#now i have to use a full roll and a half of my aunt and uncle’s toilet paper

[eve-made-the-right-choice]

why, oh why, must i be having IBS on my period during thanksgiving dinner?????

[fioiswriting]

Muña | one shot

Summary : Marrying your bastard nephew to mend fences between your families wasn't exactly what you had planned. But when you realise that Jace has grown into a strong and handsome man, you might be ready to rethink your plans.

Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Reader (Reader is Alicent and Visery’s daughter. She’s one year younger than Aegon)

TW : p in v sex, mommy kink, sub!Jace (kinda), Dom!Reader (but they both switch tbh), inappropriate use of the word muña, oral (f receiving), afab reader, incest, unprotected sex, not proofread

Words count : 8064

AN : hi everyone!! I’ve been very busy lately so I haven't had time to update BUT I’ve been working a bit on various fics. Sorry to all my Aemond girlies but today it’s time for some Jace x reader. It’s a fic I’ve written for my gf who’s turning into a Jace girlie 🤭 It's full of indecency and inappropriate things.

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 

Enjoy 🖤

The gardens had become your refuge over the past few days. Under the shade of the trees, on the soft grass, you had found a peaceful haven away from the excitement caused by the arrival of your half-sister and her herd of bastards. The Red Keep made you feel suffocated. And seeing your mother pacing back and forth, running left and right, didn't help. You had to calm her down. You had to keep an eye on your older brother, making sure he didn't slip away into the maze of Flea Bottom for the umpteenth time. You had to hold your family together, and you were tired. 

You almost envied Daeron, in Old Town, away from the hustle and bustle of the court.

At least no one would think of looking for you where you were now. And you could enjoy a moment's respite, poring over the thick book you had borrowed from Aemond's library. Had he known that you had entered his room without warning, had he known that you had dared to disturb the perfect tidiness of his precious bookshelves, he would probably have threatened to feed you to Vhagar. But what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Besides, you could perhaps find a way to pay him back later. 

For now, you just needed to be left alone.

You stretched out, arms reaching for the sky. The sun's rays crept through the leaves, their warmth leaving a pleasant sensation on your face. Summer was back and you were delighted. The gentle breeze that ruffled the corners of your book and occasionally lifted the silver curls around your face gave you a sense of freedom. You deftly kicked off your shoes and lay back for a moment, your eyes closed.

Footsteps echoed on the cobbled floor, and you sighed in annoyance. You didn't have to open your eyes to see who it was. You recognised his footsteps. So, you kept your eyes closed. With any luck, he would continue his way and leave you alone to find someone else to annoy.

"Hey, my favourite little sister," Aegon exclaimed as he landed heavily beside you, his body brushing against yours. You opened one eye to acknowledge him, then closed it again, your arms crossed behind your head. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" he insisted when he saw you weren't answering him. "You know, make sure I don't run off or end up drunk somewhere…Stuff like that. Which our mother probably asked you to do."

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. It was true that Aegon was terribly annoying. But of all your siblings, Aegon was still your favourite.

You resigned yourself to rolling onto your stomach, your chin resting on your hands and your head tilted sideways to face him.  "My dear brother," you replied sarcastically. "Unable to occupy yourself, as usual."  He rolled his eyes before reaching out to remove a leaf that had gotten caught in your hair. He subtly ran his fingers through one of your curls, his touch as light as a feather. "And why have you decided to come and disturb my moment of peace, tell me?"

He blew the leaf away and you watched as it flew away on the breeze. Your big brother's eyes shone with mischief. "Why would I need a specific reason to spend time with my favourite sister?" he added, and it was your turn to roll your eyes. He moved to lie next to you, his body practically pressed against yours. 

If you moved a few centimetres, your elbows would touch his. 

You'd always been inseparable, and the habit had stuck over time, even when the teenage years had driven you apart. But in those moments, you were like two children again, ready to run away from Septa lessons to get into mischief in the castle.

“Because you always have a reason for everything,” you replied, and he looked at you with a fake hurt look that was greatly exaggerated. With Aegon it was easy. It had always been easy.  He wasn't as serious as Aemond, he wasn't as strange as Helena, and he wasn't as far away as Daeron.

"I just wanted to make sure my little sister was all ready to meet her betrothed tonight." He paused. "And also, that she hadn't suddenly decided to become a pious woman and follow the path of the Seven." His voice lowered. You poked him in the ribs. "See? I'm a caring big brother. I care about you."

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied. He laughed. Then he rolled onto his back, arms crossed behind his head, one leg bent, and he closed his eyes. The golden rays caught in his long lashes made him look like an angel. 

Everything he wasn't. 

'Well?' He added. “Excited to see Jacaerys Strong?”

You sat cross-legged. The bracelets on your wrists clinkled. Aegon knew how much the idea horrified you. You had no desire to marry Jace, to sacrifice your freedom for your half-sister's bastard eldest son. You had no desire to leave the Red Keep, to follow him to Dragonstone and spend your life bearing him children. It was your mother and Rhaenyra's idea, of course.

The union of the eldest daughter of one and the eldest son of the other, as a way of repairing the rift that has grown between your families over time. 

As if you were destined to mend fences, to undo the mistakes of your own parents.

It wasn't that you hated Jace. But he was your older sister's son, a bastard who had pretensions he shouldn't have precisely because he was a bastard. He was the model son, the perfect son, the prodigy son, the one who always did everything right. It irritated you. He irritated you with his brown curls and his awkward posture.

 It wasn't fair that your father showered him with praise when he could barely remember your own name.

You stood up, smoothing the folds of your red dress to make yourself more presentable, and you caught your brother's eyes on your body, his eyes riveted on the thin fabric that revealed your delicate shapes. God, you loved to play with that. You knew how to get men wrapped around your finger with your sweet, innocent air, and Aegon was the first victim. You approached him and held out your arm to help him up, which he accepted by pulling himself to his feet heavily. After putting your shoes back on, you bent down to pick up the thick book in your arms. If you lost it, you could be sure that Aemond would be angry with you. And that was a risk you didn't want to take.

 "Perhaps you're right, lēkia. I'd better go and make myself more presentable for my betrothed. I wouldn't wish to disgrace our family." And with that you turned back, your hair swirling in the air behind you as Aegon watched you go with a small smile on his face. 

You knew how much Aegon hated being ignored, and even more so when it came from his little sister. You knew that he would return with his tail between his legs and a pleading look on his face. Between his constant whining and his dirty jokes, he gave you little respite, but it was a game that had developed between you; a game that, deep down, you enjoyed.

He was so predictable. 

“If I had known you liked strong men, I would have dyed my hair,” you heard him shout from behind you. Aegon wasn't the least bit shy. You shook your head, your silver locks bouncing.

"Get lost, you moron," you replied without even turning around.

The meal in honour of your betrothal promised to be exciting.

*** 

As soon as he saw you, your nephew rose to pull the chair beside him in a gallant gesture, and you found yourself watching him. Really watching him. His long, broad fingers on the back of the chair. His dark locks falling around his face. His precise features; his straight nose and deep eyes and square jaw. You hadn't realised how much your nephew had changed. He'd grown up too, and he was now a good head taller than you. 

He had become a strong man, indeed.

But you refused to admit that Jacaerys Strong had become quite pleasant to look at.

"Princess," he said, pushing the chair back for you to sit down. Fingers brushed the skin of your partly bare shoulders. The touch had lasted a fraction of a second, enough to make you wonder if it had been a figment of your imagination. 

"Lord Strong," you replied in greeting. If the words hurt him, Jace didn't show it. Always the perfect son. What would it take to push him over the edge? To crack the shell he'd built around himself? To shatter the image of the gentleman?

To your right, Aegon was already seated. He was holding a glass of wine between his fingers while Aemond seemed to be lecturing him about something you couldn't understand. The exchange between you and Jace had obviously not escaped his notice, and the corner of his mouth had already curled into a smirk. You knew what it meant. 

His silence was full of implications, louder than any words. 

Your mother had lectured him before dinner, warned him to behave because that was what was expected of him, and she was counting on you to make him obey. 

But your older brother didn't say anything. He simply raised his glass in your direction, his lips forming a word that you couldn't read. You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed.

You looked at your nephew. He had donned a gambison in the colours of the Velaryons, and you couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. 

After all, a bastard in blue was still a bastard.

"Enjoying King's Landing?" you asked your betrothed, in an attempt to start a conversation. His attention turned to you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. 

“It's quite different from what I remember,” he replied, his voice a little lower than usual, his warm eyes meeting yours. “But of course it all depends on the company you are with."

You hesitated, suddenly unsure.

You hated what the sound of his voice did to you. You hated the way his eyes suddenly made you feel vulnerable. 

Fuck.

“It all depends on the company, indeed. And do you find yourself in good company tonight, nephew?" You gave him a defiant look, as if to judge his reaction. 

As if to unveil what he held within himself. 

“I'm not quite sure. Should I?” He paused, one eyebrow raised. He had taken the bait. “What would yousay?”

His eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't the malice you usually found in Aegon's eyes when he wanted to tease you. It wasn't the gleam that animated his mind when he came up with a new plan for you to cover. 

"I would say I'm in pretty strong company," you replied as you took your cup, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of your lips that you hid behind the glass. 

You were cruel, giving him no respite, you knew. But you admired his composure. He hadn't cracked yet. 

You knew men who were less patient.

Jace leaned towards you. A slight tilt of the head, just to make sure you were the only one to hear him. As if he wanted to share a secret with you. “Careful, Aunt,” he began, his voice suddenly quieter than before. It was almost a whisper. “I might begin to think you enjoy my company.”

You know I don't, you wanted to reply, but Jace had already straightened up as if nothing had happened, his head turned away from you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Baela give him a questioning look, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in the pit of your stomach. 

An unpleasant heat. 

A hint of irritation.

You were annoyed, and you didn't know why.

“Look how handsome your betrothed has made himself for you,” Aegon sneered as he reached for the decanter and leaned in close to your ear. “A true Velaryon, isn't he?” He huffed.

You wanted to slap him on the thigh, make him swallow his mockery. 

“If you think he's so handsome, I can happily leave him to you,” you replied, and Aegon's eyes widened. You saw him take a sip of wine, and something deep inside you told you he probably wasn't opposed to the idea. His usual mischievous smile was hidden behind the wine glass, but there was no mistaking his eyes.

Aegon had that tendency to give himself away, and you could read him like an open book.

The meal proved to be as boring as you had imagined. Small talk exchanged over fake smiles. An illusory moment in which everything seemed to be going well for one evening.

You weren't fooled, and you knew it was all a facade. You knew your family well enough to understand that the slightest spark could set things alight. You knew your brothers well enough to realise that all it would take was a simple glance between them to liven up an evening they found dull.

You just hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble tonight.

To your left, Jace was still deep in conversation with Baela. They had that kind of complicity that made your blood boil inside; a shared laugh that sounded in your ear like the squeaky music you hated. You frowned. It was you, his betrothed. It was you, not Baela, and you didn't understand why that statement was suddenly so important. 

After all, you despised this union. You hated Jace. You had no desire to promise him the rest of your life.

Jace was a bastard, and you deserved better.

So why did the sight of him touching Baela's hand cause a twinge of jealousy in your body?

His fingers brushed over hers absently. A light touch on her knuckles. 

And all you felt was fire.

And then. Then, your fingers slipped under the wooden table. 

You knew you were playing with fire. And you knew that if anyone paid too much attention to what you were doing, they would see that you weren't exactly behaving like the perfect Princess Targaryen you were supposed to be.

But you didn't care.

You let your fingers wander, running along the outside of Jace's thigh before moving up to settle in the hollow that connected his thigh to his hip. With a faint touch, your fingertips brushed the inside of his thigh, and then lower, tracing small circles through the fabric that was already beginning to tighten. 

Jace almost choked. 

He spat out the contents of his glass, his dark gaze fixed on you. Everyone had fallen silent, their heads turned towards him. Rhaenyra's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

And you hadn't removed your hand. 

An innocent smile lit up your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You wondered if Aegon could read you. If he could see that look on your face, so similar to his own. That distinctive feature you shared. 

Deciding to play with your prey a little longer, you put on your best fake concerned face, pretending to be worried about his health.

"Are you all right, Jacaerys?" you asked, your voice a little higher than usual as your nails dug into the fabric of his breeches. Not to hurt him, of course. Just enough to wake a certain part of him, just enough to remind him that you were his betrothed.

He cleared his throat and coughed again.

“I swallowed wrong,” he replied. 

Your fingers crept a little higher, trying to explore his upper thigh, where you knew your nephew would be sensitive. You didn't want to be rational tonight, you wanted to let the fire take over and consume you. 

You wanted to let the sleeping dragon within you awaken.

The taste of the forbidden was divine, and the heat spreading through your lower belly was too delicious to stop now.

"Be careful, mandianna. We're not married yet." you said.  We're not married yet and look where I've got my fingers. You kept your thoughts to yourself. "I wouldn't want to find myself a widow already," you replied in High Valyrian, amused, and Jace looked at you with his big brown eyes, somewhere between anger and excitement, embarrassment and curiosity. 

Under the table, out of sight, your hand brushed the stretched fabric where you could read the confirmation of what he was feeling, the manifestation of his desire.

He was hard.

Perfect.

It was you who provoked this. 

He responded to your touch.

You felt a familiar breath on the back of your neck and realised Aegon was leaning against you again. He was pretending to serve you some of the vegetables that had just been brought in for the starter, taking the opportunity to whisper in your ear as he did so well. "Try to be more discreet, little sister," he chuckled softly, his voice nothing more than a whisper to make sure no one heard you. Discreetly, he nodded to where your hand still rested on your nephew's thigh. He tilted his head. "Rhaenyra is right in front of us. Do you think she can see what you're doing to her son under the table?"

He put on his best disinterested face. As if the words exchanged between you were nothing more than banalities. 

As if he weren't commenting on the indecent deeds you were doing under the table, unworthy of a girl of your rank.

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. You didn't want him drawing any more of your family's attention to you, especially when you hadn't finished playing.

Your big brother gave you a knowing wink, as if to promise you that your secret was safe with him.

And you decided to continue entertaining yourself with the new game you'd invented.

You were bold, and you decided that if Jace didn't already know it, he would find out soon enough.

*** 

It wasn't that Jace was disappointed with his betrothal. You were divine, and the dress you wore made you so regal that he couldn't keep his attention anywhere but on your body, on your cleavage so gracefully offered to his gaze.

It was precisely why he had turned to Baela, why he had tried to distract himself with their conversation, why he had desperately tried to find something else to hold on to.

Because you were making him lose his footing. And that was a feeling he hated.

No, Jace did not regret his betrothal. You were everything a man could want; you were beautiful, you were regal, you were clever, and above all, you were a Targaryen. A princess. The king's daughter.

The only problem was you were distant and elusive.

Jace remembered your pretensions and mockeries from his childhood. He remembered the little brat you were, following in your older brother's footsteps. He remembered a little girl with a strong temper, who knew what she wanted. He remembered the pranks, not just the ones he'd taken part in, like the Pink Dread, but the ones that had turned against him because of you and Aegon, too.

It was clear that the little girl you had once been, taller than him, with long silver curls and an air of self-assurance far too confident for her young age, had grown into a beautiful young woman. 

And that was something Jace hadn't considered.

He couldn't concentrate on his conversation with Baela, not when your fingers were digging through the linen of his breeches into the flesh of his thigh, as if to remind him to whom he had been promised.  

Your fingers, slender, light, burning against his inner thigh. 

He clenched his jaw.

All around him, the words and faces of the guests mingled in a swirl of sound and colour. Fuck.

Fuck.

His breeches were really becoming too tight.

You'd dared to do that. You'd dared to slip your fingers under the table, in front of everyone, and Jace didn't know whether to admire your audacity or wrap his fingers around your wrist and force you to take them off. 

Suddenly he felt hot, a familiar warmth spreading between his loins. 

He wasn't sure he could get up, not with his member pulsing between his thighs. 

Fuck. You weren't supposed to make him feel like this. He wasn't supposed to feel such a desire for you when you weren't officially married.

This dinner was about officially declaring your betrothal, not consummating a union not yet pronounced.

He was trying to calm down. He tried to ground himself back into reality. Perhaps by staring intently at the contents of his plate he could ignore the sensation of your fingers rising dangerously high; the desperate need to finally have your fingers wrapped around his manhood.

His knees slammed into the table in a sudden movement.

Your fingers had just brushed the bulge that had formed between his thighs. 

And he needed more, infinitely more.

You couldn't have the cruelty to arouse such lust in him and then leave him like that. He would never forgive you.

"Stop that," he growled in your direction, low enough for no one else to hear. 

But you still had that damn innocent smile, that damn audacity to act as if nothing had happened. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, mandianna." Nephew. The sound of the High Valyrian rolling off your tongue sent a wave of heat between his legs. Seven hells, you were going to be the death of him. 

He wanted more. 

He needed more. 

More of your fingers around him, more of your tongue against his length, more of that innocent look on your face as you knelt before him, more of your tight cunt.

