#manda mumbles

[hellcatrising]

I put off making this post for a while. I just couldn't bring myself to do it... Seeing everyone's messages and posts still makes me incredibly sad.

The Gazette has been a huge influence in my life ever since I found their music. I love every single one of them so much, and the news about Reita killed me. I was shocked and incredibly sad to hear about it.

I hope the family is finding peace and I hope the other members are too.

I know it won't be the same going forward, and Reita will be deeply missed.

I hope he's out there with Hide and the others, watching over us and laughing with each other. I'd like to think he is anyways.

Rest in peace, Reita, and know you were and still are loved by so many, and you will be missed. I promise if I get to see the Gazette again, one day I'll raise a glass and drink for you there.

ありがとう。

[hellcatrising]

I have one kink and it's meant to be felt.

I have one kink and it's not a good idea.

[holymusicalmothman]

spencer make my brain go numb like i wanna lazily makeout with him :(

Smosh Masterlist

Aight my lil guys. I’ve been ✨inspired✨. It gonna be short tho

Mkay but I feel like it’s just tender af. Ya know? Like all the time in the world kinda lazy kissing but it’s still absolutely breathtaking. Like. Y’all are just doing nothing on a Sunday afternoon, just watching a movie or smth and like ten minutes later you’re just seated on his lap and oof.

Also. I can’t remember whether or not I know what Spence’s cats names are. I know Damien’s, but I don’t think I know Spencers 🤔 Let a girl know lol

Could be included in my Ian’s Sister AU. This lil fic took me on a journey.

Word count: 500-600???

TW: Kissing!!! Nothing expletive. Established relationship.

******

Lazy Sunday Confessions

What had started as a planned movie date with your boyfriend had slowly turned into a lazy make out session on his couch.

Not that you were complaining. The movie had been quiet and rather slow, so you had found an entertaining pastime in each other that fit the vibe given by the slow Sunday afternoon.

His lips moved slowly but purposefuly with yours, one hand against the back of your neck and the other rubbing circles into your hip through your shirt.

Spencer’s apartment was silent apart from the gentle lul of the tv and soft, breathy sighs. His cats were no where in sight, napping in another room for sure. It was just the two of you.

You could lose yourself in the moment forever, everything outside of your boyfriend was long forgotten. Nothing existed save for the feeling of his lips moving against your own as his stubble lightly tickled your face. Your hands moved from his shoulders upwards to tangle your finders into messy dark curls.

Spencer did something nice with his jaw as he continued to kiss you and you sighed happily, your heart fluttering in its contentment.

You finally pulled away for a moment, and he trailed slow, gentle kisses across your cheek and to your jaw, only stopping when your forehead came to rest against his neck.

How could kissing be so…tiring? You thought to yourself. There was so much more that went into it than you had once thought. But you didn’t want to stop.

“It’s getting late, pretty girl. Gonna be dark soon.” He mumbled into your hair, his hand moving from the back of your neck to brush through your hair.

“‘m t’red,” you mumbled back and you felt him shake in silent laughter.

“If you’d like, you could stay here tonight.” There was a waver in his voice and it betrayed his nervousness. “Just to sleep, baby. No funny business until you say you’re ready.”

You smiled. You really did have the best boyfriend. “It’ll stay.”

You felt him tense in excitement. “Really?”

“Mhm. I finally picked up all the clothes I keep leaving at ‘Manda’s on wine night. I’ve got some sweats I can wear,” you began sitting up. “Just gotta run out to my car.”

“You could leave some of those clothes here, too.” He said.

Your eyes met his dark blue ones.

“I may have already made some space for you in my drawer.” He confessed. “You don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You had your hands on either side of his face and you were pulling him back into your orbit before he had even finished taking.

He tasted of Kickstart and something so distinctly Spencer that you weren’t sure if it existed anywhere else. The smell of cologne and what was either body wash or shampoo wrapped back around you as the world once more shrunk down to just the two of you.

“I love you.” Slipped past your lips and across his skin and you froze, thinking the confession had been shoved deeper into your subconscious.

But the grin that broke across Spencer’s face could have powered the sun and erased any anxiety you had. It reached all the way to his eyes which had suddenly teared up.

“Really? I’ve been waiting so long to hear that, pretty girl. I love you, too.”

I ran out of steam towards the end there. But I’m not someone who writes anything super intimate, so this was a well accepted and well welcomed challenge.

[staarboyyy]

quiet morning

amanda young x gender neutral reader

18+ scenarios / characters - minors dni

tags / warnings ; fluff, sleeping with socks, sleepy morning, buffmanda, pervymanda, straddling, teasing

summary ; amanda insists you both sleep in.

word count ; 930

a/n; gets just a liittle spicy near the end, thank you all for your support !! <3

Amanda groaned dramatically as you managed to pry yourself free from her long constricting arms. "Just a few more minutes," She mumbled into her pillow, legs pulled to her chest while you looked down at her with a small smile. Your's fingers began to thread through her messy hair as you stood by the bed, Amanda managing to bundle herself in the blankets to ward off the vile cold. Her hand poked out from the fabric, digits gently wrapping around your wrist.

"I could just pull you in, y'know..." She grumbled haphazardly, tugging slightly to coerce you back into bed.

"I'd like to see you tr-"

Almost immediately, the words were cut off by a loud cackle as your body was thrown off balance by a single hard yank. You scrambled blindly around the sheets, trying to stand once more, but Amanda's arms were the first to meet you, pulling you tightly to her chest. Your heart thrummed against her forearms as she rested her chin on your shoulder, now caging you in the warmth of the blankets and her abstractly long limbs. You wiggled around her grasp to face her, still grinning as your own hands met her face, leaning in to meet her wry eyes and small smile.

"We have things to do, 'Manda."

You mumbled, bumping your forehead against hers gently. You felt her shrug slightly, your thumbs coasting over her pronounced cheekbones as you sighed, shaking your head. Warm comfortable silence meeting you both, your eyes settling shut, still holding eachothers body with reverberating devotion.

"Stay."

Amanda breathes the word, lifting her head to press cool lips against youe warm forehead. You hummed at this, moving your arms to wrap over her long torso with a contented sigh. Her cold hands met one of your thighs, goosebumps gardening over your skin in response; With ease she slid your leg to also wrap over her body, the weight comforting her in an odd manner. You had been absolutely tangled in the morning air, Amanda's fingers gently pressing small patterns into your shoulder as you reveled in the odd tenderness of her you so rarely got to see.

"You wanna get some more sleep?"

Your eyebrows furrowed at her question, eyes focusing on the girl you now wrapped around her. Her arms snaked over your torso, pulling you to her as she sighed, closed eyes opening just enough to catch your questioning gaze. Your fingers messily combed through the loose dark whisps from Amamda's tied up hair, your free hand holding the weight of your chin with a propped up elbow.

"Hoffman isn't showing up today; John said we could use time together," She adds, making your still expression curve into a satisfied one. Her voice came in a low rippling wave, curtained by the sheen morning haze.

Amanda’s hands rubbed over your back, eyes shutting as she basked underneath your warmth and weight. You let your elbows bend, casting your head back onto her chest, fingertips gently fiddling with the fabric of her loose sweatshirt. A soft grey cotton, worn and only able to reach her navel, her jutting hip bones and exposed light happy trail blanketed by loose pajama pants. You paused suddenly when your foot hit hers.

"You sleep with socks on?" You demanded in a whisper, leaning into her face.

For a moment, a confused quirk of Amanda's brow appeared, eyes still closed, but then melted into an amused one. Your hands met the collar of her sweater.

"Yes or no, be honest," Her slow silent laughter grew underneath you, building in her ribs. She hesitantly shook her head no with a pursed smile, making you jump up and swim amongst the ocean of fabrics that swaddled both of you. You pointed hard at her ankles, exposing mismatched black socks. You straddled her, arm extended back in an accusatory stance, eyes glaring down at the other. Amanda's quiet whispers of chuckles now grew to be an audible laugh, throwing you off slightly. It was rare to hear her express such things, and a suprised smile pushed at the corners of your lips. The odd domestic comfortability was something you had both taken fair time to adjust to, yet being able to see and hear truly how content Amanda was in this moment, was a rarity unlike any other. Her hands slid over your thighs, fingertips passing the hem of your shorts with a tilted grin.

"You're gonna judge me for sleeping with socks on?"

"Not judging."

"I can see you judging," Amanda demanded with another drawn out laugh, exhaling from her nostrils as her hands slid up more. Her fingers now teased the legs of your underwear, thumb gently hooking into one of them to keep you positioned on top of her; In truth, she couldn't get enough of this angle.

"You - Uh, know I do it with the best ... Intentions," Your voice faltered as her cold invasive hands became more apparent on your feverent skin. She had to be doing this on purpose, or atleast be aware of the effect her rougher touch had on you - The slightly smug expression she had gave it away.

"Am I making you nervous?" Amanda didn't miss a beat to respond to your hushed voice, her half lidded eyes barreling into yours with a nearly challenging glint.

"Would it be bad to admit that you are?"

This sparked more laughter from the woman, shaking her head as her colder hands slid over your warm legs.

"No, no... I like knowing how flustered I can make you,"

[harrywavycurly]

Fake Husband Eddie Munson AU Part 3: Not Him

Part 1: here

Part 2: here

Tag List: @alana4610 @fluentmoviequoter @alicentswife @vivalasv3gan @goth-cowgirl-03 @yujyujj @slowgabinaburninroom @zaddyskye69 @manda-panda-monium @ckeeks4563 @raven-rust @adaydreamaway08 @nikkisheep @flawiette @knmendiola @corvusskid @itsmadamehydra @saramelaniemoon @winchestergirl87-blog

A/N: I have one more little epilogue type update for this little story and really I’m so glad y’all enjoyed it and I hope you’re happy with the ending ✨

*Eddie just knows he’s not leaving until you forgive him*

“You’re such an idiot.” Eddie mumbles to himself as he rushes up the steps of your front porch. “God how the fuck do I fix this?” He asks himself as he runs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh. “Just tell her the truth.” He whispers as he reaches into the pocket of his work overalls and pulls out the skull ring the bartender tossed at him.

“What exactly is the truth Eddie?” You watch him jump at the sound of your voice and you have to hold back from laughing because he nearly dropped the ring that he held in the palm of his hand. You stand up from your rocking chair so you can lean against the railing crossing your arms over your chest. Eddie turns his body so he’s facing you and he feels his heart drop when he sees your eyes are glossy and red letting him know you had been crying and it was all because of him.

“I’m so sorry.” You roll your eyes as Eddie takes a small step towards you. “I don’t even know how it happened.” Eddie tries to find the words to explain himself but he’s coming up short as he rubs at the back of his neck.

“I can tell you exactly how it happened.” Your voice is harsh as you stare Eddie right in the eyes as you stand up straight and take a step towards him all of a sudden making your front porch feel extremely small. “You got so caught up in whatever you were doing at work that you forgot about me.” Eddie doesn’t miss the way your voice cracks a bit as you speak making him look down at his feet because looking at you when you’re on the verge of tears is too much for him. “Wanna know how I know that? Because this isn’t the first time someone’s forgotten about me because something more important came up …so please tell me Eddie…what was it that got you so distracted?” You watch him lift his head up but instead of looking at you he turns his head so he’s look in the direction of his van that’s parked in your driveway.

“A minivan.” You almost don’t hear him due to his voice being almost a whisper. You just nod your head as you let out a scoff making Eddie look at you and the way your porch light glows he’s able to see a few tears escape your eyes.

“A minivan? Really?” Eddie tries to close the space between the two of you but you’re quick to take a few steps backwards away from him. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this again.” You watch Eddie reach his hand out for you but you just shake your head and cross your arms over your chest.

“Do what?” He asks as he watches you look down at your feet.

“Be with someone who doesn’t care about me or…have time for me.” Eddie feels like his heart is about to break into a million pieces because he knows who you’re comparing him to and it kills him because he knows just how poorly Jason treated you and he doesn’t ever want you to think he’s anything like him.

“I do care about you and I absolutely have time for you.” Eddie needs you to hear him so he bends down so you’ll look him in the eyes. “I am so sorry sweetheart…I swear it won’t happen again…I’m not him okay? I had tonight circled on my calendar and everything.” You just let out a huff as you wipe your eyes.

“Yet you still didn’t show up.” Eddie knows he deserves this, it’s his fault he didn’t make sure he got off work in time to meet you at the Hideout by six, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less seeing you upset at him. “Just go home Eddie.” You whisper as you take a seat back in your rocking chair as you look down at your hands in your lap.

“No.” Is all he says before he’s closing the distance between the two of you and dropping to his knees right in front of you and picking up your right hand in his so he can place his skull ring back on your ring finger. “I’m not going anywhere…call Hopper if you want but I’m not leaving.” You look from the ring to his eyes as he gives you a little smile. “I fucked up but I swear…it won’t happen again and honestly I’d be fine with proving that to you for the rest of our lives but…that seems like a little much to say considering we haven’t even had our first date yet.” You just shake your head as a soft laugh escapes you making Eddie smile.

