#so i had pasta and garlic bread for dinner to fix it

[neondiamond]

.

[cursedlovesstuff]

Fixing Us. Part 4.

In the car, Nat’s mind raced with doubts and fears as she navigated through the city traffic.

Wanda sat beside her, scrolling through her phone, looking for recipes, but it was hard to ignore the storm of thoughts swirling inside Nat’s head.

“Stop overthinking, Nat,” Wanda said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Nat glanced over, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“Your thoughts are loud,” Wanda replied, not looking up from her phone. “You’re overthinking everything that could go wrong.”

“Because a lot could go wrong, Wanda. This is Y/N we’re talking about,” Nat said, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“I know, which is why you shouldn’t overthink. It’s not helping,” Wanda replied gently.

“I can’t stop overthinking. What if she’s falling out of love with me? What if there’s someone else? What if she doesn’t trust me anymore?” Nat’s voice grew more anxious with each question.

“If she was falling out of love, she wouldn’t give you a chance to fix things. You’re Y/N’s blind spot; she still loves you and she’s still in love with you. If she wasn’t, she would have left by now,” Wanda said firmly.

“Maybe you’ll realize that when you stop pushing her away.”

“I don’t push Y/N away,” Nat retorted defensively.

“You push everyone away, Nat,” Wanda countered, finally putting her phone down. “When you get stressed out and when work gets tough, you shut down emotionally. You try to pretend everything is fine when you’re struggling. You lose focus and forget important things, and Y/N puts up with it.”

Nat remained silent, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel.

Wanda continued, “She tries to get you to sleep, to eat, to train. She tries to keep you on schedule so you don’t fall apart. After so many years, I couldn’t tell you why she still tries to keep you from spiraling.”

Nat sighed deeply, feeling a pang of guilt. “I know I’ve been difficult. I know I’ve taken her for granted.”

“You need to show her that you appreciate her, that you’re willing to put in the effort to make things right,” Wanda said softly. “The reason why I’m helping you is not just for the sake of your relationship, but for the sake of Y/N. She deserves happiness just as much as any of us she has also had a rough life, especially after everything she has done for you.”

“Everything she has done for me?” Nat repeated, sensing there was more to that statement than Wanda was letting on.

Wanda’s eyes flickered with something unspoken, but she didn’t elaborate. “Look, we’re here,” she said instead, nodding towards the parking lot of the shopping center.

Nat pulled into a parking space, turned off the engine, and sat there for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “Thank you, Wanda,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without your support.”

Wanda smiled warmly. “That’s what friends are for. Now, let’s get this dinner sorted out. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

They walked into the grocery store, grabbing a cart. Nat glanced at the shopping list Wanda had compiled. “So, shrimp alfredo and garlic toast?”

“Yep, and we’ll need fresh ingredients to make it special. Let’s start with the seafood section,” Wanda suggested.

As they moved through the aisles, Wanda continued to offer advice. “Remember, it’s not just about the dinner. It’s about showing Y/N that you’re willing to put in the effort, that you’re thinking about her and what she likes.”

“I know,” Nat said, picking out a bag of fresh shrimp. “I just hope it’s not too late.”

“It’s never too late if you’re willing to make a change,” Wanda reassured her, placing a loaf of fresh bread in the cart.

As they moved to the produce section, Wanda picked up a bag of flour. Nat furrowed her brow in confusion. “Why do we need flour? Aren’t we just buying pasta?”

Wanda shook her head with a smile. “We’re making the pasta from scratch. It tastes better, and only the best for Y/N.”

Nat was impressed but also slightly overwhelmed. “Are you sure I can pull this off?”

“With my help, absolutely,” Wanda said confidently. “Let’s grab some fresh garlic and parsley too.”

They continued shopping, selecting the best ingredients. As Wanda picked up fresh tomatoes and heavy cream, Nat asked, “What are those for?”

