#like yeah of course. fork found in kitchen.

[ratatatastic]

oh "[ekblad] fits in really well next to gustav forsling"? yeah he does!

[pitchsidestories]

the law of attraction II Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1880

a/n: hi, it's based off this lovely request here. On a different note, how adorable are Ingrid and Mapi in that gif ?! ❤️

“Here comes our little genius, girls.”, Mapi told her teammates proudly while you walked towards the injured defender. Their curious glances made your face turn hot.

“Maria, we’re the same height, so stop calling me little!”, you playfully rolled her eyes at her.

“Sure.”, she shook her head in amusement.

“Girls.”, Ingrid intervened smiling.

“Ingrid, hi.”, you greeted her, happy to see the Norwegian again.

“Hi. Nice to see you.”, the dark-haired woman responded, wrapping her arms around you for a hug.

“Great to see you too. Also watching you two at training is something different than Uni.”, you mumbled thankfully into her embrace.

The weight of the library books in your rucksack reminded you of what you’ve been doing the whole day. Spending too much time in front of your laptop without successfully coming closer to solving the mathematical issue you’ve been working on.

“She’s getting some distraction from a math problem.”, Mapi explained to the fellow footballers with a smug grin on her lips.

“Yes, maybe the distraction helps me to solve it later.”, you replied in a hopeful tone.  

“Worth a try.”, Ingrid nodded.

“Exactly.”

“Such a smart ass.”, the tattooed Spaniard teased you.

“Maria.”, the Scandinavian scolded the older woman before she continued beaming at you, maybe we can all grab some food together after training?”

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea.”, you answered happily, you could really need a distraction and being in your friend’s apartment with Bagheera who loved to cuddle with you sounded delightful in your ears.

“Math nerd, it’s time for the beauties to get to work.”, Alexia reminded the three of you winking.

“I’m not keeping them from it.”, you pointed out laughing.

To her captain the defender said slightly annoyed:” Yeah, yeah, we’re coming.”

On their way to the training pitch, Marta remarked:” I mean you two have a personal supporter here so you should be motivated.”

“She's probably calculating some stuff in her head instead of watching.”, Mapi commented with a smirk.

Ingrid agreed: “As usual but she looks adorable while doing so.”

“Yeah, she does.”

Both of them watched on as you stared into space, too occupied with the equations in front of your inner eye.

Alexia shot her two teammates a suspicious look and teased: “One could almost think you two are in love with her.”

Mapi laughed nonchalantly: “Oh, please.”

“We're not.”, Ingrid protested, a pinkish hue appeared on her cheeks as she jogged off to warm up.

Alexia followed closely: “Just focus on training.”

“I am focused.”, Ingrid said.

The team captain looked over her shoulder at Mapi with a raised eyebrow: “I mean both of you.”

“Ale!”

She shrugged Mapis complaint away: “I just want to train.

Right after training, you found yourself at Mapis and Ingrids apartment. The takeaway you picked up on your way back filled the kitchen with a delicious smell of freshly cooked Thai food. You gathered around the kitchen table as Mapi started to set the table.

“You girls did so well.”, you remarked as you opened the styrofoam boxes, eyeing the food.

Mapi chuckled: “It was just a training session… or did you mean picking the food?”

“The food actually.”, you grinned, cheekily stealing a fork full.

“Of course, we're great at that.”, Mapi replied.

You started to spoon some food onto your plate and smiled: “Trainingwise, you both seemed a bit distracted.”

“Distracted?”, Ingrid echoed, almost dropping her fork in surprise.

“Yes.”

Her girlfriend swiftly changed the topic: “Tell us instead if there's someone distracting you from doing too much uni stuff.”

“No, no time for that. Besides you two do that already.”, you answered truthfully.

The norwegian blinked at you innocently: “We're not doing anything.”

“Right, we only invite you over for dinner or games.”, Mapi nodded.

“See?”, you only asked, the couple clearly already made the point for you.

Mapi gave you an unimpressed look and said around a mouthful of food: “You could just say no.”

“Yes, but I like going.”, you had to admit.

“And you can't work on your uni stuff all day round.”, Ingrid joined in.

“Exactly.”

You sighed. It was charming that they worried about you but in the end, you had chosen this career path and you loved what you did.

“It's kind of my job…”

“Yes, and we're so proud of you.”, Ingrid said, carefully reaching across the table to take your hand in hers.

You took a deep breath before confessing:” Thanks. It just gets lonely at times. Sometimes I want to have a relationship but then I again, I don’t think I would have time for that.”

“You know we’re always here for you, right?”, Mapi asked you in a cautiously tone.

You shot her a grateful glance: “I do, and I appreciate that.”

“You know, I think there might be a solution for this.”, the Spanish defender begun.

“You do?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously at her.

Turning her head to face the Norwegian, Mapi continued:” I think Ingrid is thinking the same.”

“I am.”, her girlfriend nodded earnestly.

Confused you looked between the football players:” What are you talking about?”

“Tell her, Mapi.”, Ingrid urged the Spanish woman to keep talking.

“We could provide the relationship stuff for you while you focus on your studies.”, the defender suggested.

“Wait.. are you saying..? You must be joking.”, you responded, the surprise clearly written all over your face.

“No, we’re serios, y/n.”, Mapi reassured you.

“We both want to be with you.”, Ingrid emphasized the previous words of her girlfriend.

“I thought I was the only one with the crush.”, you replied still shocked by the offer of your friends.

“Oh dear, you might be very book smart, but..”, the defender smirked.

“But not when it comes to girls.”, the Norwegian ended the sentence of the older woman equally amused.

“The laws of attraction.”, Mapi hummed.

“That’s something they don’t teach in University.”, you answered, running one hand nervously through your open hair.

“No worries, we can teach you that like you taught me math at school all those years ago.”, the defender promised in a soothingly voice.

“I think I would like that.”, you declared smiling.

“So would be.”, Ingrid grinned satisfied.

“I can’t believe that.”, you giggled in disbelief.

“You better start believing.”, Mapi said.

“She’s a mathematician, she probably needs proof, Mapi.”, the dark-haired woman reminded the older player.

The Spanish defender mumbled:” Good point.” She was the first to kiss you, Ingrid followed swiftly. Both kisses tasted like the start of something new and exciting.

“What do you think? Enough proof?”, the Scandinavian midfielder gave you a challenging look.

“Yes, I think that was enough to make me believe that you were serious about this.”, you responded with a shy smile on your lips.

“That’s what we wanted to hear.”, Mapi commented beaming.

It took you some time to get used to a new relationship but a few weeks in, you could confirm that you felt happy and safe with your two girlfriends. So, of course you were a tiny bit sad when they left for the Champions League semifinal in London while you had to stay in Barcelona and work on your thesis… Or at least that was you told them.

Ingrid stood on the perfect green grass at Stamford Bridge right before warm-up. She watched the stadium slowly fill through a curtain of rain.

With a soft sigh, she said: “It's sad that y/n couldn't come with us to London, Mapi…”

“Maybe she can join us for the final if she isn't too busy.”, the injured defender shrugged.

“I mean it's in Spain which might make it easier for her.”

“That would be great.”, Mapi agreed.

A sudden grin appeared on Ingrids face as she pointed over towards the away fans. A red and blue flag had caught her attention. “Oh look, someone in the stands has the same flag as you, Mapi.”

As Mapi followed her gaze, Ingrids jaw dropped in shock: “Wait, is that y/n?”

From your place in the stands, you had no idea what your girlfriends said but the way their faces went from shock to lighting up with excitement told you everything you needed to know.

“There's no way!”, Mapi exclaimed.

“That little bi-…”, Ingrid started but was quickly interrupted by Marta who nodded in Vickys and Salmas direction. “Ingrid, not in front of the children!”

“Sorry.”, the Norwegian laughed before pulling Mapi with her towards the stands.

Laughing, you waved your Barcelona flag as they came to a stop in front of you: “Hi Ingrid, Mapi.”

“What are you doing here?!“, Mapi asked, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek.

You shrugged: “Surprising you girls.”

“You said you were too busy!”, Ingrid pouted.

“And I was busy but one of my fellow students reminded me that you only live once, so…” You gestured around the stadium with an innocent smile.

Mapi shook her head: “Why do you listen to them but not to us?”

“It's a scientific fact that we only have one life…”

She did not let you finish and instead rolled her eyes: “I can't with you nerd.”

“Me neither but I'm really glad you’re here.”, Ingrid smiled at you.

You grinned: “You're welcome.”

“You'll be our lucky charm.”, the defender winked and you could feel the blood rushing into your cheeks.

“Hope it works.”

Ingrid gave you a quick kiss: “See you after the match.”

“Have fun but win this.”, you called after her as she hurried away to warm up with the rest of the team.

Over her shoulder, she replied: “With Mapi and you we should be able to.”

“Ready, Mapi?”, you asked the Spanish defender smirking.

She took your hand in hers, replying confidently: ”Ready.”

“I can’t wait.”, you exclaimed as they started playing the hymn of the women’s champions league.

Despite the rain the team of your girlfriends were eager to win this and Mapi and you tried your best to support them from the stands. After the match ended in a 2:0 for Barcelona, your friend cheered:”Y/n, we won!”

“Ingrid was amazing, right?”, you wanted to know from her, your eyes lit up with excitement.

“Yes, she was.”, Mapi grinned at you. Both of you were too caught up in your bliss, so you didn’t saw the Norwegian coming.

“Hey!”, she greeted you, mirroring your bright smiles.

“You were so great, Ingrid.”, you told her proudly.

“Thanks.”, Ingrid responded.

“We’re so proud of you.”, Mapi mumbled while wrapping her arms around the taller woman who lifted her up easily in their hug.

“You were amazing support.”, the younger player declared.

The Spanish defender who was pulling you into the group huddle announced with a cheeky grin:” That means you’ve to come to the final too.”

“I do?”, you questioned amused.

“Yes, absolutely, you can’t say no.”, Ingrid tuned in.

“I’ll see if I can make it happen.”

“We’ll count that as a yes.”, Mapi winked at you before kissing first the Norwegians cheek than yours.

And indeed, you were able to come to the Champions League final much to the happiness of your girlfriends. The law of attraction didn’t allow anything else. Love has won before any of the teams graced the pitch.

[lovebugism]

could you do some drunk Eddie blurbs or oneshots? Thanks! I love your stuff btw

✶ ┄ DRUNK IN LOVE !

summary: "you're drunk, eds" / "yeah, super drunk. and in the morning, when i'm sober, you’ll still be beautiful… i’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you." pairing: best friend!eddie munson / f!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: talks of alcohol, getting drunk, and taking care of a super drunk eddie! barely proofread so pretend any typos are nonexistent <3 a/n: i'm learning it's next impossible for me to write blurbs. i get an idea for one and boom. it's nearly 4k words. thanks for the request, anon! hope you like it xoxo

( MASTERLIST )

Eddie didn’t realize until he was halfway through his fifth beer, that he probably should’ve stopped at his fourth. 

He’d stumbled upon that finicky little fork in the road at the crux both drinks, a line he was toeing all night between blissfully tipsy and borderline obliterated. You can only really maneuver it if you’re smart about it, and in true Munson fashion, Eddie opted for the exact wrong decision.

It wasn’t like he’d ever prided himself on being a man of self-control. He was gluttonous to a fault, green and greedy at times, especially when there was free alcohol involved.

Eddie had been a grumpy little stick in the mud when you and him first got to Steve’s place. He didn’t feel like partying that night or sharing you with people he could barely stand. They were your friends, after all, not his. He only tolerated the bunch of them because you did. He spent the entire drive lamenting about how illegal it was — to be his best friend and have other people in your life you cared about the same way you cared about him. 

“That’s obviously against the rules,” he joked.

You only scoffed in response. “Obviously.”

Undeterred by his complaints, you drug him halfway across Hawkins with you like a storm cloud on a leash.

When you arrived, he found that it wasn’t a party at all. It was just Steve and Robin drinking together on the couch while Nancy and Jonathan stirred around in the kitchen and scolded Argyle for rifling through all the cabinets.

Music spilled lowly from the radio, a platter of snacks were laid out on the coffee table, and everyone smiled at you when you walked in. It wasn’t nearly as loud or as overwhelming as he’d dreaded it might be on the drive over.

Didn’t mean he was any happier about it, though.

“I don’t know about this,” he cautioned in your ear from where he stood behind your shoulder, seeking a familiar refuge in you once all the greetings were done. “We talked to everyone, can’t we just, like… go? I don’t think I’m gonna have a good time here, babe.”

Babe, he calls you, a nickname that’s left half of Hawkins believing the two of you were really dating. You stopped blushing about it some years ago, when the novelty of it wore off and it ultimately replaced your actual name.

You shrugged, grasping for a reason to make him stay. “Steve said he had a keg.”

The big silver thing next to the kitchen island didn’t catch his eye until then. You peered up at him, finding a sudden sparkle in his gaze. His bushy brows bounced and his pink mouth fell soft agape at the sight of it. Something swelled in his heart then, a distant and boyish happiness. 

“…I’m gonna try.”

He was pretty much a goner after that.

The beer was pretty stellar, but more than anything, the keg kept it cold. Eddie could barely drag himself away from the damn thing — the red solo cup hadn’t left his right hand all night. And when Steve let him handle the music, that was even better… Well, technically, he let you handle the music, but you sifted through his tapes and picked only what you knew Eddie would like — just like you always did.

Any other time, Eddie might’ve asked what the hell King Steve was doing with so many KISS cassettes, but he was already too drunk to think logically about anything by the time “Detroit Rock City” started playing. He stopped caring and let all the beer and music coursing through his system do all the work for him.

And while stumbling for his sixth refill with Robin, he concludes that he is, in fact, completely and utterly and unabashedly drunk. He’s still sober yet, enough to make such an admission to himself, but too far gone now to stop drinking.

He crouches slightly to bring the nozzle to the rim of his cup without much resistance. His tongue pokes through his tingling lips as he pours all of his concentration into aiming the beer into his plastic chalice and not completely toppling over onto the kitchen floor below him.

That’s when he spots you and Steve sitting on the couch, a little too close for his liking.

The brunette boy has his arms sprawled over the back of the sofa like he owns the place (Eddie’s too drink to remember he does, in fact, own the place) and your legs are delicately crossed and turned towards him, too enraptured in whatever conversation you were having to notice that your best friend had run off (you’d been trying to look after him all night, it wasn’t your fault he kept dodging you).

And it wasn’t his place to be jealous, he knew that. You didn’t belong to him. You could do whatever the hell you wanted to.

If he wasn’t so sloshed, he might’ve been able to recall that you don’t have a thing for Steve — that you’ve never had a thing for Steve, because you’ve spent your entire life in love with your best friend.

But you were too chicken shit to tell Eddie and Eddie was too oblivious to see any of it and it left the both of you in a permanent limbo of unsaid feelings.

So much so, that he once encouraged you to conquer the feat of King Steve one night, many moons ago. He thought he’d noticed the two of you being overtly touchy in the back of a dimly lit club.

Eddie was sober enough then to make fun of it all while still feeling every ounce of his misplaced jealousy as he playfully promised you that “you had his blessing to screw Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”

You should’ve known you were screwed when you told him that you didn’t want to screw Steve because “you had your eyes on someone else,” and he completely missed the brave, longing look you shot his way.

Eddie spent the rest of the night pestering you endlessly about your crush, while you just sat there, red hot and embarrassed about the whole thing.

Now he’s the one feeling like a fool, watching his best friend make nice with the dowager king of Hawkins.

Being without you makes the distance feel somehow wider from where stands across the too big house, feeling like a stray puppy everyone adores but never actually choses.

Robin taps him on the shoulder to bring him from his stupor before he can waste the foaming beer rapidly filling his cup, though there was no stopping the drunken war path he goes on after.

You and Steve giggle to yourselves as you watch Nancy twirl drunkenly to the tune of the Joan Jett, louder when Jonathan fights to keep her from stumbling over herself. The boy leans over to you, whispering a joke only you can hear, and smiling when it makes you laugh.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie scolds when he stumbles up to the couch. “What’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over here, huh?”

The two of you blink up at the boy, surprised by his sudden visit and how much drunker he’d gotten since you spoke to him last.

He’s all flushed out, cheeks glowing red with the alcohol in his system, and slurring something fierce — the kind of drawled out garbles that only sound clear to the one that’s speaking.

“We were talking about you, Eds,” you smile without missing a beat. “Been missin’ you over here.”

Steve nods with a dumb, tight-lipped grin. “Yeah. You’ve been making friends with that keg instead of the rest of us, man—”

“Yeah, right,” the boy scoffs out a laugh with a bitter nod. He less than gracefully squeezes between your legs and the coffee table. “Scooch over, Harrington. Make some room. ’S too damn cuddly over here.”

With no choice but to comply, the two of you part.

“Scooch?” you hear Steve mutter under his breath with a faint laugh that has you giggling too. Eddie’s not drunk enough to miss the glance that both of you share, seemingly having some sort of silent conversation that’s left him, yet again, out of the loop.

He’s got a full on pout on his numbing face when he settles between you and Steve, losing his balance briefly before landing in a clumsy pile between the both of you. The beer in his freshly filled up cup sloshes over the rim and splashes into your lap. The alcohol stains the belly of your t-shirt, leaving it cold and clinging to your skin.

And it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it seem, where a guy spills a drink on a girl and something terribly melodramatic ensues. You weren’t trying to impress anybody, least of all with your outfit — hell, you’d probably stolen it from Eddie himself a lifetime or more ago. You don’t get angry or rush out of the room for a good cry.

Actually, you smile sweetly at him, with the realization that it was time for you and your way-too-drunk-to-function best friend to head home.

Eddie gets all sad about it anyway, though, because to him it really does feel all that dramatic. His face screws up like he’s just done something irreversible. His umber eyes glimmer at you with a particular sadness only a drunk person could possess. 

“Shit, babe… I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, Eds—”

“No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry,” he slurs with the sloppy shake of his head. “Please don’t be mad at me, babe. I didn’t mean to.”

“No one’s mad at you, Eddie,” you affirm with a soft laugh, dabbing at the wet spot of your shirt with the bunch of napkins Jonathan (the only other half-sober person aside from you and Steve) haphazardly hands to you.

“I can give you another shirt, if you want,” Steve offers, already standing to retrieve it for you. “Might be too big but it’s—”

Eddie’s head snaps away from you and to the brunette boy. A cartoon-like anger coats his buzzing features. “Like hell you will, Harrington,” he tries to threaten, though the words come out half-jumbled together. “Won’t have my girl wearin’ your shit, Steven—”

You burn red hot at the new nickname, equal parts embarrassed and delighted as you stand from your position on the sofa. Suddenly eager to escape the situation, you reach for Eddie’s hand. “Alright, Eds. Let’s go.”

He accepts your touch without question, rising on swaying feet and forcing you to keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady.

He’s already forgotten what he just said. He has no idea that your heart’s just done a billion backflips for him. He focuses, instead, on the thought of a new adventure with you. “Ooh. Where we goin’ now?”

“I’m taking you back to the trailer, okay?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, suddenly displeased again. “Yeah, whatever… You wanna spend more time with King Steve, I see what you’re doin’—”

“I’m coming with you, Eds,” you laugh.

It’s like the switch flipped and he’s grinning all sloppy and stupid at you again. He tosses the smug look to the boy standing at his other side. “Suck it, Stevie—”

“Eddie!” you scold.

“You guys can just take the spare bedroom,” Steve offers despite Eddie’s teasing. “I don’t want you driving like this.”

“Oh, how fucking chivalrous,” your best friend grumbles under his breath.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” you press with brows furrowed in concern. “I don’t want to, you know, intrude or whatever. I’m good to drive—”

“No, it’s fine. Really. He should probably lie down anyway.”

“Yeah… Okay.”

“You know where it is, right?” he asks you and you nod

Eddie takes great offense to your affirmative answer.

“Wait, why do you know where it is?” he pouts down at you, figuring there’s something dirty hidden in the fact you’ve slept in your friend’s guest bedroom before. You shake your head and opt not to answer as you help him towards the stairs. “Why do you know where it is?”

