on your couch holding you 2 day old baby girl. You had just come home from the hospital a couple of hours ago.

Birth is a very painful, stressful, and interesting to say the least. Your body had changed so much during your pregnancy but it slowly changed over 9 months. Giving you some time to get used to it as your body got bigger.

Birth is nothing like that though. Even if your a little chubby everyone thinks your super cute when your pregnant. Whenever people look at a pregnant person you don't think "hmm I wonder how much weight she's gained" you usually think "aww she looks so good for being 9 months pregnant, her body's creating a life".

After birth everyone losses that mentality but your body doesn't change for at least a couple of weeks. Not to even mention all the different hormones and emotions going through your body during this time.

You think of how amazing your baby girl is and how you would go through labor a thousand time again to have her. Then you look in the mirror and see every part of your self that you liked before you got pregnant has changed.

After having your baby girl your anxiety and depression worsened. It was hard for you to think of one thing that liked about your self. Your self confidence before getting pregnant wasn't super strong or anything but you've never felt like this.

Your mama bear instincts came out. You got so anxious when ever someone else was holding your baby besides your husband Changbin of course. You loved seeing him with her. It almost felt like your only purpose in life was to take care of this baby. You know Changbin would never leave you but it scared you what he thought of you know that you thought your body was "ruined".

Looking at your wonderful baby girl as she's fast asleep in your arms your husband comes and sits next to you. He sits facing you with and arm next to your shoulders. He starts admiring you baby girl too.

Then he looks up at you. You get a little freaked out from how long he was looking at you. You were trying to figure out what would make him do that. Your scared to fully look at him. Scared he'll see how puffy your face is and your dark under eye circles.

"Your so beautiful" he says. You can really hear the emotion in his voice. It almost sounds like he could cry

"I know isn't she perfect"

"I was talking about you" even though you were scared you turned you face to see him. The love in his eyes and the smile that shows up on his face when he sees your full face

"I'm never gonna look the same though. What if my stomach always stays this big. What if....." you start tearing up and you stop talking before you fully start crying.

"Y/n I know you've changed a lot before you got pregnant vs now. But the way I see you will always be the same. I didn't fall in love with you because of your body. No physical changes would ever make me stop loving you. And I know your hormones is making things harder emotionally but I want you to know that I will always be there. And if you ever need a reminder of how gorgeous you are just tell me and I could go on and on. You think our daughter is beautiful and when I look at her I just see a mini you."

You had a lot of tears streaming down your face at this point. Everything was just so overwhelming you couldn't talk. All the emotions of how you felt about your self being contradicted by Changbins words made your head feel like it was gonna explode. But you were trying hard to not let out a sob because you didn't want to wake your daughter.

Almost as Changbin read your thoughts he picks up your baby and puts her in the baby swing. He comes back and scoots you over so your on his lap. "I know it gonna take more than just once for you to believe me but I'll say it as many times as you need." He said as he puts his head and hand on top of yours. You let out the sobs that you were holding in. You hid your face in the crook of his neck as he rocked you. It made you feel like the baby but it really did make you feel better.

After taking some deep breaths to calm down you pull away to look at your perfect husband. He wipes you tears and tells you some more how much he loves you.

He tells you to lay down and take a nap to help you calm down. And being tired wasn't helping with how stressed out you were. It scared you to leave taking care of the baby all to him but he assured you. Anytime you needed a nap during the day that he would take care of her. You have been up all night nursing her. He tries to do as much as he can during the night but when your the only one who can feed her there's not much he can do. So he wants to make it up to you.

He tucks you in on the couch. And as you almost fall asleep immediately you hear him say.

"I love you and good night beautiful"

Also this is my first time writing so don't judge me to hard 😄 also thank you for reading.

[heartsofminds]

my life is changing every day, in every possible way

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” or It's Halloween, Bradley has a precocious eleven-month-old daughter, and he might be in love with her impromptu babysitter.

A/N: soooo here's a halloween thing that i kind of just threw together? i'm OBSESSED with bradley being a girl dad and just love this little girl i came up with (@gretagerwigsmuse knows that we love quincy in this household). anywho, enjoy some poorly written dadley and this super pointless halloween drabble? hope y'all had a good holiday and am sooo looking forward to writing more of this daddy/daughter duo !

“Whatever it is, Bradshaw, you’re not excused this time.” 

Jake Seresin slams his locker shut and shoves his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. The heel of his boot is kicked up, making a soft “thud” on the hollow metal as he leans his back against it. He crosses his arms to lie in front of his chest and adjusts his watch.

The small wooden bench screwed into the linoleum tile perches Bradley Bradshaw, who sits with his elbows digging into the tops of his thighs and his back aching something awful. He softly grunts before he turns to release some of the pressure there. The resounding crack it makes causes Jake to grimace a little before his face returns to the snarky default position it always seems to have. 

“I’m sorry I’m an adult? And have responsibilities?” Bradley rolls his eyes and traces his index finger around a watermark on the wood next to him. 

He notices his Nalgene water bottle sweating and subconsciously picks it up, using the bottom of his t-shirt to dry the wet spots it left in its wake. Jake and Natasha watch him without his knowledge and share a knowing look with each other, but remain silent. Sometimes it’s hard to determine if Bradley’s behavior is because he’s in a vastly different life stage than they are, or if it’s just a Bradley thing. 

Trying to figure it out makes everyone’s brains hurt so they often just let it be. 

The blonde groans again. “You say it like flying a billion-dollar aircraft every single day isn’t a huge responsibility,” he licks his lips before throwing his head back, “Can you take that huge stick out of your ass for once and let yourself have fun?” 

“I have a baby, shithead. I can’t just stop being a dad to go to a Halloween party.” 

Javy slams his locker shut and prances over to Jake and Natasha. A wrinkle in his eyebrows starts to form as he thinks over Bradley’s statement. He finds himself standing next to Jake; his stance is identical and his bargaining skills are tuned and ready to be used. 

“It’s hardly a party at all, man. It’s a costume, a couple of beers at Pen’s place, and maybe one other bar for like an hour,” he speaks and pats Bradley’s shoulder, “Live a little.” 

Bradley sighs; the puff of air housing a hint of playfulness and a hint of annoyance. He knows he’s already lost and that there is absolutely no way he’s getting out of it this time. And so help him God, he can’t believe he’s thinking this, but maybe what Jake and Javy are saying doesn’t sound like too bad of a plan. 

It would be good for him. It would be good them. It would be good for Quincy, and if any of the parenting magazine articles (that he’s kind of ashamed to have budgeted for paying for the subscriptions, if he’s being honest) had anything to say about it, children thrive when their parents are thriving. 

Besides, Penny and Mav have kinda been on his ass about it. Because yeah, she goes to daycare during the day and yes, she’s technically been around other kids and for sure has had her share of being around adults, but she’s one anxious biting attack away from being kicked out of daycare and all the people Bradley trusts (outside of Miss Charlene at the daycare who is a friend of Penny’s and was his babysitter when he was small) are up in the sky so he’s really running himself dry with options. 

Natasha calls it separation anxiety but Bradley calls it a bond. Which is true, Nat had agreed, but it wasn’t just about Quincy being attached. It was also about Bradley being just as attached, if not more. 

In the eleven months that Quincy Elaine Bradshaw had been on this Earth, Bradley hadn’t left her side for longer than four hours at a time. 

And he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never really had anyone to call his own before or if it’s a “Papa Bear” thing or if there’s some unexplained biological phenomena that won’t allow him to be away from his daughter without spiraling, but he hardly thinks its a problem. . . .

Except when he leaves on his lunch break to go see her at daycare and she’s in a fit of hysterics whenever his hour break is up and he has to return to work. Or when she’s eleven months old and has never slept by herself in her own room before (which is why his back is so fucked, but he’ll never admit it). Or when she’s biting kids and teachers because she’s so anxious she doesn’t know what to do with herself. 

So, yeah. Maybe it is a problem and maybe the root of it all is guilt. 

He can’t let his daughter out of his sight because he can’t help but feel guilty for raising her the same way he was and giving her a ghost that she never asked for – a parent whose approval she will always seek despite never knowing who that person truly is. 

Something about that makes him feel like he has to make up time for two as a punishment for only being one, and being the one who can’t provide her everything she’ll ever need as a growing girl and eventually as a woman. 

“I don’t know,” he says lamely. He wraps his finger around the loose thread on his t-shirt and pulls it in one fell swoop. 

“Okay, fuck. You need to get out. What do you need?” Natasha pipes up, rolling her eyes before sitting down next to him. 

He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth to answer but she cuts him off before he can. “What’s it gonna take? Do you need a sitter? A lobotomy? You need to live a little, dude.” 

“Well, we know the sitter’s not the issue. The kid’s cute as shit,” Jake speaks up and Bradley scoffs. 

“She’s so fucking cute,” Javy agrees and Bradley has to hide his grin despite being annoyed. 

He helped make the cutest baby ever. Who wouldn’t be obnoxiously proud about that? 

“Absolutely adorable. People are lining up to babysit her,” Reuben Fitch interrupts and joins the group of aviators which further puts a pin in Bradley’s desire to decline the invitation. Rueben doesn’t involve himself in Jake or Javy’s bullshit very often, but when he does, it’s evident that the idea isn’t absolutely batshit crazy. 

Bradley gives him a playful middle finger before straightening his posture and coming to the realization that maybe Jake was right for once. 

“Yeah.” Holy fucking shit. “Rueben’s wife would put her in her pocket and take her home if you let her.” 

And the golden rule is that if Bob is game for something, then everyone else should be. So now he really has no excuse to not go out on Halloween night because he has the Southern Californian equivalent of the fucking Pope giving his two cents on to why he needs to go. 

Fuck you, Bob Floyd for always being the voice of reason. 

“See? Everyone agrees. You’re the odd one out so it’s only fair,” Jake taunts again. Everyone around Bradley seems to be shaking their head in agreement to which he realizes that he’s stuck and there’s no way he won’t be in attendance to the group’s Halloween plans. 

“But it’s her first Halloween,” he tries to reason, “I can’t leave her alone on her first one.” 

Javy sighs. “She’s not even gonna remember it. Yeah it’s a holiday but she’s not missing out on much. She doesn’t even have teeth yet.” 

Jake laughs sarcastically. “Q-dawg’s been chompin’ away on all of her little daycare friends. Haven’t you heard?” 

Bradley narrows his eyes. “Fuck you! I thought you left the room when I was on the phone with the daycare.” 

“Her business is our business now, Bradshaw. Aren’t we allowed uncle duties?” Reuben teases. Natasha clears her throat to interrupt him. “And aunt duties?”  

“Auntie Nat reigns superior and we all know it, but holy shit. She’s biting people? How is she more badass than her dad?” Nat goads and shoves the back of Bradley’s head playfully. She chuckles at how slow his head pops back up and he mocks her laugh and sticks out his tongue at her. 

“Guys, c’mon. I can’t leave her with a sitter on her first Halloween.” Although he knows he sounds silly (and he feels silly saying it, too), his daughter is his best friend in some ways. Despite her not being able to walk yet and only having a vocabulary of a few words, he can’t help but know how deeply he loves her, and how much everything about her matters to him. 