Jace was on the verge of losing it. You'd made him a slave to his own desire. You had closed your claws around him and he knew there was no turning back now.

“If you play with fire too much, you might get burned, muña," Jace retorted, leaning towards you, and he felt the imperceptible movement of your hand twitching at the threat. Aunt.

Despite his dwindling strength, King Viserys tried to make a speech about family, betrothal, and a whole host of other undoubtedly honourable values, but neither you nor Jace paid any attention. You were caught up in your own game.

Then Jace stood up, forcing you to remove your hand. 

You could see he was uncomfortable, for you knew where to look, for you knew what you had done. 

You knew he had a painful erection between his thighs, and it was all because of you.

But you could only admire your nephew's composure. 

“To my uncles, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. I have fond memories of our shared childhood.” His glass between his fingers, he raised it in the direction of his uncles, then turned to you. "And to my sweet and beautiful bride-to-be, who I'm sure will never cease to surprise me with her daring and surprising side. May our marriage be filled with joy and satisfaction".

The toasts continued, as did the meal. The servants had brought the rest of the dishes consisting of steaming meat and tasty garnishes. It was almost too joyous, almost too happy to be real. As if there was a threat lurking somewhere in the corner.

But Jace still had to teach you a lesson.

The music started, the sound of instruments filling the room. Jace apologised to Baela and walked over to his aunt. His other aunt. Your sister. 

And you felt the anger return; the same inner turmoil as before. 

Jace had held out his hand to Helaena and led her to dance a little further away. You immediately exchanged a questioning look with your brother, who had also stared at Jace in disbelief as he had walked away on your little sister's arm.

"So?" Aegon began. "It seems your betrothed didn't appreciate your little game?" You glared at him, but he just scoffed. "If he changes his mind... You know I like it." 

You wondered if you could do the same. You wondered if you could ask Aegon to dance and if Jace would feel the same bubbling inside him, the same jealousy coursing through his veins.

You hated that feeling. 

You shouldn't feel that kind of emotion, especially not for him.

You obviously didn't see it, too focused on your own annoyance, but Jace kept glancing in your direction, as if to make sure you saw him. 

He wanted to make you jealous. He wanted to fuel the feeling he'd identified in you. He wanted to catch you at your own game. And one thing was certain, Jace hadn't played all his cards yet.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

After a moment that seemed an eternity, your betrothed returned to sit beside you, Helena going back to her own seat. You were less and less able to hide your annoyance, and no doubt Jace noticed, for he leaned towards you, a satisfied look on his face. "Your sister is very sweet," he murmured. He knew very well that this simple phrase would be enough to send you over the edge. 

You liked attention. You liked compliments. You liked to be praised. 

You said nothing back. But Aegon had his trademark grin, the one that stretched his lips when he had a devious plan, and he was already getting up on the pretext of serving Baela some wine so he could whisper in his nephew's ear.  "I know my little sister can be particularly demanding.” He paused. “And difficult to tame. So if you ever need any advice... Or demonstrations…"

Jace was fuming, but he knew he had to keep his cool. It was Aegon, typical Aegon, to push his buttons, to succeed in making him suddenly unsure of himself, to make his mind confused. His fingers closed around his cup, his jaw clenched, and it took all his self-control not to throw the contents in his uncle's face. 

He didn't even look at Aegon, who had returned to his seat with a triumphant smile.

But you felt something under the table. Something slipped between the folds of your dress, along your skin, discreetly, lightly, a delicious touch against your skin that made you want more.

Your eyes widened.

Jace. 

Jace the perfect son. Jace the model son. 

Jace slipping his fingers under your dress, touching the skin of your thigh, rising dangerously high where you could already feel the wetness forming in the crease between your thighs. 

This was the moment he snapped, you knew it. You hadn't heard your brother's words, you had only seen him lean towards your betrothed, but you knew he must have struck a chord with Jacaerys Velaryon. That he had probably touched his weak spot. 

Or perhaps you were just getting your comeuppance. After teasing him, after making him hard and desperate.

Jace moved his hand, tracing the space where your skin was soft and tender, all the way up your thigh, with a slow, gentle touch. His hand moved further towards the centre of you, where you were sensitive, and he brushed against your crotch. He didn't even need to apply any pressure with his fingertips to tell that you were wet.

Your hips automatically moved towards his hand in search of more contact, causing you to wiggle in your chair. All you wanted to do was grab his wrist, force him to slide his fingers under the fabric separating you, force him to touch you right here. But you were still at dinner and the game was becoming far too dangerous. 

"I told you to be careful," Jace whispered as he withdrew his fingers and resumed his serious gaze, his fingers fidgeting on the wood of the table. “Two can play at this game.”

And then perhaps the Seven heard you. Perhaps they were offering you a way out. To be honest, you weren't sure if it was a miracle or a curse. For Aemond had risen, and he had done what he did best; he had made a mocking and provocative speech to his nephews. 

Everything happened quickly. Jace and Luke leapt to their feet to answer the provocation, Aemond and Aegon were ready to fight back, and even Baela and Rhaena were prepared to defend their family. You had no time to move, no time to react, for dinner was already over, and so was your little game of cat and mouse with Jace.

This was your way out, you knew it. You were tired of sitting around a table listening to boring speeches. And the entertainment that had consisted of sliding your fingers under the table to push Jacaerys Strong over the edge had now turned against you.

"I shall rest," you warned your mother, who was deep in conversation with Rhaenyra, her features wrinkled with worry. "Tonight's events have left me somewhat tired. And I think a night's rest would do me a world of good."  She nodded, stroking your hair, and you knew instinctively what she was thinking. Always the perfect daughter.

And as you passed through the heavy door of the dining room, you hurried off in a direction that was not that of your room.

Oh, but if she knew.

*** 

Thankfully, the corridor was deserted. You didn't have the slightest desire to run into a guard who would ask you where you were going or escort you to your room for security reasons. 

Your steps were as discreet as possible on the stone floor, like those of a small mouse. You moved quickly, stealthily, almost on tiptoe.

Only the crackle of the fire broke the heavy silence between the cold walls, where the dancing shadows of the flames distorted.

You slowed your pace. You had a doubt. You weren't sure which door was the one you were looking for. 

And then suddenly, as you reached the end of the corridor, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you against the wall, away from prying eyes. A strong grip, as if it didn't want to let you vanish again.

Jace was holding you between the wall and his own body. Despite the darkness, you could see his eyes shining in the candlelight, fueled by a devouring hunger you didn't know he possessed. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes in yours. A tension hung between you, burning, ready to consume you both, and you were completely willing.

Gently yet firmly he turned your body. Your chest against the cold wall, your back against his warm chest, and you pulled your hips back to provoke him. You wouldn't succumb so easily, not to Jacaerys.

He pressed himself against you, moving his pelvis forward so you could feel his hard member against the top of your buttocks.

"Do you feel what you're doing to me?" Another thrust of his hips. "Can you feel the effect you're having on me?" He pressed harder against you. Through the layers of fabric between you, you could almost feel him throb. Gods, he seemed big. "Teasing me all evening... Such a tease, aren't you?"

If it wasn't the consequence of your own actions.

You stifled a moan with your arm so as not to attract any patrolling guards. What you were doing was dangerous. At any moment you could be caught. At any moment you could be in big trouble.

But you couldn't stop now. Not when the best was yet to come.

You moved again, seeking more contact, seeking to make Jace harder and more painful than he already was, and you turned your head to challenge him. "What if it's you who's just too weak?"

You felt his hoarse breath against the back of your neck, at the base of your hair. He seemed to be hesitating, thinking. About what he was going to do to you, about what he was going to do to make sure you were responsible for your actions. Again he turned you so that you had your back to the wall, facing him, and you recognised the gleam of desire in his eyes.

Towering over you, he lowered his gaze to you, your faces inches apart. For a moment he let his eyes devour you, wandering from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your breasts, visible through the fabric of your dress. He wanted to keep this image printed behind his eyelids; your half-open lips, your pleading gaze, like that of a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

You looked ravishing.

"Tell me to stop," Jace murmured. And you knew it was the sensible thing to do, you knew it was better to stop everything now, while it was still possible to turn back. For you weren't married yet. 

But you had no desire to be responsible.

His fingers curled around a lock of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, waiting for your answer before continuing.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" you replied, your eyes locked with his. He felt your hand against his cheek as you detailed his face, tracing his well-sculpted cheeks, and he longed for more contact, his face seeking the warmth of your palm. 

You put your arms around his neck to draw him closer, to close the distance between your lips, to feel his warmth against your body.

To quench this desire, this need that was becoming uncontrollable.

And your lips met in a feverish, urgent kiss. He pressed you further against the wall, his fingers running down your sides, brushing against the breasts he so craved.

He found your hips and his fingers worked frantically up the bottom of your dress in a crumpled ball of fabric to reach your core. "Look at how wet you are." His fingers brushed your folds through your undergarments. "All of this just for teasing me." He pressed one hand against the wall, still leaning against you, but not giving you what you wanted: his hand had stopped, and you tried to wiggle your hips to force him to continue, to force him to give you what you wanted.

Deep down, you loved the way he was losing control. 

You loved that side of Jace you didn't know. 

So you grabbed his wrist, guiding his fingers under the last barrier that separated his skin from yours. 

The sensation was delicious. 

The touch of his warm fingers against your folds sent a wave of heat from your lower belly through your entire body. You didn't want him to stop. "Here." You breathed against his lips. "This is where muña needs you." Aunt. He tensed beneath you, and you wondered if it was the ambiguity of the family tie, uttered in High Valyrian, that had such an effect on him. 

You let your lips brush against his.

He collected your wetness on his fingers, exploring the slit between your folds up to your little pearl. You were soaking wet. And you desperately needed him inside you. 

His fingers slid down to your opening where he applied a little pressure with the tip of his index finger without ever penetrating you.

"I know," he murmured, drawing small circles before abandoning your opening to return to your bud. "But I can't give you what you want now."

You whimpered under his cruelty, against his lips. 

You could see through his game. 

He wanted to make you beg, but you weren't the kind to beg. You were the one with the power and you were going to show him.

"We shouldn't stay here," you muttered, rubbing yourself against your nephew's hand. "If someone catches us..."

Jace nodded his head in agreement, withdrawing his fingers glistening with your juice, which you guided to his own lips, spreading the stickiness against his lips. 

"If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me."

And with that, he pulled you into his room.

*** 

Lying on the bed where you'd pushed him, Jace watched as you removed your dress, his prominent erection stretching the fabric of his breeches. The dress fell to the floor, forming a red puddle that you stepped over, one foot after the other.

Your nephew couldn't look away from your hypnotic figure, but his eyes inevitably wandered back to your breasts. You'd seen him glancing at your cleavage all evening, you could tell he wanted to run his fingers over your soft flesh, his lips over your nipples, and now that you were completely naked in front of him, you could see the unmistakable desire in his eyes.

You walked up to him. He clenched his jaw when he saw you. You, and the perfection of your shape, your little pointed nipples, the tantalising path that led from your chest to the space between your thighs where he knew you were soaked for him. 

The flat of your hand pressed against his chest, forcing him to lie down between the pillows. He complied, never breaking the eye contact between the two of you, and you took your place on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. His husky breath escaped through his parted lips, lightly caressing your face.

You were naked, he was still dressed, and you had infinite power over him.

You lowered your hips against his covered crotch, the essence of your desire staining the linen of his breeches as your hips began to move slowly.

You leaned down and traced his jaw with the tip of your lips, planting kisses along his throat. Underneath you, his member twitched. Mimicking what he'd done earlier, you let your fingers rest on the painful bulge between his legs and whispered, "I know." You applied a little more pressure, drawing a moan from between his lips. "I know it's painful. But I can't give you what you want right now."

Jace growled. He wanted to turn you over, slam you against the mattress, pound into you and make you swallow your insolence. But he wanted to see how far you were willing to go. He wanted to see you keep control for a while longer.

You deftly undid his breeches to make it easier for your hand to slip through. You found his hard member, warm and heavy between your fingers.

It was a new sensation. As a model princess, you'd never ventured into this territory, saving your maidenhood for your future husband.

But Jace was your future husband.

You closed your fingers around him, your thumb collecting the sticky beads that had already formed at the tip of his cock and spreading it along his length. 

"First I want to come on your tongue," your lips articulated against the skin of his throat as the hand that was in his breeches moved up his torso to close around his jaw, your thumb caressing his lower lip to emphasise your words. "Will you let me?" you added. In response, he let the tip of his tongue slip between his lips, touching the pad of your finger. "Let me show you," he whispered.

And indeed, Jace worked devotedly between your thighs, his tongue tracing the length of your slit, drinking in your essence as it flowed from your entrance like a delicious nectar. His tongue tickled your little knob, his thumbs spreading your folds to gain access to the treasure he coveted.

One of his fingers found your hole clenching around nothing, tracing small circles against it to force you to voice what you wanted. "Do you need me here?" he whispered against your flesh, the vibration of his deep voice sending shivers through your core. Your hands buried themselves in the dark mass of his hair and you moved your hips against his face, urging him to maintain the contact of his mouth against you. "Use your words, muña," he added, despite his nose being buried between your folds.

When you gave him the answer he was waiting for, he let a finger enter you in a delicious stretch. You held back a moan, your fingers digging deeper into his hair, not caring if you were hurting him or not. He continued to explore your cunt with his tongue, like a thirsty man, like a devoted man.

You wouldn't last long, your release close.

Jace then added a second finger. The sensation of his fingers inside you, against that rough spot, combined with that of his tongue between your folds, against your pearl, was simply divine. 

"Go on," Jace started, but you immediately cut him off. "Shut up." You didn't want him to speak. You wanted him to continue with his damn tongue, with his broad fingers inside you. You didn't want him to stop. "I am... I am close."

And your climax washed over your entire body like a wave of warmth. Your legs closed around your nephew's face.

It was probably one of the best sensations you'd ever experienced.

Still between your legs, his fingers gripping your thighs, Jace collected your arousal on his tongue, sending shivers of overstimulation down your spine, and your whole body shuddering in a brutal spasm. You straightened up, knees still bent, your hand returning to your nephew's hair to guide him over you, his face close to yours. You stroked his cheek gently, as if to let him know he was a good boy, and your thumb picked up the sticky fluid that was smeared all over the bottom of his face.

You were both out of breath. You from the intense release you'd felt, he from the dedication he'd shown.

A smirk formed at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your thumb between his lips to ensure he didn't waste anything. Jace tilted his face close to yours. "You taste divine," he breathed, turning your cheeks red. "But now I need to be inside you."

His fingers slipped between your thighs, where your centre was pulsing, still far too sensitive from the ministrations he had given you. 

"You can give me another, can't you?" He asked, and you nodded, so sore.

After he undressed, Jace pushed on your shoulders to make you lie down, but you skilfully changed positions, taking him by surprise.

You were unwilling to give him the power he wanted, not yet.

Straddling him, you moved your hips to rub your crotch against his erect manhood, spreading your wetness along his length. Beneath you, his torso rose and fell rapidly, and the grunts he let out conveyed his need for more. So your hand sought his hard member, guiding it to your entrance without letting it penetrate you. "So?" you asked playfully. "Do you think you've been a good boy ? Do you think you deserve to be inside me?" You wanted to make him beg, and Jace could see right through you. "To be the first?" you added, lowering your voice slightly, as if you were telling him a secret.

But he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer.

So he capitulated, giving you the defeat you'd been waiting for.

"Yes." he breathed. "Please." Your victorious smile stretched your lips and you guided him further against you, pressing his erection against your opening. Fuck. He was massive.

He was about to breathe a sigh of relief, ready to feel your velvet walls tighten around him, but you blocked his hip movement. 

It wasn't enough.

"Please who?" you asked, your fingers moving back and forth around his manhood. He glared at you. You were gloating. "Please, muña," he finally begged, and you gave him what he wanted.

You lowered your hips to let him slide into you in a long thrust that stretched you around him. He was indeedmassive, and the new sensation of having him inside you was a delicious mix of dull pain and burning pleasure. You stood still for a moment to adjust to his presence inside you, your core throbbing around him. The initial pinch gradually dissipated, replaced by a pleasant sensation that sent a wave of warmth through your body. 

And then he began to thrust in and out, pushing up to sink into you. "Fuck...fuck, you're tight," Jace growled. Your loose hair cascaded down either side of your face, tickling his cheeks, and he caught it in a messy bun to hold it behind your head. 

You could feel the same pleasure as before building up in your lower abdomen. 

Gods, you could feel him so intensely. So deeply too. Bouncing rhythmically against that particular part of you. 

You buried your head in his neck, his woody scent filling your nostrils.

It was primal. Animal, between the two of you. All that mattered was the here and now. Your body against his, the sweat beading between you, the moans filling the room.

Jace tugged at your hair, causing you to throw your head back, freeing access to your chest, and he straightened up into a sitting position, his member still deep inside you, to find your breast. He buried his face in it and your hand instinctively found the back of his head to stroke his hair. Jace's lips traced a trail of kisses down the valley between your breasts, following the curve of your flesh before closing around your nipple, which he sucked gently. One of his arms wrapped around you to hold you tight against him, his other hand resting on the breast he wasn't devouring.