“Homemade alfredo sauce. Trust me, it’s worth the effort,” Wanda explained, placing the items in the cart.

They made their way through the store, filling the cart with fresh basil, Parmesan cheese, and a bottle of white wine for the sauce. Nat’s mind was slightly more at ease as they checked off items from the list.

Once they had everything for the dinner, Nat wandered off to another section of the store, intent on picking up some of Y/N’s favorite things. She grabbed Oreos, her favorite chips, and some wine she knew Y/N loved among with other things.

As they checked out, Wanda looked at Nat curiously. “You really went all out with the extras.”

Nat smiled slightly. “I want to show her I’m thinking about her, not just with dinner, but in all the little things she loves.”

Wanda nodded approvingly. “That’s the right approach.”

After checking out, Wanda and Nat headed to the car to put up the groceries. Once they got into the car, Wanda gave her a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

Nat nodded, a mix of nerves and determination in her eyes. “Ready.”

As they drove back to Nat’s apartment, the weight of the evening ahead felt heavy but hopeful. Nat was prepared to do whatever it took to make things right, one step at a time.

Back at the apartment, Nat and Wanda unpacked the groceries. Nat carefully placed the fresh ingredients on the counter, feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Wanda began to organize everything, setting out the flour, eggs, and olive oil for the pasta dough.

“Okay, first thing’s first,” Wanda said, tying an apron around her waist. “We’re going to make the pasta dough. It’s a bit messy, but it’s worth it.”

Nat nodded, following Wanda’s lead.

“Alright, Nat. Here’s how we make the pasta dough. First, make a hole in the center of the flour,” Wanda instructed, demonstrating with a mound of flour on the counter. “Then, we crack the eggs into it.”

Nat watched closely and imitated Wanda’s actions, cracking eggs into the flour. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” Wanda said with a nod. “Now, you gently beat the eggs with a fork, slowly incorporating the flour from the edges.”

Nat concentrated, her tongue peeking out slightly as she carefully mixed the eggs and flour. “This is harder than it looks.”

Wanda chuckled. “It takes practice, but you’re doing great. Keep going until it forms a dough.”

As the mixture began to come together, Nat used her hands to knead it into a smooth ball. Wanda added a bit of olive oil, showing Nat how to work it into the dough. “Now we knead. Press it with the heel of your hand, fold it over, and repeat.”

Nat followed Wanda’s movements, finding a rhythm in the repetitive motions. “How long do we knead it?”

“About ten minutes, until it’s smooth and elastic,” Wanda replied. “You’re doing really well, Nat.”

After the dough was ready, they wrapped it in plastic wrap and set it aside to rest. Next, Wanda guided Nat through preparing the shrimp. “First, we need to devein and clean these,” Wanda explained, showing Nat how to remove the shells and veins from the shrimp.

Nat mimicked her, quickly getting the hang of it. “This isn’t so bad.”

“See? You’ve got this,” Wanda encouraged. “Now, let’s season them with some salt, pepper.”

With the shrimp prepped, they moved on to the sauce. Wanda handed Nat a small knife and a clove of garlic.

Nat carefully chopped the garlic, as wanda prepared the pan with olive oil, waiting for Nat to finish. “Great job, Nat.”

After wanda put the garlic into the pan it wasn't long before the aroma of garlic filled the kitchen as it cooked.

Wanda added heavy cream and white wine to the pan, stirring gently. “We’re making the sauce now. Let it simmer and thicken.”

While the sauce simmered, Wanda brought out the pasta dough. “Time to roll out the pasta,” she said, grabbing a rolling pin. “Dust the counter with flour and roll the dough out thinly.”

Nat rolled out the dough, amazed at how it transformed. “This is actually fun.”

Wanda laughed. “Cooking can be therapeutic. Now, we’ll cut the dough into thin strips for the fettuccine.”

They used a sharp knife to cut the pasta into even strips, laying them out to dry slightly. Wanda checked the sauce, adding grated Parmesan cheese and fresh basil. “The sauce is almost ready. Just needs a bit more time.”