“—Go upstairs, okay?” you shout over him, trying your best to stay patient. “I’ll check on you in a second.”

He lingers on the first stair and juts out his lip. His pointer fingers trails the intricate carvings in the wood of the banister while his glassy puppy dog eyes glimmer down at you. “…Promise?”

“Yes, Eddie. I promise.”

With that, he makes careful work climbing the stairs, hanging onto the railing for dear life as he goes. You watch attentively, prepared to rush to him if he stumbles, and able to breathe out a sigh of relief when he makes it to the top step. 

You turn away from the hallway of the staircase and back to your friends, who — save for Steve and maybe Jonathan — haven’t yet bothered to acknowledge the situation.

Robin is rifling through Steve’s cabinets for food, Argyle’s at the keg pouring beer into his mouth straight from the nozzle, and Nancy hasn’t stopped dancing the entire time. You’re not even sure if she knows the song.

“I didn’t know you guys were dating,” Stevie remarks with a smile. “No wonder he was being so… like that.”

You shake your head and duck your gaze. “We’re not. Dating, I mean— he’s just, like, super drunk.”

“…Really?”

“Really,” you breathe out a laugh at the way your admission make this face twist in confusion.

“I’ve just— I’ve never heard a drunk person talk that way about someone they didn’t, you know… like.”

A part of you so desperately wants that to be true.

Eddie’s never been particularly shy about calling you babe or sweetheart or honey in front of people — sometimes he did it just to throw them off. But something about him getting jealous over a guy you’ve never liked, calling you his girl to bat the believed ‘affections’ away, has a foreign feeling swirling in your belly.

You force yourself to swallow your hopes down.

“Well, you’ve never met drunk Eddie,” you tell him with a shrug. “The freak’ll say just about anything.”

You make your way up to the guest bedroom and find Eddie slouched at the top step. He looks terribly sad, pouting with his elbows propped up on his knees and his hands on his chin. But he lights up like a christmas tree all over again at the sight of you.

“What are you doing, Eddie? You were supposed to be laying down,” you scold softly.

“I missed you,” he whines, gazing up at you with twinkling, red-rimmed eyes. “And I got lost… And then I forgot how to walk.”

You try your best to keep a straight face as you help him up again, trying to ignore the way your heart thrums like a hummingbird when he leans completely into your side. 

You walk the staggering boy the short distance to Steve’s guest bedroom.

It’s as extravagant as the rest of the house, complete with large windows and expensive furniture and a thousand throw pillows on the freshly made bed. The entire room practically sparkles, there’s not a single crease in the bedsheets; it probably hasn’t been touched since the last time one of you spent the night there.

Eddie flops onto the bed when you urge him to sit down. He makes himself comfortable with ease, legs still hanging over the side as he throws his arms out, melting easily into the newly laundered blankets.

You navigate through the darkness, illuminated only by a subtle moonlight, to the seating area across the room. The newly granted privacy of the guest bedroom allows you to strip off your damp shirt. The wet spot sticks to your skin when you peel it off of you. The feeling makes you grimace. 

You don’t think twice about being in your bra in front of Eddie — he’s not even looking at you now — and besides, he’s seen you in less. You’ve been friends for far too long to care. Being naked in front of each other stops meaning so much after accidentally catching each other changing a half a billion times.

Leaving your shirt in a crumpled pile on the arm of the couch, you make the silent decision to sleep there for the night. Many a bed has been shared between you and Eddie, but he’s going to need all the comfort he can get tonight — the hangover he’ll have tomorrow will feel like hell, no doubt.

You look across the dark room at Eddie and find he hasn’t moved an inch. “Take off your clothes, Eds. You’re not gonna be comfortable sleeping in jeans.”

“Mm,” he groans in the darkness, as though in protest, already half-asleep.

“You’re already gonna feel like shit in the morning, especially if you’re sleeping like that,” you advise with a soft laugh. “Come on, Eds. At least take off your shoes.”

“…Don’t know how,” he murmurs.

You roll your eyes at him, even though he can’t see you, even though you do it all for him anyway. It was second nature to you, taking care of Eddie, and you do it with an ease that makes his drunken little heart swell. 

You start with his shoes, not having to untie them because they’re so loose on his feet. His jeans come next, a far bigger struggle because you do it with little help from the boy in the bed. His belt is strangely tricky and he claims his body feels too heavy to lift his hips for you.

But what he lacks in assistance, he makes up for in cheeky one-liners — “At least, take me out to dinner first, babe” and “If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you coulda just said" to name a few.

Once he’s clad in nothing but his Hellfire t-shirt, R2D2 patterned underwear, and hand-me-down socks that barely fit him, you maneuver him so he’s lying properly in bed.

You toss away all the pillows that are more for decoration than anything else, pull the covers down and over his body, and Eddie doesn’t do a single damn thing but watch. 

He couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to because his heart is so far in his throat he can’t breathe. 

You’re so unfamiliarly soft with him — sweet in your way than anyone will ever be to him in his lifetime, than anyone will ever be to anyone else.

The love you bathe him in half-sobers him and tosses him into a spiral of self-hatred. Why did it take getting drunk at Steve’s place to realize he’s been so head over heels for you he hasn’t stood up straight in years?

Drunken words sit impatiently on his tongue. He lacks the self-control to keep the hidden.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles tiredly.

Your hands almost immediately still where they bunch the covers up at his chest. Your eyes dart to his face and it takes everything in you not to duck away all over again, when you see the way he’s looking at you. 

Eddie looks so soft, basked in a soft moonlight streaming in through parted sheer curtains.

His brown eyes twinkle with stars of their own. He gazes up at you like you put them there.

He doesn’t miss the shock that coats your features. Your eyes widen in surprise of his words at first, before your brows furrow and you shake your head to yourself in denial — like you’re not deserving of them. Like you’re not standing over him in your baggy jeans and five-year-old cotton bra after he spilt his beer all over you, taking care of him because he’s too drunk to take care of himself, doting on him like it’s second nature to you.

As far as Eddie’s concerned, there’s never been a sight more beautiful than this one.

“Stop,” you manage a laugh, still swallowing down that glimmer of hope that lingers on the back of your tongue. “You’re drunk, Eds.”

“Yeah. Super drunk,” he nods unabashedly. A distant smile hints at the corner of his lips as he gazes up at you like he’s trying to commit your features to memory — the angle of your nose, the shape of your jaw, the softness of your lips, and the way you’re looking down at him like you’re wondering if he’s real or not. “And in the morning, when I’m sober, you’ll still be beautiful… I’m just gonna be too chicken shit to tell you.”

You never thought Eddie would say something like this — not something so profound it makes your heart stop and especially not to you. You always dreamed that he might. And you had nightmares that it wouldn’t. That he would utter them to someone who wasn’t you.

But here he is now, loving on you and calling you pretty and hating himself for not being able to tell you that, and you don’t know what to do.

“…Okay,” is all you can say in response, nodding your head like an idiot. You force yourself to move on quickly, focusing instead on tucking him further into the unfamiliar bed.

It’s easier than concentrating on your racing heart that ticks like a time bomb seconds away from going off.

“Thanks for taking care of me, babe,” he murmurs quietly, blinking slow and heavy up at you. “I’m sorry… I know I don’t deserve it—”

“I’ll take care of you forever, Eds. You know that,” you interject without thinking. “And you don’t ever have to apologize to me.”

Eddie lets your words settle over him like the cozy blanket you cover him with. They bathe him like warm water, prickle his skin like they’re cleansing him.

The intent behind them means more than he could ever comprehend, half-drunk or sober still.

He rises abruptly, disrupting the cocoon you’d just tucked him into, as he works with disoriented hands to peel off his shirt. “What are you doing, Eds?” he hears you laugh when his head and arms get caught in the fabric.

You help him out of it anyway, tugging the cotton over him and gaping at him when he hands the bunched up t-shirt over to you.

“Here,” he offers like you’re supposed to know what to do with it.

“…What?”

“Want you to wear it… And to go downstairs so Steve will see you in it.”

You roll your eyes though a smile plasters itself on your mouth. You slip the thing over your head and pretend it's just to appease him. It isn’t the first time you’ve worn something of his, but this time feels so much different. 

“Better?” you tease.

Eddie nods with a childlike happiness.

You’ve always been his, in your own special way, but wearing his shirt? It’s like you’re waving a big, brightly-colored flag — a lit up I’m with stupid sign with a flashing arrow pointed right at him. It makes him grin like an idiot.

“Now, go to sleep, alright? We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re so hungover you wanna die,” you joke, still perched at his bedside.

Before you rise, you lean over and press a quick peck to the tip of his warm nose. 

You want to do more than that, so much more than that, but you know that he’s still half-drunk — and that he might not mean a single word of this come sunrise.

You’ll revel in this softness now, either way it goes.

“And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful too.”

[moonstruckme]

Busybody

summary: when Steve notices your anxiety spiraling out of control, he finds his own way to help

cw: anxiety

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’d woken up with some busybody in your chest that you can’t get rid of. 

It feels like you’ve had three cups of coffee despite your four hours of sleep. You’d all but jolted awake, pre-panicked about something that you haven’t identified yet. Something you have to be forgetting, or not assigning enough importance to, surely. And the way you figure it, if your body’s going to freak out at you about being idle, you may as well appease it and hop to. 

By the time Steve cracks an eyelid, you’re thinking about what to make for lunch. Heart never having left your throat, you’ve cleaned the kitchen, baked a blackberry cobbler, tried to read a few pages of your book before giving up for fidgetiness, reorganized your portion of the bathroom cabinet, and begun a grocery list for the week. 

“Morning,” he yawns, leaning against the counter. He’s looking endearingly rumpled, a faint red line on his face from a crease in his pillowcase and his hair pressed flat on the one side. You smile at him as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Smells like fire in here.” 

“Morning! I made a cobbler,” you explain, not mentioning the burnt first attempt that’s smelled up his kitchen despite you opening all the windows. “Do you want some bacon, eggs, and toast for breakfast?”

Steve blinks, eyebrows rising slightly. “Uh, sure. You gonna make me some?” 

“Mhm.” You’re already taking the eggs out of the fridge. “Scrambled?” 

“Yeah. Thanks, babe.” 

“No problem.” You grin, happy to be of use as you whisk his eggs with a fork, turning on two burners of the stove to preheat as you do. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he yawns. “Well, pretty good. Woke up a couple times this morning, but you were already gone. Been up for a while?” 

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep.” 

Steve nods, frowning. “Sorry, honey. You didn’t get much chance to sleep the night before, either, right?” 

You hum, bacon sizzling when it hits the pan. You put the toast down in the toaster, hoping you’ve timed it right so it’ll still be warm when everything else is done. “Oh, do you want orange juice?” 

“Sure, but I can grab it.” He moves for the cabinet, but you nudge in front of him, too restless to stop moving while everything heats on the stove. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” You shoot him a smile as you grab a cup. Steve returns it, but muddled.

“So between last night and the one before, how many hours have you gotten?” 

You shrug. “Not sure.” Nine, give or take. “But I don’t feel tired.” 

“Well, that’s good,” he says slowly, watching as you fill the cup with orange juice before hustling back to the stove, flitting between tasks at something approaching light speed. 

“Hey, so I was thinking,” you go on, flipping the bacon, “do you want to do some Christmas shopping today? I mean, I know you said you’re not thinking about it yet, but it can’t hurt to get a jump on things.” 

Steve yawns again, stretching his back. “Yeah, that sounds okay. Not sure I’d know what to get anyone.” 

You nod a few times. “Maybe you’ll know it when you see it.” Flip the bacon onto a plate, add more pepper to the eggs, put the bacon’s pan in the sink, turn off that burner on the stove—the toaster goes off, and you nearly hit your head on the ceiling. You jump straight up. 

“Oh.” You press a hand to your chest, laughter tripping off your tongue. Your blood thrums excitedly, like it’s finally found the outlet it's been looking for all morning. “God, that scared me.” 

“I could tell,” Steve says, eyebrows at his hairline and smiling faintly. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah, good.” Your heartbeat has become more noticeable all of a sudden, a hollow ache behind your breastbone. “I’m almost done, just a sec.” 

“No rush, honey. Thanks for making me breakfast. It looks great.” 

“Of course, no problem.” You plate up the rest and spin to find Steve already there, his hand the only thing stopping you from nearly flinging the dish into the wall surprisedly. 

“Thank you,” he says earnestly, taking the plate from you and setting it on the counter. He brings his arms around your shoulders, and you wrap yours around him too, an automatic response. Steve sighs, his ribs expanding and contracting with the force of it, and you copy him mockingly. 

“Still tired, baby?” 

“A little,” he admits. “Though I can’t really complain, considering how little sleep you’ve gotten.” 

You make to pull out of the hug, but Steve tightens his grip on you, palm pressing into the midpoint of your upper back. You give in, a willing captive. 

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “I’m sorry you’re tired.” 

Steve hums, taking another big breath. “I’m good.” A pause. “Okay, you can tell me if I’m crazy, but it does smell like something’s burning in here, right?” 

“Burnt,” you admit. “I left a blackberry cobbler in the oven a bit too long. The one in the fridge is a re-do.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Sorry.” 

“No, don’t be. I think the smell’s clearing out anyway. Right?”

You sniff experimentally at the air. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“Yeah?” he sniffs too. 

You inhale more fully, only detecting the faint remains of smokiness under the newer scent of bacon grease. 

“I’ve never had blackberry cobbler,” he says, palm beginning to coast slowly between your shoulder blades while his other arm stays firmly around your waist. “What’s it taste like?”

You perk up. “Wanna try some now?”

“No—I wouldn’t want to ruin this breakfast you’ve made me. Describe it to me.” 

It’s an odd request, but nothing you can’t manage for him. You think back, letting your tongue conjure up the memory of the last time you had it. “Well, the blackberries aren’t tangy by the time they’ve been cooked,” you tell him. Steve hums, hand solid and steady on your upper back. “And this recipe is really sweet. The dough is kind of like sugar cookie dough.” 

“Sounds good,” he says appreciatively. “Hey, do you think you can smell it?” 

“From inside the fridge?” You take your head from his shoulder to give Steve an odd look. 

“Sure, just give it a try.” He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. You wrinkle your brow, sniffing tentatively. Steve opens his eyes as if to check you’re doing it, and it’s the worry in his look that gives him away. Your bemusement gives way to fondness as you take a long breath in, filling your lungs and holding the air inside you for a few moments before emptying them. You know what he’s doing, but you’re letting him anyway. 

“Mmm, don’t think I can,” you tell him wryly.  

“No?” Steve’s smile is sheepish, well aware you’re onto him. “Do you think we should find three things you can touch, just for fun?” 

You roll your eyes at him, but inhale again as you hug him tightly. Some of the pain in your chest eases. “Thanks, Stevie.” 

“What for?” he asks, hand resuming its route between your shoulder blades. “Hey listen, I’m all about your Christmas shopping idea, but do you wanna try taking a hot shower first? It might help you relax.” 

“That’s a good idea,” you admit, peeling away from him. He lets you this time, albeit reluctantly. “Your breakfast is going to get cold.”

Steve looks at it as though just remembering it’s there. “Right, thanks. Sit with me while I eat? You could have some of that tea you like.” 

You smile at him, taking a mug and your herbal tea down from the cabinet. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.” 

“You’ve got to stop thanking me, I haven’t done a thing all morning.”

[thir10th]

The getaway pt.1 - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

ALL OF THESE CAN BE READ AS STAND-ALONES

summary: you and Emily have been dating for several months now. When you finally get a free weekend, you decide to go on a little secret romantic getaway. tw: nothing yet, just fluff, a tiny bit of suggestive content but it's literally just a conversation, nothing else. secret relationship. a/n: you guys seemed to really like the idea so here it is! this first chapter so it's mostly to set the mood

Your leg shakes under the dinner table, waiting for Emily to finish up cooking dinner, her body swings around the kitchen, moving fluidly and confidently at the rhythm of the music she had chosen to play to set the abience.

You know she loves cooking, but you also know after getting home from a week-long case, this is the last thing she wants to do.

She always insists: "no baby, i'll cook, you can just sit there and look pretty, let me take care of it" and you loved her for that, but it hasn't been 12 hours yet since you had chased an unsub for three blocks.

She deserved a break. You both did. You had already decided that.

The pasta plate she sets in front of you with a big smile takes you out of your head, you smile back, it smells amazing, there's no doubt about it.

"I'm starving" she says, dropping on the seat in front of you, grabbing a fork and rolling up the spaghetti.

You move the pasta around, looking at her eat, trying to decide how to phrase it.

"what?" she asks mouth-fulled, noticing your stare.

"I wanted to ask you something" she leaves the fork, slurps up one last spaghetti hanging from her lips, and wipes her mouth with the napkin. Now you have her full attention.

"ugh, I'm... flattered, but-" she says in a sarcastic tone, but you cut her.

"relax, Em, I'm not asking you to marry me" she chuckles "i was thinking... you know how, if no case comes in tomorrow by five, we are having the whole weekend for ourselves, right?" you start.

"yeah, why?" she asks impatiently.

"well, I was talking to Penelope the other day, about how she had found this amazing hotel with Kevin, how they had had the best time, with activities for couples, good food, a big pool, you know, all that" she listens carefully at your words, without interrupting you, takes a sip of her wine, and nods, considering the idea.

"ok look" you grab your purse, taking a booklet you had printed out specifically for this conversation, hoping the images would convince her, you hand it to her so she can take a look.

She runs her eyes, scanning the photos on the booklet and reading over the information.

"it's been a long week, you deserve a break. We deserve a break" you conclude.

"Ooh- each room has a hot tub, and full time room service! and a steam room too?" she points out, looking at the pictures.

"And a balcony with views of the pool from every room! this could be it, Em, it's perfect for us." you add, after spending the whole trip back on the plane looking at their website, you had pretty much memorized it.

Emily angled her head to meet your eye. “If I have my way, you’ll be too occupied to appreciate the views.” the playfulness of her words making you smirk.

"So is that a yes?" you sigh in relief.

"Of course, sign me up!" a wide smile of excitement crosses her face, you let out a triumphant sound, shooting from your seat, walking up to her to grab her face and kiss her lips.

She grabs you by the waist and pulls you to sit onto her lap, your arms surround her neck, her grip tight on your hips to hold you in place.

"Oh, this is gonna be so nice! Think about it, no kids, all inclusive hotel for couples, no more hiding, nothing to worry about, just swim, and sex, and food" she grins at your words, her thumb traces slow circles on the skin left uncovered your shirt

"I could get used to that" she says kissing you again, this time longer, lovingly.

"honey?" she says, pulling away. "Yes?"

"You have already made the reservation, haven't you?" her profiling skills really never fail to amaze you.

"they had an excellent limited time offer, and i was pretty confident you were gonna say yes once I'd show you the booklet" you admit, and she chuckles, instead of getting upset, she just smiles at you and pecks your lips

"what have i done to deserve you?" she says, the dreamy sound of her words making you blush.

"well, dinner just now, and i believe i heard you say something about that balcony? with the views?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

She frowns at her computer, sitting on her desk, she has been staring at the screen for a considerable amount of time now, you quietly walk behind her.

"exciting, isn't it?" she doesn't hear you coming by, your words startle her making her jump in her seat

"you scared me" she mutters so no one can hear the conversation.

"sorry" you sit on her desk, right in front of her "i just thought if you're gonna spend the last fifteen minutes staring at the clock, we should do it together"

She tries to fight the smile that threatens to spread on her face, she bites her lip and gives you a loving look with her big doe eyes.

"you know, this room is full of profilers, if they saw you here in my desk only a couple of minutes far from five, they might suspect something is going on here"

"something like what? no one has even noticed i'm here, i seat on your desk everyday, nothing new" you say, her eyes leave the computer screen to look at you now.

"oh, i don't know, something like: we have been dating for three months and as soon as we leave this building we are driving two hours to spend our weekend on a hotel resort for couples?" she says sarcastically.

"i just thought it would be fun to watch when the clock strikes 5:00 together, you know, just like in new year's eve, but without the kissing for obvious reasons. Although there will be plenty of that this weekend" she bites her tongue at your words. Teasing Emily has always been so much fun for you, since it's usually the other way around that she teases you.

