#love that claudia only has one arm

[tan1shere]

Sports Car

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: to popular demand it's here ! - HA you thought I was done w "no new ideas I'm sticking to my drafts" .... well I surprised myself to, ignore it. ANYWAYS 😭 enjoy horny bitches 🥰😈

Summary: you love her new car.

Warnings: smut. And I MEAN smut, this one's going to be uh... different ! So read at your own risk lovelies. Dom bils as per, gear shift usage. You'll see ;) masturbation, cockwarming. Slight pervy billie !

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu @dollarbils @sweetcherriexs @xxangelfarrlzxx

Masterlist

"Hey! Cute jeans." You hear, turning around to be faced with none other than Billie. You had been friends for ages, honestly having a slight crush on her. Especially the way she'd constantly flirt with you. You tried not to get sucked in, saying she was just being casual. But your friend Claudia says otherwise. You had known Claudia first since you were children, getting to know Billie super well over the years of knowing her. It had only been in the last few that she became more... Brazen, with you. Openly doing whatever it was she did. You kept making excuses when Claudia would say. "She likes you!" You did not believe her in that. Pointing out how it was 'just her personality'

She'd give you a look that she clearly didn't believe you, in the slightest. Everyone decided to go out for the night, Finneas, Ricky, and a few others came along. "Hey, cute jeans?" Claudia whispers to you, which you shove her in return seeing as Billie was approaching. "Stop it." You mumbled. But it wasn't a lie that you didn't give that same energy back, no matter if it was just her being her. "Dug them up the other day, I haven't worn them in forever." You smile at her. Claudia thought it was impressive how fast you could slip out of your shy nervous self and into this different persona. Billie leans her arm on your shoulder, smirking slightly. "Yeah? You should wear them more."

"Might just have to since they're so cute." Her smirk turns into a grin. Everyone orders some drinks, conversing about anything and everything. "Billie got a new car yesterday." Finneas pipes up. "Really?" I turn to her. She nods. "You guys want to come see?" - "Without a doubt, let's go." Ricky says heading for the door, always full of great energy. It was a black Porche, very sporty like. "It's so nice." She opens the door for you as you sit, observing every bell and whistle it has inside. "Really nice." You then say after the first thing you said. "Yeah, good pick Bils." Ricky says. She looks at the way you admire it. "Wanna take a ride later?"

Oh golly gee.

Hmm, a challenge. You thought for a moment. Accepted. "Fine fine." You move to sink it into yourself, the strap hitting at a good angle. Making you sigh out into her ear. If anything she'd be worried of moving herself, that sigh going straight to her core. "Fuck sake." She says under her breath.

Your mind goes elsewhere, practically time skipping to- "Y/n?" You turn your head to look up at her. "Oh uh yeah, yup. Love to." You get out, the five of you heading back inside. As the night goes on you just can't help but falling for Billie more and more. It didn't help when you all started dancing, a few drinks in. Having fun nonetheless. Music plays, your tipsy state feeling it. Billies tipsy state feeling you. Her hands move over your body with ease as your back was to her front. You almost didn't feel real, what was happening. As her hands settle on your waist you move your eyes to them. Her cold rings on your skin. Yeah. It was time to go. You turn in her arms, looking at her. "How about that ride now." She smirks at you. "Yeah?" You nod, looking at the others. They'll be fine. You? You'll be more than fine.

She takes your hand taking you out to it. Once you get in, you get comfortable. She watches, starting it up. The air thick with unshed lust. It'll soon spill out of the both of you. She begins to drive. You look at her hand on the wheel, her veins especially prominent at the moment. You shift in your seat before you ask. "How fast can it go?" She doesn't reply at first, her upper lip moving up slowly as you suddenly feel her speed up drastically. Your eyes widen just for a moment as you hadn't expected her to just do it. You look at her, God she was attractive right now. More so than usual.

I can't take no more, im goin' weak in my knees.

"You know." You began. "I couldn't help but feel something earlier." - "That so? Do enlighten me babe." You suck in a breath quietly. "Maybe I should ride that instead." You suggest. Surprisingly bold. Her head turns to you as you were at a light. A bit surprised, but definitely considering it. "I mean if you really want to, better be fast the lights will change soon." Something switched inside you and now you need it. More than anything. Your hands hastily go to un-buckle her belt. "Eager are we?" You ignore her, definitely so. Looking around. It was 3 am and everything was pretty dead out. Everyone probably asleep. But before you decide to do anything you take your own jeans off. That boldness still evident.

We can share one seat.

Your heart picks up but you just do it, you move so you're straddling her lap. Making sure you weren't in her line of sight. Keeping to the left side of her neck. "You're trouble, y'know that?" You bite your lip, going to pull out the main event of your tactics. But her other hand grabs your face momentarily. "But- you can't move." Your face changes. "I'm driving doll, don't forget." Hmm, a challenge. You thought for a moment. Accepted. "Fine fine." You move to sink it into yourself, the strap hitting at a good angle. Making you sigh out into her ear. If anything she'd be worried of moving herself, that sigh going straight to her core. "Fuck sake." She says under her breath.

Now she realizes why this hadn't happened earlier. The two of you were dangerous together. Imagine if she wasn't being careful while she sped up on occasion. Imagine if she gets pulled over with you stuffed full, those cops would be traumatized. So would you. ... So would you, more so humiliated, but the thought of being caught like that was actually turning her on. She had to think of something else and focus. Just the fact after years of lusting over you, she finally has you where she's always wanted.

There was always alternatives while this lust fest was happening ofcourse. The obvious. You had actually just posted a new post on Instagram, looking extra good. Billie was sitting on her bed when she got a wicked idea. A filthy one. Does she go through with it. Hell yeah, she doesn't care. Even if that sounds pervy so be it, she was crazy about you. She stares at the photo, you were on a beach in a bikini. The two piece hiding practically nothing. Score. Her hand travels beneath her sweats, moving past her underwear. Imagining you ontop of her, your tits. That soft voice of yours. How nervous you could get. No matter how much you'd flirt back she knew how shy you were. She feeded on it. Even if she loved you flirting back, she adored when your cheeks would go red. It gave her a egotistical power that she loved. Not only that, you were just the cutest in her eyes, the blush making every feature on your face just stand out. God she was mesmerized by you. Her fingers had entered herself, speeding up at the thought of her making you nervous.

She prayed it'd happen more. Her mind wanders, imagining the soft sounds you'd make, whimpers whines. How they'd sound coming our of your pretty lips. Her hand speeds up, letting out a moan, herself. How she'd fit in you sooo, good. "Mmm, fuck." She curses under her breath, this was probably so wrong. Doing this to a photo of a close friend. But oh how she wanted more.

Your hips were still. Until they weren't, she had one hand on the wheel and the other on your waist making sure you kept to your word. It was killing her she had to refrain. She was in this challenge too. You shift a little, making her blink. You didn't mean to right? Oh but you did, you hated that you couldn't feel her properly. The silicone deep in you, smashing against your walls with the way she speeds. Nothing crazy, but you move. Again. Seeming more intentional. "Mama." Billie warns. You think you leaked just a tad, good God this woman. "But." You breathe into her neck. Oh your goddamm voice rings through her ears like a beautiful song. "Jesus." She breathes. Then you realize the kind of effect you're having on her. You realize that you have slight power in this situation. You smirk to yourself, she wasn't as cocky at the moment. Keeping very silent. You shift again.

Letting out a faint noise right next to her ear. "Don't think I can stay still for much longer Bils." She gulps, but her foot pushes down speeding up more.

We can uh - uh in it, while you drive it real far.

Desperate to find an empty parking lot. Somewhere surely. Until then, you were having your fun. This time you move fully on the plastic dick. Her chest rises slightly, needing you to just, behave. "Youre a fucking troublemaker." You giggle into her neck. "What? Can't find somewhere to park?" You make a little saddened noise. "Poor you. Is this getting to you?" You were in for a treat when she'd find one, she just had the best fucking idea. "Awh yeah, it so is baby. But guess what. Since you didn't listen, I have something in mind that's going to get to you even worse. You'll be a whiney fucking wreck. I promise you."

You move a bit to look at her, confused by what ever it could be. And within seconds she found an empty parking lot. You were done for. As she parks she grabs your hips. Moving the dick out of you, you whine out hating feeling empty so soon. "Naww, shame huh? It's ok you'll be full again very soon." Your brows furrow, what on earth was she going to do. "You like this car right?" You nod slowly. "Yeah? Mark it for me." Bewildered would be an understatement for how you were feeling right now. "W-what?" She bites her lip, she has you stuttering. You were getting nervous. "Mark. My car. With your cum." Your heart picks up, feeling it beat rapidly. What the fuck did she mean. "Want me to show you?" You warily nod, slowly.

Her hands grip your hips, grabbing the bottom of your underwear and moving it to the side, she effortlessly moves your cunt over the gear stick. Your eyes widen. Oh. That's what she had in mind. You felt a little embarrassed. "Fuck it, go on, seeing as you were so desperate to do so on me." You froze, there's no way. "What, shy now?" That fucking smirk was evil. She was enjoying this. "Go on baby, want a reminder." After the initial shock, you had to admit it did feel good against you. You move just slightly, feeling your mouth hang at this new feeling. Rough but so good. She watches you, enjoying every little bit of this. Your movements speed up a bit, but it wasn't as good as her inside you.

"So good it hurts." You moan out a whimper, moving gently against it, her eyes heavy on you and your movements. "That's it, atta girl. Keep moving." She says with a smirk. "It's too much.." You pant, enjoying it but wanting her more. Mind foggy with every possible fantasy. She says nothing. Watching you move slower against it. "Faster, harder, come on." Your forehead becomes sweaty. "Bils, please." Her head just shakes. "You didn't listen, keep going." Your lips were pouty, wanting, needing her desperately. "But.." Her head tilts at your small voice. "If you cum, I'll fill you up again. Deal?" Why was she wanting you to do this so bad, it was turning you on to the max though. Finding this side of her so incredibly attractive. You nod at her request. Needing to feel that strap again.

She moves her hand to your folds, spreading then against it. Your clit being exposed to the leather, just perfectly. Eyes, rolling back as you rock against it, feeling a tightness in your lower stomach. "I- I'm close." You breathe out. "Good, don't stop until you cum." Not even a second later your gushing down the black shift, her eyes gleaming with pride. Her finger moves to collect some and put it on her tongue. "Tasty." She hums. "Mm-kay. The deal." You speak tiredly. She chuckles at you. "You seem warn out. Maybe you should just rest in the-" You shake your head rapidly. "No please need you Billie. Please fuck me." It was merely pathetic, but its true you did need her. "Say no more." She smirks, grabbing your waist yet again. She positions you in the back. Leaning her body against yours.

Her hands grab the dildo. Taking your underwear off fully. "That's better." She sighs out, finally getting to look at your pussy. The one thing she dreamed about. "Even better in person." You didn't even care what she meant by that you both needed this as bad as one another. "Incredibly wet huh?" You shut your eyes. "Who got you so messy baby?" You take a moment, sucking in a nervous breath. "Y-you." The tip prods your hole. "Who?" "Mm, you Billie. You." You say as you feel it, so incredibly close to it's destination. "Please." You moan. Without any more words she bottoms out. Watching your face carefully as your eyes widen, mouth gaping. Hole too. "Mm, nice and deep." Your stomach erupts in butterflies as her voice turns into a husky whisper. Her mouth going to your ear. "So, so. Tight." That same whisper.

Going straight through to your dead mind. You let out a small whimper. Her pace begins, slow yet forceful. Her tongue darts out, licking your lobe. Moving down to your neck. "You know how long I've been waiting to have you like this. Been driving me nuts." She says against your skin. You pluck up some sort of sentence. "You know.. You could always do it on your own, while you're looking at me." Her smirk turns malicious. "Oh trust me, I do." Her thrusts pick up with such need. Needing this more than ever. Your head tilts. Back arching into her thrusts. "F-fuck!" The car becomes hot, steamy. The smell of sex very evident as your body's get clammy together. You grip her shirt, signaling for her to take it off.

She gladly does, chucking it on the floor of the backseat. She had no bra on, making your eyes instantly look. She smirks at you, noticing how your breath gets weaker. You couldn't believe this was really happening. "Breathe baby." She says, noticing how worked up you're getting. You sigh, very contently. Letting your eyes flutter close. "There you go, good girl." Your eyes open again, looking at her breasts. That same shyness coming back. Just what she wanted. Her hand reaches for yours gently, moving it to her right breast. "Don't be shy, it's ok." Your legs wrap around her waist, moaning as she trusts harder. Making it nearly impossible for you to focus. "Billie!" You screech. "Who." She stays sternly. She loved you saying her name.

Your voice so whiney, so soft. "Billie- fuck!" Your hair sticks to your forehead as she fucks you at an ungodly pace. "Yeah, me. I'm fucking you dumb." Something switches in her brain. Something primal. "Getting so loose, so easy to fuck." Woah. If you weren't on the verge of cumming before you definitely were now. "Nevermind, pussys closing around me." She says coming close to your face, kissing you. You squeeze her tit, moaning into her mouth. Perfect opportunity to stick her tongue in your mouth. And without any warning at all you cum, again. Taking her by surprise. You breathe heavily as she fucks you through it. "God you're good." You say. So out of breath, the heat inside the car insane. "Damn, I mean I wasn't even prepared, babygirl." She fakes a sigh.

"Guess a few more rounds would help." She smirks at your face. This was going to be a long, steamy night.

[bangaveragewhitewine]

⋆⁺₊❅ meet the parents

single dad Eddie Munson x single mom Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: For my fourth and final fic of @littlexdeaths The Twelve Days of Promptmas, I bring you a romcom-worthy meet cute! A one-night stand in a small town is always a dangerous game.

Content: Eddie and Reader are both single parents. Modern AU. P in V and oral sex. Too many feelings for a one-night stand. Reader’s shitty ex mention. Small town dynamics. Light on Christmas, heavy on Eddie being a sexy menace. If you see any typos/messy sentences lmk!!

Just an extra little note to say the biggest THANK YOU to @littlexdeaths for putting together these wonderful Promptmas ideas, and for just being completely lovely and amazing too. I have had such a fun few weeks working on writing again, it’s been a crazy few months for me personally so this has been the best way to get back into writing and feeling creative again!! I’ve loved every minute ❤️

✨bang average festive fics✨ Eddie Munson fics ✨Dividers by @strangergraphics✨

It has been quite a few years since you woke up in a stranger’s bed. 

More used to the morning time routine of trying to get a sleepy six-year-old up and ready for the day, or the heartwarming feeling of said six-year-old making her way into your bed to cuddle on sleepy Sundays, you feel a little out of your depth this morning.

And some degree of hungover. 

But it could be worse, you supposed. The stranger’s bed was comfy and he had plenty of pillows for you to sleep on. His sheets were clean and he had not totally smothered you like a limpet all night, nor had he expected you to get up and leave while you were still catching your breath. He was a fairer bedmate than your daughter, and it was pleasant to wake up with the warm weight of his inked arm around you rather than a kid’s-size-twelve foot digging into your ribs, or her hair in your mouth. 

You sink into the comfort of it all, relishing that long-forgotten post-great-sex ache all over and the feeling of waking after a deep and dreamless sleep. You had not been this well-rested in almost seven years.

Next to you, he is asleep on his stomach with his arm across your middle. The room is dusky dark, but you can still make out the tattoos along his pale bare body and the glint of his nose ring, the spill of long dark hair piled up on his head. He is much softer now than when you met in the bar last night, no coy smirk or wolfish grin, no deep dimples on his cheeks. His whiskey eyes are still shut, and you feel warm all over when you remember how he had looked at you like you were the only woman in the bar, in the world, last night. How he had taken you home and taken you apart right here in his navy sheets. 

Carefully, trying not to wake the man next to you, you ease yourself up to check your phone.  It’s far too early to worry about picking Hazel up yet.

Not for the first time, you say a silent thanks to the universe for your neighbour for agreeing to babysit Hazel so that you could have a well-deserved Christmas night out with the friends you had made at work. You will bring her a nice hand-tied bouquet from the shop next week, just because. Without Claudia and her kindness to lean on, you know that going it alone in this small new town would so be much harder. It had been serendipitous really, moving in next door to an older and wiser woman who had been in the very same position as you when her son was not much older than Hazel. You begin piecing together the perfect bouquet for her, eucalyptus and rose and red ribbon, distracting yourself briefly from the dull ache in your head and the dry feeling on your tongue.

He brought you a glass of water before you fell asleep together. It’s cool in your throat, though it barely touches the sides of the discomfort pressing behind your brows. When the glass is mostly empty, you settle back next to him and let yourself doze for a little longer.

Eddie instinctively pulls you closer in his sleep, his warm morning breath tickling your shoulder and neck. You know it is just temporary, he is still a stranger, but let yourself enjoy the fleeting comfort while it lasts.

“Morning.”

His voice is rough and smoky, and there’s a tired smile waiting for you when you open your eyes a while later. You are struck by how pretty he is, handsome and hot but pretty with it; long dark lashes and doe-eyes, cheekbones to die for.

“Hi,” you whisper back. You feel yourself smiling back at him, feeling dreamy and oh-so-comfortable. You stretch your body out, relishing the rush of blood and oxygen to your muscles and your eyes drop closed again at that so-good feeling.

“Sleeping Beauty.” 

When Eddie kisses your hair, you miss how he closes his eyes and savours the moment; you are too busy basking in the unexpected tenderness of this one-night stand, the easiness of waking up slow with a man you met less than twelve hours ago. Even if it is just for this morning, you soak it up. 

“Mhmm. You have a comfy bed,” you whisper, looking up at him again. 

You brush your fingertips along his silver chain before tracing up to his jaw, past the tendrils of hair escaping his scrunchie. You know the feeling of that dark grown-out and nicely-maintained stubble, how it brushed and burned so good on the inside of your thighs, how it feels against your lips. 

Tentatively, bravely, you press your mouth against his and feel his smile. It’s sweet, slow. Intimate and lovely.

“Yeah? M’glad you think so,” he murmurs and steals one more kiss before pulling you against his body. 

Last night as you basked in the afterglow, Eddie asked so quietly if he could hold you and you almost teared up about it. It had been a long time since anyone had held you like that, like he is holding you again this morning.  It has been a long time since anyone has been sweet to you, shared closeness and intimacy like this. Not since the man you loved upped and left, leaving you and one-year-old Hazel with only each other to love. 

You feel the strength of his arms and the softness of his belly. There’s a stirring, hardening interest against your thigh and yet he’s not being too forward or pushy. He’s just holding you, just ‘coz. 

“I don’t… S’a while since I had a sleepover,” he admits, running his blunt nails over the small of your back. “You didn’t hog the covers, and you didn’t sneak off without saying bye…”

Eddie pulls back a little, wearing that small flirty smile that made you swoon last night. His voice is so playful, even though it is deep with morning huskiness. 

“Still here,” you whisper back, “I… It’s been a while for me too. I don’t usually… Yeah.” You shrug, you know he gets it. 

There is a glint of something in his eyes before he looks up at the ceiling. “I’m glad we did. I had fun.” 

The dimple in his cheek is beautiful and bashful, and when he looks at you again his eyes go right to your lips.

“Me too.” You touch his chain again and tug gently to bring your lips together again, putting you both out of your misery.

No one has ever kissed you like Eddie did last night, with all-consuming lust that made you feel electric. He is a blend of rough and smooth, a firm guiding hand followed by a gentle caress. You have never felt so wanted, so craved.

The way he kisses you this morning pushes aside the thoughts of all you need to do today. All you know is want, the cloying feeling of wanting to touch and be touched, craving pleasure. With his hands to guide, you straddle his lap and lean into the feeling of his fingertips wandering past the hem of the t-shirt he loaned you last night. 

Eddie looks up at you like you’re some sort of deity, his eyes and lips shining as you peel off the t-shirt and throw it behind you, leaving yourself bare in his lap. He was not put off by the stretch marks, or the Mom Body you felt so self-conscious about sometimes. Nor was he put off by the fact that you are a Mom. Eddie had simply smiled when you briefly mentioned your daughter, told you he had his own little girl without giving too much away. With that fresh layer of yourselves on show, you could understand each other just a little bit more without going full gushing-parent mode, sharing pictures of your little angels or ranting about who loved Bluey and loathed Peppa more. 

His fingers run over the stretch marks on your hips, starting up a slow grind as he kisses your neck (remembering your ‘no marks’ rule). There is a slight chill in the air to remind you that beyond this liminal bliss, it is a frosty December morning, but Eddie warms you up and distracts you without second thought. 

In the gauzy light, you see touches of fatherhood around his room, easily missed in the passion of last night - a framed drawing on his bedside table, a kiddie hair clip in his ring dish. You smile to yourself and shiver when his warm breath skates over the damp trail of kisses.

“Pretty smile,” he murmurs, needing to taste and feel it again. 

Hands wander and squeeze and you get drunk on each other all over again in the cocoon of Eddie’s bed. You blindly follow his dark treasure trail before taking him in hand, hot and diamond-hard, and savour the taste and sound of his moan. Your aching need for him is tempered and satiated by his fingers and you flush hot all over when he encourages you to scoot up and let him taste you, almost begging for it. Dazed with want, you find yourself clinging to the headboard with white knuckles and his name spilling from your lips. 

Eddie could die a happy man with your thighs bracketing his head. The taste of you makes him feel drunk as you take your pleasure from him; the needy roll of your hips is encouraged by his greedy hands in contrast to how cautious and careful you had been not to trap and tug his hair beneath your knees. 

When you are sufficiently dumb with pleasure, he lays you back against the pillows and lays out his desire for you in between messy kisses, losing his train of thought when you get your hand back on him and whisper back your need for him to fuck you now. Eddie reaches blindly for the (blessedly still-in-date) box of foil-wrapped packets in his drawer, not wanting to look away from you for even a moment.

He holds your hand as he makes love to you and you have to remind yourself not to get too caught up in how sweet Eddie is, even when he his making you feel like you have never been so full; sweetness and filthy words wound together so sweetly. It’s overwhelming and he catches you fighting tears when you feel too good. 

“Hey,” he whispers, wearing too much worry between his brows. “Do you want to stop, sweetheart? Am I hurting you?”

A guy being decent should not make your heart swell like this, and yet it does. You shake your head, tears spill over and he brushes them away with care.

“No, no. You’re not hurting me,” you promise. “I feel really good. S’just a lot.” 

Your voice wobbles and he smiles fondly against your mouth, relieved and happy to be wanted in return. 

Eddie has this magnetism, warm and cloying and a little mysterious; it makes you feel comfortable even when he’s teasing you and making you flush hot all over. 

“Yeah, baby? That’s what I’m here for,” he whispers, and kisses you slowly, sweetly. “Let me make you feel good.” You feel like your heart could beat out of your chest. He can feel it hammering against him as he starts up a slow roll of his hips that fills you completely. 

Your fingers clutch at the sheets as Eddie fucks you into his mattress. Nothing else matters in those moments, only pleasure. You fight the urge to sink your teeth into the meat and muscle of his arm, lick the drip of sweat from his neck. Instead, you taste the way he moans your name and cling to him when you come just moments apart - you first, then him.

He shares his water with you afterwards when he sees your empty glass; you are both damp with sweat and lying side by side with your heartbeats pounding in your ears, the lingering taste of each other on your tongues.