Once everything was prepped, Wanda and Nat cooked the pasta in boiling water, watching as it floated to the top. They drained it and added it to the creamy Alfredo sauce, tossing in the cooked shrimp.

After they put everything together in the pot, Wanda’s phone rang, pulling her attention away from their cooking. She glanced at the screen and her face grew serious. “Clint? What’s up?”

Natasha watched Wanda’s expression intently. After a brief conversation, Wanda nodded and ended the call. “Alright, I’ll be there soon.”

Wanda said washing her hands she turns her attention to nat "I have to go someone is trying to rob a bank across town"

"Do you need my help?"

"I think I can handel it but what I do need you to do is fix things with y/n".

“What am I gonna do without your help?” Nat asked, her worry evident.

“Relax, Nat,” Wanda said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Just let the food cook on low for the next 20 minutes.” She hurried to pull on her jacket. “Uh, I’ll send you the recipe for the garlic bread. It’s simple. Call Y/N and see what time she’ll be home.”

Natasha nodded, trying to absorb Wanda’s calmness. “Okay. I’ll handle it.”

Wanda squeezed Nat’s shoulder reassuringly before rushing out. Alone in the kitchen, Nat took a deep breath and began preheating the oven. She gave herself a pep talk, muttering, “You’ve got this. Finish dinner, make her happy, apologize, and talk. Be honest and open. Don’t push her away.” She grabbed her phone and dialed Y/N’s number.

The phone rang for about a minute until Y/N picked up. “Hello?”

“Hey, are you at work right now?” Nat asked, her heart pounding.

There was silence for about ten seconds before Y/N responded. “I’m just getting off and heading to the store. We ran out of eggs and flour, and I need to get something to cook for dinner.”

Nat smiled slightly. “I already went to the store and bought groceries for the week.”

“You did?” Y/N sounded surprised.

“Yes. When will you be home?”

“I guess I can be home in less than 15 minutes.”

“Great. I’ll see you in 15 minutes,” Nat says.

“Oh...okay,” Y/N replied, still sounding puzzled.

After hanging up, Nat started setting up the bed neatly, placing Y/N’s basket of treats and goodies with care. She then returned downstairs, set the oven to preheat, and nervously began preparing the ingredients for the garlic bread.

She heard the door open and close, followed by Y/N’s worried voice. “Nat?” ~

[kentosbabes]

Cooking date night with Nanami

Nanami who scrolls through possible recipes on his phone for hours until he finds the perfect one for your dinner date night. When he does he's sending it straight to you 'What about spaghetti love?' and with a 'sounds perfect' from you, he's out at the shops buying all the ingredients and heading home.

Nanami who rushes home and cant wait to unwind with you after a long day. your already getting started on the meatballs with ingredients you already had when he's walking in with a shopping bag.

Nanami who also brought some of your favourite snacks and expensive wine for your date night. 'Kento that's so sweet of you' you say giving in a quick kiss before going back to making the meatballs. He would hate to show you how much he's blushing 'Uh um I'm going to go get change and I'll come back and help with the sauce.' he mumbles rushing off to your bedroom.

Nanami who gets distracted while looking at how you move your hips along with the song playing as you take the lid off the chopped tomatoes. Of course that means he forgets he's pouring chilly flakes into the source 'Kento that's way too much!' You say taking the chilly flakes away from him looking at practically half the bottle emptied out in the sauce.

Nanami who hugs you from behind as you try and fix the sauce. He sways against you to the music trying to relax your form your stressed state by peppering you with kisses.

Nanami who sets the table with sophisticated cutlery and bowls as you bring over the large bowl of spaghetti and meatballs and a plate with garlic bread. He makes sure to pull out your chair for you as you sit down and pours you a glass of wine.