"the last thing i want you to remind me is how we are actively lying at the people we care most about" she argues, trying to keep her cool

"well, no need to worry about that anymore" you say, and when you both look at the screen, the clock has turned. 5:00 pm, no case has come in, we're free" you state. You stay there, sharing a moment, you stare at each other's eyes.

"god, but how i wish i could kiss you right now" she mutters breaking the silence, her eyes move down to look at your lips, and just for a moment you consider the possibility of sending it all to hell and kissing her senseless right then and there.

"y/n, any plans for the weekend?" Morgan's presence takes you by surprise, he comes behind you carrying is bag, so close, it had been so close, but you'd have to pull up with your coworker's teasing too.

"uhm, yeah, well, not much, no, just, a movie maybe, but who knows really?" you say, Emily tries hiding her grin, but fails.

"did you hear about Prentiss' weekend?" Morgan asks, you shoot a look at her

"ugh, no, big plans?" you say looking at her, lifting an eyebrow in faked confusion

"She, is going away with her girlfriend" he teases, a cocky smile on his lips.

"a girlfriend?! Prentiss! who is the lucky girl?" you say, a little louder than intended. She looks annoyed now that you're joining the teasing from you coworker.

"it's a secret, apparently" Morgan explains, Emily opens her mouth to speak, but only a defeated sound comes out.

"what? really?" you keep up the play, but she shoots you a look of warning, one eyebrow up, her arm on her hip.

"ok, you know what? I'm gonna leave now, you guys can speculate all you want" she takes her bag, and walks to the elevator, you and Derek follow her closely, she does her best to hide her smile.

"hey, I myself feel pretty offended that she won't tell us, after all we've been through, don't you think I deserve a little better?" he says, holding his hand to his chest, while you three wait for the elevator.

"Now, I'm having some ideas of what you deserve right now" the slightly threatening tone of her voice makes your heart throb. You just want to let her push you against that elevator door, let her do whatever she wants to you.

"you know what, I think I'm gonna keep it to myself, just this one time" she concludes, getting out of the elevator, Morgan whines, but she doesn't let it go.

"ok, this way for me" he says, turning right to go find his parking spot

"I'll walk with you" you tell Emily, the corners of your lips curving into a smile. You both say goodbye to Morgan, he leaves with one last "i hope you have a nice one, Prentiss!" and leaves.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Entering the room, you realize how more spacious and comfortable it is that you though, although you should've guessed, considering the fact that i could fit a hot tub on one corner, a full bathroom and the king-sized bed without making it feel narrow.

The hotel bellboy opens the room for you, hands you both of your keys, and leaves. Emily had already taken it upon herself to carry the bags, as they aren't all that heavy. Plus she loved doing those kinds of things for you, carrying your bags, the kind of things you would tease her about for being the chivalrous kid of girlfriend.

After all, you're only staying for a weekend, even if Emily didn't really understand that you don't actually need that many pairs of shoes for only just two nights total.

You look around everywhere, walk to the bathroom, the shower is perfectly big enough to fit you both, and two sinks. You check the hot tub, nd finish your tour by walking to the windows and opening the curtains.

The broad balcony has two chairs, and direct views to the pool, you're high enough to go completely unnoticed by anyone who looked up from it.

You drop to the big bed, star-fished out, meanwhile Emily leaves both your bags right next to the bed.

You sit up, standing to meet her as she looks around the room herself, appreciating the size of it.

"wow, this is almost bigger than my living room" she says, still surprised.

You walk up to her, grab her by the hips and pulling her to you "what do you think?" you ask, she surrounds your neck with her arms, and kisses you sweetly.

"mh, i love it" she purrs, a soft smile on her lips, and kisses you again, this time softer, longer, her lips soft and reassuring, making sure you knew how much she loved it.

"and I love you" she says, her hands running through your back now, "even if you just spent a considerable amount of time mocking me" she adds, and you chuckle.

"it was perfect, he doesn't suspect a thing!" you try to defend yourself, but she's already kissing your neck, finding your pulse point that she knows drives you crazy

"yeah but you didn't think i'd let you just get away with it just like that, mh?" she says, trapping your earlobe between her teeth and biting it softly.

"well, as much as you know i want this, we have to go down for dinner, because someone claimed she didn't need any directions to find the parking lot, and that took about, half an hour" you say teasingly, giving her a soft swat on her ass, unwrapping your arms off her waist to hold her hand.

Emily pouts at the loss of contact, interwining her fingers with yours "well, i found it didn't i? yes, it might have taken me a little longer than expected...."

"half an hour, Emily! We are gonna miss dinner, c'mon, and you can think about how to 'not let me get away with it' when we get back" you grab the room key, and pull her with you, walking out and heading to the elevator door.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

okkk what are we thinking? this was an introduction more than anything, just to set the story.

Feedback here would be greatly appreciated, specially because if you guys have any ideas on how i should continue, or any specific scenarios, i'd be happy to try to add it!!

Like & reblog as always, I'll be publishing the next chapters as i write them so stay tuned for that <33

[messylustt]

݁   𓂃 ៸៸៸ …and taste — rafe cameron + reader ( outer banks ) : after he finally gets to taste you he wishes you hadn’t run away. lucky for him a dinner is being held at the cameron’s.

contents : jealous!rafe. possessive!rafe. rafe being slightly obsessed with reader. virgin reader. slight innocence kink. unprotected sex. wc 3.9k.

pt one pt two

“come on, dear, we’re leaving now.” your mother’s voice rouses you from your book. your brows furrow as you eye her almost fancy dress.

“where are we going?” you ask, sitting up.

“to the cameron’s, i told you this.” she replies, turning to leave your room.

you freeze. what?

a few weeks ago you vaguely remember your parents mentioning a dinner. you didn't realise it was this soon. no. god. this was the worst timing.

your cheeks warm at the memory of rafe, and what he had done. you place your hands against your cheeks in an attempt to cool your face, as you quickly stand.

you couldn’t see him. you weren't prepared to see him this soon. what had happened in the kitchen was only two days ago. you didn’t know where you stood, and part of you didn’t want to. you thought you would have time to prepare a whole speech where you would point out how sarah would feel if her best friend and brother were getting it on.

or, part of you hoped, that rafe just…forgot, and saw you as another girl. and then the other part wished that you weren't just some girl. but that was certainly wishful thinking.

you quickly rummage through your clothes, your pyjamas not ideal for a dinner, as you hear your mum call for you downstairs.

arriving at the cameron’s made your heart thump against your chest. you’d never been nervous walking into this house, but then again rafe had never kissed you before now. what if he wasn’t home? again, wishful thinking.

you greet ward and rose with a smile, as sarah bolts down the stairs to give you a hug. you didn’t dare look around for rafe, as you let sarah bring you into the dining room.

“you're not gonna believe what happened yesterday!” sarah excitedly says to you, but your focus is annoyingly dragged to the boy walking in through the other entry. you immediately stiffen, as you stare at sarah. you won’t look at him if you don’t have to.

what you didn’t see was the way that rafe’s eyes found you immediately, staring at you with the same intensity that you're using on sarah.

he had also forgotten about this dinner, though his reaction to it was far different than yours. of course he was nervous, you hadn’t seen each other since that night. but his want to see you overrode most of his other feelings.

you were all soon taking a seat, not missing the way rafe found one directly opposite you. this way you’d have to look at him, even if by accident. you curse under your breath but maintain a smile, as you stare at the food on your plate.

chatter filled the room, as your parents and theirs talked about too many topics to keep up with. you kept your gaze on sarah, as she explained her adventures over the past few days. you’d always lived a kook life, so hearing how much fun the pogues got up to almost made you feel jealous.

as you place a forkful of food in your mouth you suddenly feel a brush against your foot. you choke, realising exactly who did that. you place your hand against your chest as your coughing gains the attention of the parents.

“you alright, sweetie?” rose asks.

you quickly nod, trying to smile, while hitting your chest. “yeah, i’m fine, thanks.”

you hear a faint snort as you whip your head to rafe for the first time that night. you shoot him a small glare, to which he only smirks in return.

“so, y/n, have any boys caught your attention?” ward asks you, as you break eye contact with rafe.

“uh,” you begin as rose cuts in.

“ward,” she scolds, before looking at me. “he just means that you’ve grown into a beautiful young lady, i’m sure boys have taken a liking.”

you smile, as you spare a fleeting glance to rafe. he’s watching you closely, as if he wants to know the answer just as much as rose and ward.

“well, there has been this boy.” your mum speaks up, as you shoot her a look. “what—toby seems like such a sweet boy.”

rafe was intently watching the conversation, though his bites began to grow a little more aggressive as the name toby left your mother’s lips.

‘sweet boy.’ he had to hold back a scoff. she didn’t see the way that kid eyed her daughter with a look that contradicted the word ‘sweet’.

of course he was very familiar with that look, that always seemed to be directed at you. the difference is that toby didn’t deserve to look at you like that, and in all honesty rafe probably didn’t either, but that didn’t seem to be enough motivation to look away.

he had touched you, kissed you, and tasted you. and god, did he want to continue. to get you into his bed whenever he saw fit, to see you laid across his sheets for him.

he bit into his fork, the metal scraping against his teeth as he eyed you across from him. you had only met his eyes once, and he planned to have you staring at him, and only him for the rest of the night…maybe somewhere more isolated.

“yeah, he’s nice.” you smile at the adults. you had said that to rafe when he had asked if you liked him. Which made rafe realise that toby was barely competition. that’s all you thought of him, and that made him grin.

“well, y/n, if that boy isn’t right for you, then just know that rafe, sarah and wheezie’s cousin is quite a catch.” ward laughs proudly.

you chuckle awkwardly. the last thing you wanted was to get in with this family where rafe could see you way more often.

you hear rafe clear his throat, earning the table’s attention. “did you know that johnny was caught robbing a store recently?” rafe speaks innocently as Ward’s expression falls. “plus i’m sure y/n wouldn’t exactly catch his eye.” rafe is leant back against his chair, his arms crossed.

you meet his gaze again with a scowl, while rafe tilts his head. “oh, i’m not sure i exactly want a cameron staring at me anyway.” you smile, as rafe’s eyes narrow.

“but imagine y/n a part of the family.” rose says with a thoughtful smile as she sips her cocktail.

rafe doesn’t shift his gaze from you as you eye up his silent challenge. “no cameron has caught my eye i’m afraid, besides sarah of course.” you shift your gaze to sarah who chuckles, giving you a nudge. “yeah,” she smiles. “y/n’s off limits.” she speaks playfully.

you glance back at rafe to see his gaze has hardened.

bullshit, rafe thinks. he has done more than just ‘catch your eye’.

he tongues his cheek as he watches you eat more of your food. the way your lips wrapped around the for—

he has to look away for a moment, remembering his and your family still sitting at the table. this dinner was going on forever, and his patience was wearing thin.

“alright, i need to tell y/n something, so we’re heading upstairs.” sarah says quickly, as she takes her last mouthful of food.

you're then dragged up and out of your seat, continuing up the stairs to sarah’s room. rafe watches you go, glaring at sarah’s grip on your arm.

sarah had shared the rest of her adventures with the pogues to you, as you both ended up laughing on her bed. it was late when sarah got called downstairs.

“feel free to take a shower.” sarah says to you, as she darts out the door.

you take up the offer, feeling sweaty from your previous mountains of nerves.

you're quick out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body, as your wet hair hits your cheeks. you had forgotten to grab some of sarah’s clothes to change into. you slipped out the bathroom door, cursing under your breath at your stupidity.

you walk into the hallway, the towel wrapped tight around your chest as you step quietly, not wanting to wake anyone who had decided to sleep.

then you felt a hand grab your upper arm, yanking you into a room. you gasp, your heart jumping as the door shuts. the room has dim lighting but you're quick to make out a sweatshirt on the bed that looks awfully familiar. too big for wheezie and not sarah’s style.

rafe’s.

shit. you spin to face the door as you catch sight of Rafe standing there, his eyes narrowed in a glare.

“off limits?” rafe reiterates sarah’s mock sentence. he steps forward as you slightly shuffle back, your hand gripping your towel with a force that’s making your knuckles turn white. rafe reaches out, hitting your chin up as he brushes your damp hair away from your cheek. “you're off limits, alright.” he whisper-hisses, making your body stiffen. “just not to me.”

you gulp as he grabs your neck, pulling you forward. his breath hits your face, successfully making it heat up. his large hand brushes your neck, nearly winding around your entire throat.

“rafe—”

he cuts you off. “you're off limits to people like toby, or johnny, or even sarah.” his tone is dark, almost threatening, but then his almost soft eyes contradict to a point that makes your head spin. “off limits to any guy who looks at you.”

“rafe, what are you doing?” you ask, drawing the towel higher. rafe catches this, his eyes shooting down to your covered chest. he gulps, staring at the remaining water droplets left on your skin, dotted around your collarbone. his breathing picks up as he meets your gaze again.

he then smiles, a little too innocently. “you lie a lot, did you know that?” rafe steps closer, making you shuffle back. he takes another large step as your thighs hit his bed. you curse yourself for backing up in this direction. “you lied about not liking a cameron.”

you shake your head. “i like sarah.”

“not how you like me.” rafe speaks cockily.

“you're far too proud for your own good, rafe.” you say, trying to stand straighter, showcasing some form of dominance in your losing situation. rafe just looks amused, which pisses you off more.

“we kissed once—” you begin, but rafe immediately cuts in.

“oh, we did more than just kiss.”

you shut your eyes, trying to forbid the memory to fill your brain. you feel rafe tilt your chin up, his warm breath hitting your nose. he then leans down to your ear, your eyes still shut, as if that will shut him out. “and i plan to more than just eat you out.” he whispers, before biting your earlobe.

you gasp, eyes shooting open as he pushes you onto the bed. he towers over you, resting his knee in between your legs, that you want to close desperately.

“rafe—”

“shh, pretty girl, i just want to make you feel good.” he breathes, his eyes devouring you hungrily. you still had the towel covering you, but you didn’t think that would last much longer. in response to your thought you bring it closer to your chest. rafe smirks, watching you try to hold onto your modesty.

cute, he thinks to himself.

his finger raises to tantalisingly skim across your skin right by the top of your towel. he then lets his hand drift down to the bottom of your towel. drawing it up your thigh as you try to close your legs, forgetting that his knee sits between. you clench around it, gasping as he moves his leg higher, bringing your towel up with it.

cold air hits your pussy making you shiver. rafe’s hand moves up your thigh. you try to move away on instinct, but rafe pushes his knee higher, his jean material rubbing along your clit. a whimper escapes you, and rafe’s eyes dart to yours, smiling. “oh, you like that?” he teases, his expression looking almost as desperate as yours.

“would you ever let toby touch you like this?” he asks, sweetly at first. but when you stay silent, he raises his hand to clench around your neck, tightening only a fraction. “no. you wouldn’t.” he hisses out. “say it.”

“rafe—”

“not my name. you have plenty of time to scream it. i want to hear you say who is allowed to touch you.” rafe demands, and you squirm under him, his jean-clad knee still pressed against you.

“n-no one.” you say, to which he shakes his head.

“wrong.” he leans down to bite your neck, making you jolt. “try again.”

“i’m not going to say you.” you try to stay defiant, knowing how wrong this is. you didn’t want to think of what sarah would say.

“no?” rafe chuckles mockingly. his bite then turns to a kiss, spreading them all across your jaw and cheek. He reaches your mouth, hovering. both of your chests are heaving against each other. “do you want to leave?”

your eyes continue to dart between his eyes and lips.

“i’ll tell ya what.” rafe begins, staying extremely close to your lips. “if you aren’t wet, i’ll let you leave. but if you are…well…” he smiles. your eyes are wide as you watch him. you lean further into the bed, his warm breath making your mind foggy. rafe follows your lips, grabbing your jaw and holding you still. “and there’s only one way to find out.”

rafe reaches down, abandoning your jaw to reach your pussy. his fingers hover over before one pushes inside you. you shut your eyes, your breathing turning erratic. you hear rafe groan in praise as he feels your dripping deception.

“oh god.” you mutter as you feel a second finger push in.

“well, would you look at that?” rafe taunts, now placing a kiss to your cheek as your back slightly arches against his fingers. “you're dripping.” he whisper-groans.

your breathing stutters as he continues to pull in and out.

rafe watches your expression as he fingers you, all self control slipping when a small noise escapes your mouth. he leans closer, pressing his lips against yours, wanting to swallow your sounds.

as he picks up the pace you're practically panting in his mouth as he laps at your tongue. his need for you is growing, as he tries not to grind on your leg, his position nearly straddling one of your thighs.

you draw close, your eyes nearly rolling, when he pulls away. you feel embarrassed by the sound of desperation that leaves you. but rafe is ecstatic to hear it.

“why did you?...” you pant, catching his gaze.

“‘cause i need to fucking taste more of you. i didn’t have time that night, before you ran off.” he grips your towel, your eyes widening as he rips it away, tossing it somewhere in his room. he pauses, staring at your naked tits, gulping. you try to cover up, but rafe is quick to grab your wrists, pinning them to the bed, and leaving you open for him. his breathing is heavy as takes your wrists into one hand, bringing the other to circle around your nipple.

you shiver, and he practically moans as he takes your entire breast in his hand, massaging it. he looks dazed as he watches his hand enjoy you.

he then leans down to your other breast, licking a circle over your nipple, making you gasp. he loved the way you couldn't swallow down the noises that left you, he wanted to hear more.

he fully took your nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking. you moaned, as both your nipples hardened against his rough tongue and hand.

he got more aggressive and desperate as he bit and sucked on your nipple, while circling the other with his finger. you're nearly writhing under him as pleasure shoots through you.

christ, you think to yourself.

“now you can’t run away from me.” rafe speaks against your skin, before raising his head to hover over your lips. “ever.” he kisses you with passion, as he presses himself further against you. you gasp into the kiss as you feel him hard against your hip. he groans as you shuffle against his cock. his grip tightens around your wrists, breaking the kiss.

“don’t do that unless you're actually going to do something about it.” he breathlessly speaks, his voice almost edging submission. you’d never heard him pleading. ever.

you kiss him, making him whimper as you shift again. rafe grabs your hips, trying to get you to stop, but you manage to move, swinging your leg around him.

he’s now lying under you, as you straddle him. rafe’s eyes are wide and blown out with lust. you reach for the buttons of his shirt, feeling it unfair that you're naked while he stays clothed.

rafe’s breathing stutters as your hand grazes his chest, pulling his shirt back. rafe raises on his elbows, helping you get the shirt over his shoulders, but as you pull it down rafe can’t resist and kisses you.

he’s wanted this for so long and here you are undressing him. he groans against your lips, nearly biting your tongue as he pushes into you. “rafe—” you try against his persistent mouth, as you fiddle with getting the shirt completely off.

“i just—” rafe cuts himself off as he harshly breathes. “you look so pretty trying to undress me.”

you lean back. “i don’t have to—”

but rafe cuts you short by hastily undoing his belt, pulling it out of the loops, all while he kisses your collarbone, multitasking extremely fast that it makes your head spin.

he grabs your hips pulling you harshly down into him, as you place your hands on his shoulders, gripping hard. his jeans are unbuttoned but not off, his shirt gone somewhere by your towel. he desperately moves your hips against him, making you both moan. the raw feeling of his jean material and cold metal of the button and zipper against your throbbing clit is making your breathing choppy. it’s nearly painful with how turned on you are.

“oh, fuck.” rafe’s eyes are rolling, his grip on your hips tightening to the point of bruising. he then grabs your jaw, resuming his dominant attitude. “tell me only i get to feel you.”

you open your mouth, panting from the grinding. rafe brings you closer to his lips, breathing past them. “tell me.”

you choke out. “only you.”

“can what?” he juts his hips up into you.

“f—feel me.” you gasp.

rafe smirks against your lips. “good girl.” he then flips you both, so that your back is against the bed again. he pulls his jeans and boxers off, before pulling you closer to him by your thighs. he leans down to your ear, keeping his grip on your thighs. “is this your first time?”

you shakily nod, catching as rafe’s eyes darken. “shit.” he breathes, kissing your jaw. “i’m gonna make you feel so…good…yeah?”

you nod in response, not trusting your words. rafe swirls his finger along your clit, making sure you're wet enough. “then let me hear your sweet voice, loud and clear.”

