#it's about how he calls her his sister in the mails

[eljeebee]

A Brush with Death

Lady Lenora found an interesting thing in their mailbox. Ambrosia Society Newsletter. Ambrosia. It sounds familiar to her. In fact, she saw the word written a few times in her old journals that she started to read when not doing her curator work.

Along with the newsletter was a gardening book. She gathered their remaining mail, quietly dropped them on her sister’s desk, before taking a seat on her favorite armchair. She found it boring, as if she knew gardening already, but she continued to still flip through it.

Closing it, she read the newsletter.

Ambrosia. Food for the gods and the dead. Learn how to make one for you or your loved ones! This is the first lootbox for this season, read the book well! It’s not easy getting the right ingredients so the lootboxes will guide you! Thank you for subscribing to the Ambrosia Society Newsletter.

“I have never subscribed to this newsletter,” Lenora mumbled.

This ambrosia though, she thought, this sounds familiar.

Lenora went back to her sister’s office. Lady Lana immediately paused her work when she saw her sitting down. Smiling, she said, “Hello, Nora.”

“Lana,” Lenora says, “Do you know what an ambrosia is?”

She noticed how Lana’s face slightly dropped, before schooling her face. With an arched eyebrow and a smile, Lana said, “Why are you asking about ambrosia? What is that for? Do you still feel pain? Shall I call Vladislaus?”

Lenora smiled a little, shaking her head. “No, sister. I was just curious. I’ve seen it from my old books.”

“Well, do be careful. You must tell me if you’re hurting.”

She went upstairs. Truth be told, she doesn’t know why she’s curious about this thing. She could’ve just sought the answers in her old journals, but the thing is, they’re missing important pages. Either Lana ripped them, or she did it herself.

Lenora knocked before entering Percival’s room. He took a quick glance to Lenora before hitting one last hit against his punching bag.

“What’s up?”

“Do you know what an ambrosia is?” Nora asked.

He raised his brow then chuckled. “What the fuck is an ambrosia??”

Lenora sighed.

Percy cleared his throat. “Sorry. No idea. Maybe Val knows?”

She nodded. “Carry on, little Percy.”

He shrugged, before returning to his fighting stance.

Lenora knocked on the door beside Percy’s room.

“Come in!”

Valentina sat in front of her computer. She quickly typed something before looking at her visitor. “Lenora.”

“Cousin.” Lenora nodded.

“Is something the matter? Were you having trouble again with that broker? We can give his item back – I know someone who has another collection of the jewelry for your client.” Valentina was about to start typing again when Lenora shook her head and gently held her shoulder.

“I took care of that. The broker won’t open his mouth again,” Lenora smiled. “Do you know what an ambrosia is?”

“I do know it, why?”

Lenora raised her gaze through Valentina’s windows. “I saw it in my old notes. It seems important. I want to investigate why.”

Valentina thought for a moment. “I heard it is food for the dead; mortals seek it – to avoid Death. I don’t know…it’s not something we should take lightly. The mages and the spellcasters forbade its use in our time. I remember those two people, who called themselves the Seekers, punishing those who abuse the use of ambrosia.”

“I see…”

“Are you going…”

“Of course not, cousin,” Lenora smiled. “Thank you.”

Returning to her room, Lenora sat on her bed. She wanted to burn her old journal – why keep it if it’s going to be useless?

Perhaps she could search for it through her phone? Would there be any information for something forbidden? Lenora thought, this wouldn’t be easy –

Ah, the wonders of the internet. Apparently, it’s not forbidden there.

“It can bring a loved one back to life,” Lenora read. She hummed.

From her old belongings, Lenora found her séance table and a gramophone. Percy helped her get it inside her room. She wanted it to put it on auction, but her withered gut tells her not to, especially the gramophone. She knows it’s no ordinary gramophone.

“Hmm…I think it goes like this…”

Lenora found herself reciting a poem. She blinked. What was that poem? She doesn’t even remember that she knows that poem!

Her senses picked up something from behind her. A shadow. It felt familiar.

“I know you. You wanted to meet your death once,” the shadow says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I also don’t recall that poem I’ve recited. I assume that was to summon you, Death?”

“Hmm,” Death’s grim voice reverberated. “You are in search of ambrosia. Neither of us no longer remember what it is, but I know that it throws the living and the dead off balance. Continue investigating. I shall come back.”

Death vanished.

She took a moment to stare at the empty space Death had left, before returning her gaze to the séance table.

Would the spirits know what ambrosia is?

Lenora had surprised herself again when she learned she knew how to do séance. She mumbled chants. The lights flickered. A fire the color of teal burst above the table. It burned floating. Then, it formed a ring, like a halo.

The spirits whispered to her.

Ambrosia? Will you share? Yes? Listen well, this is what you need…

When the spirits were gone, Lenora sat for a moment. She brought out her phone and ordered some flower seeds.

The next day, Lenora brought in the empty planters they had in her room. There, she planted a lily and a snapdragon.

This must be why a person must be skilled in gardening to make ambrosia. Lenora thought.

[vyragosa]

amelie and higgs, and subsequent sam and higgs, in this essay i will,

[cressidagrey]

Lightning in a Bottle - Chapter 1

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings: 

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Magical Orthodontry...

(I should probably mention that my thoughts about plastic surgery/any kind of cosmetic enhancement are pretty much that as long as the person who has it done likes the result, it does not matter if anybody else thinks they needed it.

It’s their body, their choice and if they think they look prettier with a new nose/straighter teeth/fuller lips, good for them.

For myself, I love what braces did for my teeth and what one of those heatless curler things currently does for my hair lol)

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

It was bad. 

Eira shouldn’t have expected any differently. 

Maybe it had been the promise of mail-order catalogues that had made her think that maybe this time she wasn’t going to want to die halfway through her biannual week of torture…

But there was nothing the shadows could do, short of giving her pain potions that rendered her unconscious and plying her with soup. 

She let them. 

She was too weak to protest, in too much pain…feeling like a baby bird that needed them to slowly spoon broth in her mouth so that she only needed to swallow. 

But at least they were there. They didn’t leave her alone. Regardless of when she woke up…at what time of day or night…they were there. 

Ready with pain potions and armed with soup, and when she just needed something to get her mind off the pain, they told her stories. 

Little fables of Illyria and Prythian…children’s stories. 

Maybe one day she could tell the same stories to Nyx. 

It took 4 days… halfway through that week, when there was a knock at her door. 

Elain, the shadows whispered into her ear and she held back a groan. 

She didn’t want to deal with her sister. 

“Come in!” she called nonetheless and only then realised that she still had the key in the lock. The shadows swarmed out to turn it and then disappeared, scurrying underneath her desk. 

She forced herself to sit up, wondering how much of a mess she looked…probably like death warmed over twice, but to be completely honest…she wasn’t pretty on a good day, so what did it matter? 

Becoming Fae had somehow perfected the faces of her sisters. They still looked like themselves, but the cauldron had seemingly made them much more symmetrical, their limbs longer, their ears pointed…and for Elain, the cauldron…it had turned her from beautiful into otherworldly gorgeousness. 

For Eira…it had made her ears pointy. 

No, wait that wasn’t true…Her hair was seemingly even more unmanageable than it ever had been as a human…and her teeth…the less was said about that was better. 

She had already been self-conscious about them as a human. As a fae, surrounded by ridiculously attractive people every day, it was…something else entirely. 

“Good Morning,” Eira said quietly. Elain stared at her, surprise etched on her face. 

“Have you really spent the few days moping in your bed?” she asked, judgment clear in her voice. Eira wanted to bristle. Hadn’t Elain done the exact same thing when she had first been made? And Elain hadn’t had the excuse of a cycle for it. 

“Yes, Elain,” she said back quietly. “It’s….It’s that time of the year,” she mumbled, looking at everything but her sister. If Elain couldn’t even smell the thick cloying scent of blood that was clinging to Eira, she couldn’t help her. 

Elain just harrumphed.  “Look, I do realise that I may have been needlessly harsh,” she said, crossing her arms. Somehow managing to sound gracious even now.“But you do need to realise, Eira, that that is never going to go anywhere.” 

Eira blinked. Twice. 

Somebody put her heart into a vice and crushed it. 

Of all the things she had expected Elain to say…this wasn’t it. 

“Azriel is completely disinterested,” Elain continued. “And it would be better for you if you finally realised that.” 

“What does it matter to you?” Eira finally managed to bring out, her voice thankfully not shaking…And still….she sounded…weak. That’s what she sounded like. 

“I want you to be happy. And thirsting after a male that will never return your affections you won’t do that,” Elain said with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not going to change his mind, Eira.”

Eira flinched at Elain’s words. She couldn’t help it. 

Even when she knew…she knew her sister was right. She knew that…

“You should just stop your pathetic attempts of flirting with him. All you manage is to make him uncomfortable,” Elain continued with a roll of her eyes. 

Pathetic attempts of flirting? What did Elain even mean? Her nervous ramblings? Her stolen glances? The way her heart skipped a beat when she got to see him? 

She had never asked him out…on a date or anything else…she had never even mentioned courting in his near vicinity. She had done nothing, said nothing to Azriel that made her feelings obvious to him. 

It was all just…

“There are plenty of fish in the sea…” Elain said with a sigh. “You’ll find somebody else one day,” Elain told her, sounding some mixture between pitying and bored, as she turned to go. “Do you want me to ask Feyre to send Madja?”

“No, thank you. I have pain potions,”  Eira whispered, and Elain turned on her heel, marching back out of her room. 

Eira listened to her sister leave…she buried her face in her pillows.  

“Would you lock the door, please?” She whispered. 

Nobody else. Just her.

Why shouldn’t Elain once again stab her in the same wound…why not?  Why…

And then…somehow it was like somebody flipped a switch. 

She turned angry. Angry at Elain, at her twin sister. Who hid behind this veil of sisterly worry and only used it to hurt Eira?

She was so…she was so…She was so angry. 

She never was angry.  But right now it was swelling beneath her skin and she wanted…she wanted… Not revenge. Not really. 

She made Azriel uncomfortable with what? With nervous ramblings and stolen glances? 

Fine. She would stop that. She would stop all of that. 

She wouldn’t even talk to him again, so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable. She would ignore him. She would be icily polite and that was that. 

And she would find herself a husband and have all the babies she wanted and that would be that. She would find herself…somebody else. Somebody who wanted her.  Somebody for whom she wasn’t annoying…who she didn’t make uncomfortable.

Somebody for herself. 

Something for herself. 

She would fill her room with stupid trinkets she bought herself because nobody else would do it for her. She would buy pretty dresses that tried to mask that she wasn’t as pretty as her sisters. She would do all of that. 

And what her sisters thought about any of that…well, she didn’t fucking care. Not anymore. 

She wasn’t the only one angry. The shadows were hissing, spitting, swirling menacingly, nearly filling the whole room…and she wasn’t scared. That didn’t even cross her mind.

How dares she? The shadows hissed. She owed you an apology, not…not this.

Maybe for the first time in her life, Eira Archeron wanted to be utterly and completely selfish. 

Nobody was going to put her first. Not if she didn’t do it herself. 

“I’ll be buying myself something horribly expensive,” she finally said, her voice shaking. 

Do it, the shadows said, amusement bleeding into their voice, still angrily swirling, coming to wrap around her wrists. Buy whatever you want.

They dropped a catalogue next to her hands, and Eira reached out to take it with shaky hands. 

Whatever she wanted. 

The problem was only, she had no idea what she wanted. 

Maybe a new dress? Maybe some jewellery…like a necklace? Or a bracelet? 

A ring?

Like the rings her sisters had? Given to them by their mates, who loved them? 

Feyre’s Sapphire? The Ruby that encircled Nesta’s finger since her mating ceremony? 

Or maybe Elain’s ring…gold and diamond, looking like the rays of the sun, so fitting for the future wife of the heir to the Day Court. 

No. No jewellery. 

These godforsaken pearl earrings had been enough. 

Something Eira wanted. Something Eira needed. 

Eira could use a new pair of shoes. She already had brought her old ones to the cobbler thrice. Maybe…that wasn’t a ridiculous request after all…

She opened the catalogue, paging through it until she found the shoe section. She stared at the little pictures accompanying them. Humans hadn’t yet figured out how to do print in full colour, but the drawings on this page were brightly colourful. Clearly not a problem here in Prythian. 

She quickly slipped over the pages that had silk slippers and pretty heels on them. That wasn’t practical to run after Nyx with, right? Then she found a page with practical leather shoes… decisively female, a small heel…they weren’t that dissimilar to human fashion. 

She examined them closer. “Laces or Buckle? What do you think?” she asked the shadows. The ones with shoelaces were cheaper…but if she bought one with the buckles, she could also change them out, buy extra buckles…swap them with a crystal-embellished buckle or silver for gold…

All of that was possible. 

The ones with the buckles! The shadows said quickly. 

“They are pretty, aren’t they?” Eira commented and marked the page by folding down one corner as she turned the page. 

Definitely one contender. 

She couldn’t remember ever having done anything similar before. 

When she had still been human, as a child her mother had reigned over her wardrobe with an iron fist. They had never been allowed to pick out anything. 

And then later…after they had lost their fortune…well, picking out anything involved turning around every clipped copper coin. 

She had never been able to just…leisurely look at things and find the pretty and think about buying them…without even really looking at the price tag attached to them. 

Eira flipped back to the shoes, the tip of her finger tracing the writing…she had always been atrocious at reading. The letter tended to change their position, and it hadn’t changed as a Fae either. and she could never tell that to anybody, because the one time she had, her finger had been violently rapped by a wooden ruler and that had been that. 

If she just took her time…carefully…it worked. Just took her longer. She found the price attached to the shoes, knowing that even without the shadows, she could afford them. 

She had stashed away money in the chest at the foot of her bed after all. Not a lot but…enough for the shoes. 

Eira paged through more of the catalogue…oohing and awwing over dresses, where the shadows tried to talk her into buying herself a ballgown much to her amusement, though in the end, they agreed on a pretty blue-grey dress with billowing sleeves cuffed at her wrist…

Eira would never feel comfortable in the Night Court fashion of cropped tops and pants…she would much rather be covered up completely. But that dress…that looked quite pretty. 

She turned to the next page, and the next after that, trawling her way through skirts and cardigans and shirt waists…

And then Eira found the fabric section, biting her lip. Any time she had gone to a fabric shop in Velaris, it had been to buy fabric for a gift for her sisters. Never for herself. She didn’t need anything. 

That’s pretty, the shadows whispered in her ear, seemingly solidifying to point out a specific cotton print on that page. 

She wondered how they even saw anything. They didn’t have eyes. But then magic seemed to be the answer to nearly everything in Prythian. 

It was pretty. A ditsy little floral print…white ground, green leaves…It was pretty. So was a white cotton gauze with little dots…that was the one that she considered seriously. The price was good…she could use a new dress for her birthday…

She marked that page as well, flipping over to the next…and there it was. 

It was an advertisement that caught her eye, and she was nearly flicking to the next page as she caught the word teeth. 

“Faes can fix teeth?“ she asked weakly, as she read that advertisement, a promise about cosmetic procedures…like full lashes and eyebrows and…perfect teeth. 

Perfect teeth. 

“Could they fix mine?” she asked, desperation bleeding into her voice. 

Her teeth were…well, her greatest insecurity on a good day. They were…fine. It wasn’t painful at least. It was just that her two front teeth were too big for her face…which made her look like…

What’s wrong with your teeth? Do they hurt you? You’ll need a healer for that, the shadows said immediately, worriedly. 

“They are too big. Just the two front teeth. I look like a rabbit,”  she admitted in a whisper. Or a mole rat. Her mother had preferred the latter. 

Everything else could be fixed one way or another…but nothing could be fixed for her teeth. 

When she had been a child she had still hoped that she would grow into them, but that had never happened. 

And not even the cauldron had thought it would be prudent to fix them. Leaving her with them…still standing out starkly. 

They were the reason why she never smiled widely, why she made sure to talk with her lips pulled over them…why she didn’t wear bright lipstick. 

A few dozen things that she didn’t do because of them. 

You do not look like a rabbit, the shadows disagreed with a snort…and then after a moment:  Do they bother you?

They asked that like it was a near foreign thing…like…

“My mother used to…She used to tell me that…” She tried to bring the words over her lips but she choked on them. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t…

Once you feel better, you can go and have them changed to however you want to look, the shadows told her softly. Do they truly bother you that much?

“I know that I won’t ever be the beautiful one. But…if…If I could just feel…just feel pretty…just once,” she whispered, staring at that advertisement. 

If they could just fix her teeth… 

As soon as you feel better, the shadows promised her. But that’s not ridiculously expensive. Neither is one single pair of shoes, that dress….or a few yards of that fabric. Nearly teasing. 

But it was nice teasing. Sweet teasing. Teasing that did nothing but make a small smile appear on her face. 

“I could always buy more fabric,” she gave back, biting her lip and the shadows tugged at her fingers in response. 

But if magic could fix her teeth…maybe it could also fix her hair. 

A light brown mess on her head that never did what she wanted it to do… 

“Is there something for my hair as well?” she asked hesitantly, and the shadows flipped through her catalogue until it brought her to a page with hair care supplies. 

There are potions you can use…enchanted brushes too, they told her. You’ll want something for naturally curly hair.  

They didn’t need to tell Eira that twice. 

The morning she stopped bleeding she was out on the streets of Velaris as soon as the sun rose…dropping off the dresses she had hemmed, and picking up her newest commissions and then walking to that shop that promised her perfect teeth. 

It was a woman, a female, her age who looked up from the magazine she was reading, took one look at her, asked for a handful of gold coins…gave her a mirror in her hand and then drily said: “Just say stop when they have the size you want.”

And that was that. 

Eira could have wept with her gratitude. 

Her teeth looked perfect. Just like she had so often hoped they would look. 

The same could be said about her hair after one bath with her new potions and a run-through with her enchanted brush. 

Unmanageable frizzy hair that never looked like she wanted it to look? 

With magic no more. Thick, perfect, glossy curls fell over her shoulders in fat ringlets. 

To say that she was in a good mood after that…It was the understatement of a dozen centuries at least. 

Eira was ecstatic. 

She loved it. She felt…she felt so pretty. For once. 

“Good Morning!” she chirped as she entered the dining room. Not even the sight of Elain pouring over her wedding binders could put a dent in her happiness that morning. 

“Good Morning,” Elain responded, staring at her like she had gone mad but Eira didn’t care, as she poured herself a cup of tea, took a slice of toast, smeared jam all over it... 

“It’s a beautiful day outside, isn’t it?” she asked brightly, as she took a bite, chewed, swallowed…

Elain stared at her. 

“Eira…what did you do with your teeth?” her sister asked her, staring at her. 

“I got them fixed! Isn’t that great? Magic can do that!” she enthused. They were perfect! They looked just like she wanted them to look!

It was like thunder pulled over Elain’s expression. “You can’t be serious!” she snapped. “What were you thinking?!”

“That I got my teeth fixed?”  Eira gave back questioningly. What did it even matter to Elain? Couldn’t she just be happy? Eira was so fucking happy about her choice. 

“This doesn’t change things, Eira!” Elain said harshly. “It’s still never going to go anywhere!”

She opened her mouth to respond, but she was beaten to it. 

“What is never going to go anywhere?” Feyre’s voice came from the doorway as she entered, Nyx on her hips, staring around the room…waving chubby little arms in Eira’s direction that made her smile at him brightly. 

“Eira’s little crush on Azriel,” Elain said evenly. “He’s completely disinterested. and she has gone and gotten her teeth fixed in some hare-brained attempt to…”

“What does it matter to you?” Eira interrupted her. This had nothing to do with…him. This had been for her. Because she was the one her teeth bothered, long before she had ever even met him.  “They aren’t your teeth.” 

Feyre stared at her and Eira smiled brightly, showing all her teeth…something she would have never done before. But now she did. 

“Your teeth were fine before,” Feyre told her, staring at her like she couldn’t quite believe that Eira had gone and done this.  

“My teeth were too big for my mouth,” Eira disagreed. And really, she didn’t understand why she even needed to defend herself on this. “The last time I checked I was allowed to do with my body whatever I wanted,” she murmured under her breath. 

And this…this was harmless. This was just fixing her teeth. It didn’t hurt anybody. Not her, not anybody else…

Feyre didn’t seem convinced. “How much money did you spend on this?” her sister asked her, a sharpness sinking into her voice and Eira crossed her arms. 

“Not a single coin that belongs to you or your mate,” she gave back, her voice cold. “I spend my money, money I earned, on something that I wanted.” 

She was allowed to want things. Whatever she wanted, the shadows had promised her and they had kept that promise. 

“Did you do this because of Azriel?” Feyre asked, softening slightly. “Eira, that’s not going to work.”

She knew that. 

“My whole life does not revolve around other people,” Eira said calmly, meeting her sister's gaze. “I wanted it.”

“He’s still not going to be interested in you,” Elain snorted. 

Once again. Hitting that one weak spot her sister had sussed out. 

People always thought that Elain was oh-so-sweet. What they forgot was that even the most beautiful, most fragrant rose had its thorns. 

She said nothing. Didn’t flinch away. Didn’t say anything. 