Nanami who cant stop complimenting your cooking skills. 'I love when you cook, it tastes so much better then when I do it', 'your so perfect' as he twirls his pasta before eating it.

Nanami who loves how sexy you look in your silk pajamas with your hair in a bun and your glasses on as you sip on your wine. His leg finding its way in between yours as he tries to smoothly get his knee to reach your core.

Nanami who smirks as you roll your eyes knowing how this ends up. So you get up and take the dishes away in order to escape his antics but it only makes it easier for him. Pulling you into his lap when you come back and fingering you 'I can't wait to make you my little house wife', 'your so good to me doll'.

Nanami who tells you to sit down while he finishes up the cleaning as you talk to him about your day. 'you just sit there and look pretty for me yeah, I've got this.'

Nanami who can't stop thinking about marrying you and coming home to the smell of you cooking as you dance around the kitchen. He makes sure to spoil you for the rest of the evening after the chilly insident.

Nanami who enjoys having his desert spread out on his bed as he licks and sucks up and down your folds watching as your squirm underneath him.

Nanami who goes to sleep with you in his arms thinking about having a quiet and simple domestic life with you.

Masterlist

[cwritesforfun]

The Bear: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x Fem!Reader: Crush

You work at the Bear as the hostess when Sugar needs help and you're close with Carmy, Sydney, and Marcus. You like everyone else, but you're just closest with those three. Richard keeps trying to force you and Carmy to be alone together, so he annoys you right now. (YES, the plot has changed.)

Y/N = Your Name

Your POV

You open your phone bright and early to see a text from Carmy: Call me if you get this before 5:30 or before you leave. You click the call button next to his number and wait for him to answer.

****Start of conversation Y/N - Hey Chef... what's up? Carmy - Richard said you live near me. Could you drive me to work? Y/N - Yeah, uh can you send me your address? I just finished breakfast and I just need to get my shoes on. Carmy - Yeah, okay I sent it. Y/N - You're only a 5 minute drive from me. I'll be there soon. I'll text you when I leave. Carmy - Thanks Y/N... Thanks, Chef. End of conversation****

You wait in your car for Carmy and see him exit his building. He climbs into your car and you let him buckle his seatbelt before driving off.

As you drive, Carmy says, "So... uh my car... it uh broke down yesterday. Richard doesn't have his license and he didn't want to risk driving me to work. I think he just didn't want to drive me because he drives me around all the time. He told me you lived closer to me than he did. So I called you. Thanks for ... thanks for driving me." You exclaim, "It's totally okay. I don't mind. I like getting to work early and you live very close, so this works out for us both. Do you need a ride back to your place after work too?" He answers, "Yeah if you don't mind." You reply, "No, I don't. I can drive you until you get your car fixed. It's cool. Do you want a homemade protein bar?" He answers, "Sure... I guess." You reply, "You can say no, I don't care. It's the only way I can survive working these shifts. It has peanut butter, maple syrup, protein powder, oats, and that's it. They're delicious and they fuel you until the next meal." He replies, "I'll try one, then. If you care about it this much and you made them, they have to be good." You keep driving and you hear Carmy say, "Fuck, these are good. I could eat a whole tray." You reply, "Thanks."

We park, you hand out the rest of the protein bars to the rest of the staff, and you help set up and clean the dining area once more. You then help Marcus with desserts. You used to always say that dessert was your favorite meal, but now it's tied with dinner. Pasta and garlic bread together could kill you, but you'd be okay with it because you'd die happy. Making desserts brings you so much joy because there's something so amazing about the process of picking the right amount of ingredients to decorating them before customers eat them.