“Then don’t,” Bob says, “Just bring her to Hard Deck for like an hour and then you can run home, meet the sitter, and then meet us wherever else we decide to go.” 

And sometimes Bradley hates how much sense Bob tends to make and wishes that he was wrong. That no, the Hard Deck isn’t a suitable place for a baby, and no, there’s absolutely no way Quincy would keep her cool while being there during one of the busiest nights of the year. 

But he knows it’s a lie because her grandparents are the owners, everyone loves her and fights over having their turn to hold her or even catch a glimpse of a baby smile directed at them, and the fact that Quincy has been to the Hard Deck enough to have developed an affinity for diluted cranberry juice over the Mott’s Tots apple juice sitting in his pantry. 

“Fuck, fine. But you’re finding me a fucking babysitter,” he speaks, pointing a finger between Jake and Natasha before standing up abruptly. He turns on his heel and makes his way toward the door, knowing the only way he can make sense of the predicament he’s put himself in can be solved by seeing his joyous baby girl. 

The sounds of muffled chuckles and shoes squeaking on the ground fill the silence of Bradley’s absence; all of their eyes flitting to each other to decipher if they actually made the most stubborn man alive give into their bidding with minimal effort. 

“Did we just make Rooster. . .cave?” Reuben speaks, his arms coming up to cross in front of his chest. His thumb rolls his wedding band around on his ring finger as he waits for someone else to speak up.

“Huh,” Jake huffs, “I think we did.” 

“So I’m guessing the lobotomy is out of the question,” Mickey ponders out loud, “Y’all better know a damn good babysitter.” 

Natasha and Jake’s eyes widen in realization. They better find a damn good babysitter soon.

Carrying a baby is harder than it looks. 

Bradley swears that his daughter is an eighty-year-old woman trapped in the body of a drooly and overly excitable eleven-month-old.

It's not the worst thing in the world, he figures. 

But God, is she giving his arms a workout from the amount of times she’s tried to contort her small body to get a good look at all the ruckus and excitement going on around her. It’s when Bradley feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck that he realizes the costume he’s picked may not have been the smartest move; especially when no one seems to get what he’s supposed to be. 

Secreting sweat by the gallon seems like an unfair exchange to be dressed in what he thinks is the greatest daddy-daughter costume of all time. The flannel shirt he has on and the overwhelmingly hot coveralls to go with it was a good idea in theory (that theory being how frigid the Halloweens he used to spend in northern Virginia were when he was a little kid). 

He finally makes it to the saloon-style doors of the bar and is met with “Thriller” by Michael Jackson playing from the overhead speakers above him. Every surface seems to be decked out in cobwebs and dark purple and neon green spiders, and Quincy stares in awe at all the patrons meddling about around her before making grabby hands at the faux snakes dangling around the jukebox. 

She almost slips out of Bradley’s grasp before being wrangled back to a stable position by her chunky rolled arms. 

“Jesus, girl,” he gasps, swallowing the lump in his throat while Quincy giggles in his face. “You tryna kill me here?” 

“Well look who it is!” Penny’s teasing voice sounds in his ears. 

Quincy’s little eyes catch the figure of her faux grandma and she begins to squeal in her father’s ear before reaching her arms as far out as they can go; reaching and moving so frantically it looks as if she’s attempting to swim in midair. 

Penny moves closer to them and raises her eyebrows. Her arms instinctively reach out and she grabs Quincy from Bradley. Her fingers trace the burgundy felt of her costume before she tickles the baby. Quincy erupts in a fit of laughs. 

“What has your crazy daddy got you dressed as?” she teases, her elbow coming out to knock Bradley in his ribs playfully. “Are you an. . .apple?” 

Bradley huffs and rolls his eyes. His gaze instinctively lands on his daughter who clasps her hands on Penny’s face and traces her chubby (and insanely sticky) baby fingers across her red lips. She puckers her lips and chuckles to herself at Quincy’s amazement of red lipstick. 

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” 

Penny’s eyes flicker between Bradley and the baby she holds in her arms. The splotchy rosy cheeks and honeyed hazel eyes tells the tale of twins, and she’s reminded of the little boy she used to casually see around Fightertown all those years ago dressed in different variants of the same dinosaur on Halloween. 

“Sweetheart, you’re saying it like it was the most obvious thing in the world,” she starts, simultaneously giving her attention to Quincy and the million and one different things going on around her, “I almost thought she was one of the cement balls outside of Target but realized the red was too dark.” 

He groans, his eyebrows furrowing together and a slight scowl forming on his face. Penny’s heart is warmed because his daughter has a propensity to make the same face when she’s frustrated. 

A beat absent of dialouge passes. Hoots and hollers fill the silence as well as strangers stopping by to coo at Quincy before being on their way to the pool table of their desire. Quincy babbles and talks as if she’s a lawyer prosecuting a case and Bradley’s heart softens at how animated she is. 

Her awkward tongue pushes out more saliva than what would be socially acceptable and the drool begins to gather on her face. He reaches out and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of his flannel while she flops like a dead fish away from the makeshift napkin in protest. 

God, this girl is so dramatic. 

“I handmade it,” he says softly. He runs a dry part of his sleeve across her lips more firmly to ensure he had gotten all the wetness. 

Penny hums in acknowledgement. “And you did good.” 

And he doesn’t know why he’s expecting it; why he’s waiting on Penny (of all people) to see him picking a scab and rub more salt in the wound. He knows that she would never do that and he knows that most of the people (if not all of the people who he considers close to him) see him that way. He knows that people know he’s trying his best and that he’s doing everything he can. 

Bradley knows but he just can’t make himself feel it, and he can never figure out why. 

Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad. Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad without a “real” mom or dad to show him the way. Maybe it’s because he’s finally gotten used to having someone around who relies on him and needs him and loves him unconditionally, and he’s terrified of doing something that will make her sit on a couch in a therapist office and say the words that he’s trying his best to avoid: “My dad doesn’t love me enough.” 

Bradley knows what it feels like to not be loved enough. Bradley knows what it feels like to not be liked enough. But Bradley doesn’t know what it feels like to not try hard enough, and that is something he is determined to never stop doing when it comes to his baby. 

“You’re saying it like I didn’t though.” 

Penny’s face falls and she shifts her gaze from Bradley’s daughter to him. 

“Oh, Bradley,” she sighs, her open palm coming up to cup his face, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re an amazing dad and you’re doing a fantastic job.” 

He grabs her hand with his and gives her a weak smile in return. 

“Doesn’t feel like it, though.” 

He’s usually not one for feeling sorry for himself. He’s never been too keen on throwing pity parties and inviting everyone he knows to them, and in all actuality, he doesn’t know why this bid for reassurance that he’s serving Penny is even coming up. 

“No. Stop it. No,” she playfully chides, tickling Quincy to make her erupt into a ball of silent baby chuckles. “You’re an amazing dad and everyone knows it. You’re her world and that’s all that matters.” 

Bradley opens his mouth to respond but can’t find the words to accept her compliment. He simply nods his head before the already loud noise of the bar is split by an even louder whistle. 

His neck cranes around to see his group of friends waving him over to the pool table and the anchored weight of doom starts to sink in his stomach. He remains frozen with his hands in his pockets and his body emitting heat from his personal heater of rubber waders. He feels like a seven year old at the park again; his mother standing before him and wordlessly encouraging him to go play and make friends. 

The high pitched scream of his daughter is heard as Maverick approaches. Both Penny and Bradley wince more and watch as his daughter mindlessly babbles and almost flies out of Penny’s grasp in favor of him. 

Pete smiles to himself before grabbing her from Penny. She rolls her eyes at him and he playfully sticks out his tongue. 

“Like father, like daughter,” he says, “M’never not a Bradshaw kid’s favorite.” Quincy sticks her chubby fingers near Maverick’s mouth and squeals as he pretends to bite them. 

“Did the past fifteen years just. . .not happen?” Bradley quips. In the past, the snarky comment would have made Maverick freeze on the spot but since they’ve repaired their relationship, (and Quincy’s frequent stays at Nana Pen and Papa Mav’s on the weekends) the insult rolls off Maverick’s shoulders into oblivion. 

“You’re making fun of the old timer, but I’ve been havin’ myself a grand ole time and you’re in the corner pouting like you’re in timeout,” he comments back, “Don’t you have friends or something?” 

“I’m just – taking my time to get over there.” They all look as Jake lets out an obnoxiously loud holler after hitting the eight ball into the pocket to win his pool game. “M’trying to choose joy tonight.” 

“And choosing bad costumes too.” Maverick holds his granddaughter out in front of him to get a full fledged look at her costume. She kicks her legs in the air gleefully before he pulls her back to his chest. “Who makes their kid the…Target balls?” 

Bradley lets out a groan and rubs at his temples. “Oh my God! She’s a cranberry!” 

“Love you to pieces, kid but I think you need your vision checked. You can’t put a kid inside a red sphere and call it a cranberry,” his finger comes out to poke his granddaughter and he’s met with a giggle, “A quack doesn’t always mean duck.” 

“Aren’t you, like, 5’4 –” 

Penny interrupts the conversation with her hands and quickly grabs Quincy from Maverick’s hold. He flashes her a small pout and is met with the ice cold glare of his girlfriend. 

“Bradley, go talk to your friends, babe. We’ll bring her over in a second,” she says, squeezing Pete’s bicep to drag him with her to the bar. 

“But –” they both begin to complain in unison. Penny gives them a pointed look that immediately shuts them both up. 

“Let’s go get some cranberry juice! How does that sound?” she asks Quincy who begins to smile and clap her hands in approval. Penny turns on her heel to head to the back while Maverick stands frozen in front of his nephew. 

“Do you really think I’m only 5’4?” he meekly asks, genuine concern covering his face. 

Bradley shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. The paper  “Ocean Spray” label he’s taped onto his waders bends and he mentally cringes at the crease he knows will probably be there. 

“I mean, sometimes when you turn to the side it’s hard to imagine that you’re actually 5’7.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“I said, let’s go get some juice!” Penny’s yells, annoyance dripping off her tone. Maverick claps Bradley on the shoulder before retreating to go accompany Penny in getting Quincy copious amounts of diluted cranberry juice. 

With Maverick’s departure, Bradley realizes that he actually has to go interact with his friends. After all, they’re the reason that he’s here. But when he takes in the swell and dip of the loudness that is contingent on the World Series playing on the televisions around him, he wonders if he’s made the wrong choice tonight. 

He imagines that he would’ve taken Quincy up the street to trick or treat at a few houses before her impatience and curiosity made her lose interest in the activity. They would have abandoned trick or treating and ended up on the couch where she would be cuddled up beside him with her feet tucked somewhere in between his ribs (because she seems to have a talent for finding the most tender spots on his body to lay) and stroking the tip of his mustache with her perpetually sticky fingers as she begins to doze off. They would be probably watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown before her bedtime came, and she would be read three books, tucked in, and off to sleep before he caved and pulled her from her crib and let her sleep with him in his bed. 

While it’s mundane and certainly not what he would have considered the epitome of “fun” even two years ago, he feels a weird ache in his chest knowing that he’s missing out on that reality. But he has to snap out of it if he doesn’t want to be miserable and ruin everyone’s night. 