“Whose fault is that huh?” Your voice is playful as you look back down at the ring on your finger.

“Oh it’s my fault…but I’m here now so…what do you say? Will you let me take you somewhere?” You can hear how hopeful he is and you know in your heart he isn’t anything like Jason and he’d never hurt you intentionally.

“Okay.” Eddie smiles as he brings his hands up to cup your face. “Don’t make me regret this.” You whisper as you lean into his touch and Eddie just nods and leans in to place a kiss to your forehead.

“You won’t..I promise.” You smile as he kisses your cheeks. “Oh and one more thing.” You raise an eyebrow as he drops his hands from your face so he can grab your hand that has his ring on it. “I’m going to need you to stop trying to give this back to me.” He explains as he twirls the skull ring around on your finger a few times.

“Then I need you to stop being an asshole and never make me sit in a bar for two hours waiting for you ever again.” Eddie just nods his head as he places your hands back in your lap.

“Deal.” With that he leans in and places a kiss to your lips making you smile as he pulls away. “Now how about we go have ourselves a first date Mrs. Munson.” You just laugh as he stands up and reaches his hand out to help you out of your chair.

[hellcatrising]

Time for a tag game everyone!!! Our blog in a tea cup

Plz try: @syneilesis @mllorei @yanderepuck @klutzyroses @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @candied-boys @weirdwriter69 @cheese-ception

[varpusvaras]

It's a pretty afternoon on Coruscant, for once.

They are standing just at the entrance of the Jedi Temple, waiting for Wolffe to come out, and Fox is enjoying his moment of sunlight without having a barrier over his head, when there is something flying towards his head. In a snap, he has raised his hand and caught whatever it is.

"Nice catch!" Fox looks over to see Wolffe jogging towards them, with a small bag in his hand. He glances down at his own hand and to whatever he had just caught.

It's a fruit of some sort, round and with a very light and soft pink color.

"Souvenirs from General Koon", Wolffe says, opening the bag in his hand. "He called these Hallous and said we had to try them."

He starts to give everybody else a fruit from the bag as well. It's moments like these that Fox kind of wishes he also had a Jedi, who would call them all by their names and give out fruits and other treats. Fox isn't even sure when the last time was that he actually ate fresh food.

Everybody is taking a bite out of their fruits already, not bothering to wait until Fox gets his musings to an end. They all seem to enjoy it with smiles on their faces, so Fox takes a bite as well.

Fox hadn't thought before this that it could be possible for a food to punch him inside his mouth, but now he has to believe it. The fruit is spicy like those hot peppers in the stew that Thorn had bought in one of the first weeks of their posting, and it leaves a rough, tingling afterburn in Fox's mouth. The same afterburn follows the piece of fruit down his throat when he swallows, making him cough.

Cody, who is standing closest to him in their circle, reaches to pat him on his back.

"Don't choke", he says. "Wolffe probably doesn't want to go and tell General Koon that his fruit killed you."

Fox draws in a deep breath. He looks all of them over. Rex and Bly are still munching on on their fruits, with not one twitch in their expressions.

Fox's eyes are burning with gathering tears. He hurries to wipe them away.

Is his spice tolerance this bad? He hadn't thought so before, but...

Fox looks back at the fruit in his hands, then back at the others. They are almost done with theirs.

Fox is not going to give them any more reasons to make fun of him. They've been doing it lately more than enough, about everything they just possibly can. He takes a second bite and keeps his face still.

He's almost out of breath after the last bite, but he doesn't let it show. Thankfully nobody is pointing it out, too busy with heckling Bly at the moment because he just happened to accidentally call his General by her given name.

The burning feeling inside his mouth and throat don't leave him fully until the next day. He really, really needs to work on his spice tolerance.

---

"Oh, love", Breha is giving him a slightly concerned smile. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine", Fox manages to mumble, before he has to sneeze again. Thank Manda, he already had a tissue in his hands. His eyes and nose are burning.

Breha sighs.

"I should've made sure", she says. "You haven't really lived anywhere with this much...nature, before."

"You couldn't have known", Fox coughs. "And really, the Kaminoan's were supposed to engineer us without these kind of promblems."

"I don't think that's possible, with how many of you there are", Breha says. "Some things like this must've slipped, or happened during the gestation."

Possibly. Fox is not going to pretend that he understands anything about genetics.

Breha leaves for a moment, and Fox hears her move around the kitchenette area their living quarters have. She comes back with a steaming cup in her hands.

"The Hallous are in season in the Northern Hemisphere", she tells him, setting the cup in his hands. "They make a sweet tea blend infused with them, and it's good for your immune system."

Right. Fox guesses that something that spicy might as well burn all the nasty gunk in his airways away, so he takes a sip. He scrunches up his nose a bit from how much it burns, and Breha gives him another tissue, before getting up again.

She comes back a few minutes later with her own cup, and starts on her work while calmly sipping from it.

Fox is honestly impressed. He hadn't thought that Breha had much of a spice tolerance. Bail certainly doesn't have, and much of the traditional food of Alderaan is very mild and puts great emphasis on clean flavours. Oh, well, he learns something new every day. This all just now means that even his wife has a better spice tolerance than him by far.

He finishes his tea. It doesn't make him feel any better, as now his throat is even more scratchy than it was before. All it really does is making him even more tired, but he can't really sleep because of how hard it is to breathe.

He glances longingly out of the window. It's pretty out there, with gentle sunlight and green trees and everything in blossom, and he is allergic to all of it.

Fox grumples and closes his eyes.

---

Bail comes home the next week with a mild cold, and Fox watches him drink the tea like it's water. Alright, now this is really just embarrassing.

---

Fox tugs nervously at the collar of his suit. It's dark blue and goes together with what Breha and Bail are wearing, and he suddenly feels like he is out of his depth. Wearing the armor had given them all some sort of anonymity, even to him with his distinct paint job. It's probably going to take a while until Fox gets used to people looking at him, and looking at him without it.

It's also still strange to not be the one who is standing on guard, but to be the one who is guarded. Fox's job tonight is to stand there, look presentable, and not make a scene.

Things are still a bit...tense. There have been deglarations of peace and all that, but in many places, it still feels like one wrong move can light up everything again.

Fox can't help himself but to keep an eye out for everything that happens in the room. This is the first time after the War that Breha has travelled anywhere that is not in the Deep Core, and Fox is not going to stop himself from feeling protective of her. She is his wife, after all, and Fox has all the training necessary to keep her safe, if the situation demands it.

In the meanwhile, he tries to fullfill his primary job. Stand there, look presentable, and do not make a scene. He is still new to his position, so he is not yet expected to make some deep political statements.

Stand there, look presentable, and do not make a scene. He can do this.

Things are going well when they are served the first drinks of the evening.

"Here, Your Majesty", the server gives Breha a glass first, and then turns to Bail and Fox. "Your Highnesses. We do appreciate a lot of the same flavours as you in the Deep Core, and I think you will find this drink familiar. It's made with Hallous concentrate, to bring out the natural flavour powerfully and really make it the star of the drink."

"Thank you", Breha smiles brightly at them. "That sounds lovely."

Fox also thanks the server as he takes his glass, and does not show anything as their host gives out a speech and then a toast, and drinks with the rest of the guests. He manages to keep his face still by breathing deeply through his nose. All those years of training saving him in this moment, even if nothing what he learned while growing up was supposed to prepare him for a situation like this.

The drink is awful. Absolutely disgusting, if you ask Fox. It's so spicy that it stops tasting like anything at first, and then leaves a raw, bitter burn all the way down to his chest. His tongue feels immediately like it doesn't fit into his mouth properly anymore, pressing painfully against his back teeth. Fox really, really does not understand how every single person in the room can drink something like this and not automatically make even the slightlest of faces. Is this really just a thing he doesn't understand about people who were born into Royalty? Is it really just that much of an acquired taste, and him not liking it just shows that he really is just a nobody compared to them all?

Fox is proud of how well he managed to power through it, all of those things concidered. He tries to swallow a bit, to wash the taste out even a little, but he's barely getting his own spit down.

He sucks in a breath between his teeth. It's not reaching his lungs properly, leaving him feel weirdly unsatisfied. He tries again. It's barely getting past his lips, which feel...oddly numb. Huh. Was the spice really hitting him that bad?

Then it hits him that he can't breathe.

Fox tries to swallow again. It gets stuck somewhere at the back of his throat, the same place where all the air is getting stuck as well, and he clears his throat a bit behind his hand. It helps a little, letting him get something down to his lungs, but Fox has been choked out before and he knows when it's not enough.

It's not enough.

Sateen is with them, and he is standing closest to Fox and Bail, with Breha's own bodyguards standing next to her, and Fox, in his rising panic, sees him turn towards him.

"Fox?" Sateen asks, keeping his voice low as he steps closer and carefully grabs Fox by the arm. "Are you alright?"

Fox tries to say no, but then there is white static taking over his eyes and he vaguely feels himself pitching forward-

-and he wakes up with something heavy on his face and a rush of cool air, and he gulps it up desperately. It enters his lungs with a deep, sweet relief, and then makes him cough.

There is a hand on his forehead, large and warm and familiar. Fox has the mind to open his eyes.

The first thing he sees is Bail's extremely concerned face above him, and then somebody else's as they lean closer to him.

"Deep breaths", they say, and Fox obeys. The more air he is getting in, the more aware he is becoming of his surroundings, and that is when he notices that there is a lot of commotion all around him.

He tries to look back up at Bail, to ask what is going on, but the other person telling him to breathe is really insistent of him doing just that and not talking, so Fox relents just for a moment longer.

He does glance around from the corner of his eyes, though. The whole room is in absolute chaos, with people shouting and screaming in a rising cacophony, and with multiple Guards in different uniforms trying to contain it all with seemingly very, very bad results.

The people leaning over him are talking something about oxygen levels and adrenaline and blood pressure and a lot more that Fox doesn't have the capacity to understand right now, so he just breathes.

He does feel a sense of disappointment in himself. His job had literally been just to stand there, look presentable and not cause a scene.

He isn't standing, most likely doesn't look presentable while lying on the floor, and this definitely counts as a scene.

Fox presses his eyes back shut. Just his luck.

---

Rex: I can't believe that you out of all of us managed to almost cause a full blown conflict because everybody thought you were poisoned, while you were just having an allergy attack

Rex: I thought that was a thing only Skywalker and General Kenobi were able to do

Fox: Shut up

Bly: No, no, really. You really couldn't tell that you were allergic to that stuff? You've seen all of us eat them with no problems!

Fox: You guys are all a bunch of weirdos, how was I supposed to know that you all didn't just enjoy eating shit like that?

Wolffe: Next time you see us eating something without problems while you are actively choking on it because it tastes like molten lava to you, please call us a bunch of weirdos out loud. That could save the Galaxy in the future, apparently

Fox: Cody, Ponds, they are bullying me. I almost died!

Ponds: and almost caused another conflict while doing so

Cody: Stop it, everyone. We're glad that you're okay, Fox'ika

Fox: Thank you. At least somebody here still loves me

Cody: BUT, there is a saying Obi-Wan used to say-

Fox shuts down his commlink at that point. Bail gives him a sympathetic look from the chair next to Fox's bed.

"Are they making fun of you?" He asks.

"Of course they are", Fox huffs, and then resists another urge to just reach to his back and scratch. "I almost died and I'm suffering and they're making fun of me."

Bail takes his hand gently to his.

"I'm not making fun of you", he says, with humour in his voice but enough soft love in his eyes that Fox lets it be for now.

"Thank you", Fox says, squeezing Bail's hand. Partly to show back affection, partly to stop himself from giving into the urge to scratch. "How long do I have left?"

Bail looks at his chrono.

"Another hour", he says. "I'm sorry. We just want to make sure this doesn't happen again."

"It's fine", Fox sighs. "I would rather it doesn't happen again, either, but why does testing for allergens take so long?"

"That, I do not know", Bail says. He then straightens up a bit to take a look at Fox's back.

Fox sees the grimace on his face, even though Bail tries his hardest to wipe it away quickly.

"I'm karked, aren't I?" Fox asks.

"Well, I wouldn't say so", Bail tries to smile placatingly at him. "I'm sure it's completely normal for it to look like that."

He, very wisely, understands to shut up after the next look Fox gives him.

[coryosbaby]

ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɪɴ: ʜᴏᴛ ꜱᴇxʏ ᴊɪɢꜱᴀᴡ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇɴᴛɪᴄᴇꜱ ɢᴇᴛ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴋʀᴏᴏᴍ!

Amanda young x fem! Reader

Content Warning . face riding, teasing, mommy kink

Amanda, ever the impatient, has decided to run her hands over you the moment that John leaves the jigsaw apprentice workshop. Her long red hair is soft in your hands as she presses your body against a metal table; never the gentle lover, she nips at your bottom lip with her teeth. She tastes like metal and strawberry chapstick and she’s making you dizzy with it, her legs slotting between yours to rub against your aching clit. You mewl, grinding against her to obtain friction.