Your shift starts and it's packed. It's Saturday and there are tons of people hustling in. You even fill the bar with walk-ins. Richard runs the dining room with ease and you can tell he's at home here. At a quiet moment, he slides behind the hostess stand next to you and asks, "So, how was the ride this morning?" You answer, "Carmy and I talked. He liked the protein bars I made. It was good. He thinks you had an ulterior motive for not driving him." He smirks and replies, "I did. I want one of you to cut that sexual tension and confess your feelings." You laugh and say, "He's my boss and I like this job." He replies, "We both know you're just passing time here because you love the people. You make way more at your weekday job. You could easily quit working here and date him." You reply, "I could. I don't know. I am not quitting." You hear, "What's this about quitting?" You see Carmy standing there looking between the both of you. Richard says, "I was just telling dear sweet Y/N that she could quit working here. She makes more during the week. She doesn't need to overwork herself." Carmy turns to you and asks, "Are you overworking yourself?" You answer, "No I'm not. Thanks for your concern." Carmy says, "Yeah no problem. It's time for your 15-minute break and I was wondering if you wanted to take it with me. Richard can handle it out here." You answer, "Sure, yeah. Richard can handle it." Richard says, "I hate you when you two gang up on me. Just date already and make me happy." Carmy and I both shove Richard who says, "That was scarily in sync."

Outside, you eat a donut that was messed up by Marcus and Carmy smokes by your side. Carmy exclaims, "I know you don't have to come in on weekends and you shouldn't feel obligated because Sugar asked you to. I don't want you to overwork yourself and not have time for yourself because it's important to care for yourself. I don't want you to not be okay. I just... I care about you." You reply, "I care about you too and don't want you to overwork yourself either. You work as much as me, Carmy. I don't feel obligated to work because of Sugar or anyone else. I like working at the Bear because I love the people here. I have Sunday off every week and usually I get to work from home at least 2 days a week, so the work week feels less stressful. I will let you know if I ever need a break." He nods and says, "Good good. I want you to be able to come to me if you ever need anything." You reply, "Same to you. I'm here if you ever need anything too. Speaking of, I'm making dinner for Marcus, Sydney, and I tonight after work? Do you want to come over too?" He asks, "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to mess up your plans together." You answer, "It's all good. We just eat, drink, and either play games or watch tv. It's really chill and nice." He replies, "Ok, as long as you let me help cook." I reply, "Sounds good. I could always use the help."

When you told Sydney and Marcus that Carmy was joining for dinner, they were so happy. They also want you to tell Carmy that you like him. Why does everyone want you to? chill...

Carmy gets in your car after work and says, "Sorry that you had to wait. I had to make sure things were all set for tomorrow morning." You reply, "It's okay. Do you need anything from your apartment before we go to my place? I can stop." He answers, "Yeah I do, thank you."

You drive to his apartment and wait for him in the car. He tells you that he is going to take a 5-minute shower and then he'll be down.

You drive to your apartment when Carmy gets back and park in your spot in the garage. Carmy asks, "Do you have to walk in this garage every night?" You answer, "Yeah, why?" He answers, "I just want you to be careful." You reply, "Awww you're very caring today. It's sweet." He replies, "I don't think anyone's ever said I was sweet unless it was as a joke." You reply, "Carmen Berzatto, you're genuinely one of the kindest people I know. You go out of your way and show people you care about them despite all you've been through. You always make me feel cared for and understood. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He replies, "Thank you." You reach over, squeeze his hand, and say, "I meant every word." He squeezes your hand back and smiles.

After getting to your apartment, you give Carmy a quick tour of the place. You have a 2-bedroom apartment with your best friend from college who is visiting her boyfriend out of town for the week. It's small, but it's yours and it's great.

You put music on your speaker then head to the kitchen. Carmy asks, "What can I do to help?" You answer, "I'm making chicken, fried rice, and stir-fry vegetables. It's essentially just chicken fried rice. I made dessert last night too that I can break out later. Do you want to help chop vegetables?" Carmy answers, "Yes Chef. It sounds like it will be a good meal, have you made it before?" You hand him vegetables and say, "Yeah it's one of my favorite things to make for people. Marcus requests it at least once a month and Sydney requested the dessert." He takes the vegetables as you set out knives on a chopping board for him to start cutting stuff. You have just enough time to start the rice when you hear the doorbell ring.