Besides, Jake and Nat promised him free drinks all night and they already found him a babysitter and paid her for him. He’s in too deep to back out now.

Bradley takes a deep breath before approaching his friends and tries to ignore the ringing in his ears as Jake and Mickey scream as the Texas Rangers score their first homerun of the game. 

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Reuben teases, forcing a beer into his hand that had been on standby until Bradley’s arrival. 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too excited,” he deadpans before moving around the group and telling everyone hello. 

He’s met with joy and little jabs about graduating to “old timer” status that he playfully ignores. Bradley knows that they’re all just joking with him and that they mean no harm by their comments. Even he’s slightly surprised that he went through with coming out tonight; not to mention coming out while wearing a costume. 

His eyes catch Jake slyly handing over a twenty dollar bill to Javy accompanied by a middle finger before he turns his attention to Bradley. 

He can already sense the half-assed greeting he’s about to get from him before Jake even begins to speak. 

“Got a lot of questions for you but I’ll start with this one,” Jake begins and Bradley rolls his eyes before he finishes his statement, “What the fuck are you supposed to be?” 

He groans before pointing to the crumpled “Ocean Spray” label taped to his front. “Fucking Christ. Does no one know where the fuck cranberry juice comes from?” 

Jake laughs before taking a long swig of his beer. His ridiculous belt buckle and cowboy boots tell Bradley exactly what he’s supposed to be. Well, that and the fact that for as long as he’s known Jake, he’s always the same thing every year for Halloween. 

Leave the Texan to always be a cowboy. 

“My first guess was one of the guys from “Deadliest Catch” but since you wanna be a diva about it. . .I’ll just pretend like the Ocean Spray farmer was beyond fuckin’ obvious” he takes a long swig from the beer bottle he has in his hand, “But that’s not important. Where’s our girl?”

Bradley sighs and looks around near the back of the bar where he knows his baby is being given the spotlight by all the older Hard Deck patrons that can’t believe that, “Little Bradley Bradshaw has a baby now!” He’s known that he’s always had a knack for attention, but his daughter lives for the limelight. He’s never known anyone in his life to be so incredibly outgoing, nevermind the fact that Quincy is already the life of the party and she can’t even speak coherently yet. 

“Pen and Mav took her to get cranberry juice,” he emphasizes the word and Jake rolls his eyes at him this time instead of the reverse, “They’re gonna bring her by in a bit.” 

Natasha makes her way over to the two men; extra smiley and smelling like she had bathed in tequila. Natasha always parties hard but never lets it keep her down. Her ability to drink liquor like a fish and be perfectly fine the next morning has always been a mystery to Bradley. She’s called Phoenix for a reason, he knows. 

“Bradley!” she cheers. Her dark hair is hidden by a copper colored wig and he almost wouldn’t recognize her if he hadn’t known her face so well. The green eye makeup and the plastic vines wrapped around her shoulders and legs cue him into the fact that she’s dressed up as Poison Ivy.  

“Hey!” he cheers back, matching her enthusiasm. 

“You’re the fisher guys from “Deadliest Catch”! That’s so clever!” 

Bradley’s face drops and Jake begins to lose his composure beside him. Natasha’s eyes immediately soften with worry and she starts to search for the words to profusely apologize. 

“No I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings! I swear it! I was just – I thought — I think that it’s really cool and the overall thingies look great on you! I’m so sorry,” she word vomits and Jake continues to laugh hysterically. 

“Nat, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” he speaks gently, “Just calm down a little.” 

She takes a deep breath and Bradley can physically see her brain wipe the incident away as if it had never happened. He’s been her best friend for years and knows what she looks like when she’s close to being black out drunk. There’s maybe a thirty-five percent chance she even remembers this interaction at all. She blinks blankly at him before getting distracted by the baseball game and almost topples over with how fast she turned her head. 

Jake lightly smacks Bradley’s chest with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna go grab her a water. You want anything?” he asks, gently. He doesn’t want Natasha to overhear him because they both know that she’ll refuse his help no matter what state she’s in. 

He shakes his head “no” before hearing the clunk of his boots carrying him to the bar, leaving him and Natsaha alone in the pocket of the bar that their friend group has claimed as their own.

Natasha’s eyes follow Jake’s path to the bar and Bradley has to hide his grin and hold his tongue to not set her off while she’s so vulnerable. Natasha has always been the tiniest bit sweet on Jake but is too stubborn to admit it. Even with all the logical circuits in her brain turned off, she refuses to let herself ponder on this fact for longer than a few seconds. She catches herself staring at the blonde in a half-assed Halloween costume before she returns her attention to Bradley. 

And just as expected, she changes the subject as if their earlier conversation had never even happened. 

“Where’s Quincy Wincey?” she asks and Bradley chuckles. 

Even with no coherent thoughts in mind, Natasha still loves his daughter and wants nothing more than to see her. 

“She’s behind the bar with Pen and Mav. She’ll be here shortly.” 

Natasha nods before opening her mouth again. “You know, you’re a great dad, B.” 

Her sudden revelation takes the words out of Bradley’s mouth. He’s known Natasha Trace for nearly fifteen years and he has never known her to give out genuine compliments half-assed. He has half the mind to ask her what she means by it, but knows that it’s no use given the state she’s in. 

All that matters is that she really means it, so he settles for a simple “Thank you” instead. 

Jake announces his return by forcing a cup of ice water into Natasha’s hand which she gripes about but begins to drink anyway. 

“Your daughter’s back there chummin’ it up, by the way,” Jake states simply and Bradley pauses. 

“What do you mean?” His hands come out to rest on his hips. 

“Well, for starters,” he begins, unwrapping a toothpick and putting it in his mouth, “She’s got people handing her candy and peanuts into a little paper bag. She’s being pretty efficient about it if I say so myself. Had half the mind to grab her from Mav while I was up there cause I wanna see her, but I didn’t wanna get in the way of her business efforts.” 

“She’s what?” 

“Paper bag. Candy. Peanuts,” Jake lists, “C’mon, man. Keep up!” 

Bradley stalks toward the bar to go get his daughter. He’s not angry, in any sense of the word, but kind of disappointed given that she’s technically trick or treating for the first time and he’s not there to witness it. Part of him is starting to feel restless at his lack of interaction with her and wants her back in his arms immediately. 

“Hey, don’t insert yourself in her business endeavors! Be happy your daughter is likable. We all know she doesn’t get it from you,” Jake shouts before returning his attention to the World Series playing out in front of him. 

By the time Bradley arrives to the bar top, he takes note of exactly what Jake had seen upon his visit. There is his daughter with ruddy cheeks and a toothy grin absolutely hamming up her cuteness at some captains and their wives with Maverick holding her up so she can stand semi-confidently on the table. Her little fist holds a brown paper bag that Penny uses for her peanuts and is full with candy and crinkled due to her lack of a proper graspar reflex. 

His daughter is a world class charmer and she has an equally charming grandpa to help her do her bidding. 

“Bradley!” Maverick cheers, turning Quincy his direction so that she can have eyes on her dad. 

Like magic, she abandons the little bag she was holding in favor of the arms of her father. He grabs her without hesitation and she glues herself to his side as if it’s her permanent position. 

“You better not be making my baby a con artist, Mav,” he weakly threatens. He coos at Quincy and marvels in the way she lays her head on his shoulder. 

“Hardly. She’s a people magnet, kid. Everyone would be happy to do anything she wanted them to do.” 

Bradley sighs, knowing that he’s missed one of her milestones. This is the price he’ll have to pay forever with being a more than single parent with the kind of job he has. He swallows the disappointment down and saves it for later. He knows that it’ll come up another time anyway, so why even bother with addressing it now? 

“You’re treating my kid like a Kennedy, Mav. Don’t get any ideas on how to sneak her onto base to get you out of trouble.” 

Pete laughs and holds up his hands in defeat. “Can’t make any promises,” he simply says, “Don’t you have to go meet the sitter soon?” 

Bradley groans at the gentle reminder his uncle is giving him. Maverick doesn’t know what it’s like to be a parent in the slightest, but he knows what good parenting looks like. He had seen it with Goose and how much he had cared for Bradley in the very short amount of time he was given, there’s no doubt in his mind that Bradley is the best dad that Quincy could ever ask for. 

But what he also knows is how perfectionistic and borderline obsessive his nephew can be. He deserves a break and a break Maverick knows will be spent in good company with people who love him. 

Bradley deserves this, and he knows that Mav’s gentle reminder is more of an order telling him to be kind to himself. 

He looks down at his watch and sees the little hand inching towards the eight. “Yeah. We need to get going.” 

Pete leans over and gives Quincy a kiss on the head as a “goodbye” before shoving the paper bag of candy into her father’s hand. 

He closes his hand around Bradley’s fist and gives it a firm shake. “Have fun tonight. You deserve it.” 

Bradley nods before bidding goodbye to Penny who is beyond excited at the idea of Bradley finally going out, baby free, for the first time since he found out he was going to be a father. 

And when his daughter incoherently hums along to “The Girl is Mine” by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney in the backseat, Bradley knows how hard leaving her alone tonight is truly going to be. 

She shouts at him which he knows is her trying to get his attention to sing along with her. 

“You ready, babe?” he asks, eyes flitting up to peek at her in his rearview mirror, “Because, the doggone girl is mine.” 

Quincy bursts into a fit of baby giggles as he tries to ignore the feeling of impending doom brewing in his chest. He grabs a piece of chalky bubble gum from her candy bag and pops it in his mouth. He cringes as he chews. 

Who the fuck gives gum to a baby? 

Bradley doesn’t know why his heart is pounding out of his chest. 

He knows that he’ll only be gone for two hours maximum and that Quincy will probably sleep the entire time anyway. She may be precocious and charming, but she loves bedtime more than anything, and from the active night she’s had, he’d be surprised if she even made it fifteen minutes before passing out somewhere on the living room floor. 

He trusts Natasha’s judgement (and Jake’s, he’ll begrudantly admit) and he knows the sitter they found for him is nothing less than amazing. You’re a childhood friend of Natasha’s that had recently moved to the area and had been Jake’s date one time to the Navy Ball six years ago (which he had learned from an Instagram post dated from 2017). 

And Bradley will say he doesn’t know much about you (outside of his deep dive stalk that he had done days before, but that remains beside the point, he thinks) but that would be a big fat lie. He feels a little pathetic to admit that he had created a faux LinkedIn profile to be able to look you up and see your credentials as well as finding every mutual follower you had amassed between Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Bob. 

And it’s a little creepy, he admits, but he’s only just looking out for the safety of his daughter! Just because you know his friends doesn’t mean that he knows you (which he knows is wildly untrue given the overwhelming amount of Internet stalking he had done on you in the past week). 

Bradley is burning a hole into his living room floor by pacing back and forth with his daughter in his arms. As anticipated, she’s started to doze off and he chuckles to himself. Quincy loves bedtime and that remains uncontested by the way her little lips are pursed and she lets out light snores. 

The sound of a car door opening and shutting keys him into being aware of your presence and he scares you half to death because he opens the door before you can knock; your knuckles almost coming into contact with his chin had you not been paying attention. 