“It’s true,” Feyre said with a sigh, actually agreeing with Elain. “I have wanted to talk to you about that, Eira…” her sister said, visibly uncomfortable. “Could you at least try to get over him? It’s…it would be better for…this court.”

Of course, it would be. This court. 

Because that’s what mattered, right? That’s what mattered to the High Lady. 

That the court was functional. That the spymaster wasn’t uncomfortable…that her sister wasn’t having a ridiculous puppy crush on another member of this court.  

And what was Eira supposed to say to this? 

What was she supposed to say to that? 

Eira’s feelings didn’t really matter anyway. They were nothing but an inconvenience. 

“I am sorry,” she said, her voice quiet, staring at her hands so that she didn’t need to look at two of her sisters…so they wouldn’t see the tears gathering in her eyes. “I’ll make sure that my feelings won’t inconvenience anybody else ever again.”

“That’s not…” Feyre started, but Eira shook her head.

“I understand,” she said, the words tasting like ash in her mouth, all her appetite gone, as she stood to go back to her room. 

[roosterforme]

Well now I’m just thinking about Jake and Darlin’ when Jake has a deployment :(( But Darlin would definitely send the cutest care packages that the US military has ever seen and Jake would be the envy of the ship (???? Idk, deployment group??) because his young hot girlfriend goes all out when sending him care packages and gives him the best stuff

Let's build off of this thought. Darlin' is a good student, and she would be so bored and lonely while he was gone. She would finish her schoolwork and then use her free time without Jake around to make him care packages. When she was at the store collecting snacks and pretty stationery for her endeavors, she would run into Cooper...

"Hey."

You looked up from the silver notecards and the embossed paper to see Cooper standing at the end of the aisle. "Hi," you replied without much feeling. It had been weeks since you made a quick stop at a party with Kylie where he tried to get you to hook up again while Jake went to the bar for Mickey's birthday. You told him you had a boyfriend and excused yourself, but now you realized you couldn't think of anything else to say to him.

"What are you shopping for?" he asked.

You looked back down at the items in your hands. "Stuff to send to my boyfriend while he's deployed," you said boldly.

"Deployed? How old is he?"

You just shrugged and said, "Older than you."

Cooper looked like he wanted to roll his eyes as he said, "Why don't you give me a call if you get bored." And then he walked away.

"Eww," you said to yourself, opting for the silver note cards, adding them to your cart along with the snacks, white tee shirt and paints. "I'll never be that bored."

You spent your weekend writing notes, taking sassy polariods, and packing up a huge box with the snacks spread out on top. You wore the shirt that you made which said Darlin' Loves Jake which may have made an appearance in some of the photos you took. Then on Monday, you send the box off to the middle of the damn ocean where you hoped Jake was safe and sound.

----------------------

Jake opened his mail in the lounge one evening, parusing the letters from his sisters, saving the massive cardboard box for last. He missed you so much, it was hard to sleep. Nobody gave him any attitude whatsoever, and the pizza on the carrier was worse than the stuff you liked.

The package from you did not disappoint, he pulled out mounds of candy and snacks, and the other guys immediately started asking him if they could have some.

"Sure. Help yourselves," he muttered, already more interested in the note cards and pictures.

He was just opening the first envelope he found when one of the guys cleared his throat and said, "I think you dropped this." Jake looked up to see him holding out a polaroid picture of you in a shirt that said Darlin' Loves Jake. You clearly weren't wearing a bra. "Your girlfriend's hot."

"I know," Jake snapped, taking the photo from his hand. "Keep your eyes to yourself."

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family Steddie AU Part 2

Part two of the Addams Family Steddie AU from this post! Anyway, here are five times Eddie gave Steve a gift plus one particularly special gift Steve gave him in return

I'll be honest, this one really got away from me LMAO

Also, @xjessicafaithx asked to be tagged if there was a part two so here ya go! I have a few more ideas for this AU so there might be more parts later too lol

One~

Steve is idly flipping through the mail he just pulled out of the mailbox, delaying his return to the house where Dustin is currently screaming about dice rolls over a Discord call, when he feels someone staring at him. His shoulders tense, and his grip on a junk letter creases the envelope as he looks up.

Crouching on the walkway leading up to a pitch-black house, elbows resting on his knees and a covered plate in his hands, is Eddie Munson. He's staring straight at Steve, eyes practically boring through him. When he realizes Steve has noticed him, Eddie perks up and balances the plate in one hand so he can wave with the other.

Steve hesitates before flashing an unsure smile and waving back. He thinks of the recently-washed plate that held the arsenic and chocolate chip cookies currently in his kitchen, waiting to be returned. Maybe he can return it now?

While he's thinking, Eddie has apparently taken the wave as permission to pop to his feet and walk over. And, well, he isn't wrong. It's not like Steve immediately started walking away after waving; he just kept standing there, locked in place by neighborly social conventions and Eddie's intense gaze.

"Good morning, Stevie," Eddie says, flashing that too-sharp grin at Steve as he leans on the mailbox. "You're looking particularly ravishing today."

"Ravishing?"

Eddie slowly looks him up and down, his eyes dragging along Steve's figure before finally letting their gazes meet once more. "Good enough to eat, really," Eddie replies, leaning in a little closer and making Steve's heart race with something that could be fear but is more likely embarrassment. Not that he wants to admit that. So, fear it is.

Steve laughs awkwardly and leans back, looking away and blaming the heat in his cheeks on the sun. "Uh, thanks. You, uh, look nice too," he says, glancing back at Eddie to take in the ripped jeans and short-sleeved black button-down (is that silk? It looks like silk) and chunky rings shaped like bats and skulls and coffins and wow, Eddie's fingers are kind of long.

Thankfully, Steve is saved from his mind wandering too far by Eddie shoving the covered plate into his hands. It's a familiar motion, and Steve almost laughs at it. "Thanks, sweetheart," Eddie says, letting his fingers brush across the back of Steve's hands before pulling away. "Anyway, Wayne baked more last night before communing with some spirits. He made too many eye of newt brownies, and I thought you'd enjoy them."

Steve blinks, looking down at the plate in his hands. "Eye of newt?" he asks, curiously lifting the tin foil to see perfectly normal-looking brownies inside.

"Yeah, they're to die for," Eddie says, his grin widening as he pushes off the mailbox and leaves Steve with a plate of brownies and a confusing feeling in his chest.

Two~

"She likes meatballs."

Steve blinks, staring at the concerningly large Venus Fly Trap in El's hands. Behind her, Eddie is smirking at him, holding his sister's shoulders and giving Steve an expectant look as El holds the flower pot out to him. The pot itself is also concerningly large for how she's holding it, and Steve can't stop himself from quickly taking the pot so she doesn't strain her back any more than she already has.

He grunts at the sudden weight when she lets go but doesn't drop the pot. Instead, he carefully and gently places it on the ground, silently letting out a breath of relief as the plant sways slightly in the pot, brushing against his hip.

The two had caught Steve when he was getting out of his car, his entire body already feeling heavy from work. His plan had been to go inside, do his best to not fall asleep standing in the shower, make Dustin dinner, and then pass out in bed until his alarm woke him again in the morning.

But instead, El had run over to him the moment he got out of his car, cheeks slightly flushed with excitement as she offered him the plant. Eddie had leisurely followed her over, amusement clear on his face as he watched Steve's brain struggle to catch up.

"Doesn't she eat flies?" Steve asks, looking down at the plant. For some reason, he feels like it's staring back at him.

El shakes her head. "Flies are not big enough. You should feed her one pound of meatballs on Wednesday and Sunday."

Cool. Great. Perfectly normal. It's not like Steve has had a Venus Fly Trap before, so he can't contest that. "Why are you giving her to me?" he asks, tearing his eyes away from the plant to look at El.

"Aunt Morticia took cuttings of her Cleopatra and sent us a few," El says, her tone implying that should be more than enough explanation.

Steve's expression, however, surely says differently. Thankfully, Eddie picks up on it and leans forward over El. "She'll make a great guard plant for you and Dustin, Stevie. Plus, she's almost as good a listener as I am," he explains, playfully wiggling his eyebrows at Steve.

"Oh," Steve says, pointedly ignoring the second part of that explanation. "Does she have a name yet?"

"Nix," El tells him.

"Nix?"

"Yeah. Stevie," Eddie says, pointing at him before pointing to the plant and saying, "Nix. Because you said you like Fleetwood Mac."

Yeah, Steve did say that, but it was in passing, and he didn't think Eddie had actually heard him say it or paid any attention. It was said to Dustin while they were walking to the car, and Eddie had just happened to be sitting on his porch at the time.

But he did pay attention. And now he and El have given Steve and Dustin a plant whose name is a reference to Fleetwood Mac. Steve can't help a smile, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than just ten minutes ago. "Thanks, I know Dustin will love her, too," he says, feeling blinded by the tiny smile from El and the full-on grin from Eddie.

Three~

Nix likes to get sun, but she doesn't like being in the sun for too long. She also doesn't like staying still in the sun; she prefers to be moved around constantly, never staying in one spot for more than a minute if she's particularly patient. She also prefers to go on a sun walk right after eating her pound of meatballs.

These are things Steve learns over the course of three weeks through trial and error that often resulted in Nix snapping shut around his arm whenever he didn't immediately do as she liked. Steve had never heard of a plant having a personality before (especially not such a temperamental one), but he's come to find it endearing. Plus, carrying Nix around the yard does make for an effective workout.

So, on a very hot Sunday at the very end of June, Steve is carrying Nix around his backyard. Her pot is in his arms, sweat is dripping down his back, and Nix is helpfully trying to shade his head from the sun using her...head? Steve actually isn't sure what to call the top part of her. Is it a mouth?

"It's called a lobe."

Steve jumps, his grip on Nix's pot tightening as he whips his head around and sees Eddie crouching on the fence dividing their yards. He isn't even sure how Eddie manages it, considering how narrow the fence is, but he's also stopped trying to figure it out.

"What is?" he asks.

Eddie hops down, walking over to Steve and carefully taking Nix out of his hands. He continues walking around the backyard, and Steve doesn't even question following him. "This," Eddie says, pointing to the top of Nix's head. "This is called a lobe."

"How'd you..."

"You had a curious expression and were looking at Nix."

"You know my curious expression?"

Eddie looks over at Steve, a smile pulling at his lips and his eyes softening some, and Steve suddenly feels like he's drowning in the ocean and floating among the clouds. "I know all your expressions, Stevie," Eddie tells him.

Steve feels seen and terrified and...and utterly under whatever spell Eddie has spent the past few months carefully casting. He doesn't say anything about it, though. Instead, he rather dumbly says, "Oh."

The smile widens, and Steve finds himself wondering not for the first time what it would feel like to run his tongue over Eddie's too-sharp canines. "By the way, I got something for you, Stevie."

Steve blinks, watching as Eddie easily cradles Nix's pot in one arm and reaches into his back pocket. For a brief moment, Steve thinks he's going to pull out his dagger again. Last time, he'd placed it in Steve's hand and very seriously told him, "If you ever see me on the verge of death, take this dagger and stab it through my heart. I'd rather die by your hand than whatever else got to me first." He'd then showed Steve where he kept it, his smile bright despite his words leaving Steve speechless.

Eddie does not, in fact, pull out a dagger. He pulls out a tiny, leatherbound journal. The journal is black like everything else the Munson family owns, and a heart is carefully painted onto the cover with two skulls looking outwards and meeting at the jaws to create the heart's point.

Steve slowly takes the journal, the cover feeling soft under his thumb, and he looks up at Eddie. His confusion is made even stronger when he sees his bashful expression. Eddie uses his free hand to tug on a lock of his hair, habitually hiding his mouth behind it. "I, uh, write music, you know," he says, waiting for Steve to nod once before rushing out in one breath, "I wrote songs for you."

When the words actually register, Steve's eyes widen, and he cracks the journal open to a random page. Eddie's familiar scratchy handwriting crosses the paper. Steve can only just see a line about the arrows of fate and burning stars before Eddie's hand covers the page. "Maybe, uh, maybe read them later."

Steve easily agrees, and Eddie quickly changes the subject. After finishing Nix's walk around the garden, Eddie helps Steve return her to her room and returns himself to his own home. Steve watches Eddie through the window, waiting for him to go inside before opening the journal once more and finding the page Eddie had covered.

i'll throw myself before the arrows of your fate// take all your misfortune as the gift it is// piercing my ribs as you burn brighter than stars// unhindered by the despair i have stolen for myself

Four~

Eddie's hand is warm in Steve's as he leads him up the stairs of the Munson home. The halls are dimly lit by old lanterns whose flames make shadows dance across the walls, and Steve finds them more romantic than creepy. When they reach the attic, Eddie stops at the door. "Okay, some of them don't look like normal bats," he says, turning to look at Steve.

"Are you giving me one of the normal ones?"

Eddie nods once. "Yeah, the demobats are too unpredictable, and the hivemind doesn't help. You wanted one bat, not a swarm."

Steve hums softly, leaning closer and placing his free hand on Eddie's chest, right over his heart. "I would accept a swarm if you gave it to me, babe," he says, smiling reassuringly at Eddie.

His words are rewarded with an arm around his waist, holding him closer like Eddie wants to pull Steve under his skin and hold him in the spaces between his bones. "But I wouldn't get nearly as much attention then, Stevie," he replies, punctuating each word with tiny pecks that begin at his forehead, follow the bridge of his nose, and end on his lips in a lingering kiss.

Steve almost loses himself in it, but he'd rather not get carried away where Wayne or El could catch them. So he begrudgingly pulls away, playfully reaching up and tugging one of Eddie's locks when he pouts. "You know you're dearer to me than all the bats in the world, Eddie. Now, which bat is mine?"

Eddie's pout immediately becomes a grin, and he opens the attic door. It's dark as night in the room, the only lights coming from red eyes staring at them from the ceiling. Eddie keeps his arm around Steve's waist, keeping him close as he shortly whistles three times. A screech sounds from the ceiling, followed by the flapping of wings and a bat flying out to land on Eddie's outstretched arm.

With his foot, Eddie shuts the door as he holds the bat in front of Steve so he can get a better look. The bat is small, no more than three inches, and its nose looks vaguely like an upside-down heart. It tilts its head, studying Steve in return as it shifts on Eddie's hand. "Isn't she cute?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles and holds his hand out to the bat, a few seconds passing before she moves from Eddie to him. "Yeah, she's really cute," he says as she surveys her new spot. She shifts a few times before pushing off Steve's hand and flying to his shoulder. She settles close to his neck, a warm softness against his skin partially hidden by his hair. And then she chirps, sounding like the squeaking of sneakers on a gym floor.

"She's an African heart-nosed bat," Eddie explains, starting to pull Steve down the stairs again. "They're very territorial, and they mark their territory by singing."

"Is that what she's doing?" Steve asks, raising his free hand to gently brush a finger against her head. She humors the touch for a few seconds before gently nipping his finger, not breaking the skin but clearly getting across that he shouldn't touch her anymore.

"Yep," Eddie says, grinning at Steve. "So, what are you gonna name her?"

Five ~

Hulyet buries herself in Steve's hair as he stares at the floor-length black dress Eddie holds up. She apparently picks up on Steve's confusion and slight concern, decides something is invading their territory, and begins singing aggressively in Eddie's direction.

The sudden squeaks and chirps break Steve out of his confusion, and he can't help a laugh. He reaches up, gently stroking her back to reassure her that everything is fine, and asks Eddie, "What's with the dress?"

"All Hallow's Eve is approaching," Eddie says, "I thought we could go as Dracula and his bride."

"Am I the bride?"

Eddie pauses, looking at the dress for a moment before looking back at Steve. "I haven't figured that out yet," he admits. "If you don't want to be the bride, I don't mind it."

Steve blinks, suddenly realizing this is Eddie trying to plan a couple's costume for Halloween. A familiar warmth floods through him, and he can't help smiling. He studies the dress, coming to the conclusion that he doesn't mind wearing it. For Eddie, of course.

Well, actually, he also thinks it looks hot.

"Okay. Let me try it on," he says, holding out his hands. Eddie lights up, handing over the dress and looking at Steve expectantly.

Well, there goes changing in the bathroom. Steve sighs, feels relieved he wore briefs, and strips down. Hulyet grips tighter to his hair as he moves, chirping once in indignation before settling once more as Steve wiggles his way into the dress.

It's tight, but not overly so. The material hugs curves Steve didn't even know he had, and the neckline plunges between his pecs and stretches into off-shoulder sleeves. The very bottom of the dress flares outward in a spiderweb pattern formed by lace. He takes a few experimental steps, relieved to find his movement isn't too restricted by the dress and fascinated to discover the spiderweb at the bottom stays perfectly spread out.

"How's it look?" Steve asks, turning to Eddie only to find that he'd moved right behind him at some point. He startles, taking a step back and getting his foot caught on the back of the dress. Before he can hit the floor, though, Eddie catches him, arms around his waist and holding him in a dip.

Steve's heart is pounding against his ribs, his breath short as he tightly grips Eddie's jacket collar and tries to ignore Hulyet painfully yanking on his hair. Eddie grins at him and says, "You look enchanting, Stevie. I would have fallen on my knees to worship you if you didn't beat me to the falling part."

Steve snorts and relaxes his grip, sliding his arms around Eddie's neck instead. "How long are you planning to hold me like this?" he asks.

"I could hold you as the world burns to ash around us. Even after we die and have decomposed, our skeletons will still be wrapped around each other, forever locked together."

From anyone else, Steve thinks he would worry about being murdered. But from Eddie, Steve just thinks it's one of the most romantic things he's ever heard, right alongside everything else Eddie has ever said to him. "That sounds perfect," he says, happily smiling into the kiss Eddie gives him.

Plus One~

"Fucking hell, Steve, stop bothering me about this!"

Steve frowns at Dustin, slouching on the couch as he anxiously turns a velvet box over in his hands. Dustin is laid out on the floor with a bowl of cheese puffs, his head resting on Dart's back as the demodog naps. "You're such a supportive brother," Steve says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Dustin scoffs and throws a cheese puff at Steve's head. "I was plenty supportive the first fifteen times! Just fucking give him the ring already," Dustin says, returning the stuck-out tongue that Steve sends him before looking down at his phone and typing something. "Dude, it's Eddie. You could give him a used soda can and he'd give it a fucking pedestal in his room."

Okay, yeah, Dustin has a point. That doesn't make Steve any less nervous, though. He forces himself to take a deep breath, pushing down his anxiety long enough to say, "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Literally, when have I ever been wrong, Steve?"

"Shut up."

Dustin flashes a grin just as Eddie's familiar rhythmic knock sounds against the door right before he opens the door. "By the way, I told Eddie to come over so you'd stop bothering me," Dustin tells him, his grin widening as Eddie saunters into the room.

"All right, gremlin," Eddie says, nudging Dustin with his foot, "get out."

As Dustin practically bolts from the room, Dart right on his heels, Steve decides he's going to make zucchini spaghetti for dinner so Dustin is forced to suffer through vegetables.

"So, whatcha got there, Stevie?" Eddie asks, perching on the couch next to Steve and looking pointedly at the box in his hands.

Well, there's no escaping it now.

Steve takes one more deep breath and opens the box. He pulls out the ring inside and presents it to Eddie. It's smaller than the rings he normally wears, but the sterling silver band is engraved with bat wings and an anatomical heart is carved into the garnet on top. A small, almost imperceptible clasp can be found just under the garnet. "I found it at an antique store with El and Max," Steve explains. He hesitates before carefully pushing the clasp to reveal a compartment just beneath the garnet. "It's one of those poison rings."

Eddie is uncharacteristically silent as he takes the ring, carefully shutting the compartment so he can turn it over in his hands. Once he's fully inspected the band and garnet, he pushes on the clasp and studies the size of the compartment. Finally, he slips the ring onto his left ring finger, his sharp canines coming into full view as he grins. "Yes, of course."

"Uh, yes what?"

"You're proposing, and I'm saying yes," Eddie explains, taking Steve's hand and bringing it to his lips. He kisses Steve's palm before lightly dragging his teeth over it, and Steve thinks he shows incredible character growth by not jerking his hand away.

His brain catches up a few seconds later. "Wait, proposing? This wasn't...I just...we've only been dating for three months?"

Eddie hums softly in agreement, sliding Steve's hand to his cheek and leaning into the touch. "I know," he says, "We've shown incredible restraint so far. Most Munsons get married within weeks of meeting their loves."

Honestly, that doesn't surprise Steve at all. Who could resist the Munson charm? Who could say no to the all-consuming devotion that shows no sign of ever fading? Steve's mouth suddenly feels dry. "Right," he mumbles, gently brushing his thumb over Eddie's cheek, "That, um, that's just a little fast, I think."

Eddie's smile doesn't fade one bit. He just nods, his eyes glowing with understanding and love and Steve's weakening resolve practically crumbles when Eddie says, "That's okay, Stevie. As long as I can see you and be near you, I don't care about anything else. You could put a knife through my heart, and I'd thank you for the chance to get a closer look at your eyes."

Steve...Steve is fucking weak. He abandons any idea of maintaining a distance between them, climbing into Eddie's lap and kissing the cheek he isn't holding. "It's not an engagement ring, but...but consider it an engaged-to-be-engaged ring," he says, the words feeling ridiculous as he speaks them.

But that doesn't matter because Eddie practically lights up. "Is that a promise? That we're engaged to be engaged?" he asks.