When he kisses you again, his lips are water-cooled and tender.

“Can I make you some coffee? I have to pick up my little terror in a bit…” he says, already cringing at himself. “She’s great, I swear. I promised her diner pancakes for brunch.”

Reality trickles back in, a not-unpleasant cooling off of your morning together.

“Yeah, I should probably not show up in last night’s clothes to pick my kid up. Coffee sounds good.” 

There was always an expiry date on this; the boundaries of a one-night stand were set and familiar, despite how long it has been and despite how easy and intimate this morning has been. You’re both adults, both okay with it. 

“Cool.” He smiles and hauls himself out of bed, stepping into his lost and found again boxers before he doubles back to kiss your cheek. 

When your legs are steady enough he shows you how the shower works, leaving you to it with a new toothbrush, fresh towels and a familiar squeeze to your bare hip. There’s a little part of you that wants him to join you, waste hot water and let him press you against the cold tiles. Eddie wants that too, to delay your inevitable parting of ways and return to reality.

When you look in the mirror, you see a well-fucked woman; kiss-bitten lips and that long-lost post-sex glow. 

“What the fuck,” you murmur to yourself, giggling a little when you think over the last twelve hours. 

You had not gone out looking for a hookup last night, but you made the most of the festive excuse to go for drinks with the few friends you had made since moving to Hawkins six months ago. Catching Eddie’s eye at the bar had been a happy accident. A happy accident that lead to letting him buy you a drink, and then buying him one back. Your friends had wholeheartedly encouraged it, knew him to see around town and vouched for him as a mechanic. Good with his hands, they had teased. Oh, how right they had been.

The water is hot and Eddie’s shower gel is the typical ‘for men’ scented sort of thing. You feel fresh and clean when you step back into the bedroom, finding sweats and an Iron Maiden hoodie on the bed for you, alongside your clothes from last night (which Eddie has attempted to fold neatly, instead of leaving you to pick them up from the floor).

It should not make you smile so much, but your cheeks ache pleasantly as you dress yourself, opting for last night’s jeans with Eddie’s sweater. It’s washed-soft and smells like the detergent you have at home with a hint of his cologne.

You follow the scent of coffee and the sound of music downstairs, finding more traces of parenthood on your way - a purple fairy door on the baseboard,  a washing basket full of clean kids' clothes outside a closed bedroom door, light-up Skechers and silver glitter rain boots in the hall. There is something familiar about them, but brush it aside as something Hazel probably asked for in Target.

Eddie’s unbuttoned jeans hang low on his hips as he makes coffee in mismatched mugs, his hair is down tickling against his bare shoulders and back. There are drawings on the fridge and a Christmas tree peeking out from the living room. It feels like a happy home.

His eyes light up when he sees you, looking as hungry and enamoured by you in his hoodie as he had been when you were wearing nothing at all. 

“Do you take sugar, or are you sweet enough?” he asks, wearing a softer version of that panty-dropper smile from last night. He smells clean, minty and masculine, after a quick whore’s bath in the other bathroom.

“Just one,” you say, resting your hip against the kitchen island while you watch him fix up your coffee. “You’re smooth, huh?”

“You tell me.” He slides the mug across to you before blowing on his coffee, taking a still-too-hot sip that he tries and fails to cover. For a moment, you think he might be doing a bit, alas he is simply endearingly clumsy.

You feel bad laughing, but Eddie only pouts a little bit before grinning at you. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks and he ducks his head to hide behind his hair. 

“Real smooth.” 

Exercising patience, you decide to let your coffee cool a little.

“I’ll give you a ride home if you like?” he says, hoping it’s not too forward. 

He wants to be more forward, ask for your number and ask you out. He likes how his clothes fit your body, and how you looked blissed-out in his bed. While Eddie’s trying not to come off too strong, you appreciate his sweetness and fight your own internal battle of trying not to fall for your one-night stand.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Eddie. I’m over on Cornwallis, is that out of your way?”

He smiles a little, “I don’t mind a little detour, sweetheart.”

You pointedly blow on your coffee, learning from his mistake, and savour the made-just-right coffee in a Snoopy & Woodstock mug.

Over his shoulder, you spot a photo of a familiar man on the fridge, bookended by two heads of dark curly hair. There’s a handpainted fridge magnet with ‘Fae’ written in childishly charming pink writing, and you feel your cheeks flame.

He watches your face change, looks over his shoulder to see what you’re looking at. 

“Ah. That’s my Uncle Wayne, and Fae. My daughter. she’s six.” He unpins the picture and thumbs over it gently before turning it around to you.

You know exactly who they are, but take it anyway.

When you moved your life to Hawkins, Indiana six months ago, you would never have believed that you would make friends with a grandfather in his sixties outside of Curtain Call Dance Studio while you waited for Hazel. Making friends as a single Mom in a new town was not easy, you had little time outside of work and parenting for yourself, let alone socialising (and god forbid, dating). And then you parked next to Wayne one Thursday. He was a little quiet but had warmed up more each week; now he smiled when he saw you, asked how your job at the florists was and how Hazel was doing in school.

Even though they were in different First Grade class groups at Hawkins Elementary, Hazel and Fae had become almost inseparable in their dance classes and on the playground. 

You knew Fae’s dad worked late some evenings, so Wayne helped him out. Hazel had told you that she had seen Fae’s dad once when he picked her up early to go to the dentist, and that he had hair just like her friend.

“She looks just like me, it’s crazy - poor kid. I can’t believe she’s six. She’s supposed to be three, max. Y’know what I mean?” He says, showing you more of his proud Dad side before realising that your confusion is not because you’re looking at a picture of two clones. “You okay?”

“You’re Fae’s Dad? Fae Munson?” you ask, watching his shoulders tense a little as he nods. “Eddie. Our kids know each other. I’ve met Wayne.” 

He scowls slightly beneath his bangs, confused and a little worried that he hooked up with the mother of one of the kids who was mean to Fae in school, who told the teacher when she was ‘too chatty’ or when she stood up for herself.

The words spill from you untempered, unrestrained to clear it all up. “They’re at dance class together. They’re in the same grade. Hazel and Fae are friends, Eddie…”

He visibly softens, drops his shoulders, and even though he still looks confused he melts even more when an involuntary nervous laugh bubbles from your chest. 

“Seriously? No… You’re Hazel’s mom?” His eyes blow wide. “Fuck.” 

Eddie puts his head on the counter with a thunk, and you’re left with the photo of three smiling Munsons. Fae has her Dad’s eyes and hair, his impish mischief that had endeared you to the little girl. They really are alike.

“Wayne was right,” he says, muffled beneath his hair before peeking at you, “You are cute.” 

It makes you laugh more, though your cheeks feel like the surface of the sun.

“Wayne thinks I’m cute? Huh…”

“No. Nope,” he yelps, head flying up like a wild thing. “Oh my goddd.”

You feel a little spacey as the pieces fall into place. Wayne’s nephew Ed worked at Thatcher Tyre as a mechanic, and Fae had told Hazel her Dad looked like a rockstar. She wasn’t wrong…

“He was totally going to try and set us up or somethin’.”

“He did say I’d finally get to meet you at the Winter Performance…” you say, feeling fizzy-all-over as you come to terms with the shock of it all. “Guess we bet him to it.”

“Told me you were real sweet too.” Eddie smiles, his cheeks are pinker than ever.

Part of your brain berates you for hooking up with a stranger in a small town - a small town where everyone knows everyone else. But when Eddie reaches his hand out across the island and says, “Good to finally meet you, Hazel’s Mom,” with that flirty smile and his whiskey eyes, it melts away and you’re not really that sorry at all.

You take his hand, mug-warmed and adorned with silver rings. 

“Nice to meet you at last, Fae’s Dad.”

Neither of you is too embarrassed by the revelation, though you both circle back to how fucking crazy it is at least twice. Even though you still feel gooey-warm under his attention, you don’t want anything to get in the way of your daughter’s friendship, of your new start in Hawkins, and feel selfish for wanting more than the taste you have already had of Eddie Munson. You both know your time together is drawing to an end, the bubble is about to burst, and a little part of you wishes that the illusion of being strangers could have lasted a little longer. 

With your coffee consumed and your coats and boots on, Eddie takes your hand and pulls you against his body before you step outside of the door together. 

“Hey, gorgeous. One more kiss?” he asks, head tilted to the side. 

You don’t need to think about it, and take his stubbled jaw with both hands as he holds your hips. Kissing him makes all the tension roll away once more, and you hope it is enough to help him remember you as more than just some other Mom in the First Grade Parents Group Chat (which you both have muted). You have to savour it, remember his taste and touch.

Eddie is not shy about kissing you, he slides his tongue against yours and moans ever so quietly when you push your chest against his. He is also the one to slow it down, makes it sweet and tender and you would dare say romantic, even with his hands on your ass. 

“Can I ask for one more thing?” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours. 

Right now, you would consider giving him a kidney or a blow job if he asked nicely. 

“Mhm,” you whisper, giving nothing away just yet. 

“Can I get your number? I wanna take you out properly,” he says, his thumbs play with the belt loop at the back of your jeans. “Like a date.”

Feeling hot all over, you try to play it cool and not nod so eagerly lest you headbutt him and leave him bloody-nosed. 

“Yeah. That would be nice, Eddie.” 

He watches how your teeth sink into your lip and has to kiss you once more, just because. You take his phone and add your number and name, adding a little sparkle emoji before deleting it. Then you add it again and hand it back before you can change your mind.

“Cool. And, um maybe the girls could have a play date sometime? I was gonna ask for your number anyway, so y’know. Two birds, one stone and all that. Silver linings?” Eddie does a jazz-hand-flourish thing before he shakes his head at himself and tucks his phone away. “I had a good time with you. A great time. And I know what you might be thinking, I don’t want this to get between the girls either. But I’d love to see you again.”

You are even more endeared by these glimpses of how sensible he is as well as his goofy awkwardness beneath the leather jacket and bad boy stare.

He is as gentlemanly as he had been last night, opening doors for you, though he is less handsy in the bright morning light (he does give your knee a squeeze at the stoplight). You feel safe with him as he navigates the frosty roads of Hawkins, talking about music, what concerts you had been to before becoming parents, and where to get the sparkly tutus for the Winter Performance. 

All too soon he pulls up outside your house, spotting the red door with the handmade wreath that you had described.

“Next to Henderson’s?” he asks, brow raised.

“Yep. Do you know Claudia, or is this town just too small?”

He laughs, tilts his head against the headrest. “It’s way too small. Her son, Dustin? One of my best friends.” 

You tip your head forward, smiling even as your head shakes. “I’ve heard so much about Dustin. We’re having Christmas dinner with them.”

Eddie's dimpled cheeks crease even more. “Damn. Well, I can’t wait to hear why you picked Hawkins of all places to move to. You can tell me on our date.”

Proud of how that flusters you, he presses a kiss to your hand and winks, “I’ll text you later, sweetheart.”

You want to kiss him again, but you manage to restrain yourself, remembering the nosy neighbours on Cornwallis. Instead, you let the flickering fire inside you flirt back, hoping to fluster him too.

You place your hand high on his thigh and squeeze. “You better, Eddie. Drive safe.”

You can feel him checking you out all over again, the weight and warmth of his gaze, as you make your way up the path to your door. Once your key is in the lock, you part ways with a wave and a wink, lingering just a moment more to watch his car peel away from the curb. 

Left with a fluttering feeling in your tummy and warm cheeks that ache from smiling, you take a moment for yourself in your hallway. 

It is time to go back to being Hazel’s mom. You can’t wait to hear about her sleepover with Ms. Claudia and the cats, bask in her brilliance and take every hug and smooch she will offer you (or let you take for yourself). Inspired by Eddie and Fae’s breakfast date, you think of taking your girl to the diner for dinner later on, maybe watching a Christmas movie before bed. 

In the mirror above your sideboard, hanging above the key dish and the thrifted lamp and a photo of you and Hazel in matching sunglasses, you catch sight of your smiling reflection once more, enveloped in a dreamy daze and borrowed hoodie. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and your smile becomes bigger, brighter, brimming with hope. 

What did you think? Do we want more of these two? 👀 Thank you so very very much for reading! Your comments, reblogs and likes are incredibly appreciated and adored!

Whether you're celebrating or not, I am wishing you the cosiest and most wonderful holiday season filled with peace and love and every good thing you deserve ✨

[meazalykov]

the season to (not) be jolly

barcelona femeni x esmee brugts x reader

summary: you hated christmas, and your teammates figure out why

warnings: childhood neglect, trauma, angst, financial poverty, etc

the excitement rings through the barca locker room like electricity, bouncing off the walls and between your teammates. 

the holiday break is just around the corner, only one training session and ninety minutes of football separating everyone from flights to faraway places like back home, home-cooked meals, and quality time with loved ones that only get to see them from the stands at important games. 

it is a cheerful chaos—laughter echoing, jokes being thrown back and forth, and plans being laid out like promises.

"we’ll be in norway,” mapi grins, slinging her arm around ingrid as she sits beside her. 

“ingrid’s parents already have the cabin ready. a real winter wonderland, i shall say.”

“it’ll be nice to be home,” ingrid adds softly, her smile as calm and steady as always. 

you sit at your locker, head tilted down as you lace your boots, pretending to be engrossed in the task as their words float around you. 

it feels safer to keep your eyes on your hands, watching how your fingers move—pull, tighten, tie. over and over again. anything to distract yourself from the sting in your chest.

you feel it every december. that heaviness. that punching ache in your ribs when people start talking about their families, their holiday traditions, and their childhood memories. 

you can’t relate. you never could.

to your left, keira and lucy are chatting animatedly about spending christmas in england, lucy teasing ona about the inevitable cold since ona will be going with her. to your right, patri and claudia are arguing over who will get more gifts from their loved ones, both wearing matching grins as they playfully push on each other.

but you? you just exist in the in-between, silent, invisible.  

the noise grows louder. the locker room feels smaller. your throat tightens, that familiar burn rising behind your eyes. you push it away. this is not the time to fall apart.

alexia’s voice cuts through the chatter again, light and teasing as she looks ahead at you. 

“nina, you’ve been quiet. what about you? where are you headed this christmas?”

you freeze for half a second. it’s subtle enough to go unnoticed, but the question lingers in the air like a heavy fog. you glance up, forcing your expression into something neutral—something safe.  

“nowhere special,” you say with a small shrug, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“just staying here at home. might catch up on needed sleep without needing to wake up for training.”

“no plans with family?” mapi asks, brows furrowing slightly.

you hate that. you hate when people ask about your family. after leaving your home to live in paris, where you played for a season and a half with psg (before leaving when the barcelona offer came up in 2021), you stopped talking to your mother who wanted nothing to do with you. 

your answer has never changed, and yet, every time it feels like a fresh wound being prodded.  

“yeah,” you mutter, looking back down at your laces. 

“just after christmas though.”

thankfully, mapi doesn’t press further. her attention shifts back to ingrid as she brings up the norwegian christmas markets, and you’re left to sink back into your silence, drowning in it. 

you look over at the corner of the locker room to see esmee, your girlfriend, looking right at you. jana sits beside her, laughing about a joke sydney made while esmee notices the sadness in your eyes. 

the look in your eyes can be hidden from the team, but you can’t hide it from esmee.  

she notices—of course she does—because she knows you better than anyone, even after just eight months of being together. normally, you’re her sunshine, a steady source of warmth no matter what the day brings. 

you’re the first to crack a joke after a tough training session, the one to steal food off her plate at team dinners just to see her roll her eyes, the one who sneaks kisses when no one’s looking and holds her like she’s the most precious thing in the world. 

but now? now you’re quieter, smaller. you smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and your laughter sounds hollow when it finally comes.  

“i don’t have to go, you know,” she told you last week as you sit together on the couch, her thumb tracing gentle circles over the back of your hand. 

“i can stay here with you.”  

you shake your head almost immediately, forcing a smile as you press a kiss to her knuckles. 

“no, es, you should go. your family wants to see you. they miss you.” 

you don’t tell her the rest—that you don’t want her anywhere near the dark place that december always drags you into. she’s too bright, too good, to get caught up in the emptiness you feel during this time of year. so you push her away gently, telling her you’ll be fine, that you’ll call her every day and send pictures of maple– your cat— curled up at the foot of the bed. 

esmee doesn’t look convinced. she squeezes your hand tighter, leaning her forehead against yours.  

“you’re not fine,” she whispers, eyes searching yours. 

“i am, esmee.” you say. 

you’re just tired, you convince yourself. however, the words stick in your throat because you know she won’t believe them. this is the first december you’ve spent together, the first time she’s seen you like this, and it terrifies you—being vulnerable in front of someone you care about so much. 

you’ve always hated christmas. as a kid, it was just another reminder of everything you didn’t have. no presents waiting under a tree. no stockings hung by the fire. no warm meals shared at a crowded table.  

instead, you had an empty house, cold and quiet.  

your mom always worked. always. christmas, birthdays, weekends—it didn’t matter. “we need the money,” she’d say coldly, pulling her coat on as she hurried out the door, leaving you behind. 

sometimes, she’d forget it was even christmas until days later.  

“we’ll celebrate next year,” she’d promise. but next year never came.

you can still remember what it felt like to see the other kids at your academy, showing off their shiny new boots, their expensive kits, their gear from nike or adidas. their parents would stand proudly by the sidelines, bundled up in warm coats, smiling as they cheered.  

then there was you, wearing a pair of cleats one size too big—scuffed, worn, bought secondhand with the crumpled euro bills you’d earned from mowing lawns or shoveling snow after training each afternoon. you’d tuck your hands into the pockets of your thrift-store jacket to hide the holes in the seams.  

your academy teammates didn’t know how lucky they were.  

you hated them for it, sometimes. hated their laughter, their joy, their easy lives. mostly, you hated yourself for feeling like you didn’t belong. for being the girl who showed up every day with nothing to show for it but grit, raw talent, and determination.  

now, years later, that feeling lingers.  

you’ve worked hard—harder than anyone—to get here. to wear the barcelona crest on your chest. to play alongside some of the best players in the world. to prove to yourself, and to everyone else, that you deserve this.  

no matter how much success you achieve, no matter how many goals you score or games you win, you can’t outrun the past.  

christmas will always be a reminder of what you never had.  

you pull your boots off, methodical and slow, as the locker room continues to cheer around you. your teammates don’t notice the way your shoulders slump or how you turn away slightly, shielding your face.  

“hey,” a voice says quietly beside you. it’s aitana, sitting beside you since her locker is beside yours. her tone is softer than usual, like she’s noticed something. 

“you okay?”

you nod quickly, too quickly.

“yeah. just tired.”

she doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t push. aitana never does. she just nods and goes back to her boots, letting the moment pass without making it heavier than it already is.  

you’re grateful for that.

you finish changing, moving through the motions on autopilot, your mind elsewhere. the noise in the room feels muffled, like you’re underwater, and when you finally leave the locker room, stepping out into the cold december air in your new training gear, you inhale sharply—like you’ve been holding your breath all along.  

the sun is already setting as you leave training hours later, streaks of orange and pink blending with the darkening sky. your breath comes out in clouds as you walk toward your car, hands stuffed deep into your coat pockets.  

you stare at the horizon for a moment, watching the city lights flicker to life in the distance. it’s beautiful, you think absently. and yet, it makes you feel so small.

tomorrow, the break begins. your teammates along with your girlfriend will board flights, heading off to homes filled with warmth, love, and laughter.  

and you? you’ll stay here. alone.  

you’ve grown used to loneliness over the years. it’s familiar. like an old coat you can’t bring yourself to throw away.  

that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.  

you sit in your car for a long time before starting the engine, the radio playing faintly in the background. a christmas song—cheerful and bright—fills the silence, and you quickly shut it off, gripping the steering wheel tightly.  

you hate christmas. you hate the way it makes you feel. like you’re still that little girl, watching the world through a window, longing for something you’ll never have.  

turning on the radio, you hear, “walking around the christmas tr–” before slamming your fingers on the mute button. there was no christmas tree in your apartment, nothing in your space shows that it is even december. 

not like alexia’s apartment that clearly shows that is is the holiday season. the scent of cinnamon candles and fresh pine greet esmee like a warm hug as she visits alexia. 

soft music plays from a speaker in the corner, and the living room is an organized mess of wrapping paper, ribbon spools, and tape dispensers scattered across the coffee table.  

“es!” mapi’s voice is the first to cut through the scene, grinning up from where she’s sitting on the floor, tape stuck to her sleeve. 

“about time you showed up. come help me wrap ingrid’s gift before she figures out what it is.”  

“you’re impossible,” ingrid mutters beside her, laughing as she ties a bow on someone else’s gift. maybe vicky’s since esmee saw the ipad that the younger girl asked for. 

esmee smiles at the couple teasing eachother, kicking her shoes off and settling onto the floor, careful not to disrupt the organized chaos. across the room, olga – alexia’s girlfriend – sits on the couch beside alexia, scissors in hand as she trims the edges of wrapping paper, while salma sprawls nearby, half her attention on the gift she’s wrapping and half on her phone.  

“is mine here?” esmee teases after a moment, eyes narrowing playfully at the pile of brightly wrapped boxes beside alexia.  

“it’s already done,” alexia replies without looking up, focused on folding the paper perfectly around a large box. 

“you’re not getting any sneak peeks until new year’s eve like everyone else.”  

“como no,” esmee groans dramatically, earning a laugh from salma and mapi. she leans back on her hands, soaking in the cheerful atmosphere for a moment, but the weight in her chest pulls her down before she can fully enjoy it. 

the smile fades from her face, and her gaze drops to her lap.  

“what’s wrong?” alexia asks, finally noticing the shift in her demeanor.  

esmee hesitates, chewing her bottom lip. “it’s... about y/n.”  

the room quiets slightly, everyone’s attention turning toward her. mapi raises an eyebrow, already halfway to smirking as she leans into ingrid. 

“trouble in paradise?”  

“no, no,” esmee says quickly, shaking her head. 

“it’s nothing like that.”  

olga sets down her scissors, studying esmee carefully. 

“then what’s wrong?”  

esmee swallows hard, fiddling with the corner of a ribbon. 

“i feel like... i need to stay in barcelona for the holidays. with y/n. she’s—she’s going to be alone.”  

alexia frowns slightly, confused. 

“no, she’s not. she told me she’s going to see her mom and family eventually.” 

esmee’s heart sinks, her brows furrowing as she glances up at alexia. “that’s not true,” she says softly, shaking her head. “she hasn’t spoken to her family in nearly five years.”  

silence falls over the room like a heavy blanket. alexia looks stunned, her brow creasing deeply as she processes esmee’s words. salma sets her phone down, staring in disbelief, while mapi and ingrid exchange quiet glances.  

“she told you that?” alexia asks carefully, her voice softer now.  

“yeah,” esmee nods, her voice steady but heavy with concern. 

“she doesn’t want anyone to know. i think—i think she told you that lie so you wouldn’t feel bad for her. she hates christmas. she’s always hated it. i don’t know why, but i can assume that it has to do with her family.”  

“joder,” mapi mutters under her breath, rubbing the back of her neck. 

“y/n’s gonna be alone? she didn’t tell anyone?”  

“she wouldn’t,” esmee says, guilt rising in her chest as she looks around at them. 

“she acts like everything’s fine, but it’s not.”  

ingrid exhales slowly, her face softening with quiet understanding. “we can’t just leave her like this,” she says firmly. 