“‘Manda,” you whine, your bottom lip trembling. “Please?”

She knows exactly what you’re asking for; you’ve been together long enough that she knows your thoughts in and out. She laughs, her fingers reaching down to press against your swollen button. Your eyes roll back at the simple touch, throwing your head back as the strap of your pink latex dress falls down past your shoulder. Amanda nips at your jugular with her tongue.

“My fingers, sweetheart?” She asks, though she already knows the answer. “You want my fingers inside your wet little cunt?”

You nod eagerly, adjusting yourself so your ass is placed on the table. Your knee sock clad feet bump against the side of the metal, and you let out a tiny squeak when Amanda grabs your hair in her hands.

“I want you to beg.”

Her voice is dark, a monotone of that sweet lilt you know so well, and you can feel heat creeping up your spine as you look at her with wide eyes.

“Please,” you manage to let out. “Please, mommy, please stick your fingers inside my pussy. ‘M so…” you hiccup, the arousal and subspace getting to you as you attempt to grind your poor little pussy against the table beneath you. “‘M so horny… I need you. It h-hurts, Mandy.”

Pouting—maybe mocking you, maybe genuine, you don’t know— Amanda coos to you as you squirm in front of her.

“Oh, sweet girl, I know. Cmon, why don’t you show mommy those pretty tits first? Then maybe I’ll think about it.”

Tears begin to well in your eyes, a cry bubbling from your throat at her teasing. You’re always so sensitive for her.

You move the straps of your dress down, your puffy nipples popping out of the fabric when you drag it down past them. Plump and pretty, Amanda doesn’t think she’s ever seen such cute tits.

You look up at her, biting your lip with doe eyes.

“Like that?” You ask softly.

The older woman lets out a breath of air, her own pussy clenching at the sight of her girlfriend’s beautiful body.

“Just like that, sweetie. Gonna play with them for me? Got mommy so wet just looking at them.”

You nod, the allowance of any type of stimulation making you giddy. You run your fingers over your nipples, the small peaks hard under your palms. You pinch them, rub them between your two small fingers. And then you use your full palm to grip your breasts harshly. The stimulation makes you moan, your tongue lolling out at the feeling of it. Amanda leans down to slide her tongue against your now revealed one, licking up your saliva. She moves your hands away from your chest and spits down on the valley in between your breasts. You moan at that, your pussy becoming incredibly hot as you feel her warm spit land on your skin.

“Nice and wet,” Amanda groans, reaching down to rub her aching pussy through her pants. “Cmon, rub it on those slutty tits. Be a good girl.”

Your fingers smooth out the saliva all over your tits, looking at Amanda with glazed eyes, practically begging for your cunt to be touched or to touch hers. She smiles, her thumb rubbing over her own cunt, and suddenly you desperately want to taste her.

“Want you to ride my face,” you mumble sweetly to her. “Please mommy?”

And god, the woman can’t resist that. Watching her begin to undo her belt, your mouth practically waters. A soft blush coats her cheeks as she pulls down her cargos and her underwear. She steps out of it, and you make room on the table so you can lay down. She hovers over your face, one second, then two, and you can smell her arousal from here and it’s so hot. She lowers herself down onto your face, and immediately your mouth latches onto her drenched cunt. She lets out a tiny moan, a few mutters making their way out of her kiss bitten mouth.

“Such a good girl.” She praises softly. “So, so good— just like that.”

Even with her usual dominant demeanor, your pussy eating skills are off the charts and Amanda has to be a little speechless at times during it. Her wetness drips down your chin, your own pooling in your underwear as you try to rut against the table for some friction. Her hands dig into your scalp, and you can feel yourself getting dizzy because you haven’t came up for air yet but honestly it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters to you right now is making Amanda cum.

Her taste invades you, so perfectly sweet and tangy all at once. You rub circles with the tip of your tongue over her swollen clit and she grinds down into you once more. Your hands move to grasp the soft flesh of her ass; you can’t help but spread her cheeks apart to gain more control, and she lets you. Until it’s to that point where she’s about to cum.

She grabs your wrists from behind her and pins them over your head. She uses the momentum to grind down onto your face, but also give you a bit of air.

“Eating mommy’s pussy so good,” she whines out. “‘M gonna cum, baby, gonna cum all over that slutty little mouth..”

Your legs twitch with arousal as her words flood your brain, and you can’t think about anything else but Amanda as she orgasms on top of you. You slurp up her cum greedily, moaning desperately into her drenched heat as she rides your tongue for the very last time. She sighs, moving her body back a bit, and you pull off of her overstimulated cunt with a light pop. She looks down at you as you take big gasps of air.

“Did I do good, mommy?” You say sweetly. Amanda smiles.

“Did amazing, baby.”

Her fingers reach back and rub over your panties, and you mewl in excitement.

“Might just give you a reward.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Black Light 2

Warnings: namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: someone said August.

Part of The Club AU

"Kam," you tug on Kamlai's arm, "we have to go."

The guy she's with gropes her from behind, grinding on her as she keeps him from tugging up her skirt. She gives you a look. The look. Please.

"Dude," she elbows the spiky-haired pervert, "get off."

He's reluctant until she stomps his toes. She yells at him in Thai, you're not sure what, and sways his arms away from her. You shake your head as you pull her free of his embrace.

"Where's Manda?" She asks with a slur dragging her tongue.

"Dunno," you cling to her, "that weirdo tried to roofie me."

"Huh?" She yells behind you.

"Put something in my drink."

"Ew," she nearly bowls you over as you stop short.

"Yeah, uhhhh," you look around, "where would she–"

"Gross!" She points over your shoulder, "typical."

You follow the direction of her finger to Amanda tangled up, macking on the guy she picked from the lot. Ugh, she really has to be the one and only. You roll your eyes and haul Kam with you as you approach.

"Amanda," you call above the music, "let's go."

She doesn't stop. Doesn't seem to hear you as you latch onto her arm. It's only then she turns her head, the guy's mouth almost continuing its sloppy work on her ear.

"Fuck off!" She shakes free of you and shoos you with the flick of her acrylics.

"Manda," you shout, "we gotta go."

"I'm having fun," she barks back, "you wanna go home, go."

"But–"

"Fuck her," Kam pulls you back. "Look."

You turn with her and look across the room, Cole and the spiky blond staring in your direction, chatting to each other. Shit. You thought the bouncer scared him off.

"But…" you spin to face Kam.

"Nope, not sticking around for her. She got the hot one anyway."

Kam lets go of you and stomps off in her heels, ankles threatening to bend as her arms swing violently. You trail her in a tenous scramble, hands sligthly out to keep from toppling. The flashing lights and the pumping music add to the disarming atmosphere.

The cool night breeze beckons to you through the open door. Kamlai is first out but as you exit, you run into the elbow of an unsuspecting barrier. The same bouncer as before recoils and grumbles.

"Sorry," you smile sheepishly. "You okay?"

He stares at you, his face drowned in shadows, "yeah," he answers dryly, "I'll survive."

You cringe and brush by to catch up with Kam. The glow of her phone lights up her features as her pointed nails tap.

"Calling an uber," she mumbles, "I can't believe Amanda. She's so stupid."

"Mmm," you peek back at the doors. "Maybe we should go back and get her."

"You think she'd help you? She's selfish," Kam sniffs, "remember the school trip to New York?"

"Uh huh," you squint at the dark figure beside the door. You can't tell if he's looking at you but it feels like he is. "I… guess you're right."

"You know I am," she scoffs.

🥂

Just after noon, you wake to the chirp of your phone. You snatch it blindly, rolling over to check the messages. Just Kamlai whining how hungover she is. Mood.

There's a notification that Amanda posted a story. You check it, anxiously, relieved at least to see her alive in the video, though unimpressed at the naked back of the man next to her. If she wants to make Seth jealous, you're sure she's doing a great job.

You get up and get going, the previous night following you around as it rattles in your head and mulches in your stomach. Such a happy birthday, almost drugged and ditched by your supposed bff. And that bouncer… a bit gruff but you can't deny he saved you.

Hmmm. You know exactly how to thank him!

🥂

You walk up to the club. It's not yet open and in the light of day, it's a bit less showy. As you approach, you see a face you recognize. The second bouncer, the pudgy one, yawns as he struts up to the doors.

"Oh, sir, sir," you run forward, your skirt fluttering around your legs, "hi."

He looks at you woth a crooked smirk, "why, hello, darlin'."

"Uh, hello," you reply, "um, I'm looking for your friend."

"Friend?" He frowns.

"Um, yes, the tall one! The other one," you explain poorly, you can't even remember what he looks like.

"Auggy? Ah, well, he should be 'round," he thinks, "didn't think he was seeing anyone."

"Oh, no, no, no," you deny, "I was only hoping to thank him. He really helped me out so I bought some cookies from Marie's…"

"Cookies, you say? I might know where to find him for a price."

"Uh, sure," you open the lid, "snicker doodle?"

He smirks and takes a cookie. He chuckles as he turns on his heel and heads for the door. He elbows it open as he swallows, "hey, Aug, out here."

He lets the door close and you wait on the stoop. You bounce impatiently and after a few minutes, the hinges grind again. You look up as the large man pokes his head out with a dull stare.

"Oh, hi," you keep your smile wide. You didn't notice last night the scars along the right side of his face. A curved ripple around his temple, and several long marks down his cheek and jaw. His eye is completely white and part of his eye brow permanently shorn.

"What?" He snarls.

"Oh, I… you might not remember me, but you uh, you helped me last night so I just wanted to thank you."

He sneers and doesn't react. You open the box and angle it towards him.

"Cookies!"

He stares. Silent.

"Cause you were so nice–"

He steps out completely and you lean away, but don't retreat. He grabs a cookie gruffly and holds it up. He wraps his fist around it and crushes it, letting the crumps rain to the ground.

"I don't want your fucking pity, you bimbo," he slaps the box out of your hands as he looms over you, "so why don't you get the fuck out of here?"

You stand in shock, hands still out as you look at the cookies littered over the pavement. You gape at him and fold your arms over your stomach.

"Why–"

"I said go," he growls, "don't let me see ya back her either."

He steps forward, half a lunge that has you staggering backward. You let out a pathetic squeak as you spin and flit away. You get halfway down the street before you look back over your shoulder.

Wow, he didn't have to be so mean. If he didn't like snickerdoodles, he could just say so.

[bueckerrss]

dangerous women

matt x fem! latina! reader

warnings: drug deals, guns, car races

the reader will speak a lot of spanish in this series because my inspiration for this series is griselda a colombian drug lord.

————————————————————————

New york

“MARCOS!” she yelled for her assistant to go to her office.

“yes, ms. blanco?” the timid man said afraid to look her in the eyes “i need you to make a flyer for a new transporter, i recently got rid of the other one. he asked too many questions and we simply can’t have that here.”

“got rid of him in what way?” he mumbled making her look at him with a straight face “do you want me to get rid of you too?” she said not breaking eye contact with him.

“no maam” he mumbled walking away “oh and get the jet ready we’re going back to LA tonight.” she said before he left the room.

-

back in LA

matt was looking at his monitors frantically switching between computers and other devices in front of him.

“matt, you need to catch a break you’ve been staring at those screens for hours nothing is going to change!” chris said as he saw his brother look from one screen to the next.

“that’s the thing chris something will eventually change or she’ll be seen somewhere!” he exclaimed turning his chair to face his brother.

beep.

both of the brothers turned around to noise to see a picture of y/n getting into her jet in brown dress pants with a black shirt, black stilettos and a brown coat over her shoulders.

“told you something would change!” matt exclaimed frantically typing out some information on another screen.

“so? she’s getting on a jet big deal! come downstairs and eat lunch” chris exclaimed as he was walking out of the room.

shaking his head and turning around to face the computer screen in front of him, matt let out a sigh.

-

sitting in her office dim lights as men came in and out for interviews none of them satisfied her for this special job, until a man 5’8 with brown hair blue eyes in all black walked in.

scanning the man in front of her y/n sat up straight in her chair and looked at him.

“hello.” she said monotoned “this is for the transporter job right?” said the man in a confident voice which the women admired.

“it certainly is. now what’s your name pretty boy?” she asked eyeing him.

“Matthew Sturniolo”

“well take a seat mr.sturniolo” she said pointing to a chair in front of her, the man took a seat making eye contact with the woman in front of him.

“first question, do you have any idea who i am?” she said firmly. “you’re y/n blanco one of the most wanted and powerful women cartel in both new york and los angeles.” he replied with confidence.

“you’ve done your research?” she said raising her eyebrows surprised that he knew her but then again she was the most wanted drug lord almost her whole life was on display.

“maybe” he responded “next question, how old are you?” she questioned “why youre trying to ask me out on a date?” he cocked his eyebrow suppressing a smile, she just glared at him. “sorry, i’m 25 years old” he responded “do you have a driver’s license?” she asked “yes” he affirmed.

before she could get more of her questions out the phone on her desk began to ring making both of them look at it. “bueno?” she spoke into the phone “como que juan no hizo la entrega? manda luis a mi oficina ahora mismo!” she hung up the phone, before matt could ask any question there was a knock at the door making him turn around.