You stayed like that for a while, your legs on either side of him, his mouth seeking solace in your breasts, the divine sensation of being full, with him inside you, in the softness of the night, the flames rocking your lovemaking.

One of Jace's arms finally found your back and in one swift movement he reversed position. He desperately needed more, sensing that he wouldn't last long. 

He pinned you beneath him, against the mattress, your legs immediately closing around him and the pace quickened.  His thrusts became more messy, more sloppy because of your two combined essences.  "You're mine, now" he grunted, and you shivered. His index and middle fingers wandered between your folds, caressing the spot where you were joined before moving to the pearl hidden at the top of your slit. "Am I?" you replied teasingly. You could feel him throbbing inside you. "Then be a good boy now and give muña your seed."

That was the spark that ignited the fire. Jace quickened the rhythm of his hips, his fingers still buried between your folds, his movements erratic. With each of his thrusts, you felt his member hitting that sensitive spot against your spongy inner walls. You tensed and for the second time that evening, your release flooded your entire body.  You were followed by your nephew as Jace spilled into you, his seed painting white ropes against your womb.

He lay still inside you for a moment, his cock softening as you both caught your breath, your hands in his dark curls, his head at the nape of your neck. 

You winced as he withdrew from your still sensitive core, his now cold seed flowing between your thighs. Jace dropped down beside you, satisfied. Then you turned to him. You grabbed his wrist one last time and guided his fingers to your centre, where your folds were smeared with the remnants of your lovemaking.

"Look how much you've left inside me," you whispered into his ear, making Jace collect his own seed on his fingertips and push it back into you. "I'm going to keep it all inside me, would you like that, sweet boy?" you whispered again.

And Jace pulled you against him to kiss you, his member stirring between his thighs, against you. It was true that he'd given you the upper hand this time. But he was ready to show you what he could do. You snuggled up against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

"Perhaps…We should bring the wedding date forward."

And he smiled.

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER ELEVEN ━━ Home, For Christmas

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 4.3K

☆ ━ warnings: subtle talks of dani’s bitchass homophobic dad what’s new

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: in honor of gameday 🫡sorry this took so long you guys!!!! hopefully the next one won’t lol ALSO! y��all i wrote julia in for a reason, she will end up being important :)

CHRISTMAS DAY at her grandparents’ house is always cozy and warm, filled with laughter and the smell of cinnamon and pine. Dani’s family fills the living room, sprawled across couches, perched on armchairs, and gathered around the fireplace. Her aunts and uncles are trading stories, her little cousins are running around in holiday pajamas, and there’s a pile of presents under the tree, each one wrapped in brightly colored paper.

Dani sits in the corner of the couch, balancing her youngest aunt Julia’s newborn, Grey, in her lap. She’s been fawning over him all day, enchanted by his tiny fingers and the little yawns he lets out every now and then. His downy dark hair sticks up at odd angles, and his soft little hands rest against her arm as she holds him, his eyes drifting closed with that peaceful look babies seem to have mastered.

Julia, who’s only twenty-five and just as warm and lovely as Dani remembers from her childhood, sits beside her, watching Dani with a smile. “You’ve got the magic touch, Dani,” she says, nudging her gently. “He hasn’t fallen asleep for anyone else yet today.”

Dani grins, glancing down at Grey as he lets out a tiny sigh. “Guess he knows I’m his favorite already,” she jokes, stroking the baby’s soft cheek.

Julia shifts a little, leaning back against the couch, and after a moment, she glances sideways at Dani. “How’s your dad been doing?” she asks quietly, her tone careful.

Dani rolls her eyes, her expression slipping into something neutral. “It’s… whatever,” she says, keeping her voice low. “We don’t really talk much.”

Julia nods, understanding written all over her face. “Yeah. Me neither.” There’s a heaviness to her voice, and Dani knows why. Julia is certainly not married to Grey’s father, him having left long before Grey was born. It’s something that Dani’s dad has shamed Julia for, his conservative views casting his half sister as some kind of disgrace. Dani’s heard the things he’s said about her—heard him scoff at Julia’s life choices like they were some kind of moral failure.

She looks at Julia, her heart aching for her. “I’m sorry,” Dani says quietly. “He’s like that with everything, not just you.”

Julia lets out a soft sigh, her gaze drifting to Grey, who’s now fully asleep, his little face relaxed and peaceful. “I know,” she murmurs. “But it still sucks. I just wish he could see… it’s not like I planned for things to turn out this way. But I love Grey. And I wouldn’t trade him for anything.” She smiles down at her son, her expression soft and full of love. “It’s just a difficult situation.”

Dani nods, her throat tight. “Yeah. I get it.” She glances down at Grey, feeling the familiar warmth in her chest. She doesn’t understand why her dad has to be so harsh, so unwilling to forgive. She’s been on that side of things when her own secret came to light, and when that same judgment had been turned on her, it was terrible.

Dani adjusts her grip on Grey, who shifts a little in his sleep, tiny fingers curling around the edge of her sweater.

After a moment, Julia speaks again, her voice soft. “So… are you and Paige still not talking?” she asks, her tone careful, but curious. “Last I heard, you two weren’t friends anymore.”

Dani’s stomach tightens a little, her gaze shifting to the floor. Julia’s met Paige plenty of times—Paige was practically family, as far as her grandparents and aunts were concerned. Dani can still remember how much her mom adored Paige, how her mom used to say that Paige was the best thing to happen to her, that Paige brought out this light in her daughter that she hadn’t seen in anyone else. It’s something that, in her quiet moments, Dani clings to—thinking that maybe her mom really would have understood her situation.

“Paige was always so sweet,” Julia continues, almost wistfully. “And I remember how much your mom loved her, Dani. She always said Paige was the best friend you could ever have.”

Dani sighs, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on her. Her chest tightens with the urge to spill everything—to tell Julia about how it was so much more than just friendship, how Paige is basically her entire world, how they love each other in a much different way than most know. Dani knows Julia isn’t homophobic, and she can’t imagine Julia judging her, especially after everything Julia herself has been through with her dad and such.

But the words catch in her throat. Her fear is too strong, a familiar, icy weight. She imagines what would happen if anything she said got back to her dad, even by accident. She remembers the camp, the isolation, the way it felt like she was being slowly erased. The thought of going back there makes her stomach twist with dread.

She takes a slow breath, then finally says, “No, we’re still not friends.” Her voice is flat, and she hates how empty it sounds. “And we’re… we’re not ever going to be friends again.”

Julia frowns, reaching over to place a comforting hand on Dani’s arm. “I’m sorry, Dani. That must be so hard. Losing a friend like that… I can only imagine.”

Dani just nods, swallowing back the ache in her throat. “Yeah,” she murmurs, her gaze fixed on Grey, who’s still blissfully asleep. “It is.”

Julia gives her a soft smile, a silent offer of comfort, but Dani barely notices, her mind drifting to thoughts of Paige. She feels like she’s buried that love as deeply as she can—hidden it away in a place where her dad and the church can’t touch it.

And she’s going to stay that way. Because that is what is going to keep it safe.

DANI SINKS into her blankets, watching Christmas Vacation play on her laptop, the warmth of the bed comforting against the bite of winter outside. She’d asked her dad to watch the movie with her, hoping for at least a little shared Christmas cheer, but he’d just brushed her off with a brief mutter of how tired he was. So here she is, alone, her room dimly lit, a quiet feeling of loneliness settling in.

The Griswold family is just finishing fitting their huge Christmas tree in their living room when Dani’s phone lights up beside her. She glances down and finds Paige’s name on her screen. Her heart does a little flip as she picks it up, biting back a smile.

Paige ❤️‍🔥

You home yet?

Dani ❤️‍🔥

yeah i got home like an hour ago

Paige ❤️‍🔥

you doing anything?

Dani pauses, glancing at her screen.

Dani ❤️‍🔥

watching christmas vacation in my bed

She sends the message and internally cringes a little as she realizes how lonely it sounds.

Paige ❤️‍🔥

By yourself?

Come over and watch it with me and my fam

Dani laughs softly, rolling her eyes. Of course Paige wouldn’t let her stay alone, not tonight. Paige always has that unwavering energy, that impulsive streak that Dani has never been able to resist.

Dani ❤️‍🔥

paige my dad’s home

Paige ❤️‍🔥

Sneak out!!!

I’ll come get you by your window

Dani stares at the screen, a little stunned, a little thrilled. Her fingers hover over the screen, her thumb hesitating over the keyboard.

Dani ❤️‍🔥

you’re insane

Paige ❤️‍🔥

And yet ur not saying no 😁😁

A grin tugs at Dani’s lips, and she feels her pulse quicken. She glances at her door, hoping and praying for her sake that her dad was true on his word and that he’s asleep, then quietly swings her legs off the bed. Closing her laptop, she grabs her thickest hoodie from her chair, pulling it over her head. She finds her Uggs under the bed, slipping them on and making her way to the window, heart pounding in anticipation. Her fingers fumble a bit as she undoes the lock, the cold air hitting her face the moment she slides it open.

Peering outside, she feels her heart skip as she spots Paige standing below. Paige is bundled up in her coat, hands deep in her pockets, and despite the shivering, she’s grinning up at Dani like this is the most natural thing in the world. Snow has started to fall again, gentle flakes catching in Paige’s hair and dusting her shoulders. She looks really pretty.

“Hey!” Paige calls up softly, her voice a mix of excitement and impatience. “You comin’ down, or what?”

Dani can’t help the smile that spreads across her face. She leans out a little, gripping the window frame for balance. “This is so stupid, you know that?” she whispers, trying not to laugh too loud.

Paige just shrugs, her grin undeterred. “Live a little!”

Dani laughs softly, the sound swallowed by the stillness of the night. She glances down, assessing the climb, feeling a pang of nervousness when she sees just how far the ground looks. Her window isn’t exactly low, and she can’t be sure the snow is soft. She swallows, feeling her pulse quicken as she considers her next move.

“Paige,” she whispers, trying to keep her voice down but still sounding panicked, “I’m going to fall!”

“If you do, I’ll catch you!” Paige whispers back, her voice carrying a confidence that only makes Dani’s heart beat faster. “Besides, there’s like a foot of fresh snow down here. You’ll be fine.”

Paige waves, motioning for her to climb down. Dani takes a deep breath, telling herself she’s done more dangerous things in her life than sneaking out of her own house. She slowly climbs through the window, her fingers gripping the cold edges of the siding as she carefully makes her way down. She’s almost to the bottom, just a couple of feet away from the ground, when her foot slips on the last ledge.

She lets out a small yelp, her fingers losing their grip, and she starts to tumble. There’s a split second of weightlessness, her heart in her throat, and then Paige’s arms are around her, just enough to slow her fall before they both collapse into the snow in a heap. The impact sends a puff of snow up around them, freezing and soft at the same time. Dani’s breath catches as she feels Paige’s arms around her, the warmth of her body cutting through the biting cold.

For a moment, they just lie there in the snow, laughing softly, breathless and tangled together. Their faces are close, so close that Dani can feel Paige’s breath against her cheek, warm and sweet, mingling with the cold night air. Paige’s cheeks are flushed pink, her nose red from the cold, and there’s a light in her eyes that makes Dani’s heart skip a beat.

Paige reaches up, brushing a few stray snowflakes from Dani’s face, her fingers lingering on her cheek. “You good?” she asks softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Dani nods, her own cheeks flushed. She’s suddenly hyper-aware of every point of contact between them—their knees, their hands, the faint tremor in Paige’s touch as her fingers trace along Dani’s cheek. She shivers, but this time, it has nothing to do with the cold.

Paige nods back, looking thoughtful, her hand dropping to swipe a bit of snow off Dani’s shoulder. She glances around, making sure no one’s watching, before leaning in. Her eyes search Dani’s face for a moment, just a flicker of hesitation, before she closes the distance, her lips brushing softly against Dani’s.

The kiss is barely more than a whisper, a featherlight touch that’s over almost as soon as it begins. But it leaves Dani breathless, her heart racing in her chest as she looks up at Paige. There’s a warmth in Paige’s eyes that makes Dani’s stomach flutter, a tenderness that feels like the best Christmas gift she’s ever received.

Paige pulls back, her eyes sparkling with mischief, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Come on,” she whispers, her voice warm, filled with a quiet joy that Dani feels mirrored in her own chest. Paige helps her to her feet, brushing snow off their coats as they stand together, grinning like conspirators in the snowy silence.

They link arms, Paige’s hand slipping into Dani’s pocket to hold her hand, the feeling of Paige’s fingers warming her whole body up. Together, they start making their way toward Paige’s house, the snow crunching beneath their feet, their laughter echoing softly in the stillness of the night.

They go through the back door of Paige’s house, each of them letting out a relieved sigh as the warmth surrounds them, chasing away the icy chill of the Minnesota night. Dani takes a moment to close her eyes, basking in the feeling of warmth creeping back into her fingers and toes, the familiar smell of cookies, cinnamon, and evergreen filling the air.

There in the kitchen, Drew is perched on a stool by the island, his legs swinging idly as he chews on a Christmas cookie dusted with red and green sprinkles. Bob, Paige’s dad, stands near the stove, pulling sprinkles out of a cabinet. A tray of freshly baked cookies cools on the counter, the sweet scent drifting through the room. Bob’s face lights up when he sees Dani and Paige sneaking in, a broad grin stretching across his face.

“Dani! Merry Christmas!” he exclaims, waving her over as if she were his own daughter. “I saved a couple cookies for you, but they almost fell victim to that creature—” he points to Drew, who giggles at the wording, frosting dusting the corners of his mouth “—over there.”

Dani laughs, an easy grin drifting to her face as she says, “I can see that. Thanks for letting me come over; I didn’t mean to intrude on family Christmas.”

Paige rolls her eyes, her hand on Dani’s hip as she pushes her toward the island. “Shut up, Dan, you’re never intruding.”

“She’s right,” Bob says cheerily, grabbing a couple plain cookies from the tray and placing them in front of the two empty stools next to Drew. “You’re family, Dani.”

Dani feels her face flush at his words, and her chest warms, too. It’s nice to know that they’re glad she’s here, that they don’t feel as though she’s intruding, that maybe she really belongs in this corner of her world. She’d really, really like to.

Dani sits on the bar stool next to Drew, and Paige sits on the other one so the brunette girl is in between the two Bueckers siblings. However, it seems as though the small distance between Dani and Paige is too much, because Dani feels Paige’s hand graze her thigh as she grabs hold of the stool Dani’s sat on, pulling it so close to her own that the two of them are practically sharing a seat. Their shoulders press against each other, as do the sides of their legs, and it’s enough to send a warm jolt through Dani.

Dani sends a little look to Paige, her brows raised ever so slightly, smirk playing her lips.

“What?” Paige asks, though she’s got a look that mirrors the Callan girl’s. “You were too far.”

Dani just shakes her head at the blonde’s words, watching as she grabs the remote and flicks through the Christmas movies until she finds Christmas Vacation, having told Dani that she should watch it with them instead and holding onto her word.

Dani feels a smile lifting her lips as she reaches for a cookie in the tray in front of her, placing it on her plate. She grabs a piping bag, too, squeezing a tiny bit of green icing onto her finger just to get a taste.

“Oh, you’re gettin’ into the icing already?” Paige teases, leaning in with an arched brow. She grabs her own piping bag and, without warning, dabs a bit of red frosting on the tip of Dani’s nose, laughing as Dani’s eyes widen.

Dani gasps, swatting at her with a laugh. “Paige!” she exclaims, grabbing her green icing before leaning over and spreading some onto Paige’s cheek in retaliation.

Paige’s mouth open in mock outrage, but before she can protest herself, Drew interrupts with a grin, reaching for another piping bag, and asking, “Are we having an icing fight?”

The seven-year-old’s words seem to catch Bob’s attention, who turns from where he was watching the movie to see what’s happening behind him. Dani watches his eyes trail over the green on her nose and the red on his daughter’s cheek and he gives them a playfully stern look before telling Drew, “No, buddy, no icing fight. You’ll get on Santa’s Naughty List next year if you do.”

Drew laughs a little, pointing at the two girls sitting next to him and saying, “Ooh, Naughty List.”

Paige just playfully sticks her tongue out at her little brother before grabbing a napkin. She dramatically uses it to wipe the red icing off of her cheek, before balling it up and tossing it back onto the island. Dani rolls her eyes at the blonde’s dramatics, reaching to grab her own napkin to clean up her nose. But Paige swats at the hand Dani was reaching. Dani sends Paige a look, watching as the girl beside her cautiously glances at her dad and Drew—whose attention’s have both been captured by the movie—before leaning in and grinning as she kisses the tip of Dani’s nose and then sticks her tongue out to lick the icing away. She pulls back and Dani’s sure her face is red—especially due to the proximity of Paige’s family—but Paige is just smiling mischievously, using her tongue to swipe away any remaining frosting on her lips.