Sydney and Marcus walk in. Sydney says, "I present you with tonight's wine and beer of choice. We got dry Riseling wine and Pilsner beer to pair with our dinner. Then, we brought vodka for the dessert cocktail." You cheer and say, "I'm so excited. This'll be great." You go back to prepping the meal to see that Carmy is working fast. You should've known he'd be quick. He's a chef for a living. Sydney asks, "Y/N, do you want a glass of wine or a beer as you cook?" You answer, "Beer please." Sydney asks, "What about you, Carmy?" Carmy answers, "Yeah, I'll take a beer, sure."

Sydney and Marcus stand by talking to you and Carmy as you cook. The cooking time flies by and it's time to eat. You put the dessert in the center of the table for after dinner. You made red velvet brownies.

At the dinner table after everyone is served, Marcus exclaims, "And today, we thank the world for bringing Y/N to the Bear. Without her, I wouldn't have a dessert buddy or this chicken fried rice." You laugh and Sydney says, "I can't wait for dessert. I'm gonna need the rest to-go. Don't eat too much boys." Carmy asks, "Why aren't you a chef? This is fucking delicious." Sydney says, "Woah there Carmy. Save some compliments for the rest of us, buddy." You laugh and say, "Thank you all for the kind words. I have some already packed to-go for you, Sydney." Sydney replies, "And this is why I love you!"

Soon enough, the beer and wine are finished. And the cocktails begin... they work tomorrow, which is wild how much they're consuming. We're sitting on the couch now. Carmy is next to you and his arm has been wrapped around your shoulder for most of the night. You don't mind at all, but will he regret it? I guess it's not a kiss.

After you all watch a movie, Marcus announces to everyone he needs sleep. Carmy seems confused when Marcus pulls out a blow-up mattress and starts to inflate it. Oh, guess you forgot to tell him that they usually spend the night. You should never drink and drive, so Marcus brings an air mattress. Sydney sleeps on the couch. You make breakfast for them or have something prepped to take on-the-go for them in the morning depending on how much you drink.

You exclaim, "Carmy, uh... could you help me carry the stuff on the table into the kitchen?" Carmy nods and he helps you bring stuff to the kitchen before he asks, "Why are Marcus and Sydney getting ready for bed here?" You answer, "Right, yeah I forgot to tell you that. They spend the night if they drink a lot or if one of them isn't the designated driver. I even make them breakfast in the mornings too. I just want them to be taken care of and safe. You're welcome to stay the night too...or I can call you a cab. The only place is in my bed if you're okay sharing." He asks, "Only if it's okay with you? I don't think I would make it back to my place honestly." You answer, "It's all good. There are extra toothbrushes and stuff in the bathroom closet that you can use." He replies, "Yeah I'll go get ready for bed then. Will you be coming to bed soon?" You reply, "Yes, I just want to make sure both of them are all good before I go to sleep." He nods and walks off.

You go to make sure that Marcus and Sydney are taken care of. Sydney pulls you to her and says, "OMG! So are you and Carmy like dating or something?" You ask, "Why would you think that?" She answers, "Dude, he had his arm around you, he was positive, and he complimented you. If you're not having sex to make him happy, I'm seriously questioning his mental state." You reply, "I feel like that's rude to say. He is allowed to be happy." Marcus replies, "And you are too, you know? With or without him, we support you." You reply, "That's so sweet, Marcus. Thank you both. Now, what do you guys want for breakfast? I have stuff for burritos, pancakes, or overnight oatmeal." Sydney says, "We want burritos. I can guarantee you that is what Marcus wants." Marcus laughs and nods. You talk with them a bit more before you lay out some stuff for breakfast then head to your room. You need to shower so badly...you stink so much from work.