“but sarah—” you begin, only just remembering that she was in the house. was she wondering where you were?

“nobody is going to stop me from finally making you mine.” he darkly breathed. “i’ve always wanted to taste you, taint you, train you—” you choke a gasp as he wraps your legs around his hips. “i’m so glad i get to be your first...” he grins before kissing you. he pushes you further into the bed before widening your legs. he slowly pushes the tip past you. you stiffen at the foreign feeling, but rafe continues to place tender kisses to your cheek and jaw. he slowly pushes further in. the pain makes your brows furrow as your breathing shallows out. but rafe stays still until you’ve gotten used to his size. he watches as your forehead smooths out and pleasure takes over.

he begins to move, earning a whine from you. he growls as his eyes roll. he pulls in and out, picking up the pace to a continuous rhythm. he leans down to your ear, smirking. “...and your last.” he whispers possessively. you can’t link his words to his previous ones before he’s thrusting harder into you. you try to stay quiet, not wanting the family to know. god, were your parents still downstairs?

“come on, pretty girl, i like hearing you speak. even if it’s just incoherent moaning.”

in response you moan, as his pace picks up to one almost animalistic. “fuck.” He breathes.

both your highs are drawing close, as rafe nearly becomes a whimpering mess above you. he’s trying so hard to keep control of his dominance, but when it came to you all control flew out the window. he breathes your name against your lips before he kisses you, but the kiss soon turns into you both just groaning into each other. the crescendo of your orgasm is approaching as your grip on rafe’s neck and shoulders dig in, nearly breaking skin.

“rafe.” you whimper, keeping his lips to yours.

“that’s it.” rafe praises, feeling his own orgasm approaching. he uses his finger to draw circles on your clit making you choke a groan. god, did it feel good.

your orgasm crashes into you as your head tilts back. “god.” you moan. rafe pulls out, his own pleasure spilling over your stomach. he hadn’t meant to, but he just had to stay inside you until the last second.

“shit.” rafe heaved as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. you both panted as your highs drew to a close.

you don’t notice as rafe got up, to then come back with a fresh towel from his adjoining bathroom. you sit up on your elbows, still dazed and slightly lightheaded. rafe is quick to clean you up, before your reaching for your clothes.

but just as you're about to pull your shirt over your head, rafe reappears with grey sweatpants hanging around his hips, probably just having cleaned himself up. he catches you, quickly taking the shirt out of your grasp and throwing it back to the floor, as he grabs your cheeks and pulls you in for a kiss.

“rafe—” you try, but he just smiles in response, drawing you closer by your waist.

“and where are you going?” he prys.

“i left sarah. she’s probably wondering—”

rafe shakes his head. “no, no. you're with me now, and i plan to keep you for the rest of the night.”

you hold down a smile, as you get out of his hold reaching for the door handle, but rafe quickly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back. “i meant what i said. you're not running away.”

you shake your head with a slight chuckle. “i just feel bad—”

“you’ve spent plenty of time with sarah. you owe me time, now.” rafe cuts in, tilting your chin up. “and i’d love to see you trapped in my sheets.”

at this rate rafe’s arms were glued to you, and you didn’t think he'd ever let go.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[josephquinnswhore]

Salvaging old wounds - dave york x female reader

summary: you and Dave are thriving post-birth. but someone threatens to ruin your perfect life.

word count: 5.3k

content warning: age gap, stockholm syndrome, no prenatal care, home birth, bitter ex wife Carol keeps the kids from Dave, breaking and entering, conversation about reader being a missing person, murder, set up death ‘suicide’, abuse of power, sheriff Dave, mentions of mental illness. Use of pet name; honey.

tagging some peeps that commented on part one. @sunshineispunk @summer-wine111 @romanarose @axshadows @queeneamidala @cockykookiee

It’s sometime in the early hours of the spring morning, cold enough to tug on your knitted sweater, already awake in the kitchen, soothing your son with some quiet shushing sounds as you pack Dave’s lunch for work today as he showers in your ensuite down the hall.

Your finger flicks the coffee pot on, and searches through the cupboard for his favourite mug. A tacky hand drawn Father’s Day gift from Molly when she was younger.

A small smile creeps across your tired lips, seeing the inside of the cul stained from years of use. You’d washed it countless times over the past few months you’d been re-allocated to live in the house, but he insists that it makes the coffee taste better.

The light on the microwave reads 06:58. Like clockwork, as the pot comes to a boil.. entering the room right on cue, greeting you with a sleepy smile.

“Morning, honey,” he greets, voice still rough from sleep, his hair still wet from the shower.

He approaches you from behind and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He presses a soft kiss on your neck before nuzzling his head into your shoulder.

Although he could tell you were tired he admires that you’re still here in the kitchen, preparing his lunch and subduing your son from his quieting cries. “Good morning to you too. I’m just packing your lunch for work.”

Noting the weariness in your expression, concern etches in his eyes, and the grip on your waist.

“You’re exhausted.” Dave steps back, his hands still on your waist, and gently turns you around to face him. “Are you not sleeping well?”

“I had a few hours, we woke up to feed and change every two hours or so, but it’s expected with a newborn, right? And I’m coping. I’ll find some time today to rest.”

Dave nods, his expression softening. “Yeah, I know. But you don’t have to handle everything on your own, especially at your own expense. I can take him tonight so you can get some rest, okay?”

You lean your head into his shoulder, kissing the blue business shirt you’d ironed last night. “Thank you.”

He smiles faintly, his hand running gently through your hair. “Of course. I want you to rest and be happy, you know that.” He pulls back slightly, his gaze filled with love and gratitude. “Besides, I’ve been practicing my burping techniques.”

A tired laugh escapes you. “Yeah? It’s been a while for you hasn’t it?”

Even though Dave had two kids of his own from his marriage with carol—it had been nearly a decade since the girls needed burping, or feeding.

Dave chuckles, looking both sheepish and proud. “It has been a while. But I’m confident in my abilities.” Massaging your luscious hips with his thumbs. “How’s our little munchkin doing?”

“He’s good. Kind of in and out with sleeping. I searched it up and found it’s called active sleep.” Finally, you set an ice pack into his insulated lunch box with a fork and set it aside.

Dave tilts his head, a mix of curiosity and concern on his face. “Active sleep?” He raises an eyebrow. “As in, he’s moving around and making noise but still asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s normal apparently, I did some reading about it last night, because it was freaking me out.” You watch as he pours himself a coffee.

Dave takes a sip, then sets the ceramic mug against the counter, fingers still holding onto the small handle.

“Well, that’s good to know. As long as he’s not crying himself hoarse or anything, I suppose.” He glances at you, a playful grin on his face. “Are you doing more baby Google searches?”

“Not right this second no. But I’m certain something will come up,” you tell him in advance.

Dave laughs softly, placing a comforting hand on your cheek. "That's completely normal, honey. Being a parent is this mix of wonder and fear. But you're doing a great job. Our little guy is lucky to have you as his mom."

“He’s lucky to have you too. So are the girls you know..” A moment of silence. “I’m sorry she took them away from you.”

Dave's expression changes, his smile fading. A heavy sigh is all he can manage for a moment, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it was tough when it happened... still is, honestly.”

He pauses, looking at you with a mix of gratitude and sadness. “But having you here... you and our son, it makes it all feel a little less lonely, you know?"

Pushing yourself off of the countertop you’re leaning on and approaching him, kissing his cheek, the smell of his potent aftershave now clings to your skin. “They’re your girls, they love you.”

Dave leans his cheek into your kiss, appreciating your comforting gesture. "I hope so. I miss them every day." The heavy rise and fall of his chest is an attempt at gathering himself. He glances down at you, a hint of vulnerability in his dark eyes.

"But having you and this family we're nurturing... it helps. More than you know." He was glad you had adapted to this life, and seemed to revel in it.

Living up in the house with him rather than the basement. It was perfect, the way you leaned into domesticity and motherhood with arms wide open.

Dave glances down at his watch, reluctantly breaking the peaceful moment between you. "I should head to the precinct. Are you going to be okay on your own today?" Studying your face is a means to make sure you’re going to be alright.

“Of course. Joey and I will do a heap of fun things. And laundry.” You laugh humorlessly. Although you don’t mind the chores at all.

Dave can’t help but feel pleased to hear your response. “Alright.. don’t overwork yourself, the chores can always wait.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer so he can hold you tightly. He rests his chin on the top of your head, closing his eyes.

"I trust you." Dave whispers, a soft firmness to his voice. “You take care of our son, and I’ll be back real soon. We can spend the evening together as a family, whatever you want to do."

“I’ll have dinner prepared.” Leaning upward, you make the effort to instigate affection, fingers grazing the back of his damp hair.

Dave parts from your own lips hesitantly, wearing a content smile.

Reluctantly, he pulls away from you and your warm embrace, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment longer before dropping them to his sides.

He glances down his son, a soft smile playing on his lips. Leaning downward, a delicate finger reaches down to caress his chubby cheeks. “Be good for your momma," he utters in softly to his son.

Dave leans in to press his lips against your sons forehead, the small tuft of dark brown hair on his head were the same as his father. “I’ll see you tonight. I love you both.”

You return the sentiment and wave after him. “We love you, have a good day.”

The morning passes swiftly, with you engrossing yourself in domestic tasks. Piles of laundry need washing thanks to the sudden influx of baby clothes dumped into their own washing basket. Dirty dishes need washing and packing away.

All the while, the Joey still sleeps in his cot that you’d wheeled onto the wooden floors so you could watch him as you tidy up.

The house is quiet, the only sound coming from the soft whirring of the laundry machine as it spins to remove water, and the occasional rustle of Joey in his sleep.

When your son awakens, you tentatively pick him up and hold him to your chest with two cautious hands before sitting him down on the soft mat in the living room, a child-safe foam mat that is three inches thick to prevent him from injury.

Joey's eyes slowly open, adjusting to the bright light, searching for you. He looks around at his surroundings with innocent curiosity, his eyes still wide with that baby wonder.

Fixing his socks, you prepare him for tummy time, making sure he's comfortable. Joey wiggles, his limbs still uncoordinated and jerky, as he attempts to lift his head off the mat.

“You’re getting so good at this,” you coo in wonder.

Joey responds to the sound of your voice, turning his head in your direction with a look of recognition and delight.

His little arms push against the mat as he tries to raise himself up, but his movements are still clumsy and unbalanced. He let out a few soft, baby grunts, seemingly frustrated yet determined.

“Don’t grow up too fast, Joey. Your dad and I are still taking this all in.”

Before long Joey is whining and fussing over tummy time, and you decide to set up one of his musical playmats, with a half circular cover, soft animals dangling from the play equipment. Quiet nursery songs play a simple instrumental with flashing rainbow lights.

Joey's attention is drawn to the musical mat, his little brown eyes wide with fascination as he gazes at the movement and sounds. The music and the dangling animals capture his attention, and his grunts of frustration are replaced by noises of discovery.

He stretches out his tiny arms, trying to grab at the dangling toys, though his aim is still off target, tiny hands are swatting the animals and they swing back and forth.

The house phone rings, and you ignore it at Dave’s request.

But a woman’s voice comes through the speaker of the voicemail machine in real time.

“Dave. I have been calling non stop. Seriously, you’re refusing to contact me about money which I know you have. I need you to call me back or I’ll have to use the spare key to retrieve my personal documents from your house which will only make things worse for you in court.”

Dave had informed you about his ex-wife, how she was trying to make contact with him over child support for the girls. You had been instructed not to answer the phone or door at anytime, for any reason while he was gone.

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise to hear this, more like a bit of an annoying interruption to the sweet moment between you and your son.

The thought of her showing up to the house with your son, armed with a spare key and able to break into your home while Dave wasn’t hear made you feel sick. You look down at Joey, his attention still focused on the musical mat, unaware of how anxious you’re feeling.

“You have one new voicemail.”

As the voicemail machine plays the automated message as she ends the call, anxiously, you resort to chewing on your bottom lip.

You hesitate for a moment, looking down at Joey before deciding to do what you thought; was acceptable in regards to safety. Then, summoning your courage, you walk to the phone and dial Dave’s personal phone number.

And you’re pacing a little up and down the hallway as the shrill shrieking of the call trying to connect reverberates through your ear. He’d only been gone four hours or so, you hope he wouldn’t be upset.

Dave is busy with some administrative work at the precinct, thankfully sitting in his own office with the door shut, when his work phone rings. He glances at the number on his screen, recognising his very own landline.

A flicker of concern crosses his face, a little surprised that you're calling so soon, but doesn’t hesitate longer to answer the call. "Honey, what's wrong?" Dave asks, his voice laced with concern.

“Dave.. Carol just left a voicemail. She mentioned having a spare key to the house, said something about her showing up to let herself in.” The padding of your relentless pacing is noted on his end of the call.

He curses under his breath, the tension evident in his voice, even though the rustle of the phone he can hear your panic.

"Damn it." He mutters, a mixture of frustration and anger in his tone. Rubbing a hand over his face, trying to process the situation, but quickly comes to a solution.

"Okay, listen. I'll be home as soon as I can. Just don't answer the door for anyone, alright? And keep Joey safe."

“Okay, got it. I love you.” With a shaky exhale, you clutch onto the phone, watching your son play on his mat.

"Love you too, honey." A concerned sigh exits his lips. Dave ends the call and lets out a sigh, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His mind is racing, hoping that Carol wouldn’t show while he was gone.

He just knew he had to get home to you first. Before all his hard work and family are taken.

Setting the phone back down onto the hook, you take a hurried step toward the front door to lock it. But it’s too late, there’s a rattle of a key being put into the front door and unlocked.

Carol walks into the house as if it were here own, and stares at you for a moment, freezing when she recognises you, it takes a moment.. but you’re the girl on the news.. the missing girl.

Carol stands before you, her eyes narrowing as recognition gradually dawns on her. She takes in your appearance, the image of you from the media coverage suddenly clicking into place.

A mix of shock and confusion washes over her face.

"Y-you..." She utters in disbelief, her voice trembling. "You're... you're that missing girl..."

The realization hits her like a ton of bricks. She looks at you with uncertainty, her lips trembling as she struggles to process the situation.

"Oh my god... oh my god!" She repeats, her voice filled with fear and outrage. "You're here in Dave's house."

Carol takes a step towards you, her eyes wide and frantic. That could only mean one thing. "Come on sweetheart, let’s get you out of here!"

“I’m not going with you, stop it. This is my home, you cannot waltz into here and start making demands!” You shrug off her attempts to grab at you.

Carol doesn't anticipate your swift reaction, and her hand is abruptly shrugged away. She looks at you with surprise, her eyes wide and panicked. Taking a step backward, looking you over again with newfound fear.

"Sweetheart, listen to me-" She starts, the desperation evident in her voice.

“You’re vile.. coming into our home and trying to take me away from him after you left him with nothing! Your feeble attempt to take his son away won’t work! I love him, and I’m not going to ruin our family!”

Carol's eyes widen even further as she listens to your fierce defense of Dave. She hadn't expected this kind of loyalty, certainly not after what she knew.

She stands there for a moment, her chest rising and falling with rapid, shallow breaths as she tries to process. But her fear begins to turn into a different emotion, anger.

"You- you're brainwashed! Do you understand that? He kidnapped you!"

“Do not insult me. I need you to leave, now!” The loud shriek of your newborn son filled the air between you. “You’re upsetting my son.”

Carol's shoulders shake with frustration, despair seeping into her voice. "I’m upsetting your - what?! You don't even realize how twisted this all is."

She glances towards the crying in the background, the sound of your son's unrelenting wails adding fuel to the fire. "You think I'm going to walk away and leave you here like this? You're brainwashed, do you not see that?!"

“He told me you’d do this. You’re a pathetic excuse for a woman, you took the girls from him! What the hell is your issue with me and my son?”

Carol's cheeks flush with anger, her hands trembling at her sides. "You can't seriously believe what he's told you, do you?"

Her voice disbelieving. "He's manipulated you, honey! Can't you see it?"

The woman approaches you, hands outward as if you’re some savage animal. “If you want what’s best for your son.. you’ll run and not look back.”

You felt so much anger inside of you.. “Don’t you dare. Dave is a great father to our boy.”

Carol rolls her eyes exasperated, not believing a word you say. "He's a monster!" Her voice rises in anger. "How can you not see that? He took you from your family, held you prisoner and forced you to bear a child."

Carol glances towards the sound of the infant's cries in the background with disgust, a glance that doesn’t go unmissed by you.

“He did not force this child upon me!”

She stares at you, pleading. "You may think you love him, but he's manipulated you. It's called stockholm syndrome. You're not thinking clearly!"

With another moment, she pulls out her mobile phone, “if you won’t protect your son.. I will. This is for your own good.” Turning her back to you, she’s already dialling 911 on the keypad of her mobile phone.

It felt like things slowed to a standstill, hearing those three loud beeps on her screen of her dialling the number sent something instinctive off within you, to protect everything you had.

There’s no real decision made, just reaching for the nearest thing in your reach, the landline chord, as you tear it out of the wall, the phone clatters to the ground. In that fleeting moment, Carol's world abruptly crumbles.

She barely gets time to process what's happening before the chord from the landline is wrapped around her neck, the realization of your actions dawning on her are too late for her to save herself.

Carol gasps and struggles, her phone clattering to the ground as her hands fly to her neck, clawing desperately at the white chord, but you’re in a state of rage, protecting your son, and yourself.

Everything you’d built with Dave. That’s what was on the line.

Carol fights against you with every ounce of strength she has left as her breaths become short inhales, unable to deliver the oxygen her burning lungs are aching for, her body writhing and her legs twitching out in panic, her nails clawing at the chord around her neck.

But the power of your grip and the determination, she didn’t stand a chance, Carol fought with every fibre of her being, kicking and trying to grab at you. But it was too little too late. Before long the last panicked gasp escaped her lips, the life leaving her eyes.

Time seems to stand still. The air fills with the silence of a struggle, the tension leaving the space around you seems to thicken. Your chest heaves with victory, heart racing as you drop the chord from your hands.

Slowly, you rise to your feet, the weight of what you've done settling in. But your son's cries pull you back to the present, a reminder of that innocent life you've vowed to protect.

With shaking hands, you pick up your infant son, comforting him, hushing his cries as you hold him close.

With a softness that contradicts the violence you’re capable of, you cradle the infant close to your chest, settling him.

Dave comes barreling through the unlocked front door, his usual composure thrown to the wind at the thought of you being gone.. He takes in the sight before him, the reality of what he's seeing sinking in, and he decided it’s a better outcome than what he had worried about.

He closed the door behind him, locking it, approaching slowly, his eyes fixated on the body on the floor, the woman he once married. His face contorts in anger and relief all at once.

“What the hell…” Dave whispers under his breath, his voice betraying his stunned, curious surprise. “Honey?”

You come into view, cradling your son close to your chest. “Dave..”

Dave's eyes meet yours, drinking in the sight of you holding your son, and he knew that this was inevitable.

Slowly, his gaze moves down to Carol's body, then back to you, a mixture of concern and suspicion etched across his face. "Honey..." Dave repeats, his voice laced with a hint of confusion. "What happened?"

“She.. “ Your bottom lip trembles. “She said she knew me. And that you were a monster and if I knew what was good for me I’d take our son and flee.”

Dave's expression hardens, his jaw clenching in frustrated anger. “God damnit...she’s wrong, so goddamn wrong. I’m glad you have some sense in that head of yours. Our son belongs with us,” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief.

He doesn't move to investigate her cause of death yet, but can assume it probably has something to do with the phone chord on the floor right beside the body, dedicating his focus completely to you. "Did she touch you?”

“No, but said that if I wouldn’t protect our son from you, she would. I.. I caught her trying to call the police, but I.. I. I had to stop her before she could make the call.”

Dave swears under his breath, anger and frustration written all over his face. But he nods, “this is good, you did good, honey.”

His gaze falls on Carol's body, then back to you, a myriad of emotions playing out on his features. "Damn it... she just... she couldn't leave things well enough alone.”