"Yeah," Steve says, his voice soft, "Just wait at least three more months before you propose, okay?"

Eddie's grin gets even wider, and he presses a searing kiss to Steve's lips, leaving him breathless and light-headed and absolutely sure Eddie is already planning his proposal.

[loveyhoons]

YOU’RE MINE⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ | s.jh

pairing: sim jaeyun x f!reader

genre: tatbilb! inspired, fake relationship!

synopsis: when you and jake get into an argument, you decide to get over your fear of driving by yourself and tell him how much he means to you

featuring: jake & sunoo of enhypen, ej from &team

word count: 3.0k words

warnings: cussing, kissing

author’s note: hi everyone, long time no see 😭👍🏼 i decided to put out a little au for you all since i have not published something in a while! rest assured, i hope to get my other fics out hopefully very soon, but i am currently still in the process of writing them!!

if you watched tatbilb this is loosely inspired by that movie, i recently rewatched it and was like let me write something up

hope you all like this one :)

You stopped at the red light, tapping your fingers back and forth on the steering wheel.

You hated driving when you didn’t need to-more like when you weren’t alone either.

You constantly looked back and forth on your side mirrors, hoping the light would turn green soon. You did not know whether it was the cup of coffee you had this morning or that talk you had with your older sister’s ex-boyfriend EJ yesterday afternoon but it all seemed to snowball to this very moment.

Scratch that, it all was valid reasons why you were feeling this way- more specifically why you were feeling all these things for one person.

Jake Sim.

It all started in October last year when you both agreed to mutually get into a fake relationship.

With your younger sister sending out all your love letters in the mail (that were supposed to be kept a secret), you were in deep trouble.

According to her, she wanted your life to have some spice in it-whatever that meant. Well, what you didn’t know was that when you almost backed up and almost hit Jake on the first day of school, she immediately thought she could give you a little push. And with his name matching up with one of the letters she so happened to see in that little teal box, she knew what had to be done.

You remember running laps in PE, trying to ignore the sunlight and get the period over with. You stopped out of nowhere hearing Jake call your name. You turned around, seeing him walk over towards you, leaving you behind as your classmates ran ahead, getting further and further away.

As soon as you saw a letter in his hand, you felt your heart race. You recognized the pink paper and saw it was accompanied by a brown envelope- one with a forever stamp that had a blue bird on it, the design you ever so remember: it was the one you used for all your love letters at that spur of the moment you had back in freshman year.

Whenever you had a crush so intense to the point you felt like your heart was about to be ripped out of your chest, you wrote love letters. You remembered storing the letters in the teal box your Mom gave to you shortly before she passed.

You thought that keeping it safe inside the box was like a metaphor in a sense. The teal box was like your heart. It saved all these bottled up emotions you knew that you would keep and never reveal even in a million years.

But, it all went wrong once it got into the hands of those 5 guys you wrote to.

EJ your sister’s ex who happened to be your neighbor.

Heeseung Lee from summer camp.

Jake Sim from seventh grade.

Beomgyu Choi, your homecoming date in freshman year.

and Sunghoon Park from Model UN.

You mumbled to yourself, trying to decipher if this was real or reality. You then passed out and felt like you were in a dream.

A very bad dream.

Jake ran towards you, unsure of what to do. You slowly woke up, hearing the worried tone of his voice as soon as you opened your eyes.

You remembered sitting up as Jake bombarded you with questions asking if you needed water or needed to go to the nurse’s office.

And out of nowhere, EJ then appeared walking from where Jake came from, also holding a love letter in his hands. As he came down towards you, you gulped, immediately freaking out.

You kissed Jake out of nowhere as soon as EJ called out your name, immediately earning yourself an extra lap to run after.

Jake was shocked-well the both of you were. You could not believe you did that and was baffled over the whole situation.

What you didn’t know was that this would all be the start of your little contract.

Jake just broke up with his ex girlfriend a month prior to school starting. His ex was also your old best friend from middle school.

It was in the 7th grade when you both had a huge fight that would then lead to you breaking things off.

You all were at a mutual friend’s birthday party. It was a classic game of spin the bottle and the bottle landed on you then on Jake. Your mutual friend dared you to kiss Jake on the cheek.

And little did you know your best friend had a huge crush on him. And that was the end of your friendship. She just left you and you still wondered why it even happened.

With the both of you needing a favor from each other (Jake thought this could be something you would do in return for that kiss), you both agreed to make Jake’s ex jealous and you agreed to keep it up in order for EJ to not talk to you.

You really couldn’t face him at all after what happened, especially with your sister. You were at the last resort of options and decided to make a whole contract with Jake.

Anyways, it only really was supposed to be until the annual ski trip in December before winter break…right?

You would then hold hands in school, have the love letters you ever so wanted written to you, and the recreation of scenes from classic romantic comedies you loved watching with your sisters on those warm summer nights.

Jake would spin you around, give you the biggest back hugs, and wear your scrunchies on his wrist even if you weren’t there physically with him.

“What’s this?” You ask Jake as you hold the folded piece of paper in your hands. You unfolded it, seeing a paragraph on the top half.

He smiled, pointing towards it. “Your daily love letters Y/L/N.”

You read the cheesy paragraph to yourself, smiling. You looked up to him, trying not to giggle. “Who knew you were so good at writing?”

“It’s only for you.” Jake nodded his head. “You ask and you shall receive.”

It felt nice. You hated to admit you liked it. Maybe it was the fact you never had a boyfriend or the way you always so wished to experience what it would feel like to live in your own little romantic comedy.

But at the same time, you felt a wave of sadness knowing it was just all for show.

You knew things would end with Jake eventually and this would all be a nice dream you’d have to wake up to. He would eventually be back with his ex and your relationship would just be another silly thing that would slowly fade from your memory.

You felt like shit too, hiding this all from your older sister knowing you told her everything beforehand. After she left for her study abroad to France, you had no idea how to tell her about Jake or what was going on between you and EJ.

You felt overwhelmed, unsure of what to do.

And then the annual Ski trip came around and when things really started to become a bit different for you both.

You realized you fell for Jake and you wanted this relationship to be real. You wanted him-but this time as your actual boyfriend.

And that’s when you heard he was at the swimming pool. And that’s when you both shared a passionate kiss, as he also admitted to falling for you in the process too.

“Fuck, I’m going to look insane.” You mumbled to yourself, taking in a deep breath. You got into the pool, removing your bath robe. Feeling a bit chilly in your nightgown, you quickly went towards Jake. He gulped a little, flustered. He felt his heart race.

“Why didn’t you sit next to me on the bus?” Jake asked as you floated next to him.

“I figured you’d want some alone time with your ex, that’s all.” You replied a bit reluctant.

“But she’s not my girlfriend Y/L/N.” Jake bit his lip. “You are.”

“Jake-”

“I think we need to end the contract now.”

You raised your eyebrow. You could feel the disappointment and the heavy feeling in your chest. Shit, should you even still confess how you really feel?

Jake then grabs your hands as he sighed. “I don’t want to be in a fake relationship, I want us to have a fresh start with each other, I want to make things real. Rip the contract whatever we had written on there doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Wait Jake.” You felt your voice squeak a little in shock. “You’re not joking?”

“No Y/L/N. I really like you. Who were we kidding, getting ourselves into this situation? I feel like I’m just blabbing on and on but I do hope you feel the same.”

You smiled, feeling your cheeks burn. Nodding your head, you then placed your lips on his as he held you closer to him.

As you pulled away, you whispered in a smile. “Don’t worry, I feel exactly the same.”

He wrapped his arms around you as the two of you embraced in another kiss.

You felt like your life was turning for the better after that. You thought you and Jake could just rip up that contract and call it a day as soon as you both got back from the trip.

But things would only crumble from there.

As soon as you got off the bus the day after, Jake’s ex taunted you.

You thought you had lost that scrunchie- the first one you gave to Jake on that first week upon dating.

But why was it on her wrist?

You remember storming off, not even saying bye to Jake, just out of it, baffled as if whatever happened the evening prior felt like nothing even mattered.

Then your sister came home from France and found out about your little letter to EJ (thanks to him interrupting your family dinner on Christmas Eve).

Jake happened to show up at the same time as EJ did and the two ended up almost in a fight. Jake wanted to explain that nothing happened and to apologize for the scrunchie but then EJ bursted out and spoke about how he felt, confused as to why you were dating Jake.

Little did you know your older sister was behind the front door the entire time, accidentally hearing everything from the love letter to you and Jake being in a fake relationship.

She was speechless to say the least. She was disappointed you held everything in and did not tell her anything, telling you, you should not go through anything alone.

You cried on your pillow that evening, not even able to fully process how things went wrong so quickly. You remember feeling defeated and as if the Christmas spirit just washed away the next day.

And to make matters worse as soon as you got back from break, a mysterious person posted a video of you and Jake’s heated moment at the pool.

And you remember storming off on Jake, calling it quits.

It hit you that you may have lost the best person that ever happened to you.

And you didn’t know how to accept losing another important person in your life.

After you and your older sister worked things out, she was successfully able to get that video off Instagram (thankfully the help center was ever so helpful).

You made amends-somewhat- with Jake’s ex who admitted to posting the video on a burner account. She admitted the whole spin the bottle situation was why you both stopped becoming friends and left you in pure shock.

Even though you did not understand why she could not just tell you in the first place long ago, you accepted it already happened.

You could not just go back in time and undo things, you needed to face what was in front of you.

You eventually worked things out with EJ. You explained everything and apologized for the way you acted.

“Who cares if it was fake?” EJ snickered as he shook his head. He shifted his position a bit on the stair you both sat on. He tried not to laugh, glancing at you. “I could tell it wasn’t fake for you. You had that type of look in your eyes. It reminded me how your sister looked at me when we were together.”

“EJ, you’re funny but I really don’t know anymore.” You replied, hugging your knees.

“If Jake fucks this up, I hope he knows I won’t let him off easily.” EJ snapped. “This is not only for you but also for your sister. I rest my case.”

Your front door then swiftly opened to your younger sister who sat in the middle of you both. She had the teal box in her hands and took off the lid, showing the contents inside.

Instead of those love letters you wrote in the past, it was filled with the love letters that Jake wrote you. All of those letters were stored inside, each folded like how he gave it to you.

“I may have eavesdropped-I didn’t mean to okay.” Your younger sister awkwardly said. She then took one of the letters and held it up. “But I hope this gives you more of a reason to get back with Jake-not that I need a ride to school or anything. Also please, I hate to see you crying over the smallest things. I need him back in our lives. I don’t know if I can stand hearing your bitter thoughts in every romcom we watch now any longer.”

You looked at your sister in utter shock.

“The kid has spoken.” EJ smiled as he stood up. He then cooed, looking towards you. “It’s up to you now whether or not you want to put it in action.”

Now here you are on a Sunday afternoon, driving to the school campus to find Jake.

You texted his friend Sunoo in the morning who also was on the soccer team with him.

It turned out the team had practice on the weekends as the soccer season was starting once again. Sunoo texted you right after practice ended and said that Jake should still be there as practice ended a bit later than expected.

So you grabbed your keys as soon as Sunoo texted back, immediately driving out of your driveway and onto the road.

Jake was left behind according to Sunoo as it was his turn to put the soccer balls back into the large shed by the PE locker rooms.

This was the first time you drove by yourself.

That fear of yours didn’t seem to matter at all in the moment.

You just needed to make sure you would make it before Jake would leave. You could not keep your feelings to yourself anymore.

You pulled into the right school parking lot and parked your car in one of the empty spots. You got out quickly and pressed the lock button on your car keys, immediately running towards the field.

As you walked into the campus and straight to the field, you panted for a little. You stopped at the field entrance, scanning the area for Jake.

You then spotted him, putting the soccer balls into the large bags towards the sides by the left bleachers. You ran again and called out his name, going straight towards him.

Jake turned towards your direction and turned his head slightly, making sure he wasn’t hearing things.

You then stopped in front of him and sighed. “Holy shit, I feel like I’m in PE.”

“Did you drive here…alone?” Jake asked in shock as you nodded your head. He put down the bag of soccer balls, kicking it towards the side.

“Yes. I drove here alone.” You said a bit out of breath as you walked closer to him. “That’s not important right now.”

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I’ll just- you know what, I’ll just say whatever I am feeling right now.” You looked at him and started to speak, feeling your voice break a little. “Jake I’m so sorry for not texting you the past few weeks and for ignoring you. I just needed time to think things out.” You sighed. “I am so sorry I didn’t work things out and just left you in the dark. I realized through all of this that I want you. I want us. I want to fight for you like you did for me this entire time. I want to experience the good and bad times with you. I just want you here,

I want you with me.”

Jake’s eyes widened as his lips pursed into a smile. “I’m sorry too. I swear we didn’t do anything with each other and I feel stupid for not getting back your scrunchie and just letting her do whatever she wanted to do. I just- after you going no contact with me I didn’t know what to do then with the video being posted. Fuck, I didn’t mean for that to happen either.”

What’s done is done. I am leaving that in the past.” You replied. “I just wanted to get it out of my chest whatever I’m feeling because truthfully I like you a lot Jake. I understand if you don’t want to get back together- I just want you to know so I can get closure- we can get closure, heck I think I just got over my fear of driving alone.”

“Woah slow down you’re getting ahead of yourself!” Jake chuckled, trying to calm you down.“Sunoo sorta told me you texted him this morning…I was kind of expecting you.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “He wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

Jake cupped your cheeks in his hands and sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

You intently looked up at him as he clicked his tongue. “There is no way I am letting you go L/Y/N. We will make this work I am sure of it. You think I would really let you go after what happened in the seventh grade?”

“Not you mentioning it again, I can’t believe you still remember that…” You shook your head in embarrassment.

“I’m just telling the truth.” Jake said defensively as you smiled. He then took a deep breath and asked,”Now, the real question is… can I be your boyfriend-like your real one?”

You smiled, nodding your head. “Didn’t need to ask, I'm all yours.”

Jake pulled you in for a kiss as you moved in, standing closer towards him. And you stayed like that for a little while, relieved that you found your way back to him.

© loveyhoons , 2024

landing page | masterlist

[catherinetheprincessofwales]

James Middleton: Kate, William and the dog that saved my life. The younger brother of the Princess of Wales was so depressed he came close to killing himself. Then Ella, his faithful cocker spaniel, stepped in — and even found him a wife. He tells Matt Rudd about his ‘waste of money’ education, family therapy and the help Prince William gave him. The Sunday Times, 22 Sep 2024.

I’m in a cottage on a farm with the brother of the Princess of Wales and his eyes are filling with tears. He has a cocker spaniel called Luna on his lap and I have a cocker spaniel called Inka on my lap. Both dogs are looking anxiously at their owner as he tries to tell me about the death of their mother, Ella. It could be a bit awkward when a man you’ve only just met starts getting very emotional about a dog that died nearly two years ago. Instead it’s the moment I realise James Middleton isn’t exaggerating. A dog really did save his life.

On a winter’s night in late 2017, Middleton climbed a ladder to the roof above his parents’ flat in Chelsea and contemplated suicide. Overwhelmed by feelings of failure, he had decided that the labour of living was no longer worth the effort. As his thoughts spiralled, it was only the sight of Ella, watching him carefully through the skylight, that gave him pause. How could he leave her, he wondered.

Over weeks and months Middleton had isolated himself from family and friends, ignoring increasingly desperate phone calls and texts. When his sister Pippa came to the door, he would hide in his room. When he tried to go to work, he got as far as the car park and then drove home again.

“I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t sleep, I was constantly agitated,” he says. “If I sat down I had to stand up again immediately. I couldn’t eat because I felt constantly as if I were about to throw up. What was most challenging was that I couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong. It wasn’t living, it was just existing in this awful state of anxiety.”

As his mental health crisis deepened, it was only Ella and the routine of looking after her that kept him going. “I was never alone in a time when I felt very lonely,” he says, stroking Inka’s ears. “I’m surprised there weren’t marks on the carpet from the laps I was doing, but she would sort of get in the way. It was a silent interruption, but for a fraction of a second it would stop the spiralling. “Something was taking over my mind, but not knowing what it was made it very difficult to talk about. And I didn’t feel as though I had a right to be depressed because I’ve had everything, because I am privileged.”

We are meeting today, I should mention, at Bucklebury Farm Park, a genteel sheep-petting outfit plus farm shop (excellent organic pesto) at the more desirable end of Berkshire. It is owned by his sister Pippa Matthews née Middleton and her hedgie husband, James, who is, among other things, the next laird of Glen Affric. Carole and Michael Middleton, parents to James, Pippa and Catherine, live in a manor house a stone’s throw away and Middleton’s own farm, which he bought from the parents of a prep school friend mid-pandemic, is a mile over there. It’s quite the empire.

Now married to the French financier Alizée Thevenet and father to 11-month-old Inigo, Middleton is happy to talk about his annus horribilis and his dog-assisted recovery. He does so at book-length in Meet Ella: The Dog Who Saved My Life. But it’s a good question: what does someone born into such wealth and privilege have to be depressed about?

The roots of his 2017 crisis can be found, like most roots of crises, in childhood. Born in 1987, the same year his mother set up the mail-order company Party Pieces, he followed his two older sisters to Marlborough. If the prestigious boarding school demanded academic excellence and his parents expected it, both were to be disappointed. Diagnosed with dyslexia then, and with attention deficit disorder when he finally sought help in 2017, he struggled where his sisters had excelled.

“School is about comparing yourself to others,” he says, recalling how he would avoid friends phoning to compare exam results in the summer holidays. “I didn’t feel despair when I failed because it happened so often, but I was embarrassed. I felt let down because I didn’t think that those results properly represented me.”

In the early chapters of the book he charts his struggles with expectation — his mother is frequently in tears, his father just as frequently exasperated. Even without VAT, it must have taken a large chunk of the trust fund established by Michael’s grandmother, the heiress Olive Middleton, to put his son through Marlborough. When that son had to spend a gap year retaking his A-level chemistry four times, a “humiliating record” for the school, he tells him his education was “a waste of money”.

Although today Middleton studiously avoids criticising his school or his beloved parents — he learnt valuable survival skills at Marlborough, he tells me, and “Mum and Dad just wanted the best for me” — the pressure was clearly intense. He sought escape from that pressure in nature and in dogs. “I was an outcast … alienated from my classmates,” he writes. “But dogs never judged me. Mum asked repeatedly if I wanted to bring friends home to stay at weekends. But truthfully all I wanted to do was to see Tilly.”

Tilly was the family’s golden retriever, but from an early age Middleton was desperate for his own dog. His parents, on the other hand, continued to be desperate for him to succeed. And so, after that long summer of resits, he squeaked into Edinburgh University, choosing criminology, environmental studies and geography modules because he was “pretty certain they would all be multiple choice”. They weren’t, of course, and he failed his first-year exams. More crying from Mum, more exasperation from Dad, more solace from a dog, this time his own.

“For all my reservations, I shall be eternally grateful for the time I spent in Edinburgh because it is thanks to Ben, a university friend, that I find my adored dog Ella,” he writes, introducing us to the dog that saved his life. Despite his best efforts, puppies and student life are not compatible, and when he was banned from bringing Ella to lectures he finally abandoned his studies. “I knew that if I left university I’d be responsible for that decision,” he says. “It was a big step, but I had Ella with me, as my companion and my responsibility.”

Middleton’s story is not exactly Angela’s Ashes. When he announces that he is ditching his degree to become an entrepreneur in London, he is cut off, he tells us, from the Bank of Mum and Dad, but he can still move in with his sisters at the family’s flat in Chelsea. His uncle Gary Goldsmith, he of Celebrity Big Brother 2024 notoriety, is also on hand to invest in his cake kit start-up. Nobody in this story is going to find themselves on the street.

But cynics desist! Don’t underestimate the impact of parental expectation, nor of not conforming to the traditional model of success. Middleton, anxious and increasingly socially uncomfortable, had left his friends in Edinburgh and washed up in London with his dog.

“She was my shield,” he says. “Through her I could enjoy things. I could take her for a walk and see what she was seeing. I process a lot of things in my mind and that can be overwhelming, but she helped me open my eyes and realise everything was OK.”

There are, I’m sure, many advantages to being royal adjacent, but when his sister Catherine started dating Prince William in 2004, Middleton found the level of media interest “shocking”. A young man who used his dog as an excuse to leave parties early was not equipped for the spotlight, for stepping out of the flat into a sea of flashing cameras.

“I’d never seen a royal wedding,” he says, rather sweetly. “There hadn’t been one in my lifetime. Not a big one anyway. I wasn’t aware of the scale or the global interest. I just felt privileged that my sister was asking me to do it, and it meant something to her. I wanted to make sure I did it.”

His description of the intense amount of practice he put in to the reading is like a potted version of The King’s Speech — he stutters, he stumbles, he takes lessons with the voice coach Anthony Gordon Lennox, he reads nervously and then more confidently to an audience of one dog ­— Ella, of course — in Chelsea Old Church. And then it’s the big day. “Really, the build-up to Catherine’s wedding was no different to Pippa’s or other friends’ weddings,” he says, unbelievably. Just the family, 1,900 guests, Her Majesty, an archbishop and a few world leaders. Watching the recording back today, there’s no hint of nerves — Middleton, 24 at the time, gives a bravura performance. Afterwards an American production company wrote to ask if he’d like to star in his own film — their opening offer was $1 million.