“adelante” a 6’4 tattooed muscular man walked in looking at y/n “me hablo señora?” he asked his eyes moving to matt who sat on the chair “si, necesito que le hagas una visita a juan, ya sabes que hacer y hazlo rápido, asegúrate que nadie te mire entrar o salir de ahí!” he nodded taking in his orders leaving the room closing the door behind him.

“sorry about that, where were we?” she cleared her throat looking at the blue eyed man in front of her “you were asking me questions” he smiled at her “right the interview!” she mumbled looking down at the questions in front of her.

————————————————————————

“chapter” 1 of dangerous women complete! i hope you guys enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed making it i have a lot of ideas for this series so im super excited! sorry if my spanish is wrong or bad im used to just speaking it and not writing it 😭 (pls don’t tell my mom she’ll be mad if she knew i was forgetting how to write in spanish 😕) but thank you so much for reading this!

————————————————————————-

[hellcatrising]

Larian really gave us Gortash and said

"No you can't get back with your toxic ex."

[libbylubb]

My Heaven - Amanda Lehan Canto and Angela Giarratana

Amanda and Angela was driving to set. Angela was behind the wheel. They were singing along with I’m gonna be (500 miles) by the proclamers. Amanda placed her hand on Angela’s thigh, tapping the rhythm with her hand. Angela smiled, glancing over to her wife. They were driving to the Smosh set, ready for an intense day of shooting and meetings. “Another bruise?” Angela asked grabbing Amanda’s hand, looking at the wrist. “Eh, it’s nothing,” Amanda waived it off. Angela gave her a look, “you need to get more iron in you babe, I don’t like to see my baby blue,” Amanda giggled, kissing Angela on the cheek as she parked the car. They got out and walked hand in hand together.

“Good morning Ang and Amanda!” Shayne greeted, smiling bright with his coffee in hand. “Did you guys have a good weekend?” He asked, sipping his coffee. “Yes we did, thank you. And you? How are things with the wife?” Amanda asked, “good, good, as always,” he smiled. Amanda and Angela got settled in as the morning meeting was about to start.

Amanda shivered, Angela looked away from Ian, focussing on Amanda. She frowned, placing a hand on her thigh, “you okay?” Amanda was confused herself, however she just nodded, patting Angela’s hand. She didn’t take it away. In fact held it there in place. She loved Angela so much it was crazy. Amanda admired Angela as she looked at Ian. She smiled to herself and leaned over to kiss her jaw gently. Angela blushed, squeezing Amanda’s thigh. “Wanna get out of here?” Amanda asked into Angela’s ear. Her eyes went wide. Angela turned, redness covering her soft cheeks. “We just got here,” Angela said. Amanda rolled her eyes, “I just wanna eat you out,” Angela chocked on air. She thanked herself for sitting in the back where basically no one sat. “Baby,” Angela whispered, looking up into her eyes. She froze, seeing the craziest fuck me eyes. Or well, I wanna fuck you eyes. Angela just nodded, “when the meeting is done,” she added. Amanda rolled her eyes again, mumbling boring as she leaned back in her seat. Then yet another chill came over her.

“Jesus Christ,” Angela moaned, holding onto Amanda’s hair, hard. Amanda worked her tongue as best as she could in this position. “I’m close,” Angela groaned, jerking her hips. She pulled Angela closer with her hands on her hips. Amanda closed her eyes to concentrate but quickly opening them as she got dizzy. “‘Manda!” And with a breathy moan she came all over Amanda’s face. Amanda smiled, licking up everything. “Mmm’ pretty baby,” Amanda whispered, kissing up Angela’s stomach, her breasts, collarbone, neck, jaw then finally her lips. Angela smiled into the kiss, closing her legs just to move over to straddle her. Even though it was quite difficult. “We need a bigger car,” Angela mumbled. Amanda giggled, admiring her naked wife. “May I?” Angela asked, her pupils were blown. Amanda looked at the time, “not really, we have to be on set and ready in five,” Angela nodded, kissing all over Amanda’s face. “We’ll take it tonight. Whatever got into you this morning I fucking love,” Amanda giggled, feeling herself sweat more than usual. Angela kissed cheek, “I love you so much Amanda, I really hope you know that,” Angela whispered, “I love you too, more than you can ever imagine,” Amanda held Angela close to her for a little, taking in her heart to her heart. She hummed, Angela pulled away. “Jesus, you’re sweating like a pig,” she mumbled, feeling her forehead. “Ehm, that’s not very nice to say,” Amanda said, holding Angela’s lower back. Angela frowned, “Jesus, you’re running a fever,” “Angela, we’ll be late,” Amanda said, trying to push it off as if it was nothing. “No baby, you’re going home, you can’t be sick and at work,” Angela said, grabbing her clothes and getting dressed. Amanda sighed, taking on her shirt.

That was two weeks ago.

Amanda had only gotten worse and finally agreed to go to the doctors this afternoon. But now, she was lying in bed. The rain softly rolling down the window. Angela sat beside her on her phone. She only wore her panties, duvet covering her bottom half. Amanda was sleeping next to her, soft snores leaving her once in a while. Ever since Amanda had only gotten worse, Angela didn’t manage to sleep properly, she was so worried something was seriously wrong. She sighed, putting her phone away. She removed one pillow and laid down. Amanda was facing the other way. Angela lightly touched Amanda’s back, tracing her spine. Tears welled up in her eyes, noticing how thin she had gotten. Angela had noticed her eating less, but this wasn’t normal. Angela let out a sob as she hugged Amanda from behind.

Amanda woke up, her whole body in pain. It took her a moment to realize Angela was crying. She bit her lip and turned around, embracing Angela. Amanda softly rocked her, humming a tune. Angela started calming down but still held onto Amanda. “I’m so scared,” Angela mumbled, sitting up in Amanda’s lap. Amanda wiped her tears away, stroking her hair. She noticed her wife hadn’t been sleeping well, but didn’t know what to do. She gently bounced Angela, holding her tight to her body. “It’s okay, I’ll be okay,” Angela bit her lip, trying not to cry out loud. “But baby, my princess,” Angela looked at her. “Try to sleep some while I’m at the doctors, okay?” Angela immediately shook her head, “I’m going with you,” Angela protested. Amanda sighed, gently touching Angela’s cheek. “Shayne and Courtney are coming over before my appointment. Shayne is gonna drive me and Courtney will stay here and watch you get some sleep. Okay?” Amanda said calmly. Angela just started crying again, sobbing into her neck. “Please be okay, please be okay. Please, God, let her be okay,” Angela whimpered. Amanda held her tightly, her bones feeling weak. She was scared herself.

They managed to get out of bed, not without addressing the weight loss however. Amanda turned Angela around from the mirror so she couldn’t look at her skinny figure. “I’m okay,” Amanda tried to comfort her. Angela sat down on the floor, silent crocodile tears rolling down her cheek. Amanda finally got fully dressed. She then helped Angela up from the floor, helping her dress into some comfy clothes. Just then, the doorbell rang.

They walked together to the living room, the married couple supporting each other. Angela sat Amanda down on the couch, then rushing to open the door. “Jesus,” Shayne mumbled seeing how Angela was such a wreck. Courtney and Shayne walked in, Courtney taking off her shoes. Shayne hugged Angela tightly, letting a single tear roll down her cheek. “I’ll watch over her as good as I can,” Shayne said, Angela nodded, “you better,” she whispered back to him. Courtney hugged Angela afterwards, then walking into the living room to be met with an awful sight of Amanda. Courtney bit her lip, walking over to kiss her forehead. She helped Amanda up. “I’m okay, I can walk myself,” Amanda said, smiling and hugging Courtney. “Please, make sure she sleeps,” Amanda whispered. Courtney nodded walking over to meet the two others.

Amanda walked over, hugging Shayne. He was just as shocked as Courtney was. Angela clang onto Amanda. Amanda smiled softly, holding her close. “I’ll be okay, I promise you that,” Angela shook her head, not believing her. Amanda sighed, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll see you soon,” Angela nodded slowly, hugging one more time before walking over to Courtney. She bit her lip from crying, hugging Courtney’s side. Shayne smiled sadly to Angela before helping Amanda out to the car. “Shayne, I’m not that ill,” Amanda protested. “I know that, but Angela is watching,” he said, getting into the drivers seat. Amanda glanced over, seeing Angela by the kitchen window looking at her like a lost puppy. Amanda’s heart stung at the sight, getting into the car.

The ride home was quiet, the only sound playing was the radio. I’m gonna be (500 miles) by the proclamers was on. Amanda started crying when she heard it. Shayne’s heart stung at that moment, he grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. She silently sobbed the rest of the car ride home. When they arrived Amanda took some time to compose herself. She hoped Angela was asleep, and that she could get some time to herself. Even though sleep sounded really nice. Shayne and Amanda got out of the car, getting into the house. They were silent, both broken at the news. Shayne spotted Courtney in the living room, he walked over, and Amanda followed. Courtney knew immediately that it didn’t go well, she teared up. Shayne and Amanda’s didn’t know their heart could be more broken, but now it was. Angela was sleeping in a ball, her head on Courtney’s lap. She was wearing Amanda’s hoodie, and some panties. That was all. She was holding Amanda’s teddy bear with both her hands. Amanda smiled a little, silently thanking Courtney. She was about to pick Angela up but stopped, knowing she probably shouldn’t for her health’s sake. “Could you do it?” She asked, taking a step back. Shayne nodded and gently picked up Angela. They all walked up to their bedroom, Courtney supporting Amanda, holding her hand.

Shayne gently laid Angela down under the covers. Amanda thanked them both, not telling Courtney, knowing Shayne would. Amanda looked at Angela, snoring softly. She smiled, adoring her wife. She thanked the other couple as they left. Right then and there, she decided she was going to act as normal as possible, to not let the illness stop them both from having fun. Amanda started to undress, leaving only her panties on. She bit her lip when she walked by the mirror. She sighed, getting in next to Angela. She grabbed around Angela and pulled her on top of her. It was quite comfortable, Angela had lost weight as well, so she wasn’t quite heavy. Not that she was heavy before. Angela was so worried for Amanda it pained her to see. Amanda took her hand underneath Angela’s hoodie, or well, her hoodie, gently stroking her back. Angela stirred awake, Amanda noticed. Her hand stopped, taking a deep breath. But before she could ever start a word Angela cut her off with her lips. She gently kissed her. Amanda smiled into the kiss. Angela pulled away, “I don’t want you to tell me, not now,” Angela whispered. Amanda nodded, hugging Angela tightly. “Can I take your hoodie off?” Angela smiled and nodded. Amanda took off Angela’s hoodie. She cuddled up to Amanda in her embrace. “Love you,” Angela whispered, “I love you too baby,” Amanda answered, stroking her hair. Angela’s head was in Amanda’s breast, loving her favourite pillow. Slowly, but surely, they fell asleep.

When Angela got the news, she couldn’t stop crying. Amanda tried to explain that she would be okay, but the word Leukemia, blood cancer, was so scary. Angela cried and cried, her head and stomach hurting. She clang to Amanda for dear life, praying and doing whatever she could.

“I have to go to the hospital, tomorrow. Will you join me?” Amanda asked after a little while. Angela had stopped crying, she had no more tears to shed. Angela had been studying her wife’s face for a while now, remembering every little detail about her. “I love you,” Angela said, smiling softly. “Will you go with me?” “I love you,” “Angela,” “answer me!” Angela broke, biting her lip hard, almost making it bleed. Amanda kissed her making Angela release her lip. “Angela Giarratana, I, your wife, love you more than anything in this world. And I will continue to love you for the rest of my life. Will you go with me to the hospital?” Amanda said, cupping Angela’s cheeks. “Not even a question, of course I will,”

They hugged each other tightly, Angela feeling so content in her partners arms. “We have to tell work. Tomorrow, before the hospital,” Amanda said, “they deserved to know,” Angela nodded, kissing Amanda. She hummed, grabbing Angela’s ass. Angela let out a squeal, pulling away. They smiled at each other.