“Oh,” you mummer, “Ummm. You’re Bradley, right?” 

And you’ve never felt as dumb as you do now because of course he’s Bradley. You know what he looks like and the baby asleep on his shoulder and the last name “Bradshaw” printed on the doormat outside should be enough for you to deductively reason that that’s him right in front of you. 

Not to mention, you’ve been Internet stalking him and know what he looks like for a fact because of the amount of photos Natasha has of him on her Instagram and in her story highlights. You had always found him attractive whenever your eyes graced those pictures, but that’s all it was; a fleeting thought that was never watered and was gone as soon as it was there. 

But now that he’s in front of you, now that you’re getting a really good look at him holding a precious baby on his hip and somehow making rubber waders look amazing, your mouth starts to get dry and your heartbeat starts to quicken. 

“You must be the sitter,” he declares and he mentally kicks himself for how cold he’s coming off. His nerves have a tendency to put him into fight or flight and the pressure of being in your presence merely adds to that. 

He clears his throat when he notices your lips forming a thin line and rejection teeming from your body language. 

Fuck. Why do I always do this? 

“Oh! Uh – Come in,” he steps aside and closes the door behind you as you walk in. 

From what you know about Bradley, you know that he’s a single dad who had a less than stellar record for wanting female companionship. When Nat would come to Williamsburg to visit you all those years ago when you were fresh out of undergrad and working as a TA, barely scraping enough money to pay your rent, she would lay on your floor and crone about how she had a friend who never seemed to be able to keep a girlfriend. 

But he was amazing, she would insist, and he’s such an awesome person, she would say. Somehow though, Bradley always seemed to be heartbroken and searching for the next way to smash what little he had left of it into unsalvageable pieces. 

Even though that was close to a decade ago, you know that the fact remains true when you peer across the pictures in his living room. Photos of a blonde couple and a dark haird little boy that you know are his parents. Photos of him with the infamous and insane Maverick. Photos of him with his daughter, but no photos of him and his daughter’s mother; let alone a girlfriend of any kind. 

“So she’ll probably sleep the entire time. Don’t put her in her crib because she’ll scream bloody murder and not calm down for a long time so you’re free to keep her on the couch or put her in my bed,” he lays her down in the corner of his couch and puts the large blanket laying there on her lower half, “She’s allergic to strawberries but I don’t think she’s gonna be eating anything while you’re here and I don’t have strawberries in the house.” 

He pauses, wracking his brain for more information to tell you that wouldn’t just be him retelling his daughter’s entire life story. “Oh! This is kind of weird, but if she wakes up and won’t go back to sleep, just play “The Girl is Mine” –” 

“The Paul McCartney song?” you question. Your eyes search his face and are full of amusement. He can’t help but feel his chest flutter at the little glimmer they give off. 

Focus. You can’t flirt with the babysitter. What’s wrong with you? 

“Well, it’s Michael Jackson’s song featuring Paul McCartney but yeah. It usually calms her right down and she’ll settle enough to doze back off.”  

He knows that his daughter is more than quirky. Sometimes he settles for the word “particular,” but he knows quirky is the right one to use. 

You start to laugh a little. “That’s so –” 

“Weird?” he inserts, “Yeah, I know. I’m raising a sixty-year-old but there could be worse songs. Be grateful she’s phased out of only wanting to listen to “Break Free” because there’s nothing worse than listening to EDM on a loop at three AM because she won’t fall asleep unless it’s playing.” 

You shake your head and agree. “Well, I promise that we’ll behave ourselves and not get into anything too crazy. She’s adorable, you know, so if she asks, I don’t know if I can stand it to say no.”

You can’t flirt with her dad. You can’t be the babysitter that’s trying to get banged by the dad. What’s wrong with you? 

He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll see to that. Her sitter is pretty cute too so I think I’d be pretty forgiving.” 

And fuck. Is he, is he flirting with you? 

You’re left speechless before his phone rings and he rolls his eyes before grabbing it off the entryway table. 

“Hang on a sec,” he says before swiping across the screen to answer. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Jake. I’m on the way.” 

He grabs his keys and starts heading toward the door, his cell phone wedged between his shoulder and ear and you have to stop yourself from drooling. “Calm the fuck down, dude. I’m leaving like right now. . .Yes, I’m literally walking out the door – Can you chill? I’ll be there when I get there?” 

He bids you goodbye with a simple wave before shutting the door and running to his car. The sound of the front door closing instantly wakes Quincy who shoots her head up and frantically swivels it around in pursuit of her father. When she can’t spot him, her bottom lip droops and starts to wobble. 

He bids you goodbye with a simple wave before shutting the door and running to his car. The sound of the front door closing instantly wakes Quincy who shoots her head up and frantically swivels it around in pursuit of her father. When she can’t spot him, her bottom lip droops and starts to wobble. 

She spots you and immediately lifts her arms up, telling you that she wants to be held. You graciously comply and coo softly to her and marvel in the way she instantly koalas to your side as if she had always had a spot there and had always known you. 

Part of you thinks that it’s fate. That in some way, you’re meant to be in her life and meant to stick around but you know that this silly schoolgirl thinking will only get your heart smashed to pieces. You decide to ignore it. 

Besides, Natasha would kill you if you ever expressed to her how hot you found her other best friend. 

Some things just aren’t meant to be. 

Bradley jogs into the next bar that his friends had decided to go to with a slight smile on his face. He scans the crowd and spots Jake and Bob trying to hold up a beyond inebriated Natasha. 

“You’re awful happ — Oh dear God. Don’t tell me you screwed the sitter,”  Jake greets and Bob looks away bashfully once the statement leaves Jake’s mouth. 

Bradley mocks him before helping them guide Natasha to a booth. 

“Can you ever just say "hello" like a normal person? Do you always have to be bitchy?” he remarks. 

Jake lets Natasha rest her head on his shoulder and looks down to check on her. “It was just a comment. You know we picked her because we wanna set you guys up, right?” 

Bradley’s world stops. He raises his eyebrows and feels his mouth go dry. 

“You what?” 

“I mean, she’s cute. She’s smart. She loves kids and she obviously didn’t vom on you from getting a look at your face, so I assume it went well,” he starts listing his reasonings on his fingers, “You also bounced in here like you have a can of jumping beans shoved up your ass so you’re giddy about something.” 

Bradley scoffs. “I do not have anything shoved up my a– Why do you care so much about who I’m seeing?” 

Jake looks at Bob who starts to shrink a little in his seat. He instantly knows that the set up wasn’t all just Jake and Nat. It was probably the entire squadron. 

“We want you to be happy, dude. I mean, this is a good opportunity for you and for Quincy,” Bob starts and Bradley knows that he needs to listen and take it into actual consideration if he knows what’s good for him. 

Jake and Natasha are class A meddlers, but everyone else getting involved shows how much this matters to him.

“You’re doing great and I know for a fact I’m not half the man you are, but you also gotta cut yourself some slack. You have to let yourself be happy, too. Life isn’t all just about sacrifice, you know?” 

“And we made a reservation for you both at that one rooftop restaurant downtown. There’s a $250 cancellation fee so you kinda have to go,” Jake adds and Bob facepalms himself at their friend’s lack of tact. 

“You did what?” 

“Also she thinks you’re hot. She texted Nat about you ten minutes ago and she’s way too drunk to respond so we did for her and as of now, “He totes thinks you’re hot too. Make a move when he gets back.”” 

Bradley’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the words to say. 

“Thank us when you’re getting us together about the proposal.” 

There’s something about the way that life flashes before your eyes and there’s never anything you can do about it. 

You can take photos or collect trivial keepsakes. You can talk about the events in past tense and have the story change slightly every single time the words leave your mouth. You can dream about it in watercolor memory and try to make sense of it all. 

But no one ever tells you what it means when you’re standing before your daughter, a dark haired beauty with such elegance and spunk that it’s impossible to put a label on it, as she embarks on a journey to truly be her own person. 

No one ever tells you how to cry so you don’t smudge your mascara. No one ever tells you the hole in your heart this day will give you but the rainbow of joy that supersedes it when it’s all said and done. No one ever tells you how all the times she had a nightmare or scraped her knees or needed you sit at the forefront of your brain. 

And when you stand before your daughter dressed in a white dress and getting married to the love of her life, you can’t help but recall the night that you fell in love with her and remember the little baby she was all those years ago. 

So around all the orchids and wedding guests and happy tears, you settle to retell this moment in the only way you know how. 

“The first time I met my daughter, she was dressed as a cranberry.” 

And somehow, that statement is all you need to explain the love between the two of you. 

[jkslipppiercing]

So show me | Part 1 | jjk

♡ summary: your boyfriend has always been a fan of PDA, unlike you.

♡ genre: angsty, not really fluffy, a lot of frustration, miscommunication

♡ pairing: boyfriend!jk, frustrated!jk, whipped!jk

♡ warnings: oc is self-conscious, both of them are severely frustrated, not much in this lol, little bit of cursing, y/n is super horny, suggestive content.

♡ WC: 2.5K.

♡ a/n: well hello again! i'm back lol. this is the first part of the "show me" series! i hope you like it <333 this is my first go at angst, and im trying to ease myself into it 😭😭 i have zero clue as to what im doing please help <3

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enjoy!!

"That'll be $22.50."

You smile sweetly at the cashier, opening your purse to pay.

Handing over the money with a grin, you thank her.

"Can I get it gift-wrapped, please? That would be great."

Christmas is about a week away, and the holiday vibes are clear as stockings and ornaments hang on every wall of the store. Decorated christmas trees shine with bright colorful lights and the festivity of the shop you're in makes you feel warm on the inside, in addition to the amazing smell of cinnamon.

On that note...why does it smell so good in here?

Christmas has always been your favorite holiday, multiple reasons why. one of the many is spending time with your loved ones...and buying them gifts.

Something about seeing them so happy just makes you feel happier by ten-fold.

The cashier smiles in return before she nods, holding the item as she turns her back to you and starts wrapping.

Meanwhile, you take the time to admire the little details of every single decoration-taking it all in- just when you feel a presence behind you.

Jungkook steps close, engulfing you in a tight embrace and humming softly. You welcome the feeling of security, humming back at his body warmth as he back-hugs you.

"Hey baby."

you giggle. "Hi."

"You done shopping?" He asks from above you, his chin pressing into the tip of your head. He had drifted off earlier on and left you to do your shopping, telling you to call for him if you needed any help.

"Yep. I asked for gift wrapping. Should be done in a few."

"Mmm, good."

Jungkook hums, dipping his head down. he inches towards your neck, resting into the crook of it and humming in a deeper- more suggestive- manner.

The sole sound has you kind of- blushing? Even though your cheeks never got that red, your eyes water and your breath hitches. You call it 'blushing' in your book.

He always does that kind of hum when you're doing a good job pleasing him...stuffing his cock-

His hands that were once wrapped around your arms and trapping you now release, only to circle around your waist instead, this time more intimately.

You love these kinds of moments, though you can't help but notice that the cashier is almost done wrapping your gift.

You find your eyes glued to her movements, almost anxious.