He steps toward you, his voice soft, "It’s okay. I know. She forced your hand... it wasn’t your fault."

“She was trying to take our son away from us. Attempting to force my hand to abandon you. Our family.” Your son coos softly against your chest, tiny hands seeking comfort of your skin.

Dave's dark eyes search your own, his expression softening further as he tries to soothe your anxiety. He takes another step closer, his voice low and steady.

"Honey, that was never going to happen. No one's taking our son away from us. No one. You did what you had to do."

Dave reaches out tentatively, placing a gentle hand on your arm, as if testing the waters, a gripe of fear settles inside of him that this may have set you back to where you started twelve months ago when he brought you here. "You defended our family. That's all it was."

“I love you.. but what are we going to do about this?” Your hand gestures to the dead body in your hallway.

Dave looks down at Carol, his expression hardening once more. "We're gonna deal with it." His eyes flicker back to you, his hand still on your arm. Dave's voice is firm, but gentle.

"Trust me. I'll handle everything. For now, just take care of our boy, alright? Leave this all to me.” His large hand takes up the entire length of your baby’s back. “I need you to do me a favour, okay?”

You nod compliantly, listening. “Anything you want.”

Dave meets your gaze, his expression serious and focused.

"I need you to trust me. She recognised you, honey. You need to change your appearance, cut your hair.. colour it. I’ll buy some contacts for you. So that way we don’t have to be a secret anymore. No one would recognise the old you.”

“I’ll do it.” Dave's lips twitch into a faint smile. He appreciates your willingness to comply, no argument, just trust and commitment.

“Good.” Dave says, his voice quieter now. He takes your hand, his grip devoted to comforting you.

“It’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to us, to our son. Trust me.”

Later that evening you hack carefully at your hair, and colour it. You hardly recognise the face of the girl that had gone missing. Because she was gone. “How did Joey go down?”

Dave watches you affectionately from the doorway in the bathroom as you hack away at your hair. “Effortlessly.” He murmurs.

“How do I look?” The transformation of your physical appearance is gradual yet significant. When you step away from the mirror and approach him, revealing the new you, he can’t help but smile.

“I can hardly recognise you,” he says, his voice soft. “You look... different.

Dave steps closer, his gaze roaming over your new look as he takes it in. He reaches up, running a hand through your hair, fingers caressing the strands. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” a slight warmth rushes up your neck and ears at his complimentary praise.

Dave moves closer, standing a few inches from you. His hand tangled in your hair, he pulls you against him. Strong arms wrap around you, his hand resting in the small of your back, holding you flush against his chest.

Dave leans forward, tilting your chin up so that your eyes meet. There’s a deep tenderness in his gaze as he speaks, “I never want to lose you, you know that?”

“You won’t,” you promise. “Never. Neither Joey or me.”

Dave sighs, his relief evident. He leans his forehead against yours, drinking in the moment of comfort. The weight of the situation lifts from his shoulders for a brief moment.

“Good. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you...”

Pulling backward to look down at you, his thumb gently caresses your cheek. He searches your eyes, before suddenly he places a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead.

His hand rests on the small of your back as he guides you to your bed with a gentleness that belies his strength. “You won’t ever need to know.” The promise sends a thrill of affection up his spine at your devout promise.

Once there, Dave lays down, pulling you onto the bed with him, manoeuvring the duvet so that he could tuck you in.

He wraps his arm around you, his body cradling yours, holding you tight against him. “I know...” He whispers, his voice a low, comforting rumble against your ear.

Dave warned you that in the coming days there would be someone coming to knock on their door about carols death, to leave it to him.

Three days after her death, they arrive.

Two of his officers greet him as he swings the door open. “Dave. We dropped by to have a chat, hoping that now is a good time.”

He eyes his men, nodding, fooling them with a deep gaze of concern. “Of course, what’s going on?”

“It’s Carol.. we got a call for a welfare check and she.. I’m sorry, sir. But she’s dead.”

Dave stutters, and his men express their sympathy. “How did she..”

“Suicide. Left a note and found her hanging from the ceiling fan.” One of his men turned to the police car they’d arrived in. “We don’t think the girls saw anything, but we recommend sending them to see someone anyway.”

Dave knew how it worked, they had to offer grief counselling as apart of the process.

“She struggled with her mental health for years but I never thought it would come to this,” Dave utters in disbelief.

They see you holding your son and wave to you. “Good morning ma’am.”

You smile and wave. “Good morning officers.”

They don’t recognise you.

“We didn’t know you had a son,” an officer commented.

Dave smiles proudly at his son. “I’ve been trying to keep my life as private as possible since the divorce.”

“Well, congratulations, sir.”

“What about my girls?” Dave asked, voice remains steady and composed as he plays his part, playing the role of the grieving ex-husband. He truly was concerned about his girls, though. They were so young, but with the family Dave had orchestrated, he knew they’d be down.

“We’ve got your girls in the back of the car, I’ll go get them.”

The sight of his daughters after twelve months since the initial divorce makes his resolve truly crumble, how much they had grown.

“Alice! Molly!” Dave's heart aches as he holds his two daughters in his arms, their presence filling him with intense emotion and relief. He had grown used to the pain of their absence in his life, the separation a constant weight on his shoulders.

But with them in his arms, the pain he had so valiantly endured crumbles. His eyes brimming with tears as he weeps gently into their shoulders, fingers clutching into their backs softly.

“We’ll.. give you some time to process all of this. I’m sorry again for your loss, Dave.”

Dave's grip tightens around his daughters, as if afraid to let them go again. He holds them close, a mix of grief and relief coursing through him.

“Thank you. Thank you for bringing them back to me.” He mutters to the men, not for delivering the news, but for returning his daughters home.

Dave watches as the officers leave, their departure marking the end of having to play the role of the devastated ex husband. Once they're gone, he turns back to his daughters.

“I've missed you both so much…” He says, voice choked up with emotion.

“We missed you too!” His girls cherp into his shoulder. Molly, the older daughter of the two looks past her dad and sees you, holding a small baby in blue clothing. “Who is that?”

Dave looks over at you, a hint of pride and affection in his expression. He then follows Molly’s gaze, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"That... that's Joey," Dave inquires softly, his voice filled with tenderness as he glances between his daughters and his infant son. He stands up, his hand still resting on his shoulders, gesturing for them to follow him.

"He’s your little brother.”

You slowly approach the girls holding your son in hand. “Hi girls, my name is rose. I’m Joey's mummy.”

“Like the flower?” Alice says.

The alias rolls off your tongue as you introduce yourself, the name Rose sounding unfamiliar and foreign to your ears, but it was necessary to move on with your new life.

Alice's comment, however, brings a slight smile to your face. "Yes, like the flower." You confirm, your voice soft and gentle. “Do you want to meet your baby brother?”

The girls' eyes light up with excitement as you offer for them to meet their new baby brother. They look up at Dave for confirmation, before turning back to you with eager nods. "Yes, please!" Molly says, her voice brimming with anticipation.

“His name is Joseph David York. But your dad and I call him little Joey.” Dave grins at the mention of his son's name, pride evident in his gaze. He steps closer as you speak.

“He looks like you, dad!” Molly comments. Your son did have Dave’s dark brown eyes—and the subtle curve of his nose. The infant was practically a carbon copy, your genetics failing on this conception.

"That's right. Joey does, doesn’t he?" Dave nods, his voice filled with affection.

Dave watches as his daughters take to the little baby, their hearts instantly won over by the sight of their young brother. The sounds of their admiration fill the air, soft and innocent.

His gaze falls on you, meeting your eyes with gratitude and relief. In that moment, everything seems to fall into place, a sense of peace and happiness washing over him.

Dave takes in the sight of his two daughters playing and cooing at Joey, their faces lit up with joy and affection. Beside them stands you, the woman he loves more than anything.

He feels a surge of contentment and gratitude, his heart swelling with the weight of it all. Dave's eyes meet yours, his expression filled with love and thankfulness.

Dave has achieved all he ever dreamed of and so much more, and he knew he couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. He wonders what your daughter would look like.

One day, he’d find out.

[23fallencomets]

[this update will now set the timeline for the au]

[also in honor of logan getting p13]

logansargeant made a new post!

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logansargeant: okay but 💙🤍

williamsracing: glad to have you here 💞

alex_albon: you passed by the garage already?

logansargeant: nope, i’m on my way rn

frederikvestioffical: come see me??

arthurleclerc: me too, loser

oscarpiastri: you chose alex over lando and i???

logansargeant: i’m at the mclaren garage at every race i attend 🤨

liamlawson: all those races and you haven’t spent a single one at redbull

logansargeant: invite me properly then pretty boy

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logansargeant: it’s my post???

user28: oscar once again getting jealous of logan and liam

user29: fork found in kitchen, what’s new

oscarpiastri posted a new story!

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user30:

not oscar posting a story of him and logan on a date

user31: especially after being called out in logan’s comments section

user32: oscar pls stand up he’s just an american model boy

user33: yeah but have you ever considered logan is oscar’s american model boy

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Now Playing: All-American by Olivia Rodrigo

user34: oh my god he’s seen the edits

user35: logan is never beating the all american white boy allegations 😭

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logansargeant: Had an amazing weekend in Monaco and was able to see two of my best friends absolutely dominate this iconic race!! Again, thank you Williams Racing for hosting me today and congrats on getting points!! And of course congratulations to Charles for winning the Grand Prix!!

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[immeasurablesaladagere]

A Wildcard is Active - Team Self-Sufficient

Series - A Wildcard is Active

-----

Words: 4973

Summery: By a stroke of bad luck, both Gem and Joel end up as children and are determined not to let anyone know. There are reds about, it’s not safe for them to be alone without an adult to protect them. When they run into trouble in a cave, they're forced to ask the Bamboozlers for help.

-----

On the first morning of the fourth session, Joel allowed himself to stay in bed just a bit longer and take in the snail-less peace and quiet. No more running about constantly looking over his shoulder for deadly flying mollusks, just a nice easy doze in the Charger, living the life.

Gem was already up and about, cooking breakfast by the smell of it. Somehow session three had been a breeze for her and now she was going around being all productive. Showoff. 

“Joel! Breakfast is ready!”

As much as he wanted to roll over and doze for another thirty minutes, the start of the session would wait for no man. They only had a short time before the next wildcard activated for the week and they needed to pound back as many calories as possible if they wanted to keep up with whatever craziness Grian had in store this time.

So out of bed and into their makeshift kitchen he went, rubbing the sleep crusties out of his eyes. “Quit yer yelling, what if I’d been sleepin’ still?”

“Then you needed to get up anyway. Wildcard rolls in an hour, up and ‘attem!” Gem said with the chipperness of someone who hadn’t spent the last week fearing for her life, and slid two plates of eggs, toast, and bacon onto the table.

“Yeah, yeah. Easy for you to say, you dirty snail-lover.”

“Hey! Who made you breakfast?”

“You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry.” Joel shovelled a forkful of bacon into his mouth and groaned. “S’really good.”

Gem chuckled. “Well don’t make it weird! Maybe I shouldn’t be cooking for you.”

“No, please, I’ll be eating nothing but bread all season.” He whined. “Seriously, this is great, thanks Gem.”

“Well of course! We’re going to need the energy!” She finished her glass of milk in one go and got up to start putting her dishes away because holy moly, she ate fast. “What’s on the to-do list for today?”

There were about a million answers to that question, seeing as no one got anything done last week. Diamonds, finish the base, make traps, go to the nether; but of course what they’d like to do didn’t matter so much as what they could do once the wildcard hit. “Dunno. Some mining, maybe hit the nether if Grian hasn’t rigged it to explode or sumfing. I need redstone and gunpowder.”

“Ooo, yeah, the nether sounds good. I don’t know if they’ve found the fortress yet, so maybe there’s still some potion stuff left.” 

The moment the last piece of toast was in his mouth Gem was snatching his plate out from under him and dumping it in the sink.

“Oi!”

She stuck her tongue out at him. 

Well, might as well get started on the list. “If gonna try to finish the base while nofing’s going on, head’s up for falling deepslate in here!”

“If you get rock dust in my kitchen I’ll put you on yellow!” She called after him.

The base was coming along nicely, it just needed a few finishing touches. Trim here and there, polish the windows, sand off a few edges. He grabbed his tools from the starter base and climbed up onto the hood of the car. Maybe he could even finish before the session started.

-

“Joel! Wildcard!”

He could not. Joel sighed and set down his tools as the colourful ellipses appeared in his vision and Gem came outside. They had to be prepared for anything, and it was much safer to find out the gimmick together. They both braced for the worst. Floor is lava? Levitation? Permanent nighttime? More snails?

A Wildcard is Active.

The two of them did a hasty once-over of themselves. 

“Hearts and hunger are the same,” Gem reported.

“No effects, and you’re not dying right now so no floor-is-lava. Darn, I was hoping for that one.” He didn’t feel any different, and nothing around them seemed immediately strange. It was almost more unsetting that he couldn’t pinpoint the twist right away. 

“You were hoping I would die?”

“No, no, but you know what I mean. I was so sure that’d be one of them!” He patted himself down. “I don’t feel weird. Do I look weird?”

“More than normal? No.” She smirked.

“Wow, rude!”

He was about to accept that maybe Grian had miraculously decided to do something low-key this session. Maybe it was nether-based or mob-based and wouldn’t be nearly as big a deal as the murder snails and the hunger. Sure, it would put a mild spanner in the works but they would live. But then he felt it. His entire body suddenly felt… buzzy. Like pins and needles all over.

“Um, actually… Maybe I do feel a bit weird…” 

Gem shifted from foot to foot, rubbing a hand up and down her arms. “You feel it too? What is that?” Her eyes widened. “Oh my— Joel, you’re smoking!”

“I know that Gem, but I’m married so—“ Oh. Sure enough, his arms were giving off a faint purple mist, and now that he noticed it, so was Gem. “Woah, you’re smoking too! What on earth is this? Gah, I hate this feeling!”

In seconds the smoke went from tiny wisps to thick fog that surrounded him completely, and he could just barely make out Gem disappearing behind her own cloud as the smoke consumed him and everything went dark.

Then a moment later he was back again, lying face down on the car and tingly all over. He groaned. Was it weakness? Why did he feel like he was just tossed around by a ravager? He went to sit up and was rocked by a wave of dizziness. “Ugh, oh dear…” He mumbled, and then slowly his words caught up to his spinny brain. 

Something was wrong with his voice. It was higher, and weirder. 

“Joel!?” Came a squeaky cry from the ground, one that sounded eerily familiar. 

He shuffled forward to the edge of the base and oh, that was a long way down. Standing in a fun-size suit of armour and using a sword much too big for her to prop herself up was Gem. Tiny Gem. She looked no older than seven, maybe eight at the absolute most.

“Gem! What’s happened to you?” He called down, and yeah, his voice was definitely wrong. 

“Me? What about you? You’re teeny!”

He took a proper look at himself and his new tiny body, squishy arms, and stubby hands. Oh, this was terrible. 

“Are we all kids? Is that the twist!? That’s horrible!” How were they supposed to survive like this!?

Gem fumbled to pull out her spyglass and looked across the field to their neighbours. “No, not everyone! Tango’s still big over there, but Etho and Bdubs are little!”

“So only some of us? And we both get made into stupid toddlers? That’s not fair!” He pouted.

Their communicators were suddenly flooded with messages, mostly panicked gibberish from everyone who had been baby-fied and gushing from everyone who hadn’t. From the looks of it every group had at least one normal adult; between Scott, Cleo, Pearl, and Impulse there were three, except for them.

“This is bad, right?” Gem asked nervously, “There’s yellows and reds and if they know we don’t have someone protecting us… what if they kill us?” Joel hadn’t even thought of that. “Come down from there, we gotta find a place to hide!”

He went to climb down, but stopped when he saw the steep drop down the windshield to the ground. Suddenly his stomach was twisting into knots and he couldn’t bring himself to slide down. “Uh…”

“What’s wrong?” Gem asked with a look of growing worry, “Are you… scared?”

Joel’s ears burned. “N-no! Just, um…” So it was messing with their heads as well.

Gem seemed to understand, and careful to stay out of sight from their nosy neighbours, she crept around to the front of the car and built up a few blocks. When she got close enough, she held out her arms for him to slide into. “I’ll catch you.”

Absolutely not. He would rather die right then and there. “I don’t need your help!” 

Gem rolled her eyes. “Sure you don’t, now come on! Before someone sees us!” She hissed.

Without much of a choice, Joel took a deep breath and pushed himself down the hood of the car with a squeak and landed safely in Gem’s arms. Once he was safely back on solid ground, she immediately began to manhandle him.

“C’mon, c’mon!” She dragged him by the hand to their starter base and to his dismay, she was indeed much taller than he was, and she was able to pull him like he was a bundle of feathers. “Grab as much food and stuff as you can.” She said, and began rifling through their chests.

“Wha— okay, where’re we going?” The chests were so hugehe almost couldn’t reach into the bottom and he had to stand on his tip-toes to reach a pile of bread.

“We’re gonna hide underground. No one’s gonna wanna come look for us down there.” Gem said, like she’d thought the whole thing through already. She dropped a stack of torches and loose coal into her inventory.

“For all week? That’s a long time.” He pointed out.

“Yeah, I know, that’s why we’re getting all this stuff. We can come back up for food if we really gotta, but we can’t let anyone know that we’re both kids. That’d be super bad.”

Joel snickered. “You’re talkin’ funny.”

She scoffed, offended. “Am not! And don’t be mean to your elders!”

“You are not my elder! Look at you!”

“Uh-huh, and what does that make you? Look how small you are compared to me! You’re just a baby!” She teased, ruffling his hair.

“Oi, you—“

“—Gem? Joel? Are you here?”

They froze. Bdubs. And where there was Bdubs, there was Tango, and Tango was red. Gem hurried them to the wall and dug into it, boxing them in. They both held their breaths as multiple sets of feet walked around their base.

“Awe, they’re not here.” Bdubs.

“Do you think they’re kids, too?” Etho.

“Oh, I wanna see kid-Joel so bad! I bet he’d be real tiny.”

“C’mon Dubs, let’s go find the others.”

The footsteps walked away, and they both let out a sigh of relief.

“Let’s dig down.” Gem whispered. She lit a torch and the little box they were crammed in filled with light, which he liked a lot more than the dark. Joel tried his best to stay out of her way as she began to dig a tunnel down, and he was put on torch-duty, keeping it lit all the way down.

After what felt like forever, they finally hit a cave. It was really dark, which was both good and bad. Good because it meant no one had been there yet, and bad because Joel was very quickly learning his little kid brain didn’t like the dark very much.

“I don’t hear any monsters.” Gem said, peering into the hole, “Gimme the torches.” She took one more look around, then scooted down from their safe ledge into the cave. The torch in her hand lit up the walls around them just enough for him to see just how much further the cave went. It was already huge, but it seemed even huger because they were so small. The empty void made his stomach feel fluttery. He took out his sword and gripped it tight.

“Put the torches down, Gem! So the mobs don’t spawn!” He said urgently. Gem turned around and raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re really jumpy, huh?” She smiled.

“I-I’m not! We just have to be careful. What— w-what if mobs do more damage ‘cause we’re tiny? Didjya ever think of that, Ms. Not— uh, Afraid?”

It was meant to be a jab but she just started giggling. “This is adorable. You look so pouty!” 

She was so busy laughing at his expense she didn’t notice the creeper emerging from the darkness and scuttling towards her.

“Gem, watch out!” 

She whirled around just in time to pull up her shield before the creeper blew up in her face and sent her staggering back into the wall. 

“Are you okay!?” He called, timidly crouching over the ledge. 

Gem chuckled nervously, brushing off some of the stone bits that got on her clothes and hair. “Yep, all good! Maybe the torches are a good idea…”

As Gem placed down torches he cautiously climbed down into the cave, keeping a sweaty hold on the handle of his shield. He hated just how blummin’ nervous he felt. He shouldn’t have cared if it was dark or if there might be monsters lurking around the corner, but suddenly the thought of leaving the light and Gem’s side was the worst thing ever. Stupid kid brain, stupid kid body. 