“esmee’s right—she shouldn’t be alone.”  

“what do you suggest?” alexia asks, her voice sharper now, edged with determination.  

“we go to her,” mapi says immediately, pushing herself to her feet as if the decision is already made. 

“right now. if she won’t talk to us, we’ll make her.”  

“she’s going to hate me,” esmee says quietly, worry flickering across her face as she stands, too. 

“she doesn’t want anyone to know. she’s going to be so upset that i brought you all into this.”  

alexia crosses the room in a few strides, stopping in front of esmee and placing a hand on her shoulder. her expression is calm but resolute, a quiet authority in the way she looks at her.  

“she won’t be upset at you,” alexia says firmly. “i won’t let her be.”  

esmee lets out a shaky breath, nodding slowly as the others begin to gather their things. the cheerful hum of the evening is gone now, replaced by a silent determination that hangs thick in the air. alexia is the first to head for the door, already pulling on her coat, and one by one, the others follow—mapi, ingrid, olga, salma.  

as esmee pulls her own coat on, she sends up a silent hope that you will understand. she knows how fiercely you guard your heart, how much you hates people seeing the parts of yourself that are broken. 

esmee also knows that you deserve more than an empty apartment and silence on christmas day.  

back to you– the steam still lingers faintly in your bathroom, curling around the doorframe as you pad out into your apartment, feeling the lingering warmth of your everything shower settle into your skin. your matching red plaid pajamas feel soft and clean, clinging to you in that perfect way that only comes after freshly washed laundry. 

you won’t admit to anyone that the red plaid feels a little festive—that maybe, on some level, you allowed yourself to indulge in something resembling the season.  

your hair is pulled back in a loose, low braid, wisps escaping around your face, and your apartment is spotless. floors vacuumed, counters wiped down, blankets folded neatly on the couch. if you couldn’t have christmas, the least you could do was make sure the space felt fresh and ready for the new year. clean, organized, empty. just like you wanted it.  

you hum quietly as you step into the kitchen, reaching for the bowl of fruit on the counter. you’d planned to snack a little while watching a movie tonight, something non-festive—maybe a thriller like friday the 13th– anything that didn’t mention families or magic or joy.  

before your hands can reach the fruit bowl, there’s a knock at your door.  

you frown slightly, the sound cutting through the quiet apartment like an unexpected jolt. you assume it’s esmee—she’d mentioned she might come by to say goodbye before she left for the netherlands in the morning.  

“coming,” you call softly, feet shuffling toward the door.  

when you swing it open, your breath catches in your chest.  

standing in the hallway, crammed into the small space outside your apartment, are esmee, mapi, ingrid, alexia, salma, and olga. esmee stands closest to the door, just beside mapi, her expression tinged with worry that makes your stomach turn. 

everyone else has the same look—soft, cautious, and far too knowing.  

“what’s—” you start, forcing a smile to smooth over your features. 

“what are you all doing here?”  

“surprise?” mapi tries, her voice lighter than the rest, but even she falters when your eyes narrow slightly in confusion.  

“can we come in?” alexia asks softly, her tone careful.  

you nod slowly, stepping aside to let them file in one by one. salma gives you a small smile as she passes, and olga pulls you into a quick hug—her familiar warmth a brief comfort.  

“it’s good to see you,” she says, and you force another smile, nodding.  

“you too. it’s been a while.”  

as the door clicks shut and you turn back to face them, the knot in your chest tightens. their expressions don’t match their usual energy—not the teasing, playful banter you’re used to. instead, they’re quiet, gentle. worried.  

“is everything okay?” you ask, scanning the room as they settle awkwardly around your small living space. you go on sit on your grey colored sectional couch as everyone follows you. 

alexia is the first to speak.

“y/n... are you really going to see your family this year?”  

the question hits you like a punch to the gut. your heart drops, and your eyes immediately dart to esmee, who looks at you apologetically. you don’t even need to say it—your expression screams “did you tell them?” 

esmee shifts slightly, opening her mouth to speak, but mapi cuts in before she can.  

“she can’t save you from this conversation,” mapi says gently, though there’s no humor in her voice. 

“we know you lied.”  

you take a small step back, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “i’m fine,” you say quickly, the words rushing out before you can think. 

“i don’t have christmas plans, and that’s okay.”  

“it’s not okay,” ingrid says firmly, her voice soft but resolute. 

“y/n, it’s clearly not fine.”  

you feel the walls closing in, your heart pounding in your chest. the room feels too small, the air too thick. flight or fight mode kicks in—you want to run, to get away from their prying eyes and gentle words that feel like they’re picking you apart piece by piece.  

“there’s nothing wrong,” you stammer, shaking your head as you back toward the couch. 

“i don’t know what you’re all talking about. i’m fine—”  

“hey,” esmee’s voice cuts through the panic, soft but steady, and when you look at her, the tension eases ever so slightly. 

“it’s okay. nobody here is judging you, okay? you’re safe. you’re not in trouble for lying to ale.”  

her words ground you enough to sit down, curling into the corner of your couch. you hug your knees to your chest, wishing you could shrink into yourself, disappear completely. 

you don’t want to be here, in this moment, with all their eyes on you.  

“i just hate how everyone gets to have a good holiday except me,” you mumble, the words spilling out before you can stop them. your voice wavers, cracking slightly as the truth seeps through the cracks in your armor.  

ingrid is the first to move, crossing the room to sit beside you. she doesn’t say anything—just wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you gently. olga comes next, kneeling on the floor beside the couch and resting a hand on your arm.  

“what do you mean by that?” olga asks softly, her voice a careful whisper.  

alexia moves to sit in front of you, dropping to her knees so she can look up into your face. her expression is open and kind, patient in the way only alexia can be.  

“what happened, y/n?”  

you close your eyes tightly, your fingers digging into your knees as you try to fight back the sting of tears. you don’t want to tell them. you don’t want anyone to know. but the words are already there, clawing their way out, demanding to be heard.  

“i never had christmas, my birthday afterwards did not seem important either..” you whisper finally, your voice so small it’s almost lost to the room. 

“i don’t even know what the happy feeling is supposed to feel like.”  

alexia’s brow furrows, and mapi leans forward, her voice quiet but gentle. 

“can you explain?”  

you take a shaky breath, the air trembling as it leaves your lungs. 

“growing up... it was just me and my mom. we didn’t have money for christmas. no tree, no presents, nothing. she worked all the time—she had to. bills came first. even with that, she was never nice to me. she made it seem like i was asking for too much.”  

your throat tightens, but you force yourself to keep going, to let it out.  

“when i was in the academy, all the other kids would come back after christmas with new cleats, new gear, new jerseys. i’d still be in hand-me-downs from thrift stores. i’d use money i got from doing yard work to buy boots that were a size too big to make sure i could fit in them for a few seasons– because it was all i could afford.”  

the room is silent as you speak, the weight of your words settling over everyone like a blanket. ingrid’s arm tightens around you, and olga gently rubs your arm as tears sting the corners of your eyes.  

“i hated it,” you admit, your voice breaking. 

“i hated watching everyone else have families, have traditions, have... love. i hated feeling like i did something wrong, like i wasn’t good enough to deserve it.”  

you bury your face in your knees, unable to look at them. your shoulders shake slightly as you try to keep yourself together, but the truth is out now, raw and ugly, and you feel exposed in a way that terrifies you.  

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” esmee says softly, sitting on the floor beside alexia now. 

“none of that was your fault, y/n.”  

you don’t respond, but the tears slip free, hot and silent against your skin. you feel alexia’s hand settle on your knee, grounding you, and ingrid presses a kiss to the side of your head.  

“it’s not fair,” you whisper. 

“it’s not fair that everyone else gets to be happy except me.”  

“but you deserve to be happy, too,” alexia says gently, her voice firm with conviction. 

“you deserve love, and joy, and traditions, just like everyone else.”  

“we can’t change your childhood,” salma adds softly. 

“but we can change this year and every year after this one.” 

you lift your head slightly, looking at her through blurry eyes.

“what do you mean?”  

“you’re not spending christmas alone,” ingrid says simply, brushing a tear from your cheek. 

“none of us are going to let that happen.”  

“you’ll come with me and olga,” alexia says. 

“we’re having dinner with her family on christmas eve, and you’re coming. no arguments.”  

“and before you say no,” olga adds quickly, smirking slightly, “it’s not a pity invite. it’s a ‘we want you there because we care about you’ invite.”  

you look around the room, at all of them—esmee, alexia, mapi, ingrid, olga, salma. their faces are open, kind, and so full of love that it makes your chest ache.  

“you don’t have to do this,” you say quietly, but esmee shakes her head.  

“we want to,” she says softly. 

“you’re not alone anymore, y/n. you have us now, you have me.”  

something shifts in your chest at her words, the weight you’ve been carrying for years lifting

you don’t know what christmas will feel like this year, but maybe, just maybe, it won’t be so bad.  

esmee shifts beside you, reaching for your hand, threading her fingers through yours as you lay your head on her chest. her touch is soft, steady, and when you glance at her, you see something unwavering in her eyes—love, determination, all of it laid bare.  

“i’m staying in barcelona,” she says quietly, her voice gentle but firm.  

your brows furrow immediately, and you sit up slightly. 

“esmee, you don’t have to—”  

“no,” she cuts you off, shaking her head with a small smile. 

“i’ve already decided. my family is coming here instead on the day after christmas. we’ll celebrate together, and you’ll be with us.”  

you open your mouth to protest again, the instinct to push her away rising, but before you can say anything, alexia’s voice chimes in, calm and final.  

“again, that’s not up for debate,” she says softly, kneeling back onto the floor to look at you, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“you’re family to us, y/n. esmee’s family loves you just as much as we do. and that’s final.”  

you glance back at esmee, your heart tightening, your walls cracking just a little more as her thumb rubs soothing circles over your knuckles.  

“you’re not alone anymore,” she says again, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“this year, you’ll have a real christmas. with me. with my family. with our family.”  

you stare at her for a moment, overwhelmed by the weight of her words, by the love in her gaze that feels so foreign yet so familiar all at once.  

"okay,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as the beginnings of a smile tug at your lips. 

“okay.”  

esmee leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as alexia gives your knee one last reassuring squeeze. the rest of the room seems to exhale in relief, the energy softening into something warm and safe, like a blanket wrapping around you.  

for the first time in years, you let yourself believe it.  

you’re not alone.  

and this year, christmas will be different.

masterlist

[m0chisenpai]

Hi, could you do a Louis x Fem!reader x Armand? Like something where they are both obsessed with her and maybe she a little oblivious even tho they give her what ever she wants. I love your others too by the way.🫶🏼

desires of the heart

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

in which she has two immortals wrapped around her little finger

Author note: this sounds similarish to a loumand fic I got previously so I’m gonna build onto that one

Time in the penthouse seems to move slower. The days and nights felt blurred from adjusting your schedule to the ‘vampires’ Daniel interviews. And with each passing day, more and more do the vampires find themselves falling deeper into your heart. It is your own fault for falling for a pair of supernatural fanatics, though now they have proved their inhumane nature.

You had their own dead ones in the palm of your hand yet you remained so oblivious to it.

You find yourself spending your time less in your room and more in their company as they begin to reach the end. Daniel mentions during one of your dinners together that he finds them to be stalling. Louis speaks slower, finds himself struggling to remember certain parts.

It irritates him, but as you sit across him barely touching your own meal Daniel ends his rushing.

“Those books, are the older ones right?” You watch Armand hover above in the collection looking for more pictures of Claudia for your personal “research”. In your spare time you’ve begun compiling information from her journals and diaries, looking for pictures to put a face to the voice of the woman trapped in a child’s body.

“Yes, some of these are beyond your time,” he looks down at you slowly allowing himself to settle in front of you. You push your frames back up the bridge of your nose so you can properly look at the elder vampire.

“Can I see them?”

Louis watches amused from his seat as Armand holds you close to show you the books. Slowly he glides back up with you in his arms following your direction till you pick a small stack to sit with Louis and look through.

These are older photographs from his years in New Orleans. Family pictures, pictures from his childhood.

"Aw what happened to the fro? That's the cutest baby afro I have seen!" you pout as Louis pulls a family picture out. And he rolls his eyes as you pull your phone to take a picture.

"Times were different," Louis rolls his eyes and you scoff at his vague response. You page through the album carefully with gloved hands as you look at the dearly cared aged photos.

"Is that him?" your eyes settle on a duo picture, him and his brother side by side. Louis can only nod, his lips pressed in a line as you stare. In the picture his brother stands behind him, hand on his shoulder. He remembers that day fondly. They bickered on what to wear and settle on a pair of their old father's suits. "He was handsome. Definitely a sweetheart, I can tell by how he's looking at you here in this one."

When you look up at you him, you smile "I see you take after him." Before Louis can respond one of the workers has entered. Interrupting your bubble of peace. "Mr.Molloy has requested you in his room ma'am."

Armand's face immediately ices over into a glare, his response fiery. "Tell Mr.Molloy if he wishes for his help to return he can come and get them himself. She is not a dog."

"It's alright, the old fart does this all the time in the office." You go to stand stretching your arms overhead and quickly rubbing your forearms for friction. You're cold, Louis observes the goosebumps across your freckled shoulders from the slouch neck sweater you wear.

When you are are out of ear shot Louis speaks to the worker.

"Have the shoppers come in tomorrow morning for Mr.Molloy's intern. The girl needs proper clothing. My companion will be there to assist further."

Much to Daniel's distaste. you are like a child in a candy shop pointing to sweaters from Ralph Lauren's upcoming fall collection. But he hides his distaste giving you a smile when you happily show him the sweater that was 'giving Rory Gilmore but I wear it better.' Armand sits watching as you soar through racks and picking your items of choice.

You hesitate when a woman approaches holding a cases of lenses, "we offer these in prescription of course."

"Oh no these are fine."

"Pick one." Armand finally speaks up. When you look at him he is now sitting up, but the way he sits with his legs crossed, an arm draped across the back while the other rests atop his knee. His eyes a show of dominance, as if daring you to say no to him.

You settle on a thick marbled brown pair. But he stands to move in front of you, picking up a few for you to try. You try on several till you are pushing his hands away.

"The jade green ones as well as the golden wired ones for her," you grumble watching as he picks up the two for the woman to box. "We will have your prescription sent as soon as possible."

"Thank you but, this a bit much for a few days stay."

"We have no issue providing you your comforts whilst you work on the novel."

"Ok but-"

He raises a brow that silences any opposition. When you offer no more pushback, Armand places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the women who begin to drape you in abayas and scarves for your hair.

Daniel can only huff and look back to his laptop.

'CLEARLY three idiots in love with one another. Female is too incompetent to discern vampires obsession, affections.' He underlines idiots smirking to himself as he scribbles more notes about the three of you down.

You're nearing the end of the interviews. You can tell cause they spend any bit of time of the days glued to your side. You don't bring it up, you accidentally mentioned it in passing to Louis and his entire demeanor once so warm and gentle became...rigid.

He didn’t speak to you that night, but Armand was there to placate your worries.

Louis sits beside you on the couch now. Watching you listen and take notes. One earbud while your hand stops and moves to write at the most random of moments.

He’s eerily still with the only movement behind his eyes watching and hearing every single thing.

These days he's more brazen in his affections. Sitting closer, allowing his hand to linger when he passes your chai, playing with the baby curls at the nape of your neck. But there is something even more intimate as he sits beside you, watching you.

"Gonna keep staring me down like a creep?"

His lips perk up, "sorry cher. Just memorizing your face."

Your fingers stop typing, your train of thought halts for a second till they both return at the steady pace you had going. You’ll give him that one, your heart did feel fuzzy. But you’ll be damned to cry.

"Can a vampire love?"

Louis shifts a bit in his seat tilting his head upward, you wonder if he is avoiding your gaze or truly in thought. "I believe we feel immensely. Everything feels...deeper. Almost too much if I am quite honest. I think that’s why so many of us choose the sleep. These feelings are magnified."

Now it’s your turn to look up. "But if your entire being is dead, what is it that allows you to feel again? Your heart no longer works, your brain must not function, or maybe it does. But you are dead. How can the dead feel?"

Ah, that mind of yours. Louis loved it deeply. His eyes flicker to his joined palms till they return on you.

"I've heard stories, seen elder vampires that lived many lifetimes take their life because of the loneliness. At times, I myself felt it. It’s the silence, but as I said before you feel it double, he’ll even triple than the loneliness you may feel at times. Had our feelings died with us, then I do not think they would put an end to themselves."

You nod, pausing for a moment again. To feel that much it’s scary. It must be even scarier to love. Falling in love now, heartbreak even feels like it takes over your whole body. But to feel that even more, how can anyone survive through that?

"I feel it too," you pause for a moment, "it's the worst." When Louis doesn’t respond, you blank your lack of sleep or the stress of work that leaves you open and vulnerable. “I don’t think I could survive it. Loving at least. It hurts and it’s always taking. Leaving you high and dry in the end. I don’t….i couldn’t handle that again.”

Though Louis respects your boundaries, he feels the buzz in your bones. He hears the tremor in your voice, sees the mist of tears sitting in your eyes. A desire sitting on your lips. “What do you need?” It comes out as a whisper, yet it feels so loud.

And your response is just as quiet, “can you…can you just hold me. Please, Louis.”

The laptop shut and atop the table, and he is holding you close. Your eyes slowly fall shut as you wrap your arms back around him. He pulls you atop him and you squeeze him back hiding your face in the nook of his shoulder.

He must be shushing you or speaking but you can’t hear it, all you can do is soak this in.

You feel complete again, so whole.

[eilishsmuse]

no need to persuade

— billie eilish x fem!reader

context. at a dinner party for one of billie’s close friends, she pulls you away for a little bit. little do you know she just means a little alone time.

cw. alcohol, swearing, making out, teasing, no smut (sorry not sorry), billie has her little slutty glasses on, billie is a little cutie patootie

soundtrack. generous – doja cat

fer yaps. don’t be mad y’all but this is a little filler for right now. i’m gonna release the other angst fic on friday 😕

Laughter. Chatter. Music. Food.

It was a nice atmosphere. One of Billie's close friends had invited the two of you over to a dinner party in their backyard, and the two of you happily accepted the invitation.

You sat at the long dinner table, surrounded by many of Billie's close friends, and chatted with them all while sipping on some white wine. Claudia and Finneas were both sitting across from you, talking about a movie night they wanted to have with Billie and you.

A double date, Claudia called it.

As you talked with Claudia, you felt Billie lay a hand on your shoulder, making you tense up slightly.

"Hi baby."

Your voice was gentle and sweet, leaning back to look up at Billie and give her a small kiss at the corner of her mouth, followed by a small smile.

"Hi mama," Billie smiled.

"I'm gonna steal her away from you for a little bit, Clauds."

Claudia gasped in fake betrayal, but nonetheless, she let the two of you go and continued to chat at the dinner table. Billie then took your hand in hers and led you into the house, making small talk, asking if you were enjoying the party or not.

As you answered Billie's questions, she pulled you into what seemed like a library-slash-office situation. Pinning you up against the door softly with a smile, her hands finding your waist and gripping softly.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

A smile plays on your lips as your hands travel to the sides of Billie's face, "Yes. Many times."

There was a comfortable silence, and the only sound was the laughter and chatter from the dinner party.

You let a soft smile play on your lips as you looked at her blue eyes through her glasses, which she'd worn a lot more recently.

"Why'd you steal me away?"

Your hands tuck back a piece of Billie's hair behind her ear. Voice gentle

Billie gave a soft hum as she tilted her head into your hand instinctively.

"Hmm, I think you know why," she murmured, nuzzling into your neck softly, her breath tickling your skin and sending a shiver down your spine.

Her hands moved slightly from your hips to wrap her arms around your waist, holding you closer to her.

A small, quiet giggle left your lips as Billie's lips connected to your skin. Tilting your head to give her better access.

"Just wanted a little alone time with you, baby,"

Billie muttered, her lips now connecting to your neck in a trail of feather-light kisses. They were gentle and innocent at first, but they soon began to get more eager and desperate, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin.

"Besides, everyone was getting on my nerves."

A small hum left your lips as you closed your eyes at the nice feeling of having Billie share some attention towards your neck. Your breathing slowed, and you sighed in contentment.

“You don’t mean that.”

Billie chuckled against your skin, continuing to leave light bite marks on your neck.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," she mumbled, pulling back slightly to pull the collar of your shirt down so she could leave a hickey.

"You just taste really good."

A quiet whine left your lips at Billie's words, and you sighed again. This time your sigh was uneven and your legs grew weak.

"Billie."

Your voice was soft and low, eyes still closed, fighting to open to look at her before the two of you did anything in this office that'd make anyone blush.

Your voice was music to Billie's ears. She loved the quiet whine that left your lips, the heavy sighs you would give in between each kiss she bestowed.

But what she loved the most was whenever you would say her name. The way it slipped off your tongue so effortlessly, like a plea, a whisper for her to take you.

Billie let out a quiet hum at the sound of your voice, and pulled back to look at your face, admiring your closed eyes and parted lips.

"God, you look so good like this, baby," Billie muttered, her eyes roaming your face, watching your chest rise and fall with each breath.

"So beautiful, I'm so lucky you're mine,"

Billie then moved one of her hands and gently traced the side of your face, her fingers running across your jawline before moving to your lower lip.

With the left over courage you had, you got a hold of Billie's collar and pushed her back to a couch that was in the middle of the office.

You walked toward her and straddled her hips, your white skirt hiking up in the process. Hands cupping Billie's face and leaning down to finally kiss her soft, plump lips. Her lips sweet with some fruity flavor, probably the punch they were serving in the backyard.

Billie's mind was in a frenzy. One moment she was being the dominant one, and the next, you had her pinned down on the couch, straddling her hips in that pretty little skirt of yours.

Billie let out a quiet gasp in surprise, her hands automatically finding their way to your thighs, giving them a light squeeze. She could feel the fabric of your skirt riding up as you straddled her, and it took all of her control to keep her mind from wandering to impure thoughts.

But those thoughts seemed to disappear as soon as you kissed her. The taste of the wine still lingering on your tongue mixed with your natural sweetness, and she couldn't help but let out a quiet moan against your lips.

Billie's hands then slowly made their way underneath your skirt, hiking it up further, her cold rings against the soft skin of your thighs.

"Mmm."

The moan that left your lips was soft and eager. Your body was fully pushing itself into Billie's grip and touch.

You tilted your head to kiss Billie better, slid one hand up her head and laced your hand into her hair. Her cap falling off in the process, landing on the floor behind the couch with a small thud.

Not paying any mind to the cap and letting your tongue explore Billie's mouth, wanting and needing more of her taste.

Your eager moan went straight to Billie's core, making her squeeze your thighs again in a desperate attempt to keep her control. But as you pressed yourself against her, and let your tongue into her mouth, all thoughts of restraint went out the window.

One of her hands that was on your thigh quickly found its way to your hips, her grip firm as she pressed you even closer against her, her own tongue meeting yours in a passionate battle for domination.

The taste of wine and your natural sweetness was like a drug to her, and she couldn't get enough. She needed more. She needed all of you.

Without warning, Billie then suddenly sat up, a hand still on your hip and the other on the back of your neck, keeping you close to her.