Jungkook's hand inshes dangerously close to your tit, and you grow slightly self-conscious in response, eyes still set strictly on the cashier's hands.

Her seeing you and your boyfriend in this situation would be kind of...awkward?

It's not that you don't appreciate the affection, you've just been more of a private person. Always loved to show love when alone, but never been a fan to do so publicly.

Jungkook, though? If PDA (Public Display of Affection) was a person? It would definitely be him.

Trying to voice out your thoughts, you whisper to him.

"Jungkook."

"Hm?" Again, that oh-so-beautifully-deep hum.

Fuck.

He snuggles his head even deeper into the crook of your neck, making it harder for you to think.

"We're in public."

He raises his head a tad bit, so you can hear him better.

"We're the only people here."

"Still, the employee could find it uncomfortable-"

"Are you uncomfortable?"

You're not.

You love jungkook.

Of course you're not uncomfortable.

You just care about people's opinions...a little too much.

Privacy is your thing, and you've always stuck to it- making sure not to make anybody feel a certain type of-

"Oh."

When you take too long to respond, your bad habit of overthinking the simplist of things pulling you under, jungkook's arms slip and waver.

He stays silent.

Jungkook was never silent.

He completely untangles and detaches himself from you.

"That's not-" You try to explain yourself, but the cashier beats you to it as they turn around and walk over to you.

"Here you go."

You accept the neatly wrapped box and thank her, rushing to leave. Your breath catches in your throat when you see jungkook already through the exit of the store.

You fucked up.

---

Under any other circumstances, you would've welcomed the pitter patter of the rain against the car's surface with wide, open arms.

But instead, you want to shrink; let the world split in half and swallow you whole.

Jungkook hasn't said a single word since you've left that store.

He went straight to his car, waited for you, then directly drove off as soon as you got into the car with him.

Not. A single. Word.

You observe him, taking note of how automatic- distant- his actions are. With one hand on the steering wheel, he rests the other on the armrest as he stares straight ahead. It's like he can feel your gaze burning a hole to the side of his face, but he's numb to the heat. Your eyes beg his own to look, but his are deaf...far; so far away.

You shouldn't have stayed quiet.

Mentally groaning at your stupidity, you lean your head against the window.

The rest of the ride home is silent.

---

"Jungkook."

No answer.

"You can't keep ignoring me like this."

Well, he can.

He proves that to you when he lets the barbell join the floor with a hard thud.

Only a small grunt of triumph escapes him, but otherwise; silence.

He hasn't spoken to you.

He parked the car under your apartment building- in its usual spot- exiting the car and heading to your home.

-silently.

He entered the apartment and left the door open for you, changed into his usual workout attire, and headed into his personal gym.

-silently.

It has been an hour since he's been in here, not sparing any effort to check on you.

You're getting quite frustrated with him. It's just- unreasonable.

He has his reasons for acting this way- you'll give him that- but where'd all the communication go?

You've been with Jungkook for well over a year now, and it feels weird; whatever this is. It hasn't ever happened before, probably because a similar situation has never occured.

You'd always hold hands in public, and it was never a problem for you.

But as a first real relationship...guess you were growing self-conscious about it.

What if they saw?

Will they speak?

Your train of thought cuts off as the sulking man grunts again, this time louder; intended to grasp your attention back to him.

He must've seen you zoning out.

"Enough, Jungkook."

Your words leave a tangy taste on your tongue. You really don't want to argue with him what-so-ever, but this is ridiculous.

he's being ridiculous.

You two could've talked it out to figure what the problem was- you should.

Instead, you're running after a person that keeps looking back to make sure you're still there.

He wants you to feel like you're genuinely being ignored, which is just- again- unreasonable.

Okay, the earlier...incident hurt him a little bit- and maybe a little more than that- that much is evident.

Jungkook merely scoffs at your words,

yet again ignoring you.

Fucking hell,

he's actually pissing you off.

"Giving me the silent treatment?" Your eyes sharpen with challenge, and his own light up with one of their own.

He leaves whatever he was doing to cross his arms and properly stare you down, almost belittling you- no, not almost, he is.

You've always known just how much Jungkook loves a challenge.

"Fine by me." Your smile is so sweet- but it's wrong. It's not the kind of smile he's used to.

And with that, you exit the gym, grab a random book, make yourself a cup of coffee, and prepare yourself for the long night ahead.

---

It's been...two hours.

Two long hours of utter torture.

And you've read a total of five pages.

Dammit.

Instead of reading, you're embarrassed to admit how instensely you've been ogling him for two hours straight.

He's just so hot.

The way he lifts weights like they're nothing.

The way his groans and grunts fill up the quiet space- and the whole entirety of your thoughts, leading them to other, much more sexual, places.

The way those exact sounds resemble the ones he's likely to make during sex.

You can basically feel your underwear sticking to you, your arousal evident.

For the first time since you've sat on this bench, stubbornly so, with your book and cup of coffee, he flicks a gaze over you.

Indifferently.

It makes your blood boil.

Your eyes lock.

his cold,

yours set ablaze by intense emotions of frustration.

You rip your gaze away from him to set it on your book, only to look back up at him two seconds later.

He slings a towel over his shoulder, grabs a bottle of water and unscrews the lid.

gently placing the bottle on his lips, he opens his mouth and chugs a mass of water all at once.

He repeats the motion once...twice... and your eyes are glued to the way his adam's apple bobs.

A thick lump forms in your throat, your breaths quickening. Must be...horniness.

You take the chance to properly look at him;

hair ruffled, body hot, muscles bulged.

Theres a slight sheen of sweat highlighting his neck, and a vein pops out from the way he's angling his neck up.

Your senses heighten.

He sets the bottle down, only to turn to you.

You try your best to hide the hormones.

Your eyes then trail down his neck to his collarbones, and you almost drool.

Scratch that, you're definitely drooling.

He looks fucking divine.

Well, of course.

He always does.

He looks as divine as it feels to love him.

You've always loved Jungkook. You still do. From the moment he waltzed into your heart with no foul intention and swept it off its feet, you knew you were absolutely done for.

Wrecked,

Ruined,

No longer containing any available capacity in your whole being to love anyone else.

Anyone but him. Even saying you love him more than you do yourself wouldn't be over-exaggerating...it would be true.

Call it obsession?

So be it.

A subtle scoff turns your attention back to him; body erect and all guarded up, his body language almost makes you tense up yourself.

You know for a damn straight fact that this is going to lead to an unpleasant conversation- even more so an argument- but whatever it is that's sizzling between you two like static electricity needs to die down.

It was never like this.

Tension,

Frustration,

Miscommunication.

"Bold of you to stare at me like that." His eyes never leave yours a second when he speaks.

He locks his hands behind his neck and rests them on his nape. His forearms bulge, and your eyes physically hurt from how hard they're trying not to gape at him.

Knocking his head back, he stares at you through his lashes with hooded lids and the most beautiful dark eyes.

You would've found the sight quite attractive- you do- but the subtle dig aimed at your staring attracts your attention more.

"Better get used to it, then." You stand, maintaining a protective stance yourself.

You're not angry, or...defensive, thought you might be a little shameless.

You just want this to end. For everything to go back to the way it was.

He smirks.

Your eyes harden.

"Oh yeah?" He lazily strides in your direction, and you cross your arms, almost acting nonchalantly.

Your irritation is evident and so is his, but the tension is so heavy on your shoulders, it makes your muscles tense.

His steps shorten until he's only a few feet away.

Not too close,

Not too far,

Yet feels like hundreds of miles apart.

"Wonder where that's coming from."

"Guess you'll have to find out."

This time, it's you who smirks when a sudden spark of challenge ignites in his irises.

"What i'd like to find out," He lowers his voice, his tone calm; in contrast to the dark storm reflecting the thoughts of his mind through dark, fogged up orbs. "...is what the hell on earth it was that happened today."

You stare at him, contemplating your options.

"I felt self-conscious."

The response is quick, but you're satisfied. You want to be completely honest. That's the best way to go at it.

You notice how he blanks out before you look away. Almost like he's fighting with himself over what to think of the response, his eyes portray the most intense feelings of complexity.

Quickly covering the slight feeling of confusion with frustration, his brows tug together, and in another context, you would've found the action to be adorable.

"Self-conscious? About us? What-" He scrambles to understand, and your eyes widen by an inch. "-are you- like- not sure about us? Anymore?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" You directly jump to answer his questions with one of your own. Your own brows join together, and the frustration builds further.

"Fuck, y/n." He gives you his back, walking in the opposite direction.

"What- I didn't even mean it like that!" Your voice raises slightly, purely in expression of desperation.

Why is this so complicated? It wasn't even that big of a deal.

He looks at you over his shoulder, his features bitter.

"How did you mean it then?" He scoffs, but his words come out quiet, serious, and clear of sarcasm. They come out hurt.

"Look- I just-" You take a deep breath, staring at the floor. "I don't want to fight."

You look at his feet, directing your gaze to a place where your mind doesn't feel overwhelmed. When you look at him, you want to look at his eyes, nose, lips...all of him. When you look at him, you see nothing but him. The whole world disappears when you do.

When you look at him,

You can't think about anything but how much you love him.

And right then it's like the whole world stops.

Like it's just you and him, in this gym, with nothing and no one else but each other.

"Fight?" His eyes rage with a thousand different broken emotions all fighting over dominance at once.

He shifts closer to you, only eager to show you the true weight of his love for you.

His index finger hooks under your chin and tilts it up to meet his eyes, only making your breath catch.

"I'd drop to my knees and beg if you wanted me to."

You feel your eyes water. There's nothing you could possibly think to say to him in this moment, except...

"I love you."

He returns a sad smile.

"Show me."

He cups your cheek.

Strokes it with his thumb, once.

Twice.

And in his presence remains a cool gust of air as his touch lingers and leaves a fire awakening.

Just then you realize: the fire that seems to spread further and further is that of love, nestled in between the teeny crooks and tiny nooks of your heart; the wildfire seemingly one of pleasurable pain.

Gone is jungkook, and welcomed is the loneliness as you hear the shower turn on.