“They even ventured,” he writes wryly, “that members of my wider family might like to take part.” Middleton is not unaware of how everything is distorted by his proximity to royalty.

On the surface the next few years of Middleton’s life read like a Hello! magazine special — parties, holidays on Mustique, holidays in the Alps, a blossoming relationship with a glamorous older woman (the actress Donna Air, about whom his parents were hesitant because of the eight-year age gap), weekends at Sandringham (“Did you get my message, James?” the Queen asked the first time he visited. “Ella is welcome to stay in your room.”) But then came the night of despair in pyjamas on a Chelsea rooftop. Long sessions of cognitive behavioural therapy followed with a psychiatrist who was happy for Ella to attend too. She was, Middleton says, the only reason he kept going.

In December 2017, his mental health still fragile, he left London without telling anyone and holed up in a remote cottage in the Lake District. While his family grew frantic with worry, much to his irritation (“I’m a grown man”), he describes three days of elemental existence — fetching firewood and water, heating soup, walking Ella and her two pups. For the first time in a year he enjoyed a deep sleep and, in front of the fire after a wild swim with his dogs, he felt fleetingly happy.

“Dogs are amazing,” he says and all five of the dogs in the cottage with us — three spaniels and two beautiful golden retrievers — look delighted. “They do just sense things. Ella had been with me in every therapy session, she was always with me. I think we can learn from dogs. They’re not thinking about yesterday or tomorrow. They’re not even thinking about the next couple of hours. They’re thinking about right now. I’m here, they’re here, in the moment.”

As Middleton’s recovery continued, he says his sisters understood — they both had friends who had depression — but his parents struggled. “They were uncomfortable with the fact that I’d been labelled ‘clinically depressed’,” he writes. “To people of their generation, I can understand why it was concerning. Society was only just starting to break through the stigma.”

The solution, in the end, was to invite the family to the therapy sessions. “I felt guilty because I knew they were worried,” he says. “They felt guilty because it’s really hard if you’re not able to help the people you love the most. I was finally understanding how I felt but I got nervous trying to translate that to my family without the help of an interpreter. When they came into the sessions they had the opportunity to ask questions that I couldn’t necessarily answer.”

In the 13 years since Catherine’s wedding Middleton’s hair has receded a little, but he now has a beard for balance — a little twirl of his moustaches and he could be a not-too-distant cousin of Tsar Nicholas II. He probably is — this generation of Middletons is not the first to hang out with royalty. He looks less bright and bushy-tailed than he did in 2011, but that might be fatherhood or the weekend with friends he has just returned from in Norfolk. Or it might simply be the passing of enough eventful years.

Whatever it is, he tells me he is now happy, which, given the depths of his depression, he still finds extraordinary. His idea of what constitutes success has changed — he is no longer motivated by money but by the things in life about which he is passionate. He doesn’t even like the word entrepreneur any more.

Having stepped away from Boomf, a marshmallow delivery company (Boomf is the sound a marshmallow makes falling from a letterbox), he started James & Ella, a “premium freeze-dried raw dog food” company in 2020. He clearly finds it easier to be passionate about dogs than marshmallows. But it’s in his personal life that the change has been most dramatic.

“I remember sitting in the therapist’s chair with Ella’s head on my lap, wondering how long it was going to take to get better,” he says. “But within a year I had met my future wife. And we’re now here with an 11-month-old son, living on a farm with six dogs. If someone had told me that would happen, I’d have been annoyed. It would have just seemed so ridiculous.”

He met Thevenet, 34, at a members club in South Kensington, west London, in 2018. Ella, having actively disapproved of several previous girlfriends, broke the ice by going over to her table. They married in the south of France in 2021 (a Hello! magazine world exclusive, naturally) and Ella was a flower girl. And everyone lived happily ever after.

Except, alas, the dog. It is one of life’s cruelties that man’s best friend has a much shorter life expectancy than man. Just asking Middleton about the death of Ella, early one Saturday in January 2023, makes him emotional. Despite being given two weeks to live the previous September, she had made it through Christmas, perhaps buoyed by the thought of one final week in the Alps. Of course Middleton was with her when she took her last breath at 3am. The whole family, including William and Catherine, gathered in his parents’ garden for what sounds like an extensive memorial on the Sunday.

“Saying goodbye to Ella was not just saying goodbye to her as a dog,” Middleton says. “It was everything I’d been through with her. She had arrived just as I was starting out in my twenties and she was leaving as I’d finally figured things out in my mid-thirties. She put me on the right path and I didn’t want another day from her. I didn’t want another hour. I would have loved it but I didn’t need it. “She was sent to me before I even knew I needed her, but she chose me. She was able to transform my life better than any human could have done and then she put me in the capable hands of someone and together we’re now raising our own family.”

Eight days after Ella was buried in her favourite sheepskin, Alizée interrupted Middleton’s mourning to announce that she was pregnant. He is convinced Ella knew and that her death was a kind of passing of the torch. His son, Inigo, was born last autumn. “I hope there’s an Ella who will find Inigo, if there’s a time in his life when he needs it,” he says, as one of the golden retrievers has a long stretch.

If you’re not a dog person, you might find this cosmic canine intervention a bit much. Whether Ella was the ultimate therapist or a very effective placebo, it worked for Middleton. His sisters’ families are also fully invested in the joys of cocker spaniels — Pippa has one of Ella’s sons and Catherine, whose announcement of the end of her chemotherapy treatment comes a few days after this interview, now has one of Ella’s granddaughters — no corgis to date. Middleton himself now regards his mental health crisis as a blessing. “Although I would never wish it on anybody and I would never want to go through it again, I’m pleased it happened. It was an opportunity to recalibrate and to re-evaluate what matters.” Happiness, he says, is what matters. Happiness and lots of dogs. Meet Ella: The Dog Who Saved My Life by James Middleton (Radar £22). 

[goosewithtwoos]

SLUMBER PARTY

Pairing: Bob x Reader

Summary: Phoenix left some aphrodisiac brownies at your house - you accidentally eat one

DISCLAIMER: yeah i got no fwicking clue how aphrodisiacs work so this is more of a crack post than anything don’t take it too seriously

“You brought brownies!” You squeal, running up to hug your best friend.

Phoenix was carrying a small box of brownies that were perfectly decorated with powdered sugar. Your mouth was watering just looking at them.

“Hands off!” She cries, holding them over her head. “It’s a gift for someone. I’m going to a bachelorette party later.”

You pout. “Not even one?”

“Not even one.”

The two of you head inside, catching up on things and discussing plans for your next official leave. You were trying to schedule a trip with everyone down to Sanibel island off the coast of Florida but Hangman was being difficult and said the time he’d spent in Pensacola had been enough to last a lifetime.

You helped Phoenix get ready for the party, doing her makeup for her. Having grown up with four older brothers, Phoenix had never had time to play with makeup. You didn’t mind - in fact, you loved doing makeup for other people.

After about 45 minutes, a phone rang. Phoenix picks hers up only to find that it was your phone that was ringing.

You grab it off the vanity and check the caller ID.

Bob.

You show your phone to Phoenix who grins wildly. She’s known about your crush on her WSO ever since she had introduced you.

“Hello?” You ask tentatively. It was rare that he’d call you. Typically, he’d call someone else and ask them to ask you something.

“Hey, uh, sorry this is weird for me to call. I was just wondering -“

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You looked at Phoenix, silently pleading with her for help.

‘Put him on speaker’ She mouths. You quickly do so, holding your breath lest he notices the change.

“I have your credit card. You left it at the Hard Deck last night and Penny gave it to me. I was wondering when would be a good time to drop it off?”

‘Right now!’ Phoenix mouths.

‘Right now?’ You mouth back, looking at the state of your room and yourself in the mirror. She nods frantically, turning around and quickly reorganizing your things back into the drawers.

“Umm…well I’m home right now if you wanted to bring it over.” You hoped you came across at least slightly suave instead of a panicking mess.

“Oh!” Bob sounded caught off guard. “Yeah, I can do that. Do you want me to leave it in your mailbox?”

Phoenix whips her head around. ‘No!’

“No? I mean, no! I’ve uh…been having a lot of mail theft recently. You can never been too careful.”

Bob hummed. “Mail theft is a huge deal. You should report it. I remember my sister had a problem with that for a while too.”

Bless. his. heart.

“Yeah…” Your voice died off, trying to figure out if this actually was real life or simply some dream. Bob was coming over. Your heart fluttered at the idea. “So! Um, when should I expect you?”

“Maybe like 30 minutes? I just left the PX and rush hour is kinda crazy at this time of day.”

Phoenix was grinning wickedly. She gave you two thumbs up and the look in her eyes told you that maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea.

You made a noise of agreeance in the back of your throat. “Sounds perfect.”

The next 30 minutes of your life we’re some of the most stress inducing you’d ever faced. You wanted everything to be perfect. Phoenix had high tailed it out of there, nearly forgetting her purse, and you sped cleaned the whole house like the president was coming to visit.

Sure, he was probably just going to come to the door, drop off your card, and leave but the small glimmer of hope you held made you clean. Maybe this time you’d actually have the balls to ask him to come inside.

A soft knock at your door announced his arrival. You scrambled from the couch, brushing down your shirt and fixing your hair before answering the door.

“Hey!” He choked out, taking in your figure. Your flight suit was pretty conservative along with you cammies. It was a rare occasion for him to see you in your civilian clothes. “This is for you.”

You took the card from him, careful to not accidentally brush his hand with yours.

“Thank you so much, I don’t know how I could have forgotten this.” You quickly shove the card into your back pocket for safe keeping.

He quickly shoved his hands in his front pocket and shrugged. “Happens to the best of us.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say and didn’t trust yourself to not randomly blurt out an ‘I love you’, so you settled for an awkward silence.

After you both had stared at each other for far too long, he gave you a quick nod and started to pivot away. “Well, guess I’ll see you back at in on Monday.”

Damn it, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to invite him in and talk and maybe watch a movie and hold hands a little. Not have him walk away after less than a minute on your doorstep.

“Do you wanna come in?” You blurt out, surprising not only him but also yourself. “I have to give you something as an appreciation. I probably have a beer or something.” Fucking dumbass.

He turned back towards you, removing his hands from his pockets.

“I won’t take a beer but I will take a water.”

You stepped out of the doorframe allowing room for him to enter. “I do in fact also have water.”

He entered and then followed as you walked to the kitchen. It was small but good enough to make borderline decent meals. You weren’t much of a chef anyways and ate at the chow hall more than you’d care to admit.

“Do you want ice and a glass or just a bottle?” You ask, turning to the cupboard.

“Just a glass, no ice.” He said, taking in your decor.

This wasn’t a permanent lodging, just for the time you’re stationed here, but you still liked to decorate a little bit. Felt more like something you could call home.

You poured a glass and handed it to him, brushing his fingers as you did.

Your heart picked up from the slight touch and you cursed yourself for being such a child. You were a Naval aviator, you should be able to touch someone without having your mind go completely blank. Yet alas. Your mind was gone the moment his fingers touched yours.

He took a sip, then motioned with his chin to a tupperware sitting on the counter. “You just make those?”

You tilted your head, confused on how the hell a tupperware ended up on your counter. You went to inspect it only to find they were the brownies Phoenix had brought over for the bachelorette party. She must have forgotten them in her hurry to leave.

“Uh, these actually aren’t even mine.” You admit, wondering if it would be worth calling her back for them or not. She’d probably already be there by now. Guess if she really wanted them she would have called and asked. “Phoenix made them. She stopped by earlier and I guess she left them.”

His shoulders slumped a little bit at the news.

“But it doesn’t seem like she’s gonna come back for them any time soon and it would be a real shame to waste them.” You quickly follow up. The look on his face was worth it. You didn’t really want a brownie but you knew he wouldn’t eat one if you didn’t.

You pulled two paper towels and grabbed a brownie for the both of you, handing one to him and smelling yours. God, it smelled so good. Were these really made by Phoenix? They smelled like they were made by chocolatiers from some fancy Paris bakery.

“To Bob, for returning my card.” You said as a mock toast. He raised his brownie in turn before you took a bite in tandem.

Holy shit - they tasted even better than they smelled.

You quickly finished yours before grabbing a glass of water for yourself.

Bob stayed for a while, chatting in your kitchen about everything and anything. The conversation was completely normal so it was surprising when you felt the intense need to get off.

Your heart rate picked up rapidly and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Your replies slowly turned from interesting, full and comprehensive sentences, to a mix of ‘mhm’ and ‘oh yeah’. God, why couldn’t you get control of yourself?

“Do you wanna go sit down?” You gasp out, fingers gripping the cup for dear life.

“Yeah, good idea.” Bob was looking much more pale than usual but you chocked that up to your terrible lighting and white countertops.

The two of you sat in the living area, a far enough distance from each other on the couch to make it awkward. You pulled your knees to your chest, hoping that the squeezing of your thighs would be able to help alleviate some of the feeling.

What was happening? You typically had self control but this was excessive. God, you needed a cold shower.

“So - uh - how’s your sister?” You also, trying to think of the least sexy topic.

“Good.” His reply was short and quick. His chest was heaving slightly, looking like he had just run a mile. Was he feeling the same thing you were? His composure seemed to be dissolving just like yours. “Sorry, I’m just a little bit warm. Do you mind if I take this off?” He gestured to his sweater, lightly tugging at the bottom.

You screamed internally. “Of course.” Fuck, once he mentioned heat, your whole body exploded and you needed to take a polar plunge.

Even once his sweater was off, he kept readjusting.

“I’ll turn a fan on.” The moment you stood, you knew something was really wrong. Your legs were like jello. Your heart was racing as your body ached with desperation.

The fan did little to help you cool off and the feeling was simply just getting worse. You had been talking about something, taxes maybe? Something that should have been a complete turn off but Bob was looking at you like he wanted to ravish you.

Your voice trailed off when you realized he wasn’t even paying attention to what you were saying and you couldn’t even remember where your sentence had died off.

“I’m so sorry, I promise I’m trying to listen, I don’t…” He was audibly panting, adjusting his collar. “Fuck, can I kiss you?”

The heat between your thighs was like nothing you’d ever felt before. “Mhm.” You manage to nod, trying desperately to not go insane. You needed his hands on you, like, yesterday.

In an instant, he pulled you into a lip bruising kiss, bucking his hips the moment you straddled him. He was so hard already, you were surprised by how needy he was before anything had even happened.

You kissed like the world was going to end. Like you needed each other like some sort of drug.

His hands found your waist, massaging your sides. You couldn’t help but grind your hips down on his, relishing the sounds he made. When his fingers slipped under your shirt, cold hands touching your warm skin, you gasped into his mouth.

“I need you so bad.” He whined.

“Say it again.” The pounding in your chest increased rapidly at his admission.

“I - I need you. Oh my God.” He cried as you bit down on the soft spot beneath his ear. “You can’t keep doing that.”

You smirk, dragging your tongue along the sensitive spot. “This?”

His whole body shook as he pulled you down tighter against him. “Y-yeah, that.” You couldn’t tell if the movement of your hips was your doing or his strong hands, pushing and pulling you back and forth.

“Can I take your shirt off?” He begs.

“God, yes, please.” You reply. His hands quickly pulled your t-shirt up and over, throwing it somewhere across the room.

Seeing your chest turned him feral. In an instant, his eyes darkened and all inhibition was gone.

“Jesus Christ.” He mutters, cupping your chest through your bra and squeezing. “I could die in between these.”

“Fuck me first.” You pant. You felt like your whole body was on fire. You needed friction, for him to touch you, anything.

He leaned forward and licked from the center of your chest slowly up your neck. You’d never had anyone else do anything like that but it was hot all the same. A strong hand lightly gripped your throat, pressing down enough to feel something but not enough to cut off any blood flow.

“God, you’re gorgeous. Could keep you on my lap forever.” He growls.

Something about the possessiveness made your mind short circuit.

“Robert.” You moan, pressing yourself down again. Every nerve was on fire. You were on fire. You were going to burn and you were going to burn with him.

“I got you, honey.” His southern drawl slowly making its way into his speech. You’d always been interested in saving a horse and riding a cowboy, and now seemed like a good time to try it.

You smashed your mouths back together and began pawing at the bottom of his shirt. You wanted it off but you didn’t want to peel yourself away from him.

He made quick work of the buttons on your shorts, pulling down the zipper and pressing two fingers against you. It felt so good - too good - and you needed him now.

"Please, please, please." You were begging a man, and you couldn't care less.

“I got you baby, you don’t need to beg. I’ll give it to you. Fuck, gonna give it to you so good.” His fingers were inside you, working you open, thumb pressing against your clit.

You threw your head back, groaning in agony and pleasure as he presses against your g-spot.

“Gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles more to himself than anyone else. You were riding his fingers like a pro, swiveling your hips and grinding down like you’d done it a hundred times before.

“I need…I need you in me.” You moan out.

“I am in you.” He teases, biting down on your shoulder.

This cocky little son of a - “Robert Jameson Floyd.” You whine again. You’d never been reduced to whining and begging before but suddenly, it was the only thing you could do.

He groans when you call him by his full name. His fingers pull out, tapping your folds a few times before being pulled from your shorts completely. He lifts them and - damn him - sticks them into his mouth, acting as if it was the most delicious thing he’d had all week. “You need to take these off.”

Brilliant idea.

You stand, quickly removing your shorts and panties in a fluid move. He unbuckles his jeans and pushes them down. His boxers came off almost immediately afterwards and your eyes went wide.

You’d known he was pretty. Hell, he was probably the prettiest man you’d ever seen, but you didn’t realize that every inch of him was going to be pretty. And big.

You swallow, eyes flicking up to meet his. He was panting, looking at you and you realized you didn’t feel self conscious at all. You felt good, safe, and sexy. You’d probably ask to marry him if he could fuck you as good as he was saying he could.

“How’d you want this?” He asks.

“You’re from Texas, right?” You ask and he nods. “I’ve always been interested in saving horses.”

He throws his head back, laughing. “If it weren’t you standing naked in front of me right now, I’d be getting up and leaving. That was the worst thing I’ve ever heard. Get over here.”

You suppress a laugh, sitting back down on his lap, feeling him hard as a rock underneath you. "Your shirts coming off." You say, pulling at it.

He removes his glasses, shaking his head lightly, tousling his hair even more than your hands had. With or without his glasses, he made it hard to breathe. When he removes his shirt, you were sure he'd knocked the wind out of you entirely.

Your mind couldn't think of anything to say so you opted for leaning down and capturing him into another kiss. His large hands wrap around your side, kneading the flesh beneath. You had began rocking your hips back and forth without even realizing it until his hand stopped you.

"I want to get inside you before I come from just this." He admits, resting his forehead against yours.

You nod, still unable to form coherent thoughts. "Yeah, yeah that's a good idea."

You lift your hips as he lines himself up. Much to your pleasure, he didn't force you down and allowed for you to go at your own pace. It had been a while and you were tight. He hisses through his teeth as you sink down.

"Fit inside me so good." You tell him. He throws his head back, letting out a low moan. You were glad he wasn't the type of man who tried to silence himself. He sounded so beautiful. "Could stay here forever."

"Fuck me first." He says, bucking his hips ever so slightly, echoing your words from earlier.

Who were you to decline such a polite request?

You lift yourself up, enjoying how his eyes immediately snap down to watch where you're connected. The grip on your hips tightens as you go back down.

It felt like your senses were heightened. Every inch of him was sending flames through you. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest and Bob looked no better.

He was watching intensely as you moved, mouth ajar. You press your hands against his chest and lean forward ever so slightly. The change of angles makes you see stars.

"Oh my God." You cry out. He felt impossibly deep and so, so good.

"Feels better than I ever thought possible." He groans. "Just like you were made for me."

"Thought about this before?" You tease, spelling your name with your hips. What size ring was he?

Bob's hand leaves your waist and trails down to your clit. "Often." With a light pinch, you're doubling over, crying out with a mix of broken moans and his name.

"You're gonna make me come fast if you keep doing that." You warn him. As much as you wanted to come, the thought of this being over made you want to hold off as long as possible.

He pinches again. "I'm no better, darlin. Come whenever, I'll be right behind you." The feeling of him inside you was making you crazy. You were losing your mind and felt entirely content with it. "Fuck, keep doing that."

Your orgasm was rapidly approaching. You'd never come this quickly before and it would be embarrassing if Bob weren't so stunningly handsome and crying out just as much as you were. Sweat was beading on his forehead, causing his baby hairs to stick down.

You run your hand across his head, moving both the hairs and his head back. He looks at you, all fucked out, and the sight alone is perfect shower head masturbation material for the next few months.

"You're so beautiful." He says, his eyes glazed over, like he couldn't believe that you were real. "Can't believe this is real."

You moan in agreeance. This was beyond your wildest dreams. You would have never imagined this as a possible scenario for how the day would go. Part of you began to worry this was all a dream and you'd wake up to find your credit card was in your wallet the whole time.

He shifted and your world exploded. He was deeper than you ever thought possible. God, it felt so good. So, so good. Too good.

"Robert, I'm gonna come." You cry out, gripping his shoulders like a vice. His lips wrap around your chest, sucking and biting down, the harsh breath feeling like Heaven and Hell all at the same time, before he roughly pulls back.