"God, you taste so good, mama," she muttered against your lips, her voice low and raspy, "can't get enough of you,"

A moan left your lips and reverberated against Billie's lips at her words. Your hips bucking into her lap harshly in search for any friction.

Billie then began to plant kisses along the skin of your jawline and neck, working her way down to your collarbones.

"You're driving me crazy, baby," she muttered again, giving the skin of your collarbones a gentle bite, "you just look so good in this damn skirt."

A loud smack was then heard throughout the room as Billie's hand came in contact with your ass.

A half whine and groan left your mouth, throwing your head back softly and pushing Billie further into your skin.

At the sound of your whine and the feeling of you pushing yourself against her, Billie let out a quiet growl.

"You're such a tease," she hissed quietly, nipping and sucking on your collarbone, her hands still exploring your body, finding the soft flesh that lay underneath your skirt. Squeezing.

Billie's hands were everywhere. It was like she couldn't get enough of you, like she needed to touch every inch of your skin.

"Such a good girl, baby," she murmured against your collarbone, "so perfect."

“Dinner’s ready!”

The loud voice was heard from the backyard and caused both Billie and you to stop your actions.

A soft laugh left your lips at both of your reactions, cupping Billie’s face gently.

Billie groaned at the sound of her friend's voice, her head dropping to your shoulder in frustration.

"Do we have to?" she muttered, her voice muffled against your skin.

You lifted Billie's head off your shoulder and gave her a small smile, leaving a gentle kiss on the corner of her lips.

"Yes. I'm hungry."

Her lips were red and slightly swollen, her clothes were slightly ruffled, and her glasses were crooked and not fully on her face like they were supposed to be. The sight made you giggle and you carefully fixed the glasses on her face.

"But I'm still hungry too," Billie mumbled, her voice still whiny, but a small smile began creeping on her lips.

As you fixed her glasses on her face, Billie just sat there and let you, her eyes watching your every move. She then looked back up at you, and let out a quiet sigh.

"Damn it, I'm hungry for you."

You shook your head at Billie with a smile, rubbing her cheeks with your thumbs absentmindedly.

"You can wait till after the party."

Billie huffed at your response.

"That's too long," she whined, tilting her head and pouting slightly, "I can't wait that long. I'm starving."

"Shut up!" You exclaimed with a loud laugh.

You got off her lap and extended your hand for her to get up too and follow you back to the party.

Billie groaned and rolled her eyes, pouting a little but took your hand anyway.

"You're no fun," she grumbled playfully, standing up.

Billie reluctantly took your hand, letting out a final sigh.

"Fine. But as soon as this party is over, I'm absolutely ravishing you."

A laugh left your lips as you leaned to kiss Billie.

"You're such a weirdo."

Billie chuckled at your comment.

"Maybe. But you love me."

She intertwined her fingers with yours, and began to lead you out of the library-slash-office and back to the party.

‧₊˚✩彡

fer yaps!!!

amoooooo!!! 😫

[mapiforpresident]

Lazy Morning Cuddles

patri x reader x pina

The soft morning light filtered through the white curtains of your shared apartment, casting a gentle glow over the room. The hum of the city below was faint, barely noticeable against the stillness of your cozy bedroom. You stirred first, the warmth of Patri’s arm draped over your waist and Claudia’s soft breaths against your shoulder anchoring you in place.

You blinked sleepily, taking in the peaceful sight of your girlfriends. Patri, on your right, looked impossibly serene. Her dark lashes rested against her cheeks, her lips slightly parted as she slept. Claudia, on your left, had curled into you sometime during the night, her head tucked into the crook of your neck. Her hair tickled your skin, but you didn’t dare move. This was perfect.

You smiled, letting out a contented sigh.

Patri stirred beside you, her arm tightening around your waist. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gave you a soft, sleepy smile. “Buenos días, amor,” she murmured, her voice husky from sleep.

“Good morning,” you whispered back, leaning over to kiss her forehead. Her warmth seeped into you, and you couldn't help but brush her cheek with your fingers.

“Too early,” came Claudia’s muffled complaint. She buried her face deeper into your neck, her arms snaking around your middle.

“It’s past nine, lazy,” you teased, giggling softly as you felt her lips press a sleepy kiss to your collarbone.

“Doesn’t mean we have to get up,” Claudia mumbled, her words laced with a pout. “It’s a day off, and the bed is too comfortable. And you smell nice.”

Patri chuckled softly, her fingers now tracing lazy patterns on your stomach under the blanket. “She has a point. We don’t get mornings like this often. No alarms, no training, no commitments.”

You tilted your head to meet Patri’s gaze, her dark eyes filled with affection. “So we’re all staying in bed, then?”

“Obviously,” Claudia grumbled, finally lifting her head to join the conversation. Her brown eyes, still heavy with sleep. “And no one’s allowed to move until I’ve gotten at least ten more kisses,” she said with her adorable pout.

“Only ten?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well,” she smirked, leaning up to brush her lips against yours softly, “we’ll start with ten. And then we’ll see.”

Patri groaned playfully. “Why do you get to demand kisses first?”

“Because I’m the youngest,” Claudia quipped, her lips curling into a smug grin as she kissed your cheek next, her hand cupping your face. “It’s only fair.”

You laughed, turning your head to meet her lips again, this time in a deeper kiss. Her lips were soft, warm, and familiar. Patri watched you both with an amused glint in her eye, though she was quick to interrupt by nudging Claudia with her shoulder.

“Alright, that’s enough, Pina. Share,” Patri said, her voice teasing as she tugged you gently toward her.

Claudia huffed but released you, falling back onto the pillows. “Fine. But you owe me.”

Patri laughed as she cupped your face, her thumb brushing your cheek before leaning in to kiss you. Her kisses were different—slower, softer, like she was savoring the moment. You melted into her touch, letting her hold you close.

Claudia’s exaggerated sigh broke the tender moment. “I’m feeling very left out over here.”

Patri pulled back just enough to grin at her. “Oh, poor baby. Come here, then.”

Claudia scooted closer, and before you knew it, all three of you were tangled together again, giggling as Patri leaned over you to press a kiss to Claudia’s lips. You could feel the warmth of both their bodies surrounding you, their love wrapping around you like the soft blanket that covered the three of you.

“This,” you murmured, your voice soft with contentment, “is my favorite place in the world. Right here, with both of you.”

Claudia grinned, her hand sneaking up to tangle in your hair. “You’re our favorite, too. Even if you take up too much of the blanket.”

“I do not!” you protested, laughing as Patri nodded in agreement.

“You kind of do,” Patri teased, nudging your side. “But we forgive you.”

The room filled with laughter again, the kind that made your cheeks ache and your heart swell.

~~~

Hours passed without any of you moving much. Patri had taken to playing with your hair, her fingers weaving gentle braids while Claudia rested her head on your chest, tracing invisible shapes on your stomach.

“Do you ever think about how lucky we are?” Patri asked softly, her voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Claudia tilted her head up, her brows furrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

“To have this,” Patri replied, gesturing vaguely at the three of you. “To have each other. It’s not exactly… normal, is it? But it feels so right.”

Your heart tightened at her words, and you reached for her hand, intertwining your fingers. “It might not be normal to everyone, but it’s perfect to me.”

Claudia smiled, pressing a kiss to your collarbone before looking up at Patri. “Me too. I wouldn’t trade this for anything. Not the trophies, not the money—nothing.”

Patri leaned down to kiss your joined hands, her dark eyes glistening with emotion. “I love you both so much.”

“We love you too,” you and Claudia said in unison, making all three of you laugh.

~~~

Eventually, your stomach growled loudly, breaking the moment.

Claudia snorted. “I think someone’s hungry.”

“Blame your amazing cooking last night,” you said, poking her side. “You spoiled me with that pasta, and now I expect to be fed like a queen.”

Patri raised an eyebrow. “I seem to remember you were the one who burned the garlic bread.”

You gasped, mock-offended. “Excuse me, it was slightly overdone. And anyway, we all agreed it added character.”

“Sure, sure,” Claudia teased, her laughter contagious as she rolled off you to stretch. “Alright, who’s making breakfast?”

“I vote Patri,” you said immediately.

Patri raised her hands defensively. “Hey, I’m not moving. I’m too comfortable.”

Claudia smirked. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

“Deal,” you said, sitting up slightly as the two of you faced off.

Patri watched with an amused smile as Claudia’s scissors beat your paper. “Ha! You’re on kitchen duty, amor.”

“Unfair,” you groaned dramatically but couldn’t help grinning.

Claudia pulled you back down for a quick kiss. “Think of it this way—you’ll get all the kisses when you come back with food.”

Patri nodded in agreement, pulling you into a hug. “And we’ll keep the bed warm for you.”

You sighed, defeated but happy. “Fine. But don’t blame me if the toast is slightly overdone again.”

As you reluctantly left the warmth of the bed to head to the kitchen, you couldn’t help but glance back at your girlfriends, tangled together in the blankets, sharing a secret smile. Your heart swelled, and you knew mornings like this were what made life so special.

And as much as you hated to leave, you also couldn’t wait to return—with breakfast and plenty more cuddles to come.

[mbsneur]

My Love

Aitana Bonmati x Reader

Summary: your Aitanas girlfriend

Warnings: Pure Fluff, maybe bad ending

My Masterlist

please read this text before going to the story

please don't be so strict with me but rather write to me what I can do better or what you wished were different. also tell me if you find the story too long or too short.. Also write to me if you liked it. My requests are always open (and English is not my first language so don't be mad at me) and if you have any ideas for the future about who I should write please tell me… the topics I will choose by myself unless you have a request for one or two people I will Read everything.. in the next survey I will take a few ideas from the old survey and new ones…. now read and I hope you like it <33

(its a very short one)

aitana is your girlfriend, she is the most tender and sweetest person you have ever met

You know that she would drop everything if you called her and said you weren't feeling well

It was match day. You've been playing for Betis Sevilla since your childhood. It was the game against FC Barcelona. You already knew that you wouldn't have a chance

You're going to play against your girlfriend. You kept your relationship secret long enough until you went on vacation together during the summer break and decided to post a picture together so that everyone knew you were together. Since then, your team has been annoying you and keeps telling you that you are togheter with the best player

Also today they teased you about playing against Aitana, you haven't seen her in a long time, it was already overdue. You both have been very busy lately and have neglected your relationship a little, so you didn't really like the jokes your teammates made

“Can you please stop” you said slightly annoyed and pulled your jersey over your head The jokes will probably never stop

"Aww we're a little baby again today" Paula joked and pinched your cheek lightly. You clicked in annoyance and let Noelia braid your hair. It's a little ritual between you to braid each other's hair

You were all excited to play against Barça again. You finished lacing up your shoes and went into the tunnel. You acted as captains and stood right next to Alexia, the captain of Barça. You cracked your neck one last time before the referee announced it was time to line up

You stood there, gave a little applause and shook hands with your opponents. Aitana took your hand firmly in hers and gave you a little wink, which you accepted with a smile

it was kick-off. The game went well, even though you lost 5-1, you were still proud to be part of this team

//

1-0 Barcelona: Claudia Pina 26‘

2-0 Barcelona: Mariona Caldentey 44‘

2-1 Betis Sevilla: y/n 45‘

3-1 Barcelona: Caroline Graham-hansen 75‘

4-1 Barcelona: Salma Paralluelo 88‘

5-1 Barcelona: Salma Paralluelo 90+1‘

//

Even though you lost so much, you were still proud that the times were so far apart

After the game you all gave each other a handshake

Aitana ran up to you and hugged you tightly. "Hey you were great" she beamed at you with a huge smile

“Thank you aita you were pretty good too” you joked, smelling the sweet smell of her hair once again

"Would you like to come with me? I mean you're in Barcelona and I think your team will be able to do without you for the night or not?" she told you and put her arm around your shoulders to start the way to the cabins

you took a deep breath "okay but only if you cook for me" you raised your hand aitana laughed "sí I'll cook whatever you want" she said laughing and let go of you "well I'll wait for you outside my car" She said as she walked past and you nodded at her

You took a shower and told the coaching team that you would stay with Aitana and fly back alone tomorrow

//

About an hour later you were finished. You said goodbye to your team and headed towards the exit. The evening warmth of Barcelona hit your face. You looked for Aitana's car until she drove close to you

"Hola chica necesitas un conductor?"

She asks laughing and you ironically bump into her car. You walked in. It's been a long time since you looked in her car. After a moment she immediately pounced on you and bit lightly into your neck and cheek. You squealed and tried pushing her away laughing "aita aita stop" you say breathless with laughter

"I missed you so much" she tells you and places kisses on your cheek. You took her hands in yours and gave her a long kiss on the mouth

When you let go she looks at you with her sweet gaze. She licks her lips and blushes with embarrassment. You have kissed so many times but after such a long time it is always unique to kiss her again

"I missed you too" you say and smile slightly, everything is the same as before, her light ponytail, the smell of peppermint toothpaste when you kiss her and the gentle rose scent of her shower gel that is distributed in the air

"Do you want to go I'm pretty hungry" she said and rubbed her stomach lightly. She sometimes behaved like a little baby but that's what you loved about her, her funny faces that she sometimes gave you or she tickled you awake in the morning or crawled under your shirt you loved everything about her

"Yes we can go" you say, laughing slightly and giving her one last little kiss. She drove through the gate. On the car ride, you sang your favorite songs. Her hand didn't leave yours for a second

When you arrived at Aitana's house she opened your door and took your hand to escort you out. She carried your suitcase and looked for her key to the door

“You can take something from me to wear you know where everything is” she says and gave you a kiss before disappearing into the kitchen

You went into her bedroom and the smell of freshly washed laundry from her laundry basket immediately hit your nose. You did a little tidying up and taught the basket and carefully placed everything in your closet and looked for something to wear yourself You decided on a loose shirt and shorts. You changed your clothes and saw your selfie together in a frame on her dessert. A smile immediately came to your face you loved this woman.

You went into the kitchen and the smell of fresh ham hit your nose. You watched Aitana for a moment until you walked up to her and hugged her tenderly from behind. "Ay baby you're wearing my favorite shirt" she said, laughing slightly and frying a few tortillas in the pan you place your head on her shoulder and place small kisses on her neck

"can you promise me no matter how long we don't see each other or neglect each other that you'll never leave me" You say lovingly and notice how Aitana's stomach falls and rises

"I'll stay with you until you can't stand me anymore and even then I won't let you go you won't get rid of me that easily" she says with a slight smile

you beam across both cheeks "I love you Aita" you whisper in her ear

"I love you too cariño"

[squirrellypoo]

I sewed a Wolfkiller Cloak!

I have been a fan of Lestat's Wolfkiller Cloak for 30 years(!!) so when it made a surprise appearance in season 2 of Interview with the Vampire I just knew I would be sewing one for myself.

It looks incredible in the show, but then we also got to see more of it in better lighting during the short, behind the scenes "Episode Insider" for the episode. Essentially, this is a calf-length, blood-red velvet cape with an additional, elbow-length capelet on top, and a fur-lined hood.

But having made capes in the past, I realised that they are really impractical to wear due to limited arm mobility and having either your arms or body freeze through the openings.

So instead of sewing exactly what I saw on screen, I realised I could instead sew a swing coat + little capelet on top with fur-lined hood! And even better - make the capelet removable via hooks at the neckline so that they could be worn together or separately. This was a Eureka! moment for me. I wanted to make something that is somewhat authentic to the look of the original, but also practical to wear as an every day winter coat!

After quite a few muslins, I settled on the Charm Patterns Swing Coat (with some modified sleeves), and a self-drafted capelet (similar to my earlier cape from Claudia S1 NYE look) with a fur-lined hood. I drafted the hood pieces so that the fur lining is longer and wraps around the opening edge. This makes the fur more visible when its down around the shoulders, as in the show.

I used 5m of burgundy velvet and 0.5 m of Arctic Grey Wolf faux fur from CRS Fabrics (UK) - the fur itself was £60/m(!!) so I'm extremely pleased the show version wasn't entirely lined in fur like the book description (scroll down for more on that!). I underlined it for warmth using cotton flannel to block the wind, and found an incredible dark grey skull jacquard lining fabric at Mood Fabrics (US).

The swing coat pattern only has one button at the neck, so I made it count! I found the most perfect wolf head button on ebay and adjusted my bound buttonhole accordingly, but it really is the best statement button I could've ever asked for! The rest of the front opening is closed with enamel hooks and hidden thread bars to not distract from the clean lines when worn open.

In all, this took me about 6 weeks to sew and I am SO chuffed with how it turned out. I usually only take daytime photos for my sewing in order to best show off the details and seamlines, but for this I couldn't resist an additional nighttime shoot, too.

Even better - after I posted it to Instagram, the costume designer for the show, Carol Cutshall, not only said she loves it, but revealed a new piece of iwtv lore - they originally tried the cloak entirely lined in fur, but it was too heavy for Sam to move in!! (Which I can totally believe because mine is super heavy even with a lightweight lining!)

[gildatheplant]

Santiago and his relationship with Armand

OK so I actually wrote most of this as tags to a post that compared Santiago mocking Louis in the restaurant with Louis mocking Santiago after he set the theatre on fire, but I realized I wanted to expand on the idea.

Basically, I had always interpreted Santiago's hatred of Louis as jealousy over him 'stealing' Armand (both in the book and in the show). An interview with Ben Daniels confirmed that while Santiago was initially written as straight, Ben felt the only way Santiago would so viciously hate Louis was if he was in love with Armand. However, in the same interview he also said that Santiago had been in love with his maker, and his jealousy of Louis and conflict over Armand killing his maker made him want to destroy Louis.

After reading this, I was more than a little confused: if Santiago loved his maker, how could he fall in love with Armand?

Then I saw the gifset and was reminded of this moment-

Louis mocks Santiago about his maker's disdain for him, and how his maker abandoned him shortly after he turned him. Santiago loved his maker, but his maker did not love him back.

Now, we aren't given any timeline of events in terms of when Santiago is made, when he joins the Coven and when Armand kills his maker, but I think it's safe to assume it all happens not long after he was turned. So we have fledgling Santiago, bitterly in love with a maker who disdains him, meeting the beautiful and powerful Armand. Armand welcomes him into the Coven, gives him the opportunity to return to his theatrical career, and kills the maker that wounded Santiago's pride and heart. From that perspective, Armand must have seemed like an avenging angel to Santiago- of course he'd fall in love.

For years, Santiago forges his way up the ranks of the Coven, serving Armand and becoming his right hand man and star of the show. The other vampires of the coven practically throw themselves at him, some of the women literally fighting each other over him...but his heart belongs to Armand.

Then Louis and Claudia come into town, and Armand's attention leaves him for this beautiful man that Santiago can't help feeling attracted to too. And Armand lets this newcomer do pretty much whatever he wants, making the execution of Santiago's maker suddenly seem a lot less fair... yet Armand is still the one responsible for pretty much all the opportunities and good things in Santiago's life, and he's still the one Santiago loves and wants above all others.

Just look at his reaction to seeing Armand's photo in Louis' apartment-

There's no anger there, no hate. He's in love. And he wants Armand back.

Santiago must've been thrilled when Armand seemingly changed his mind about Louis and Claudia and agreed to punish them for their "crimes". I suspect, though this is only hinted at in the show, that after the trial, Armand regrets choosing the coven and allows himself to be overthrown by Santiago (Celeste is overheard by Louis saying that Armand was overthrown and there's no reason to doubt her at this point). Now Santiago has (he thinks) everything he wants: leadership of the coven, his rival dead, and Armand seemingly broken and at his mercy. When we see him watching Armand bow his head to him and slip into his coffin, Santiago stares at him with naked hunger, completely ignoring Celeste hanging off his arm.

He thinks it's only a matter of time before Armand will become his lover once more. Instead, Armand frees Louis and allows him to destroy Santiago's world.

[nburkhardt]

I got a scene in my head and now it’s gotta be something.

Claudia Henderson took one look at Steve Harrington and decided he is hers. She looked at her Dusty and saw a matching determination and that was all it took.

In no time their guest bedroom is cleared out to only the essentials; a bed, nightstand, dresser and a desk. The closet gutted of the extra linen and other random things she stuffed in it. It’s a clean slate and perfect for her boy.

It does take her and Dusty a bit to get Steve comfortable enough to just have dinner and “Oh it’s too late for you to drive home, you can sleep here tonight, sweetie. It’s no trouble!” A few times and for her to convince him to bring over a few sets of clothes because “it’ll be easier to leave in the mornings you stay over, honey!” After another month of weekly dinners.

After only a few months of knowing this sweet boy, she sits him down one night while Dustin is in his bedroom for the night. She smiles at him, “Stevie, sweetie, I have something to want to ask you”

She knows it makes him freeze, sees it clear as day on his face. It makes her question yet again how his parents treated him, but instead of thinking of them she reaches over and squeezes his knee before grabbing his hand that’s been gripping his leg, “Nothing bad, I promise. There’s just something I’ve wanted to ask since the first day I met you. The minute I saw you, you’ve been my baby.” Her smile is watery, as his eyes widen.

“I didn’t want to scare you, but I really do see you as my son and since it’s been some time and you already have your room, I was thinking you move in, permanently.”

Steve’s eyes are glassy as his mouth drops, “Mrs. Henderson,” he grips her hand and blinks at her, it makes her shake her head amused at the name. Knowing he’s been unknowingly calling her Ma for a week now.

“It’s Ma, and you know it baby.” She gripped his hand back, “I love you Steve, and you belong here with me and Dusty.”

The only words to describe Steve right now is amazed and just well loved. He’s speechless and all he can do is nod as the tears finally break through and roll down his cheeks as he laughs breathlessly while falling into a hug.

— — line break — —

Two years, Starcourt burning down and a massive earthquake later and Steve has been a Henderson in everything but blood.

He packed up the last of his things and stared at his empty room in the quiet and lonely Harrington House before officially leaving that behind him. Since he never head from his parents, he didn’t bother contacting them. He’s technically an adult, he doesn’t need to speak to them.

There was no note left behind either.

Just shut all the lights off, left the keys on the kitchen table and walked away with the last of his things before getting in his car and driving to his home.

And he hasn’t heard from them since. Not that he cares much, he’s accepted that they left him and decided to never contact him.

He raised himself before Ma came along.

“Get outta here, Ma!” He laughs as he lightly pushes her out of the kitchen, “I promise I won’t burn down the kitchen! It was once and I’ve gotten better! You relax, I got dinner tonight!”

She laughs, rolls her eyes as well with a smile, “Honey, it’s okay, I-”

A knock interrupts her, they both look at the door. Twin confused looks on their faces, they look back at each other before Steve drops his arms and moves towards the door.

“You expecting anyone Ma?” He says as he unlocks the door, “I know I’m not” As he pulls open the door, his voices drops as he registers who he’s looking at.

Standing on their porch, in fancy clothes with looks of disappointment and anger on their faces is two people Steve hasn’t seen in years.

“Steven Harrington, why did I have to find out from our neighbors that you moved? How come when we get home not only is it true but you let the house go! The yard is a mess, the pool empty and your room is completely empty!” Cathleen Harrington crosses her arms with disbelief, “this is no way to act, mister”

Steve blinks at her, glances at his fath- at Richard Harrington and sees disinterest and anger on his face. Then he looks back at Cathleen, at his birth mother, and no longer feels anything towards them.