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[hellodropbear]

like she used to (bonus)

alexia putellas x sister

part I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII

it's been well over a month since I finished the last part of like she used to and started this chapter, i'm so sorry for the delay!

a week after i posted the last part i was on a run in the national park near my house and it is between two beaches (literally my favourite run ever) so very sandy and uneven and i was running alone and tore my acl/mcl lol so I have been preoccupied with that stuff.

i'm super fucking pissed as well because i was supposed to have state cross country in a couple weeks (first season in the open group) AND my reconstruction is scheduled for like two weeks before peak surf life saving season so i'll probably miss the whole summer and into autumn AS WELL as the competitions we do throughout the summer.

anyway i had to quit football and dance because of a back injury so if this means i have to quit xc and/or sls i'll be super sad.

rant over and here is a new part of like she used to, a popular request of when elena meets olga

:)

~~~~~~

I was a lot littler when I met Jenni. She was tall and had heaps of tattoos littered around her body. Her arm's weren't dissimilar to Mapi's, but they were better at picking me up - either to restrain me or comfort me.  

The first time I met her was on the pitch, on Mapi's shoulders at the end of a game for Spain. I think I was about 6, too big to be carried around like that, but my resistance was ignored and Mapi had pulled me up anyway. 

She was shouting and chanting as she walked around the pitch, making me squeal in laughter as she tugged on my leg and made joke after joke. She only quietened as we approached a bunch of chatting footballers. I had met most of them before, but Jenni was there, the only one I didn't recognise. 

I distinctly remember Mapi tugging me down and holding me up on her hip, pointing at Jenni. She knew I didn't know her, she knew how anxious I became when I was introduced to new people so she made sure I was secure in her arms, my head pressed against her neck.

"Ah! The baby Putellas!" She smiled at me - that friendly, toothy grin that quickly became so familiar. 

I leant back into the familiarity of Mapi, mumbling my response quietly. 

"Not a baby." 

Mapi had laughed, ruffling my hair and planting a kiss on my head. 

"She is six now. You're so big, mi pequena!"

My gaze never left Jenni, still curious about the unfamiliar woman standing in front of me. Mapi must have noticed, because she continued to speak when nobody else did. 

"Elena, this is Jenni Hermoso. She plays here with Spain and also Barcelona with Ale!"

I nodded, smiling shyly at Jenni. 

"I have seen you at home, Elena, but your sister likes to keep you safe and away from all of us players."

I looked up at Mapi, uncertainty written all over my face. She leaned down to me, whispering in my ear. 

"Jenni is a striker for Barcelona, she plays very well."

"Not as well as you, Mapi!" 

She had chuckled softly, kissing my head again. 

"Tell Jenni that."

I looked back up at the dark haired woman, a shy smile on my face. 

"Mapi plays too! She is a defender. I want to be a defender when I grow up and become just like Mapi."

Jenni chuckled as Mapi adjusted her hold on me, allowing her to pull me closer as she wrapped her arms around me. 

"Who knows. Maybe if you get to know me better you'll grow up to become one of the greatest strikers of all time."

I don't remember what happened next, but both Mapi and Jenni laugh when they retell the story of me scrunching up my nose and shaking my head, confident that defence was the only area I would consider going into. 

From then on, Jenni became a familiar face. One that I would recognise at Alexia's games and approach shyly, blushing as she pulled me up onto her hip and walked me around the pitch. 

It was a welcome surprise when Alexia arrived home from training one night, Jenni right behind her with a bashful smile on her rosy face. She sat beside me at the dinner table, sneaking the food I didn't want to eat and making me laugh by kicking Alexia's leg. 

She quickly established her role in our family, and I quickly realised how much I liked having her around. 

She started to pick me up from school, driving me to my own trainings, kicking the ball with me in the back yard when she got home from her training. She was like another sister and as I grew older I began to confide in her like she was related by blood. 

So when Mami told me they had broken up, I was distraught. It was bad enough that she had moved to Mexico, but when she came back to Spain and didn't visit our house, it felt like I had lost a sister. 

Because that's what she was; a sister. 

Mami or Alba must have told her how upset I was though, because she sent me a text not long after, apologising. 

I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye, pequena. I love you so much and I will miss seeing you all the time. I can't wait to watch you grow into a brilliant defender and I have no doubt you will be just like Mapi like you said you wanted to be all those years ago. I am so proud of you and I am always rooting for you and always here for you if you ever need me. 

I had cried over that message, I hate to admit. But it was when everything started to fall apart; when I was beginning to question everything I knew about myself and my family. My emotions were high and I think Jenni disappearing from my life tipped me over the edge, sending me into a raging ocean, swallowing me and spitting me right back out again. 

It's ok. Spain will miss you. I'll miss you a lot as well. Sorry you couldn't convince me to become a striker like you.

~~~~~~

Meeting Olga is different. 

There's no Mapi holding me, right there to carry me away if I want to leave, to comfort me if something goes wrong or to kiss the top of my head to remind me of her presence. 

There's not much comfort left in Alexia either, she is still trying so hard to build back our relationship but for some reason I am struggling to let her. 

I can't confide in Alba, because she met Olga months ago, when they first got together. Mami thinks she is brilliant. 

Of course I have stalked her instagram, my heart racing as I struggled to understand how my sister went from Jenni Hermoso to this girl. Mapi told me it was bad to compare the two, and bad to judge Olga before meeting her. 

They are friends, Mapi and Olga. She became defensive when I said that I don't care who Alexia is dating anymore, that it won't make any difference to my life anymore. 

She told me that I should give it a try.

I told her I'd do it. I told her I'd do it for her. 

~~~~~~

Ingrid dropped me off at my home, sensing my reluctance to head in and reassuring me it would all be ok, that Olga is great. She told me that if I need, I can just send her a text and she will get me to take me back home. 

They didn't want me to leave their apartment, Mapi and Ingrid. Mapi worries a lot, I have found, and had many lengthy discussions with Mami about my wellbeing, how it had declined so quickly and the crash had slipped right through Mami's eyes. 

"She needs to stay somewhere that she can receive the love and care that she hasn't had, Eli! It's not your fault you are busy, but I am not. I can take care of her while she is still vulnerable and then in a couple months, we can rethink."

I wasn't supposed to be listening to their conversation, but Mapi's temper had been rising and her voice became louder as a result. I closed my door again when she finished, not wanting to hear what Mami had to say. 

I held bagheera hostage and wept into her fur, and she stayed with me all night, still asleep by my side when I woke up the next morning, Mapi knocking on my door with breakfast, ready to confirm that I would be living with her indefinitely. 

She said that she was going to help me and look after me. She said she was always there if I wanted to talk, if I wanted to cry, yell, laugh. She said I was going to be ok with such confidence, like there wasn't a doubt in the world. 

"This will just be a blip, pequena. Everything will be ok soon, and I will be right here making sure that time comes."

But, despite my reluctance, she wouldn't take no for an answer when she found out about this dinner tonight, about meeting Olga. 

They are all already sat around the table when I enter the kitchen, slipping my shoes off and walking over to where Mami is sitting, dutifully planting a kiss on her cheek before moving back to my spot beside Alba. 

"Hola."

Alexia looks at me. Alba looks at me. Mami looks at me. But I am focussed on the new brunette sitting across from Alba, waiting for her to make eye contact. 

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Elena."

She looks up at me hesitantly. 

"I know. I'm Olga. It's nice to meet you too, Elena."

I can almost hear the collective sigh of relief around my dinner table as I sit down, still focussed on Olga. I have nothing left to say though, so I am grateful when Alba picks up a new conversation. 

I provide input when necessary, but I am more focussed on Olga than I would like to admit, my eyes straying over to her a bit too frequently. 

She seems, nervous? Maybe. It could be that she doesn't like the food, the way she is picking away at it. But Mami cooks the greatest paella I've ever eaten, and I've heard from Alba that Olga loves any types of food. 

The other and more likely option is that she's nervous because of my presence, which is an idea I am entirely uncomfortable with. But it is almost confirmed in the way she avoids eye contact through the whole dinner, and I feel deflated as I traipse up the stairs and into my room, sitting on my piano stall for the first time in months. 

It's been almost two months since that day. Two months since I left this house, running as far as I possibly could from the darkness it trapped me in. 

I don't like to think about that day, about how I felt in the days leading up to it and the days after it because how am I supposed think about how I felt when I didn't feel anything?

Things have changed so much since then. I made my debut for Barcelona. My sister apologised. I have started living with Mapi and Ingrid, closer to training. I have stopped going to school after my therapist told me it was too much. Everybody knew that quitting football wasn't an option. 

I haven't touched a piano since that day, so the keys feel cold and unfamiliar underneath my fingers. My chords are dissonant and my rhythms are erratic and unsteady. 

It feels like I have lost my touch, and I can feel that connection I had with my father drift further and further away from me as my fingers continue to improvise. I resort back to the first song he ever taught me, a little nursery rhyme but the familiar notes destroy me in an entirely different way, memories flooding through my head, Papi sat beside me on the stall helping me, my sisters and Mami squished on the tiny office couch behind us, cheering me on and singing along. 

My hands retreat from the piano before I get too frustrated and instead, I let my eyes drift up to the picture that has hung above it since it was moved into my room. 

Shaking hands reach forward to pluck it from my wall, and it sits in my lap, my head dipped as I stare at it, memorising every tiny detail. 

I was so small, wrapped up in my sisters' arms. She looked so excited to have a new baby sister, the smile on her face is unfamiliar to me now. 

Alba is beside her, staring down at my tiny body, as if she was printing the image of me into my memory. Mami is gazing at the camera, smiling with her hand wrapped up in Papi's, her head resting on his shoulder as he stares lovingly at his three daughters, his eyes full of tears. 

I quickly wipe away the tear that drops onto the glass, inhaling softly and letting the air leave me once more. My eyes close and I try not to picture how different my life would be if he hadn't of died, if we were still a happy family of five. 

I wonder sometimes, if he would have let the family divide, form a big crack that could be glued together so many times but never completely fixed. Never back to how it once was, always more sensitive than it should be. 

I don't think he would have. 

At least that's what I tell myself. 

I am still staring down at the picture when there is a soft knock on my door, it creaking quietly as Mami pushes it open. 

"She is very happy to have met you, Elena."

I frown, my eyebrows crinkling. It didn't feel like that. Mami speaks again before I have time to come up with a response. 

"But she doesn't know how to bond with you, because she thinks it is her fault that you and Alexia fell out. She thinks she is the reason that you are so sad."

I shake my head. 

"It was long before she came along."

"I know. I know it was."

She sounds guilty, and I know her well enough to know it is because she wishes she did something early on. She wishes she did something at all, that much she has told me. She regrets leaving Mapi to pick up the pieces and try and glue me back together. 

She knows that Mapi has struggled though, because she does not have enough hands to hold the million pieces that I was shattered into together. She can not do it alone, but is reluctant to let me go somewhere else. 

"This is the best place for you at the moment, pequena. Your Mami and sisters are a phone call away, but I have so much time to make sure you are ok."

I heard her talking to Ingrid that night, telling her how worried she was that if I did go back home, if I went to stay with Alexia or Alba, everything would go back to how it was. 

They had agreed that night that they could provide me with the love and care they think I need, that wasn't given to me at home. 

"Can you tell her that she doesn't need to think that? I don't want her to treat me different to Alba or you."

I turn around to face her and notice the single tear that threatens to fall from her eye. 

She has been emotional recently, ever since she came to Mapi's to see me. She cried a lot then, apologising, telling me she was a terrible mother. Telling me that Papi would be ashamed of her. 

Something tells me she cries a lot when I'm not here, the silence that echoed through the house where loud laughs or cries once sang out swallowing her as she eats, sleeps and sits alone. 

"I think you should talk to her, Elena. It would mean a lot to her and to Alexia. It would make things better for the both of you."

~~~~~~

Mami's words follow me for the next few days. 

When Ingrid picks me up, I force a smile and tell her everything went well. Mapi is harder to convince, but I tell her I am tired and head straight up to bed. 

I think about Olga, what I could say to her. How I would even meet up with her. 

She seems nice, and I do want to get to know her, to get along with her. And I think this is the only way to get past the initial awkwardness. It's not like she would come to me. 