"You gotta get up before I come inside you." He warns, the grip on your hips loosening.

You force your hips back down, tightening your thighs around him. "I'm on the pill, I wanna feel you. Give it to me, please?" You asked it so innocently but your words were filthy.

"Yeah?" He breathes out. "Want me to come inside you? Fill you up?" You clench around him. "You like that, huh? Like the idea of me marking you as mine. Tell me you want it."

"I want it, I want it." You chant. "Please give it to me. Need to feel you inside me."

He takes your other breast into his mouth, bouncing you with more urgency. "Gonna fill you up so good." You hear him mumble around you.

He pinches your clit and you're a goner. Your orgasm rips through you and you're coming harder than you've come before around him. You can tell you're saying something but your mind is so blank, you're not quite sure what it is.

"Holy fuck." He moans, hips stilling as you feel him come inside you.

You're both panting, resting foreheads against each other. You can feel him spilling out but make no effort to move. This was something you'd want to savor for as long as you lived. A size 10 ring would probably fit him nicely.

He presses a kiss to your cheek. His hands pull your hair from your face back into a makeshift pony tail from where it had been sticking to your neck with sweat before letting it fall. "You're amazing."

You laugh lightly, never having been told that after getting absolutely railed before. "I think that belongs to you. I've never had someone make me come that quickly before."

"Same." He agrees. He finds his glasses, putting them on and blinking rapidly to readjust his vision. "A goddess, for sure."

You laugh and swat at his chest. "A cowboy, for sure." He groans, rolling his head back.

“Oh, who the fuck is calling me right now?” You breathed out as your phone began ringing, pulling you from your lovely little bubble. Your heart dropped when you saw who it was. It was Phoenix. You didn't get off him, simply grabbing your phone from the table and answering “Hello?”

“Hey girl, I’m so sorry I just realized I left the brownies at your place! Don’t eat them okay? They’re for a prank.” Her voice was rushed as she got out every word.

“What do you mean ‘they’re for a prank’?”

“They’re aphrodisiac.”

Ah.

[cardigan-ns]

My first call

Pairing: Ben Hargreeves x Little Sister!Reader

Request: can u do ben hargreeves x little sister reader? maybe some angst? (season 4)

Summary: You two were the only ones who survived the sparrow academy, he was your sole caregiver and he was trying desperately to make ends meet in this messed up universe, he ended up getting arrested and sent to prison for 4 years.

A/N: it’s also a little bit of Luther x Little sister!Reader too

Ben hated his father for stranding him in this timeline, not only was his entire family dead, but he had no money and the only sibling of his that was alive was his 11 year old sister. He loved her to pieces but he was struggling really bad with how to keep her happy and stable. She was his rock, anything he did, he did for her. She was his fighting chance at actually coping in life. But she knew just as much as him that some days were worse than others, they’d both sob to eachother sometimes after remembering the rest of the sparrow academy and how they’re now gone, ceased from existence.

He cursed the umbrella academy, how do they get to be reset and alive and he has to mourn his brothers and sisters while they all get to play happy family. They keep inviting him to things, and he keeps declining, he didn’t see the point, they’re strangers to him, they broke into his home one day and refused to leave him alone since. He wasn’t their Ben so why are they constantly holding on to him. All they’re doing is confusing his sister and he’d hope they’d cool off eventually but they never did.

2 years have passed and Ben is now feeling stable for once since landing here, Y/N was doing great in school, her grades were excellent, even better than what Ben was gaining at that age. His scams were earning him a lot of cash, yes he was bankrupting thousands of people at a time but who gives a shit, he’s able to buy his sister everything she needs and wants and she is very grateful for it. Although she doesn’t exactly know how he’s doing it, she expected he was getting the money from their father.

“Hey Ben?” You called from the table, you sat doing your homework. Ben was cooking you guys some dinner and glanced over his shoulder to acknowledge your calling. “How come we never see those umbrella people?” You questioned, you always wondered who those strangers truly were, from what you saw of them, they seemed like genuine people, a little off their rocker but meaning well. Ben just sighed at the mention of those utter morons and set the spatula down. “I’ve told you to stop asking about them. All they are is the reason we’re alive, big deal.” He blew off some steam in his response to you, all you were looking for was some small talk to help pass the time between algebra equations and dinner, but here Ben was throwing a hissy fit again. Like always.

You had the same stubbornness as him, so with a set down of your pen you glared at him, he glared at you. “I saw that one of them sent a card in the mail. You still haven’t opened it.” Ben rolled his eyes and remembered the card that Luther had sent the two of you, he had a feeling it’d be a bunch of nonsense and that’s why he ignored never tearing the envelope open. “Leave it.” He concluded the argument and plated your dinner.

Tonight was an odd night, Ben was more on edge than usual, he kept opening his laptop and closing it, wouldn’t eat all his dinner, kept changing the channels on the TV. He even payed the gas bill on time, he usually leaves it for as long as possible so he can con the gas man, gives him a discount because they think he can’t afford it and he pulls the “little sister” card, hoping that’d buy him some brownie points. You sat on your bed, reading an old edition of your favourite comic, Ben knocked on your door, holding a box of donuts. “Hey, I wanted to apologise for earlier.” He sat at the edge of your bed, you didn’t even care about the argument, you’ve had worse, but what you did care about were the treats he was handing you. “And you’re forgiven.” You immediately took the box from him and took a bite out of the sugary delicacy.

Ben laughed slightly at your immediate dismissal and he took a donut too, after he was eating it he looked over at you who had somehow got sugar everywhere. “How the hell…” he laughed again. You just shrugged your shoulders, closing the box and setting it on your bedside table. Ben stood up, yanking you off the bed and he brushed you out of the room, you knew exactly what he was asking you to do. Get clean bed sheets. You loved him but sometimes he was such a neat freak. You went and got some and walked back to find your bed stripped from the blue covers, Ben chucked the dirty laundry in the basket and he turned on the radio in your room. “You were supposed to change these last night, it’s like you were waiting to cover it in sugar.” You looked at him with narrowed eyes like he’d just caught you out on your extravagant plan. You set the folded piles of sheets on your chair and you jumped on your bed.

Ben just sighed as you completely ignored him clearly trying to change the bed. “Stop being difficult. It’ll take five minutes!” he had to looked up at you as you jumped in the air and back on your mattress repeatedly. “Ben come on, remember anytime dad made us go around and routinely change everyone sheets.” That was their chore, Ben always had you to tag along with him, he was your personal assistant, funny how life works, it’s the same old. But he does recall how on every bed, to ‘make sure it’s safe’ you’d jump on it and after a few moments of bickering so would he, he always had a mushy side to him, relatively a mushy side that was reserved for you.

“Screw you!” He muttered as he hopped on the bed too, and as the music on the radio played, you and Ben had a moment of peace, one that you haven’t felt in a very long time, you didn’t need to be suscepted to such violent trauma at a young age, Ben could barely handle it as a fully grown adult, he was always cautious at how he treated you, usually resulting in you feeling sheltered, he felt like if you had too much of a good time you’d crash out, remembering all the bad. But he was just happy and grateful to still have a moment like this with you.

Having spent the past 2 years watching over you, Ben grew to realise it’s always been his role to parent you, not his father, it brought him grief along with new found appreciation for the gift he was given, he still remembers when Reginald brought you home. There was a malfunction with your marigold, causing yours to appear at a later date, a lot later than the rest of the 43.

The sparrows were 19 when he brought you home in a stroller, Ben was hesitant at first, wondering if since you were new, Reginald would make you number 1, but seeing as you weren’t stealing his thunder, he kind of liked keeping you around. You always got sick as a child though, Grace tried her best to heal you but it was some nurture that always helped. Which is why Ben read some of his comics to you, taught you how to draw, taught you what good music was, gave you some fashion sense when you grew out of Hello Kitty and Barbie. Even though you swore you were a ‘grown up’ you kept that hello kitty nightlight by your bedside, even now. When you got scattered in this new timeline you couldn’t sleep for 2 months, until Ben purchased an exact replica, then you could finally get through to the morning.

That’s why it hurt even more when the cops raided the apartment after your calming moment. They dragged him out of your room, placing him under arrest for fraud and bankrupting thousands. One of the cops broke your night light, and broke your home…

“Y/N, I’ll sort this out okay? You’ll be my first call.” He tried to shake the burly men who held him in cuffs, they dragged him out of the room as his eyes poured with tears, guilt and horror. He was trying to keep you safe, trying to save some of your childhood, and now he’s gone and fucked it all up. You’ll never forgive him, he thought. The cops were dragging him out the door as you quickly shuffled to chase him, you were shocked and petrified. “Let me talk to my fucking sister.” Ben yelled and the cops figured he better, seeing as she was only a kid. “I don’t know where they’re going to take you, but I’m gonna come home, okay. I’ll find you.” He spoke softly as to mend your heart as it got ripped to shreds. And then he was out of sight, after that touching moment, your eyes welled into tears and you were shaking. He was all you had left.

One lesser aggressive cop, knelt down by you as they dragged your brother away from you. “Hi, sweetheart, I know this is a lot to process, but I’m going to stay here with you while some social workers arrive. They’re going to help you, the best they can.” Right now you wish you had your power, to just stop time, run down the hall and give Ben one last hug, you figured that’s the last you’d ever see him, no goodbye, no closure, your bed wasn’t even made.

“I’m not going to some home. Different parents. No. I’m not talking to a social worker. I’m staying here, waiting for them to bring Ben home. He didn’t do what you’re accusing him of!” You argued with the man in uniform, your lip quivering as you tried to stay strong, stand your ground, but you were just a kid wanting her safety back. The officer just gave you a saddened look, as if all you wanted couldn’t be. “Well do you have anyone you can call?” His question would’ve been easy if your other siblings survived the fucking apocalypse the umbrellas brought. Then as if a lightbulb went off you ran to the kitchen counter and grabbed the envelope from the top of the microwave, ripping it open.

‘Dear Ben and Y/N,

Just wanted to remind you that it’s our birthdays soon, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get dinner sometime? Everyone else is busy…

It’s okay if not,

Luther

[his number]’

You smiled, thanking Luther silently, he was always so formal, you’ve never been happy to see a bunch of randomised numbers, even though that was practically your childhood. “Officer, this is my brother, kind of.” You handed him the letter, he stood up and read through it, nodding, then walking to the next room to make a phone call. You ran to Ben’s room and just laid on his bed, pretending he was just getting the popcorn ready for your Saturday movie nights. A few stray tears fell down your face as you realised he was going to be sleeping in a cell and not his bed.

After a while of crying, your body gave out and you fell asleep, clutching the mini pillow you made for Ben at your youth club.

That’s until, after a while, a gentle hand shook you awake. You rolled over, forgetting all that happened while the sleep wore off. You saw two men before you, the officer and Luther. Luther sat at the edge of the bed, by you, he looked as though he’d been crying too. You haven’t seen him for two years so it was revelling to see one another again. You remembered him being a really nice man, he married your sister, so technically he was family. He and Sloane took you out to mini golf one day, Sloane always cheated, gravitating the ball into the hole. Luther broke about 4 golf clubs and you stopped time and cheated too. You hargreeves were never good at playing fair.

“Hey kiddo.” He muttered as all the memories of Ben’s arrest rushed back to you. You just clung to Luther in a hug and cried in his shoulder, the less stronger man just held you, gazing up at the officer. “I’ll take it from here, sir.” The cop nodded and left the apartment. You sniffled and wiped your eyes even though the waterworks kept on coming. “He’s not a bad guy, Luther.” You kept repeating similar phrases, pleading your brother’s innocence, as if convincing yourself he was getting out that night. “I know, I know.” Luther rubbed your back and he comforted you, it was difficult to see you like this again, the last time he saw you, you were just as devastated when you first got to this timeline.

After a while of him helping you calm back down, you sat beside him on the bed, he was going to stay with you, clean the apartment for you, after the cops made a mess of it, especially your room. It was really late though, you were tired and you just wanted nothing more than for Ben and you to chill while you nerded out about your favourite books. He loved poetry and you loved fantasy. Luther seemed like he likes those things too, if given the right recommendations, but he wasn’t like Ben. “Would you like anything in particular for breakfast tomorrow?” He smiled over to you as you still held the small pillow, looking at it. “I like cereal…” you shrugged, not really having an appetite and not wanting to think about how lonely the morning would be without him there to watch TV with. “Cereals good.” Luther nodded. He figured that once you were asleep he was going to make a run to the all night grocery, to get you a lot of things, he mostly emptied his wallet when he felt guilty.

It was still awkward having him here, and confusing, he was your brother in law, but he was also bens actual brother, but not your Ben, a different Ben, who had the same father but not the father you have. It gave you a headache the more you pondered on where Luther placed in your life. You got off the bed and walked silently to your room, noticing now just how badly it was banjaxed. Luther follows slowly behind and just stood at the door frame. “Just to let you know, I did tell the officer off for doing that.” He let you in on that fact, you just nodded and lifted pieces of your broken light, you sat on the floor, you weren’t going to sleep the whole night, the only way you slept earlier was because it still felt like Ben was here.

Luther lifted the pile of bedsheets that were still on your chair, untouched. The old sheets were still on top of the hamper, Ben still having not cleaned it. Luther got the mattress sheet and tried to put it on, but you immediately stopped him. “No!” You glared, not meaning to be so hasty, and Luther just tilted his head, confused. “But where are you going to sleep? You can just have a bare mattress.” He was trying to help but you took it as him dismissing your problems and trying to take over Ben’s role. “I said no! Just get out!” You yelled at him and Luther immediately dropped the sheets and slumped his shoulders, nodding and leaving you alone in your room. Gently closing the door behind him.

Ben never called, the entire night you sat up, not sleeping a wink, except between 3:45am and 4:23am then you woke, rushing to check the phones past logs, not a single one from Ben. Your room was still a mess, your lamp was still broken on the floor, Luther did try to come back into your room and clean it, not wanting you to get hurt by the shards. But yet again, you screamed at him to leave. And he took that as a hint and didn’t come back in… respectfully listening to your wishes, not getting mad at you for it.

You cried and cried and cried even more. Luther left the house for a little bit, which you later found out was because he went to the store, he slipped a note under your door,

‘Buying you some cereal, won’t be long

:)’

You smiled at his careful consideration to your needs. He was nice for that. Then morning came, you yawned and pulled yourself from the bed, growing more and more agitated the longer it took Ben to call. Maybe he forgot about you, and that hurt more than anything. Because you knew Ben wouldn’t just forget, he loved you. He would want to make sure you were safe.

Luther then drudged into the kitchen, scratching his head, he got out two bowls, and opened up the box of cereal, as you sat at the kitchen table staring at the phone, waiting for it to call. You propped your head up with your elbows, staring and staring and staring. “Good morning.” Luther called over to you and you just nodded, not giving back an answer. He poured the milk into the bowls of cereal and walked towards you, handing you a spoon along with it. “I had a feeling you liked cinnamon toast crunch.” He smiled to you. When he first got kidnapped by the sparrows, way back when, you were eating that while he had his toast and cashew butter.

“Thanks.” You took the bowl from him and took a bite, still looking at the phone.

3 days passed, no call. A week, a month, a year, 2 years, 4 years. 4 fucking years it took for a call.

You were 17 now, on your last year of high school, living in a nice home with Luther, you two had one another, you finally accepted him as your guardian and you two grew very close, turns out you two had more in common than you thought, he was still no Ben, but he was Luther, and you were okay with that. Acceptance, what a chilling thing.

Your niece and sister-in-law were visiting. Claire, she’s the age you were when Ben went away, it was always an odd reminder of how long it’s been. Allison sat in the kitchen with Luther as they talked about what their plans were for Christmas this year, Luther was making them some coffee as the phone rang. You payed no mind to it as you and Claire watched your favourite show across the room, you both decided it would be fun to draw your favourite characters at the coffee table while you watched, it was nice to just unwind and be free with expressing via art, you liked getting to know the umbrellas too, they were all super welcoming and loving, even though they had their differences.

Your favourite was probably Allison though, it was good to have another girl around, she helped you a lot with things that neither Ben nor Luther could help with, she let you stay at hers some nights as your school was closer by than Luther’s place. Lila also had you babysitting her kids sometimes while she went to ‘Book Club’ and Diego worked, they were a great addition to your life too, you even became close with Lila’s relatives and it was mending your soul having people there.

Luther was on the phone for a while, you just assumed it was Viktor, but Luther kept glancing over at you every so often, which was making you worried, your mind wandered to various possibilities. “Uh yeah, but when will that be?” Luther asked down the phone, he then got a notepad and a pen and wrote some things down. This call was distracting you from the peaceful time you were having with Claire and now you walked over to the kitchen, which was connected by an archway. Luther glanced over at you again and continued the call. “Okay, yeah I’ll come get him now.” Him. You yanked the notepad from Luther which had the address to the pickup lot at the state prison. Your mind was racing, he was finally getting out, finally coming home. But you weren’t as hopeful to see him as you used to be. It’s not that you’ve moved on, it’s just that you resented him for not calling when he said he would.

“Wanna come with me?” Luther asked as he knew you’d put the pieces together, the prison wasn’t that long of a drive maybe an hour and 30 minutes. It took you a while to even make your mind up about that, but Allison held your hand from where you stood. “I’m sure he had a good reason for doing what he did.” She squeezed your hand and you just didn’t move, still confused. If he did have a good reason for leaving you in the dark it better be extremely fucking good of an excuse. Or else you wouldn’t let him off easy. Allison stood up and hugged you before she and Claire had to go back home and pick up Klaus from their house.

You held her tightly, knowing that if Ben comes back, maybe he would isolate her from her new found family again. “Bye, Allison.” You mumbled into her shoulder and she laughed slightly rubbing your back and pulling away to look at you, her cheek caressing your face, “He’s missed you, I know he has.” You just smiled, not truly believing that, she just held her free hand out for Claire and you just sighed knowing they had to go home, and you and Luther had to go get Ben, it was actually happening. “You can call me about it later if you’d like.” She assured you and that made you feel a whole lot better about it. You just gave her a thumbs up and she made her exit.

In the car with Luther was anything less than fun. He tried to play some music, tried to play ‘i spy’, as if you were four, and even tried to sing. All of which made you even more tense. You love this bafoon but right now was not the time, which he shortly caught on to. “I know you’re anxious, remember what the doctor said, use your senses.” You’d been in therapy for a while, having too much to spew to them, you and Luther figured it was for the best if you went weekly. You listened to Luther’s advice and focused on everything around you.

Then he began to pull up to the gate, and parked the car. He turned to face you, “Okay, no matter what happens, we will get through this together, as a family, and I know that once he’s back on his feet, you’ll probably stay with him again.” He smiled, but you didn’t even think about that, not much, not deeply, not anymore. You missed Ben being there, but you were free now, stable, even though you bought another hello kitty night light with the money you earned from your part time job. “But I’m always available if you want to stay.” He smiled lovingly, and put his hand up to high five you. “We got this, Kiddo.” He smiled and opened the car door, as did you, as you guys did that they opened the prison doors and released Ben, who was in the very outfit he was arrested in, as if time stopped and you were 13 again, you didn’t realise just how difficult this would be, but here you were, going through it.

Ben halted once he saw Luther, “Fuck me.” He muttered to himself, then you emerged and his demeanour softened significantly. You’ve gotten so much older, he’d missed out on so many years with you. You stood there, hands in your pockets, a little guarded. Then Luther, nudged you, “Go say hello. He’s not a stranger.” Luther smiled at you, encouraging you to do this, he knew that deep down you’ve been praying for this moment since he left. Ben walked to the end of the fenced prison and was by the car, he didn’t know how to approach you, whether you’d kick him, hug him or punch him.

“Look at you,” Ben frowned, regretting ever committing fraud, regretting not providing for you normally. “You look like shit.” You responded back to him, noticing just how run down prison made him. You had a right to be angry but Ben just didn’t expect you to be so cold. He just nodded and Luther stood behind you trying to figure out how to ease the hostility, but to no conclusion as you spoke again.

“Get in the car, we’ve got places to be.” You completely dismissed Ben, and he seemed like someone just ripped his heart out and played basketball with it. “Jesus.” He lowered his head and shoved his bag in the car, taking the ego wound and sitting in the back seat, while you and Luther took the front. The engine started and off you guys went to the birthday party of your other niece.

When the car pulled up outside the play area Luther thought it’d be best to walk in already and leave the two of you to hash it out in the car, until you were ready to come in. You mentally cursed Luther because of that, you didn’t want to talk to Ben, you weren’t prepared.

“Why didn’t you call me?” You sat in the front seat playing with the hem of your hoodie, and Ben sat directly behind you, it’s as if it were confessions. He just gazed out the window and remembered how he promised you, he swore to you that he would, yet never followed through with it. “I didn’t want to give you false hope.” He spoke bluntly, sending a harsh chill down your spine, your brother would’ve gave you the benefit of the doubt, would’ve called to say he wouldn’t be home for a while, wouldn’t have just left you wondering without closure.