Dani finally takes the liberty to actually decorate her cookie, deciding for the traditional Christmas tree route. She’s spreading the green icing along the sugar cookie carefully, her eyes occasionally flicking between Christmas Vacation and Paige decorating her own cookie. It’s more endearing to watch the latter—she’s decorating with exaggerated precision (though if Dani’s honest, she can’t tell what the glob of frosting is meant to look like… it might be an ornament), her tongue sticking out in concentration, her hair falling into her face ever so slightly. Dani flicks her eyes away, back to her own handiwork.

At one point, Paige leans over to whisper to Dani, “Look at Drew’s cookie… the sprinkles…”

Dani does as the blonde says, her gaze finding Drew, to the left of her. He’s humming quietly to himself, concentrating on drowning his cookie in red and green sprinkles, his fingers sticky and his cheeks dusted with sugar. Dani stifles a giggle as she leans in even closer to see the cookie piled high with so many sprinkles that it’s almost unrecognizable. She catches Paige’s eye, and they both burst into quiet laughter, trying not to let Drew hear.

“Hey, it’s nice!” Drew defends, noticing their stifled laughter.

From where he’s standing, Bob chuckles, watching the exchange with a fond smile. “You’re doing great, Drew,” he says, reaching over to ruffle his son’s hair, eyes flicking across the three cookies the kids before him are making. “Though, I think you and Paige both have some competition in Dani here.”

Dani watches as Paige looks at her dad in betrayal, though it’s true—her cookie is terrible. Dani just grins, nodding, nudging Paige’s knee under the counter. “Years of practice,” the brunette says in a mock-serious tone before carefully adding a few more sprinkles to her cookie.

Paige rolls her eyes, mumbling, “Whatever. Mine tastes better.”

CHRISTMAS VACATION ended not too long ago, and Drew and Bob went upstairs to bed, leaving Dani and Paige alone. The warm glow of the tree casts a soft light over the living room, and Home Alone now plays quietly on the screen, adding to the late-night comfort. Dani’s curled up against Paige, the two of them snuggled under a thick fleece blanket, Paige’s arm wrapped securely around her. Dani lets herself drift, lulled by the movie, the warmth, the way Paige’s fingers trace soft circles over her shoulder.

But then Paige shifts slightly beneath her, murmuring, “So… I know we promised not to get each other anything…”

Dani’s eyes immediately flick from the TV to Paige, her brow furrowing as she pulls back slightly, a hint of accusation in her gaze. “Tell me you didn’t get me something.”

Paige, looking a little sheepish, averts her eyes and rubs the back of her neck, mumbling, “Well…”

“Paige!” Dani sits up fully now, her voice holding a mixture of surprise and mild reproach. “We promised not to!”

“I know, I know!” Paige protests, her face flushed as she tries to defend herself. “And I wasn’t going to, I swear! But then I was at the mall literally yesterday, just doing some last-minute shopping for my family, and—” She pauses, looking a bit embarrassed but determined to explain. “I saw this thing that really reminded me of you…”

Dani sighs, her shoulders dropping a little as she shakes her head. “Paige…”

“I know,” Paige says quickly, hands lifted in a half-hearted attempt at appeasement. “But it was on sale because of the holidays! I hardly spent any money on it.”

Dani narrows her eyes, trying not to let the affection she feels soften her mock glare. “Still. I feel bad. If I’d known you’d gotten me something, I would’ve gotten you something.”

“Don’t feel bad,” Paige says, shaking her head earnestly. “I was the one who went against our promise, not you.”

They fall silent for a moment, the only sound in the room coming from the movie on the TV. Dani’s gaze flickers to Paige, whose face is shadowed in the dim light. There’s something vulnerable in the way Paige looks at her, something almost tentative, and it makes Dani’s heart ache in a way she can’t quite name.

Finally, Paige speaks up again, her voice soft. “Can I go get it?”

Dani nods, and Paige disentangles herself from their cozy nest of blankets, slipping upstairs while Dani stays on the couch, her mind racing a little. She knows Paige put thought into this, that whatever it is, it’s going to mean something.

Moments later, Paige is bounding down the stairs again, a tiny jewelry box held carefully in her hand. She pauses by the couch, her gaze flickering between the box and Dani, and Dani watches her, heart thudding with a mix of anticipation and warmth.

“Here,” Paige says softly, holding out the box as she sits back down beside Dani, even closer than before, their entire sides pressed up against each other.

Dani takes the box, feeling the slight weight of it in her hands, and slowly lifts the lid. Inside is a delicate silver necklace, the pendant small and simple—almost nondescript, but close up she can see the engraving on it, the tiny, intricate letters that spell out a single word: home.

Dani’s breath catches as she stares down at the pendant, her fingers trembling slightly as she lifts it. She can feel her throat tighten, emotion welling up inside her as the weight of the word hits her fully. It’s more than a necklace; it’s a message, a reminder of everything Paige has been to her, a promise that wherever Paige is, she’ll always have a place to belong.

She glances up at Paige, her eyes stinging, her voice barely above a whisper. “You… you really thought of me when you saw this?”

Paige nods, her gaze soft and steady, her fingers reaching out to brush lightly against Dani’s. “Yeah,” she says, her voice equally soft, almost like she’s afraid of breaking the moment. “I know things have been… hard, with your dad and everything. I just… I wanted you to have something that reminds you that you’ll always have a home with me. No matter what.”

Dani feels the tears slip down her cheeks, and she doesn’t bother to wipe them away. She just lets the words sink in, lets herself feel the weight of Paige’s thoughtfulness, her kindness, the unwavering support Paige always seems to offer, even when Dani feels like she doesn’t deserve it.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Paige moves closer, pulling Dani into a hug, her arms wrapping securely around her. She rests her chin on top of Dani’s head, her fingers gently stroking her back, and Dani melts into her, closing her eyes and breathing in Paige’s familiar scent.

“I love you,” Paige murmurs into her hair, her voice soft and steady, filled with a warmth that wraps around Dani like a blanket.

Dani’s own arms tighten around Paige, and she whispers back, “I love you, too.”

They stay like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading away. Then, slowly, Paige pulls back, her gaze meeting Dani’s, and there’s a question in her eyes, one Dani answers by leaning in, pressing her lips softly to Paige’s.

The kiss is gentle, almost tentative at first, a quiet meeting of emotions unspoken. But as the seconds stretch, Dani lets herself get lost in it, her hand slipping up to rest against Paige’s cheek, her fingers brushing along her jaw. Paige’s hand finds the small of Dani’s back, pulling her in closer, and Dani feels her heart pounding, the warmth of Paige’s touch grounding her, steadying her.

When they finally pull back, their faces are close, their breaths mingling, and Dani can’t help but smile, the kind of smile that’s soft and true, filled with a happiness she rarely allows herself to feel.

Paige grins back, her fingers brushing over Dani’s cheek as she murmurs, “Merry Christmas, Dani.”

Dani’s voice is quiet, but full of warmth. “Merry Christmas, Paige.”

[shisabun]

Before I start, I just want to say thank you to the husbands, brothers, and fathers who voted to support their daughters, sisters, and wives. What I'm about to say doesn't include you.

To the women who voted for Trump, you are a disgrace. Thanks to you, your children and grandchildren will be forced to fight the war that was won by your grandmothers.

You sit content and joyful while others mourn. You laugh in the face of their fears when there's a knife floating above your head poised to fall. You have no idea what's coming, but any woman with half a braincell does.

Let me tell you a story. My great aunt was basically my grandmother. She was born in the 1930s in Spain. Right after their revolution. Right after Spain became a dictatorship. She told me so many stories in her final years that I'll keep with me for the rest of my life. But I'll give one example.

One of her closest friends married young. Her husband claimed she was unfaithful and literally beat her to death. He was never arrested. He was never convinced. He walked away free and remarried in less than a month. Catholicism wouldn't allow divorce back then. He wanted to get remarried and simply got away with it because he was a cop. Franco gave cops full impunity. So does Project 2025.

I know some people reading this are rolling their eyes, and you know what?

Fuck. You. You are trash.

That girl was murdered at 20, and her killer walked free after openingly admitting it. My Tia never told me her name, but she carried her in her heart until the day she died at 98. And so do I.

To my fellow women who are mourning and scared right now, I'll give you the same advice my mother gave me. "Have your cry. Then get up and get things done. You're strong enough not to have this break you."

You are Mary and Esther. You are Caterina Sforza. You are Princess Diana. You are Anna May Wong. You are the living legacy of every woman who has come before you. You carry their strength, their courage, and their determination.

This shit is going to suck. Pure and simple. But we'll do what we've always done. We'll bite and claw our way to a better future. We'll tear down every obstacle so our children and grandchildren will have an easier path to walk.

We are dragons in human form. Steel your heart and give them nothing. Do not give them your affection, your care, or your bodies. Fuck being demure and mindful. When they spew hate, you spit fire. When they ask for your smile, you give them your fangs. Become a walking inferno that they have no choice but to take note of. Do not yield.

You are powerful, and you are not alone. You are a sister in a coven that is millions strong. You are the daughters of the witches they couldn't burn.

To my fellow Millennials. I know you're tired. Our young adult lives were stolen from us, and we've been struggling uphill ever since. But do what the previous generation never did for us. Fight. Fight for the ones that are entering adulthood. Fight for the children who have no idea what they're about to grow into.

They called us snowflakes for pointing out their flaws. Fine. Let's give them a fucking blizzard. If they try to build momentum, we stop them. We are at the age where we need to be both shield and anchor. Let. Nothing. Pass.

We're about to face an orange shitstorm of epic proportions. But we'll do as we've always done. We fight, we endure, and we win. In the words of Samwise Gamgee, "There's good in this world, and it's worth fighting for."

[webslingingslasher]

https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/721605644038389760/pregnancy-scare-with-fratpeter-what-would-he-do?source=share

Is there ever a pregnancy scare after they're in the girlfriend phase?

*cleaning out my drafts. mentions of pregnancy and a slight suggestion of abortion.*

you groan at the gentle shake you're receiving and you shrug it off while half awake. you're unbelievably tired and the small window of rest you got wasn't enough.

'trouble? c'mon, get up.' peter's hand comes down rough on your backside, you whine and roll over. 'but i'm sleepy-eepy.' the warmth of peter's bed is ripped away from you, he's holding the blanket in his hands.

'now i'm cold.' and while it's not peter's fault and he's only doing what you asked, you feel a little frustrated at the knowledge of not being able to go back to sleep.

'if you get up now, i'll shower with you. ten, nine, eight, seven... that's my girl, super proud of you.'

you might've woken up grouchy, but peter set your mood right in the shower and now you keep giving his arm little kisses. 'my handsome man.' peter speaks into your hairline, 'it's just a white shirt, you heathen.'

you softly dig your teeth into the thick of his bicep while his aunt has her back turned mixing up a side salad. you pull back without a trace and talk into his skin. 'and my man looks so yummy in it.'

'see? that nap energized you more than you thought.'

'that or your precious mouth and nice way you use it on me.' peter gives you a charming smile. 'you're on a roll tonight, trouble.' you wrap your arms around his and give a final mark, it's time to be a smidge respectful in his childhood home.

peter breaks away to refill your wine glass and top may's off. you thank him with a small kiss, may thanks him by asking him to grab rolls from the oven.

---

there's a positive pregnancy test in your shaking hands. each time you blink it becomes more and more clear, you clutch your stomach as if you already had a month nine belly.

'fuck.'

what are you supposed to do?

tears fall fast, they hit your palms and positive test before you look around the bathroom. why are you alone? where's peter? you think of your boyfriend, you think of how royally fucked this makes things.

call it selfish but you wanted peter all to yourself for a few years and now you're jumping forward a hundred steps. 'fuck.' this isn't fair to either of you, you don't have it figured out yet.

you stare at the test one more time, you need to be sure. you close your eyes and count to ten, no matter how many times you try, the answer doesn't change.

'holy fucking shit, i'm-'

about to piss your pants. you fly up from the bed lightning fast, hightailing it to peter's bathroom before holding your head in your hands. you're drowsy and reminding yourself it was just a dream, but it felt so real.

but, no, just a dream. it's a dream because you're not pregnant. you just had your period... you just had it... it's only been... your stomach drops, why can't you remember? in four seconds you are wide, wide awake and you're going for your phone on peter's nightstand.

it's three in the morning and you haven't had a period in at least five weeks.

'peter, get up.' you're not soft spoken or gentle, you're full of terror and he's about to be too. you push at his arm roughly, it stirs him just enough you could break through the sleep.

'peter, get up right now.' a slow whine, you're not playing and his stubbornness is about to have you wake up the entire apartment complex. 'get the fuck up, peter.'

you're mean but it's the only thing stopping you from going full blown psycho and curling into a screaming, crying ball on his floor.

'peter,' you rush out his name one more time, this time he responds.

'what’s go-‘

'i think i'm pregnant and i'm about to freak the fuck out and i really, really need you to keep me from doing that right now.' it hits all at once, you try to breathe but you can't. it's peter's turn to fly up from the bed, he only goes as far as he needs to wrap you in a tight hug.

'trouble,' the name makes you sob, you really are trouble. 'shh, you're okay, we're okay.' it's not fair of peter to hold you calmly as if he's not scared shitless himself. 'we're so fucked, peter. i ruined everything.'

your mind is spinning and your boyfriend is keeping you grounded. 'nothing is ruined, nothing is fucked. we're okay, i promise we're okay.' no, peter's not thinking how you are. he doesn't understand what you just did to you both.

'i did, i really, really did. we just graduated, we don't live together, you're still waiting for that research position to open and my boyfriend slash baby daddy is going to die because he's also spider-man.'

it's all ruined. you don't even know what you ruined and that's the worse part, you ended it before it started.

'hey, trouble. one thing at a time, okay? we have time to figure it out if we need to. do we need to go get a test?' you nod, the idea of your dream turning into reality makes you want to sob.

'speaking of dying, i killed the last three plants ethan gave me. so, how nice is that? a dead dad and a mom who kills.' peter hugs you tighter, he wants to push all your suffering into him right now. you go one further, this is the final nail in the coffin.

'what if i'm not ready to be a mom?'

'we have time to figure-' he doesn't understand. 'no, what if i'm not ready to be a mom?' a soft kiss on your forehead tells you he read between the lines, it also tells you he doesn't resent you for the idea.

'i'm here for you, okay? i'm here for whatever decision you make and we'll figure it out together. we're a team. and i promise you, trouble, i'm not dying. kid or no kid, i won't let spider-man be the thing that does me in.'

you want this with peter, you really do. just... not now. a baby this young was never in the cards, you feel like you shouldn't be in this position but you played stupid games and won an unexpected prize.

'fuck. peter, i really think i might be pregnant.'

peter's being a strong front because you need it but he's just as unprepared as you are. 'have you been feeling sick?' you shake your head, you've felt normal until this very moment.

'i had i dream i was staring at a positive test and it felt so real that it woke me up and then i couldn't remember the last time i had my period so i looked at my phone and we're charting into week five.'

peter almost lets a curse slip, he contains it for you. 'okay, we're okay. i promise we're okay, we just need to make sure if you're pregnant or not. can you wait until morning or do we need to go now?'

peter using 'you' and 'pregnant' in the same sentence makes you want to throw up and you can't blame it on potential morning sickness. you're disgusted in yourself. this wasn't the timeline.

you couldn't last another few hours in this state, you'd go mad in record timing. 'now. right now.' in under a minute peter is stuffing a hoodie over your head and a shirt over his. you feel yourself on the verge of a breakdown but peter's outstretched hand tells you he's here for it.

---

'what if you resent me in like...' peter's already shaking his head, you can't put a date on it, what if it's now? 'wait, is it already happening? do you hate me?'

peter stops with you outside of the bodega right up the road from his apartment, he had been listening to your spiral the entire time with a calm demeanor.

'stop. i know this wasn't the plan and i know this isn't what we wanted right now but i don't want you thinking i could ever hate you or blame you for this. i wish i could make you feel better about this, trouble. i love you, i love you more than i have ever loved anything. i love you more than i thought was possible. i love you more than any song or book or movie could ever describe. and guess what? i'd love our kid just the same. shit, maybe even more cause you gave me one.'

is it hormones or is it because that's the best thing he could've ever told you at this moment? you crush him in a hug, he's a little surprised but holds you just the same. 'thank you.' for the first time since you woke up, you're able to breathe.

peter doesn't say you're welcome because you don't have anything to thank him for. he's doing what he'd do if this was however many years in the future and when it was a bit more planned. 'i didn't bring my wallet.'

peter scoffs, 'you think i'd make you pay for this?'

'i already feel like a burden.'

'trouble.' you bite your tongue, if peter can be nice enough to hold a poker face, you can stop telling yourself he secretly hates you. you need an answer and it lies inside the shop in a little box.

peter's holding the test, you couldn't bring yourself to touch it. you're standing in front of the refrigerator section staring at the drink selection, more than half focused on your reflection instead. peter catches on and taps your hand, you blink awake and look at three different cans before your brain hurts.

'what should i get?'

'whatever you want, trouble.'