Carmy is staring at your bed when you walk in. You laugh and say, "The bed won't bite, Carmy. You can take either side. I sleep on the side where that book is if you don't want to take my side. I'm going to shower, but I'll be back soon. Feel free to read any of the books or look at anything. I trust you and I don't care." He nods and you go to the bathroom. You then throw on your matching set of pajamas. You leave the bathroom to see Carmy looking at your book and photo collection. You ask, "See anything you like?" Carmy answers, "Yeah actually I'm really impressed with your photos. Did you take all of them? And have you read all of these books?" You laugh, stand next to him, and answer, "I have read the top two shelves. That cart is books I need to read still. The photos are all mine, except the ones I'm in. Those were mostly taken by family members. I can always take more of the Bear if you guys ever need any promotional content." He replies, "Thanks, I might just take you up on it. Your bed is comfy by the way. I uh... I didn't know how comfortable you were with me sleeping there so I waited for you." You sit on your bed and pat the space next to you. He walks over and gently sits next to you. You say, "See, that's not so bad. And, I don't care that we're going to share this bed. I feel safe around you and I trust you. It's all good." He asks, "Why do you always compliment me? I mean, everyone at work hates me during work hours because of how much I scream and the standards I hold people to. But you... you just see the light in me." He looks so broken. It's truly sad he doesn't see what you see. You put your hand on his shoulder gently and say, "Because of what I see in you, Carmy. I see someone so kind and safe and trusting and hard-working. Yes you can scream, but we all can and that's the way of the kitchen. You do apologize when you're in the wrong and that's what counts. The standards you set are the reason that the Bear has such delicious food and has a steady influx of customers. You wanted this place to be successful and you had a dream. People just need to see what you see and once they know the standard, it's golden. So yes, I will compliment you when I want to." He puts his hand on the one on his shoulder and says, "You're so perfect... listen, I heard you all talking in the living room. If everyone thinks we're already dating, why don't we give it a try?" You answer, "Sure, when we're both free next, we can go on a date." He asks, "What would you say if I took off tomorrow and we just spent it together?" You ask, "You are going to take off tomorrow. I don't believe that for one second." He smirks and replies, "Richard and Sydney can handle it. I have a date I need to go on." You smile and say, “If you take off, I will gladly go on a date with you tomorrow. And if you don’t take off work tomorrow, I’m free after 5 every night this week and I’m off on Sundays every week.” He replies, “I’ll call Richard right now. Here we go. I’ll even put him on speaker phone so he behaves.”

You laugh.

**** Start of conversation Richard - Is something wrong, Carmy? You never call me this late. Carmy - Everything is fine. Look, I’m with Y/N right now. Richard - Define with. Are you dating her now? Why are you at her house late? Did you get laid? Give me more. Y/N - Chill, Richard. Richard - Oh hi … wow Carmy wasn’t lying that you were there. Carmy - I’m at her place, moron. Now listen, I’m taking off work tomorrow all day so I can go on a date with Y/N and spend the day with her. Richard - Holy shit you’re not coming to work! Y/N really has changed you. This is blowing my mind right now. I should’ve bought a lotto ticket tonight. Damn it. Carmy - Cousin, shut up. Tell me, can you handle tomorrow? Richard - Yes I can. The staff and I can. I know how everything runs and I will call you after closing to tell you how it goes to make you happy. Although you will probably be getting laid, so you’ll already be happy. Y/N - Please shut up. Carmy - Yeah Cousin, there is a lady present. Bye and thank you. Richard - Use protection kids. End of conversation ****

After hanging up the phone, you ask, “How does it feel? You’re going to get to sleep in and you’re going on a date tomorrow.” Carmy answers, “Honestly, I’m excited. This might be the best day of this year for me.” You laugh and lean your head on his shoulder. He cuddles close to you and says, “I wasn’t really nervous about sharing a bed with you … I was nervous about telling you my feelings and then you rejecting me or just wanting to be friends. I've been overthinking how I should tell you my feelings and when. Richard has also been pushing me about it and I knew deep down that he was right.” I laugh and say, "Don't let him hear you say that. I do have to get up to make breakfast for Sydney and Marcus in the morning, but I will go back to bed after." He says, "Wait one second, I'll be right back." He slides out from under me and walks out my room. OK?? What??