“You didn’t go to my trial, didn’t visit. I thought I did the right thing.” He was so sure in himself and you just scoffed, exiting the car and attempting to storm away to the building, but Ben quickly hopped out after you. “Stop! Okay? We aren’t done here.” Your face was completely and utterly gobsmacked. “Oh, aren’t we? You left me no other choice, how the hell was I meant to know? Nobody alerted me there was a trial, I was practically fighting to survive, I didn’t give Luther a chance and now you’re wondering why I gave up on you? Because you did it to me first!” You yelled a little too loud for this area, children and parents walking to and from the play place.

Ben just shook his head, aggravatingly, “You just couldn’t wait to talk to Luther. Always, Ben why haven’t we talked to him? Ben open the letter, Ben we need these people. Now look what they’ve done to you. You’re just as spiteful as them!” Ben was always defensive, casting blame to anyone but himself, self righteous in a way, which you never realised until now. “Jesus Christ, do you actually hear yourself? And what did I tell you? They’re good people. The only spiteful one is you!” You pointed to him in a fit of rage. “I was a child, with no guardian, no home, of course I was going to reach out to the only people I fucking knew.” You screamed your hands waving in the air to get your point across, Ben needed this reality check, he was away in disaster land.

Ben realised the gravity of his arrest now, how lonely and cursed she must’ve felt, but yet again he wasn’t going to let her make him the complete bad guy here. “I was doing what I needed, to keep us alive.” He breathed out knowing you wouldn’t see that, you were still very angry, and torn, on one hand you were overwhelmed at him being here and talking with you again, and on the other, you’re deeply missing your brother, wishing he didn’t do what he did. You just wanted your old bond back.

“I don’t know what to do.” You shrugged, helpless to this experience. “But I do know that the people in there, they’re just trying to make us part of their family. So let them.” You were commanding in your tone, just hoping Ben would consider it, when you finished talking he was against it completely. “Have you forgot what they’ve done? Our family, OUR ACTUAL FAMILY, are dead! Because of those fucking degenerate assholes.” He crossed his arms now sitting on the bench by the front door, looking at the ground. “I don’t want to replace them with carbon copies.” His voice somber, making you remember The Sparrow Academy and all the things you experienced with your short-lived-family.

You sat by Ben, interlocking your arm with his, showing him that you were on his side, after all, that’s what the both of you were fighting about. Ben glanced at you before resting his head by yours. “I’m sorry I didn’t call…” he spoke quietly and you just sighed. “I know you are.” You just accepted that you can’t go back and change what he’d done, he was ashamed and took the cowards way out, knowing he’d have years before he’d face you again. He just didn’t expect you to grow up with the same short temper and stubbornness as him.

You loved Ben and you hoped that whenever you got to Luther’s place that night, that you could jump on the bed to the radio blasting again, just like old times.

[elizabethemerald]

Girl's Knight

It was supposed to be girl’s night. Tim was on Comms so Barbara could be here, and the rest of the Bats had all but forced them to take the night off, each of them promising that they would handle the crime of the city so the girls could relax for one night. The plan had been a movie at the theater, dining out in their fanciest dresses that were usually only used for stuffy galas, then returning to the clocktower for drinks and makeovers. Not to mention looking through Babara’s cache of black mail videos of all the fails of the boys. 

Of course, they still lived in Gotham. When did anything go to plan in Gotham? 

The theater had been attacked by Dr. Freeze. He basically turned the whole building into a snowglobe. Since no one was inside it, Batman was just going to leave the building to thaw normally. So they should be able to enjoy movies there again sometime in April. The fancy restaurant turned out to be a front for a mob family and while they knew that, Jim Gordon had jumped the gun on cracking down and shut the place down. Babs was going to give her dad an annoyed call tomorrow about that one. 

So now the trio of Barbara, Cassandra and Stephanie were at Batburger in their gala finest. The night could still be saved if they could just get back to the clock tower. Then Condiment King strutted into the Batburger. All three of them sighed and Cass and Steph started silently arguing back and forth on who would slip out to deal with him. No matter who stayed and who left, there were even odds of all of them getting covered in something foul smelling. 

However all three of them were surprised when a pair at another table were the ones to rise. 

Cassandra had of course clocked them when she entered, that part of her brain that she could never shut off had cataloged every person in the restaurant before she was even fully past the door. 

The woman was tall, taller than any of her brothers. Even taller than Bruce. She might even be as tall as Wonder Woman. She had long flaming red locks that cascaded down her back, restrained only by a teal headband. She had sat facing the entrance and had clearly clocked the Batgirl trio as fighters as well. She was well muscled and moved with the practiced grace of a trained martial artist. When Condiment King had appeared she had seemed more annoyed than scared or truly bothered by him. 

Her companion was skinny and small in the same way that street kids usually were, the same way Jason had been and even Cass herself. Like no matter how much food he ate it would never be enough to make up for not getting enough as a kid. Even though he had his back to the entrance he had still been aware of every person as they came and went, cocking his head and tracking them by sound alone. He looked to be the same age Cass was. Cass could tell they were siblings, though they looked just about as different as possible. 

The two of them had conversed in rapid sign language, the woman speaking and signing, while he listened and signed back. It made Cassandra’s heart leap, seeing someone else just like her. She had just happened to sit so she could read some of his signs while showing that she used ASL as well. Though he apparently didn’t like his food very much because he kept saying something about “nasty burgers.” 

Right before Condiment King had walked in, the guy had sat up and shivered before looking around warily. His sister had sighed and carefully wiped her fingers on her napkin, unhurried by whatever had spooked him. Then one of Gotham’s least effective, yet most annoying, rogues walked in and declared he was robbing the place. 

The guy stood up and pulled what looked to Cass to be a highly scientific soup thermos and snuck up behind Condiment King as he was threatening the tired, underpaid and overworked cashiers. Cass couldn’t help but notice how silent he walked, he glided over the ground like a dancer as if gravity was only the merest of suggestions. He thumbed a switch on the side of his thermos and a brilliant blue beam poured out, catching Condiment King’s attention. 

Condiment King turned and almost jumped out of his skin when he saw a random civilian holding a soup container threateningly. The rogue and the stranger both looked down at the thermos in confusion. He opened his mouth as if to speak but instead some horrible combination of sparking electricity, cracking ice and distant screams came out. Somehow Cass could almost hear words past the noise and she was amazed that she could understand him. 

“Huh. I would have sworn you were one of mine.” 

Condiment King scowled past his confusion and readied his mustard cannon. 

“Danny, now's not the time for quips.” His sister said as she pulled him out of the way of the yellow fountain. “I’m not letting you back in the apartment if you smell like mustard.” 

Then she pulled a baton from the back of her belt that extended into a bo staff. Two quick strikes had Condiment King disarmed and on the ground, a third and he was dazed enough to not be a threat. 

“Well done, Jazz!” Danny had set his thermos down on the countertop so he could excitedly sign to his sister, then he looked around in confusion. “But then what triggered my ghost sense?” 

No sooner had he finished his signs, than a translucent being phased through the wall, a box in his hands. He looked to be dressed as a regular warehouse worker, though he glowed, floated and apparently could ignore solid walls. He immediately began flinging frozen hamburger patties from his box around. 

“I’m the Box Ghost! Ghostly master of all things rectangular and corrugated! Beware!” 

“Ah, there you are Boxy.” Danny said in his strange and crackling voice. Cass could see that Stephanie and Barbara couldn’t understand what he was saying as they both clamped their hands over their ears at the cacophony. 

Cass watched Danny with this Box Ghost. Clearly the two knew each other, she could practically see the rapport Danny had. She couldn’t keep herself from admiring Danny’s form. He flowed like water around the frozen patties. Even when her brothers were at their most agile and graceful, there was an element of elegance that was missing from their movements. Yet with Danny he skated around the projectiles. 

He was also aware of every person in the restaurant. One of the frozen burgers would have easily missed Danny, but hit one of the others, except he caught it and spun it right back at Box Ghost. That level of awareness was difficult for even seasoned heroes, and showed how often Danny had faced overwhelming odds, he knew exactly what would happen if he failed to be aware of someone in the line of fire. 

She appreciated how in control he was of his strength. She could see it in the bunching and tightening of his muscles that he wasn’t using anywhere near his full strength in this fight. It was a level of restraint she knew far too personally. It was the restraint of someone who had hurt others before and would never do so again. 

“Alright Boxy, you’re making a mess. Time to be done” Danny said, grabbing the thermos once more and again flipping the switch. This time when the beam of light caught the ghost it began to pull them in like a vortex. 

“Darn your cylindrical containment device!” The voice of the Box Ghost diminished until it completely disappeared along with the ghost and the beam of light. Danny spun the thermos in his hand for a moment before he clipped it onto his belt with a flourish. 

Cass glanced at the other Batgirls and, unsurprisingly, saw Steph almost salivating over the amazonian woman. Steph liked her women strong, tall and hyper competent. Meetings with the rest of the Justice League usually left her vibrating with barely controlled desire. She had almost needed a vacation the first time she met Big Barda. Steph was already half way up out of her seat to introduce herself. 

Barbara seemed similarly impressed, though as she was currently dating Dinah Lance, her interest was different. She had her phone out and was typing rapidly, no doubt hacking the security system of the Batburger to remove any evidence of their actions, as clear a sign of her approval as anything. 

With a smile Cass also stood and followed Steph. The two Batgirls would absolutely introduce themselves to these two, and hopefully that introduction would eventually lead to a date, or maybe more.

[faeriekit]

Ghosts of Those We Once Knew

a phic phight fill for @silverwing013

Warnings for: implied child abuse, accidental death, dead parents

**💚**

“Oh yeah?! And what are you going to do about it?!” Aunt Alicia snapped into the phone. 

There was a sound on the other end of the line, but Danny couldn’t make it out all the way. There was another solution, but it was…risky; it would require going into his aunt’s bedroom— a well known, forbidden domain— to pick up the only other phone hooked up to the landline. 

…There was no other time to find out what Aunt Alicia was putting off. It had to be worth the risk. Danny crept up the worn carpeting of the stairs, hoping that his sneakiness would hold up to Alicia’s discerning eyes and ears. 

Her bedroom was dark. Carpeted. …Pink. 

Whatever. Danny took a deep breath, lifted the phone off the hook, and tried not to breathe too loudly into the mouthpiece.

“You have no right to keep Daniel in your dismal, miserable, isolated hovel,” someone shouted on the other end. Danny had never heard this voice before. He sounded like someone around Dad’s age, maybe? Maybe a little…smoother, despite the blistering anger coming through the line. “You live with no human contact for nine months out of the year. You speak to no one. Do you— is Daniel even enrolled in a school? Did you get any sort of educational provisions for him whatsoever?” 

“What, so he can get cocky and blow himself up in the garage like his parents?” Alicia snapped. Danny had to clap a hand to his mouth to hide his gasp of dismay. 

“You know full well that punishing your sister’s son by restricting his access to an education and basic human companionship is not a solution to your grief for your sister. You are out of your mind.”

Aunt Alicia’s voice got low. Aunt Alicia’s voice got mean. She sounded like how she looked when Danny had fumbled the water pail from the well or stepped two steps too close to the rhubarb patch out back. “Vladmir Masters, you listen here,” Aunt Alicia muttered. “That boy is everything left of my sister in the whole damn world. He is not going anywhere. Do you understand? Not for you to fill his head with her stupid husband’s supernatural hoo-ha, and not for you to snatch up and teach himself how to kill other people the way those two killed each other. Danny stays here. If you ring me up one more time, I’m going to do more than just mail dog crap to the front step of your stupid castle in Wisconsin.”

The phone cut off. It would be an innocuous end to a phone call, except Danny can hear the clatter of plastic cracking on plastic in the downstairs kitchen.

There was a moment of silence.

“Daniel Jackson Fenton, you get your butt in here right now!”

Danny jolted, heart pounding. He—he went downstairs.

Aunt’s Alicia’s lips were pursed, her eyes tight. “What did I tell you about missing all the sticks in the yard? It looks like a wreck!”

Danny felt his breath stick in his throat.

“Well?”

“Yes, Aunt Alicia,” Danny mumbled. He looked down and away. He wasn’t caught out eavesdropping, but…was this any better?

“If those sticks aren’t piled up beside the woodshed for kindling in half an hour, you can kiss your dinner goodbye.”

Danny hadn’t had dinner in three nights. He was very lucky he didn’t need to eat as much as living kids. “…Yes, Aunt Alicia.”

“So?”

…Danny went outside to collect sticks. It took until nightfall to get all the refuse from yesterday’s storm off the ground.

Aunt Alicia ate canned corn and carrots and butchered rabbit with hot sauce for dinner. Danny ate nothing.

Danny went to bed thinking about somewhere else he could go. Mom and Dad were dead—smithereens in the blast that had killed him and brought him back to life simultaneously. Jazz was in the hospital. He had no grandparents. He had no other aunts or uncles other than Aunt Alicia.

…Who was Vladmir Masters?

*

It took two days for Danny to decide to run away.

Or. Well. Fly.

He’d figured that if he wanted to find out who Vladmir Masters was, he’d need an internet connection. His cell had been on the Fenton Fone Plan™ and had been disconnected from the Fenton Family Patented Ghost-free Satellite™ for almost three months now. But, you know…what was a public library for, if not getting information?

The two-day waiting period was mostly just Danny getting his stuff together, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind, finding anything worth stealing…

…There was a picture of Mom with her big hair at graduation, a black robe thrown over her Hazmat suit. Her hair had been so big. Lots of people were beside her, including Dad, and someone with a matching hair stripe. They looked happy.

It didn’t matter that it had been Aunt Alicia’s photo. The picture had gone into his backpack next to Bearbert Einstein and a filched pocket knife.

Mom was Aunt Alicia’s sister, but Madeline Fenton had been his mom.

…Was still his mom.

Would…would always be his mom.

Danny wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t going to cry. Still, the flying and everything was still new to him. It took almost ten minutes to get himself off the ground without floating off willy nilly.

It took another half an hour to remember how to go through walls.

By the time Danny fell (as in actually, literally, leaned up against the wall and then realized he’d not made contact the way he’d expected to) through the house wall, it was almost eight at night. Aunt Alicia was still listening to Prairie Home Companion downstairs on the radio.

Whatever. He was out of there. He was sure he looked crazy—his hair was white, which was almost impossible to hide—but all he had to do was get out of there fast enough that no one connected one teenage runaway with a backpack to Danny Fenton.

It was fine.

It was all going to be fine.

…And if there wasn’t someone who’d help him. Well. Being homeless didn’t sound…so bad…?

…Or maybe he’d just squat in the burnt out ruins of Fentonworks. That sounded fine too.

*

Morning broke. Danny ended up in a tiny town somewhere in Mississippi.

A nice guy at the coffee shop gave him a cup of water and told him where the local library was. A librarian plugged her login details for him on a public computer, and Danny was able to look up one “Vladmir Masters”…

…CEO and owner of DALVco, millionaire, and Green Bay Packers megafan.

Holy crap.

Like… There were hospital wings with his name on them. Charities operating out of his company. Every picture of the man was perfectly taken in perfect lighting with perfect suits and precise smirks and bright-white magazine article paper.

Danny went back up to the librarian. “Do you have any articles on…uh…Vlad Masters?”

The librarian smiled warmly. “Ah, school project?”

“Sure,” Danny lied, milk on his tongue.

Vlad Masters was a self-made millionaire. He lived in a castle in Wisconsin that used to be owned by a dairy empire kingpin. He went to—

Danny read the line again

—He went to the same college as Mom and Dad. The year looked right, too. They might have even graduated in the exact same year. If only Danny could still check Dad’s college ring in the bottom of their junk drawer.

Wisconsin. Vlad Masters lived in Wisconsin.

…Danny was really lucky he was never all that hungry anymore.

Danny got another cup of water at the coffee shop, washed his face in the bathroom, and got ready to fly another night.

He was no sextant, but he could probably figure out how to get to Wisconsin after a couple of hours of flying, and a little time to gauge the sky.

It would be easy.

…Danny’s white-topped, pale face stared back at him from the restroom mirror.

It had to be. It would have to be easy.

*

So, a cheese castle looked a lot like a regular castle.

Danny squinted up at the stonework. Nah, that looked like…a castle. That being said, it looked more specifically like the castle he was looking for—the one that had been featured in Vlad Masters’s house tour in Architecture Daily magazine two years ago.  

Same…roof bits. Same big door. Danny swallowed. Same…tower? Were there better words for these? There were definitely better words for all the tricky stone bits in the castle.

Whatever. Danny was praying that the man was actually home today, as opposed to flying across the country on some kind of business trip. Rich people did business trips, right?

Danny floated up to the front door. There was no doorbell.

…Danny bit his lip. Okay. So there was no doorbell. There was a very large, brass door knocker. It looked kind of like a big monster face, with a ring held in its teeth.

The knocker was just high enough off the ground that Danny had to float to get there. Lifting it was a struggle.

When it knocked, the whole door buzzed with sound.

Danny waited.

…He waited.

And…Danny waited.

No one came.

Danny picked at the skin of his lip. What if he just…went in?

Like. It was a big house. Maybe Vlad Masters just hadn’t heard him at all? Maybe he was just…in the basement or something…?

Danny paced midair. On one hand. He’d come all this way. He had to follow through. He had to see if there was…something. Anything. Anything at all—anything that could possibly connect Masters to his family.

Any connection that wasn’t Aunt Alicia would be worth breaking and entering.

On the other hand. Home invasion was and would remain illegal.

Danny grimaced.

He…stuck his head through the door. 

There was a hallway on the other side. A little end table. A guest book. 

…Okay. Danny slipped through the door. He was breaking and entering now— or at least…entering. 

Inside was dark. Gloomy. Comfortable, sure— lots of soft furnishings, curtains, couches, pillow, lounging things— but very…opaque in atmosphere. 

He was glowing, he noticed. That probably was pretty bad on the “trying not to get caught” scale. 

There was no one upstairs. Danny drifted through room after empty room and up into floor after empty floor. There was a kitchen, and the food therein were largely preserved items. There was nothing in the fridge. 

Danny’s stomach cramped. There was no one here. 

…Maybe he should look downstairs? 

The castle got colder the further down he went. The windows that at least allowed the minimal light that escaped through the tree cover in the castle vanished. The only light left was Danny. 

Danny floated down deeper. 

There were doors made of metal in a long, stone hallway. Each had different numbers on them. Danny followed the rows of doors.

There were wires on the floor. They were organized by color and bound by little ties, until they weren’t, and Danny eventually ran out of tangled webs of red and blue plastic to follow. 

They ended at a closed door. 

Danny hesitated. He poked his head through. 

On the other side was a ghost. 

Danny jerked back. He’d— he clapped his hand over his mouth. That was—! And sure, Danny was something like that now, but he’d never seen—!

He should leave. Danny should leave. 

Danny barely made it three doors down. 

Going somewhere? something asked him. Danny shivered. 

The ghost appeared on his left in ethereal white, black hair pulled behind him in some sort of half-halo. Unlike Danny, who was in something like half-hazmat, half-hoodie, the ghost wore a long, glowing labcoat, appropriate PPE beneath. 

Danny’s breath fogged up in his mouth. He flinched. “Sorr—” he tried. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to be here.”

The ghost looked at him with bright red eyes. Danny floated a few steps back. Spying, are you?

Danny shook his head. “No!! No, I just— I was looking for— I wasn’t spying! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you li— died here! I’ll leave!” 

The ghost’s head tilted. For a second, Danny thought that he was going to throw a punch. And then—

You’re already here, the ghost pointed out, and opened a door. Beyond it was…something similar to a doctor’s office. An examination table with the paper on it. One of those blood pressure cuffs, attached to a printer for the readout. A sink. Sundry tongue depressors. You may as well consent to be helped. 

“...Helped with what?” Danny asked nervously, fingers flexing. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

The ghost hummed— not in the way voices hummed, but in the way high voltage sang in distant powerlines. You are newly formed, aren’t you? Most can tell a ghost’s nature from its presence alone.

Danny looked away. “Um. You know. You might be the first ghost I’ve ever met.” 

The ghost’s feet almost touched the ground. It stared down at him. It was taller than he was, and when it stared, it made Danny want to run away. 

…Truly, the ghost asked(?), and it took Danny a second to realize it was a question. 

“Maybe I died a little recently…” Danny tried, trailing off into a mumble. Was there a right answer to this? 

…I see. That would make this check-up more urgent, then. Might I encourage you to come this way? 

Danny followed him into the room. 

It felt… It looked and felt exactly like any other doctor’s appointment, excepting that the doctor involved in the process had blue skin and fangs and a hairstyle that defied gravity. The ghost still wore gloves and didn’t poke him or prod him too hard, though, so that was a bonus.

Danny got his pulse taken. (None.) Danny got his lungs checked. (Not breathing.) Danny got his resonance? looked at? Whatever that was? It was a big scanny thing that looked like an X ray and took pictures of his chest. 

The readings were real pretty, whatever they were; the whole film print was taken up with splotches of white and clear blue. It kind of shimmered when Danny tilted his head. 

You’re quite powerful for a newly formed ghost, the ghost offered, overlooking papers Danny couldn’t quite see on his clipboard. It flipped through once. Twice. You’re clearly not attached to your place of death, so that’s not why… Are you aware of any compulsions to follow an Obsession yet…?

A ghostly obsession? Danny knew what that was— it was one of his parents’ theories on why ghosts persisted after death! Was it was true? 