“I’m not trying to act, I moved to be with my family, be with people who wanted me. So I really don’t care how that house looks, and you found out from neighbors because why should I contact you? You never contacted me” he spits out bitterly, refusing to match their crossed arms.

Cathleen gasps and her eyes widen, before anger comes back in seconds, her eyes glaring. “That is no way to speak to your mother, Steven!”

“You’re NOT my mother,” he glared fiercely back, “You left me, you abandoned me! I was your child and you never came home.” He spat at them, “You have no right to call yourself my mother.”

He doesn’t bother waiting for them to say anything back before closing the door and taking a deep breath. Flinching when he feels Ma’s hand take his and pulls him towards her and into a hug, his arms automatically curling around her. Hiding his head in her shoulder as the realization of relief rushes in him.

“Oh baby, I’m so proud of you” she whispers to him, squeezing him.

“I love you Ma, thank you for wanting me”

She shakes her head, her eyes watering as she pulls away to press her lips gently against his forehead, “no no, Stevie, thank you for being my baby. I love you so much, baby”

What do you mean I decided to write this based off a passing thought of the Harringtons to find out their house is not being used, that I was in the middle of working and went “that’s gotta be written!!” And proceeded to write how Claudia basically kidnapped Steve??? That definitely didn’t just happen. Anyway, I know like two people will read this (my loves I see you) and I think I’m rambling. I’m a tiny bit high.

Hope this was entertaining and not rambling. I’m not doubling checking any typos so if you spot them, no you didn’t 😡

Permanent taglist!

@strangersteddierthings @spectrum-spectre @sunnythespookyghost @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon

[toomuchracket]

fourth of july (politician!matty x reader smut)

another summer75 fic. warnings for shibari (light) and breeding kink (HEAVY). bon appetit <3

“you're sure you don't need anything else, ma'am?”

“thanks, claudia, but we're all good,” you smile at your assistant, her eyes flitting between the windows (and the party on the lawn outside) and you. “it's been a busy morning - i think you should go and relax, do some celebrating of your own, yeah?”

her eyes light up. “really?”

you laugh. “of course. just, piece of advice? don't drink anything anyone tries to serve you from a fishbowl tonight,” you grimace, shaking your head. “too many 5th of julys have been ruined for me that way. and for the president, actually, he was so much worse than i was at parties. stupid boy.”

claudia giggles. “noted, ma'am. i'll be sure to have a glass of water after every drink, too.”

“smart girl. well, i'll leave you to it,” you stretch, moving to close the door to the presidential living quarters. “have a good weekend!”

“and you, ma'am!”

closing the door behind you, you wander through towards your bedroom. aside from the sound of your husband humming to himself in there, the place is quiet, only the two of you around.

just how you like it.

you smile as you enter your bedroom, ogling matty as he pulls his shirt over his head. his hands move to his belt, but he stops his undressing in favour of walking towards you with love in his eyes and a grin on his lips; you pretend to sulk, but open your arms anyway. “damn, i was enjoying the show.”

“of course you were,” matty kisses your forehead, pulling back to arm's length to look at you. “i don't look half as good as you do, though. i love that dress, baby.”

“i thought it was pretty,” you clasp your hands behind matty's neck, and his find home on your hips. “it's really uncomfortable, though.”

it's a blatant lie, and you're sure you aren't being very subtle, but matty has the good grace to play along anyway. “is that right, my love?” he coos, hands moving across your back to undo the halter neck “well, we'd better take it off, then.”

“fabulous idea, mr. president,” you snuggle into him, sighing when the fabric of your dress falls to the ground and your bare chests press together. matty's arms wrap tightly around you, and the feeling of home washes over you. the two of you hug in comfortable silence for a second, your fingers gently twisting into your husband's curls, before you speak softly. “m'really proud of you, you know. it was a good morning. and i know you were reluctant to host anything today, but… i'm glad you did. it was fun.”

matty huffs out a laugh into your hair. “was only reluctant because it cut short our usual long weekend plans. and you know how much i love those.”

his hands travel towards your ass, sliding under the waistband of your thong to squeeze it; you giggle softly in response, pressing a long kiss to your husband's neck and enjoying the moan he lets out. “sometimes i wonder if you'll ever get bored of driving to the cabin whenever we get a few days off.”

“if we ever get rid of the shibari rigging hooks, i might.”

“as if we'd do that. be serious, please, matthew.”

matty laughs, scooping you up and dropping you onto the bed. “i love you, my perfect little rope bunny. and wife, obvs.”

“love you too. i also love that you've got your priorities straight,” you bite your lip as you watch matty undo his trousers, leaning up to kiss him messily as he crawls up to hover over you. it's a good kiss, sloppy and passionate, one that goes straight to your underwear and prevents your brain from thinking about anything other than matty inside you. “fuck, baby. tie me up now, please? we still have,” you glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. “two hours before we need to start driving. pleeeeeeease?”

matty simply raises a brow.

you pout, batting your lashes. “come on, baby, please? just a little design? a little preview for the rest of the weekend?” you wrap your legs around his waist, smiling prettily the way you've done to get whatever you want from matty since you were twenty-two. “because you love me?”

at that, your husband sighs, nodding and trying to keep the smile from his face. sap. “legs only, alright? just because i love you.”

“mhmm,” you take his face in your hands and pull him in for a kiss, smiling at the way he melts against you. “thank you, my love.”

“sweet girl,” matty strokes your cheek, before moving off you and reaching to pull a box from under the bed; inside, you see pink rope neatly arranged in loops of figure eights. your heart leaps and core gushes at the sight, but matty makes a face at it. “not very patriotic colour-wise, is it?”

“pretty sure the amount of time i'm gonna spend on my knees worshipping you this weekend will make up for that, mr. president.”

“fuck. underwear off, now,” your husband quickly takes two separate loops of rope from the box, twisting them into position while you shimmy your thong and lie down, practically vibrating with happy anticipation. “and speaking of knees - bend them for me, darling, that's it. tell me if it's too uncomfortable, yeah?”

“i will.”

“good girl.”

with that, he begins to loop the rope around your left thigh and shin, securing them together with an intricate pattern you hope to god will leave a mark on your skin. you can't remember whether it was you or matty who first suggested trying shibari a decade or so ago, but you both took to it with enthusiasm - since then, every extended private moment you've had together has involved some sort of artistic bondage, exploring new designs and positions and making each other feel good. the rope took a bit of getting used to, initially, but now you love the feeling of it against your bare skin; it's a reminder that, for at least the next few hours in your busy lives, it's just you and matty, alone together, getting to love and appreciate and care for each other at the most primal, most intimate level.

once he's done, matty taps your bound knee. he moves back, smiling at his handiwork. “that feel alright, gorgeous?”

“yeah. thank you, angel.”

he blushes, and your heart flutters. “you're welcome, my darling. gonna do the other one now, yeah?”

“go ahead.”

the two of you settle back into comfortable silence, matty continuing his work while you smile at the way his tongue pokes out of his lips in concentration, one of the things that first endeared him to you when you met at law school. suddenly, those lips part as he speaks. “isn't it funny how many people just, like, handed their babies to us at the garden party this morning?”

your brow furrows slightly. interesting topic of conversation. “happens to me quite a lot, to be honest.”

“yeah, i've noticed. s'happened eighteen times to you in the past week alone.”

your brow furrows further. “you've been counting?”

matty's cheeks go pink again. “well… not deliberately, darling, i just,” he sighs, finishing off the shibari and sitting back on his heels to look at you sheepishly. “i can't help but notice when you're interacting with babies at the minute. like, i really can't.”

oh. how interesting. and, if you're honest, not entirely unwelcome. you smile. “you think it's time?”

his eyes widen. “for… for us to-?” he clears his throat. “for us to… have a baby of our own?”

“yeah, sweetheart,” you reach up to caress his face, smiling softly at the way matty leans into your hand. “do you think now’s the time?”

“well… yeah.”

you smirk, removing your hand from your husband's face so you can use it to pull your bent legs open as wide as possible and expose your glistening cunt. “let's make a baby, then.”

matty blinks. suddenly, your instructions seem to sink in, and he follows, not even bothering to take his boxers off fully before sliding through your wetness and pushing inside you; his lips meet yours as he bottoms out, the two of you sighing into each other's mouths.

home at last.

for a moment, there's nothing but the two of you kissing like teenagers, passionate and messy and desperate, matty throbbing inside you in the most delicious way, and then he moves, pulls his hips back and snaps them forward again, over and over and over, drawing soft moans from your lips every time he slides in. a huge part of the reason matty was elected, everyone says, is because he does everything with focus and conviction - the way he fucks is no different.

he pulls back from your lips, resting your foreheads together in the most tender way and sliding his hands over yours against the pillow; when you intertwine your fingers, he smiles. “sweet girl, taking me so fucking well.”

“your sweet girl.”

“that's right. my girl, all mine,” matty beams. something about the ownership reminder spurs him on, makes him thrust faster and harder and deeper into you. you whimper his name, and he kisses your nose. “what is it, darling? need me to fill you up, is that it? put my baby in you and let everyone know you're mine?”

the words go straight to your cunt, brain too hazy with pleasure to properly take them in. “please.”

“cum for me first, sweetheart, and i will,” he coos, stroking your face and dropping a sweet kiss onto your nose. “touch that pretty clit for me, yeah? and then i'll fill up that needy little pussy of yours. promise.”

“okay,” you exhale, hand sliding down your sweat-shiny chest and between your legs, circling your aching clit the way you know matty would. ecstasy shoots through your body the instant you touch the bundle of nerves, causing you to whine and clench around your husband's dick - which in turn makes him whine - but, somehow, it isn't enough. “matty,” you croak out, blinking up at him. “need you to talk to me. please.”

“oh, my darling,” matty grins, not unkindly. “need me to tell you how good you feel, how much i love how fucking tight your cunt is? even after all this time, after all the pounding i've given you, she's still clenching around me like a fucking vice. could stay inside you forever, you know. wanna do that. i think you want me to, as well, don't you, gorgeous? feels like it, anyway.”

the pleasure's practically blinding you at this point, tightening your muscles and clouding your mind - all you can do is frantically rub your clit, and whimper. “yeah, yeah, want you in me all the time.”

“needy girl,” matty's lips crash onto yours, tongue licking into your mouth before he murmurs against you. “can't fucking wait to fill you up properly, sweetheart. please tell me you're close.”

“i am, oh shit, i am!” you aren't lying, either - your legs are quivering as much as they can within the rope, and the pressure building in your lower stomach feels like it's about to reach breaking point. you're vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face and pooling on your chest, but all you can focus on right now is matty. “gonna cum, please, please let me cum.”

your husband leans forward, cock driving impossibly deep and lips ghosting over your ear. “do it, my darling. cum for me, let me give you a baby. our baby.”

and that's all it takes.

you cling to matty like a liferaft as your orgasm hits, although the more accurate nautical metaphor would be to liken him to an anchor; without him above you, hands digging into the flesh of your legs almost as much as the rope, you're certain you'd float away, buoyant from sheer fucking ecstasy. he cums with a guttural moan of your name as you clench around him, kissing you deeply as his thrusts get more and more shallow, and you don't think you've ever been more full, metaphorically (of love) and literally (of cum, crass as it sounds). once he's done, your husband nuzzles into the crook of your neck, both of you sweaty and breathing heavily.

for a few blissful minutes, you stay like that, weaving a hand into matty's messy curls and scratching his scalp while you exchange murmured “i love you”s. your eyes flick sideways to the alarm clock, and you tap his shoulder in a feeble attempt to get him to move. “sweetheart, we need to get cleaned up before we leave.”

“just give it another minute or two, darling,” matty mumbles into your skin; he pulls himself up just enough to kiss you, looking adoringly into your eyes. “have to make sure the baby sticks, after all.”

you giggle, stroking his flushed face with your thumb. “we'll miss seeing the fireworks from the cabin if we don't get a move on, though.”

“trust me, my love, you'll get your fireworks this weekend no matter when we leave.”

“whatever you say, mr. president.”

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

i love your donnaxreader oneshots 🥲❤️‍🩹 may i request some angst?

the reader has been friends with Donna since childhood, and they're so close that they know each other's deepest secrets. when donna's parents die, the reader tries to stay with her but her family forbids her to do so, and donna ends up all alone.

not knowing her reasons, donna kept to herself all those years despite wanting to reach out to reader. donna's in love with her still, she never did forget her.

fast forward years later, donna went to the duke's to buy expensive pieces of cloth for her dolls, you know, the usual. but that time, reader was there too and donna grabbed the opportunity to talk to her.

when they chatted, donna was caught off-guard having found out reader was getting married to someone else soon.

donna doesn't want that, so, ehem, smut happens. but make it fluffy thoughhh and like donna was so gentle to reader because she doesn't want to hurt her, yet she's very possessive because she doesn't want reader to leave her for the second time.

please, make it happy ending 🥲

Yessss!!!! Thank you for your words and for your request!!! I'm sorry, I think it's maybe too long :S I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

Come back to me

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader

Warnings: smut, Minors DNI, angst, fluff, happy ending

Word count: 9,422 (Again, I'm sorry for it being too long)

Summary:  After 18 years, she came back to you...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

“Look at me! I'm the undisputed queen of the place!” you said amused, dangerously climbing a tree.

“(Y/N), Get… Get down from there, you, you'll hurt yourself,” your friend said, holding her doll in an adorable way, looking at you worriedly.

“I'm invincible, Donna, didn't you know that? I'm… Ah!” you said embarrassedly, interrupted by a branch that creaked under your feet, making you fall into the snow and proving your best friend right.

“So… Invincible, huh?” she said, looking down at you with a mocking smile, extending a hand to help you up.

You took it and brushed the snow off your dress, with a bright blush on your cheeks.

“I'm sure the tree was bewitched by the enemy…” you murmured, making your friend laugh amusedly, shaking her head.

You had always heard that village was the least suitable place for a ten-year-old girl like you, but you never found a reason to take that mantra for granted.

Daughter of farmers, from a family devoted to Mother Miranda, the Black Gods and the three Lords, your life had not been very different from that of the rest of the children of your age. But, by chance, one day you went into the forest, due to your constant thirst for adventure, meeting the one who would be your best friend forever, Donna Beneviento.

She was two years older than you, but she was completely alone. Her family was important in the village, the makers of those porcelain dolls that even you had. Even so, her daughter was a complete mystery.

Rumors said she had been born with a deformity, that she had two faces, four arms, absurd legends. Donna was a normal girl, with the only flaw being the lack of her right eye, according to what she told you, due to an accident.

Her family seemed to be cursed, even her little sister, Claudia, passed away a couple of years ago due to a strange illness.

There were no secrets between you, even when you were younger, you forged a bond that you thought was inseparable. You dared to leave aside your friends from the village, those boring and normal children, to cross that dangerous bridge and spend afternoons and afternoons with your friend Donna, with your best friend.

Your parents did not look favorably on that friendship, since they were convinced that poor girl was mentally ill. It could be true, you checked it several times, you knew that the doll that her father made her, Angie, was her only means of communication with others, well, with anyone other than you.

But after checking that every night you came back safe and sound, they decided to stop worrying about you, at least not that much.

“One day you're going to hurt yourself, (Y/N)…” the young Beneviento sighed, shaking her head. “I, I wouldn't like anything to happen to you.”

“Nothing will happen to me,” you said, calmer, rubbing your back due to that resounding fall. “What do you say, Angie?” you asked amused, looking at the doll that Donna was holding, her most faithful companion.

“Sure, (Y/N) is invincible!” Donna replied in a squeaky voice, pretending to speak for the doll, pretending that the two of them were completely different, something that fascinated you.

“See?” you said in an amused whisper, approaching a small cliff, which bordered Donna's family's land. “Come on, Donna, let's play to see who can throw the rocks the farthest.”

“It's, it's dangerous,” the young girl murmured, hiding her fear behind Angie, approaching you with an unsure step. You scolded and made a gesture with your hand to downplay it, throwing the first rock.

“Look, Donna, look how far I threw it,” you said excitedly, comically hitting the shoulder of the older girl, who smiled shyly, bending down to get another rock.

“I think I won,” she said satisfied, thus beginning another of your usual competitions.

“We'll see about that,” you challenged, putting all your strength into that childish rock throwing, thus spending another fun time, another day that was supposed to be boring.

“Hey, (Y/N)…” Beneviento murmured, with a more serious tone “What, what are you going to do when you're older?”

“Oh, well…” you sighed, a bit confused by that question. “My parents say that I'll have to get married and… Well, I guess I'll follow the family tradition and take care of the farm.”

Donna opened her mouth moving her doll and nodded, sighing in a melancholic way.

“What about you?” you asked, relaxing your throwing and sitting on the ground, where your friend joined you. “I guess you won't have to work, right? Your parents have a lot of money.”

“My father is teaching me to make dolls like him,” the brunette explained, playing with a bunch of grass that the snow took pity on. “He says that when I grow up, I will take his place.”

“Oh…”you said, open-mouthed, listening attentively to your friend, who seemed increasingly sad. “How cool, so you can continue living in that big house.”

“I, I don't think it's cool, (Y/N)…” she murmured, with some resentment in her voice, stopping moving the doll, as if she didn't even want to include it in the conversation.

“Your house is amazing, and it has a very cool waterfall, we could play throwing ourselves down it,” you said amused, giving her a little nudge.

“We would die horribly, (Y/N),” she answered with a dark voice. “I, I don't know, if, if I could, I would… I would leave this village.”

“The village? Why?” you asked a bit surprised. You had always known that world. You didn't seem as uncomfortable as your friend living there.

“Everyone in the village thinks that… That I'm a monster… I, I'd like to wake up one day and see… The, the sun shining on the horizon and… Hear the, the sea waves,” she said, as if she wasn't talking to you, but to herself.

“You're not a monster, you're my friend,” you said, saddened by those words. “Hey, you, you're Italian, aren't you?”

She nodded slowly, holding back a sob.

“My, my family is Italian,” she whispered, angrily pulling out several of those herbs.

“That, that's great because, because there's sun there, and it has a lot of sea…” you said trying to cheer her up, trying to keep her from being taken away by her demons again. “I'm sure that when you're older, you'll have so much money that you'll be able to go wherever you want.”

“I don't know but… But I'd be alone again,” she said, looking at the ground again. You answered her with a smile and a bright face, getting up from the snow.

“Okay, would you take me with you?”  you asked with a satisfied voice. “That way you wouldn't be alone.”

Donna stood up too, with a distrustful look, hugging the doll.

“Would you... Would you want to come with me?” Donna asked unsure, with a shy smile forming on her face.

“Of course, you're my friend, I would never leave you alone,” you said, nodding. She laughed happily and nodded enthusiastically.

“Really?” she asked, getting a little closer to you. “I would love to take you with me everywhere. Sure, it’s going to be quite funny.”

“Yes, we could play pirates in the sea and... And we could have everything we wanted. It would be great,” you fantasized, moving your arms in an exaggerated way.

“Yes, I... It would be great...” the young girl said, in a small voice.

“Mistress, Mistress Donna!” a male voice interrupted that endearing moment.

Josef, the family gardener ran towards you. He seemed nervous, upset, panting and putting his hands on your friend's shoulders.

“Josef, what's wrong? It's not dinner time yet,” Donna protested, speaking, as always, through her doll.

“Mistress Donna, I... I'm, I'm so sorry... Your, your parents have... They have...” the man said, bending down in front of the little girl, looking at her with deep sadness.

“My parents? What's wrong with them?” the doll asked.

The man looked at you and growled, looking back at his young mistress.

“Gods, Donna... They, they have...” he whispered, giving her the worst news she could have.

Totally unexpectedly, confirming the rumors of that cursed family, Lord and Lady Beneviento had decided to end their lives, throwing themselves down the estate's waterfall.

Poor Donna was left in shock, looking at the ground as the three of you returned to the house, while the gardener tried by all means to cheer up the young girl, without success.

You didn't know what to say, and you didn't want to either.

Your friend sobbed, hugging Angie in that gloomy mansion while Josef did what he could to comfort her.

“Why did they do it?” she sighed through tears, looking at you, who discreetly put a hand on her back, trying not to cry too. “Why, (Y/N)?”

“I, I don't know, Donna,” you whispered in a small voice, lost in your friend's sadness, guilty for having said that waterfall was the coolest thing in the world.

 “I know, I'm sure it was my fault... They, they hated me,” the young Beneviento sobbed, leaning on your shoulder, pulling on your clothes desperately. “They hated me because I wasn't as perfect as Claudia.”

“Don't say that, Mistress,” -the gardener intervened, separating her from you so she wouldn't accidentally hurt you. “Your parents loved you very much.”

“Now, now I'm alone,” she murmured after a few moments of heartbreaking crying. That was a good time to do something for her. “They've left me alone...”

“You're not alone, Donna, I'm here with you,” you said with a voice more mature than your age indicated, with the tireless desire to make her feel good, to see a smile on your best friend's face again.

The clock struck the time in a sinister way. You couldn't miss dinner, your parents would be angry.

“You’re going to leave me too,” the girl whispered, hugging her doll and moving away from your comfort.

“No, I will never leave you,” you said in a firm voice. “Now, now I have to go but, but I promise you that tomorrow I will come to see you, and the day after, and the next day too, every day.”

“Really?” Donna asked, with tears in her only eye, with the hope of her soul still burning. “Will you come every day?”

“Yes, yes every day, every day. I told you that I would never leave you alone,” you repeated excited to be able to see some light in her eye.

“Promise me,” she said, now with a voice that emanated a deep darkness. “You have to promise me.”

“I promise you,” you said smiling, hugging your best friend for the last time, leaving her alone in her pain.

“Come on, little one…” Josef said, putting a hand on your back to guide you towards the door, leaving Donna crying inconsolably again. “Mistress Donna is very lucky to have you, (Y/N).”

“She is my best friend, sir,” you murmured, taking one last look at that mess of tears and increasingly unhinged screams.

You didn't know it, but that would be the last time you would see her, the last time you would walk through those woods.

“Mm, it was to be expected,” your father murmured during dinner. “Those two freaks…”

“Poor girl…” your mother sighed, of course, joining your father's monologue about what had happened. “First it was her sister and then…”

“Don't pity her, Rose, I've always told you that family is cursed,” the man interrupted.

You didn't say anything. You just looked at your food, not hungry, not wanting to do anything other than being with your friend in those horrible moments.

“Let's hope the Black Gods take pity on their souls,” your mother said in a solemn tone, joining her hands to emphasize her devotion.

“Nonsense, those Beneviento have never had the favor of the Gods, I’m sure, I knew Giuseppe,” your father said, remembering that brief friendship with the family patriarch, that conversation he had with him the day you got lost in the woods and met Donna.

“You only spoke to him once, Dimitri,” your mother corrected, always being a little more sensible.

“Enough to realize that he was totally out of his mind,” he said, haughtily, drinking from his glass of wine. “And the same will happen to his daughter, you'll see…”

“Where are you going, (Y/N)?” your father asked when you, fed up with that horrible conversation, got up from the table. “You haven't had dinner.”

“I'm not hungry, father,” you whispered, with a tear in your eyes threatening to betray your sadness.

That night, you could only think about Donna, only about her sad look, about her desire to be better than her parents, to leave the village, a feeling she had and you didn't. Maybe if you hadn't distracted her, they could... No, you couldn't think that way. At that moment the most important thing was to take care of her, to keep your promise.