—

“Thank you, everyone for coming to this meeting. I’m sorry to wake you guys earlier than usual but this is a very important matter,” Amanda started, Angela nodded, holding Amanda’s hand. “You’re having a baby!” Arasha said, Amanda shook her head as Angela smiled at the idea, her face suddenly dropping. “Me and Angela will take some time off, because I…” Amanda froze, looking at everyone’s faces, knowing how much it would affect them all. Angela squeezed her hand. Amanda looked down at her. Angela gave her a reassuring smile. She smiled back, “I have cancer,” she looked up to see the people reaction. She bit her lip, maybe regretting it. “If you have any questio-“ almost everyone raises their hands. She was a bit taken aback, “questions, you can ask Shayne. Me and Angela have to get to the hospital,”

—

It had been one week and Amanda was doing surprisingly well. She had handled it great and hadn’t felt super nauseous. Angela, on the other hand, cried almost every day. She had the most insane headaches and slept horribly. She threw up every morning from the lack of sleep and food. She used all her energy on keeping Amanda well, and yet she felt horrible herself. Currently, Amanda was getting ready for another round of chemo. Of course she wasn’t 100% but she was quite good, maybe 80%. Angela was holding Amanda’s hand as they walked, she constantly checked on Amanda, asking if she needed anything at all. “Angela, baby, could you-?” “Yes? Yes, what do you need?” Angela smiled. Amanda was a bit taken aback, she stopped in her tracks, cupping Angela’s cheeks. “Could you relax for me? It pains me to see you in distress. Maybe you could go visit Courtney and Shayne, take a break from the hospital?” Amanda suggested, kissing the top of her head. Angela shook her head as they started walking again. “No, no I have to stay here with you,” Angela protested. Amanda loved having her here, but this chemo would take so much out of her, she couldn’t see the worry Angela had, it pained her so much.

Amanda sighed, sitting down in the chair and getting hooked up to the chemo treatment. Amanda was extremely thankful that her cancer wasn’t chronic. Angela held her hand tightly, “baby, please,” Angela shook her head, her leg shaking up and down. Her eyes were so puffy, she was blue under her eyes and looked sloppy. “Angela, you’re getting worse with every second. I’m okay, I will be okay,” Amanda tried. Angela shook her head again, kissing her cheek. “I can’t leave you,” Amanda sighed, “baby, it’s okay,” “no, no, no it’s not okay Amanda. What if I leave, and everything goes wrong. What if you suddenly die and I’m not there. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened. I need you to be okay, I need you to be okay, I need you to be okay..” Angela whispered the last part, hands together. “I know, Angela, but this isn’t healthy for you. You haven’t been outside in ages. I’m worried for you,” Amanda said, stroking Angela’s cheek. “Don’t you think I’m worried for you, you have cancer Amanda!” She said loudly, the other people in the room looked in their direction. Amanda apologized, grabbing Angela’s jaw firmly. “Angela. I’m fully aware of that, and I’m trying my best to keep it together. But it doesn’t help when you’re acting like this. It’s not what I need right now,” Amanda said, maybe a bit too harshly. “Amanda…” Angela whispered, tearing up. “Jesus, I’m sorry darling,” Amanda cupped Angela’s cheeks. She pulled away.

“Amanda I need you to be okay, I need you. I can’t do this without you. I’m sorry for being so protective and wanting you to be okay but I-I-“ Angela went quiet, looking away. Amanda placed her hand on Angela’s thigh. “What is it, baby?” “I’m pregnant,” Angela said, looking at Amanda. “When we went to the doctor and I got injected, I didn’t have that much hope. But i i-i know we both kind of forgot about it when you got sick. But the last few weeks I’ve been throwing up for more reasons than not eating or sleeping… im pregnant, we’re gonna have a baby,” Amanda smiled for the first time in a long time, with a swift move she kissed Angela deeply. Angela chuckled into the kiss. “If you want, I’ll go to Courtney and Shayne’s house. They live close by so if anything you have to call me,” Angela said, relieved that she got out about the pregnancy. Amanda smiled, “I’d appreciate that… you really need to take care of yourself, my girl,” Angela blushed, loving that nickname. “Only cause I’m your girl,” they giggled. Amanda had to hide it, she was starting to get nauseous and was definitely not feeling like talking, her 80% had just dropped down to 40%.

“Alright, I’ll go grab my things and leave for Courtney and Shayne. Anything you want me to wash there?” Amanda shook her head, scared if she spoke she would puke. Angela smiled, “I’ll call you tonight…” Amanda nodded again. Angela leaned down to kiss Amanda’s lips softly before she walked off, yawning and rubbing her eyes. The second Angela was out of her sight, she grabbed the bucket beside her and threw up.

When she was done she held the bucket in her lap, closing her eyes and leaning back in the chair. “You guys are a cute couple,” Amanda heard a voice. She looked over and saw an old man smiling to her. He looked tired, he was bald but had an inspiring smile. “Thank you,” she mumbled, not really wanting to talk. “It’s alright, I get the nausea. I had that my first time too,” he said, holding his hands together. He was in a wheelchair, had a jaw that hanged a bit and droopy eyes. Amanda looked at him. “You have gorgeous hair, I’m sorry that might fall out. You will grow it out again, I’m sure. I won’t, but I’m just old,” he said, chuckling to himself. Amanda chuckled, enjoying his company. “My wife was just like yours when she was alive,” he continued. Amanda listened. “She never left my side when I had cancer 20 years ago. She passed away last year,” he mumbled the last part, “but I enjoyed her company, I adored how she cared for me. Even though she could be a real son of a bitch I loved her,” they both laughed. “Oh, Marleen was so funny, the way she danced in the moonlight and always said: you’re the closest to heaven I will ever get. My Marleen never thought she’d make it to heaven, she had so much sorrow within… she couldn’t get pregnant you see, she thought that made her bad and it made her go to hell,” he chuckled and shook his head, “I don’t care where I go, as long as I follow her. Even if that’s to hell,” the man smiled. Amanda smiled as well and opened her mouth, “I-i just found out she’s pregnant,” Amanda said softly, smiling widely. “Oh, that’s great, congratulations,” he clapped his hands once, looking around the room. “This room… so sad,” Amanda nodded, “we ended up adopting have four kids,” he suddenly said. “Well they are adults now and have their own family. They wouldn’t want to be bothered by me, an old man… someone they can almost call their father,” he said. It was clear he wanted someone there for him, maybe Amanda could be that for him. “I’m here for you,” “but you and I both have to be here,” he stated. Amanda bit her lip, leaning her head back, “that’s true… I haven’t told my family. Not because I don’t think they wouldn’t care, but they wouldn’t leave me alone. I mean, just look at my wife, my family is worse than her,” the old man laughed a good old man laugh. “I’m Tom,” “Amanda,”

—

It’s been eight months since then, seven months since Tom died. Amanda can’t get their conversation out of her mind. She was thinking of Tom, and how in pain he had been in. Amanda was doing much better however. She was out of the hospital and enjoyed living life. As well as that, Amanda’s hair had finally started growing out again. She was kind of tired wearing bandanas all the time, even though she rocked them! “I’m so glad you’re better,” Shayne said, hugging Amanda. Her mind drifted off to Tom again. She half smiled and nodded, “where did you go?” He asked, noticing the lost look in her eyes. “Just thinking of someone I met, an old friend I guess you could say,” Amanda said, looking over at Angela, sleeping on a sun bed. Courtney walked over, her hand slipping around Shayne’s waist, “she fell asleep,” Courtney said. Amanda chuckled, “well, of course, carrying a baby boy cannot be easy,” Amanda said, sipping her water before walking over to her. She sat down on the bed beside her, stroking Angela’s hair. She hummed softly, grabbing a blanket in the box behind her, taking it over her. Angela smiled in her sleep. “I’m so lucky,” Angela whispered, Amanda smiled, stroking Angela’s belly gently. “I’m luckier… I’ll love you forever, you’re the closest to heaven I will ever be.”

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: when ezra overhears sabine reciting a mandalorian custom, ezra regrets all the years he's missed out on. word count: 1K a/n: i came up with this fic during my mando'a studies. my goal is to someday write an entire fic in mando'a, complete with a work skin that'll include a mando'an font. that dream is still many years off though, but until then, here's a fic inspired by a little bit of manda-lore i've learned!   taglist:@laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

Here For You Now

 It took Ezra a moment to figure out why he'd fallen asleep on the floor, less than a foot away from his bed. He would've totally assumed that he'd fallen off the bed in his sleep again (it was less than a foot's drop; he'd slept through it before,) but the pile of blankets underneath him told him this was definitely intentional. He couldn't quite piece together why he would've done something like this though— until he heard a murmured whisper coming from the bed, a voice he almost thought he was just imagining again, until he remembered that yesterday was the day he'd spent over a decade waiting for.

 Sabine had found him.

 And, since his trailer offered little in the way of comfort, he'd let Sabine take the bed and offered to sleep on the floor instead. Good hospitality, he'd called it, something he'd learned well from the Noti, and also a way to say "thank you" for coming all this way just to bring him home. (And in actuality, he'd never make his favorite person in this [and any] galaxy sleep on the floor— and also he knew he'd irreversibly stumble over his words if he suggested they try to share the bed.)

 But despite being on the floor and definitely sore from it, it was one of the best wakeups he'd had in years— certainly the one that ushered in the most hope along with it. 

Though he'd never lost faith in Sabine, hope had been in short supply the past year or so— that is, until yesterday, when the Noti had told him that they found a girl ("your girl," their language put it, and he was too ecstatic to disagree) and she'd come to the camp looking for him. He'd never thought she'd looked more beautiful than she did when she saw him, and gave him a smile that conveyed the same genuine joy and total disbelief he was feeling.

 And now he woke up knowing she was here, and it wasn't another stupid dream about her return: she was on Perida, actually with him, quietly chanting something in Mando'a.

 "Ni su'cuyi gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum."

 Ezra wasn't sure what she was mumbling about, but it felt almost like some kind of meditation, or a prayer. His interest was piqued when he heard the next two words, and he looked up to see her sitting cross legged with her eyes closed.

 "Kanan Jarrus. Ursa Wren. Alrich Wren. Tristan Wren. Ahsoka Tano. Ni su'cuyi gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum."

 Sabine sighed, and there was a moment of silence.

 "What's that?" Ezra asked, once he was sure she'd finished.

 "Ah-wha?" Sabine started, apparently not having known Ezra was even awake "it's nothing. Just an old Mandalorian tradition. I didn't mean to wake you up. Did you sleep alright?"

 "What kind of old Mandalorian tradition?" Ezra asked, completely disregarding her attempts to divert the conversation.

 "Nothing," Sabine shook her head.

 "Didn't seem like nothing to you."

 "Well, it's nothing that matters to you," Sabine said.

 "Everything you…" Ezra stopped mid-sentence, knowing that if he said "everything you say maters to me," she might start to think he had feelings for her— which he did, but he was pretty sure she still didn't feel the same way, and he didn't want to run the risk of scaring off his only ride back home. So, he switched trains of thought.

 "You mentioned Kanan," Ezra shook his head.

 Sabine looked at him, and in her eyes he saw the softness and pain she was trying all too well to hide. He smiled slightly, nodded slightly, raised his eyebrows slightly, tried to remind her with merely a look that her secrets were safe with him.

 Sabine sighed.

 "It's a remembrance," she offered, "'I am alive, but you are dead.'" she shook her head as she choked out the words, "'I remember you, so you are eternal.'"

 Ezra smiled a little at the sentiment, at keeping the memory of someone alive long after they're gone— but then he realized that the names of her family were included in that list.

 "You mentioned your family too," Ezra said, quietly, "Are they…?"

 Sabine nodded, "they're gone."

 "And Ahsoka?"

 "I think so," she said, the words petering out as a single breath.

 Ezra thought he saw a tear trickle down her cheek as she looked away from him. He didn't fight the urge to climb up onto the bed next to her and wrap an arm around her for comfort. He realized after he did so that he'd taken a gamble, and she was likely to be annoyed by his attempt to comfort her, so he was surprised when, instead of twisting away from him, she actually leaned closer, accepting the shoulder he gave her to cry on.

 "I'm so sorry, Sabine," Ezra whispered, with no idea what other words he could even offer.

 "There's nothing you could've done," Sabine said, "there's nothing anyone could've done."

 Ezra remembered thinking the same thing when the empire took his parents, that there was nothing anyone could've done to help him— but that didn't mean he didn't want anyone to.

 "I could've been there for you," Ezra shook his head, "I should've been there for you. Kriff, I've missed out on so much."

 Sabine lifted her head off his shoulder and looked up at him.

 "But I am here for you now," Ezra said, letting go of her and resting his hand on the bed behind her, "if you wanna talk about it at all."

 Sabine shook her head and looked away.

 "I don't wanna talk about it."

 "Alright," Ezra nodded, "is there anything I can do?"

 "Could you just sit here with me?" Sabine asked.

 "Absolutely," Ezra smiled.

 They treasured a moment's silence, before Sabine leaned a little closer, resting her head on his arm again. She glanced up at him as a smile crossed his face, and he rested his head on top of hers.

 Maybe he hadn't been there for her for the last few years. Maybe there were a lot of moments she'd needed him that he missed out on.

 But this moment? It wasn't going to be one of them— he was here for her now, and that's what mattered.

 And he wasn't going to stop being there for her ever again.

[munson-blurbs]

Ghostin' (Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader): Chapter 8

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

Summary: With Vecna defeated, Little Bean has decided to make an arrival--a month early. But you still have a lot of tough decisions to make, and they may require encouragement from surprising sources.