It takes me two weeks to build up the courage to go see her, and the only person who knows is Mami because I had to ask for her address. She was happy, I could tell over the phone, encouraging me that it was the right decision, that I was good for doing this. 

I tell Mapi that I'm going to hang out with an old friend from school, but catch the bus out to Olga's apartment instead. 

She lives in a small Barcelona house, a few steps leading up to the large front door. 

I ignore the nerves that flare up inside me as I walk up the stairs, my hand barely hesitating over the doorbell. 

I resist the urge to run and the door creaking opening is the final confirmation that this conversation is happening now. 

She seems surprised to see me, but her initial shock is quickly masked by an awkward smile as she invites me inside, offering me snacks, drinks, a meal. I decline, perching myself on the edge of her sofa after she sits down. 

She looks at me intently, waiting for me to initiate some sort of conversation, but the words aren't coming out. The words I have been brainstorming for the past two weeks seem to have flown out the window as soon as I entered the apartment, leaving me with nothing to say. 

The length of the silence is verging on the edge of being awkward, and Olga clears her throat and speaks instead. 

"It was nice to meet you the other night, Elena. I had heard so much about you and I have been looking forward to meeting you for so long." 

She beamed at me, and I smiled back sheepishly, still unsure what to say. 

I hesitate for an embarrassingly long time, before words finally come to me. 

"Sorry."

Confusion flashes over her face and her mouth opens to speak, but I beat her to it, elaborating. 

"You were probably looking forward to meeting me and I left as soon as dinner finished."

"It's ok." 

She answered too quickly, and I flickered my eyes towards her. A small smile sat on her face, and she had relaxed into the cushions of the sofa. 

"I have thought about what I wanted to say so many times, but I have forgotten how I wanted to start."

I chuckle sheepishly and she shakes her head. 

"You don't need to worry, Elena. I don't want you to be scared of me, or what I think. I just want to know you, and I want you to know me."

"I- It's just- I don't know. You know about everything that's happened... with me and Alexia?"

She nods hesitantly and opens her mouth to speak but again, I beat her to it. 

"It's not your fault. Like, not at all. Mami said you think that and it's not true. It is a lot older than that, all the way back to when Ale and Jenni first broke up."

I didn't really know what reaction I expected from her, but I did not think she would relax so visibly. Her entire body loses any remaining tension, and she releases a loud, long breath. 

"Thank you, Elena. For saying that. She's told me how much you mean to her and how badly she screwed up. I didn't want to be the reason for that. Mapi has mentioned vaguely how it hurt you, and I didn't want to be the reason for that either."

I shake my head.

"You don't need to worry about it. It's not because of you, and it's getting better now. Slowly. I'll be ok."

"I know you'll be ok." 

Her words come out in a whisper and she continues when I look at her in confusion. 

"I have heard a lot about you, Elena, but most of the time, it is about your strength. Everyone says how strong you are, how resilient. Everyone is so proud of you, of who you've become and it is so hard for them because you are the only one who can't see it. You are the only person who doubts yourself. Alexia blames herself and I blame her too."

Her words hit a chord that hasn't been hit in a long time. People have said that to me so many times, in so many different ways. They tell me I am strong, resilient. That I am a hard worker and that I persevere. Usually, it means nothing to me, just more words that are said out of obligation, to try and please me. 

But Olga's words are full of emotion that I can practically feel radiating off her. She means it, I realise. She isn't saying this to make me feel good, or because Alexia told her to. 

She is telling me this because she wants to, because she wants me to hear it, to understand it. 

"I don't blame Alexia for anything any more."

She shakes her head. 

"You should. Because everyone else knows it is true, that her neglect impacted you in ways that cannot be reversed. Things she did that left marks that will never go away and it will haunt her. It already does. She loves you so much. So much. But sometimes she will start crying and I just know it's because she is thinking about you."

There are tears in her eyes, and there are tears in mine. 

And then the tears slip down my face and she is quick to pull me into a hug. 

"You didn't deserve any of this and I am sorry that I didn't do more to stop this. You tell me it is not my fault, but I did nothing. Absolutely nothing. And for that, I will blame myself."

I shake my head again.

"It was not your responsibility."

But I know she knows that, I know what she is trying to say. 

And maybe if she had done something, said something, things would be different. 

But the cracks were already there and they would have remained no matter when Alexia came to apologise. 

I am in a good place. 

Alexia and I will be in a good place soon.

There is nothing anyone can do to change what happened. 