“Okay! We’re okay, we’re fine.” She chirped, “We’ve got torches, an’ our swords and shields, we’ll be fine.” It sounded like she was trying to tell herself that just as much as she was telling him, which strangely did make him feel better. At least we wasn’t the only scaredy-cat, even if Gem was better at hiding it than him. “Let’s go find some iron. We might even be deep enough to find diamonds!”

Right. Diamonds, iron, focus on that. “We’re gonna be so rich, Gem. All those silly fools up there are gonna be freakin’ out about being stupid babies and we’re gonna have full diamond!”

“There, that’s the spirit. Do you— um...” She offered her hand to him with a small smile. “You can be our shield, and I’ll protect us with the sword. How’s that sound?”

Joel scowled at her hand and reluctantly, to the death of his pride, took it. This was the worst day. He was going to have a talk with Grian when this was all over. The jerk was probably an adult as well, knowing him and the stupid universe. “Fine. But only for teamwork.”

“Teamwork.” Gem agreed, and they descended into the darkness.

-

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Gem asked, throwing a few more loose pieces of wood into their little campfire.

It wasn’t. Sure, the dark still wasn’t very nice and they hadn’t had much luck with diamonds, but their trek through the cave got them a lot of iron, nearly a stack between them. “I wasn’t worried. I knew we were gonna be fine the whole time.” 

“Uh-huh. And when you screamed like a girl ‘cause you saw a spider you were totally gonna take it down, right?”

He nodded, dumping as much raw iron as he could fit into the furnace. “Yep, you just got their first. Silly Gem, stealin’ my kills.”

Even though he’d been trying not to think about it, he appreciated what Gem was doing. Both of their minds were being affected by the wildcard, but it was embarrassingly obvious that he had it worse, probably because he seemed to be the ‘younger’ of the two of them. And all the while dealing with her own nervousness and keeping them safe, she was talking to him like a normal person and keeping him steady. The good-natured ribbing kept everything feeling light when the scary cave sounds started to get to him, and she wasn’t being overbearing or babying him. It was almost like session one again; a normal day, just ever so slightly shorter than two blocks tall.

“Here, pork chop’s ready.” Gem passed him a stick with a cut of cooked pork chop skewered on it. Even without any seasonings, it smelled delicious.

“Fanks, Gem.” He devoured the whole thing in a few large bites, much to Gem’s disgust. One of the few upsides to being so small was that they were going through much less food than usual, and one pork chop was all he needed to feel properly full again. 

“So,” He burped, “We’re really gonna stay down here all week?”

Gem nodded and started making something on the crafting table. “Thas’ the plan.”

“Aw, but that’s a bit boring, isn’t it? I wanna have some fun too…” He kicked a little stone away and the clacking echoed off the walls.

“Do you wanna have fun, or do you wanna stay alive?”

How could she be so tiny and still act like such a mum? “Stay alive, I guess.” He pouted.

She turned around and laid a thin wool sleeping bag on the floor with the tiniest pillow Joel had ever seen. “That’s what I thought. I’ll take first watch. I didn’t bring enough wool, so sorry it’s not very good...” 

There was no way he could be upset about the sleeping bag, not when she was making that face. If they were on the surface Joel was sure Gem could get them whatever they wanted just by giving someone puppy eyes. “No, no, it’s fine! It looks super comfy. In fact,” He crawled over to it and nestled inside to show her. Stones dug into his back. “See? I could fall asleep right now.” He made an exaggerated yawn.

Gem chuckled. “I ‘precicate it, but you don’t hav’ta lie. Your pudgy little face doesn’t hide anything.”

“Going to sleep now!” He yelled, turning over and pressing his face into the pillow. “Honk-shoo, honk-shoo, see? Sleeping.”

“Have a good sleep, Joel.”

-

“Joel, get up, get up, come on!”

Joel barely had time to remember where he was before he was on his feet and they were running. His half-asleep legs stumbled to catch up and Gem was half-dragging him, and between his bleary eyes and the unlit cave he could barely see where they were going.

“Gem, what on earth— what’s going on!? What are we runni—“ Two arrows whizzed past his head much too close for comfort, and that woke him up.

“There were so many, I—I couldn’t kill them all!” Gem exclaimed. They took a hard left at a fork and two more zombies joined the chase from the right. There were at least six mobs behind them, probably more. There was no time to pull out their shields, they’d surely be overwhelmed instantly, which meant they’d just have to find a place to hide.

“Gem this is bad, this is so bad!”

Gem cried out as an arrow lodged itself in her shoulder, and then another. “I-I know, I know, keep running!”

They rounded another corner and skidded to a halt. Dead end. Joel raised his shield to catch another arrow but the mobs were getting close fast. They were dead. 

He yelped as Gem grabbed him by the scruff and pushed him into a corner. “Ow! Gem, what—?” She began haphazardly surrounding him in cobblestone, and Joel’s stomach sank. “Wait, G-Gem, what are you— what are you doing?”

“I’m low, my shield’s almost gone,” She panted, and her splitting shield took another hit, this time from the zombie at the head of the pack gnawing viciously at the wood. “Stay in here, I’ll come back for you, okay?”

“Gem, no!” His heart was pounding. He could only see a sliver of Gem’s scared but resigned expression through the gap now. More zombies caught up, groaning and forcing her back. “Gem—!”

The last block slid into place and he was plunged into darkness just as the message rang out.

Geminitay was slain by a zombie

-

This wildcard is a nightmare.

Jimmy watched, exhausted, as Lizzie tried to coach Scar up a tree for the third time. While a good “parent” might have stopped it by now, falling out of a tree was about the safest thing they had been up to over the last twenty-four hours. If all he had to do was pass out snacks for regen every time Scar fell, that was fine by him.

He truly believed Grian’s games simply hated him personally. Why else would he be the only adult in his team? The yellow life, the canary, the one who attracted death, keeping two children safe. What was the universe thinking? And of course in all the nonsense he hardly had any time to think about how he was going to get his next kill. Lizzie had been trying to help, but most of her ideas ended up drifting in a fantastical or hypothetical Jimmy-is-suddenly-amazing-at-pvp scenario and hadn’t come to fruition. 

“Jimmy, look! I made it!” 

Sure enough, Scar had finally managed to clamber up next to Lizzie on the branch, smiling proudly down at him.

“Wow, look at that! Don’t fall please, I’m running out of bread!”

“I won’t, I’m being very careful.” Scar waved him off, then wobbled and caught himself. “See? Careful.”

“Mm-hm.”

Bzz-bzzt.

Oh? What’s gone on now? He pulled out his communicator.

Geminitay was slain by a zombie

<Smajor1995: ???>

<Grian: red/yellow kill??>

<BDoubleO100: gem’s baby I kno it>

Huh. Gem and Joel had been missing for the entire session so far, and for her to die to a zombie of all things, she must have been seriously caught off-guard. Or small, came the thought, but even then Joel probably would have been looking after her, what with his whole “family” bit. Was he seriously being a better parent than Joel right now? He smiled to himself. What an idea.

And so, continuing his streak of great parenting, he went back to supervising. 

“Wo-OAH!”

And down Scar went, taking Lizzie with him and hitting the ground with a thump. 

“Owwww, Scaaar! That hurt!” Lizzie whined.

“Sorry, sorry! I was tryin’a get higher!”

Jimmy just sighed and fished two more loaves of bread from his inventory. “Come on now, no arguing, just take your bread.”

Thankfully even though Lizzie and Scar had proven themselves to be quite the tiny squabblers so far, the snacks seemed to settle them enough to just sticking their tongues out at one another and throwing crumbs. It was in the middle of their picnic when he heard someone yelling his name, and he turned to see Gem running towards him. Sure enough, she was a kid maybe the same age as Lizzie, and she looked all out of sorts.

“Gem! Where’ve you been, eh? What’s going on?”

“Y-You gotta— you—“ She gasped, out of breath and stumbling over her words, “You— we need help!”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “What? Slow down, who’s ‘we’? You and Joel?”

Gem nodded quickly. “We— we were in a cave and I was s’posed to protect him b-but I couldn’t an’ there w-were so many mobs an’—!“

“Hey, hey, woah, easy.” He knelt down in front of her and put his hands on her small shoulders. This was still so weird. “Deep breaths, ready? In…” She took a harsh breath in. “Out.” She released it. “Now, tell me what’s happened.”

Gem swallowed hard and Jimmy swore he could see the faintest hint of tears forming in her eyes. “Me and Joel are b-both kids, a-and I said we should hide ‘cause we had no adult to protect us so we went into a cave. I-It was my idea an’ I was s’posed to keep him safe, b-but there were so many mobs and—and I di-died and now Joel’s trapped down there and it’s all my fault!” She blurted, and a few stray tears fell down her cheeks.

Oh boy. “Well, that is a lot, isn’t it?” He said stupidly, and then rushed to correct himself when Gem’s face scrunched up like she was about to start bawling, “B-But don’t worry, we’ll get this all sorted, yeah? Where is he? I’ll help you rescue him.”

“In a cave under our base. I gotta show you, w-we dug it ourselves.” She sniffled, collecting herself. Thank admins.

“Alright, well…” He looked over to Lizzie and Scar, who were watching with wide eyes. “Lizzie, I put you in charge. Go back home with Scar and play some board games or something until I get back. Or go play with the neighbours, whatever, just something safe, alright?”

Lizzie got a look of genuine seriousness about her and nodded, and the two of them ran off towards the mountain.

Jimmy offered his hand to Gem. “Alright, lead the way.”

-

The staircase down into their cave was a tight squeeze, but once they were in the mouth of the cave opened up considerably. For an undiscovered cave it was very large and, other than a few of Gem’s stray torches, very dark.

“Jimmyyy!” Gem urged, “Hurry, this way!”

“Right, right, hurrying!”

He heard the mobs before he saw them, and there were a lot. At least two skeletons, a handful of zombies, and a spider. No wonder they’d been overwhelmed, even he was going to need to be careful about this. He motioned for Gem to stay back and brought up his shield, steeling himself with a breath for courage. Why Gem came to him with this was beyond him, but there was no turning back now. Joel needed him. Heck, Gem needed him. He peered around the corner where the pack was clustered around a cobblestone box and noticed a single creeper mixed into the bunch. Bingo. 

“Hey, big stupid mobs! Come and get me!” He shouted, and the entire group turned to come towards him. The creeper scuttled faster, pushing its way to the front, exactly what he was hoping for. He hid behind his shield as they all clustered together and the creeper hissed to life.

BOOM

The only surviving skeleton was easy to cut down with his sword, and he let out a huff of relief as the bones clattered to the floor. He did it. Holy moly he did it.

“Joel!” Gem rushed past him to the cobblestone box.

He helped her break away the stone, and inside the box with not so much as a torch sat Joel, who was maybe even younger than Scar, curled in on himself and shaking like a cold strider. A tiny part of Jimmy, the tiniest, ugliest part, whispered in his ear how easy it would be to get a dark green kill right now. How simple.

No. Not like this.

“I-I don’ l-like this wildcard…” Joel whined, before bursting into tears.

“Oh Joel, buddy, it’s alright…” Jimmy tried to comfort. His hands hovered uncertainly. A quick glance at Gem told him she wasn’t doing much better and was just barely keeping it together. He needed to come up with something quickly. 

Without stopping to consider the possible awkward consequences, he did the first thing he could think of. He reached down and scooped Joel into his arms.

“Hey, shhh, you’re alright, you’re okay… shhh. Uncle Tim’s gotcha now, everything’s gonna be A-OK.” He hushed, letting every soothing phrase he could think of tumble out of his mouth like alphabet soup. He threw in a little gentle rocking, pet Joel’s hair, anything he could think of until finally the shaking and crying began to settle. The shoulder of his jacket was soaked through with snot and tears by the time Joel properly came back around, but that was fine. He would just have to dunk it in the river or something later.

Joel sniffled and sat up slightly, using one hand to scrub at his face while the other stayed firmly clutched in his shirt. “Ugh… sorry about that, Jim. This whole kid ‘fing sucks…”

“…Joel? Are you okay?” Gem mumbled, face flushed and eyes puffy.

Joel thought for a second, then nodded slowly. “Yeah. Just got a bit scary there, y’know? Stupid baby brain didn’ like the dark.”

“M’so sorry…” She warbled, sounding on the edge of tears again, and Jimmy had to put a stop to that right away.

“Nope, no more crying!” He announced, maybe a bit too loudly, “Everything’s alright now. You did the best you could, Gem. See? Joel’s still on six lives because of you.”

“But I—“

“No buts! You did a good job protecting Joel, and Joel was very brave for staying safe down here by himself. Can we all agree?”

“Haha, butts.” He heard Joel mutter against his shirt. Jimmy counted that as a win.

“Perfect. Now we’re all going to get out of this cave, and you two can spend the night with the Bamboozlers, how does that sound?”

“Like a sleepover?” Gem tilted her head like a puppy, and now that they weren’t in a crisis, man, these guys were cute. 

“Yeah, like a sleepover. C’mon now, I’ve got to get back to Lizzie and Scar before they destroy the server.” He went to set Joel down, only for him to cling tighter and wrap his legs around his torso like a koala. Jimmy was happy to keep carrying him; if he was being honest he expect Joel to start thrashing to be let go the moment he came back to himself, but if he still needed it then Jimmy certainly wasn’t going to judge. Plus, one day it was going to be an amazing story to hold over his head. Maybe not today, but someday.

“So,” Joel said, a cheeky smile on his face as they started up to the surface, “‘Uncle Tim’, huh?”

Jimmy wordlessly reached up and pushed Joel’s head back against his shoulder. “Hush.”

[nmakii]

Ok so another part to your yandere alastor series?! Im like obsessed with them, i love the way you write Alastor!!

So an idea i guess? I love the idea Alastor slowly corrupting his kids and reader trying her best to correct them? Obviously she can’t. Idk, i can see Al wanting his son carry on his legacy while his daughter is becomes a sweet but strong woman who can probably destroy your life in a matter of minutes. I just want his kids to get corrupted to become like him!! 😭

IN A MOURNING WARNING, NO ONE HEARD

[hold up! read the rest of the story first!]

— day by day, alastor ruined your children with his malicious thoughts, while you set them straight. it’s as if evil and good decided to fight their battle in your house.

every day in this house was a headache. sleeping beside the monster called husband every night, him cuddled up to your side as if he hadn’t broken your hopes for years. acting in front of your children as if everything was fine— that they had parents who were madly in love with each other. and, raising your children. of course, raising them in itself is difficult, but alastor seems to just enjoy making your life a hell on earth.

implanting evil thoughts into your babies’ minds, and there was no one else but you to fix his mess. to instill morals in their minds, and to make sure they grow up to be diligent and kind.

sitting down at the dinner table seemed to grow harder and harder each day. resisting the urge to vomit as your son told you and alastor of how he found a rat at school, and how he had cut its’ tail off to see if it’d regrow like a lizard. the image of your little boy being so cruel made you sick to your stomach. and, alastor, he’d done nothing but laugh. “oh, my! quite the experiment, my boy!” he chuckled as he took another bite of his food. “now, dear… that isn’t very nice, don’t you think?” you frowned. “mmh, but dad said that i should feed my curiosity!” noah pouted.

“well, dad is true on that. but, you shouldn’t feed your curiosity if it hurts other people or animals.” you said, lecturing him. “au contraire, my love.” alastor interrupted. “id say that curiosity is one of the most important human emotions! how else do you think mankind discovered to hunt and cook chicken, pork, beef…” he rambled. “they are good for the body, aren’t they? they give the body protein so that they’re strong and so they can protect the people they love! don’t you want our little boy to protect his friends and family?” he raised an eyebrow. “yeah, momma! so that i can protect you and emilia!” noah said.

you felt your heart crack at his words. it seemed as if there was no hope in undoing what alastor had done. as if the little boy you worked hard to raise died. but, maybe there was still hope for your daughter.

“oh, and dad!” noah said excitedly as he looked to alastor. “my friends think its so cool that we go hunting, and they wanna join too! can we bring them, please?” noah begged, bringing alastor’s amusement. “aw, they want to join us? hm, i suppose we could, but only if they’re as well-behaved as you!” he hummed, to noah’s delight. “really?! you’re the best, dad!” noah grinned, running to alastor to loosely hug him by the neck. “yes, yes… now, go finish your meal. your mother worked hard to cook that, and it won’t taste so good when it’s cold.” he said, patting his son on the head.

you zoned out, staring at your daughter in her chair, playing with her food, and scratching the bowl with her little fork. she giggled and talked to herself, before blood started flowing from her nose. “oh, dear…” you muttered under your breath, running to the kitchen to get a tissue paper. “eww! momma, emilia is drinking her own blood! yuck!” noah called out, scrunching his face in disgust. and, when you returned, emilia was, indeed, drinking her own blood— licking her top lip as the blood leaked, and smiling at the metallic taste in her mouth. “oh, emi, sweetie… don’t do that. blood is yucky.” you scolded your daughter as you wiped the blood from her nose.

“yummy!” she shouted, licking her lip for the remains. alastor grinned at her comment, “i couldn’t agree more, baby!” he laughed, swaying the water in his glass. “not right now, alastor. emi is bleeding.” you huffed out in a frustrated manner. “ah, i suppose you’re right, darling. emi, baby, are you okay?” he cooed to your daughter across the table. “i’m okay, daddy!” she grinned, going back to eating as per usual, despite the roll of tissue in her nostril.

“are you okay, my love?” alastor asked, his eyes moving to you. “i’m alright, just exhausted today.” you let out, keeping your emotions and intentions to yourself. “hmm, then why don’t you rest after dinner, dear? noah and i can wash the dishes.” he assured you. “wah?! but, dad, i wanna go play!” noah huffed and pouted. “now, son… protecting also means to help others when they are tired. don’t you wanna help momma?” he asked your son. and as noah thought it over, alastor spoke again, giving him more of an incentive. “now, i hate to do this… but, if you don’t help your mother, i won’t bring your friends to hunt.” noah’s eyes widened at the unfairness. “what?!” he frowned. “guh, fine, ill do the dishes!” he pouted, gathering the cleared dishes and bringing them to the sink. “hmph, good boy.” he grinned. “go rest now, dear.”

and, as you went up the stairs, that moment finally dawned on you. that hunting with his friends and father meant so much to him, he was willing to do household chores. it shattered your heart as tears filled your eyes— why couldn’t you go back to a simpler time? when it was just the two of you. when all you had was each other.

“momma, i missed you!” noah said hugging your legs as you returned from work. “aw, i missed you too, baby!” you smiled at your precious boy. “c’mon! i wanna play with you!” he said, attempting to pull you by your wrist. “in a second, sweetie! momma has to take off her heels!” you laughed.

that memory was 6 years ago.

[glorious-spoon]

Easy as That [9-1-1 | Buck & Eddie | 1/1]

in honor of 9-1-1 day, please enjoy this little episode tag for 7x04 that i recently found in my drafts. because i really wanted to see the conversation between buck and eddie after all that

850 words episode tag | apologies | friendship

-

The first words out of Buck's mouth when Eddie pulls the door open are, "I figured I owed you a proper apology."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees mildly. He's got a crutch tucked under his arm, which makes it difficult to maneuver the door, so he lets Buck deal with it even though he's got a pile of takeout bags in one hand. Apology takeout, no doubt. The bags are stamped with the logo from Anarkali's, and he can smell curry and ginger. As bribes go, he could have done worse. Eddie is weak for their chicken jalfrezi. "You kinda do."

"Not kinda. I was—I was so out of line, Eddie, I'm so sorry."

"Shit happens."

"What, as easy as that?"

Eddie snorts, heading back into the kitchen without bothering to look back and see if Buck is following him. He is, of course. He always is. They already talked on the phone last night, when Eddie was loopy on painkillers and feeling kinda bad about winding Buck up as much as he did. He's less stoned now, and his ankle fucking hurts, so it's a little sharper when he says, "I was always gonna forgive you. You want me to drag it out?"

"Well, when you put it like that, no. But still."

Eddie sighs. It's a character flaw, probably, that he can't resist Buck's face when he looks like this. "We'll get past it. Just like you and Chim did after he decked you that one time. Okay?"