“I'll come at dinner time,” you said the next day, picking up your backpack, ready to see your friend, to spend the day with her, something that normally wasn't a problem for your parents. That day, the smiles turned into silence.

“Hey, hey, young lady, where do you think you're going?” your father asked, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Donna's house, father,” you said sincerely. He put on a cold look and shook his head.

“No, no way, (Y/N),” he said in a stern voice, closing the door with a loud bang. “You will not go to that house again.”

“But, but father...” you protested incredulously at that strange attitude.

“Don't protest, young lady. I forbid it,” he insisted, abruptly removing your backpack from your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

“Dimitri, what harm can a little company do to that poor girl?” your mother protested, unsuccessfully trying to change his mind.

“That little nutcase brat doesn't worry me, I worry about (Y/N), what will happen if she loses her mind and hurts her?” your father said, raising his tone.

“She won't hurt me, father, she's my friend!” you shrieked in a childish way, desperate for that unexpected prohibition. –

“Your friend? Ha, she's a crazy, sick girl and she's not a good company for you,” he said, with a slightly calmer tone.

“Come on, darling, they've been friends for a long time and they've never…” your mother said, discreetly taking your side.

“Her parents didn't seem to pose any threat either, did they Rose? And look where they are now, at the bottom of the river. No, no, those things are inherited and I'm not going to allow that brat to hurt our daughter.”

“But father, I promised her, I promised her that I would be with her!” you protested again.

“There's nothing to say, (Y/N), forget about that Beneviento and start being what is expected of you,” your father whispered, moving away from you.

“Mom…” you whispered, pulling at your mother's dress.

She sighed and shook her head, with a different look.

“I'm sorry, (Y/N), but your father is right. That girl is not right in the head, honey…” your mother said, making you open your eyes in surprise at that change of mind.

“She is not right because she is alone, she needs me,” you pleaded, with tears already running down your cheeks.

“Nonsense,” your father muttered, ending that conversation, the worst of your life. “What she needs is to be locked up with that horrible doll. I'm not going to argue anymore, (Y/N), obey or there will be consequences.”

You couldn't do anything. It didn't matter how many times you cried, how many times you screamed, how many slaps you received for your insistence. You couldn't keep your promise.

Donna was left alone, you stopped being her friend involuntarily, forced to be with your mother and learn things that a good villager should know. You didn't want to play with anyone, the excitement typical of a girl your age faded after a few days, when you realized that, in truth, you would never see your friend again.

But you saw her, years later.

Accustomed to the idea of ​​having lost her, your life continued. You continued to grow. You continued to make your parents proud. Only an old photograph, taken by the old gardener, reminded you that you once had a friend, the best friend, and that you, you had failed her.

Being already a teenager, you discovered something disturbing, something that made you remember again what your sin had been, what had been the promise you could not keep.

Apparently, Mother Miranda had adopted a new daughter, one who would sit next to the rest of the Lords, as powerful as them, as fearsome as them. It didn't seem like something that interested you, until you heard her name: Donna Beneviento.

Your old friend was now in church, dressed entirely in black, with a veil covering her face, always accompanied by Angie, who seemed more alive than before.

She was no longer a child, she was a woman, like you, and you watched her every day, every time there was a mass, every time her dark gaze seemed to penetrate your insides. The years passed like a painful clock that never stopped counting the seconds, the hours that passed since that involuntary betrayal.

You could have apologized. You could have begged her to believe you, to be friends again. You didn't, you couldn't do it.

She was now a Lord, you were still a simple villager. The difference in power was overwhelming. Your attendance at mass was discreet, always trying to escape from her nonexistent gaze, sitting in the back row to avoid being recognized.

You knew she was watching you, you could feel it. But you, you didn't do anything. You didn't feel strong enough to do it, you felt ashamed, hurt for not being there for her when she needed you. The reasons didn't matter, what mattered was that you were her only friend, and you left her alone.

That shame for your past mistakes haunted you every day, every time you saw her black figure, her elegant walk, every time Donna Beneviento was present and you pretended not to be.

18 years after the fall of Beneviento…

“Don't let him fool you, (Y/N),” your tired mother said, sending you on errands as usual. You rolled your eyes and smiled, shaking your head.

“Not even someone like the Duke would be able to fool me,” you joked, picking up the list of items your parents wanted, frowning when you read one of them. “White fabric with ruffles? Mom…”

“It's the best, you'll look beautiful with that,” the woman said, with a tender smile, running her hand over your cheek, which you pushed away when you remembered the only thing you tried to forget day by day and that was getting closer and closer.

“I'd be prettier if you'd just leave me alone,” you hissed furiously, changing your happy face to a dark one, to one that indicated that your stomach was turning at the thought of it.

“It's for your own sake, darling, for the sake of...” she said, knowing that this horrible decision didn't make you the slightest bit happy.

“Yes, yes... For the sake of the family, I know,” you whispered with irony. “Like everything you do, right? It's all for my own sake.”

“(Y/N)...” your mother sighed, with an understanding look.

“Forget it, I have to go,” you said, trying not to argue again, not to make known your opinion about what your family wanted, what they thought, wrongly, was the best for you.

The village had long since ceased to be comfortable for you, a peaceful place to live. With your head now mature, with your feelings constantly battered, you remembered those desires to flee that your old friend had. Now, you understood why she wanted to leave and not look back.

 “(Y/N),” a voice distracted you from your complaints, a girl you knew, and that you didn't want to see.

“Mihaela,” you said listlessly, stopping in your tracks. “I'm a bit busy right now.”

“Yes, well I... I wanted, I wanted you to know that my husband isn't home this afternoon and that... I, I'd like you to come,” she said shyly.

You laughed, thinking about it, but finally, you shook your head.

“I can't go this afternoon,” you lied, fleeing from one of the many sexual encounters you had with the young woman.

“Oh, well, but…” the young woman insisted, getting a little closer to you.

“I said no, I can't,” you said abruptly, regretting it instantly. “We, we'll see each other another day,” you finished, fleeing from the insane obsession that girl had for you.

Yes, you may have been an ordinary village girl, but your tastes were not ordinary. Nothing you could feel was tied to a man. The more you grew, the more your interest in women did, an interest that would be definitive.

You had lovers, one-night stands with girls from the village, but, for some reason, none of them made you feel loved, none of them managed to make you fall in love. Because of the situation you were in, that feeling of helplessness was almost unbearable.

“Miss (Y/N), it's a pleasure to see you in my humble shop,” the village merchant, the Duke said, when you approached that sinister carriage.

You smiled at him in a false way and threw the list at him in an unpleasant way.

“Oh... Very well,” the merchant murmured, looking at you over that sheet of paper. “I suppose you're nervous about the great day, aren't you?”

You laughed mockingly.

“Yes, look at my excited face,” you joked, pointing at yourself. “Do you have it or not?”

“Take a look back there,” he murmured, indicating the back of the carriage, where you walked slowly, running your hand over the fabrics he used to sell that were neither white nor ruffled.

“Oh... Lady Beneviento...” the Duke said, causing you to immediately raise your head and your body to stiffen.

“Duke, Duke!” a shrill voice disturbed your ears. It wasn't Donna's voice, it was… It was Angie's voice.

You, with your whole body trembling, looked out. Indeed, the lady in black was in front of the merchant, holding a rickety Angie in her arms.

It had been so long since you had been so close to her that your first move was to hide, to avoid her seeing you, recognizing you. No, anything before having to face your own betrayal, a Lord, who you knew what she was capable of and who, surely, hated you.

“Do you have fabrics?” Angie asked, with a darker voice.

“Of course I have,” the Duke said, amused. “The best ones for you, my lady.”

“We'll see about that,” the doll mocked in a scornful tone.

The lady began to look around too close to you. Her pale hands gently touched the fabrics on the counter, checking their quality. Your eyes followed them, followed those hands that seemed soft, that delicate touch.

Donna was your friend, you betrayed her. She was your friend and because of you now, now she was... A monster.

“Don't you have anything better?” the puppet asked again, following the gestures of its owner, who was looking at the merchant through that disturbing black veil.

“Try back there,” he said, disinterested, counting a pile of coins that the lady handed him, pointing with his head to the worst possible place, the place where you were.

“Shit,” you whispered, running to hide behind the carriage, with such bad luck that you tripped on one of the Duke's absurd trinkets, crashing to the ground.

A sinister laugh sounded behind you.

“Clumsy, clumsy, clumsy, clumsy village girl,” the Angie doll pointed at you, humming mockingly. You groaned in defeat, trying to get up clumsily.

A hand grabbed your arms, pulling you up. The lavender scent intoxicated your senses and in front of you, you could only see a black figure, Donna. She had helped you up and now, now she was in front of you.

“Th, thanks,” you said, looking away, turning around to flee from that horrible situation. You couldn't, a hand grabbed your arm, preventing you from continuing to walk.

“(Y/N)…” a hoarse whisper came from the black veil, forcing your body to turn slowly, forcing you to lower your gaze further. “Is it…? Is it you?”

“I don't... I think, I think you’ve mistaken me with someone else, my lady,” you said nervously, playing with your gaze not to match hers. Her hand didn't let you go, gently pulling you when you tried to run away again.

“Non mi mentire...” she whispered, with a melodic voice, one that had changed a bit, but was still recognizable, taking you back to your childhood.

“I, I don't lie, my lady,” you said without thinking, closing your eyes for having fallen into that little trap. “Oh, fu...”

“Yes, it's you,” the lady in black whispered, with a slightly happier voice, with a tone a bit higher than a simple and almost inaudible whisper. “You understood me.”

“I... I...” you stammered, unable to flee, to escape, to deny again and again something that she already knew, that it was you, her friend, the friend who betrayed her. “I...”

“(Y/N), don’t, don't you remember me?” she asked out of place, with a tremor in her hand that you already knew.

“I remember you, Donna,” you whispered, embarrassed, looking away from the lady, subtly removing her warm hand from your arms.

“It’s, it's been a long time, hasn't it?” she stammered, with the Angie doll looking at you suspiciously. “How long has it been?”

“18 years,” you whispered, trapped in that horrible conversation, one that you never wanted to have again, that you would never be able to have again.

“Yes, I…” she murmured, nervous, also looking everywhere. “You're always, always so far away in the sermons that… I, I wasn't sure if it was really you.”

“I guess it was me,” you said shyly, with your body shaking at the same time as hers. “I, I'm sorry but… I have things to do and…” you murmured, making a second attempt to flee, one frustrated again by a strong grip on your arm.

“No, no, please don't go,” the lady in black said, approaching you again with a pleading, nervous tone. “Wait, please.”

“Donna I…” you said quietly, repressing a sob, a cry you wanted to release for having met her again and being unable to say anything but vague things. “I, I'm glad to see you but… I have, I have, I have to…”

“Please, (Y/N), it's, it's been so many years,” she insisted, her voice getting weaker. “Don't go away again now that I've found you.”

Well, that was a good argument, which made you sigh, rub your eyes and nod reluctantly.

“Okay, okay,” you whispered, breathing hard, but giving up trying to separate yourself from her, who let you go and started playing with her hands.

“I, I'd like to talk to you... I have, I have a lot of things to tell you...” she sighed, her voice becoming less and less clear, saying with her words what her hidden gaze couldn't. “I know you're busy but please... I...”

“Well, well, I guess it wouldn't be a problem if...” you murmured unsurely, running a hand over your neck, searching for some sanity in your attitude, some of the courage you lacked when you left her alone.

“Ahem,” the Duke interrupted, clearing his throat in an exaggerated way, drawing  your attention.

“I don't think this is the best place for it,” you said with a subtle smile, narrowing your eyes at the merchant, who laughed mockingly.

“No, certo, I... Do you want...? Do you want to come to my house? We can, we can have tea, a real one,” Donna said, clenching her hands tighter, her knuckles white from the pressure.

“Come, come home, silly, you'll have fun…” the doll said, pulling your dress in a comical way, something that made you shudder. That doll was alive, just as the rumors said.

“I… Um… Okay, okay,” you finally said, giving up.

A tender laugh came from that horrible black veil at the same time that the lady turned around, picking up the doll from the ground and leaving the Duke's shop.

The walk was tense, terribly tense. Going through those doors, that bridge, made all the memories of your childhood assault you at the same time. That place didn't seem the same, it seemed much wilder, neglected, surely due to the lack of that gardener, who was rumored to have been murdered by Lady Beneviento.

The weeds covered the gates, the paths, there was nothing left of that cozy atmosphere, of those perfectly cared plants, there was only a landscape that became more gloomy as you advanced, making you even consider running away, fearing that her anger would be directed at you, and rightly so.

The old mansion was still there, just like the rest of the landscape, eaten away by time, by the years, like a reflection of Donna herself, a neglected and dark being, a sinister place for a sinister woman.

“Come, come in,” the woman said, kindly opening the door for you.

The smell of humidity penetrated your nose immediately, a familiar smell enhanced by all those years of neglect. The mansion wasn’t as you remembered it, the curtains prevented the light from illuminating the place, mold grew freely in the corners. Pieces of cloth, disordered books, the house of a sick woman, Donna's house.

“Sorry, (Y/N), this is a bit… Messy,” she said, noticing your pitiful look at that place, how it had changed in your memories. “I, I don’t get many visitors. No visitors, actually.”

“Am I the first?” you asked in a small voice, something that made your friend laugh again, in that shy way you knew.

“Yes, you are,” she said amused, guiding you towards a small corner, the corner where you used to play tea when you were little girls, now covered by that same sinister darkness. “Get, get comfortable, please. I’m going, I’m going to make the tea.”

“Fine,” you sighed, letting yourself fall on the sofa, raising a cloud of dust that made you cough, something that, apparently, amused that sinister doll.

“(Y/N), huh?” the puppet asked, looking at you from too close, making you even more uncomfortable. “I’ve heard a lot of things about you…”

“Have you?” you asked confused, shifting on the couch to get away from that sinister gaze. “It's funny, don't you remember me?”

“You? No,” Angie said simply. “I only see you in Donna's memories.”

“Well, you used to be part of our adventures,” you said, trying by all means to be nice, not to disturb the calm of that demonic doll. Angie simply shrugged.

“Here, here is the tea,” Donna said, appearing shortly after, leaving a tray on the table and sitting in front of you, as she did before.

Everything seemed so the same and so different at the same time that your nerves didn’t allow your hands to stop shaking, bringing your cup to your mouth with distrust.

“Is it to your liking? Is it too hot?” the lady asked, worried when she saw your cold expression. You faked a smile and shook your head.

“It's, it's okay,” you said with another fake smile, leaving the cup back on the table, enduring another moment of uncertain silence, of nervous breathing.

With your hands now free, you looked for something to touch, something to start a conversation that you hoped would end soon.

A porcelain doll, leaning on the side of the sofa, caught your attention and you slowly picked it up, observing every detail.

“I see that you finally followed in your father's footsteps,” you commented quietly, putting that doll back in its place. “I thought you would leave.”

“I couldn't,” she whispered abruptly, clenching her fists again. “When I was old enough I... I wanted to, I wanted to leave but... Mother Miranda took pity on me and adopted me, naming me Lord. Besides, I... I couldn't leave without...  Well, it doesn't matter.”

“I see,” you sighed, increasingly uncomfortable. “Well, Lord sounds much better than doll maker,” you said amused.

“At least now I'm part of something,” Donna said, with a serious tone, as if she was looking away, something that made you notice her black veil again.

“Why are you covering your face?” you asked suddenly, wanting to satisfy the curiosity that contradicted your desire to leave that place. “There's nothing wrong with not having an…”

Donna sighed, lowering her head and bringing her trembling hands to the black cloth, removing it with an elegant movement.

You were a bit shocked by what you saw. Donna Beneviento had become a really beautiful woman, but that scar, that part of her face she was ashamed of had suffered a horrible transformation, turning into a bulging abscess that covered part of her right side.

“The Black Gods don't give gifts in exchange for nothing, (Y/N),” she murmured, embarrassed by her new appearance, nervously wringing the black cloth in her hands.

“Well, it’s, it's not that bad,” you said, calming an impending nervous breakdown by doing the same thing you did when you were little, pushing away her fears with an amused smile. “Look, you can hardly tell.”

The lady pushed your hands away when they approached her hair, trying to hide her scar under it. You stepped back, biting your lip. It didn't really matter what her appearance was, she was still a terribly beautiful woman.

She smiled more calmly, fixing the hair you moved, shaking her head.

“You haven't changed at all, (Y/N),” she murmured, without looking at your face, leaving the black veil on the table, sighing sadly but with the emotion of nostalgia in her gaze.

“Well, I don't climb trees now,” you joked, drinking some more tea, relaxed by being able to look at her face, by being able to see your friend again, at least a shadow of what she was.

“Now you climb women,” she whispered with a different voice. You gulped at that comment, your cheeks flushed.

“I see a Lord knows everything,” you said with a broken, nervous voice.

“Only what I want to know,” she corrected abruptly, blinking erratically.

After that somewhat sinister statement, silence came again to that disturbing place. You, nervous, tried not to make any comment but, as always, your curiosity spoke for you. You wish it hadn't.

“They say you killed Josef,” you commented, looking away from her pale skin, from her beauty that was screaming to be admired.

“I did,” she answered without any problem, with a cold look that pierced your soul.

“Why, Donna?” you asked disappointed by that statement, by the legend that stopped being one with a few cold words. “He was good to you.”

“It's none of your business, (Y/N),” she hissed, almost breaking her cup with the grip of her hands. Shortly after, she closed her eye, as if trying to control her nerves. “I had to do it, that's all.”

“Of course,” you said with a slightly ironic tone, with one that was dying to leave your lips. “Everything that happens to you stopped being my business 18 years ago, Donna.”

“You were the one who abandoned me,” she reproached you, giving light to a resentment that you were sure she felt. It was the moment of truth. “You were the one who stopped being interested in me.”

“Well, then why didn't you kill me too?” you said, getting up from the couch, waving your arms, letting your own guilt consume your insides, speaking in that way to the one who was once your best friend.

“Why would I do that?” the lady asked, standing up as well, in a furious tone, kicking the small table, causing the cups to shake dangerously.

“You said it, I abandoned you. I left you alone when you needed me, I... I failed you, Donna,” you said furiously too, letting the tears run down your cheeks, losing your nerves just like her. “Don't pretend you don't hold a grudge against me, I see it in your gaze.”

“I can't blame you for not wanting to be with a monster like me,” she whispered, also with her eye full of tears.

“Do you think it's about that? Do you think I would abandon you because of what people said about you?” you asked back, leaving the small corner and looking for calm in your thoughts. You didn't find it.

“I don't know what it could be about then,” she commented calmer, but with the same marked accent, one that revealed her internal rage.

“Oh, it, it wasn't my fault,” you said, shaking your head, running a hand through your hair. “My, my parents, they, they forbade me to see you, they told me that I was in danger by your side.”

“They weren't wrong,” Donna said, whispering dangerously, with a haughty posture.

“Of course they were wrong! You, you were my best friend, Donna…” you sighed, biting your tongue to avoid saying anything else against yourself, to avoid saying that you could have looked for her, but you didn't.

“You were my only friend, (Y/N),” the doll maker said, without removing that dark look from her face.

“Oh, Donna,” you sighed sobbing and doing something that you had wanted to do for years, throwing yourself into her arms, hugging her, feeling her with you again.

The lady was surprised, but she didn't take long to return that hug, holding you tightly against her body, letting your tears wet your dresses without saying anything, just crying, letting out those feelings that neither of you knew how to express.

“Donna…” you sighed again, soaking in her essence, letting her hands embrace you as she trembled, hugged you tightly, sobbed the same way you did. “I've missed you so much…”

“Me, me too,” she answered. “I, I haven't stopped thinking about you all this time… I…”

“Good, good!” the doll squealed, clapping comically. “Hug, hug!”

The two of you looked at each other and laughed, separating, letting your hands join slowly, swinging between your bodies. You caressed hers with your thumb, losing yourself in the softness of her skin, in her warmth, the one you hadn't forgotten.

“Forgive me, Donna, please. I shouldn't have left you alone, I should have been with you,”  you said pleadingly, with a sincere voice, with sincere feelings.

“That doesn't matter anymore, (Y/N),” she whispered, letting your hands go and running one of them over your cheek, making you cry even more, with a splendid smile. “What, what matters is that you're back, you're back by my side.”

You, perhaps too excited by that encounter, by the return of your childhood memories, did something crazy, approaching Donna and kissing her quickly on the lips, the fruit of joy, of being with the only person who understood you again.

She didn't react. She just smiled more widely, blinking confusedly.

“I'm sorry, I got too excited,” you said nervously, biting your lip and trying to control your breathing.

Donna laughed again, with a wider smile, caressing your cheek again.

“You were always so fiery…” she whispered amused, slowly moving her hand away, moving away from you.

“I guess I haven't changed that much,” you said, nervous by that unexpected kiss, by that softness that you didn't imagine, by that act that came from the depths of your heart. “But I think those days of fieryness are over for me.”

You, sighing, letting your duties come back to haunt you, walked through the mansion, shaking your head.

“Why do you say that?” the lady asked, chasing you nervously, turning you slowly, with an intriguing look.

“Well, I...” you murmured, showing your left hand, where a tacky ring decorated your finger. “I'm engaged.”

“Fi, fi, fidanzata...” she murmured confusedly, stammering, as if a jar of ice water had suddenly fallen on her.

“Yes, I'm afraid so,” you sighed, nodding with a sad look, letting yourself fall on the sofa again.

Donna frowned, unable to control the new trembling of her body, approaching you as if she were stalking you.

“Are you getting married?” she asked abruptly, squeezing her hands on either side of her hips, looking at you with an irrational hatred that you were unable to perceive.

“Yes, with Ivan, the boy from the weaver family. He's a jerk, but deep down he's a good boy,” you explained sighing, looking at that cheap jewel on your finger, wishing it would disappear from there by magic.

“With a boy?” Donna asked with that same distrustful tone, with a slow step and a dark air in her gaze.

“Oh, well yes, it's a marriage of convenience,” you said passively, standing up again when you saw the brunette's nervous attitude. “What's wrong with you?”

“What's wrong with me?” she asked with a look of hatred. “You're getting married?”

“It's not my thing, Donna, it was my parents' idea,” you said with a serious tone, crossing your arms. She laughed nervously, with irony adorning that sardonic smile.

“It's always your parents, isn't it? They are to blame for everything,” she hissed, shaking her head, as if that happiness had suddenly vanished, as if it had never existed.

“Yes, that is a pretty accurate statement,” you said arrogantly, frowning. “What do you care?”

“That, that's not fair,” Donna murmured, shaking her head, controlling the trembling of her hand with the other, preventing madness from taking over her again. “You, you can't.”

“Of course it's unfair, that's life,” you whispered, letting all the air out of your lungs.

“No, no, no, you can't, you can't do this to me…” she said, talking to herself, her hands pulling at her hair. “You can't!”

“What's wrong with you?” you asked, annoyed by her attitude, by not understanding the reason for her anger. “Now you worry about me? You could have done it 10 years ago, don't you think?” you said unintentionally, blaming Donna for your misfortune, blaming her for not going to save you, for not taking you with her to Italy, as she promised, as you promised before everything got out of control.

“Cazzo, (Y/N)!” she shouted furiously, kicking the dining table hard, knocking over several chairs in an outburst of fury that you watched in astonishment. “You can't marry someone you don't love!”