"Thank you for being there for Ale. I know she's had a hard time too."

~~~~~~

lol hope you enjoyed (this has barely been edited so will probably go through it in the morning again)

i'm not kidding this chapter has taken me so so long and I really don't like it but i have written, edited, deleted and rewritten for so long so this is the best we're getting for now

if anyone has any other requests for this fic or an entirely new one let me know!

i have ideas for a new fic coming though so we'll see when I get round to finishing one of those chapters :)

[springseasonie]

Blackout | KDY (M)

Established relationship, Fiance Doyoung x fem reader

Summary: The powerful storm outside knocks your power out even though Doyoung assured you it would be fine. Luckily, he bought candles the day before just in case this happened. But even with the candles to light the dark house, you were still a bit anxious about the storm, so Doyoung decided to distract you for a bit

Warnings: sexual content, unprotected sex, breeding kink, softer dynamic, fluff (I think idk), proofread but may still be errors

Word count: 3,2k

Song recs: get you by Daniel Caesar

A/N: wrote this listening to the cutest kpop gg music you could imagine. Literally listening to achoo by lovelyz rn (stream) please lmk if I missed any warnings. Feedback is loved and appreciated

"Are you sure everything will be fine out there? It's looking pretty serious." You stood by the window of your living room staring outside at the storm.

"Well I don't know for sure, but what I do know is that you shouldn't stand near the window like that." Doyoung grabbed your arm pulling you away from the window. "It's night time so hopefully nothing too crazy happens. Are all the flashlights up here?"

"Yeah." You turned to Doyoung who put his hands on his hips with a concentrated expression. He was always so cute like that. "Babe, we're gonna be okay. There's no need to-"

The room went completely silent as your vision was impaired with the sudden blackout. All that you could see was the trees moving in the strong wind and power lines flying in different directions. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, turning on the flashlight to see in front of you.

"Babe? You still there," you said loudly, looking around.

"Yeah I'm just getting the flashlights and candles," he called from the kitchen.

"I didn't even know we had candles," you laugh.

"I bought them yesterday just in case." You pointed your phone in the direction of the kitchen, seeing him walk back with his hands and arms full. He placed all the stuff on the coffee table with a big sigh. "Wanna help me light them?"

"Of course." You sat on the floor next to him between the couch and the table. Doyoung handed you a lighter and the two of you started lighting the candles "you're always so prepared."

"In life, you always think 3 steps ahead." He placed the candle in the candle holder, carefully putting it on the table. Doyoung reached to pick up another one, but was distracted by how pretty you looked in the lowlight. Your features were soft, and the way you picked up everything was delicate.

You turned to ask him something, but was quickly humored when you caught him staring at you. Doyoung looked away from you super flustered by it. His cheeks turned a bright shade of pink, making him cover his face. You snickered as he whined in his hands from the embarrassment. Even after dating him for so long, he was still embarrassed like a middle schooler.

"Don't be embarrassed," you teased, poking him softly. "you're so cute, you know that?"

Doyoung groaned, earning a soft laugh from you. "stop, it's embarrassing."

"It's not." You continued lighting candles listening to the rain pick up outside. You set it down before turning to Doyoung who was still hiding his face. You ruffled your hands in his hair knowing that would be the only thing to make him come back to you.

"Don't mess up my hair, I spent so much time on it today," he whined, moving your hand gently.

"It still looks good. Looks like the aftermath of a long week," you said, winking at him. Doyoung, who was already flustered enough, gave you nervous laughter. "You know..these candles are kind of romantic."

"You think so," he asked, a small smile on his face. He stood up m, taking 2 candles with him setting up the room.

"Mhm," you answer. You finished lighting the rest of the candles and stood up to help Doyoung put them around the first floor. "Maybe we should be romantic while we have the chance," you laugh.

"Do you think we're still gonna have to work tomorrow?"

"Hopefully not. Hopefully a tree falls in the middle of the street. Okay…I'm all done." You turn to Doyoung who was finishing up the candles right along with you. The room looked nice and lit up like this. It reminded you of a room in a dark academia movie with all the books and papers lying around. Doyoung looked good in the low light too. The slight silhouette of his body in front of the candles was so pretty. He was so pretty, and it was starting to do things to you.

You and Doyoung sat on the couch together snuggled into one another under the throw blanket. You nuzzled your head between his neck, inhaling his cologne that you loved so much. You felt Doyoung tense up a bit, squeezing you closer into him as the storm picked up. He knew you didn't like storms very much, and you were starting to get a lot more anxious as time went on.

"You okay," he said quietly.

You nodded, planting a small kiss on his jawline. "It's getting really bad out there."

"I know," he said, kissing your forehead. "Don't worry about the storm, okay? I'm here."

"I know I shouldn't worry…but what if the tree in the backyard falls or the one across the street? What if-"

Doyoung turned your head to face him and kissed you deeply. He cupped your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You pulled away from him, looking up at him with adoration. He was always so sweet, never wanting you to worry about a thing.

"Don't worry about what's going on outside," he said quietly.

"Well, now I can't worry about anything because of you." You smiled, glancing at his dimly lit lips. "I think we should take advantage of this romantic setting. What do you think?"

"I think you're right." Doyoung smiled before kissing you again, capturing your lips in a heated exchange. You kiss him back, moaning softly into his mouth. Your hand finds its way to his chest, holding his shirt softly.

"I bet you were thinking about this all day," he mumbled against your lips.

His voice was so deep and raspy and you could hear the smirk in his statement. It gave you butterflies, and they immediately went right to your core. You wanted to just kiss him for the time being, just in case something bad happened outside or inside. But the way he was kissing you, the way his fingers softly glided on your arm - you needed him.

"Do you think you can distract me some more," you mumbled. You pulled away from his lips, kissing his face softly. You could feel his beard growing back and still smell the expensive skin care he loved.

"It's almost like you read my mind."

You and Doyoung move yourselves on the couch, him under you and you on top of him. Doyoung could never get over the way you looked at him. It made him feel warm and fuzzy. Not once have you even made him feel unwanted or unloved, and he hoped that it would stay that way forever.

"You're staring again," you giggle softly.

"I know." Doyoung took one of your hands and clasped them with his, squeezing it tight. "You're so beautiful."

"Don't get sentimental on me," you whine softly, but the smile on your lips was wide. You always got shy when he started complimenting you out of the blue. Doyoung was big on words of affirmation. He always had to tell you that he loves you, or anything that showed his love for you in general. You loved it because no one ever made you feel as special as he did.

"I'm not being sentimental, I'm just telling you." Doyoung kissed the back of your hand, making you even more flustered than before. "But I'll stop talking because I know you just want my dick in you."

"You didn't have to put it that way," you laugh. You leaned down, kissing him softly. Doyoung placed his other hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh softly. Doyoung let go of your hand and placed both of them on your hips. Unconsciously, you started to grind on top of him, lips never leaving his. His hands followed your movements, pushing his hips up to get more friction.

The sound of the rain breathing the windows created the perfect white noise for you to put your focus on him. You pulled away from him, leaning lower to kiss his neck.

"God, I love you so much," he sighed.

"I know you do." You came up and pulled your shirt above your head, throwing it on the floor in front of the couch. You reached to your back, unclipping your bra. Doyoung's gaze never left your body, watching as the fabric fell from your skin exposing your chest. Every time felt like the first time. It didn't matter how many times you undressed yourself in front of him, he would still get excited and nervous all at the same time.

"I'll never get tired of this," he mumbled, eyes going straight to your chest.

"I hope you don't because I'll never get tired of you," you said softly. You lift Doyoung's shirt tugging it up. He lifts his arms helping you get the fabric off of him. You toss the shirt next to yours and shuffle off his lap to remove your pants. Doyoung started doing the same. His hands clumsily undid his belt, fingers unable to properly hold the leather because of how sweaty his fingertips were. You watched him, laughing softly as you moved his hands gently, undoing his belt for him.

"Why do you still get nervous every time," you laughed.

"Because it's you."

Your hands are on his zipper when you stop and look at him. You leaned in, kissing him quickly with a small smile on your face. "We might as well get married now since you wanna be all cute and romantic," you tease.

"But if we do that, you won't get your big princess wedding." The both of you laugh as you pull off his jeans and boxers. You run your hands down his chest, making his breath hitch in his throat slightly. The way your nails raked softly over his skin - he wanted to put a baby in you right at this moment.

You had almost completely forgotten about the storm at that point, just focusing on Doyoung in the candle light. But like always, your small fears had to betray you in some way. You glanced out the window, immediately becoming worried again seeing the trees sway in the wind and - wait, is it hailing now? The loud sound of the balls of nice hitting your window and car in the driveway confirmed your thoughts, making you knit your brows.

"I think it's hailing now, Do."

"I know, but don't worry about it, okay." Doyoung put his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Don't worry about anything. Just lay back and let me take care of you." Doyoung gently laid you on the couch, lifting your legs. You and him had discussed having children before, conversation always ending in "I don't know" or "maybe," but right now he was feeling like the answer should be "definitely."

You laid there watching him as he lined himself with your core, eyes lost in the wetness between your legs. Doyoung pushed himself into you, a sigh of relief and pleasure falling from both of your lips. Doyoung moved his hands from your thighs to your ankles, holding them tight in his hands. Your brows knit once he starts thrusting, moving in and out of you slowly.

"You remember that conversation we had about kids," he asked, breathing heavily because of the pleasure.

"Mhm," you nod, lip between your teeth.

"I..I changed my mind, I want one… now." Doyoung's other hand found its way to your core, fingers gently toying with your clit as he thrusted. He felt you shiver under his touch, soft moans filling the space of the quiet room. "Wanna put a baby in you so bad.."

You nodded, only half listening to what he was saying. And in all honesty, you wanted it too. You needed it. "Please Doyoung, put a baby in me," you moaned softly.

Doyoung kept thrusting in you slowly, breathy groans leaving his lips. His eyes followed your hands as you brought one to your chest, pinching your nipple, and the other to Doyoung's hand that was in your clit. You followed his movements, pressing his fingers on your clit harder. "Fuck," you whispered. "Faster baby."

Doyoung let go of your ankles, allowing you to readjust yourself on the couch. He leaned down, kissing you passionately as he thrusted. His movements were sharp and deep, the sound of skin slapping playing over your ears instead of the worsening storm outside. You cupped his face, moaning on his lips.

"Fuck..right there," you whined softly.

If he could, he would get your face at the very moment tattooed on his brain. You were so pretty, you were always pretty no matter what. But something about your face when you were under him, letting yourself be vulnerable despite your usual introverted nature was so fascinating to him. You always crumbled at every touch, every word, every sound. And to make matters better, you looked angelic in the candle light.

Your arms were now around his neck, forehead resting on his as the both of you moaned. Doyoung's arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He needed to be chest to chest with you, feeling every breath you took. Doyoung slipped into the crook of your neck, planting messy kisses on your sweaty skin. You whimpered in his ears, hands in his hair.

"You sound so pretty baby," he mumbled on your skin. "I love it so much."

"D-Doyoung.." The way his name rolled off your tongue almost sent him to the moon. You clenched around him slightly, earning a small raspy whine from him. Doyoung took your left hand and pinned it on the arm of the couch above you. He clasped his hand with yours, squeezing it tightly as if he would lose you if he let it go.

He kissed you once again, tongue dancing with yours. He was so desperate for you and you could feel it. You always felt it, and it always turned you on even more. You never knew Doyoung to be a person who loved physical touch, but after you started dating him, he was like a completely different person, especially in bed. He borderline worshipped, and while it was overwhelming in the beginning, you grew to love and crave more of his attention.

Just as he pulled away, the sudden sound of thunder roared through the sky. The sound was so strong, you felt your house shake at the sound’s vibrations. The sudden noise made you jump, making Doyoung pause his movements for a moment. "You okay," he asked worriedly, scanning your face.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. "I'm okay, it just surprised me a little." You have him a quick kiss moving your arm from around his neck to cup his face. "Keep going."

Doyoung started thrusting again, a low grunt in his throat feeling you squeeze around him again. You were still cupping his face, finger tips lightly brushing his skin with every movement. Doyoung squeezed your hand again, wincing slightly at your nails digging into his skin. Doyoung started fucking into you harder, pulling louder sounds out of you.

"That..that feels good," you said between pants.

"How good baby? Tell me." Doyoung leaned into you neck, teeth nipping softly at your skin. His arm was still wrapped around your back, rubbing circles in your waist.

"Really good," you whimpered. "I'm so close Do."

His brows were knit when he lifted his head from your neck. Doyoung canned your face, a small smile tugging in his lips. He could always tell when you were close. You always tend to cling to his shoulder or grab whatever you were holding tighter, and this time it was both of those things. Your hands gripped his hand and shoulder hard, nails imprinting on his flesh. "Look at me when you cum."

You nodded, trying your best to listen and be good for him. You felt yourself become small under Doyoung's intense gaze, gulping when you felt your body begin to tense up. "Baby, I..I'm gonna.."

And just like that, you came hard squeezing around him hard. Your moans filled the room, body trembling under his when he pulled you closer.

"That's it Y/N. I know that felt good," he cooed. "Where do you want me to cum?"

"Inside me," you panted. "I wasn't kidding earlier."

"You sure? I don't mind doing it but-"

"I'm sure Doyoung." You kissed him, smiling against his lips when he kissed you back harder. Doyoung started thrusting into you again, a shudder falling last your lips. You were already sensitive from cumming first, every movement started feeling like an electrical current flowing throughout body.

"Fucking hell," you moaned loudly, throwing your head back at the feeling.

"Just a little more baby. Can you take it for me?"

"Anything for you." You were slightly slurring on your words, too overtaken with pleasure. Doyoung kept rocking his body at a steady pace, but his movements were getting rougher and rougher. He dropped his head in the crook of your neck, soft moans and whimpers leaving his lips closer and closer to his orgasm.

"Cum in me Doyoung. Make me yours."

That's all he needed. Doyoung came inside of you hard for the first time. The both of you moaned together, the warm liquid spreading inside you. Doyoung clung to your body, still holding your body close to his like you would run away from him. His breathing was heavy along with yours, breaths tickling your neck. Doyoung let go of your hand but stayed on your palm simply resting it.

"I can't believe we actually did that," he said giving you a soft tired chuckle.

"Well I can." You kissed the top of his head, nuzzling your nose in his hair.

"Are you..sure you're okay with me cumming inside you? That seemed like such a heat of the moment thing," he questioned.

"It was, but I don't regret it."

Doyoung lifted his body off of yours, staring down at your tired face. You had a happy, content look on your face, like you waited for this to happen. Just when he was about to say something thunder roared again. He looked over to the window, seeing that the hail stopped and all that was left was horrible rain. This time you didn't jump because you were so distracted by the mere thought of a mini Doyoung running around your house.

"The hail stopped.."

"I love you."

A soft laugh escapes your lips speaking at the same time as him. You licked your lips, smiling at his flustered expression. "Why are you getting embarrassed?"

"You said that out of nowhere," he said, blush spreading across his cheeks.

"Your naked and inside of me. And when you pull out, your-"

"Okay, okay. I get it. I shouldn't be embarrassed about it," he chuckled. Doyoung kissed you softly, smiling in your lips. "I love you too."

"Good. Now what are we naming our children?"

Doyoung gave you an amused look, trying to lift himself off your body only for you to pull him back down. "Y/N, we'll talk about that when I get off you."

"But I want you close," you pout.

"Okay, fine. If we have a girl, I like the name Sarah," he said, giving into your question.

"And a boy?"

"I just want girls."

"Do, that's not how it works-"

"I said what I said."

[oozedninjas]

hi i have come for your soul i adore your content...,,

might i request a little blurb about the 07 guys stamina ? like how many rounds they can go , for how long, when they could go again, etc.. thatstuff

sincerely the cockwarm req person i luv you very much <3 have a greatday - 🐛

Hi babe, nice to see you around again!

2007 NSFW(ish?) / 18+ / boys are mid to late twenties /

Leo

Good habits, such as getting enough sleep, exercising, and proper rest, are crucial pillars to build powerful stamina. Leonardo accomplishes all three in his regular training sessions (which also include meditation).

Taking the latter into account, his stamina is probably the highest among all his brothers. I think he might be able to go from three to five times in one session, maybe two in a row, and after some rest, the other ones. It also depends on his mood or the situation he's in.

Pent-up stress gets relieved like this, for instance, and you could swear he can go all night. But on nights when he feels more romantic, maybe one or two are enough.

It also depends on his partner. I can't think of any version of Leo who wouldn't care if you're hurting. So, if you can only go one time, one time it is.

10/10

Raph

As beefy as he looks and with a jawline reminiscent of a sex god, I believe two is his limit, maybe three if I'm being generous.

Excessive exercise without proper rest might cause him to get tired more easily after a couple of rounds.

However, he lasts long.

I think he has a pretty good level of resistance, so if you're going for positions that require a bit of extra effort, he's your man of choice.

9/10

Donnie

I think that with the proper rest between one session and the next, he can climax about three times.

Yet, what's more important for Don is that his partner has a good time, and he tends to focus a lot on their needs.

Do you like it when he lasts longer? He can do that!

Do you prefer to have him cuming on you for starters? Perfect!

His stamina is pretty consistent despite his lack of sleep.

Not tremendously high, but enough to have satisfactory sessions.

He gets really anxious, though. So, if you include some reassurance in aftercare, he'd be super grateful!

8/10

Mikey

I think he comes second to Leo.

Even if not intentionally, Mikey has a pretty good balance between exercising and proper rest.

He loves to have a good time with his partner, so it would last as long as the moment or mood requires, and you can bet he'd have the energy!

Also, I think that your satisfaction is very important to him, so he won't stop until you've come.

I think Mikey can do multiple rounds but ends up absolutely wasted and with a silly smile on his face haha

10/10