“Um,” Danny said, unsure. He hadn’t…had he? “Not that I know of?”

The ghost paused. It clicked its pen. It marked something down on Danny’s chart. Interesting.

Ominous. 

May I quickly test something? the ghost asked, looking up at Danny. It would only take a moment. If it does not work, there will be no other side effects other than mild discomfort and an activated flight response. 

Danny shifted. The paper crackled underneath him. “...Does it hurt?” 

No.

The ghost added nothing more. 

Danny’s…head jerked up and down. It was fine. It would be fine. 

The ghost’s hand circled his wrist. Its touch burned like fire. 

And then light, like how Danny burned away one form for another—

—Danny was left on the table, no longer weightless, no longer breathless. He was flesh. He was human again.

Vlad Masters stared back at him. 

…Huh. 

Mr. Masters— Vlad?— licked dry lips, staring at Danny, whose wrist he still held. Danny…didn’t know if he could move. Danny didn’t know if he knew how to move. 

“...Daniel?” Mr. Masters’s voice cracked. His eyes moved up and down Danny’s body, from his raggedy hair to his dirt-stained clothes to his beat-up shoes. “Daniel Fenton?”

Danny winced. “It’s just Danny,” he offered hoarsely. His throat bobbed. “You…know me?” 

Mr. Masters moved his grip to Danny’s hand, apparently moved to tears. Without the red in his eyes, he just looked…human enough. “Daniel— Danny, how did you— Are you dead? What happened?” 

Danny felt the weight of everything push down on him again, as if it had ever let up on him since the portal incident. Mom and Dad’s funerals. Jazz in the emergency room. Being resuscitated by the EMTs. Getting shipped out to Aunt Alicia’s house without warning. 

“House blew up.”

That was succinct enough, right?

The man’s face turned devastated. “I heard— I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry, Danny.”

…It was more concern than anyone had shown in a long time. His eyes were wet before he knew it. When he wiped his face with his sleeve, the dampness was enough to leave little streaks of mud on his face— and, ugh, he felt filthy. 

“It’s okay,” Danny lied, because it wasn’t. He pressed his sleeve to his eyes. “It’s…you know my parents?”

Mr. Masters took a deep, surprised breath. “Yes. We…weren’t in contact after we graduated from school together, but Jack always… He asked me by email to be your godfather, right before you were born. I said yes, but I have no idea if he ever filed the paperwork.” 

Oh. 

…Oh. 

There were clearly more secrets here. Mr. Masters was a ghost, and so was Danny. He lived in a giant castle that was clearly haunted, which was made obvious by the owner. He was Danny’s godfather, and Danny had never once met him. 

And he wasn’t Aunt Alicia. 

Danny sucked the spit off of his teeth with his tongue. “Can I stay here?” 

Mr. Masters made a wounded, desperate expression. “I would rather you did.” 

“Can you teach me how to be a ghost?”

The man persevered through what were clearly heavy feelings. “...If I must.” 

“Can I have dinner?” was Danny’s final question. “Like. On the regular?” 

There was a second where Mr. Masters’s eyes went red. The castle suddenly felt taut with anticipation. Fury crawled on Danny’s skin. He could feel the pressure digging in search of some way to burrow into his flesh.

And then it was gone. 

“Of course you can. You are a growing boy.”

Danny smiled shyly, barely showing his teeth. When he smiled for real in the mirror, he had fangs. It was better not to. “Cool.”

Mr. Masters nodded. And when Danny looked down at the floor, he changed his grip so that Danny could hold his hand and hop down like normal. 

“It will be alright,” Mr. Masters promised quietly. It seemed to be just as much for him as it was for Danny. “Or…I’ll take care of it. Whatever happens. You’re not alone, Danny.” 

Danny had been alone for almost half a year. It had felt like forever. “Thanks.” He sniffed. 

They walked upstairs from the basement laboratory together, in a way Mom and Dad never would again. 

[macfrog]

hi queenie, love of my life 😌 i’d like to ask the following for 🩵: d’you think there was ever a moment where joel really thought holy shit. she drives me insane… i gotta fuck her. ???

(rly hoping there was 😌)

ily, sister! thanks for the gif. feeling really. normal. about him. right now. oh, yeah. he had his moments. let's get into it.

compensation 1.1k words | duckie's baby shower 🩵 warnings: literally just joel masturbating to the thought of his neighbor. good shit.

she can’t have been older than twenty-five, when she moved in.

hell, she’s not even thirty yet, as it is. she’s too fucking –

you’re too fucking young for him, and that’s the end of that.

at least – that’s what joel’s telling himself, trapped on your front porch. watching you relive the story of the ups driver who almost wouldn't let you sign for his package.

doing his best to keep his eyes on yours, and not the thin tank top you’re wearing.

“…she’s like, how do i know you’re gonna get this to him? i’m like, uh, what the fuck do i want with my boring ass neighbor’s mail? no offense, joel. but c’mon. i’m literally signing for it. anyways.”

you turn, bending down for the box by the stairs, and joel drags his eyes upwards.

his hand shakes at his side. jaw ticks, watching you turn back, the package leaning against your front. your breasts – oh, jesus.

he swallows. his throat feels like carpet burn.

“’s heavy,” you mutter, edging towards him. “rock collecting?”

“mind your business,” joel clips, slipping his hands around the box. the back of his wrists brush against the swell of your breasts, and he stares so intensely at his own address on the label that he hopes it’s burned forever into his vision.

you huff as the weight passes into his hands. a little sigh.

something twitches beneath his belt buckle.

joel sits the box on his hip. “well, thanks for this. and for calling me boring.”

you cross your arms. it only pushes your tits up more. “stay humble, old man.”

he should walk away. right now. he should take his package, and his pride, and the fucking rock in his jeans – and head on home.

but then you slump against the doorpost, one ankle crossing over the other, and say, “s’posed to get pretty hot this summer.”

“’s already pretty hot.”

“hotter, jackass. they’re sayin’ record temperatures.”

“they say that every year.”

you poke at the inside of your cheek with your tongue. the way you always do, when you’re trying to annoy him.

and it’s working.

“actually, uh –” joel shifts between feet, “– i was gonna ask you a favor.”

“mhm?”

his gaze trickles down your figure. each curve and swell of supple skin. the shorts he’s getting a little too used to seeing you in, too used to looking for. your bare legs, and the glow of sun on them.

when he looks back up, you’re smirking at him.

christ, he wants to wipe that smirk clean off your face. wants to twist it into something darker, something…something louder, and filthier, and –

“joel. hellooo?”

you wave your hand in front of his face, and he snaps back.

“huh? oh, shit. sorry – i, uh…” a flush rises like an inferno up his neck. he shakes his head, fighting it off. “yeah. a favor.”

“you good? don’t pass out on my porch,” you warn. “wait until you’re back on your own land to do that.”

he breathes a laugh – panting, almost. “i’m good. i just – i need someone to water my, uh – my plants. i’m outta town next week, visitin’ my brother. if you wouldn’t mind…”

he feels like a fucking moron when he finally meets your eye again.

you blink back at him, frowning. head tipped, looking him up and down. “i don’t mind,” you say, something cautious in your voice, “but i expect generous compensation for my time.”

“compensation,” joel agrees, nodding. he’d do anything to be off this goddamn porch right now. “how about i’ll owe you one?”

“works for me.”

“alright. thank you, again,” he holds the package up, “and, uh – i’ll see ya.”

he’s gone before he hears your response.

too young. she’s too young. you’re so young. goddamn it.

you drive him fucking insane. you and your little shorts, the simper on your face. he swears he could see through the white of your top, two perfect circles where –

oh, fuck.

he spills into his bathroom, a heavy hand slamming down on the valve. the water roars from the showerhead, louder than the blood in his ears.

joel hauls his tee over his shoulders, the fabric peeling from his muscles and crumpling in a damp pile on the floor. he shucks the rest of his clothes off, kicking them to the side, and steps straight into the cubicle.

he looks down, and – fucking hell.

his cock sways between his legs, all rosy and already dripping. he can feel his pulse hammering at his tip; hisses when the stream sprays over it.

his hand lifts, curving around air.

shit, he just wants to touch himself. wants to relieve the ache between his hips. he has to.

he balls his fists against the tiled wall. his head drops low between his shoulders. the water pours down over him, pastes his dark hair in soaking flicks around his face. he can taste the salt of sweat and sun as it slips from his skin.

once. if he only did it once, would it matter? he’s hard now, anyways. there’s a quick fix.

you just – you caught him off-guard. he only went over there to pick up a package. he didn’t fucking know you’d be – oh, christ – he didn’t know you’d be in that shirt. no bra, no nothing beneath it.

he can still feel the plush of your tits on his knuckles. the way they moved as you leant against the doorframe. he can still see the summery shine on your skin.

he thinks about slipping his hands under the hem of your tank. up, up, up, across your smooth skin until he’s cupping them. squeezing them; circling his thumbs over the hardening peaks.

the short breaths from your lips, your smirk melted into a delicate o-shape. voiceless, nothing but whimpering and gasping when his teeth take your nipple.

before he even realizes it – he’s stroking his cock.

and quickly.

he groans, lips turning to his bicep. he bites down on the skin, hard.

he’d slip your shorts down your hips; see whatever slutty little panties you wear. he’d pull your thighs over his shoulders, unfold your sweet cunt and –

“shit,” joel pants, hips stuttering. his fingers splay out on the slippery tile.

you’re so infuriating. loudmouthed and fucking bratty. and he could shut you up, he knows he could. he’d sit you on his cock, wrapped perfectly around him, and fuck you dumb. fuck you until you’re nothing but a sobbing, soaking mess.

fuck you with that scrap of a tank top on. tits bouncing beneath it, the fabric riding higher and higher until they’re exposed.

what a good fuckin’ girl, taking all of him. letting him split you open, letting him fuck you raw. so big he’ll leave an ache deep inside you; so hard that he makes you come three times over before he’s even close.

but – fuck, he’s close, right now.

“c’mon, baby,” he mutters into his skin. teeth gritted; fist so tight the skin threatens to split across his knuckles. “make me come, c’mon.”

it’d dribble from your cunt, and he’d push it straight back in. make damn sure you keep it all in there, make damn sure you’re walking around all full of him. the seam of your thighs slick, semen seeping into your panties.

“goddamn,” he groans, and with a throb, coats the shower wall.

his cock twitches, pulses until he’s empty. the ache begins to thaw.

he shuts the shower off, still massaging his softening dick as he steps back out. he lifts a towel and drags it across his tingling body.

and he swears, when he notices the sun dipping below your roof –

it will never happen again.

[peachhcs]

because will surprised sam i think sam should tell will that her parents said she couldn’t go to Sweden but she actually is going with like ruts girlfriend and surprises him

a surprise in sweden

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy surprises will in sweden for the world juniors!

1.4k words

warnings: like the smallest tiniest illusion to sex, two kisses, mostly fluff though

this was so cutie to write. woo i'm posting again to make up for my lack of posts. i know kayleigh didn't actually go to world juniors, but let's pretend she did for this haha. pls keep requesting i enjoy writing these :)

au masterlist

“did you hear? did you hear?” will's excitement made samy smile from her end of the phone. the girl giggled while nodding her head even though her boyfriend couldn’t see. 

“i did hear. i’m so excited for you. sweden sounds awesome,” the u.s. team picks for world juniors came out only minutes ago and in two seconds, the blonde eagerly called his girlfriend to tell her the happy news. 

“god, i can’t believe i get to play for my country for what might be the last time. leno, perreault, fort, minnetian, and cut are all coming along to,” will was most definitely rambling, but samy didn’t care. she loved hearing him so excited about something to the point where he couldn’t stop talking about it. 

“you guys are gonna dominate. rut, sean, gav, and nazar got picked too. i'm excited for you guys to play on the same team together,” the brunette chuckled a little. It was almost ironic how her two worlds of hockey were colliding on the same team in a few weeks. 

“oh god, mcgroarty’s gonna pick me apart isn’t he?” will groaned, but samy giggled again.

“he won’t, trust me. i’ll make sure they lay off you and won’t ask embarrassing questions.” 

the umich guys knew all about will and were definitely eager to meet the guy that stole their little sister’s heart. they only had ethan and mark’s words to go off and you could guess the things they said only playfully poked fun at the blonde, so will was determined to prove himself so the other guys could properly get to know him. 

“i’m sorry i won��t be in the states for break. i know how excited we were to finally see each other for more than two days,” will changed the subject, his tone laced with a hint of disappointment. 

samy smiled, “it’s okay. this is a big deal for you and i’m so proud of you. i’ll just watch you from the comfort of my living room.” 

her words had a grin spreading across the boy’s lips along with a small chuckle. “you’re sure you can’t convince your parents to let you come with me?” it was worth a shot to ask even though will knew how much samy loved spending the holidays with her family. he didn’t even wanna ask if she could come along knowing how much the holidays meant to her. 

“i doubt it. i know they trust me, but an entire like three weeks in a different country with my boyfriend..i don’t know if they’d be so keen on that idea,” the girl laughed, a slight blush coating her cheeks. 

a similar pink color spread across will’s face as well, “okay, just thought i’d ask. i’ll miss you. i’ll send your gift in the mail so you’ll hopefully have it.” 

“i’ll see if i can get yours to boston before you leave. i’m still waiting on something in the mail.” 

“i hope you didn’t go overboard. we said not to,” will said despite the smile on his lips. 

“even if i did, it’s the first christmas that we’re together and not getting each other gag gifts,” samy stated. 

“when have i ever gotten you a gag gift? i think my gifts have been very thoughtful no matter what our relationship is,” the boy quickly defended himself. 

“well whatever. i think you’ll really like my gift,” samy chuckled. 

“i think you’ll like mine too,” will eyed the unwrapped gifts sitting on his desk and he couldn’t help but smile thinking about samy opening them in a few weeks. 

the two stayed on the phone for the rest of the night just mindlessly talking and getting to hear one another’s voices. there was one thing will didn’t know though and that was samy texting with kayleigh as they bought plane tickets for sweden—their trip already thoroughly planned out because the two predicted very early on that their boyfriends would make the US team, they just needed the confirmation before they bought their tickets. they couldn’t be more excited to fly out and surprise everyone with the hope that ryan and gabe knew how to keep their mouths shut. 

—

will sat in his hotel room making an attempt to get some of his school work done, but the tv playing as background noise was taking more of his attention than he thought it would. his eyes were glued to the show, computer open because if it was open, then at least it seemed like he was being productive. 

samy followed gabe and ryan to the 5th floor, unbeknownst to will. her and kayleigh landed about an hour ago and the girl was trying to shush the boys before the surprise was ruined. Her and ryan shoved themselves against the wall while gabe knocked on his friend’s room—their surprise plan setting into action. 

will lifted his head when he heard the knock. he walked towards the door, eyes still flicking back to the tv as he pulled the wooden frame open. “what?” the boy asked gabe on the other side. 

“can you come to my room real quick? I think i broke something,” the dark-haired boy muttered. 

will raised his eyebrow, “what do you mean you think you broke something?”

“like, i was trying to open up the cabinet under the tv and the handle like snapped off in my hand.” 

ryan and samy struggled keeping their laughter from slipping out as they stood a few feet away from will’s door. the blonde crinkled his nose, “dude, i’m not getting involved if you broke something. you’re gonna have to pay for that shit.” 

“can you just please come look? i don’t know if it’s actually broken,” gabe tried. 

“how do you not know if something is broken? it’s either broken or not broken,” will argued a bit, not knowing gabe was only trying to get him into the hallway where he’d see samy. 

“please just come look? for like two seconds.” 

a sigh escaped the blonde’s lips along with a shake of his head thinking how stupid his friend was. he shuffled into the hallway ready to head down to gabe’s room when samy suddenly popped out from behind ryan, “surprise!!” 

will jumped back, a small screech falling from his mouth. it took him all of ten seconds to take in his girlfriend standing two feet away from him, ryan with his camera out, and gabe snickering to himself to realize what was happening. when it did finally click samy was swept into the boy’s arms. 

“what are you doing here? i-i thought you weren’t coming?” will could hardly form any coherent thoughts. it felt like he was dreaming or something. 

“i was coming all along. i said i wasn’t because i wanted to surprise you,” samy explained, giggling into the blonde’s shoulder. 

“what about your parents? Your brothers..” 

“they were cool with it. kayleigh and i have been planning this for like weeks,” the brunette pulled back so she could properly see his face. she brushed his little curls away, a blush spreading across his cheeks at her gentleness. 

his eyes slid towards gabe and ryan who nodded. “we knew all along,” gabe snickered. 

"i’m surprised you two could keep a secret as big as this,” will teased them knowing how bad they both were at keeping things from other people. 

“oh shut up. we got your girl here so now you can stop moping around,” ryan rolled his eyes which earned the middle finger from will. 

another giggle escaped samy’s lips as she squeezed her boyfriend’s waist, putting his attention back on her. “It’s good to see you,” she hummed. 

“you too. I’m glad we get to spend a few weeks together,” not caring that ryan and gabe were still watching, the hockey player connected their lips into a sweet kiss. 

“yooo, save that for the room. Iim out of here. don’t be too loud,” gabe mumbled before retreating back into his own room. 

samy and will shared a laugh. ryan quickly escaped as well, promising he’d send the surprise video. that left the couple standing in the hallway together, loving smiles on each of their lips. 

“you’re sure you’re okay with not spending the holidays with your family?” will wondered because he didn’t want to be pulling her away. 

the girl cupped his face, “i’m sure. mom and dad were cool with it and my brothers are hardly home anymore anyways. plus, how could i miss something like this?” 

her words convinced the boy for now. he planted one last kiss on her lips before pulling her inside his hotel room—a very long night ahead of them.

[anothermansjeans]

Hey i hope you get your mojo back! As my personal indulagance which hopefully also help you may i please requeat 6 and 8 from the first random dialoge list with spencer read and an NONbau reader, exstra love if its an neighrbour reader!

Love and kisses ❤️❤️❤️

thank youuuuuu!!!! i also want to apologize-- you didn't specify gn or fem! reader and i was just about done when i realized i did fem!reader, so lmk and i will happily rewrite if needed 🫶

i also don't know how i feel about this but i tried lmao

also only a little proofread...

prompts:

"Please tell me this is the part where my life doesn’t have to completely fall apart."

"This is the one time I’m wishing they’re calling about my car’s extended warranty."

cw: mention of family member dying, the word vomit being used

wc: 920

++

Spencer was very concerned. His neighbor– his very attractive, down to Earth, and kind neighbor– was frantic, eyes sunken, and just wasn't as… present as she usually is. Spencer was concerned.

His concern also may have been a bit biased because of the small crush he harbored for her… but he didn't want to think about that too hard.

He hadn't been around much recently, getting called into the BAU more often than not, but when time did allow him to linger around his building, he would see the distress on her from a mile away. The other day, right before a case, he was locking up his apartment when she was just getting home. It was quiet this time of day, but that was cut short when her phone started to ring.

“This is the one time I’m wishing they're calling about my car’s extended warranty.”

Her disgruntled mumble was pretty soft, and if Spencer wasn't right across the hall from her he wouldn't have heard it. He wanted to see if she was okay, but she answered her phone and he was being asked for his ETA at the BAU.

When that case was finally over, and he was walking back to his place, he suddenly stopped and turned towards her door. There was a package in his apartment that was placed with his mail in the mailroom, and only really looked at it last week; right before he left for a case. He would've given it to her then if he wasn't already late at the time, and he didn't feel comfortable leaving it in front of her door so this was truly the next best thing.

His plan was the following: knock on your door, tell you he has your package in his apartment, grab said package, and then leave with dignity. There was no way he could screw this up.

His knock was soft, but the way she swung open the door was a sharp contrast to that. “Please tell me this is the part where my life doesn't have to completely fall apart oh– you're not the delivery guy.”

Your dejected look caused a small ache in his chest. “No, but the delivery people tend to not come to our doors, they're supposed to stay in the mail room– you already knew that.” He was getting flustered. This was not a part of the plan. “Are you okay?” He couldn't help himself. After seeing the way you were last week, and how that hasn't changed one bit since he was gone… he really wanted to make sure all was well.

She barely waited a moment before answering. “No,” the crack in her voice was evident. “My great aunt passed and she was a horrible person, but the funeral directors were asking me which address to send the urn to and my sister stepped in making sure I didn't put mine down because I’m ‘most likely to lose aunt Pearl’s ashes’ and the rest of my family overheard and started running with the joke. With me being me I wanted to prove them wrong so I did give them my address and I still don't have the urn but they're saying it was delivered and oh my, God, I’m dumping all of this on you.” Her eyes were welled up with tears, and with how wide her eyes became he was surprised the tears hadn't started to fall. “I’m just going to… let you go on with your day. I’m so sorry, Spencer, maybe we can talk to–” she started to close the door, blocking her face that held a worrisome look.

“I have it!” It’s as if he suddenly remembered why he went over there in the first place “I’m uh, I'm assuming I have it…?”

“You do?” Her door was now wide open again, and a spark of hope was shown in her eyes.

“Yeah, that's why I came over here. I just got back from work and wanted to let you know before I grabbed it. They put it with my stuff and I didn't check it until a couple of days ago and then I had a case and–”

“Spencer?” She cut off his worried rambling.