'i can't think.' you can't. it's either total silence and dissociation or racing thoughts, you don't know peace anymore. if you're carrying his child, peter can pick a drink for you.

'hm. are you in the mood for something flavored?'

sweet. sugary. something to coat your mouth with a lasting aftertaste even if the news you were about to receive was on the bitter side.

'yeah.' peter nixes the three shelfs of water. 'carbonated or not?' too much of a choice, you shrug half-heartedly. 'i don't know.' peter looks behind him, a different choice entirely.

when's the last time you had an icee?

you don't notice peter walk off, you slipped back into staring at yourself in a baggy hoodie. if you jumped forward six months, how tight would it be?

peter grabs a small cup, looks at the clear-blue box in his hand and grabs a large one instead. a mixture of cherry and coke, it's nearly freezing his hand. it's going to be enough to keep your mind in the land of the living.

you find peter, lean against his back and close your eyes, he makes small movements and allows you to rest your weight on him. you're tired. mentally and emotionally. 'trouble?' you perk up again, peter halfway turns to hand over a frozen drink big enough for four.

'a slushie?' you give it a taste, you sip it down until your throat burns. 'heck yeah. and look at that, you love it.' he's not wrong. you can't remember the last time you had one and this somehow just made things a little better.

'it's making me feel better.'

'see? everyone needs some sugar now and then.'

---

for someone who made peter get out of bed at three in the morning and force him down to the corner store for a pregnancy test, you sure can't stomach the idea of taking it.

if it's a no, it'll be the biggest breath of fresh air you've ever had. if it's a yes, you and peter's life is about to forever change and you don't think you're ready for that yet.

you might not get peter to yourself for a few years, but you have him tonight and that's comfort enough. 'ready?' you intertwine your fingers with peter as he asks and pulls you out the front door. it's a quiet walk back sharing your cup of sugar before you silently creep back inside his aunt's apartment.

'ready to pee?'

you shake your head, peter offers his laptop up. ten minutes into a show, you have to go. fifteen minutes, it's pressing. twenty and you're about to burst.

you're not ready for the answer.

you'd be a bad mom.

'i drank wine tonight, peter. that's so bad, i'm such a bad person.'

'you're not a bad person, trouble. guess what? no one knows they're pregnant until they know. it's not your fault you kept living life how you normally do.'

you might've fucked things up but you chose the best person to do it with.

'i have to pee.' for just a teeny, tiny second- peter's guard faults. he's just as scared of the results, it fills you with solace. you're not the only one here who doesn't want this, even if he won't tell you so.

'want me to come with?'

you shake your head and don't even look at the box when you swipe it from his desk. your hand shakes as you tear the blue plastic, it's dawned on you that this is the first time you've ever taken one. you never thought you’d be here.

you hold your eyes closed while you do it as if the results would show immediately. you snap the cap back into place and hide it behind you. starting a five minute timer, you wait on the answer to the future.

poking your head out from his bathroom you clear your throat. 'counting down.'

'how are you feeling? still doing okay?' you nod, you're really thankful he has your back tonight. it's nice to know that when you're truly falling apart, he's your backbone.

'i love you.'

'i love you too, sweetheart.'

you've been so good and so brave this whole time, you haven't cried once. but that just broke you and you can't place why. you try to will away the sting in your eyes, it doesn't work.

a broken whimper and you can't hold it in anymore.

you fall apart and before you could collapse to the floor, peter's tucking you into his chest and kissing your head. 'shh, you're okay. i promise you're okay, you have me. you'll always have me.'

'promise?'

'i promise, trouble. don't you remember? i couldn't let you go if i tried.'

'i know you said to stop but i'm really sorry and i need you to know that.' peter feels his heart break, he must've done something wrong at some point to make you think he could ever be upset at you for this.

but peter thinks you need him to accept it. 'it's okay. i know you're sorry and it's okay.' you relax and exhale into him, you stop your tears because crying is useless and it's only making you feel worse.

'i'm being so annoying, aren't i?'

'not in the slightest, do you see how long it took you to cry?'

you sniff and wipe away any stray tears before giving peter a pathetic pucker. 'kiss, please.' you're granted the slow and soft kind, the one that is just pure care and adoration.

'will you promise to keep having sex with me if i'm pregnant?'

peter can't hold in his laugh, you hear yourself and giggle with him. 'i promise, trouble. you can get it anytime. i mean, you already do, but with my baby in you- you'll get absolutely anything you want, whenever you want.'

'even if i want cheetos at two in the morning?' peter thinks that's light work, he graces your cheek with a kiss of the same kind. 'especially then.' it's not always rainbows and butterflies. 'what about when my belly pops, my hormones hit the ceiling, my feet are swollen, i'm hot all the time, and i just constantly scream at you?'

'you wouldn't do that.' well, you're not planning on it but you have no idea what effects this will have on you. 'but if you did, i'd take it in stride. if i was carrying around twenty pounds that made me constantly want to piss my pants, i'd be grumpy too.'

'we're gonna be so tired.'

'we already are.'

you chew on your bottom lip for a moment. 'what if i get stretch marks?'

'from growing my kid? couldn't think of anything sexier, trouble.'

it's not what was planned, but if this is how it'll be, you'll be okay. peter was right, you would figure it out. together.

'you have an answer for everything.'

'that's why you love me so much. you needed to find someone who could keep up with you.'

'and oh boy can you keep up and catch me.'

you match his smile, you feel good. you feel like things aren't so ruined now. 'it's my favorite thing to do.' you scrunch your nose up at him before giving a small jump to your alarm tone.

you end the timer. 'oh god.' that.

'don't undo what we just did. no more panic, we're okay with this, right? if it's a yes, we're doing this?'

it's terrifying to think you could be a parent in under a year but something tells you that you'll be just fine with peter by your side. 'yeah, we're doing this.'

peter nods towards his bathroom door, 'ready?'

for the first time tonight, you feel confident. 'yes.' you back up for the results, wrapping your palm around the middle until you're next to peter again.

you both take a deep breath and you finally get to see the answer.

peter exhales out, 'holy shit.'

your shoulders slump when you mutter out, 'thank god.'

'holy fuck, i thought my stomach was about to come out of my ass for a second. don't get me wrong if it was-'

'i was right there with you, petey. we could've figured it out but thank god we don't have to.' you hold a hand over your heart and feel calm wash over you. 'are we bad people for being happy about this?'

peter shakes his head. 'no, not at all. we're not ready for that yet, but now we know we could be.'

you think you're speaking for the both of you and you think it needs to be said. 'to be clear, we do want kids, just later down the road. and this was just a little scare but now that we know we don't want any right now, we should be a little more careful about how we do things, right?'

'a hundred percent, trouble. you said it before i could.'

'good.' you take another peek at the test, double confirmation. 'now can you please feed me? i'm famished.'

even if you weren't pregnant, peter would do anything for you.

'anything my baby wants, she gets.'

[pollymorgan]

Teacher Negan - The Football Game - Part 1

Warnings: A very large age difference and of course, smut

Oh, and very important: It's all fiction of course! Please, my dears, use condoms and don't go with old men! :-P

That my mother has to move several hundred miles away with my aunt to open a beauty salon, especially before the last year of my high school, was initially a big shock for me, but now I also see the advantages it brings. First of all, I finally get out of my little town, and there's also the immediate proximity to my cousin. Cassady is 5 years older than me, to be exact 23, but we have always gotten along great. Another advantage is that I no longer have to see my ex-boyfriend every day, since we are no longer in the same class. Plus, I still have almost the entire summer vacation ahead of me to enjoy life to the fullest, like now at this football game. If I were to say I love football, that would be an understatement, because it feels like every American does. For me, it's an absolute dream to live in the city of my favorite team. That's why I'm wearing the appropriate hoodie over my dress and, of course, the matching cap at the game.

The atmosphere in the stadium is absolutely insane and totally captivating. Even if my cousin doesn't really see it that way and only came along because of me.

Now we just have to push through a horde of men to get to our seats. And then hopefully it will start soon. Even though the game will really become secondary. Because the atmosphere alone is reason enough to be here.

Getting to our seats, however, proves to be more difficult than expected. We each have two large beer cups in hand and somehow have to get through this crowd. But the line at the drinks stand was huge, and I didn't want to spend the start of the game waiting in line. So we planned ahead. I almost managed to get to my seat unscathed, when suddenly this guy turns around in a flash. Everything happens so quickly that I can't react anymore, and so I spill half of the beer on him and myself. The tall stranger initially looks at me very angrily and is about to scold me, but then his look suddenly changes as his dark eyes meet mine.

"What the hell.. oh, sorry.. I didn't mean to spill your drink, ...can I offer you a new one? Of course, only if you're already 21.." He starts to grin, and his perfectly white row of teeth shines through his silver-black beard.

I'm still a bit overwhelmed by the whole situation and look bewildered at the large wet spot on his black shirt under his dark jacket. Guys my age are never dressed so well. Only maybe for a funeral or a prom, and I've never been to either.

"I'm already 22.." I say somewhat defiantly, and according to my fake ID, that wouldn't even be a lie.

"Perfect.." he concludes.

He turns around to hand me a full beer from the drinks available behind him. I take it gratefully, and finally my cousin and I can sit down exhausted in our seats.

Immediately she whispers excitedly in my ear, "Did you see how that guy looked at you? He's at least twice as old as you and basically undressed you with his eyes .. pretty cringe..".

I look at her innocently, "Cringe? I actually find him quite cute!"

"Cute?" she asks in surprise, rolling her eyes.

The stranger sits down in the seat right next to me and toasts us.

"Thanks," I say again.

"No problem, pleasure to meet you, i’m Negan!"

"Sam.." I stammer somewhat clumsily.

Then everyone turns back to their groups. After a while, I'm engrossed in conversation with my cousin again, but the guy next to me has put on such an intense cologne that it lingers in my nose the whole time. It smells so ruggedly masculine that it almost drives me crazy. Whenever I have the chance, I shyly glance to the right, but he doesn't look at me anymore. I'm strangely disappointed, so I try to push that thought aside.

The game is running fantastically. My team is winning, which makes me so euphoric that I even infect my cousin with it.

After the game, as we're getting ready to leave, someone roughly grabs my arm. I startle briefly, then look back into the dark eyes that send a pleasant tingling sensation through my entire body.

"Do you and your friend maybe want to come with us to a bar to celebrate the victory a bit?" he asks with a deep tone, and I feel my stomach vibrating at his words.

Suddenly, my cousin's voice snaps me out of my trance. "No, sorry, we have to get up early..".

I look at her puzzled.

"Um, actually... apologize for us for a moment!".

The stranger seems to be thoroughly amused by this situation.

I turn to her and whisper in her ear, "That sounds fun... come on, let's go with them!"

"With these guys?!" she says a bit too loudly.

Startled, I turn around, but he is engrossed in a conversation again and apparently, thankfully, hasn't noticed. After a seemingly endless discussion, we agree that I will go to the bar with them without her. But only with the promise to be reachable on the phone at all times.

Reluctantly, Cassady bids me goodbye with a hug and whispers in my ear, "Take care of yourself... and don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Since my cousin has quite a bit of a checkered past, I don't even feel guilty promising her that.

When I agree to go with them, the stranger firmly takes my hand to guide me through the crowd out of the stadium. I'm initially a bit shocked by this strange situation, but fearing to lose him among the crowd, I interlock my fingers tightly with his and let him lead me out of the stadium.

The three of us, along with another man, take a seat on the backseat of a large black Audi. The men in the car are engaged in lively conversation about the game. Fortunately, I understand quite a bit about football and can engage in some discussion without sounding dumb, even though everyone else present is probably 30 years older than me.

After a short ride, we park in front of a small bar.

As we enter, the smell of smoke and alcohol greets me. The men take a seat at a round table, and I excuse myself for a moment to go to the bathroom.

There, I take off my sweater and am quite glad that I'm wearing a short black dress underneath. I take off my cap and let my hair down, then adjust it and try to fix my makeup a bit. I take a deep breath a few more times, looking at myself in the mirror. Then I go back, determined. But the table is empty. Startled, I look around, a thousand thoughts racing through my head.

But then I hear someone call out, "Here we are!" The voice comes from the billiard table. Relieved, I see Negan sitting on a sofa in front of the others. I walk purposefully towards them.

Two are already playing, and the clattering of the balls drowns out the conversations in the entire bar.

Since the couch is already occupied, I take a seat on the armrest next to Negan. He unabashedly looks me up and down and then offers me a beer.

"You look damn good..." he says directly, making my heart skip a beat and my cheeks blush.

After the men finish their game, I challenge him. He accepts with a smile, probably not expecting that I practically grew up at the billiard table. As he takes his first shots, he realizes it's not as easy as he thought, which pleases me.

Watching him concentrate more on the game makes me proud, and he looks even better doing it. As he leans closer to make his next move, he unexpectedly gives me a rather strong pat on the backside.

"Hey, unfair move!" I protest immediately, which only elicits a tired smile from him, but sends a strong tingle down in my lower abdomen.

But I manage to win against him, albeit very narrowly, which clearly annoys him. Afterwards, he has to endure some teasing from his buddies. Resignedly, he sits back on the sofa, and I proudly perch on the armrest again.

During the next round with his friends, we engage in animated discussions about their gameplay and continue drinking our beer. After a while, Negan starts touching my bare shin. At first, he just places his warm hand there, but then he starts stroking it slowly. The touches of his large rough hands are so gentle that they give me goosebumps. I enjoy this feeling and what it does to me to the fullest. I'm disappointed when he lets go of my leg, but only to offer me a vodka shot that the waitress had placed on a large tray in front of us. The drink is much needed, as my mouth feels incredibly dry.

We clink glasses, and I down the shot in one go. The sharp alcohol burns in my throat and then warms my stomach, shooting straight to my head. I can tell that Negan is watching my every move closely.

As soon as I place the empty glass back on the table, he puts his hand on my thigh.

"You look so damn sexy drinking it all in one go, do you like swallowing other things too?" he whispers unabashedly.

I almost slap him out of reflex, but as I look into his grinning face and his lustful eyes meet mine, my whole lower abdomen tightens, and I can't help but smirk. We gaze at each other for a while, and then I decisively say, "Why don't you find out.."

Without warning, he pulls me onto his lap, and before I know it, I'm straddling him, and he immediately starts kissing me. His lips are incredibly demanding. I place my hands on his cheeks to try to control the situation somewhat, while I completely forget everything around me and simply ignore the stupid comments from others.

His fingers trail down my back purposefully, immediately gripping my buttocks tightly. Then he presses me firmly against his pelvis. Excited, I breathe against his open mouth as I feel his penis getting harder and pressing strongly against me.

Sensing my hesitation, he whispers softly, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Nothing.. it's just pretty big.." I grin, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He smiles contentedly and presses me against him again, then gently kisses the sensitive skin on my neck and says in my ear, "Oh, don't worry, pretty princess, I'll order a taxi for us now, and then we'll go to my place where I'll pamper you so much that your little pussy will get nice and wet for me, and then my big, hard cock can slide into you slowly and effortlessly. How does that sound?"

His deep voice and direct manner drive me crazy. I nod decisively and kiss him again. I then take his right hand off my butt and guide it under my dress, directly between my legs.

"I'm already so wet for you, feel it!" I reply somewhat shyly.

His fingers deftly shift my panties aside, while his eyes scan my face precisely, enjoying every reaction from me. Slowly, he skillfully glides his middle finger through my cleft, causing me to involuntarily flinch.

"You're such a naughty sweet girl!" he remarks amusedly, as his finger leaves my most intimate place again, moistening my lips with my wetness. He then kisses me again, passionately sucking my taste from my lips. "You taste incredibly good.." he says contentedly.

[knickynoo]

I don't know if you've done this before: headcanons on Marty Junior and Marlene?

I'm almost positive I have done some sort of Junior and Marlene headcanon post, but I can't find it, so here are some off the top of my head. Gonna go with the versions of them that I imagine for the timeline that's fixed—where the Rolls Royce accident never happened—and Marty and Jennifer aren't miserable, lol. I think both Junior and Marlene would be more well adjusted in that one (especially Junior!)

• The difference in their personalities is evident to Marty and Jen pretty much from the start, with Marlene being the louder, more demanding of the twins and Junior being a much "easier" baby.

• They're extremely close, and Marlene naturally takes on the role of Junior's protector. Often, Marty and Jen have to remind Marlene to take a step back because she's being a little too much of a mother-hen to her brother, and they want Junior to learn to stand on his own two feet.

• Fixed-timeline Junior is quite different from the version of him in the 2015 we see in the movie. He's been raised in a more stable environment with a father who hasn't been defeated by life, so he's not the wimpy, scared little greasy guy who's easily pushed around. He's more sure of himself, not so easily frazzled, and is every bit as big-hearted as his father.

• Junior is not neurotypical. (How can he be? Look at Marty and George) I don't have a specific diagnosis in mind, but I know a draft of part II made reference to him being in a remedial school (and failing) so there's likely some learning disorder at play. In one of my Doctober chapters that include two-year-old versions of the twins, Clara's excited to learn that Junior has picked up a few new words—meanwhile, Marlene is using full sentences—so I do headcanon him as having been delayed in some areas.