“But…” you hissed, now with rage controlling your words, your cocky pose, your irrational hatred for the lady in black, your hatred for not having been rescued when you could have been, when you broke your promise, and she broke hers. “What do you know, Donna? What do you know about love?”

“I know more than you think!” she shrieked, approaching you in a threatening manner, grabbing you firmly by the collar of your dress, with a furious eye, bloodshot, with hatred. “I know what it's like to spend years dreaming of seeing you knock on my door. I know what it's like to see you in sermons, to see how you run away from me, how you don't even dare to look at my face, I know what it's like to cry because I know that you will never feel for me the same as I have felt for you for so long… I know what it's like to love you, (Y/N).”

You were left speechless at that unexpected declaration. Tears spoke for you again, running down your cheeks. Your breathing stopped, your heart stopped beating, writhing in pain, stirring for you to hear it, for you to hear those same feelings you had repressed for so long.

But that revelation didn't really matter, that sea of ​​feelings you had kept inside for so long, hers, the love she said she felt for you. You already suffered for her once, you thought about her every day, you sat in the back row, but your eyes always went to her. A lost friendship that became a subtle obsession, an abyss full of guilt and things you didn't think you could feel for another person.

Once again, it was too late, no matter who was to blame.

“I'm so glad to see you again, Donna,” you whispered, turning around, trying not to look at the lady in black, who was crying inconsolably, controlling her anger, shaking her head as if she wanted to wake up from a nightmare. “I guess we'll see each other around here.”

She didn't answer, she simply sobbed, closing her eye and nodding, not wanting to see you leave her again.

You walked slowly towards the exit, with your mind torturing each of your steps, with your heart hurt by the reality of your feelings, your attitude. You were never able to love, to feel love for anyone, you didn't know why. But, after that argument, you began to see your problem clearly.

Donna was always in your dreams, when you grew up, she began to be like a ghost that you wanted to chase. When you were a child, you wanted to play with her, to be her best friend. When you grew up, that wasn't enough for you.

The guilt of having abandoned her joined with a feeling of anxiety and obsession that began to consume you little by little. You didn't care that she was a Lord, that a black veil covered her face. She was still Donna, your best friend, a friend who stopped being one, and with whom you fell in love little by little, for the simple fact of not being able to have her by your side.

The door creaked open and the cold cut your face. Furious and tired, you turned around to look at her once more, to be able to remember her as she was, and not as the village said. It was a bad decision, but a good one at the same time.

“Gods, what... What am I doing?” you asked yourself, slamming the door and running back through the entrance.

With a firm step, you reached the lady in black, throwing yourself at her lips, letting yourself be invaded by your feelings, by her kisses, by that improvised act that your body and your heart were dying to see you doing.

“(Y/N)…” Donna interrupted, not letting your kisses continue, the salty taste of your tears continue to mix on your lips. “Please, don’t, don't get married…”

“Ask me again, come on,” you said, gently hitting her chest, demanding to hear that request again, demanding that her feelings allow you to commit a madness.

“Don't get married,” Donna repeated, resting her forehead against yours, cupping your face in her hands.

You grabbed her wrists, letting more tears flow, losing yourself in the lavender.

“Again,” you whispered, holding her tightly. “Again.”

“Don't get married, stay with me…” she said, sobbing, as if the revelation had also clouded her senses. Her words were barely whispers, but they sounded like uncontrolled screams in your heart.

“I don't want to get married,” you sobbed, kissing her again, with your wild, wandering lips, with your hands running over her waist, pulling her, barely letting her breathe.

“Then don't do it,” she said with a slightly more serious voice, with her cold gaze penetrating yours.

You didn't answer, the kisses simply returned, they became hungry and messy. You could feel her hands traveling through your hair, your waist, your legs. It was an uncontrolled dance, without brakes, that went faster and faster.

The gasps replaced the sobs, the tears. Your bodies moved on their own, driven only by a blinding passion, by intense, immortal, eternal feelings. Kisses, caresses, love…

A trio of words that vaguely defined what was happening, how your steps began to crash against the walls, how her neck became your target, your playground, your safe place.

Donna accepted those kisses with a satisfied moan, with an anxious sigh as she searched for some corner, a crack in your dress so she could have the honor of touching your skin, of taking you to those same sensations you provoked.

There were no words, there was nothing, only gasps, only passion, only the sound of her back hitting the wall, her nervous movements when your leg was placed between hers and your skillful fingers began an unfair battle against the buttons of her dress.

Her slender fingers scratched your covered back, her hips danced discreetly against your leg, the gasps became more intense, the kisses wilder. Growling like an animal, you grabbed one of her legs, running your nails along the soft skin of her thighs, cursing that horrible black fabric for hiding such a brilliant beauty.

Donna pulled away, taking your hand and desperately guiding you towards the sofa, leaving her chest uncovered by your mischievous hands, lying down, dragging you on top of her while your own dress gave way to her discreet hands.

“(Y/N)…” the lady in black moaned, letting you push aside the fabric that separated you from her skin, that deprived your lips of the addictive taste of her body.

Neck, collarbone, breasts, everything was delicious for your lips, for your desire. She panted nervously, looking for something to entertain herself with, some part of your body that was just as attractive to her. Kisses, she only wanted some crazy kisses, kisses from you, from that girl who abandoned her, who threatened to do it again.

There was more and more clothing on the floor, and less on your body. Her hands were less careful, focusing on forbidden places, on parts of your legs that seemed unreachable.

For you, there was nothing else, there had been nothing else in over 16 years, Donna, just Donna.

Her skin, her sighs, her gasps, those little moans she let out were like fuel for your body, like gasoline so you could move how you wanted, where you wanted.

Soon there were no clothes, just sweat, just your lips moving down her body, worshiping the beautiful woman she had become, worshiping Donna, always Donna.

Her hand in your hair signaled for you to continue, you weren't going to stop, there would be nothing that could stop you, not even your stupid parents.

Her wetness betrayed her own desire. The taste of her arousal was sweet, intense, just as addictive as her kisses. Her body moved confused by your actions, confused by a naughty finger that slowly played with her clit, making her close her eye in shame.

More fuel for your lust. Dazzled by her caresses, by her soft hands in your hair, by those sounds she made, you immersed yourself in her wetness, caressing her with your tongue, making her shudder at your touch, at your not-so-innocent kisses. Your fingers took over from your mouth, entering inside of her, taking refuge in her excited heat.

You had never felt such intense pleasure just by touching a woman, there was nothing in that dirty village that resembled the perfection of her body, her moans, the perfection of Donna Beneviento.

Her back arched and her moans turned into high-pitched screams. Your hands comforted her, helped her to release keeping her close, as if your body was begging you to never leave again.

But that wasn't the end, just the beginning.

If you had to speak without knowing, you would say that Donna would be clumsy, even too rough in her actions, in making you hers, hers forever. Quite the opposite, she wasn't like that. You didn't know if you were the first, you didn't know if there had been other women before, you didn't want to know, just thinking about it made you want to scream with rage.

None of that mattered, only that sweetness mattered, those kisses, those tender words in Italian that watered your ears, that moved your body while she adored yours. You would never have imagined that delicacy, those fingers trying not to hurt you, not to run, trying to feel your whole body without fear of you leaving.

Her slow kisses were almost ardent, the movement of her hips was hypnotic, her fingers danced softly inside of you, her eye looked into yours with desire, with love, true love that you never believed possible.

Sex, moans, hips coming together, a thousand and one ways to give each other pleasure. For a moment, your life was reduced only to that and, in your madness, in your unbridled passion, you wished it would never end.

Her hands went wild, her arms wrapped around you tightly as your wetness rubbed together.

You could see, for a moment, that darkness in her gaze again, that desire to hold you in the strength of her embrace, of the scratches on your back, marking you, claiming you as hers forever, bringing out that possessiveness, that attitude of not wanting to lose what was already hers.

After an uncertain time, it ended, and the gasps and moans were replaced by nervous breathing, by Donna's strong and unbreakable embrace of your naked body, so you would stay on her chest, so the lavender would also be part of you.

Like a cruel return to the past, the clock rang with a shrill tone, alerting you to the worst moment of your life, when you were nothing but a child: the horrible moment of returning home.

“Donna…”you sighed sadly, releasing yourself from her embrace, struggling with her, who protested with a moan. “I have, I have to go.”

“You're leaving me again,” she sighed, wetting her cheeks again, struggling unsuccessfully to regain your warmth in hers.

“I wouldn't do it if I could,” you murmured, looking for your clothes and dressing slowly. She nodded, covering herself timidly, with a lost look.

“You can, but you don't want to,” Donna sighed, stabbing your heart.

“Are you going to explain to my parents that I'm not going to get married?” you said frustrated, putting on your dress. “That I'm leaving my life, my duties to stay with you, with a Lord?”

She shook her head, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“Marry me then,” she whispered, making you turn your head quickly, surprised by those words.

“What? Have you gone crazy?” you said confused, rubbing your eyes. “Donna…”

“If your parents care that much about you getting married… Do it with me,” she explained, with a desperate tone.

You sighed, running a hand over the back of your neck. You might think it was a joke but you knew Donna, you knew she was completely serious.

“It's not… That easy,” you whispered, letting yourself fall on the couch, exhausted, tired and hopelessly in love.

“Let them dare to oppose, (Y/N), we are not two little girls anymore, no one could do anything to stop us…. From loving each other. Please, (Y/N), sposami…”

“Donna, I… I, I don't know what to say… It’s, it's been so long and… And now…” you stammered, your heartbeat getting stronger, your heart already having the answer.

“It may have been a while, (Y/N), but, but I love you, I have never, never stopped and I will never stop loving you… I, I couldn't bear to lose you again without doing something about it,” she said, taking your hand, looking with disgust at that annoying ring.

“Will you take me to Italy?” you asked in a murmur, with an involuntary smile appearing on your face.

“I can't, I can't get out of…” she said, confused, silenced by a finger on her lips.

“I know, but… Would you do it if you were able to?” you asked again, slowly taking the ring off your finger, throwing it away, through the mansion.

She nodded with tears in her eye, with a sincere, beautiful smile.

“I would take you wherever you wanted, as… As long as you were with me,” she whispered, approaching your lips again, kissing them slowly, passionately, with love. “I would do anything for you.”

“Would you buy me a ring?” you asked amused, forgetting your fears, with the most important decision of your life already made. “One better than that trinket…”

“So…? So you, you want…?” Donna stammered nervously, squeezing your hands tightly.

“Yes, Donna, I can't think of a better company for the rest of my life…”

[futbol16]

Tell Them Your Truth  • Alexia Putellas & Claudia Pina

Request: Love your writing! Could you maybe write another part to Soccer Moms? I know the Barca team has mentioned that Claudia gets sick a lot, so maybe something with Reader and Alexia having to care for her and she doesn't want to be a burden or them finding out she's not feeling well during practice but she tries to continue anyways. Also, if you want to, could you maybe add Aitana as a sister, I feel like she'd fit in well (but if you don't want to, you don't have to). Also, sorry this is so long!

Word count: 3,9k (starting to realize that I enjoy these just as much as you do:)

Claudia lifts a spare shirt to her mouth as she tries to quietly clear her throat. Her eyes are alert as she peeks over the material, looking around as subtly as possible to see if anyone had noticed her. When no one bats an eye at her actions, she lowers the shirt from her mouth and with the same movement she shoves it back into her backpack.

She leans back in her cubby as she listens to the girls goof around before practice, but for once she doesn’t join them. Far too out of it to even think about such things.

This has been going on for a couple of days now, her state only worsening to the point that she now felt tired even before starting warm ups. 

“You coming, Pina?” her head shoots up at the sound of her name and she shoots Patri a questioning look. It’s only when she receives an equally confused look does she glance around the changing room, now noticing that most of the girls have headed out to the pitch.

“Uh yeah yeah” she nods, slowly coming to her senses. Patri eyes her with curiosity but the short girl dismisses her concern with a wave of her hand, opting to just follow behind her friend. 

Claudia clears her throat again as her and Patri walk out. The sun seems too bright as it hits her right in the eye and she almost groans aloud, wanting nothing more than to go back home and curl up under her blanket.

Patri turns at the noise but finds Pina looking down at her boots and she shrugs at her friend’s behavior. Maybe she just wasn’t having the best of days. 

With that thought Patri throws an arm around Claudia’s shoulders who’s taken aback by the sudden movement and she suddenly feels dizzy, not that she’d tell anyone. 

“Partners like usual?” she merely nods at the question, too busy with trying to come back to life. 

Even though her legs feel like bricks and she’s craving something hot to soothe her sore throat, the forward forces herself to act like she’s having the best time at practice. 

She almost lets a tear slip in relief when the end of training is called. She lets herself sit on the grass and breathe a heavy breath through her congested nose. The brunette lifts her gaze back onto her teammates, but when she notices you looking her way she instantly turns her attention elsewhere. 

Just as you start to walk towards her the girl quickly jumps up to her feet and clings onto Aitana’s arm who had been walking by. A muddled expression flashes across your face but you turn back to Alexia as she gives your hand a squeeze. 

Aitana however, looks at Claudia in a mix of surprise and bewilderment.

“Are you okay?” she timidly asks, not sure why her friend has been so quick to stick to her side. Claudia rapidly nods her head at the question, guiding Aitana towards the locker room. The midfielder takes notice of the slight redness of her eyes but decides against commenting on it. The two continue their way towards their stuff as they exchange a few words but Aitana quickly gets the impression that her friend is a bit too tired to continue any means of communication. 

By the time you and Alexia enter the changing room, having had to stay back for some coach-to-captains talk with Jonatan, most of your teammates have already left.

Only a few have hung back to bid their goodbyes and as you hug Mapi one last time, you notice another person still sitting by their locker. You motion to her when your girlfriend’s eyes connect with yours and Alexia approaches her. 

“Pinita?” she calls her name out softly as she crouches in front of the girl and Claudia hums at her in question, resting her head against the wood. 

“Is everything okay bebé?” the question makes her sit up straighter as if she just realized something and Claudia rubs her eyes as she slings the strap of her backpack over her shoulder.

“Sí, all good. I just didn’t sleep well last night so I’m a little tired.” she makes up the excuse on the spot and before either of you can open your mouths to interject, she presses a quick kiss to both of yours and Alexia’s cheek and she bolts out the door.

The two of you stare at the now closed door, wondering what had gotten into the young forward. Slowly turning to the brunette by your side you raise your eyebrows.

“That wasn’t weird at all.” your comment earns you a soft chuckle from Alexia.

“She’s just tired.” she wraps an arm around your waist as she pulls you into her body. “Speaking of tired, you wanna go home and cuddle up on the couch with Nala?” her voice is sweet and there’s a twinkle in her eyes as she gazes into yours that makes it impossible for you to not pull her down for a kiss. 

“Sí mi amor, siempre.” 

Meanwhile you and Alexia gather the last of your things in the changing room, Aitana is just about to get in her car when she hears someone sneeze. She stops halfway through opening the car door and she glances around her with her eyebrows furrowed. She had thought she was the only one here. Her eyes zero in on the ponytail sticking out above a car near her and she sneaks closer.

“Don’t tell me you’re sick again!” her voice startles Pina who lets out a loud shriek in return before she’s cut off by another sneeze. She taps at her pockets in search of something but Aitana hands her a tissue without a word. 

“Thanks.” the forward sniffles and then blows her nose out, cutting off Aitana who was about to speak again. Aitana watches on as her friend fills the tissue, a repelled look on her face. 

“Yeah, get it all out I suppose” she mutters, stuffing another tissue into Claudia’s pocket as she finally finishes.

“So?” 

“So what?” 

“Are you sick again?” Her silence speaks volumes and the ‘are you kidding me’ look on Aitana’s face isn’t helping her feel better. 

“I swear it’s not my fault-”

“Claudia you were sick like two weeks ago too!” she throws her arms up in frustration, frustration which roots from her worry for the brunette.

“Okay but…” Aitana raises an eyebrow, waiting for whatever excuse the young player had for now. 

“Nevermind, I don’t have anything.” Claudia shrugs nonchalantly before sniffing again. With the mother-like pose that Aitana is supporting with her hands on her hips and a disapproving look in her eyes, Pina knows what’s coming next. This time Aitana is cut off by her voice rather than her blowing her nose out.

“Please please don’t tell mi mamás, I don’t want to miss training and I don’t want to annoy them with this again. Pleasee!” her please catch Aitana off guard whose expression softens when Claudia reveals how she feels.

“You think you’d annoy Y/N/N and Ale?” her disbelieving tone makes Claudia huff out a breath through her nose.

“I don’t want to worry them. They smothered me with care last time and constantly came over to bring me soup and tuck me into bed and check my fever and-” she lets out a sigh. “You get it”

“So why not just tell them you don’t want that?” Aitana is utterly confused as to why the forward thought this was such a complicated situation.

“But I do want it!” Claudia all but whines, arms crossing over her chest in a defensive manner. Clearly her sickness had gotten her in a mood.

“Okay, I don’t get it” 

“If they know about this then they’ll worry about me-”

“Is that not a good thing?” Pina gives Aitana a look for being cut off.

“No, because it means they will spend their time worrying about me instead of being at training and getting ready for our next game. I don’t want them to pause their lives to take care of me” she finally admits and this time Aitana pulls her into a comforting hug, now understanding why this was such a difficult and overwhelming situation for Claudia.

“Wait actually, you’ll get me sick too” she pulls away from her and Aitana smiles when Claudia snorts at her antics. 

“But I understand now and I won’t tell them, even though they’re our captains and you probably should” she gives Pina one last look, waiting for her to change her mind but the brunette doesn’t budge. “Well, if that’s what you really want” she shrugs as she gives in to Claudia who thanks her profusely.

“Butttt, get some sleep today and take some coughing meds” 

“Sí claro. Gracias Tana!” Pina shouts after her friend who waves her off as she finally gets in her car.

The next day at training begins similarly for the young forward and she tiredly trudges into the locker room before letting her bag fall onto the bench with a loud thump. This time, many of the girls eye her with curiosity but Pina pays them no mind, the throbbing in her head far too painful to care. 

She’s just about finished getting ready and is tying her boots when someone sits next to her and leans down to her level with their hand situated on her back.

“If you don’t want the whole team to know before you could tell Ale and Y/N/N, then stop sniffling and blow your nose out.” Aitana whispers to her and she pushes a tissue into her hand.

Claudia glances up alarmed but when she notices that the two of you aren’t here yet, she calms herself down and excuses herself to the bathroom to blow her nose out. That way no one would hear just how congested she is and no one would tell on her.

When she re-enters the room she finds that the team’s captains have finally arrived, or more so just made their presences known because you’re both already dressed in your training kits and comfortably talking to Mapi and Ingrid. 

Claudia watches the two of you from her seat across you and her eyes wander over your form before she spots your hand on Alexia’s thigh. She watches as you rub soothing circles into the skin of your girlfriend’s thigh and how in return, the midfielder scoots closer to you and leans her head on your shoulder. 

She lets out a quiet sigh without knowing, wishing that she would also be receiving such comforting embraces, especially now that she feels under the weather.

For a second she genuinely considers walking over and plopping herself in between you and Alexia, but then she remembers that she’s trying to keep a secret from you. 

Alexia feels the young girl staring and she squeezes the hand that’s on her thigh to gain your attention.

“Pinita is staring at us” she whispers to you so as to not alert anyone else. “And I’m not sure if I’m seeing right, but are her eyes red to you too?” upon hearing her concerned voice you instantly turn towards the young brunette and your eyes scan over her clearly tired expression. Pina’s eyes connect with yours and she lowers her head to turn back to tying her boots, only to find that they’re already tied.

“Maybe she had another bad night?” it’s a valid suggestion from your part since it is the excuse Claudia had made yesterday. Even though Alexia can hear the uncertainty in your voice and she’s just as unsure, she nods at your words. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

Minutes later when the team finally start their way towards the pitch, Claudia is quick to run after Aitana and Patri before Alexia can greet her with a hug. 

The bewilderment in her eyes as she joins you again, makes you knit your brows together.

“Is it just me or is she avoiding us?” Alexia voices her thoughts as she turns to you, a sad smile resting on her face. 

“Thought I was imagining things.” you confirm with the same expression and you press a small kiss to her cheek hoping to calm her racing thoughts. 

With the way Claudia has been behaving, Alexia keeps a close eye on the brunette the whole time during warm ups, so much so that you have to nudge her out of her staring contest with the back of Pina’s head. 

The team is almost halfway through practice, doing running drills when you hear a small sneeze behind you. Beyond being confused at the sound you abruptly turn around only to find Patri, Aitana, and Pina all staring at you with wide eyes.

“Who was that?”

“Who was what?” Patri tries to outsmart you, having picked up on Pina’s state.

“The sneeze. Who sneezed?” you narrow your eyes at one of them in particular and Claudia lowers her slightly bloodshot eyes. She stays silent knowing that if she were to open her mouth you would hear her nasally voice.

“Me! Me, it was me.” Aitana’s words are accompanied by nods and she wipes at her nose for good measure, utilizing all of her acting skills in front of you. 

You're not very convinced but you ignore your worry for the moment, choosing to instead focus on the drill when it is your turn. You don’t hear the breath of relief behind you, or Pina thanking Aitana for covering for her and you certainly don’t see the knowing look Patri gives her best friend. 

Pina steers clear of you after that, and Alexia, and basically everyone in order to keep up her act.

When Jonatan calls for a scrimmage she knows practice is almost over and she relaxes a bit at the thought of not having to pretend for much longer.

She ends up on your team and while normally she would be hanging off your neck in happiness, she only trudges over to your side in silence. 

Alexia watches from the other side of the pitch and by now she is beyond concerned for Claudia. 

The scrimmage is going well with your team two goals ahead of Alexia’s, you make sure to rub it in her face, only playfully of course. And truly all is good when Pina sends another cross your way and you control the ball as you try to outsmart Cata. 

Claudia’s feet come to a stop as she rapidly breathes in only to then hunch over and break out in a coughing fit. Her eyes prick with tears as her sore throat is abused by the loud coughs that rake through her body and she is barely able to get in a breath before she’s coughing again. 

Aitana’s eyes are instantly on the forward and she quickly walks over to stand in front of her friend, still trying to cover for her.

The noise however catches everyone’s attention, except yours because you’re too busy scoring a goal and hearing your own heavy breathing to hear Pina way behind you.

Alexia’s mom mode is immediately activated and she runs over to Claudia without a second thought. She places a comforting hand on her back and pats her gently to help clear Pina’s throat. When Pina is finished, she inhales a sharp deep breath and straightens up, coming face to face with her captain.

“Sit down Claudia” Alexia orders firmly, but the worry shines through her voice. Pina follows her instructions though and when a bottle is pushed into her hands she eagerly chugs it down.

By now you have also turned around and when you see half the team standing near something, you furrow your brows. Deciding it’s best to see what was up you abandon celebrating your goal and instead run back to where you can see Alexia towering over the others. 

“What happened?” you ask breathlessly, eyes searching your girlfriend’s for answers. She gestures to Claudia on the ground and you drop down to your knees next to the girl. 

Your eyes rake over her form, searching for any injuries but when you don’t find any you glance back up at Alexia.