Buck presses his lips together and nods. He sets the bags down on the table and says, "I don't have to stay. If you want some space."

"I don't want space. Maybe an explanation." He nods toward the kitchen drawers. "You can get the forks. I hope you brought enough for both of us, because I'm not sharing."

"Yeah. I—I figured if you didn't want me around, there'd be leftovers."

"I always want you around, you idiot."

"Even after I broke your ankle?"

"It's just a sprain."

"That feels sort of like missing the point, Eddie."

"Listen," Eddie says. He eases himself into a chair, propping the crutch against the table next to him. In the kitchen, Buck pauses with the silverware drawer half-open, takes a visible deep breath, and turns back toward him with a pair of forks clutched in his hand. "You acted like an idiot, and somebody got hurt. It happens. So now you're gonna bring me a fork, sit your ass down, and tell me what's going on with you. Okay?"

"Okay," Buck says, pushing the silverware drawer gently shut. He brings the forks back to the table, sets one in front of Eddie, and reaches into the bag to pull out the takeout containers. 

There's a few minutes of silence while they get everything dished out, and then Eddie takes a bite of his jalfrezi, takes a moment to savor it, then says, "Okay. Talk."

"I mean, I don't know what to say," Buck says evasively. Eddie gives him a look, and he sighs. "Okay, I—I was jealous. Of you, and—and Tommy."

"Tommy," Eddie repeats.

Buck nods, his gaze fixed on his takeout dish, which he's sort of poking at like he expects it to come to life. Eddie reaches across to steal a piece of coconut curry. Buck doesn't even try to knock his fork out of the way. It's kind of amazing how much he looks like a kicked puppy right now. "I—I guess, I thought, you know, I thought he was so cool, and you thought he was so cool, and all of a sudden you guys were hanging out all the time and you kept saying how well you two clicked…"

"I was messing with you. You get that, right?"

"I mean. Now, yeah. Then I just felt like…I don't know. I—I should have talked to you, instead of—but I didn't mean for it to go down like that. I swear."

Eddie nods, chewing the inside corner of his lip briefly. "It was still a dick move."

"Yeah," Buck says. "It was."

"Well, as long as you get that."

"I really do."

"And you and Tommy are cool, now? You kissed and made up?"

Surprisingly, Buck's face goes bright red. Eddie raises his eyebrows, and he says, "Y-yeah, we're—we talked, and—we're good, yeah." He opens his mouth, makes a little stuttering noise, then says, "We're, uh, we're actually hanging out this weekend."

"Without me?" Eddie deadpans, and Buck looks so stricken that he has to laugh. "Kidding, I'm kidding, come on. I'm glad. I knew you two would get along."

"Yeah," Buck says. He lets out a shaky little laugh, then nods a couple of times and says it again. "Yeah."

Eddie raises his eyebrows, but Buck's not looking at him. He's busy spearing a piece of curry, and this time when Eddie tries to steal a bite, Buck smacks at his fork until he retreats, a juvenile little ritual that probably shouldn't make Eddie feel so light. He knows he's not getting the full story of what's going on with Buck, but that's okay. They're okay. He'll find out the rest of it eventually.

[toomuchracket]

you're the only thing that's going on in my mind (d word matty x reader smut)

cocky mean d word matty post-show on glasgow night 1 because i left that gig Fucked Up (see below pic that i took). canon, so girly is pregnant at this point. he goes a bit simpy at the end, but... fork found in kitchen. VERY slutty. enjoy! <3

“what the fuck are you two doing here?” matty's voice - loud, so as to be heard over the people outro - and face are aghast as he exits b stage to find you and mrs mac, the two of you standing in front of the security line at the back. “couldn't believe my eyes when i saw you lurking from up there.”

“well, we do work here,” comes the reply from beside you. 

you laugh, leaning back to stretch slightly before cradling your bump. “and the baby wanted to be up close and personal for the final song. she’s her father's daughter, after all.”

“jesus christ,” matty shakes his head, but the little smile on his face is unmissable. he steps close to you so ross and adam can get out, pressing a quick kiss to the bump before pulling you into his bare chest. “wasn't just the baba that wanted to see me there, though, was it?”

“hmm?” you look up at your boyfriend, a smirk on his pretty face.

“don't act clueless, sweetheart,” matty slings an arm around your shoulders as you both start walking back to the main stage, leaning to speak in your ear. “saw the way you were looking at me the whole time. and the way you crossed your legs when i opened my shirt - that was for you, by the way. wanted to see how you'd react.”

you can feel your cheeks burning. “was it… a good reaction?”

matty laughs, not unkindly, and kisses your cheek. “oh, baby, you're such a fucking sub,” he coos in your ear. “of course it was a good reaction; the sexiest woman in the world’s all turned on and needy for me. s'hot as fuck.”

“you're hot as fuck.”

“too fucking right,” your boyfriend holds out his free hand and brushes it against some of the waiting palms of the crowd, still leaning in to talk to you. “look at them, how excited they are, how happy. look what i fucking did to them, did for them. me.”

“no one else,” you all but breathe, shuffling even closer to him. “just you.”

matty hums, leading you through behind the stage and pulling you into a darkened alcove. his lips are on yours almost immediately, tongue slipping into your mouth and making you whine. “you're fucking desperate for me, aren't you, princess?”

fuck.

“yeah,” you whimper against him. “want you to fuck me.”

matty groans into your mouth, pulling back to hold your jaw. he smirks. “nah.”

you blanch. “what?”

“you don't understand? fuck's sake,” matty rolls his eyes. “no. i don't want to fuck you right now.”

“but…” you feel your lip trembling.

“good girls don’t say but, do they?”

you blink, looking sheepishly at the ground. “no, daddy. m'sorry.”

“that's better,” matty strokes your cheek. “now, instead of us running off because you're needy, i want us to go and celebrate with everyone, because i think i deserve to be celebrated - you agree, don’t you?”

you nod.

“good girl,” matty smiles, a smile that widens when you perk up at the praise. “if you're good enough at the afterparty, then i'll fuck you. understand?”

you nod again.

“words, princess.”

“yes, daddy. i understand.”

matty kisses you again. “let's go, then, gorgeous.”

and thus begins the most tedious ninety minutes of your life.

it wouldn't actually be a bad night if you weren't so worked up, you think - everyone's in good spirits, pleased with how well the show went, and the room is soundtracked by a cacophony of laughs and excited tones. you try your best to get involved in the conversations with your friends, all of them interjecting with their favourite moments of the show, but your focus is so elsewhere that you end up just sitting back and nursing your soda and lime.

elsewhere being your boyfriend, working his way around the conversations in the room and soaking up the compliments like a cat in a patch of sunlight. he's too busy preening to have made a dent in his pint, but he's as animated as he is when he's tipsy; there's a permanent smirk etched on his face as he incessantly talks, and the combination of that and his almost-unbuttoned shirt has you clenching. you don't want to look away from him at all, but god knows what else might happen if he catches you staring at him so openly, so lustfully, teeth biting your straw to beyond the point of use just to stay sane. best to keep your head down every time he turns his in your direction.

it shoots straight up when he speaks from right beside you, though, squatting to take your hand and talk to you. “fancy some air, darling?”

finally.

“yes please,” you reply, biting your tongue to stop yourself grinning too widely.

matty knows how excited you are, though. as soon as you get into the empty hallway, he pulls you in for a sweet hug, but the relief you feel from him touching you is somewhat overshadowed by the way he laughs in your ear.

“what is it?” you lean back just enough to look at him, your brow furrowed.

“you're just so fucking needy,” matty shakes his head, still giggling. “you thought i was getting you alone so we could get each other off, didn't you?”

“i- no.”

“well, good. because that's not what's happening.”

you feel your shoulders slump slightly. “okay.”

“i'll tell you why, but i need to ask you something serious first,” one of his hands caresses the bump. “you're not tired, are you? or sore at all?”

“no, i'm alright.”

matty tuts. “so why are you sitting in there moping, princess?”

your jaw drops. “i am not fucking moping.”

“less of the backchat,” your boyfriend says sternly. “and yes, you are, sitting there looking at the floor and not talking to anybody. told you to be good, remember?”

“i am being good!”

“what did i just say, princess?” matty holds your jaw; not painfully, but firmly enough that you can't look away from him. he looks fuming. “keep answering back like that, and you won't cum for a week. you're already on thin fucking ice as it is, after the way you acted in there. sitting silently just waiting for me to stop celebrating my night so i can fuck you - what a brat you are. a needy little brat.”

you'd be lying if you said his words didn't send a burst of heat straight between your legs. but still, you're curious as to where matty's newfound dominance has come from. “why are you being so mean to me tonight?”

he smirks. “because, darling, you asked me to. remember?”

oh, fuck. a memory crosses your mind, hazy with post-sex fog, matty's jaw dropping when you shyly say you wouldn't mind him being meaner in bed with you, whenever he felt up to it. “ah…”

“you do remember!,” matty looks satisfied. “that's good, because i'm feeling very selfish tonight. in the mood to be… worshipped, i'd say. have someone else do all the work. how's that sound, princess?”

“so good,” you whine. and it does - you'd do anything to touch him right now. “i'll do it now, daddy, if s’what you want.”

“bet you fucking would, gorgeous,” matty's hands trail down your body, across the bump, and back up over your tits. “so desperate for daddy to fill you up again, even though i've already done it. never enough for you, is it?”

you shake your head. “never. need you all the time.”

“greedy girl,” matty grins. “but it's actually hot that you need me so much. just wish you were better behaved about it.”

you nod. “i will be, daddy, promise.”

“prove it,” his thumb pulls your lower lip down. “take what i give you, and you'll get what you want if you keep being good while i finish my pint, yeah?”

“yes, daddy.”

“there's my girl,” matty smiles, and you glow. “now - open.”

you oblige, dropping your jaw so your boyfriend can spit into your open mouth; he opens his to tell you to swallow, but you've already done it before he takes a breath to speak. he groans, rubbing his thumb over your lips and smiling when you suck the tip. “that's more like it. good.”

“thank you, daddy.”

“you're welcome, princess,” matty presses a quick kiss to your lips before pulling you into a hug and murmuring in your ear. “colours still apply tonight, sweetheart, as always - you want to stop at any point, just say the word. you're alright now, though, aren't you?”

“yeah. all green here,” you whisper into matty's ear in return. “i love you.”

“i love you, too,” a kiss to your cheek, and matty leans back. the smirk has reappeared on his pretty face. “m'excited to fucking ruin you later.”

“please.”

your boyfriend kisses you again, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and dragging it to release. “half an hour. best behaviour, you hear me?”

you nod enthusiastically. “i hear you, daddy.”

“alright. let's go back in, then.”

matty takes your hand and leads you back into the room of your friends, helping you to get comfy on one of the sofas before slotting in beside you. he's as self-assured as he was earlier, but your attraction to that is more manageable now that he's actually touching you - a hand on your thigh, lazily drawing patterns into your trouser leg - and you know you only have to endure another thirty minutes until he takes you back to the hotel.

as it turns out, that time flies by, so much so that you're almost surprised by matty leaning in to tell you it's time to go. you nod, and he kisses your head before standing and helping you up.

“is that the two of you on your way?” mrs mac jumps up to hug you, patting the bump affectionately. “take it easy tonight, love. s'been a long day.”

“yeah, i will,” you smile. liar.

“take care of her, healy.”

“oh, i will,” matty smiles. not a lie. “night, everyone.”

after the chorus of well done agains and goodbyes dies down, matty leads you to the waiting car. the journey back is quick, and quiet, the only sounds the humming of the engine and the noises from the late-night glasgow revellers you pass. in fact, aside from thanking the driver, matty's silent the whole time until you get into the room; only once the door closes behind you does he speak, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he takes your coat from you. “colour?”

“green.”

“good. in that case - clothes off, on the bed, legs open. now. and don't even think about touching yourself.”

you're actually thankful of the order, because you're so wet that your underwear is starting to become uncomfortable. with a “yes, daddy” and a sloppy kiss, you practically sprint to the bedroom of the suite, kicking off your trainers as soon as you open the door and pulling down your jumpsuit so quickly you wouldn't be surprised if you ripped it. you chuck it onto the chair in the corner of the room, and your lingerie follows suit before you climb onto the bed as instructed, waiting as patiently as possible for matty.

he wanders in a couple of minutes later, can of coke in hand, and leans against the doorframe. the shirt he was wearing has disappeared, and you can't quite decide if you'd rather look at his chest or his smirking face. “can see how fucking wet you are from here, princess. jesus,” matty says, wandering over to you and looking hungrily at your soaked cunt. without warning, he brings his hand down harshly onto it; you yelp, and feel another gush to your core. matty giggles and repeats the motion, and the same thing happens. “you little slut, liking when i slap your pussy. dirty, dirty girl.”

slightly sickeningly, you don't think you've ever been so turned on in your life. all you can do is whimper as your boyfriend continues to slap your cunt, the noises turning to cries whenever he makes contact with your clit, and then to little mewls as he drags his fingers up and down your slit with a “so messy, princess, i think we need to clean you up.”

sighing with relief, you spread your legs even wider so that matty can comfortably get his head between them - you're surprised (and disappointed), then, when he holds a hand out and says “get up, and follow me”. but you oblige, of course, like the good girl you know you are despite what matty says and thinks. when he nudges you into the shower and takes the rest of his clothes off, you perk up slightly, and even more so when he removes the showerhead from the wall and kneels. “spread your pussy for me.”

fuck.

you oblige, but you must look terrified, because matty's eyes fill with concern. he strokes your thigh comfortingly. “colour, sweetheart?”

taking a deep breath, you reply in a shaky voice. “green.”

he doesn't seem convinced. “you're sure?”

“yeah. honest.”

“well, alright,” he presses a kiss to your thigh. “hold onto me if you need, yeah?”

“okay, daddy. thank you.”

“of course,” matty sits back on his knees. his face changes again. “now… let me clean my dirty girl up.”

aiming the showerhead at the floor, he reaches up to turn the water on, testing it with his free hand and adjusting the temperature dial accordingly. suddenly, with no warning, warm streams of water hit your clit; your jaw drops, and it takes everything in you to stop your legs doing the same. “oh my god.”

“tell me how it feels.”

“it's - shit - so fucking good, daddy,” you pant, eyes rolling back with pleasure, jaw shaking slightly. matty turns the water pressure up a notch, and you gasp. “fuck!”

matty hums. “d'you wanna cum?”

“yeah.”

“well, too bad,” all of a sudden, the water stops. you wail at the loss of stimulation on your clit, and matty scoffs. “what are you being like that for? thought you wanted me to fill you up again. you're telling me you don't want to cum on my dick?”

your legs nearly give out. “no, i do,” you whimper. “please, daddy, need you inside me.”

“hmm,” matty tilts his head, squinting at you. he sighs. “alright. you're doing all the work, mind you,” he stands and takes your hand again, before leading you to stand in front of the sink. “come on, princess. hands on the counter - wanna look at myself while you get me off.”

it's infuriating how hot you find your boyfriend’s arrogance - or, it would be, if you could think about anything other than the feeling of him brushing up against your waiting cunt. the desire spilling out of you isn’t helped in the slightest by the way matty’s eyes are locked onto his own reflection, as he moves and flexes and runs his hands through his hair and across his face.

god, he's fucking gorgeous.

and he knows it. “fucking look at me,” matty says - to nobody in particular, given that you're both already staring at his reflection. “no fucking wonder the crowd reacted the way they did tonight,” he laughs, tilting his head and opening his mouth slightly. “could've had any one of them, i reckon. bet everyone wished they could have me, just like this.”

envy draws your cheeks in. the thought of matty fucking someone else in your place sends a bolt of rage into your stomach, firing up your throat and shooting from your lips as a snarl. good girl be damned. “well, they fucking can't.”

matty meets your eyes in the mirror and smirks. “no?”

“no,” you grip the counter so hard your knuckles go white. “you're mine. besides, none of them could fucking take you like i do.”

he laughs. “oh, you're being a bitch. i like it.”

“just being honest, daddy.”

“well, show me how you take it, then,” with one hand, matty lines himself up with your hole; the other weaves itself into your hair, forcing you to keep looking in the mirror. “give me all you've got, you fucking bitch.”

you smile, saccharine. “yes, daddy,” slowly straightening your arms, you moan in harmony with your boyfriend as he fills you up. “fuck.” 

once you've taken a second to get used to the feeling of matty inside you, you bend your arms and pull yourself almost completely off him, before slamming back with no warning and watching in satisfaction as matty's jaw drops. “shit, princess,” he groans, steadying himself against the wall with his free hand as you repeat the movement, over and over. “yeah, you're fucking right - only you, my girl, only you can take me so fucking well. perfect fucking pussy, perfect fucking girl.”

you beam at the praise - matty notices, and laughs. “you like it when i tell you how good you are at taking my dick? little slut. but it's true. fucking built for this, weren't you? for me to fuck you and fill you up? you must be, to be so fucking greedy - already knocked you up and you still want my cum. fucking desperate,” he pulls you by the hair so your back is against his chest, bringing his other hand to your hip to use as leverage to fuck you even faster than you were already moving. “but i fucking love it. i fucking love you.”

“love you so much,” you whine, throwing an arm back and hooking it around matty's neck. “fuck, look at you. so fucking hot.”

“and all yours,” matty whispers in your ear, making you smile. his lips drop to your neck as he speeds up his thrusts, but his eyes never leave your reflection. he groans. “look at you, princess, my beautiful girl. all full of me. and those fucking tits - love them always, but i'm gonna fuckin miss the way they look right now when you're not pregnant anymore.”

“easy fix,” you giggle. “you'll just have to knock me up again.”

even if matty's hips didn't speed up impossibly more at your words, the noise he makes in response is almost enough to get you off. “i'll fucking do it, princess, if that's what you want. i'd do anything for you.”

“make me cum?”

“if you say the magic word.”

“please, daddy?”

he smiles, pressing a kiss to the side of your head and his fingers onto your clit; you moan as soon as they make contact, which only spurs matty on. “do it, then, princess. cum all over my fucking cock.”

your body reacts immediately to his command - all your muscles tighten and release, pleasure flowing through your nervous system and forcing a scream from your throat. matty groans as you grab hold of the counter again, the new angle letting him grab your hips and fuck recklessly into you, the syncopated rhythm a sure sign of his own imminent orgasm. “oh, fuck,” he whines, pulsing heat deep into your cunt and continuing to thrust into you. “fucking take it, princess, take it like the good little cumslut you are,” he stills inside you, still shaking from the aftershocks, resting his head on your shoulder. 

after a minute of mutual heavy breathing, matty looks up, meeting your eyes and beaming at you in the mirror. “i'm fucking knackered. worth it, though.”

“mmm,” you lean on your elbow. “thank you for indulging me, baby.”

“of course,” matty kisses your shoulder. “and you're unbelievably sexy when you're possessive, by the way. i'm getting turned on just thinking about it.”

you put your head in your hands. “oh my god, no, i cannot go for another round right now. i love you, but i need to go to sleep.”

“no, i agree, don’t worry,” your boyfriend laughs. “can you reach the tap, sweetheart?”

“yeah.”

“run that blue washcloth under the water and chuck us it, then, please?” matty inches out of you carefully, taking the flannel from you with a kiss and kneeling behind you with a moan. “christ, i'll never get over this sight.”

you huff out a laugh, hissing when matty gently wipes the flannel over your core with an “i know, baby, i'm sorry”; you perk up a bit when he stands and helps you straighten up, cradling the bump from behind you. “i love you, darling,” he kisses you. “both my darlings, actually. you feeling alright?”

“just sleepy. s'been a long day,” you snuggle into him. “proud of you. grateful for you. love you.”

“back at you, sweetheart.”

[cutecrawler]

THIS IS MY FIEST FANFIC ON TUMBLR I REALLY HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT THANK YOU G FOR HELPING ME PROOFREAD 🩷🩷

I MIGHG MAKE A NFSW VERSION ONESHOT!!

WARNING: kissing, chasing, and cussing

Jazz song in the background!!

ALL CHARACTERS ARE THE TIMESKIP VERSION!!