[Side note: in that same scene, Doc tells Marty not to worry about Junior's progress, since Jules didn't start speaking until three-and-a-half, lol]

• Marty loves, loves, loves Marlene so much, but sometimes he thinks that she will be the death of him. Especially when she's young and full of sass and always getting into everything and he's struggling to keep up with her. He and Jen 100% lose Marlene in the mall on more than one occasion, and when they find her, she's just like, *shrug.*

• The twins have a special bond with Doc and Clara. Clara dotes on them but is especially close with Junior while Doc is closer to Marlene. When the kids are little and Marty and Jen feel like they're about to collapse from exhaustion, they dump Junior and Marlene at the Brown home and know they'll be well taken care of.

• As Marlene gets older, she's really into fashion, so she's close with her Aunt Linda. I can see Marlene being popular, but she's the type of popular girl who's liked by everyone. She has attitude, but she's not mean.

• Junior is just...Junior. He loves life and is out there doing his thing. He's the type who has a new hobby or interest every week, and Marty and Jen just have to roll with it. He walks in from school one day and goes, "I'm going to be a famous dancer, I decided" and then a week later says, "I want to learn to build a car" and they're just like, "Oh. Okay."

• I think they'd both try to learn an instrument at some point (likely guitar taught by Marty) but I can't decide if either of them would stick with it long term. Somehow, I don't see them being musicians.

• There's a part of me that wants to say an older Marlene eventually learns about time travel and all the wild stuff Marty went through. Idk how it would happen, though. Maybe she overhears something whispered between her parents in private or maybe she's just very perceptive and notices her father being weird about certain events in his life, so she corners him and is like, "Okay, Dad, spill the beans." Perhaps she's also put together some clues in all her time spent with Doc.

Thats about all I've got for now. Thanks for the ask!

[inneedofsupervision]

I didn't ask, did I? (Chapter 7)

Happy begrudgingly steps aside and walks after Tony into the diner. The billionaire skillfully ignores the gasps of surprise and the poor attempt to take pictures of him secretly as he strides straight up to the counter. "Two cheeseburgers and a large fry. To go." "Please get in line and wait for your turn, Sir." "Excuse me?" Tony slowly pulls his sunglasses down and glances at the skinny teen behind the register. "Bad hearing comes with age, huh?" mutters the teen under his breath. Happy makes a choking sound behind him. ___________________ Or, how Tony Stark gets sassed by some high schooler working part-time and makes it his mission to figure out what he did to make this kid he'd never seen hate him. If that means annoying the hell out of said high schooler, that's not his problem.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10

Chapter Summary: Rhodey and Tony finally leave, and Peter is left alone with his thoughts.

(Read on Ao3)

Peter's forehead leans against the door. Only after the engine of Mr. Stark's car howled and the tires started to roll did the teen dare push his fingers between the blinds and pull them aside to peek out of the window.

They are finally gone.

With a deep sigh, Peter raises a hand, ready to run it through his hair, only to stop when he realizes that it's still covered in paint.

If Aunt May knew about what he did, he would get sentenced to a week's worth of house chores. Including a deep clean of the bathroom.

"Not my most glorious moment."

After several minutes, with the help of half a bottle of dish liquid, an old sponge, and lots of hot water, Peters's hands were reddened but free of paint and smelled, according to the dishwashing label, of gentle citrus dreams, whatever that meant.

While drying his hand, the teen couldn't help thinking about his act of revenge. It was petty.

Peter feels ashamed to use his abilities for something so childish and silly. He is Spider-Man. He should be the one keeping people from vandalizing, and what did he do? Smearing one of the most important buildings in NYC, just because he let Mr. Stark provoke him.

"If I simply hadn't said anything. Why can't I keep my big mouth shut?"

The guilty conscience grew while he worked on a persistent sauce stain on one of the tables with his rag.

Mr. Stark mentioned his action costing Stark Industries millions. At the same time, Peter felt like the man didn't care about the money but rather about his image, and the flippancy with which the man talked about losing money sparks Peter's anger anew.

It's already dark outside by the time the teenager closes the shop. With his hoodie deep in his face and his head ducked, he quickly walks down the street. May won't be back until tomorrow morning, and if he hurried, he might manage to patrol for two hours before going to bed.

On his way through the city, he walks past a construction site. He halts, and his eyes wander along the scaffold that takes up the whole facade.

"A truck hit the front at full speed a few weeks ago."

Peter turns away from the destroyed building. A man leans against one of the street lights. He has his, several times patched coat tightly wrapped around his body, a bottle sitting comfortably in his hand. He tosses his head, taking a hearty sip before pointing at the building.

"One of the best shelters in the whole of New York. Never mind how busy you got treated like you meant something. They even let your furred friend in there if you had one. Now, we can only hope they rebuild it. To our luck, they put another cafe here."

"I heard about the incident," manages Peter to get out, voice hoarse.

"You're okay, boy?"

The homeless man squints his eyes at him, and something in Peter's stomach coils as the guilty conscience hits full force at the thought of a man without a roof over his head worrying about a random teenager.

A man who didn't have a roof over his head because Spider-Man hadn't been here.

"Yes, I mean, not really," stammers Peter before taking a deep breath, attempting to collect himself. The man eyes him with worry, partly curiosity, and takes another sip while waiting for the teen to finish his sentence.

"It's just that I knew someone. Someone who came here often."

Peter feels ashamed when he catches the man's eyes widening with realization. The man shortened the distance between them, stepping closer, and despite the strong sense of alcohol prickling in his nose, he knew he wasn't in any danger. A heavy hand lays on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about that, boy."

It's embarrassing how his eyes start burning. Peter had to look away from the empathy-filled, bearded face.

"I don't know who you knew from the bunch, but I know many people hanging around here, and most are decent. I'm sure whoever it was, he would appreciate a fine young man like you to remember him. Many people in this city don't recognize us as humans, but you are alright, boy."

The hand on his shoulder gives another tight but comforting squeeze while Peter uses the back of his hand to wipe over his eyes. He manages to whisper a small thank you.

The man didn't look happy with a crying teenager in front of him.

"You want some?"

Peter eyes the bottle with a high percentage of alcohol before his eyes fall back onto the worried eyes of the man. A small smile blooms on his face, and he has to chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. He sniffles and wipes at his other eye.

"No, thank you. But there's something else."

The man pulls the bottle back with a grin.

"I'm listening, boy. Spit it out."

Peter manages to give him a grateful smile.

"Would you tell me your name?"

The homeless man raises an eyebrow in disbelief before grinning.

"The name's Jason."

Jason holds out his hand. Without batting a lid, Peter takes the hand, including the filthy fingerless glove, shaking it tightly.

"I'm Peter."

[ladykailitha]

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 12

Hello! Sorry this is late, but I had to take this week super slow because I went and sprained my middle and ring fingers on my left hand tripping and falling into a wall. The hand is mostly better, but it still twinges a bit.

Edie is going through some things, Eddie gets lost, and Steve learns where Harri gets his name.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

***  

Steve got home and found Edie at the counter munching away at cereal.

“You do know cereal is breakfast food, yes?” he asked as he went to the fridge to pull out the stuff he’d need to make dinner.

“Cereal is a state of mind, Dad,” Edie said, grinning around a mouth full of milk and Frosted Flakes.

“You’re going to spoil your dinner,” Steve said with a glare.

Edie cocked one eyebrow at him and he sighed. “Yeah, all right. So how was school?”

“Algebra is still the bane of human existence,” she murmured. “I just don’t understand it. I can do the geography portion of the syllabus just fine. But when it comes to algebra, I just...” and then blew a raspberry.

Steve grimaced. “I’m sorry, honey. I’ve explained it, Uncle Dusty explained it a different way, and Aunt Robin an even more different way than that and if you’re not getting, I don’t know what to do.”

Edie sighed. “I talked to Mr Olsen and he’s just going to have me take geometry next year instead of forcing me through another year of hell.”

“Are you going to get enough math credits to graduate if you do that?” Steve asked.

Edie sighed. “Probably not, so summer school it is. Yay!” she said waving her hands sarcastically.

“We’ll get you through this,” he promised.

“I know,” she murmured. She looked over at the counter where Steve had put aside enough food for an army. “You skip lunch again?”

He rolled his eyes. “No. Half of this coming with me to the office because Callen, one of the techs’ mom is going through chemo and he forgets to bring lunch.”

Edie looked at the food on the counter and back up at him. “It’s not for you?”

Steve sighed. “No. You’re not going to get hung up on this again are you?”

She shook her head. “I just worry about you, you know.”

He sighed again. “I know you do, but you don’t have to worry about this. You remember what Dr Rushing said, right?”

Edie heaved out a sigh of her own. “I know. It was a one-time thing. It’s never happened before and it hasn’t happened since.”

“Good,” Steve said firmly. “Now help me chop these vegetables.”

She drank down her milk and put her bowl in the sink. She got out a knife and the chopping board and got to work.

“Anything exciting happen at work today?” she asked.

Steve’s spine stiffened and went completely still. “About that, honey. Has your mom tried to get into contact with you recently?”

Edie frowned. “I guess about a month ago. She wanted me to be a bridesmaid at her wedding. But I thought she was trying to trap me again, so I just ignored it, why?”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and told her about his afternoon. “So I’m calling the school and letting them know that she is in town and isn’t allowed anywhere near you, okay?”

“God, I swear that woman is like a bad penny,” Edie muttered. “She just keeps coming back.”

Steve nodded. “Violating the order is bad, and she will get in trouble for it. But she hasn’t tried to physically harm either of us, so I’m not sure what the police can even do.”

Edie nodded back. “I wish she would just go away. Because apparently not even finding another man to scam is enough to get her to forget about us.”

“Nothing warps the mind quite like greed,” Steve agreed. “I’ll talk to a lawyer about what more we can do about her, just to set both of our minds at ease. There must be something more we can do.”

*

Eddie was lost. He was sure Dustin told him to take the second elevator to sixth floor to meet up for lunch. But now he was starting wonder if Dustin had said the sixth elevator to the fourth floor.

Fuck.

And then he saw his savior in the form of a single glass name plate. He wrenched open the door and went up to the desk.

“Hey, so I was wondering if–” he began.

The woman at the desk cut him off by tapping her sign. Eddie’s eyes followed her finger and went, “Oh.”

He started signing instead. “My sincerest apologies, fair Vanessa! I should have been paying better attention. I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of Dustin Henderson’s office. I am meant to be having lunch with him, but I have sadly lost my way!”

Vanessa giggled and pressed a button on her desk. She signed back. “I could, but I’m pretty sure he’d take you if you wanted.”

Eddie frowned and signed back. “Who?”

She pointed behind him and he turned. There leaning against his now open door, was Steve. He had his arms crossed and was smiling fondly.

Eddie turned back to her and blushed. Vanessa raised an eyebrow.

“This idiot is on the wrong floor,” she signed to Steve. “Can you take him to Dustin? Tell him to stop letting his experiments run around the building unsupervised.”

Steve laughed. “Come on, Eddie. I’ll get you to where you need to go.”

Eddie signed “Asshole” to her before turning around and following Steve. Her laugh echoed down the hall.

“You have a mean receptionist,” he told Steve as the walked down the hall.

Steve grinned. “I know, isn’t she great? I love her.”

Eddie gulped and shoved his hands in his back pocket. “Didn’t know you were the kind to date the secretary, Harrington.”

Steve laughed. “If I tried that, her husband Nick would make sure my next hearing aid exploded.”

The knot that had formed in Eddie’s chest loosened. “I didn’t see a ring when we were signing, so I wondered.”

Steve nodded. “That’s fair. But he can’t wear one doing his work, so she told him that she wasn’t going to wear one either.”

“Is he deaf, too?” Eddie asked. He knew from Dustin that the company liked to hire hard of hearing and deaf individuals.

Steve shook his head. “One of my best interpreters, though. They came as a packaged deal. I can’t live without Vanessa and Dustin trusts Nick implicitly, I do too.”

Eddie smiled. “It seems like you two have made quite the company here.”

“It absolutely was a team effort,” Steve replied. “Dustin could MacGuiver that shit from his mom’s basement, but he couldn’t get people to listen to him about the technologies.”

“Whereas you could smooth talk a snake out of its skin?” he said, ducking his head and looking up at Steve slyly.

Steve laughed. “Something like that. So it worked to both of our strengths.”

He stopped at a door and then opened it. “Hey, Dusty! Look what I found wondering the halls like a lost puppy.”

Dustin’s head shot up. “There you are! Why didn’t you just message me on your phone, dumbass?”

Eddie flushed in embarrassment. “I thought I could figure it out. But this place is huge.”

Steve laughed. “Well Bo-peep, now that I’ve found your sheep, I’ve got to get back to work.” He jerked his thumb behind him. “Also Vanessa says to keep a tighter leash on your experiments.” He winked at Eddie who protested loudly.

“Hey,” Dustin said, glancing at Eddie quickly, “if you wanted you could come with us to lunch.”

Steve paused at the door and looked to Eddie. “If you don’t mind...”

Eddie shook his head. “You are more than welcome, Stevie.”

Steve felt that familiar swoop in his stomach at the old nickname. “Then sure. Where were you guys thinking of going?”

“Sushi!” Dustin said proudly.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’ll pass thanks.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Not a fan of raw fish, sweetheart?”

Steve’s stomach swooped again and he really needed Eddie to stop with the nicknames and endearments otherwise Steve wasn’t going to have much of a stomach left after a single lunch the way his stomach kept hollowing out.

Steve shrugged. “I’ve tried all kinds, including the cooked kind and it’s just not my thing. You two have fun though.”

Eddie may have panicked a bit because he blurted. “We could change the restaurant.”

Steve smiled sweetly. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your fun. I’ll just pick something more my flavor on Monday.” He waved goodbye and they waved back.

As the door was closing Steve could hear Dustin ask Eddie, “What happens on Monday?”

*

Steve was in his office when there was a knock on his door. He had taken out his contacts and pulled out his glasses, the beginning of a migraine floating just beyond the horizon.

He had been chugging water and had long since downed pain killers to stave it off. But he could still feel the pressure building behind his eyes.

When the knock came he looked up to see Eddie standing at the door with a take away box and smile.

“I come bearing gifts of the apology variety,” he said holding up the bag.

Steve’s shoulders sagged. “You didn’t have to do that. I would have grabbed a candy bar or something later.”

Eddie grinned. “It was Dustin’s idea, I am merely the messenger.”

“Why is everyone fussing about my eating?” Steve sighed.

“He said you tend to overwork and forget to eat.” Eddie raised an eyebrow.

Steve shoulders slumped. “He’s right. Sorry. It’s just that Edie’s been going on about my eating habits lately and it’s set me on edge.”

Eddie walked into the room and set his prize down on the table, sliding it over to him. “They got a reason to worry?”

Steve pulled the styrofoam box out of the bag and hummed happily when the scent of sesame chicken hit his nose. He pulled out the chop sticks and dug in, suddenly ravenous.

After a moment or two of stuffing his face, he shook his head. “Not really. Which is why it’s weird, it’s come out of nowhere.”

“You been eating less lately?” Eddie asked, leaning forward on the desk, having pulled up a chair up close.

Steve cocked his head as he thought about it. “I mean not really. Like yeah, sometimes I’ll work through lunch, but I always make sure to grab something later. It’s not disordered eating or whatever they’re calling it these days.”

Eddie nodded. “Anything that’s happened recently that maybe put her on edge and had her latch on to your eating habits?”

Steve scoffed around a bite of chicken. “You mean other than this really great guy I used to be friends with suddenly coming back into my life via his seventeen year old rockstar in the making?”

Eddie grinned. “Other than that, yeah.”

Again Steve gave his question the weight it deserved before shaking his head. “Nothing I can think of.”

Eddie threw himself back against the chair with a heavy sigh. “You got me then man. I don’t know.”

Steve smiled. “At least you tried.”

“Speaking of my rockstar in training, how’s your rockstar in training?” Eddie asked.

“Other than the fixating on my eating?” Steve asked. “She’s fine. Her mom tried to fuck with us again. Sent her packing via cops and lawyers. Hopefully she’ll stay away this time.”

Eddie winced. “Look, I love the name Edie. It’s beautiful, but who the hell names their daughter Edith anymore?”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “I know, right? I fought hard for Lilian. Or even just Lily. But no...it had to be Edith. I think it was a family name or some such bullshit.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “God, I think that honestly makes it worse.”

“Hence Edie,” Steve agreed. “So how did you and your husband come up with Harri. Edie said it’s spelled uniquely. With an ‘I’ instead of a ‘Y’?”

Eddie huffed and rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Steve tilted his head to the side. “I think Dusty or Nancy said it was after some prince or something.”

Eddie shook his head and ran his tongue over his teeth. “Yeah no. That’s official story. Prince Harry was born to the Prince and Princess of Wales two full years before Harri was even conceived. And when people started guessing that with Jay being English, we just didn’t bother to correct them.”