Warnings: depictions of labor, injuries, S4 is canon

WC: 2.9k

A/N: The final chapter! I hope you all enjoyed this series :)

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

Taglist: @kaybee87 @sidthedollface2 @chelebelletx @livsters @atombombbibunny @tattooedkiss13 @manda-panda-monium @charming-winchester @corroded-hellfire @sweet-villain @slightlyvicked @hxllfired @yogizzz @tlclick73 @thefreakofhawkins86 @sheisjoeschateau @harrypotteranna23-blog @harringr0ve @josie955 @luna-munson83 @blhemmings @lxvesickreality @palmtreesx3 @stephierro

The ride to the hospital is far too long for your liking, even with Murray flying over the speed limit. You sit in the backseat with Steve, who whispers sweet nothings in your ear to keep you relaxed, and Joyce, who spends the drive rubbing your back with utmost care.

“Deep breaths,” she urges you. If it was anyone else, you’d snap at them for reminding you to engage in an automatic bodily function, but Joyce’s calm voice is exactly what you need. “We’ll be there soon, and the doctors will be able to figure out what’s going on.”

Tears bulge at the corners of your eyes. “It’s t-too early,” you stammer, pain and fear surging through you. “This is all my fault…there was too much stress…”

Why didn’t I stay home? You silently berate yourself. Why couldn’t I let everyone else handle this? What kind of mother knowingly puts her unborn baby in danger–danger that involves an alternate dimension, nonetheless?

You don’t have time to search for answers to your rhetorical questions before another contraction hits you, leaving you doubled over in pain. 

“Any way we can speed this up?” Steve calls out to Murray. “I’d really like to keep my girlfriend from having a baby in the car.”

“Seriously, Murray,” Joyce hisses. “Now is not the time to do the speed limit.”

The older man rolls his eyes but begrudgingly puts more pressure on the gas pedal. 

Steve winces as Murray hits a pothole, jostling the car and everyone inside. “Everything will be alright,” he tells you, though you can sense the doubt in his tone. “I’ve got you, okay? Whatever happens, I’ve got you.”

“Just…get me…to the goddamn hospital!” you mutter through gritted teeth. You’re unsure whether you’re trying to bite back sadness or pain; probably both. You rest your head on Joyce’s shoulder, and Steve uses his right hand to hold yours. “‘S not fair,” you mumble, blinking back tears. “All I w-wanted was one thing to go right, but Steve got hurt, and Eddie’s r-really dead now, and my baby is going to be born early.” The dam breaks, and breathy sobs escape your lips. “I f-feel like I’m b-being p-punished for something.”

“No.” Steve shakes his head in vehement disagreement. “No, baby, none of this is your fault. You didn’t ask for any of this.” He unlaces his fingers from yours and places his hand on your cheek to wipe away the tears. “We’re gonna get to the hospital, and whether we meet Little Bean today or not, I’ll be by your side the whole time.”

“Actually,” Joyce pipes up, poking her pointer finger in the air to interject, “you’re gonna go get bandaged up, and I’ll stick with Y/N until you’re done.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but she quickly cuts him off. “You’re not gonna be any use to us if you hurt yourself more. Murray will take you.”

Murray grunts from the front seat. “Will you stop volunteering me for stuff?”

Joyce ignores his grumbling, turning back to you and Steve. “When you’re good to go, you can meet us in the maternity ward.”

You’ve quickly learned that there’s no winning an argument with Joyce Byers, so you sit back and try to think positive thoughts. Steve will be okay. Little Bean will be okay.

But will you be okay?

Labor is fucking hard.

Joyce presses a cold compress to your head, guiding you through the breathing exercises she remembers from her own Lamaze classes. “You’re doing amazing,” she whispers. “Your body knows what it’s doing. You were meant to do this, and Little Bean will be here before you know it.”

“Wh-Where’s Steve? How long has it been?” you cry out, squeezing Joyce’s hand as another contraction rips through your core. 

“Two hours, hon,” Joyce says after checking her wristwatch. “The doctors will patch him up and Murray will bring him right over, okay?”

The pain of labor has completely erased any semblance of a filter on your thoughts. “What if he’s not here in time? I-I can’t have the baby without him here!” You throw your head back on the pillow and tug the itchy wool blanket up to your chin. 

“Let me tell you something: you can do anything. You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re a mom.” Her tone is kind but firm.

It takes another thirty minutes for Steve to make his way to the maternity ward, a crutch under one shoulder and his arm wrapped in cast. “Did I make it? Is Little Bean here yet?”

“Not yet,” Joyce shakes her head, standing up from her spot next to you and relinquishing it to your boyfriend. “She’s already eight centimeters dilated; this baby wants out.”

Steve frowns when he hears your teeth chattering, noticing your whole body shaking with shivers. “Why is she shivering like this? Is…is something wrong?”

“That’s just a side effect of the epidural,” Joyce explains calmly, rubbing his shoulder. “Everything’s looking good. She’ll be pushing in no time.” She leans over to you and adds, “I’m gonna get going, but you got this.”

You reach out to Steve, saying his name with a whimper. “I don’t know if I can do this, Steve.”

“Yes, you can. Y/N, holy shit, you can. You’re gonna be the best damn mom in the world. And I can’t wait to watch you do it.”

He repeats that as your labor continues progressing, letting you grab his uninjured hand as tightly as you can as you push. You grit your teeth, willing your body to do everything it can to let Little Bean arrive safely and quickly.

“Dad, you wanna see your baby being born?” the nurse asks, and Steve instinctively races to watch. It takes a few seconds to realize that he’s Dad; maybe not biologically, but he’ll treat Little Bean like his own child.

“Babe, I can see the head. I can see our baby’s head!” he exclaims, and he brushes the tears from his cheeks. “You’re incredible! I can’t believe you’re having our baby, holy shit!”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“For the love of God, stop talking and hold my hand!” 

Glancing down at the newborn baby in your arms, you press a soft kiss to his nose, careful not to wake him. “How…how do I love him so much already?” you murmur. “Hi, Little Bean. I’m your mom.” Your eyes well up at the statement; you’re someone’s mom.

“You did amazing,” Steve says, running his forefinger along Little Bean’s tiny knuckles. “He’s perfect. I’m so proud of you, and…and I know Eddie would be, too.” He moves his finger so it grazes the baby’s hair. “Does he have a name? Or are we gonna call him Little Bean for the rest of his life? ‘Cause I gotta be honest with you; I think that’ll be a problem when he starts school.”

You smile, not wanting to take your eyes off of your son. Your son. “I was thinking that his first name could be Jimmy, after Jimmy Page,” you tell Steve, “because Led Zeppelin saved your life. And then his middle name would be Edward, so he always has a piece of his dad.”

“What about his last name?” Steve asks. It’s an innocent question, but to you, it’s loaded. You have no idea what last name Little Bean–Jimmy–will have. Eddie is biologically his father, so it could be Munson; but Steve will be the one helping you raise him. Is it too much to give him the last name Harrington?

“Can I come in?” a soft voice calls from the doorway. You manage to pry your gaze from Jimmy’s sleeping form to see Wayne holding a bouquet of daisies in one hand and a little gift bag in the other. Bunched up blue tissue paper spills over the sides.

You nod, giving him a smile. “Of course. Come say hi to your grandson.” 

“He’s beautiful,” Wayne says, placing the flowers on the bedside table. “How are you feeling, darlin’?”

“Exhausted,” you admit, “but so happy. He’s here, and he’s healthy, and…I never knew how badly I needed him until now.” You kiss the wisps of hair atop Jimmy’s head. “Wayne, I’d like you to officially meet Jimmy Edward.” You wince as you try to shift your baby into Wayne’s waiting arms, still sore from labor, so he hands the gift to Steve and leans over to help you.

“Hi, Jimmy,” he whispers, gently rocking him. “I’m your grandpa, and I’m gonna spoil the h-heck outta you.” He lets out a nervous chuckle. “Not used to watchin’ my language; guess I’ll have to get used to it.”

“Don’t worry, you still have plenty of time before he can start echoing everything you say,” you reassure him.

Steve lovingly squeezes your shoulder. “I’m gonna leave you two to talk, but if you need me, I’ll be right outside.”

“Thank you, babe,” you say gratefully. You watch as he hobbles away with his crutch, but not before taking one last look at the woman of his dreams and the most adorable baby he’s ever seen. I’m so lucky, he thinks. It’s the little family he’s always wanted, and he’ll never let it go.

Wayne cradles Jimmy to his chest, visibly melting when he coos. “I can’t believe I have a grandson. Never thought…” he pauses, using the shoulders of his jacket to wipe tears from his eyes, “...never thought it’s happen. ‘Specially after Eddie…”

“Wayne?” you break in, voice wavering with nerves. “I don’t…he doesn’t have a last name yet. I know he’s Eddie’s, but Steve…I’m just so confused.”

“Well, seems like an easy choice to me,” Wayne chuckles softly, looking at you intently. “Darlin’, there’s one last name this sweet boy should have. Yours.”

“Mine?” you squeak out. 

He nods, making silly faces at the newborn in his arms. “You are the bravest, strongest person I’ve ever met. I mean, anyone who goes through pregnancy and labor is a goddamn superhero in my eyes. But doing it at nineteen? While dealing with everything you’re dealing with.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I couldn’t do it; that’s for sure.”

Wayne stays for a few more minutes until he sees you struggling to keep your eyes open.

“‘M sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed that you can’t stay awake. The pull of sleep is too inviting to fight off any longer, despite the soreness that radiates through your lower body.

He places Jimmy back in his bassinet and shoots you one last warm smile. “Ya did good, kid.”

“Sweetheart? Are…are you awake?”

You blink a few times at the sound of an all-too familiar voice. Wiping the sleep from your eyes, the hazy shape begins to focus. The frizzy brown curls, denim jacket covering a mud-spattered Hellfire shirt, and torn jeans can only mean one person.

“Eddie?”

He nods, stepping towards you. “It’s me. Really me this time.” He takes in your incredulous look and offers a small smile. “I can prove it: ask me anything. But, uh, don’t take too long. ‘M kinda on borrowed time here.”

“Where was our first date?” you try, cocking your eyebrow with disbelief.

“It was supposed to be at Enzo’s, but their power went out, so we ended up splitting gas station sandwiches at Lover’s Lake.” Eddie answers easily. 

Your eyes well up with tears and you let out a sob you didn’t know you were holding. It’s so loud that you wake up Steve, who sits up with a start.

“Wh-What…Munson?” he sputters, hobbling to your side and grabbing your hand with his good one. “Baby, is he…”

“It’s him,” you confirm, wiping your cheeks. You feel Steve relax, his fingers untensing but still remaining laced with yours. You reach into the bassinet and carefully lift Jimmy, doing your best not to wake him. “Eddie, this is your son. His name is Jimmy Edward.”

“My son,” Eddie repeats incredulously. “Holy shit, my son.” Steve shifts over so Eddie can stand next to you. His fingertips appear to brush against the wisps of Jimmy’s hair, but pass through them, a somber reminder that he’s not truly here. But your baby stirs slightly as if he can feel his father’s touch. It’s comforting, and he falls back to sleep without so much as a whimper. 

“Hey, little guy,” Eddie whispers. “It’s me…y-your dad. I’m glad I got to meet you.” A tear slips down his cheek. “This is kinda a weird situation we got goin’ on here. I mean, I can’t stick around for too long. But your mom and Steve are gonna be here for you, okay? And I’ll be watching over you, lookin’ out for you. 

“It might not seem like it, but you’ve got a pretty sweet deal, kid. You’ve got the best mom in the world. She was seriously the most amazing thing to ever happen to me.” He looks at Steve with a warm smile before bringing his attention back to the snoozing baby. “And Steve? One of the greatest dudes I know. Total badass, and his hair? Impeccable.” 

“Shut up, man,” Steve mumbles, but he’s grinning when he says it.

“I mean it,” Eddie insists. “I know…I know he made you think that I hated you. But I don’t. You took care of Y/N, and you’re gonna take care of my kid. I’m so fuckin’ grateful for you, dude.”

“You promise you’re not mad?” Steve asks dubiously. “‘Cause I’d get it if you were.”

“Steve.” Eddie tilts his head and starts to place his hand on the man’s shoulder before remembering that he can no longer do that. “Just make sure you aim your hairspray away from his sensitive little eyes.”

A tinkle of laughter echoes through the hospital room, followed by brief silence. “Eds?” you say finally, voice tinier than you wish it was, “How long can you stay?”

His brown eyes are filled with remorse. “Not long. I needed to meet him. And tell you how much I love you.” The kiss he tries to press to your forehead has no weight, just a slight chill, as though there’s a gentle breeze blowing through. “Look at you, Sweetheart. Just had a baby and you’re as gorgeous as ever.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes; the cold stickiness of dried sweat all over your body begs to differ with his statement. “I’m a mess.”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “No, you’re not. And you’ve got two guys who think you’re the most beautiful woman in this dimension, or any other.” He raises his eyebrows at Steve, cuing him to chime in.