The crisp sun dance across you skin, you squirm out of Katsuki firm grip on your waist. Soft jazz music played in the background as the vinyl spun. You put on you slippers sliding to the bathroom, you popped your vitamins into your mouth as you flick on the sink. You reached for your toothbrush dunking the bristles under the flowing water. You hummed to the song as you bush out your hair. You slowly make your way to the kitchen.

You began to cook breakfast taking Katsuki’s bento out the fridge to let it warm up for the long day ahead. The smell of ham and shredded hash browns fill the house. You began to boil the eggs, hearing the creaking of the bed signaling that’s Katsuki is indeed awake. You listen to the creaking of the stairs he walks down his slippers sliding across the flooring as he took his seat in front of his plate.

“Good morning Katsuki, how you sleep?” You ask him, your voice gentle and calm pecking his cheek. “Like I do every morning.” His fork scratching against the glass plate. “Are we still having lunch date together?” You ask calmly, smiling gently.

You’ve been excited about eating lunch with Katsuki for a while now. But each excuse for him not wanting to the lunch date was him being busy with paperwork. “Of course baby, I don’t break promises!” He smirked with a cocky glare. You giggled, smiling at his signature smirk. As the two finally finished breakfast, Katsuki grabbed his bento and began to head to the door. “My kiss?” Katsuki spat glaring upon you from the top stairs. You rushed down, giving him a kiss before he left.

Despite Katsuki having a rough exterior, he was a good husband. “Mr ground zero.” A stern voice interrupted his prideful walk. “What.” Katsuki spat, glaring at the woman, already knowing what he was about to get bugged about.

“You did finish your paper work did you?” She said in an annoyed tone. “Im working on it.” He muttered. “You’ve been working on it for a while now. I need it signed by tonight you understand.” She said in assertive tone. “Yeah yeah okay..” he grumbled watching her walk off. What a goddamn bitch.

As the sun began to set, and the stars began to bling in the dark sky the night shift hero’s and works started to clock in. Katsuki read through the essay of paper work, glaring. “What the hell does that even say?..” Katsuki muttered, clearly irritated as he snatched his reading glasses off the desk. Katsuki’s phone let out a buzzing noise his eyes shot down at his phone “fuck..”

He sat up, walking to his glass window, his phone ringing against his ear. “Hello?” He said gently. “Don’t hello me, Katsuki. Where are you? I miss you.” You hated feeling clingy towards him, you found it cringy, yet you couldn’t lay off when it came to him. “I’ll be home soon calm down.” He looked down into the road cars racing passed the agency before continuing. “I have paperwork I need to file out another goddamn lawsuit for, ‘destruction of property’ like I’m not the one doing MY goddamn job??” He vented, clearly stressed. A small smirk creeped up your face. “You sound stressed.” You said softly

“Yeah probably because my agency is getting sued the second time this month!” He groaned. “That sucks.” You said, trying to sound monotone. Oh, the smile you got trolling your husband while he was agitated was priceless. You giggled a bit even “You find this shit funny?? I’ll show you something fucking funny when I get home.” He spat before the phone cut. You quietly cussed yourself out for being so damn stupid and laughing in front of him.

You quietly sat on the balcony looking over the railing wondering if you would land. “Y/NN, COME CATCH THIS FADE!!!” You practically jumped at the call of your name as you ran inside. You and Katsuki’s eyes linked he dropped his briefcase onto the floor, slipping on his slippers before he chased after you. You were practically pissing yourself as you screamed, booking it to the bedroom.

He chased after you, breathing fast as her lunged at you. Both of you guys falling into the bed. You giggled loudly as he kissed your face. He “Your such a goddamn pain in the ass!!” He yelled as you kissed his neck.

[fangbanger3000]

*✧･ 2024 blorbo awards *✧･

my love and light @forget-me-maybe tagged me in this and it's so fun and who doesn't want to talk about the blorbos? + my own categories, just for fun.

i'd like to invite @lizziemajestic and @faetouchedfool and @kimberbohwrites to the ball! if you want to, of course. i could sit in a circle with all of you and scream about these characters all day.

blorbo of the year (+ villain of the year)

solas, dragon age: inquisition/veilguard. i know, i know. we're all shocked. my moots and irls all pray for the day i get over him so i can talk about literally anything else, send them art of anyone else, and act deranged about anyone else. since i picked up dragon age for the first time this summer, he has been on my mind to the point of psychotic obsession. love u pookie also he was right sorry world

bastard of the year

aradin beno jr., baldur's gate 3. oh brother this guy STINKS. he is perhaps my favourite wet, angry dog and he has been my first ever 5-minutes-of-screentime-and-never-left-my-mind. there is so much potential hiding behind those sad brown eyes in that angry pretty face. i especially enjoy him when he's being fucked by older men who don't give a shit about him (or do they?), kudos to @graysparrowao3.

aradin also brought me the beno babes, the sweetest group of equally feral people i have ever met and with whom @lizziemajestic and i have created a wonderful online space with. and of course he has brought me lizzie, who truly is the brightest star in my sky.

tear jerk(er) of the year

astarion ancunín, baldur's gate 3. yeah, yeah. fork found in kitchen. if i think about him too much or look at him for too long i start gagging on nothing and tearing up. solas may have won the battle this year, but astarion has won the war forever. he was the first fictional character i ever experienced this level of obsession with, and he singlehandedly caused me to pursue fandom spaces and got me back into writing fan fiction. my one true love i fear.

kiss of the year

solas' fade kiss, dragon age: inquisition. i actually screamed and almost threw up when i saw this. i think about it several times a day every single day. the head turn, the immediate open mouth, the shaking of the head like he just cannot help himself, the fact that they didn't bother to animate his hands correctly and yet still made sure to animate him making her grind on his thigh. i will never be over this or normal about it.

sex scene of the year

lucanis dellamorte, dragon age: veilguard. RAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH lucanis was my first da:v romance and i've made several attempts at romancing the others, but i keep coming back. this scene was so beautiful and so sexy and full of so many delightful implications oh my GODDDDDDDAAAAAAMMMMMNNNNNNNN RAAAAAAAAAAH I'LL NEVER BE OKAY AGAIN

oc(s) of the year

inquisitor lavellan, dragon age: inquisition/veilguard. and theus. my moots know better than to ask me about theus bc i genuinely cannot stop once i start, so i won't. just know that he is my son and i love him. my inky will probably one of my favourite player characters of all time and i draw/think/write about her every fucking day bro.

[inquisimer]

[EAT] Sender brings receiver food while they're focused on another task. for the platonic intimacy prompts?

thank you for the prompt!! treated myself to some tooth-rotting fluff with this one :3

Arlow de Riva/Lucanis | 799 words | send me a prompt request!

-

Her room smelled like garlic and paprika when she opened her eyes. Solas’ warnings and advice itched like a persistent rash under her skin, but she smiled as the familiar aroma permeated her senses. She rolled her neck and a gentle caress found her shoulders.

“There you are,” Lucanis murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her head. “Have a nice nap?”

Arlow grimaced. “I don’t know about nice. Informative, I suppose. Helpful, maybe.”

“Information is good. We can sort it out with the team later. But first—“ he tugged on her shoulder, pulling her up to the chaise. Her knees groaned with relief as they left the stone floor. She was never sure exactly how long her liaisons with Solas lasted in the real world—judging by the stiff ache of her muscles, this one had stretched beyond the scant minutes they’d spent trading barbs.

Long enough for Lucanis to make rice, in fact. He pressed a bowl into her hands and she leaned sideways against the back of the chaise, stretching her feet out into his lap and humming contentedly.

“You didn’t have to cook for me,” she said, breathing in the fragrant steam and smiling as she dug in. It smelled like home. If she closed her eyes, and ignored absolutely everything else, they might be enjoying this on a balcony overlooking Treviso’s market.

His thumb rubbed idle circles against her ankle. “On the contrary, after seeing the state of the kitchen when I arrived, it might be considered a crime if I left you to fend for yourself. But I did cook for everyone, technically. As I always do.”

“Is that so?” Arlow smirked as she chewed. “And is everyone partial to cayenne and parsley and a crispy crust on their rice?”

“I did not hear them complaining.”

“Oh, I’m sure Davrin was complaining. He handles spice worse than a Fereldan.”

Lucanis smirked. “If he was, I could not hear it across the courtyard.”

“Have you been here the whole… however long I was out?”

“Of course.”

Arlow scraped her fork against the bottom of her bowl, turning the rice over on itself. “You don’t have to do that either, you know.”

His fingers stilled against her skin. “Does it bother you?”

“No, of course not.” She frowned. “I just… don’t want you to feel obligated, if there’s something else you’d rather do, or something else you’d rather make, or—“

Lucanis chuckled, shaking his head, and Arlow huffed around another bite of rice. She just didn’t want to be a burden. But she didn’t want to say that she didn’t want him to take care of her (because she did), and she didn’t want to imply that he couldn’t make his own decisions (obviously he could). She just knew the kind of reciprocity the Crows taught, and wanted him to know that she did not expect him to care for her at the expense of himself.

“Mi vida, is it a hardship for you to watch my back in battle? To cradle my head and watch for nightmares?”

“No, but—“

“Then why would it be any different for me?” He slid his hand up her leg, held it palm up until she laid hers on it and he laced their fingers together. “I do not care for you because I feel I must. Loving you is not an obligation, amor, it is a privilege, and a pleasure.”

Her chest seized, as it always did when he spoke in poetry as if it were the most casual observation of the weather.

“Besides,” he said, taking a mouthful of rice for himself, “do you think I’d hear the end of it from Viago if I let you go on speaking with the elven god in your head without some sort of guard?”

Lucanis laughed at the face she made. “Ideally, he’ll never know about that.”

“You haven’t told him?”

“No.” She pointed her fork at him emphatically. “And you’re not going to either.”

“Oh, certainly not. When he inevitably finds out, I’ll be claiming ignorance.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Arlow grumbled catching the last grains of rice in her fork. With her belly full, she did feel better prepared, mentally, to handle whatever objections or off-the-cuff commentary her companions had about Solas’ latest suggestions. “Viago’s yet to see that as an acceptable excuse for me, so I’ll see you in the Fade anyhow.”

Lucanis tugged her empty bowl from her hands and set it aside with his own. He nudged her knees up to her chest so that he could settle closer to her on the chaise, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her snug under his chin. He brushed a kiss over her crown.

“If that’s where you are, I would be nowhere else.”

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Part 6

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Lilith Sestri (OFC)

Characters: Wolffe, Cara (child OFC), Sinker, Comet, Boost

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: Sorry about no fic last week. I had surgery on Friday and didn't get a chance to post the fic I wanted to post, so to stay on schedule, I'm forgoing that fic for another update of this one! Yay! This part is going to be tough, but it was absolutely necessary for Cara and Wolffe to have this moment together just as much as the bath time moment. Let's just say, breakfast doesn't go as planned. (oops it got longer) As always, please enjoy 💚

Part 1 || Prev | Next

Series Masterlist

After bath time was done, and they'd both dried off and changed into new clothes, it was time for breakfast. Wolffe really hoped his Pack brothers came through and made a decent breakfast for all of them. He was starving, and he knew Cara must be hungry too. He was a little worried since he didn't give Boost any directions, but there was foodstuff in the conservator, he thought, or, well, he hoped. Knowing his wife, she would've stocked up when she found out he was coming home.

Wolffe walked into the kitchen with Cara following closely behind, but stopped in his tracks at what he saw. Cara didn't stop walking and bumped into the back of his leg with a small oomph. Feeling the light hit, Wolffe reached back around with his hand to rub her head, still staring dumbstruck at the state of the kitchen.

"What in the…" Wolffe said with wide eyes. It was a mess. A complete and utter mess. He wasn't even sure it was still a kitchen. "I said make breakfast, not fight breakfast!"

"We did!" Boost grinned. He had flour patches across his face and streaks down his clothes.

"Sweetie," Wolffe said as he looked down at Cara. "Do you know what that is?" He pointed at Boost.

Cara shook her head.

"I'm gonna teach you a new word," Wolffe smiled. "That is a di'kut."

"Dee… koot," she repeated.

"Hey!" Boost exclaimed, clearly offended by the remark.

Wolffe snorted. "You're the one who said it's never too late to start."

Boost opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it because Wolffe was right.

"Anyway," Comet chimed in and gestured towards the table. "Breakfast is served!"

Wolffe sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, and walked Cara over to the table to eat whatever breakfast his Pack brothers created. She climbed up onto her chair next to him and he made sure she was seated properly so she wouldn't fall off. Sinker then walked around the table and placed the plates down with their homemade pancakes stacked on them. Wolffe eyed the oddly shaped and multi-colored pancakes suspiciously and raised an eyebrow up at his brother.

"What?" Sinker asked.

"Is it edible?" Wolffe asked.

"I made them," Comet added. "So, yeah, they're edible."

Wolffe snorted. Of course Boost and Sinker couldn't be left alone to make breakfast. It was a good thing they picked up Comet when they did or they'd all have starved by now.

Cara tugged on Wolffe's pants and he lowered his head so he could hear her.

"Where's mommy?" she asked.

The room went silent and Wolffe sighed. Not this again. "She's not here, sweetie," he answered, then pulled her plate a little closer to the edge of the table. "Now, eat your breakfast for me."

"We can't eat without mommy," Cara said, then pushed the plate back.

Wolffe bit back his frustration and pulled the plate towards her again. "You have to eat."

"Not without mommy!" she yelled and pushed the plate with more force, knocking the fork onto the floor.

"Cara," Wolffe warned, his patience wearing thin. "This isn't a debate."

"I don't want it!" she screamed.

Cara climbed down from her chair, sat on the floor, and cried loudly. She was in a full-blown tantrum and Wolffe didn't know what to do. He looked over at Comet, Boost, and Sinker with pleading eyes, but the three of them only shrugged. Her screaming became louder and pierced Wolffe straight through the head, making it throb and ache like earlier. Somehow she'd reached a frequency that made him want to scream too. He tried to keep himself under control and calm her down.

"Sweetie," Wolffe said as he rubbed his temples. "I need you to stop screaming, please."

She continued to wail from her seat on the floor, tears streaming down her face as her cheeks turned red. Wolffe could feel the tension in his head rising as it threatened to boil over and explode. Why couldn't she just stop crying? Why couldn't she just understand? Why did he have to keep explaining it to her? He tried to think of his best options, but her incessant screaming was grating on his nerves and clouding his thoughts. If she didn't quiet down soon, the neighbors were going to think he was hurting her.

"Cara!" Wolffe barked, picking his hands up from the table to try and settle himself. "I said stop!"

Cara looked at Wolffe and stopped crying, and, for a moment, Wolffe thought it was finally over.

"I want mommy!" she started screaming again. "I want mommy! I want mommy! I want mommy!"

The tension snapped like a taut wire and Wolffe's chair scraped across the floor as he violently pushed it back. He took a few steps towards Cara, dropped to his knees, and grabbed her little shoulders so she was looking him in the eyes. "She's not coming back!" he yelled. "Do you understand me? She's never coming back! She's dead! She's gone! So, just stop asking for her already!"

Wolffe panted at the exertion and hung his head between his arms, the anger and frustration slowly dissipating. The words he spoke so ferociously, not only to his daughter but also to himself, echoed in his mind. He picked his head up and looked at his wide-eyed daughter, instantly feeling a shooting pain straight through his heart. She looked confused. She looked helpless. She looked scared. She looked scared… of him. Remorse washed over him like a tidal wave and the panic of what he just did flooded his brain.

"Oh, kriff," Wolffe breathed as he released his grip on her tiny shoulders. Cara backed away from him until she bumped into Comet's leg. Wolffe's breath hitched. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Baby–" Wolffe reached out his hand, but Cara turned away from him and grabbed onto Comet's leg.

Comet looked down at Wolffe with a pained expression, then at Cara, and sighed. "Come here, ad'ika," he soothed. "I've got you." He picked Cara up into his arms and she grabbed onto his shirt, hanging on with tight little fists while burying her face in his chest. He readjusted her on his hip, then locked eyes with Wolffe in a silent word. Wolffe hung his head and Comet left the room with Cara.

Once Cara was out of the kitchen, Wolffe pounded his fists onto the floor and yelled in frustration.

Sinker knelt beside him and placed his hand on Wolffe's shoulder.

"What have I done?" Wolffe choked. He wanted to vomit. "I grabbed her. I yelled at her. I've never– I wouldn't– How could I do that?"

Sinker looked up at Boost and gestured for him to go do something else for the moment. Boost nodded and left the kitchen.

"Maker forgive me," Wolffe's voice quivered. "She's just a child, and I… I treated her like a cadet. Like a kriffing shiny!"

"Wolffe–"

"No!" Wolffe yelled and smacked Sinker's hand away. "There's no excuse."

Sinker sighed and sat back on his haunches. "Give yourself a break, will ya? Your wife's dead."

Wolffe flinched at the bluntness of the comment, but maybe that was what he needed right now.

"Maker, Wolffe," Sinker continued. "It's only been what? Twelve standard hours? And in that time you've lost your wife, your home, your belongings, and you almost lost Cara too. You really thought you could get through this without losing your temper a little?"

"I'm a commander–"

"Kriff being a commander," Sinker rolled his eyes. He moved around the floor to face Wolffe. "You're still human, commander or not, and Cara doesn't need Commander Wolffe right now, she just needs her dad. You know, the one who loves her?"

"But I scared her…" Wolffe lamented, the words burning in the back of his throat. "She was scared of me."

"She'll be fine," Sinker said with a wave of his hand. "Just apologize and move on. She's a tough kid. Tougher than you might think." Sinker smirked. "You are her dad after all."

A small smile formed at the corner of Wolffe's mouth. Sinker was right about one thing. She was the daughter of a clone commander, not just some random natborn off the streets. His genetics, and his wife's, ran through her veins. She was sensitive like her mother, but she got his resilience and also his attitude. Plo's words from the night before still rang true. He needed to take each moment as it came and do what was needed then, even if that meant messing it up once and a while. She'd forgive him one day.

Wolffe took a deep breath to compose himself before Sinker offered a hand to help him up. He accepted it without complaint. Looking back at the table of untouched food, now getting cold, another sigh escaped his lips. Cara still hadn't eaten and he wasn't sure if they had any more time for delays since they had to leave soon. He decided to pack some of the pancakes in a container and hoped that Cara would eat them like that. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than nothing.

After putting the food away, Wolffe took another deep breath, then released it slowly before walking out of the kitchen and towards the living room. He stepped to the threshold, and just as he thought, Comet was sitting on the couch with Cara sitting calmly on his lap. He never understood how Comet got so good with kids, but he was thankful. With slow and soft steps, Wolffe approached them. He sat down on the ground and fiddled with a piece of the carpet while he got up the nerve to speak.

"Cara," Wolffe said softly.

Cara lifted her head from resting against Comet's chest to look at Wolffe.

"I'm sorry I got upset and yelled at you," he said. "It was wrong."

"It's okay…" she mumbled into Comet's shirt.

"No, baby, it's not," he continued. "I know… I know this is scary. Daddy is scared too, but that doesn't make it okay for either of us to get upset at each other." He paused, gauging her expression and understanding of what he was saying. "So, how about less screaming and more listening, for both of us?"

"Okay," she said. "I'm sorry, daddy."

Wolffe smiled weakly and released another shaky breath. He opened his arms. "Can I have a hug?"

Cara nodded and squirmed out of Comet's arms and into Wolffe's. He held her tight against him, careful not to hurt her, and kissed the side of her head. He started rocking her and looked up at Comet, who had a warm smile on his face. Wolffe mouthed a simple thank you to him and Comet nodded. Wolffe didn't know what he would do without his Pack brothers, and it pained his heart that it took a tragedy such as this for him to realize just how much they meant to him.

"Daddy?" Cara mumbled into his chest.

Wolffe leaned her back so he could see her face. "Yes, baby?'

"Is mommy ever gonna come home?" she asked.

Wolffe bit his tongue. "No baby, she's not."

"I'm gonna miss mommy," she sniffled and her eyes turned watery.

Wolffe leaned his forehead against Cara's and let his own emotions show. "Me too, baby. Me too."

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