He grabbed the plaque that had Steve’s name on it and turned it around, covering the last five letters of his last name. It now read STEVEN HARRI.

It took Steve a moment before his eyes went wide. “And Jay was okay with that?”

Eddie shrugged. “It wasn’t Steven or Stephen with a ‘PH’. And I didn’t know your middle name.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” Eddie asked. “Why is my son named after a guy who’s name I’ve never spoken aloud in twenty years?”

Steve pursed his lips together and then licked them. “Yeah, man. That.”

“Jay wanted to name him after the man that save my life,” Eddie said softly. “But I was still mad at you about missing Brian’s funeral. Which I now know was because you thought Edie was being born, even if she waited a whole other week to finally make it.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I couldn’t make something up. Not with it in newspapers who the Hawkins hero was. So we used Harri.”

Steve finished his food and threw it away. He wiped off his hands. “Anyone ever guess the real meaning behind the name?”

Eddie shook his head. “Maybe Jeff. But no, everyone else thinks we were British snobs.”

“Well, I’m honored,” Steve said. “Not just because you think I’m a hero, but because Harri’s a good kid. I’m guessing he doesn’t know.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’ve got a letter from Jay that he’s going to get on his twenty-first birthday that will explain it. The surrogacy, his birth, his name. All of it. I wanted to tell Harri sooner, but Jay made me promise.”

Steve nodded. “He’ll probably still be angry. But at least a twenty-one, hopefully he’ll be be mature enough to understand why.”

Eddie slapped the desk with his palm. “That’s the hope.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go. Harri’s got a dentist appointment. See you on Monday?”

Steve grinned. “Yeah. See you on Monday.”

***

Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16 Part 17  Part 18  Epilogue

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[gx-gameon]

Okay but Aknamkanon being involved in Jaden’s school life sounds hilarious.

I am picturing Jaden setting up a small shrine for his grandpa and the others in the Field of Reeds in the Slifer Duel Arena/Dojo (later moving it to the lounge area Chazz builds). He talks to it when he feels like he needs to talk out a problem he feels is too awkward to ask his parents or living family members. Others start doing it too because of homesickness or not having a good relationship with their parents.

Aknamkanon wants to show support to Jaden and his friends but he isn’t in the position to give out old people candy. Instead, he sends cards.

Alexis: Check these out!

Zane: Alexis, what are those?

Alexis: They are called Dryton. It’s a Ritual based archetype that came with some good support! Jaden’s grandfather gave them to me!

Zane: Jaden’s dead grandfather gave you an entire deck of ritual monsters plus support because you talked to his memorial?

Alexis: I’m keeping them. Even if I can’t find a way to use half of them, I’m keeping them.

I do love this, I don’t think it’s cannon but I do love this.

Jaden having to explain who the shrine is to without saying. “My grandfather who is also an ancient pharaoh.”

I know I joked about him having powers but I don’t think Aknamkanon would have any big influence. But sending cards is amazing. He’s putting that spiritual court to work!! Getting them to find duel spirit archetypes and being like “so theirs a kid I think you would work really well with.”

I also love that Jaden just goes and tells his grandfather all of his problems. He probably grew up going to Solomon whenever he didn’t want to go to his dads or uncles/aunts but now being away at duel academy he doesn’t want to call Solomon and start a whole hullabaloo. So he talks to the grandfather who can’t gossip with the rest of the family.

Little monster spirits always find there way to Jaden after one of those talks. Just little cuddly guys that aren’t great in a duel but great for cuddling in the dream scape.

Jaden’s friends see Jaden talking to his grandfather and just assume they were really close and Jaden always talks about how nice it is to just get things done off his chest and talk to someone he knows is listening.

And one day Syrus is really stressed about a test and he’s pacing the room and then he spots the shrine. What harm could it do. He ends up talking to the shrine and then having a full break down about all of his fears and insecurities to Jaden’s dead grandfather. Jaden’s right it is nice to just let it all out. But he doesn’t think anyone is listening until a new Roid car appears. One with the exact ability he needs to pass his practical exam. He hadn’t told anyone about needing this except the shrine.

He tells everyone. ‘Jaden’s grandfather was listening and he sent me this card’

Slowly other members of the group start to talk to Aknamkanon. It’s starts as superstition and prayers for exams but then Chazz finally talks to him and tells him all about his brothers who are being real big jerks right now. He just lets it all out. Everything he doesn’t want to tell his friends. He wakes up the next morning to a brand new deck with a new archetype. Is this what having a grandfather is like????

Yes what you wrote about Alexis absolutely happened. ‘Look at my new cards Zane!!!’ Zane thinks they are all crazy but a chance for new cards isn’t one he’s going to pass up.

It’s tradition by the time the second year rolls around. If you just need to vent and feel like a family member cares you go to sit at Jaden’s Grandfather’s shrine.

Aknamkanon loves it. He has so many new grandchildren. Of course Jaden is the favorite. He is the unmovable first place. But his friends definitely get spiritually adopted

[hornsbeforehalos]

Anytime, Sweetheart (Remastered)- Part Two

Pairing: JDM x OFC (RPF)SERIES WARNINGS: (not specific to each chapter): violence, implied sexual assault, drug use, drinking, smut, murder, cursing, age-gap relationships, power dynamics, angst, slight slow burn, cheating... will update warnings as needed. AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is a rewrite! I originally wrote this, which can still be found in my master list, years and years ago and finally have decided to spruce it up a bit. This will be in third person POV and updated to be less... cringy as the original. As of right now there are only two chapters rewritten but if anyone shows interest, I will continue :) Please let me know if you would like to be tagged. I haven't written anything serious in years so this is me dipping my toes back in :) Face credit for OC is Taylor Momsen :) Tag List: @coffee-obsessed-writer@kazosa@lovealways-j@lovetusk@sorenmarie87

The next morning, Kylin was woken up by her screaming niece jumping on top of her over and over again as she laid on the couch.

“Birdie, why do you hate me?” She groaned as she pulled the little girl into her chest for a hug. 

“Auntie KyKy! Wake up!” Justice squealed. Her loud, shrill, voice made Kylin wince, her hangover in full effect.

“Shh, child, let’s go back to sleep” Kylin replied as she squeezed her close. She buried her face into the tiny terror’s hair while the girl continued to protest against her. 

“You stink!” Justice yelled, scrunching her nose as she pushed away from her aunt. 

“No, you stink!” Kylin countered as she rolled onto her side, her back against the couch cushions. 

“Nuh-uh!” The little girl insisted.

“Yuh uh!” Kylin answered before she shoved the child off the couch. The girl landed with an “oof,’ followed by a shrill giggle that made Kylin wince once more. 

“Go find your mother, spawn,” Kylin instructed as she threw her legs over the side of the couch to stand up. 

She made her way towards the bathroom with one hand pressed against the back of her head and the other against the bridge of her nose to suppress the throbbing that had been induced by her wonderful niece. She could feel the oil seeping from her pores, and when she brought her hand from her face to rub her eyes in her sleepy stupor, she felt the black smudge that had at one point been her eyeliner smear across her face. 

“Well, good morning to you, sleeping beauty,” Came a gruff voice as the door to the bathroom opened before Kylin could reach for the knob.

Standing before her, in nothing but a very low-slung cotton towel, was Jeffrey.

“Holy shit,” She managed to mumble in surprise, her brain half fried from not only her hangover, but the unexpected view. 

“Sorry, love,” Jeffrey chuckled as he moved around her, his fist gripped tight to keep the fabric around his waist together.

“Uh, no worries,” Kylin responded, entering the bathroom. Jeffrey made his way towards the guest room, and Kylin couldn’t help the way her eyes followed him down the hall. 

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

The shower was life changing. All the sweat, dirty, grime, even her headache, was washed away. While she dried herself off with a big, fluffy towel, she realized she had forgotten her backpack containing all of her clothes. She wrapped the towel around her body and opened the door to go look for it. 

She turned the corner and almost ran smack dab into Jeffrey’s chest. (Which was now covered by a worn out Harley Davidson tee.)

“Oh fuck, s-s-sorry,” She gasped. Embarrassment flooded through her as she looked up at him. He wore a smirk on his lips, and he gripped her by the shoulders to steady her. 

“A-hem” Was suddenly heard from behind Jeff, and Kylin peaked her head around his frame to see Jensen standing in the hallway with her backpack lifted up in the air by his index finger, “Looking for this?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks, Bubs,” Kylin answered, her blush growing deeper as she stepped around Jeffrey to grab the backpack from Jensen. 

She ducked into the nearest empty guest room, and Jensen followed her.

“What’s that on your neck, Ky?” Her brother asked. He ducked his head and gestured towards her neck.

Her hand automatically went to her throat and pressed against the newly formed bruise from the day before.

“Oh, uh, I had on a necklace yesterday that was, like, super tight, and I accidentally ripped it off, and uh.. Yeah…” She trailed off before turning her back to him to rummage through her stuff. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, as well as a bra and underwear.

 “Um, a little privacy here, big bro?” She laughed nervously, looking over her shoulder toward him before going back to her clothes on the bed. 

“Hmm, yeah, whatever.” Jensen replied, suspicion laced in his tone. She heard him set out a deep sigh before his footsteps retreated from the room.

A few minutes later, as she pulled her shirt over her head, Robbie’s concerned voice came from the door way, “Jesus Christ, Ky, What the fuck?”

She spun around and quickly pulled down her shirt, just in time to see Jeffrey walk past Rob in the hallway with an unreadable look on his face. He quickly averted his gaze from their direction, and increased his pace to his room. Kylin stepped over to Rob and jerked him into the room before she slammed the door closed. 

“Fuck, Robbie, what the hell?” Kylin growled in annoyance.

“What the hell is this?!” He asked in reply. He turned her around, and pulled on the hem of her shirt to reveal the bruises scattered across her ribs and back. His other hand gently trailed over the yellow and greenish marks, “He did this?”

She pulled away from him and scowled as she faced him, her arms wrapping around her body for comfort. 

“God damnit, Kylin.” He whispered angrily. He lifted her chin up with his fingertips to examine the darkening mark Jensen had mentioned earlier. She turned her head to the left as his fingers ghosted over her skin, her eyes trained away from him as tears began to form. 

“Shut up,” was the only thing she was able to choke out before she crumbled into Rob’s arms. He picked her up and carried her to the bed and held her as she cried for half an hour. 

The safe feeling of being in Rob’s embrace calmed her, and she wiped her eyes after the last tears had finally fallen. “Promise me you won’t let this happen again. Please.” Robbie begged, his voice cracking as he restrained tears of his own. 

“Promise.” She sniffled. 

He looked her in the eyes again for a moment and let a tear run down his face before he nodded and brought her head back to his chest. They laid like that or a little bit longer while they both steadied themselves. 

“Better?” He asked after a while, patting her on the back as he pulled away.

“Better.” She answered with a nod, using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her nose again.

Rob stood and pulled her up by the hand. He linked their fingers together and led them towards the door. She followed him to the dining room, where it seemed everyone had already gathered as the morning routine of breakfast preparations had begun.

The moment she sat down at the kitchen island, Justice led the Padalecki boys on an assault against Kylin’s legs, equipped with foam swords. 

“KyKy, will you make us pancakes?” Thomas asked while giving her a set of puppy dog eyes that rivaled his father’s. The other two children soon followed suit with the same stare, knowing she couldn’t deny them anything. 

Kylin let out a huff of exasperation and hopped down from the stool she had been perched on to make her way past Dani and Gen to the pantry. She ignored their snickers at how easily she was broken down by the tiny demons. 

“Need any help there, darlin’?” A rough drawl came from behind her as she was mixing in chocolate chips into the pancake batter.

Jeffrey stepped up beside her at the counter and peered into the bowl while licking his lips. 

“No, sir,” Kylin replied cockily while she continued to stir, “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it's this. I can make these bitches in my sleep.” 

She moved from her place beside him to the island where the stove was to check the temperature of the oil in the pan. When she turned back around, Jeffrey was standing there with his finger in his mouth, batter dripping down the length of it. 

“Mmm-mmm-mmm-” He said, furrowing his brows and shaking his head back and forth in pleasure. 

She couldn’t help that her breath hitched, or the bright red shade that flushed her skin at the sight. 

“Hey, Jeff, I think your car’s here.” Jensen grunted as he entered the room, an annoyed look on his face as he glared at Kylin. 

Jeffrey pulled his finger from his mouth as he pushed himself off the counter with a roll of his eyes. 

“Alright,” He chuckled as he wiped his finger on a dish towel before he grabbed his jacket from the back of the nearby chair and shrugged it on.

“See you all later,” He waved to everyone, but gave Kylin a wink when their eyes met. He showed his teeth in a sweet smile before he headed towards the door.

With a sigh, Kylin turned her attention back to the pancakes.

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

The day went on, spent by playing with the kids and lounging on the couch with the girls. Kylin had received the phone call that she had been wanting from her dad- he had been able to sneak into the apartment while Anthony was gone and had gathered up as much of her stuff as he could. He was about as oblivious to the situation as Jensen was, but he also had his suspicions as well.

Jared and Jensen had been sent to the grocery store with the kids, the adventure deemed “Mission Impossible” by the boys, so when the doorbell rang as Kylin was laying on the couch, she automatically assumed it was just them needing help getting stuff out of the truck.

As soon as the front door opened though, she realized how wrong she had been.

Anthony’s fist came colliding with her face, the force knocking her back. He flung the door the rest of the way open and staked the four feet into the house to the entrance of the hallway. He grabbed a fist full of Kylin’s hair and pulled her up to knee her in the ribs.

“Stupid” punch “Fucking” knee. “Bitch.” slap.

Kylin tried her hardest to push him away and fight back, but the man was over twice her size. She screamed as loud as she could, knowing someone had to have heard the commotion.

Suddenly, the very distinct sound of a gun being cocked was heard above her, and they both looked up to see Danneel holding her pistol at the ready, aimed directly at Anthony’s head.

“Get out of my house.” Danneel seethed, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

It was a big enough distraction, thankfully, for Rob and Richard to rush him and get him to the ground. Neither of the two men stopped there, though. 

Rich held Anthony by the throat as Rob clobbered his face repeatedly with his fists. It wasn’t until Jared and Jensen busted into the hallway and pulled everyone apart that the chaos finally subsided.

“Oh look, it’s Hollywood, here to save the day.” Anthony spat the blood that had pooled into his mouth onto Jared’s shirt as he was hoisted to his feet. 

Rob and Rich rushed to Kylin, and Rob picked her up as Rich protectively positioned himself in front of them. Kylin held onto Rob for dear life as sobs wracked through her battered body.

“You will never, ever put your fucking hands on her again.” Gen raged. She walked up to the man and gave him another slap to the face of her own. 

“I’m sorry, you did what?” Jensen took the gun out of Danneel’s hand and pushed her and Gen behind him. “I know I didn’t hear that right.” 

“Fuck you. Not your fucking business what I do with my woman.” Anthony responded, spitting more blood. 

Jensen brought the barrel of the pistol to rest on Anthony’s temple. Everyone held their breath.

“Jensen, stop.” Kylin managed to squeak, “I’m not worth it.”

Her brother turned his head towards her in disbelief. He moved past Rich to grab her face in his hands and turn her head to look at him before he spoke, “Don’t ever say that again. You are worth so much more than this.” He kissed her hair before he turned back around and resumed his aim on Anthony. 

“You are so fucking lucky we don’t do cops, you know that?” Jensen snarked. He craned his head in order to be able to look Anthony in the eyes, “Well, for right now anyway.” 

Jensen took a step back before he flicked the gun’s safety on and held it out for Danneel to take. He grabbed Anthony out of Jared’s grasp and pulled him towards the front door, “You will get the fuck out of my house and away from my family. You will not go anywhere near them, or you will find out how much my sister means to me and how little your life does.” 

In one adrenaline-fueled heave, Anthony was sent flying out of the front door. Jensen and Jared stormed after him and proceeded to kick the ever-living shit out of him until he was back in his car. He fell into the driver’s seat, a bloody mess, before speeding off. 

The boys rushed back inside and Jensen scooped Kylin from Rob’s arms in a huff. He soothed her crying and kissed the top of her head as he carried her to the guest room with her stuff. He laid her down on the bed before climbing in with her and wrapping her up in his arms. 

“I’m so sorry, bubbah” She sobbed.

“No, no sissy. I should be apologizing. I knew. I fuciing knew and I didn’t do anything about it. I should have beat his ass the first time you came down here. I’m so fucking sorry. Everyone’s gonna fucking kill me.” He breathed through his own tears into her hair. He rocked them both back and forth. 

They laid there for a while and cried together. He did his best to comfort her while his own guilt tried to eat him up inside. Kylin let him know she wanted to be alone, so he decided it was probably smart to check on everyone and let them know she was okay for now. 

It took hours, but Kylin finally succumbed to the trauma and exhaustion, and fell asleep. 