“He’s right,” Steve agrees easily, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. “The most beautiful, badass, strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

“See?” Eddie shrugs. “Now you can’t deny it. I mean, what are the odds of us both being wrong?” 

This time, you do roll your eyes.

Eddie flickers, like some sort of glitch, and you know exactly what that means without even having to ask. “It’s time for me to go,” he says. The reflexive upwards curl that dances on his lips is a mixture of sadness and relief. He’s free, he’s finally free, and Vecna can no longer rob him of the experience of a peaceful afterlife. “But you can bet that I’ll be watching over you. My…my family.” He once again glances at Steve; this time, it’s for approval.

“‘Course you’re our family, Munson.” If Eddie were really here, in the flesh, Steve would sling an arm around his shoulder and pull him in tight. Instead, he settles for a kind smile. “We love you.”

Eddie bites his lower lip. “I love you all, too.” His voice warbles, though you’re unsure if it's from emotion or from his waning presence. “Good-bye, my love. I’m so glad I got to meet our boy.”

The next time you blink, he’s gone.

You think you dreamed it. In fact, if Steve wasn’t here to corroborate what just happened, you’d swear on it.

“Did that just…” Steve starts, shaking his head. “There’s no way, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stammer in agreement. “There’s no way.” But as you look over to Jimmy’s empty bassinet, you notice something that hadn’t been in there earlier.

A red and black guitar pick.

Steve sees it, too, and gingerly places it in the palm of his hand, as though he expects it to vanish just as Eddie had. When it remains there, he lets his gaze drift to Jimmy.

“Little Bean–Jimmy–I’m gonna make you a promise right now,” he starts, rubbing his thumb over the pick. “I’m never gonna shut up about your dad. You’ll know all about how awesome he was.” He clears his throat of the lump that builds. “And I-I know I can never take his place, but I’m gonna be the best father figure I can be.”

The energy that fills the room is like a warm hug. The threat of Vecna is gone, Steve is alive and by your bedside, your son arrived in the world healthy and happy, and Eddie got to meet him.

You know that there are many long days and sleepless nights that stretch ahead of you, but for now, you allow yourself to be enveloped in love.

We'll get through this, we'll get past this  I'm a girl with a whole lot of baggage But I love you, we'll get past this I'm a girl with a whole lot of baggage, yeah

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

More Precious Than Rubies: Part 5b

This is an alternate timeline story that has a Rafael Barba track and a Sonny Carisi track. The two paths split off in part 3.

WC: 4270

TW: Angst; end of relationship drama; sharing a bed but no sex; mild allusions to previous sex, so 18+ only just to be safe.

AN: The prompt was "You're overthinking - I'm yours. That's all I want to be."

Amanda knew what people thought of her.  She’d heard the hateful words thrown her way her entire life – trash, slut, dumb blonde, and every variation between.

Truthfully, sometimes being underestimated worked for her.  She solved many cases based on interrogations where she either flirted with the suspect or acted like a flighty idiot, and if it meant locking up some of the worst people she’d ever crossed paths with, well…she wasn’t that prideful.

And truthfully, she’d be the first to admit that her life was a mess.  She had fled Atlanta PD completely traumatized by her repeated assaults at the hands of her captain, and she buried it all deep under booze and sex and gambling until it all became too much.  She’d clean up her act for a while, then relapse, then hit rock bottom. 

It was all she knew, honestly.  She was her father’s daughter, after all.

But she was a good cop, and she tried to be a good partner, and when she saw Carisi come trudging back into the precinct with a fistful of shredded paper, she knew – with her detective’s instinct and her woman’s intuition – that she was somehow the cause of it.

She watched her partner as he sat down slowly at his desk.  He was slumped there, his head hung, and he looked like he had his spirit completely broken in the span of a minute.  He sat the pieces of torn paper on his desk reverently, like they were some sacred relic, and stared at them for a long while.  Then he took an evidence bag out of his drawer and swept them in carefully before sealing and placing in his bag.

Amanda knew how torn up Carisi had been when you broke up with him.  The man always talked about you when you were dating – how he couldn’t wait to get home to you, how you were brilliant and were going to be a force to be reckoned with once you passed the bar.  How you made him laugh all the time and cheered him up when cases got him down.  He made you sound like perfection, to the point where Amanda practically wanted to date you.  She could do with a smart and supportive partner for once, and she would readily admit that you were pretty.

So when you broke up with him, it destroyed her partner.  She tried to broach the subject a few times, but he’d just shrug irritably and change the subject. 

At first, she assumed it was the same thing that plagued all of them:  the job was too demanding and left no room for relationships.  But more and more, she doubted it.

Carisi made a few off-hand comments about how Amanda needed to get her shit together, and she wondered if it stemmed from his breakup.  And then you came back into their lives, and Carisi always jumped away from Amanda like a guilty husband caught with the babysitter. 

And today, when you looked at Carisi with a smile but saw Amanda’s pregnant belly, the blonde detective was able to piece it all together.  It was written plainly across your face as you turned and fled the bullpen.  You thought Carisi was the father, and maybe you had suspected something between then when you dumped Carisi.

Still, Amanda gave it one last shot.  “You want to grab a beer?” she asked as they both clocked out and left the precinct.  “I’m driving.” 

Carisi just shook his head irritably at her before replying.  “No.  I really want to be alone, ‘Manda,” he said.  “Shoulda said ‘no’ more often,” he mumbled, and then he stalked away.

So it really was like that after all. 

-----

Amanda just observed for a few weeks.  Carisi never got less snippy with her, and when you came into the precinct, your eyes glazed over every time you looked in her direction.  And whatever ground Carisi had gained with you – little smiles, small talk – was lost, and then some.

She waited and hoped the two of you would work it out on your own, because she didn’t have any relationship abilities whatsoever, but it never got better.  She took a deep breath, wished she weren’t pregnant so that she could drink some liquid courage…then she marched (more of a slow amble, actually) down to your office.

She had called ahead and pretended to be an ADA who wanted to drop in and chat; she wasn’t going all the way over to your office just to have you no be there.  But you would be in all afternoon, apparently, so she made an excuse to Liv and left alone.

Amanda rarely got nervous around other women, but she’d be lying if she said you didn’t intimidate her a little.  You were smart, and you routinely tore into SVU’s cases, and you flustered Barba all the time.  And Amanda didn’t have any girlfriends, so she had no common ground with you.  Well, no common ground except Carisi.

The elevator was too fast, and before she knew it, she was standing outside your office.  Your admin seemed to be off somewhere else, which meant that you’d be surprised.  Amanda took a deep breath again, felt the acid churn of her now-constant heartburn, and knocked on your door.

“Come in,” you called out, muffled, and she opened the door.  You looked up with a smile but it instantly fell the moment you registered who was walking into her office.

“Get out,” you said, and you stood up and pointed, but Amanda just shut the door behind her.  She looked you over and admitted again to herself that you were pretty.  She could see why Carisi liked you – you had a nice rack that strained your sleeveless blouse just a bit, and you always wore those pencil skirts that made your ass look amazing.  There was documented evidence that Carisi was an ass man.

Amanda gestured to her stomach, playing the pregnancy card.  “I need to sit,” she said apologetically, and she settled into the chair across from your desk.  “And I need you to just listen for five minutes.”

She watched you clench your jaw, but you sat down too.  You slide your phone’s lock screen off and glanced at the time.  “You have five minutes,” you said, and your voice was tight with anger.

“Let’s get one thing clear right now,” Amanda started.  “Carisi is not the father of my child, and we have never slept together.  We’ve never kissed.  The most physical we’ve ever been has been maybe a handful of hugs.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her, but didn’t say anything, so she continued.

“I know…” she started, but she trailed off for a moment.  “It’s hard, being a female detective with a male partner.  There’s an intimacy there because your life is on the line, and you’re expected to protect each other.  But then, there’s girlfriends and boyfriends and spouses who make assumptions.  Sometimes they’re right and sometimes they’re wrong.”

She trailed off again and swiped her hand across her forehead.  She was sweating, and your office was small and stuffy.  You looked her over and stood up without a word.  You left your office for a moment, but came back with a bottle of water that you handed her without a word.

“Thanks,” Amanda said, and she was grateful.  She drank half of it in one go, then continued, calmer.

“I know you think that I have designs on Carisi, but I don’t.  Even if I did, I can’t compete with you.  He talks non-stop about how smart and funny and gorgeous you are.  And I’m a mess.”

You looked at her and cleared your throat.  “I don’t believe in tearing other women down to build a woman up,” you said quietly.  “Don’t talk badly about yourself to make me feel better.”

Amanda couldn’t help but smile at this.  “Carisi always said you were kind to a fault.”

You snorted.  “Well, I don’t like you, Rollins, so don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Fair enough.”  But she still smiled as she continued, “Look, I love Carisi as a partner, but I’d never pursue him romantically or…sexually.  And he wouldn’t pursue that with me, no matter how it looks.  He loves you.  He talks about you like you hung the moon, and that day you threw some torn up piece of paper at him…it really laid him low.”

“When we were dating, he was always with you.  Helping you with your life,” you pointed out.

“I know.  I never asked though.  Carisi loves a project, and I’m a project.”  Amanda shrugged.  “I always tried to send him home, but he always told me that you understood because you were always helping people too.  And my family – my momma and my sister – is a complete mess.” 

Your stern face softened a bit at this.  “Family is tough,” you conceded.

Amanda nodded.  “And when he was with me, he was talking about you.  Always.  I know you so well, I feel like I was practically dating you.  I know that you’re a shitty bowler, and that you can’t cook but still try.  You snore and you love to read.  You don’t really drink, but you have a trick of putting Coke in a rock glass with lime so that it looks like you drink, because you hate when people try to peer pressure you into drinking.”

You almost smiled at her.  Amanda could see the corners of your lips twitching as you fought it.  “You should buy me dinner first if you’re trying to flirt with me.”

Amanda laughed at this.  “And you’re funny, and smart.”  Her smile faded, and she looked you dead in the eye.  “And he loves you so much, and when he’s had more than two beers, he talks about how he wanted – wants – to marry you and spend the rest of his life with you.”  She watched your face as you considered this, and she finished the bottle of water and stood up, staggering a bit under her newly unwieldy body.

“Look, like I said, I love Carisi, and I assume you do, or did too.  I want him to be happy.  If you’re over it, then fine.  But I wanted you to know where things stood.”

You stood up too and walked her out to the elevator.  “I appreciate it.”  You turned and looked her over with a considering glance.  “It was ballsy, coming in here like this.  I respect that.”

Amanda laughed and climbed onto the elevator.  “Thanks, but I’m really just hoping you’ll ease up on me the next time you call me to the stand.  Carisi never warned me that you were a fucking Pitbull in the courtroom.”  She waved at you as the doors shut, and for the first time in a while, Amanda felt like she’d done something good for someone else.

********

Sonny pieced your letter back together, taping it carefully and reading as he went.  Once it was assembled, he read it over and over until he had it memorized, and even though everything was ruined with you, he chanted certain lines to himself to cheer himself up.  It started out “Dear Dominick,” which made him smile, because you only called him by his given name when you were mock-angry with him….or in bed.

It continued:

First, I have to thank you for the beautiful letter you wrote me.  It made me feel like some girl in love in an old English novel, and it would have only been more perfect if I could have read it on the moor while the wind whipped my petticoats.  Sadly, I read it in Brooklyn, which wasn’t as romantic.

I don’t want to focus on the end of our relationship either, but I do want to apologize for how I ended it.  At the time, in the middle of it, it seemed appropriate, but as time soothed my anger, I realized how harsh I’d been.  I wish I could go back and change how I handled it.

You know some of my history.  You know about the boyfriend before you, and how I was pretty closed off when we first met.  I wasn’t interested in dating at all, but there was something about you that gave me hope.  You were, like your namesake, a beam of sunshine through dark clouds. 

What you don’t know is my dysfunctional family, my parents’ terrible marriage that ended as badly as any marriage can….I keep that from everyone, even you – when we dated.  But with some time and distance between us, I can admit that you gave me hope there too, that I might live to overcome my parents’ awful legacy.  That I might have real love one day.

I think when we dated I was pretty open about what I loved about you, but I’ll reiterate here:  you’ve got a heart as big as anyone, and I loved that first about you.  How many cops get a law degree to become a better cop?  Not many, I’d wager, but you did – and you did it to help some of the most helpless victims this system has.  Your kindness and consideration shines through in everything you do.  You help everyone – your family, your friends, your coworkers. 

You’re smart.  You put yourself through night school while working ridiculous hours, and you graduated with honors.  I won’t accuse Manhattan’s SVU of being the most buttoned-up precinct I deal with, but I’m certain that the least terrible cases are yours (ha ha).

I could write at length about how handsome I think you are, but that’d be shallow and likely make you feel objectified, so I’ll just say that no matter how much I see you, I still get butterflies in my stomach when I see you again.

But what I love best about you is how you made me feel when we were together.  I never slept so well as when I was with you, falling asleep in your arms.  I always was able to drift off without nightmares, and I always felt safe curled up next to you. 