“Yes?”

“Could you grab it please?”

“Oh! Yeah!” He was like a baby giraffe walking for the first time. His legs were not keeping up with his body as he quickly walked over to his place, unlocked his door, and made way for the box over in the corner by his bookcase. “Again, I’m sorry. I’ve been at work more than not recently and I should've brought it over as soon as I knew it was yours but–”

“Oh, I could kiss you right now!” She grabbed the box so fast it could be considered snatching, but Spencer didn't mind.

“Maybe after I take you on a date?” What the hell was that? She was excited, he was flustered, and for him, word vomit was real. “I’m sorry, I have no idea why I–”

“Spencer…” She stopped his worried ramble once again, and Spencer assumed he died and went to Heaven because there was no way the next words out of her mouth were real. “Ask me tomorrow, when I’m not all flustered. I’ll definitely say yes.”

Yeah, he definitely died and went to Heaven, because the next day, he saw her walking back from the grocery store, walked up to her, stuttered through asking her out for real, and she said yes. Just as promised.

[pablitogavii]

Could you write one Gavi fic where he's talking to her through social media, just as friends, but he starts to develop feelings for her, his agent finds out and gets really worried about his career if he gets in a relationship, so he "makes" Gavi's mind to get away from the reader (she has abandonment and rejection issues) without a proper explanation, he excuses saying that the reader wants his money and whatever. But some months after the reader moves to Seville and gets really close to Aurora (she knows Aurora is Gavi's sister but Aurora doesn't know her), and one day Aurora takes her to a barca match, and Gavi tries to make up to her?

I guess I'm back y'all lol! I like this idea very much!

y.n.bebe

New York, USA

I think I like this little life...happy birthday to me hehe

liked by pablogavi and others

coments:

brimccormix: happy birthday bebsss

y.n.bebe: thank you gorgeous girl💗

stacymiggs: princesaaa

y.n.bebe: nooo youuu!🥺

brianfereda: happy birthday!

y.n.bebe: thank youu!

pablogavi: pretty girl

y.n.bebe: 😳

When you saw that THE Pablo Gavi called you "pretty girl" for the whole world to see, you couldn't stop staring at that comment for the next two weeks.

Your friends went crazy calling you lucky, and pushing you to send him a message but you were obviously too shy to do that. Besides, who knows how many "pretty girls" he's talking to on the internet.

Meanwhile, Gavi spent all of his free time and training brakes going through your posts and smiling like an idiot at your cute face on his phone screen.

When you first popped up on his screen, he just had to reach out and pray you don't find it cocky on his part. You were just so pretty...

"Sempre con esa nena, cabrón! Dale! Enviale un mensaje!"Pedri hit Gavi's head making him groan and finally get the balls to slide into your DMs. He said a simple "hey pretty girl" before leaving his phone in the locker room to join his teammates.

pablogavi: hey, pretty girl

y.n.bebe: hey😊

And ever since that night, you've started texting, face timing and chatting non stop. You haven't told anyone about it, not wanting to make a drama over something so new and also not wanting him to think fame is what you're after because it's not.

"I'm so tired, nena" Pablo groaned while laying in bed and face timing you as you did your math homework diligently.

"Then go to bed, tonto!" you giggle and he just stayed quiet staring at your face until you looked back at the phone screen and blushed at how intense his gaze was.

"Me gusta cuando hablas Español conmigo, bebé" he smirked making you blush bright red and roll your eyes pretending to be annoyed.

"When do you have training in the morning?" you ask while he yawns.

"Five am" he answers and you open your eyes wide really looking up to him being so diligent about his career.

"Then you really should get some sleep, and we can talk tomorrow again hm?" you ask not really wanting to end the call but also wanting him to get his rest. He always loved how selfless you are and how much you took care of him. It really warmed his hearts.

"I hate it that you're so far! I swear I'm gonna travel to New York and kidnap you and bring you back to Barcelona with me ... and never let you go ..." he said sleepily and you felt your heart jumping thinking about the possibility.

"Hm and if you get bored of me?" you smile and he shakes his head still staring intently at you in the eyes.

"Impossible, my pretty girl..." he said and you smile remembering the very first time you read those words on the screen.

Pablo Gavi was a man of his words, and since that conversation he promised himself that he will surprise you with a travel to Barcelona really soon. He planed everything and mailed you a ticket during his two week vacation.

He still remembers the nerves while standing at the airport waiting at your gate to see your pretty face finally in person. The moment you walked out he recognized you...he couldn't forget the pretty face he stared at through the screen for past four months just now it was real.

"Hi, pretty girl..." he said again and you jumped into his eyes smiling wide and holding onto him tightly. You couldn't believe this was real yet. It just felt like a dream.

"Ready to explore Barcelona conmigo huh?" he said and you smiled and taking his hand nodding and walking to him car with your baggage.

Days passed so quickly and everything was PERFECT. Ice cream dates, walks on the beach, coffee shops and all the infamous tourist attractions...you were falling in love with this city...and you were also falling in love with this boy.

Day before your flight home, Pablo took you to a football game for the Juvenil and you were excited to watch it with him knowing it was his passion.

"So what do you think?" you show him your Barça jersey and he so badly wanted to ask you to wear one with his name on the back but how could he? He still didn't have the balls to ask you to be his official girlfriend!

y.n.bebe

Barcelona, Spain

it's so pretty here 🥺😊

liked by pablogavi, pedri, joaofelix and others

comments:

pablogavi: pretty girl in barcelona 😍

y.n.bebe: hehe😊

brimccormix: girl!!?? spill the TEA!

y.n.bebe: what tea???

lucasmith: looks like someone stole my crush!

y.n.bebe: 😂

"Next time I come, I want to watch you play..." you said while the two of you sat sadly on the airport waiting for your boarding.

"Y/n..." he said looking down as you looked up

"Hm?" you say feeling your heart beating fast from how close your lips were to each other.

"Don't go..."he said and you swore your heart broke when you saw his pleading eyes. Neither of you wanted this distance...it was so unfair but there was nothing you could do about it now.

"Pablo we're friends now and you can visit me in New York..." you said but before you could finish his lips were smashed onto yours to shut you up and you closed your eyes enjoying the sweet sensation of his cold minty lips on your.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend, pretty girl?" he said and in that moment all your past insecurities and abandonment issues returned yelling inside your head. What if you get attached and he disappears like other did? You were so scared but looking at him it was impossible not to agree!

"Yes! I do Pablo..." you say and he kissed you again until they called for your flight to start boarding in five minutes.

[scoops-aboy86]

If You Were Serious (Secret Admirer pt 7)

Okay, so there will be more than seven chapters. For now, please enjoy Steve on painkillers and creative mix tape shenanigans.

(The crossed out thing after the first "Dear" is the first line of an E.)

wc: 3226 / rated: T / set end of/after season 3 / also on ao3

Dear I

Dear Secret Amdirer,

Sorry, painkillers kicking in. I got pretty banged up in the mall, in the fire. Well, less the fire and more getting hit by stuff. Mall fell down. I have ribs and eye and nose, and concussion this time so I had to stay over at Robin’s because someone had to keep an eye on me sleeping and my parents are still out of town. Dustin said I won at upper body injury bingo but I didn’t even know I was playing, that sounds like really a shitty game. 

Anyway, I haven’t been home so I don’t know if you tried to call. If you did, don’t worry!!! I’m not mad. I don’t not like you anymore just because you’re you. And this isn’t the durg drugs talking because I read your letter first before they kicked in, but I have to write this ASAP so it can get to you faster. 

You could’ve called back that night but if you needed some time to breathe I get it, it’s cool. And I kinda had a feeling after that you might be a guy? Like, shit, man, they’d eat you alive in this town. Not me, I learned my lesson after Jonathan wrecked my face after I called him and his family some bad things. I deserved that. Kinda funny how the next year he stole my girlfriend and now I like you. If you could still be interested in somebody who used to be like that. 

I know I like you because when you hung up I was really worried, you sounded like you were breathing really fast, maybe a panic attack? I have those after nightmares now. Robin too. (Don’t worry, we bonded and she’s like my sister now, she says we’re playdoh soulmates

“Oh my god, I knew explaining who Plato was was a bad idea. It’s platonic, Steve, not Play-Doh.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder! … How do you spell that?”

“P-L-A-T-O-N-I-C.”

“Thanks Robbie.”

she says we’re playdoh soulmates platonic soulmates.) I was worried about you and thought maybe you might be a guy but, that wasn’t as important as wanting you to be okay, you know? You still wrote me all those nice letters. You’ve made me feel really good about myself, why does it have to be different just because you’re not a girl? I can’t tell you why Robin knows about this stuff but she says I might be bysix bisexual. Not sure why I need a big fancy word for it when I didn’t have one for liking girls, I just know I care about you a lot and want you to like me. 

And you’re not a coward, you’re very very brave. You reached out first, you went for what you wanted even when I didn’t get it and tried to ask for too much too soon. And then you kept coming back to try again, even though I kept doing that. That’s so brave. 

I’m not feeling so awake anymore so I’m going to stop and have Robin mail this for me. (No way am I going out dressed like this. Her dad wears grandpa shorts dude, it’s pretty bad.) I’ll write more when I’m feeling better. Are you okay? Hope you weren’t anywhere near the mall the other night. Thanks for the rainbow song I will look for it.

Love Steve 

~

Once Eddie is done reading, he screams into his pillow for a different reason. Several, actually. 

First, he’s been so sure for the past week or so that he would never hear from Steve ever again. The only reason he’d checked his mail today was because he should have another zine coming in soon. He didn’t, but there was a yellow envelope with familiar, if slightly messier than usual handwriting on it. And inside that, stationary with colorful geometric shapes along the edges that Eddie now surmises is Robin’s. 

Second, Steve isn’t even writing to tell him to fuck off right to hell. Because yes, Eddie had heard the rumors about Steve calling Jonathan Byers a queer. The irony does send a seam of semi-hysterical laughter through his screams. It’s fine. It’s fine!

Third, Steve hasn’t been avoiding his calls. He just hasn’t been home. He’s hurt, and it sounds like his head and torso took quite a beating. Eddie remembers seeing him around school both times after the other concussions and that had looked bad enough, and that had just been his face. This sounds worse. 

Fourth, Steve is… still interested? Has talked to someone about this and might be bisexual?! Eddie’s never had anyone talk to someone else about him, has always been completely anonymous with a possible option of becoming a dirty little secret. And then the letter ends with ‘Love Steve.’ Love? Love Steve?!

Fifth, Robin knows he sent Steve that ice cream. Eddie doesn’t know what all “platonic soulmates” entails, but what if she tells him? What if she already has?!

Sixth, despite being injured, and having panic attacks apparently, Steve is still asking if he is okay. 

Seventh, beneath his name Steve had also doodled a lopsided happy face with what he can only guess is an ice pack balanced on top. Or… maybe it’s hair. Or some kind of hat. 

Any of these would be enough to make his head spin on their own, but it’s all happening at once and he doesn’t know what to do. So he screams into his pillow for a while longer, kicking his feet for good measure. 

He wants to rush out and find Steve, wherever he is. Wants to call him, but doesn’t know what he would say even if he did know the number to reach him right now. What he could say. Wants to wrap both arms around him and kiss his poor head better. Hell, if he’s turned Steve gay he doesn’t just want, he deserves to make that guy the little spoon for the first time in his life probably and just. Hold him. 

Except… he’s not sure he’s ready for face to face yet. He will be! Soon. Once all the emotions bubbling in his chest have settled a little. And after he’s pinched himself a few million more times just to make sure. But until then…

A thought occurs to him, and Eddie rolls over to frown consideringly up at the ceiling. He’s sent Steve words to comfort and reassure him before, right? Maybe there’s something else he can send, a different way of offering a part of himself to Steve until he works up the nerve to face him for real. 

It’s just going to take him a little time, and some recording equipment. 

~

Dearest Steve,

I hope this address is still okay to write to you while you stay with your friend, but I don’t know where she lives. 

You have no idea 

Holy shit man. Holy shit. Are you serious? No, strike that, you’ve been nothing but genuine in these letters and I trust you, I do. Holy shit though. It’s you. Clearly I never thought I’d actually have a chance, from the way I approached this whole thing, so you must forgive me for how utterly poleaxed, completely flabbergasted, and genuinely gobsmacked I am. 

And shit, I’m still sorry for hanging up on you. That golden years line—and this heavy secret of the most basic fact of who I am weighing on my shoulders, pressing down so hard I couldn’t breathe. I wish I’d just said something. But you’re right, I needed… space? And a push, to work up to writing the last letter I sent you. I got yours the day I put that in the mail, by the way, and that spun me even more because what if you read mine and took it all back?

But you didn’t. You didn’t, sweetheart. I’m still reeling in the best possible way. Again, axed like a pole, flabbers gasted, and gob thoroughly smacked.

Enough about me. More than enough about me. You’re concussed; I ought to wrap that gorgeous head of yours in bubble wrap and offer to fight all your battles henceforth, even against falling buildings. I’m glad you have someone out there who’s looking out for you though. I guess… you’ve told Robin about some things? Maybe these letters? Which is absolutely fine, by the way. It’s great! Fuck knows it wouldn’t have occurred to me to explain what bisexuality is, since I hardly dared to dream so big and only swing the one way myself. You’re an amazingly open-minded person by the way, Steve; I hope you know how rare that is, especially in a place like Hawkins. And Robin too, apparently. Please give her my highest regards, she is an angel among mortals and an inadvertent champion of this sad wet rag of a human being (me). 

At any rate, wishing you the speediest of recoveries and I hope you’re already feeling at least a little better. My condolences on the grandpa shorts, although personally I’m convinced you could wear a trash bag and still look like an Adonis. 

It’s taken me a little longer than I’d like to send this because I made something for you. Enclosed is a tape with some of the songs from our call that you said you liked, played acoustically by yours truly. Rainbow In The Dark is one of them. You mentioned having nightmares, and whenever I had bad dreams as a kid my mom would play for me until I calmed down. She’d hum instead of doing the words, to make it more like a lullaby. I hope it’s at least a decent distraction, sweetheart. 

Let me know if you like it? I can make one of your favorite songs too, just you let me know what they are. In the meantime, I remain, as always—

Your Secret Admirer

~

“You should tell him that you know,” Robin whispers, at some point during the fourth night in a row they’ve ended up crashed on the same bed listening to the Anti-Panic Attack Metal Mix. 

Her dad sleeps like the dead and her mom sleeps with earplugs in because he snores, so they get away with it, but Steve always insists on laying on top of the covers anyway. The friendship is still new, for all that they’re trauma bonded, and he wants to make sure she knows he’s not getting any funny ideas, that he gets the whole lesbian thing, that even though he’s new to being into a dude he’s committed to it and not wishy-washy or greedy or whatever.

He fiddles with a loose string on the blanket for a minute before answering. “No… I don’t want to freak him out again. It’s all going to be on his terms from here on out, no more pushing.”

“Well you’ve got to do something. Come on Steve, I’m invested now. Ask to meet him.”

He rolls his eyes. “What did I just say?” 

Immediately he gives an inward wince, because that came out bitchy. But Robin just snorts and murmurs “Fine,” sounding amused rather than offended, so he relaxes. 

They exist in silence for a while, side by side. Just close enough to not feel alone, drifting on the soft notes and low, rich hum. It’s soothing. 

“What if,” Robin starts, and ignores Steve’s huff. “What if you go somewhere you know he might show, and then give him the opportunity to talk to you?”

“Oh yeah,” he scoffs, “like what?”

“Summer house party.” Her whisper picks up a little in excitement as she warms to her own idea. “I bet we can find one that’s coming up soon. Everyone knows that Munson sells, it’s one of those never invited but always welcome things. Then if he doesn’t come to you, just buy some weed and see if he says anything.”

“No,” Steve whispers back. 

She rolls over to squint at him in the dark. “Just think about it, okay? You wouldn’t be forcing him to do anything, just… providing an opportunity. Come on, Stevie-evie, this is my chance to see a gay love story go right.”

“Vetoing that nickname.” With a sigh, he rolls onto his side too, facing her. “My face still looks like raw hamburger meat, Robs. I have like zero charm right now.”

The swelling has gone down, at least to where he can open his eye again but the bruising remains spectacular. It looks like a sunset exploded across the side of his face, and not in a good way. 

Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re more than just your face, dingus. It wasn’t your rugged jawline, sculpted cheekbones, or pimple-free forehead that wrote those letters, it was you. Steve.”

He goes to wrinkle his nose at the descriptions, but quickly remembers that’s still a bad idea with a swallowed grunt. “Please, never describe me again.”

“I make no promises. And anyway, if you’re willing to try makeup I think we could get most of it covered so no one’ll ever notice. Not at night, anyway.”

That gives him pause. He rolls onto his back again to think about it, staring up at the ceiling of Robin’s bedroom and tracing imaginary constellation lines between the glow in the dark stars she has up there. Beside him, he feels her settling on her back too without having to look. 

It’s not like when he’d found a little brother in Dustin—who has visited pretty much every day during Steve’s convalescence, sometimes with Erica or Mike, Lucas, and Max in tow, spouting off things he’s read in books about the various still-healing injuries. As annoying as it is, Steve appreciates that the little dork took the time to study what’s wrong with him enough to provide armchair diagnoses and give him advice about things that he already knows. 

Robin is… more of a twin than a sister. (Which, yeah, twin sister, whatever. That’s not the point.) They’re on the same wavelength in a way he’s never experienced before, not with Tommy or Carol or even Nancy. The closest thing Steve has ever had to this was during basketball games, in the heat of a play where everyone on the team knew where everyone was and where they’d be and how to work together as a unit, perfectly in sync. Only with Robin, it’s all the time. Sometimes they can even finish each other’s sentences—though they try not to do that around her parents, in the interest of not wanting them to think they’re a couple. 

They’re more like a pair of bonded kittens at the pound, Robin says. Must be adopted together. (“Okay, but why can’t we be dogs? Dogs are cooler.” “Because, dingus, you have a one-hundred-and-twenty-seven step hair and skin routine and you’re incredibly aloof when you want to be. I could go either way, but you’re one hundred percent cat.”)

“Maybe,” he whispers finally. 

He’s not sure she’s still awake—he’s not sure he’s still awake, with the soothing music lulling him back to a calm he hadn’t felt even before he’d gone to bed the first time. But he wants to think she hears it, just like he wants to think that he’ll run into Eddie and find out what it’s like to hold his hand, maybe even kiss him, all in the same night. He’s worn lip gloss, he can deal with a little makeup. 

“Maybe I’ll go.”

~

Dear Secret Admirer,

Thank you for the tape, it’s perfect. It helps me get back to sleep because it feels like you’re there, watching over me. Like nothing bad can happen. Sometimes the nightmares still come back after but I think it’s getting better. It takes a while, you know? Last time, after the after Billy after my last concussion it took a while to stop having bad dreams. I guess the mind needs time to heal too, even if the stuff that happens to it isn’t as “real” as breaking a nose or a rib. Who knew?

I really am serious, yeah. Even though I’m me. Whatever that means. I don’t really know what to do with myself or what I want right now. (Except you. Kind of cheesy, but maybe you like that about me? I guess it’s something I always tried to hide before because the guys would’ve made fun of me, fuck knows Tommy did all of junior year, but I kind of like the idea that maybe you saw it anyway.) Once my face heals up me and Robin are going to try and get jobs together somewhere else because we’re cats that have to stick together or we’ll get stressed out and claw all the furniture. Other than that I don’t know what I want to do except leave Hawkins someday. But stick around to make sure it’s to see the kids graduate. Dustin’s starting high school in the fall, maybe you could keep an eye out for him? Curly hair, no collarbones, ego bigger than the whole state, total nerd but in a good way, even if he’s sometimes a butthead about it. He plays that game with dragons and those weird looking dice, do you know it? Him and his friends Mike and Lucas are kind of bully magnets. (Max is starting freshman year too but she can take care of herself in that department.) They’ve all been pretty down after the mall and with Will and moving away and everything. Erica, Lucas’ little sister, I guess I’m her “babysitter” now too, is still in middle school but I don’t know if she’d be glad or insulted if I waited around to see her graduate. She can take care of herself too. She and Dustin were with us for most of the Starcourt burning down and it was a lot, but kids are resilient. I don’t think she gets nightmares, not that she would ever admit to anyone if she did even though in her own words “we’ve bled together.” She’s getting into the nerdy dice game too and is planning her campaign for President of the USA as soon as she turns, what, 40? 50? Whatever age you have to be before you can do that. I’ll probably still be in a town like Hawkins with another lame retail job by then, but she’s got my vote. She’d do a hell of a lot better job than Regan, that’s for sure. 

Is your mom My mom never sang to

Also, you are really good at guitar, man. I still think about your hands, I bet you have long fingers. Really… What’s a word for ‘good with his fingers’? I think about that sometimes. I don’t really know what kind of stuff two guys can do together except the obvious but I think about that a lot. I want you to play me like your guitar. I’d let you fight my battles too, at least until my ribs get back to normal and then we can both fight both of our battles. You know I’d do that for you, right? If you ever need me. I really like these letters. I really like you.

Love, Steve

P.S. If you were serious about making me another tape (which you really don’t have to, this was already going above and beyond), my favorite songs are…

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