[firespirited]

everywhere but here, I am the mom.

not the 'mom friend', not fun aunt or godmother, the big sister type you go to when you're at the end of your tether and you need a mom to clean up something nasty, kill a spider, unload on someone who can handle it and not make it about them, help you pull the trigger on a hard decision you've already taken but haven't accepted. I make things happen, I connect people, I do mediation and emotional prep; I tell people their full options and help them weigh it all up. You were pondering it for a while but you left here with a lawyer's appointment and a loan we both know is a 'pay it forward' gift. I carry the secrets and the bad memories so it makes sense you move on without me when all's well. The big sister thing means I feel like family and shelter but not really like an everyday friend

Here, I get to be Saffy, bit of a klutz, silly brained with a childlike wonder for creatures and well-designed things who can talk about fear of crowds, slowly healing the relationship with my own mum, I watch horror and post about my dog. That's who I want to be, a large facet of who I am internally buuut life rarely fits the idea we have of ourselves does it?

Part of repairing the imbalanced relationship with mum was letting her do some protective mothering so i can fill the desperate ache to have one person in the world who has my back, while making my support of her more streamlined and unspoken. You know the concept of the toilet paper fairy who makes loo roll appear and always knows when to buy more, that but for groceries, electronics and paperwork, and big decisions we carry together but it has to be very businesslike and unemotional: she's as much a big sweetheart as she is fiercely independent (and ashamed/angry her daughter had to carry half the load). So now she's the one who notices or who I go to when the world has asked me to be The Mom again.

I imagine it's a lot like gay penguins: there's an ecological vacuum of big sister-mom types and some of us just have the vibes.

This winter I've done a metric ton of non-judgmental, non-condescending temporary 'parenting' of women with parents who are gone or who can't handle it and friends who aren't friends-for-that-kinda-thing. I'm really good at it, at weathering a storm for someone and being an anchor. It doesn't hurt any more because mum can be an emotional mum to me.

but I'm never sure how to talk about it here between dolls and shitposts and if i'm not specific... I mean... "chronically ill/special needs person currently or previously in abusive relationship with parent/partner who takes a while to realize and accept abuse isn't just fists but sleep depravation and symptom minimization and all sorts of tiny things that add up to life-threatening injury to the body and mind" applies to many of us dollblr folks as it does like 80% of my social circle offline.

and there's no way of saying that being around some folks is like experiencing a slow motion train wreck without sounding like an asshole.

I am that asshole.

I am goatsed out and want to be a hermit.

Did I tell you guys my doctor vented for 45 minutes about having to put her "dumbass hysterical" sister (deaf and never put in school) into care and the paperwork involved in getting disability (the thing that took me 14 years and she got her sister's transferred in 3 weeks). and I truly empathize but that wasn't very professional and your sister is a person. please.

and I can't cut M out of my life now that her kid is, as predicted, like her (and the facebook-chosen not-yet-divorced deadbeat-dad of 3 special needs kids), an adorable barely verbal two-year-old. She won't be able to navigate special needs care alone but she's still staunchly anti-vax and had a diatribe of ableism mixed with mystical pseudoscience for me, interspersed with thanks for being more family to her than her sister in helping her know how to leave a bad relationship. hokay not making this easy.

S is going to be on the hook for tax evasion if she stays with the shady useless guy she's been babying (and resenting) for 20 years solely because she doesn't like to do activities alone. three times now I've been cornered for the vent sesh. I am sitting on the floor the next time, I need blood in my brain to emote properly. and that unneutered bulldog living in the south is a crime, it can't breathe it can't think, it's all hormones and anxiety covered in fur, of course it's a nuisance around the house.

and there's more but i'm tired of typing and thinking.

[lockandkeyhyena]

PLETHORA OF PETS UPON YOU

Blue the dumbest Border Collie you'll ever meet. Would not survive a horror film unless it was an accident. Nickname Bluebear. He CAN be smart he just chooses not to be.

Bailey, newfie no. 2. Has a labrador's stomach and logically should probably be dead with the things she has stolen off the counter. Resting sad face and uses it to her full advantage but she is a rescue so she gets a pass for not knowing how to be a Dog for half her life. Twice bear's size and only three. Her nickname has literally just become Big Dog. Drools.

Bear, was newfie no. 1 and made it to thirteen. Nickname was carebear. Think Shadow from Homeward Bound. Didn't drool.

Owl. Bit weird. Plays fetch with the little mouse toys you can get. Best boy. Nickname is actually Stumpy. Loved his mama who I unfortunately do not have anymore but it was best for her at the time and she found a very good forever home (she plays piano now!) Originally Lia, then permanently became Mia. She and chewy got cat divorced and she was a flourishing single mom.

Chewy. Owl's deadbeat dad. Loudest, strangest purr I have ever heard. Likes to lay on your lap once he trusts you and stabs you with his claws.

Harley. Harley-Barley. Harls. Bitch. This is Owl's bitchy wine aunt. I have scars on my arms from this cat. Will play with paper rolled into a ball only and every few seconds she will stop and groom herself when she realizes what she is doing. Actually loves the dogs though. Stares at you and sucks up to you until you give her tuna. Half the time too much of a diva to jump up onto the table to get her food so I have to lift her and hope she's in the right mood to be picked up.

I LOVE THEM ALL DEARLY!! thank u for sharing!!

[pearlyscrolls]

Sunrise

Ominis Gaunt X Reader

After the events of the scriptorium Ominis comforts MC

It feels like I have not written anything in forever. It was nice to get something out. I hope you all enjoy

The edges of the sky hinted at sunrise, the wisps of orange and pink just trickling over the horizon.  Y/N wiped her eyes.  

It had been a long night. She had sworn to Ominis and Sebastian that she was fine after everything in the scriptorium, but she had not been able to sleep. Her entire body ached. It should no longer hurt but the fear of pain seemed to circle her body, tensing her muscles making it hard to breath. She had tried, lying in her bed, hoping her roommates were deep enough sleepers that her muffled crying would not wake them. She had given up on rest. Grabbing her journal she had gone to walk the grounds, hoping movement and fresh air would clear her mind. She found herself sitting with her back against a tree watching the sky change color, a half done drawing and some notes in her journal, waiting for  this last round of shaking to stop. 

“Y/N” his voice  was soft, his scent, a mix of hair gel and soap and something she could not name seemed to drift around him as he sat next to her .  

“What are you doing here Ominis?”  her voice shook 

“Well, I couldn’t sleep, so I got up for a walk” 

“Same” she took a deep breath trying even harder then before to calm herself, the last thing she wanted was Ominis seeing her like this

“I am glad i ran into you, I knew you weren’t being completely honest when you said you were ok.” he reached out taking her cold hand in his, using his long fingers to massage warmth into her palm, uncurling each finger.  :”that feeling in the pit of stomach,the rolling nauseous tightness,  like any second all the pain is going to come back, it goes away, eventually” 

She looked down at his hands, massaging her own “we shouldn't have asked you to take us down there, I am so sorry Ominis, I can not image what it was like for you” 

“Don’t worry about me. This is not a new pain, and I knew with Sebastain pushing for it, I would probably fold eventually, he is very stubborn especially when it comes to Ann,. And I  did get some answers about my aunt”  He had taken her other hand, and was doing the same, working gently down her wrist. 

“She deserved better” 

Ominis just nodded 

They sat for a bit, the sun slowly lighting the sky. Ominis continued to move back and forth on her hands, moving up her wrist and forearms. Her heart raced at his touch. He was so gentle When she would start to shake and tense back up he would just whisper “it’s alright, just breath. It will all pass” 

 “Ominis, I have a question?” 

He lifted his head from their hands, ”go ahead” 

“You said that you can only cast the curse if you mean it, does that mean Sebastioan in some way wanted to hurt me?” 

He was quiet for a moment, a slight flexing in his jaw “No, I don’t think that’s it. I think he had to. I wasn’t going to, and you said you wouldn't. I think wanting to get us out, wanting to find answers for Ann, is enough of a motivation” 

“Well” she smiled as she leaned back, “you know what that means about you.” 

“Don’t turn my own words back on me” 

She squeezed his hand “ok, I won’t, today” 

She thought she saw a slight blush on his cheeks “actually he seemed rather torn up once we got back to our common room. Not only do I think he does not want to hurt you, I think he rather likes you” 

“Likes me? Oh” 

“Do you not feel the same, you know what you don’t have to answer. It is not my business” 

She was sure he was a red as she was 

“No, I do care for Sebastian, as a friend, I just wouldn’t want to hurt him. I have so much going on, and honestly” she let her eyes linger on Ominis. “There is someone else I like. Not that it matters,  they probably don’t feel the same” 

“Ok” he pulled a hand back rubbing the back of his neck, the rising sun was in full glory now washing the world in golds and pinks, and Ominis looked utterly perfect.. “I could be wrong” 

She felt her face flush, and hoped Ominis couldn't feel her pulse racing in her wrist on the hand he now just held . 

“We should probably get breakfast, and I need to clean up before I meet Poppy  in Hogsmeade, don’t want to go looking a mess” 

Their hands stayed linked, as he stood and helped her up. “And thank you Ominis. I don’t think I would have recovered as quickly if you weren't here.” 

“Of course, and next time, you don’t have to pretend to be ok to make us feel better” 

“I can assure you, I am not letting Sebastion do that to me again” 

“That is not what I meant, just you have friends and we care, you can tell us when you need help” 

He had continued to hold her hand as they walked,

“I’m not good at admitting I need help, I don’t like to burden others” 

She looked over at him as he shook his head, a soft smile “I will just have to get really good at noticing when you need it then.”  

[thatseventiesbitch]

I love your stories so much. I know it’s not on your prompts list but i had a idea for a story after i was watching T7S.

Eric and Donna catch Leia smoking similar to how Red caught Eric.

Thank so much, anon! I'll give it a shot. Prompt Ask Game

June, 1996

"Alright," Eric said to his wife. They stood in the Forman living room, luggage at their feet, having finished up their half an hour long 'midwestern goodbye' with his parents and Fez. "We better get going. The airport's forty minutes away."

Donna nodded. She straightened the strap on her messenger bag. "I'm ready when you are." She gave him a knowing look.

Eric sighed. "I guess it's time to say goodbye to Leia." He glanced around the room, frowning. "Hey. Where is she?"

Fez wiggled his finger in the direction of the basement. "I saw them all slide that way about twenty minutes ago."

"Unbelievable," Eric rolled his eyes, annoyed. "We're going away to Europe for the entire summer, and she can't even say goodbye?" He looked at Donna for confirmation of his annoyance, but she just set a hand on his arm and started guiding him towards the basement steps. "Can you believe that kid?"

"Eric, it's fine - "

"You always say that - "

But they were both taken by surprise when they reached the landing of the steps.

Leia and her new friends sat in a familiar configuration around the old spool coffee table. Too familiar.

A smoky haze lay over the room, and the smell was undeniable. Unmistakeable. It hit Eric's nose the second he reached the bottom step.

"WHAT are you doing?!" he exploded, his hands flying outwards in distress.

Leia's mouth fell open in shock, and she dropped whatever she was holding. One of her friends reached over and smothered the spark, while another one dumbly laughed, "Busted."

"Okay, Ms. 'Cool, Laid Back Parent'," Eric whipped around to glare at Donna. He gestured to their daughter. "How about this, hmm? Is this 'fine'?"

"No," Donna shook her head. She stepped forward, even with Eric, and crossed her arms. "Leia, what are you doing?" Her voice had dropped to a disappointed tone. "You're fifteen."

But Leia was ready and on the offensive, now. "Whatever, Mom. This was your stash. Dad's. We found it in the Candyland box," she jutted her chin towards the evidence, which was still open on the coffee table.

Eric and Donna shared an uneasy glance.

"That's impossible," Eric started to chuckle nervously. "I - clearly, I was framed. I mean, your aunt Laurie - "

"Eric - " Donna cut him off. "We're not gonna lie to her."

"Why not?" He lowered his voice to a hiss.

"Because we don't want her to lie to us," Donna raised an eyebrow. She glanced back and forth between her husband and daughter. "Right?"

Eric sighed. His shoulders slumped, like he knew he was defeated.

Donna crossed over to where Leia sat. She braced her hands against her shoulders and said, lovingly but firmly, "Leia, your dad and I don't want you to make adult choices before you're ready."

Leia opened her mouth to protest, but Donna continued.

"We want you to make better choices than we did, okay? Because we know what the consequences can be, and you don't. You're still just a kid." She sensed that she was getting through to the often-moody, unreachable teenager, and she grinned at her. "I mean - c'mon." Donna gestured between herself and Eric. "Look at us. Do you really want to end up like us?"

"The horror," her little Asian friend shuddered. Eric glared at him.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Leia said, her big hazel eyes full of remorse now. She glanced around Donna at Eric, who was still visibly mad. Leia widened her eyes at him, and adjusted her expression into an innocent pout. "Daddy." Eric didn't say anything, but his tense posture started to relax. Leia frowned. "Are you still gonna let me stay here for the summer?"

Donna chuckled, and patted her hands. "You kinda lucked out there, kiddo. Cause my book tour starts in," she glanced at her wristwatch. "Eight hours." She reached down to hug her daughter, and then turned back towards the stairs. "We have to go. But we trust you to make the right choices, okay?"

But Eric stood glued to the spot.

"No we don't!" he insisted, flummoxed. Donna and Leia both sighed.

"I'm gonna go tell Red to install a smoke detector right now," Donna said, her foot on the bottom step.

"That's a start," Eric exhaled. He glanced at Leia's friends wearily. "And I want a muzzle on the Kelso."

"Have a fun summer, honey," Donna winked, and met her daughter's eyes over the railing.

"Donna!"

[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Sister-Ghosts

"There's no such things as ghosts YN"

Isaiah, your best friend sighs taking a long drag from his cigarette

"But Is, I hear things at night, sometimes in the day when I'm alone too"

"You'll get locked up talking like that"

"Is, I'm being serious!" you practically yell at Isaiah "Tom said gran was a medium, could talk to spirits, Aunt Poll has a gift when it comes to babies and I'm hearing shit, what if I..."

"Ok YN, you are my best friend and I believe you every time you tell me something, but there's no such thing as ghosts. Now sit down and drink your drink" he nods towards the half full glass on the table. You sigh sitting down and taking a sip of your drink

"John used to tell me this story about a woman who lived in our house before us. She died because her husband murdered her and now she haunts the place. I swear I've heard her"

"It's just a story your brother told you to scare you and now it's worked"

"Who said I'm scared? You know what stay the night at the betting shop alone and then tell me ghosts aren't real"

"Fine" Isaiah groans.

"Blankets, water, food and a pillow" I show Isaiah the makeshift bed I have made for him "I'll be upstairs in my room if you need me to comfort you"

"Yeah yeah off you go YN I'll be fine" Isaiah tells me. I hold my hands in the air and walk out. I head upstairs and see Tommys light on, I knock it before walking in

"Hey Tom Is is staying over in the betting shop because he doesn't believe me that it's haunted"

"He's in for a long night" Tom chuckles. Out of all of my siblings he's the only one to believe me "goodnight YN"

"Night Tom" I close his door behind me and then into my room. I get changed and get into my bed.

I'm woken up in the middle of the night to being shuck

"YN, YN"

"What?" I reply to Isaiah annoyed

"You were right, there's a bloody ghost downstairs"

"Really? oh cool" I roll over so I'm not facing him

"I saw it YN, a woman. The story John told you is real"

"I know" I groan still half asleep

"YN can you come and look"

"Fine" I roll my eyes and slowly get out of bed. We walk downstairs and into the betting shop, there's nothing in there... at the moment "do you want to stay in the house? not that that's any better"

"Can I sleep on you bedroom floor" the lights then flick on causing Isaiah to scream as my aunt Polly is stood at the door

"Will you pair shut up. All I can hear is you freaking out" Polly points to Isaiah

"Sorry Poll" Isaiah looks down at his feet

"Bed, both of you" we both make our way to my room and I get Isaiah sorted on my bedroom floor

"Thank you YN"

"So do you believe me now?"

"Yes. I believe you"

"Good" I get into my bed "oh also if you wake up and there's a little boy in the room that's just...."

"Finn I know"

"No it's William, he had TB. Goodnight Is"

"Wait, what. You can't just tell me that and then go to sleep"

"I can and I will"

"But YN..."

"Shhh go to sleep"

"I suppose he got scared then?" I hear Tommys voice. I open my eyes and see my 3 older siblings looking at Isaiah on my floor

"At least he slept on the floor" Arthur comments

"Does he believe you now about the ghosts"

"Yes I think he does" I laugh getting out of bed

"You gonna wake him up?" John asks

"Na he had a bad night last night. Think William came to say hi" I walk past my brothers who all chuckles

"Poor lad" Tommy says as we make our way downstairs

"YN ghosts aren't real" Arthur sighs

"You sure about that. Maybe tonight I'll ask William to go say hi to you"

"Err no no thank you. No thank you William" Arthur shouts out looking around him

"I'm hungry, let's eat" I walk into the kitchen with my brothers following me

"Sleep well YN?"

"Like a baby. Is however I don't think got much sleep" aunt Polly smiled and gives me a knowing wink.