I don’t know what the future holds.  Sometimes everything seems so inconsequential in our line of work, the constant stream of misery.  But there’s always a ray of hope, I’ve learned, beaming through those dark clouds like a ray of sunlight.  So I live with optimism, and expect better days.  And maybe you’ll be there in those better days.

It was signed simply with your name.

-----

Sonny didn’t see you aside from a handful of times in the precinct, and you looked past him as if he didn’t exist.  He was exhausted and heart-sore and hopeless, but a college classmate was getting married in Jersey, so he took a long weekend and went to that.  Maybe filet mignon and an open bar could help him heal.

He skipped the ceremony outright.  He normally loved weddings, crying with the best of them, but he didn’t have the heart to watch two people commit themselves to each other.  He had wanted that with you.  He turned up to the reception early, some swanky country club that probably cost thousand of dollars a year in membership fees.  He found his seat at a table jammed into the corner, and then he scanned the rest of the tables place cards for familiar names.  And saw yours.

His stomach dipped to see it.  No “and guest” after your name either.  Sonny dreaded the day you turned up at the precinct with a ring on your finger or with a new last name.  He knew now that he was out of the picture, it was only a matter of time.  But for now, at least, you seemed to be flying solo.

You were three tables over from his.  Since he was early, he grabbed a beer from the bar and went to explore the grounds.  He found a quiet spot near the tennis courts, and he sat and drank his beer while he reminisced.

-----

You and Sonny had attended one wedding while you were together.  It was his best friend from high school, and you’d been sweetly shy as he introduced you to all of his friends (and an ex-girlfriend) from his youth.  You’d been nervous but eventually relaxed, laughing and dancing and begging everyone for their most embarrassing Sonny stories, and everyone was all too happy to oblige.  You fit in immediately, as he assumed you would.

You only got cranky during the garter and bouquet toss, and you refused to go to the floor when the rest of the unmarried women went out there.  Afterwards, when Sonny drove you both back to the hotel, you gave him an earful about stupid wedding traditions.

“So you’d never want to get married then?” he asked as he keyed the hotel room door open and held it for you.

“A wedding and a marriage are completely different things,” you pointed out, and you poked him in the middle of his chest to drive it home. 

“So you’d never want to have your new husband sit you in the middle of a dance floor, all eyes on you, as he removed the garter from your leg to some sexy song?” he asked, and as he did, he hooked his own hand under the hem of your skirt and trailed it up over your knee before letting it drift to the inside of your thigh.

Your breath hitched in your chest, and you leaned into his touch.  “That sounds terrible.  Is my new grandma-in-law watching?”

“She is,” he replied.  He leaned in to whisper in your ear.  “And she highly suspects that you claimed her innocent grandson’s virginity before you were married.  So she already thinks the worst about you.”

You huffed against him as you laughed.  “I’ll have to set her straight at the next family holiday dinner.” 

He walked you backwards until you were forced to sit on the edge of the bed, and he knelt in front of you.  He spread his hand under the skirt of your dress, grasping the soft flesh of your inner thigh and letting his fingertips graze dangerously close to his target. 

“I don’t think the garter goes that high, Dominick,” you said, and your voice had a strained quality to it.

“Hmm,” he said, and he pulled his hand away.  “Maybe your new husband would be drunk.  Too many shots on the party bus.  Nervous because it was a big day.”  He pushed your skirt up slowly, slowly.  He glanced up and saw you watching him from under your heavy eyelids.  “Maybe he’d embarrass you by trying to pull the garter off of you with his teeth.”

You had laughed at that, but it was cut short when he pressed his mouth to the inside of your knee, and before long, as his mouth trailed higher and higher, you were moaning and then gasping and then eventually screaming his name.

-----

Sonny finished his beer and then dragged his feet back towards the reception, but it was already crowded, so he took his seat.  He craned his neck and saw you, or your back, at least.  You were in a blue dress, and judging by the way your neck was bent and your shoulders slumped, you weren’t have a great time either.

He got through dinner, and he braced himself with more beers, only going to the bar after you’d gone.  He didn’t want to ruin the evening for you by running into you. 

But you’d obviously noticed him at some point.  He was sitting alone at his table as everyone else danced or mingled, and he saw you approach him in the now-dark reception hall.  You granted him a tight smile and then held out a fresh bottle of beer, which he accepted. 

“Can I sit?” you asked, and Sonny pulled out the chair beside him for you.  You settled in and turned to give him that same, tight smile.

“How are you?” he asked after a moment, and you shrugged. 

“Okay.  Tired.  It was a long week.”  You glanced at him.  “You know how it is.”

He nodded.  “It’s never-ending.”

You both sat in silence and watched the dancing for a while.  “Amanda came to my office,” you finally said, and Sonny flinched.

“I didn’t tell her to…” he started, but you waved him off. 

“I know.”  You sighed.  “I’m sorry I made an assumption, Sonny.”

He turned to face you, and he was pained by how sad you looked.  “I know why you made the assumption.”  He shook his head.  “I screwed up so much and…”

“Stop.”  You laid a hand on his arm tentatively, and Sonny tried to ignore how it felt to have you touch him, even through his suit jacket and shirt underneath it.  “No more of that.”

He just stared at you, completely unsure what to do.  You looked back at him.  Finally, you turned to watch the dancing, but you shifted your hand until it was grasping his.  He turned his palm so that he could properly hold your hand, and you both sat like that for a few songs.

“What song do you think they’ll play for the garter removal?” he asked.

You snorted.  “I think the bigger question is, ‘is the groom drunk enough to try removing it with his teeth?’”

“Only if his judgmental grandmother is watching.”  He turned to look at you, and you had a dreamy look on your face, like you were remembering that time in the hotel after his friend’s wedding.  After Sonny had gone down on you, you’d had sex – or more appropriately, made love.  It had been languid and slow-paced, and as he had moved in you, it was the first time you said that you loved him.  You had been slow to say it, so he had known that you meant it when you finally did.

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” he asked, pleading. 

You only sighed.  “I don’t want to talk, Sonny.  I don’t want to think.  I talk so much.  I talk to clients and prosecutors all day.  I think too much.  I can never turn my brain off.  I just want a good night’s sleep and no talking.”  You squeezed his hand.  “Can we do that instead and talk some other time?” 

Sonny could only nod.  His throat felt so tight that he thought he might cry if he tried to talk.  You smiled at him, and you led him to your table so that you could grab your purse, and then you both left. 

He was quiet in the car ride to your hotel, and quiet in the elevator, and quiet when you unlocked your door and threw the bolt when you shut it.  He watched you wordlessly as you kicked off your shoes and removed your earring and necklace.  Then he watched as you sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him.

“Is this okay, Sonny?” you asked softly, and he nodded again.  He kicked his own shoes off and shed his suit jacket and tie and belt.  He hesitated a moment.

“Do you want to put your pajamas on?” he asked, and you laughed lightly.

“You should know better than anyone that I don’t wear pajamas in the summer.”

He felt a stirring below the belt but willed it away.  “You want my t-shirt?”

You thought about it and then said yes, so when you were finally settled in the bed together, you were in his t-shirt and your panties, and he was in his boxer briefs.  And it, oddly enough, wasn’t sexy – but it was intimate.  There was some clumsy moments, but you eventually settled into a familiar position:  each of you on your side, facing each other, heads close and knees touching.

You peered at him in the darkness.  “Is this too weird?  I thought maybe it might be weird.  I wanted to talk to you, but didn’t really want to talk, but then I thought it’d be strange to pretend like I didn’t see you…”  You sighed and paused.  “I don’t know how to handle this, Sonny.  We broke up and didn’t see each other for a year, and then you wrote me a letter and I wrote a letter, and then Amanda came to see me, and I don’t know what to do or think…”

“This isn’t weird,” he said with a shake of his head.  “I missed this.”  His voice broke on the final word, and he shut his eyes to keep from tearing up.  “And you’re overthinking – I’m yours.  That’s all I want to be.  We can talk later, but that’s all that really matters to me.  I’m yours.”

He felt your hand reach up and stroke his head, soothing him in that way you had.  He had missed your touch, and it had been so long that it felt decadent to have you dragging your nails against his scalp as you hummed at him.

He reached up and stilled your hand, then pressed it to his mouth.  Then he pulled you to him, holding you tight and just reveling in the moment.  He didn’t press his luck – he didn’t talk anymore, and he didn’t try to escalate it your touching to anything sexual.  He wrapped his arms around you, and you sighed contently and hugged him back, and you both fell asleep like that.  Sonny, remembering your letter, hoped that you felt safe in his arms, and that any dreams you had were sweet ones.

[staarboyyy]

Drowning

amanda young x reader | no pronouns

18+ scenarios / characters - minors dni

tags / warnings ; unhealthy dynamics, descriptions of violence, s/h mentions slight stockholm syndrome, menetions of kidnapping, fluff, no smut

summary ; strangely soft moments and recalling memories of being taken in by amanda and john

word count ; 871

a/n ; a shorter soft fic of one of my favorite characters of all time aka bowie being a useless lesbian

“Bad day?”

Amanda dropped the heavy duffle bag in her left hand with a hard thud to the ground. It was wordless how her eyes lulled towards you, cheeks pink and still streaked with smeared makeup; It didn’t need to be confirmed as she pulled her boots off, kicking them off by your door before treading towards the bed. You sat up, the chain shackles around your wrists gently clattering as you stretched your arms out slightly toward her. Amanda had taken to chaining you to the bed during the night while she was out, despite having been in the workshop for just under a year. You'd grown used to it, the bruises on your wrists fading as the shackles loosened over time, trust slowly trickling from Amanda to you in slow waves. 

“Did something happen?” 

Amanda stayed quiet as she crawled into the large bed, mumbling softly and shaking her head. She hated times like this, where she bared her vulnerability to those she didn’t deem deserving enough to see it, yet when your hands crept towards her, the tears stung her bottom lashes. Your fingers wove into hers, swimming through the cotton sheets, cold meeting warm as silence reached you both. You pursed your lips, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you moved to lean against the backboard, arm now stretching out to wrap over her shoulder, pulling her slightly closer. The bedroom wasn’t stuffy like the rest of the rooms in the workshop, it was quiet, cleaner than most of the others, and even had a small television that only took VHS. Of course, Amanda would have it no other way, but every now and again, she’d bring some old tapes home for them to watch - You hadn’t seen most of them in some time, Amanda was a classic Disney junkie, and despite the situation, it was - Nice? Atleast something close to it. She nestled her face in your chest, taking slow, trembling breaths as you peered down at her with a quirked brow. 

“‘Manda,”

Only a quiet whimper came in response, her fingers curling around the fabric of your hoodie, hiding her face in her messy hair. She had given you the hoodie when you first arrived, back when she kept you under wraps day and night; It softened as time passed, being washed at Amanda’s house and brought back for you in the morning, smelling like fresh laundry and her subtle perfume. You rested his chin on her head, leaning a bit forward so you could take in slow breaths of the smell of her shampoo.

“I’ve been doing so good, and I just,”

Amanda’s voice was quiet, uncharacteristically meek, fingers tightening on the hoodie and pulling ever so slightly to bring you closer. You obliged naturally as if she hadn’t been the one to take you from your family, use you as a vessel for Jigsaw’s sick message. You held her in your chained arms as if it was the easiest thing in the world, listening to her quiet rambles, keeping her hitched breaths at bay. Your fingers strung through her hair, the smell becoming a strange comfort for you, familiar - Dare you say safe?

A few months ago, someone had tried to hunt you down; Amanda didn’t care for the details. Seeing you on the ground with a smear of a person on top of you had been enough for her to see red, her heartbeat thumping violently in her ears, propelling her forward to swing whatever weapon was closest. It was a metal pipe that slammed hard into the attacker's skull before it fell to the ground. She had never let go of a weapon so quickly, only to fall to her knees and cradle you gently on the floor - She took care of you while you recovered, bandaging your bruises and sterilizing your scratches. For days at a time, she forgot to chain you up, the pair of you falling asleep due to pure exhaustion with one arm around the other, an old movie’s credits rolling on the television. She’d protected you with a biting vengeance, a fierce amount of vindication, curling herself over you like a rabid animal if anyone dared approach you in a violent manner; And now she shaped herself to your frame amongst the sheets, trying to wrestle her jeans off with the intention of getting comfortable in some shape or form - You never commented on her scars, none of them. Once, she had fallen asleep beside you during Bambi, your cold fingertips tracing over the faded marks on her thighs as you watched the movie. When she stirred, you went to pull your wrist back quickly, but she caught your hand, returning it in place. Ever since, you always rested your hand on wherever she allowed it, touching her face, thumb caressing over her wrists - It started small, the rousing butterflies when her dark eyes flitted towards yours with a not-so-well-hidden smile, the way you could feel your cheeks heat up when she worked on her traps in a tank top and boyshorts. It came slowly, slowly, then all at once, in a heaping wave. Though you found solace in drowning if it meant you’d be shackled to Amanda.