“She’s sick and has a coughing fit. And by the sounds of it she didn’t get sick last night.” Alexia places a gentle hand on Pina’s head and she carefully sweeps the baby hairs out of the girl’s eyes.

Your expression morphs into worry, confusion, and then a slightly hurt look as you turn to Claudia.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” you don’t receive a verbal answer, only a guilty look and you sigh, instead raising the bottle back to her mouth and urging her to drink more. With one last look at the girl you stand back up, giving Alexia’s shoulder a squeeze and then you stand by to explain the situation to Jonatan. 

He agrees to call the end of practice a few minutes early and tells the rest of the girls to stretch and cool down, allowing the three of you to head inside to check out Pina. 

You remain silent on the walk to the changing room and Pina glances up at you every now and then but she stays firmly tucked into Alexia’s side, allowing herself to soak up the affection she’s been missing out on. 

“Go ahead and get changed, I’ll get the stuff from the medics.” you inform Alexia and she nods at you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before letting you go. She guides the young forward into the changing room and sits her down in her cubby, draping one of your hoodies over the brunette. 

“Pinita” Alexia sits next to her with a small sigh, pulling her to lean into her. 

“When did all of this happen? You were sick just the other week” 

“I know, I know. I left the air conditioning running after I got home from training and…I guess sitting under it while still hot and sweaty- it wasn’t the best idea.” she admits regretfully and her captain chuckles along.

“Well, at least you know now.” just as Claudia thinks she’s off the hook Alexia continues.

 “But it wasn’t smart of you to continue training while you were clearly sick. This could’ve ended way worse Pina, you could’ve caused yourself serious stuff” she seemingly can’t find the right words, her mind once again consumed with fret.

The forward nods into her shoulder, wearing a guilty expression. Alexia lifts a hand to her forehead and Claudia jerks back at the coldness of it.

“You even have a fever, Pina!” she shrinks back at the tone of her voice.

“Why didn’t you tell us, or someone?” the midfielder questions further.

“I told Aitana, well technically she found out. But I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Pinita bebé, we’re always going to worry about you, no matter what.” Alexia tells her softly, rubbing the girl's shoulder.

“Sí, but I knew you would abandon everything else to take care of me. You would’ve missed training then and then maybe even a game.” she explains her reasoning and Alexia sighs.

“I would’ve rather missed a game than have you rip your lungs open in a coughing fit.” your voice rings out and it startles Claudia who hasn’t been paying attention to the door.

Your hands are full with what she could only assume were coughing syrups and other tablets and medicine for her. Suddenly she feels even worse for lying - or well keeping this from the two of you. 

“It wasn’t that serious-” she stops talking as you dump everything next to her and you move to take her temperature.

“It could’ve been.” you ignore the look you receive from your girlfriend but you do get the hint and with a deep breath in, you allow your softness to take over you.

“Querida, this isn’t something to joke about. You should’ve told Ale and I about how you were feeling, amor. We could’ve stopped it from getting worse.” you stroke her cheek as you look at the number on the machine, shaking your head when you see just how high her temperature is. Claudia melts into your touch and sinks even further into your girlfriend’s hold. 

“I didn’t want to be a burden.” she mumbles out as her eyes gloss over. Your movements halt at the hearing of her statement and you glance up at Alexia almost as if waiting for confirmation that you’ve really heard what you heard.

The midfielder tightens her hold on Pina.

“You’re far from being a burden Pinita, so far from it.” she mutters into Claudia’s hair. You crouch down in front of her and take her hands into your own, your thumbs running over her knuckles in a soothing manner.

“Worrying about you, taking care of you isn’t a chore, mi vida. We do it because we love you. Don’t ever think of it differently.” you tell her sincerely, your voice soft and comforting. Claudia nods at the two of you and she lets a tear fall before she physically lets herself fall into your arms, pulling Alexia with her.

The three of you stay in a tight embrace kneeling slightly uncomfortably on the floor of the locker room, but you and Alexia wouldn’t have it any other way if it meant Claudia felt safe.

“Thank you” she whispers as her grip on your shirts loosen. Alexia smiles at her and kisses her head in a motherly manner while you slightly pull back from the two.

“Okay, enough of this now, I can’t go another second knowing you’re sick and not do anything about it.” the laughs you receive instantly lightens the atmosphere and you offer a hand to each of your girls and pull them up to their feet.

“Drink some of this and then we can go home and cuddle up” you push the coughing syrup into Pina’s hand who pulls a face at it but quickly nods at your words, her mind already wandering to what movie the three of you could watch.

“I’ll make soup for you, bebé.” Alexia states and you smile at your girlfriend's enthusiasm to take care of your sick teammate.

Your arms wrap themselves around her as Claudia gathers her things and you press a lingering kiss to the underside of her jaw. Alexia’s eyes shine with adoration as she gazes down at you and just as she’s about to kiss you, you’re interrupted by Pina clearing her throat.

She gives the two of you a sheepish look.

“Can Aitana join us?” she fiddles with the strap of her backpack and your heart melts at her cuteness.

“Sure, go get her.” Alexia smiles at Pina without moving from your embrace and you watch as the forward skips out of the changing room. 

Later that evening, the three of you are all mushed together on the couch of the living room, Aitana and Patri squished onto the sofa chair as they share a bowl of popcorn, eyes intently watching the movie playing in front of you all.

As Claudia glances around, she relishes in the comfort and warmth that she feels, her throat feels a lot better thanks to the amount of syrup you had forced her to take, plus Alexia’s soup. Just before her eyes slip closed, she thinks that perhaps next time it wouldn’t be a bad idea to tell the two of you about her being sick, especially if it resulted in such movie nights. 

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 9

Only one more chapter to go and that's the happily ever after.

Lot of talking in this chapter. Steve and Eddie, Eddie and Chrissy, Steve and Chrissy, back to Eddie and Steve. But we get to the most brilliant idea Eddie has had since choosing to marry Steve.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

****

The drive back to the hotel wasn’t a long one, but it still felt like it had passed by in a single instant.

When he pulled into the parking lot he was surprised to see Steve leaning against one of the pillars to the covered valet parking, smoking a cigarette. His feet were crossed at the ankle and his free hand was holding tightly to the arm that held his cigarette. His head was down, but Eddie could his hair wasn’t styled and his clothes were rumpled.

He got out his rental in a hurry and tried not to run up to Steve so it was this weird loping walk/jog thing.

“Baby?” Eddie called, leaning his head down to try and look him in the eyes.

“Eddie?”

His already broken heart shattered into dust when Steve raised his head. His eyes were red and swollen, his face blotchy with tears, and his expression was shuttered.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he cooed, cupping Steve’s cheek. “What are you doing here?” If Eddie was the cause of another shop closing, he was going to start crying, right there in the parking lot, dignity be damned. “What about the bakery?”

“Robin is taking care of it,” he murmured, “she called in Claudia to help out, the shop’s fine.”

Eddie heart sank further. “But you aren’t. Why don’t we go up to my room and we’ll talk about it, okay?” When Steve didn’t say anything, Eddie backtracked. “Or we can go somewhere else if you prefer.”

Steve shook his head. “No, no. You’re hotel room is fine.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around him and led him to his room. He sat Steve down on the one armchair in the room and poured a glass of water. He got out two capsules of ibuprofen and handed both to Steve.

“Drink up, Stevie,” he gently implored. “Don’t want you getting a migraine because you’re dehydrated.”

Steve nodded and did as he was told. Once he was done, he handed the cup back to Eddie who set it on the table.

“I was making snickerdoodles and started crying and couldn’t stop,” Steve murmured. “I know I’ve been awful to you all week and I’m starting to feel like that stupid Einstein quote or whatever about being crazy.”

Eddie chuckled and ran his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Crazy is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?”

Steve nodded and then leaned into Eddie’s touch. “I’ve missed you so much, Eds.”

Eddie knelt in front of him and kissed his forehead. Steve let out a shuddering breath as the sobs threatened to choke him.

“What did you do to me that I didn’t deserve, Stevie?” Eddie whispered. “I left you, kept running when I could have come home, demanded a divorce, came to town and shook up your life and was just going to blow out of it again, never to be seen again? After all that, what did you do to me that wasn’t in self-defense?”

Steve let out another shuddering breath. “Kevin is just a pool buddy. We aren’t dating. I haven’t dated since before you. I couldn’t. You’re everything to me and I don’t know what I did to make you hate me.”

Eddie frowned at the name before he realized it was the guy he saw flirting with Steve his first night in town.

“I don’t hate you, baby,” he murmured. “I never hated you. I was so scared that I would be stuck in this hick town my whole life. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to meet new people, but I never stopped loving you.”

“But Chrissy?” Steve asked, tears slipping down his cheeks. Eddie right there with him with his own tears.

“She needs a visa to stay in America,” Eddie said his voice shaking with each word he forced past his lips, “and if we don’t get married by a certain date, they’ll ship her off back to Barbados. She’s my Robin, Stevie. She’s my Robin.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as he gasped. There wasn’t anything in the world that he wouldn’t do for Robin, even a lavender marriage if that’s what it would take to keep her safe.

“Oh.”

Steve threw himself at Eddie and pulled him in for a big hug. “Oh, sunshine,” he breathed. “That’s horrible. Of course you need to marry her, to keep her safe. I’m sorry you’ve been carrying this around like a millstone around your neck.”

“I’m sorry, Stevie,” Eddie wailed. “I am so sorry.”

They slunk to the floor in a crumpled heap as they cried together.

Later they would get on the bed and just hold each other. But for now, they cried in each other’s arms and held on for dear life.

****

Eddie woke up for the first time in years feeling well rested and comfortable. His phone was also blasting “Hot Blooded Woman” as loud as possible.

He rolled over to grab his phone but was met with a warm body and face full of honey colored hair.

Eddie smiled and stretched over Steve to grab his phone.

“‘Ello?” he muttered, trying to keep his voice down.

“Eddie!” Chrissy shrieked. “I’ve been calling for the last ten minutes! Why didn’t you pick up?”

Eddie pulled his phone from his ear and stuck a finger in it to clear it out. “Chrissy, not so loud.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m freaking out that you weren’t answering your phone, Edward,” she huffed.

Eddie slid out of the bed and grabbed the room key on his way out of the hotel room. “I was sleeping, Christine. I’ve had a very emotionally wrought day and was exhausted.”

There was silence on the line for a moment or two before he got a very chastised, “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Ed,” she murmured. “I was having my own freak out and completely forgot about yours. That was fucked up, I’m really, really sorry.”

Eddie sighed and leaned against the door. “It is what it is. Why were you calling?”

“Um...” she hedged. “It doesn’t sound so dire in weight of your shit, so...”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Now you’ve got to tell me.”

“So, um...” she hedged a little more, “I called the bakery to see if I could talk to Steve and see if we could work out custody of you or whatever, but he was busy.”

“Snickerdoodles.”

“Yes!” Chrissy hissed. “Wait! How did you know?”

“Steve came to the hotel to see me,” Eddie explained, “and told me he had been making snickerdoodles when it just came over him that he just had to see me.”

“Cute,” she said and Eddie could see her tilt her head to the side in his mind, something she’d picked up from him. “Anyway! I’ll talk more about that in a minute. I need to freak out.”

Eddie shook his head fondly. “Continue.”

“So this really cute sounding girl picked up and wouldn’t let me talk to him because apparently their giant stand mixer eats phones!” Chrissy explained.

“Let me guess, you’re freaking out about the cute sounding girl?” he murmured.

“Is–is she Steve’s girlfriend?” she asked shyly.

Eddie burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that Steve opened the door and looked down at him. “You okay there, Eds?”

He nodded, pursing his lips together. “Would please explain to Chrissy that Robin isn’t your girlfriend, please? Please?”

Steve rolled his eyes but took the phone from Eddie’s grasp.

“Hi, Chrissy?” he greeted.

“You must be Steve!” she chirped happily. “Nice to meet you at long last!”

“Likewise,” he said fondly. “Robin Buckley is my partner in a lot of things, but as a staunch lesbian, she isn’t anything but my platonic soulmate.”

He pulled the phone from his ear as she shrieked. Eddie looked up at him with the biggest grin and made grabby hands for his phone. Steve handed it back.

“Oh my god!” Chrissy cried. “If I wasn’t set to marry you, I propose in a heart beat!”

“I never took you for a U-haul lesbian,” he teased her.

Suddenly everyone stopped stock still.

“Oh shit,” Eddie said scrambling to his feet. “That’s it!”

“I’m calling Robin!” Steve cried, diving back into the hotel room.

“Get on a plane, darlin’,” Eddie told Chrissy. “I think we just solved all our problems.”

“Eddie...” Chrissy breathed. “Do you think this will work? What if she says no?”

“She won’t,” he reassured her. “And even if she doesn’t agree today, she will once she meets you face to face.”

“This is insane, Ed,” she muttered. “I don’t know.”

“Babe,” Eddie breathed. “Jeff is already out here for his parents’ wedding anniversary. Brian lives in Indy, and I bet I could convince Gare to be on a flight faster than you can book your own flight. You’ve already told the immigration lady that you were coming down here to the wedding anyway.”

She sighed and took a deep breath. “Okay, but now I’m freaking out for a different reason.”

Eddie laughed. “Because now you’ve got meet the pretty girl on the phone?”

“And is she?” Chrissy asked. “Is she pretty?”

Eddie went searching through his phone for the pictures he took during his week here and found a good one of Robin and Steve at the bar. He sent it to her.

“Stevie is hottie on the right,” he told her, “and Robin is cutie on the left.”

There was silence on the line for a few moments before Chrissy breathed. “Right, two things. One, I think you’re an even bigger asshole for leaving that behind, by the way.”

Eddie bobbed his head side to side. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“And two holy fuck,” she hissed. “I would go down on my knees begging her to marry me even if my immigration status wasn’t the fucking sword of Damocles hanging over my head, right now.”

“Someone packing her bags yet?” he teased her.

“Look, babe,” Chrissy said seriously. “I was already packing my bags to meet your scaly white ass out there in Bumfuck, Indiana, it’s just going to be a more enjoyable experience is all.”

“See you soon, Chris.”

“I’ll message you my flight details as soon as I get them.”

“Right-o,” he said and hung up.

The door to the hotel room opened up again and Steve leaned against the doorframe.

“Robin thinks it’s a great idea,” he said softly. “One of her schools was already out there in Washington, so this makes the choice easier. Plus, this means she won’t be alone in the city like she thought she would be.”

Eddie got to his feet and put his arms around Steve’s waist. “This only clears up seventy percent of the problem.”

Steve frowned and tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Eddie cupped his jaw tenderly. “I still have a life out in Seattle. I want to be here with you, but there is so much to do before that could happen.”

Steve draped his arms around Eddie’s neck loosely. “I know that, Eds. I wasn’t expecting a miracle cure. So the only thing I need to hear from you is that no matter how far apart we are, that you’ll still love me.”

Eddie pulled him in for a hug and they stood there, half in the hotel room and half in the hall, just taking comfort in each other.

“I promise you this, Stevie,” he whispered in his ear, “that I will move heaven and earth to find my back to you. Something I should have done a long time ago.”

Steve shook his head. “No, I think we both needed to grow up before we could properly be together.”

Eddie let out a contented sigh. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Steve pulled him back inside the hotel room and Eddie closed the door behind him.

****

Part 10

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @ravenfrog @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @mac-attack19

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

7- @blackpanzy @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras

8- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites

9- @blondie1006 @stripey82 @w1ll0wtr33 @mcenziehughes

[raayllum]

bc I said this like two weeks ago and it's time

The Claudia Dragon scale Armour Meta, or what is the Point?

In like any other show I'd treat the dragon scale armour as a really cool looking power up and not look into it any further, also because it is That Cool that it doesn't really need another reason to exist. However, because this is TDP I'm assuming there's also symbolic layers we can glean even without knowing about the First Elf, Laurelion, that it came from. So let's get into it

Corruption

The most obvious layer to me is the suit representing another form of corruption. Presumably Claudia gets it (i.e. the knowledge and power of how it works) from Aaravos as a gift of sorts to protect her. As her hair grows increasingly white, we see another form of dark magic (the glowing purple eyes) literally overtake her body in a more armoured, animalistic form.

Claudia has gone from taking on more animalistic traits (4x03 with the snake, 4x04/4x07 with bat wings, 5x09 with the tentacles) of the creatures she uses as spell parts to using her own body as spell parts literally (5x09) and metaphorically. Now, the suit of armour is overtaking her entire body and encroaching onto her face, almost like it's swallowing her up.

The fact that it's armour I think is also indicative. As Soren becomes less guarded and more open, he shifts from the full armour in arc 1 to a much more dressed down armour in arc 2. If true strength is found in forgiveness, in vulnerability, in love, then that means setting down your arms to talk and/or walk away. Not getting more armour.

The worse she gets, the further she goes, the more the armour will reflect that. Rather than being possessed by Aaravos (at least in theory), she's being moulded and shaped further and further into his weapon and carrying out his worldview. So that's one design / potential aspect of the armour. What's the other?

A Dragon

When making decisions as a writer, while there are often initial inclinations or ideas, others are considered. What I mean by this is that Claudia's armour could've taken any kind of shape. It could've been watery or bloody in appearance to represent Aaravos' ocean or violence swallowing her up; it could've been just dark magic-y, like corrupted skin; or snakes, to symbolize her bracelet and being entrapped.

But no, it's a dragon scale and makes her look like and breathe fire like a dragon.

So why make Claudia look like a dragon? A few reasons, I think:

The Laurelion necklace being a fiery heart, like what was done to the human armies and Katolis in 3x07 and 6x08 respectively.

Claudia taking more of Viren's prior fire motif as she steps further into her father's shoes

Dragons are described on more than one occasion as monsters (also loops into the corruption idea), and Claudia in becoming one is becoming/invoking the other

Dragons and First Elves used to work / rule Xadia together, even if the dragons were ultimately less powerful and more subservient. Claudia is accordingly becoming the dragon working with another First Elf but for the opposite, more destructive aims

Call backs to 2x07 with the burning town, Katolis with Sol Regem, and presumably Elarion in the past (if only attempted).

Something something "becoming the thing you hate and the thing other people fear" redux, I suppose. More eloquent thoughts may come to me later but for now, this is what I got!

[ridingtorohan]

𓇻 ft. ezio auditore x civilian gn reader

𓇻 summary. There's just you, Ezio, and a slow, sleepy morning on a rooftop.

𓇻 content. platonic or pre-relationship. pre-Brotherhood.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

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Soft strands of sunlight crests over the city walls, dusting over the roof slates in a golden sheen. It’s beautiful and tranquil, the starlight fading overhead into hues of gentle light. Early dawn has you feeling cold, a little uncomfortable under the brisk air. Monteriggioni feels quiet beneath the sway of your feet, the small city silent with sleep. Ezio barely breathes - and when he does, it’s relaxed, the motion slow. He’s, somehow, not quite what you imagined and yet everything all at once. Quiet. For all the charismatic clamor you see him with, he watches over the city with a sense of calm that Claudia has never spoken of.

Aristocratic nose, fine cheekbones and firm jawline, Ezio was without a doubt a cut of the finest cloth. Boisterous. Loud. Everything you’ve heard spoken about him - and even seen him act. This is a tender side you didn’t know existed, hidden beneath swaths of fine armour and silky fabric. Looking at him as you do now, his presence almost muted beside you on the rooftop, he seems more man than myth. Gentler, almost, even with the garment of metal strapped to his wrists.

Despite all the armour he typically wears, the imposing and broad figure he cuts, he’s everything but. You’ve seen him out and about, moving along the rooftops and city walls, scrounging for feathers - you still didn’t quite understand that— and tending to mundane jobs. He’s even swept out an arm to guide children back to their feet after a tumble to the street. Which happens a fair bit, even to a young child from your extended family.

Thing is, while it happens a fair amount - Ezio is there to stop it. Always visiting, moving between houses and tending to the people with a spirit and jubilance that you haven’t even seen the Lord cherish the town with. He loves it like his own, a home far from his birthright.

You don’t know much about Ezio’s past, only gleaned some of it from gossip and from Claudia. Even that isn’t enough. Enough would be to hear it from his own lips, to have the man himself explain. But, the strange thing is, despite all the good tidings he gives to the town, when he’s alone with you like this, he grows somber. A million miles away, lost in a world you can’t comprehend.

Other days it’s good. He tends to you like every other townsperson in Monteriggioni, making sure you have everything you need. You’re not even sure how spending time with Ezio like this even happened - what you did to make him choose you. There are many ladies who express an interest in him, many soldiers who want privy into his skills. But he chooses you, takes you for strolls and stops first thing at your market stall when new produce is brought in.

Today is not one of those days.

“I am sorry,” he says then, voice hard in the growing daylight. Not because he’s harsh - never is— but because that’s just how his words sound. “My mind is … quite occupied today.”

“It’s okay,” you breathe out, because it is. It’s okay. You don’t question where his mind goes.

There’s a long moment of silence before Ezio quietly elaborates, “It is close to my Christening day.”

“Oh-” You pause and consider his tone. “I’m sorry.”

His expression twitches then, mirth dancing in his eyes, dark eyebrows knitting together. A small smile plays across his handsome face, fingers spreading across his thigh. “Thank you.” He laughs, an unused sound that rests deep in his throat. “Ah, I’m sure you’ve already heard of Claudia arranging a party, no?” Your pinched expression gives you away and his laugh deepens, eyes turning away.

“She wanted it to be a secret-” You stop yourself there by instinct. But Ezio doesn’t interrupt, he never has. He’s attentive that way, always listening to what you have to say, even if it’s about the soil or the worms in your garden. “You weren’t supposed to know about it.” “She always tries to make it a surprise,” Ezio responds, eyes tender as he looks at you.

“And yet you know of it anyway.” There’s a twitch of his scarred mouth when you speak.

“Mm.” He gives a slow nod of his head, leaning back, brown hair moving from his shoulder to spill over his back instead. Ezio closes his eyes, the hazy sunlight moving across his face as it climbs into the sky. “Has anyone invited you?”

“The whole town is going.”

“Yes, I imagine.” Ezio laughs slightly then. “I’m inviting you as my guest.” It feels like it should be a profound statement - something awe inspiring or an utterance to make you gasp. It doesn’t. Instead, all you feel is a low seeping warmth that touches the tip of your toes. You look down, swaying you feet over the edge of the roof. Ezio isn’t saying it to be polite - there’s something about the way he speaks and acts with you that makes you feel like he’s genuine.

“Thank you,” you say after a moment. “That’d be great.”

Ezio says nothing to that, though you can feel his eyes turn from you back towards the city at your feet. An emotional eclipse washes over you and you’re left feeling cold. Every moment with Ezio is like this - inviting, like summer days and fireflies. Like he sees who you are and accepts it.

There’s nothing for a long moment, just you and Ezio and the slow march of time. Dew glistens on the lower tiles, the rough texture cold beneath your palms. “Thank you for going,” he says - and the way he says it makes it feel more profound than it originally sounds. Like it matters to him, like your presence is something he basks in.

You look at him, at his battle worn features, weary lines smoothing into something almost peaceful. He needs moments like this, you realize. Needs it like you do - the companionship, the ease from everyday life. The slow, quiet mornings, the yawning pull of life. An insurmountable, insignificant second of life - every second that amounts to something more. Because he exists, you exist, and this moment exists.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you promise, meaning every word of it. You enjoy these mornings with him just as much as he does.