Carmy returns looking confused and weirded out. I ask, "Where did you go? You have a weird face right now." He gets in bed, opens his arms for me, and says, "They were just drunk and were happy that I asked you out. I forget how honest people are when they are drunk. It was weird. I just went to ask them if it was okay that you didn't make them breakfast because I wanted you to have sleep and to sleep in with me. I hope that's okay. I just heard you talk with Richard about how you don't want to overwork yourself and I want you to have rest for the week." I kiss him on the cheek and say, "You're so sweet. I'm not mad. I'm very glad you were looking out for me."

PART TWO

[redflagshipwriter]

Reassembly 5

Masterpost

(What the frick is the bat guy about???)

They did serious damage to Lexy’s credit card in the form of a cast iron pan, a pot, basic cooking utensils and a four-person set of dishware before they even made it to the grocery store.

Peter tried not to go nuts there. He really did. But Kon had that empty kitchen! And to be honest, shopping was major wish fulfillment. Even though he knew he wouldn’t be eating all of the food he got way into it. They stocked up on easy freezer food like pizza rolls and fries. They got pasta mixes and jarred sauces and they got snacks and sweets. He even got Kon baking basics. It might take Kon a while to get into his fresh bread era, but it was going to happen. Peter was calling it now. Kon was just that kind of guy.

The last thing he got was meat. Meat and cheese and fresh vegetables. Peter ended up putting back half of what he initially put in the cart because, honestly, Kon didn’t have a massive super appetite and he didn’t know how to cook yet. Vegetables were just going to go bad, so he only got what he planned to use that night. He also stocked Kon up on breakfast supplies- bread and jam, eggs, sausage, coffee and tea and juice.

‘I wish I was staying with Kon to eat this. I’m going to be hungry again tomorrow.’

Peter pushed down that greedy little thought where it belonged. He was going to be eating lunch and dinner with Kon tonight, since they were cooking together. That was already really generous on Kon’s part. He couldn’t ask for more.

The boys ended up making spaghetti. Peter wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he could cut onion and garlic to cook meat in, shred in carrots and zucchini, and add a jar of red sauce to make something nutritionally dense that tasted really good. Kon hovered over his shoulder watching this process and making faux sports commentary. 

“Go away!” Peter shoved Kon with his shoulder, laughing. “Go start the garlic bread.”

“...Garlic bread?” Kon asked hopefully. He seemed way younger than he was sometimes. “You can make that at home?”

“You can, if you get to cutting garlic really small.” Peter tossed him a bulb without looking.

They ate dinner while watching some drama that Kon picked out on a streaming service. “Holy shit,” Kon said quietly after his first bite. He put down the plate and took a photo.

Peter snorted. Kon must have sent it to someone because his phone went off constantly after that.

He wasn’t even done eating their late lunch when he first wondered where he was going to sleep tonight. Peter stared down into his pasta like it might have some answers. When should he leave? What would he say if Kon asked for his phone number? He didn’t have one. He couldn’t give Kon the number to the phone he had on him– he was pretty sure that he really should get rid of it in case someone was tracking him. 

He should ask first. If he directed the conversation it would be easier to be normal than if he was just answering questions. So Peter swallowed hard, made himself smile, and said, “This was fun. Wanna hang out again?”

Kon noisily slurped down some sauce and wiggled in place while he chewed and swallowed. “Yeah, we should!” he agreed. “You uh, free later this week?”

He was jobless and homeless with no other acquaintances. 

“I have some time,” Peter said casually. “I’m kinda busy tomorrow, but the day after? Should I come over in the afternoon?”

“Yeah!” Kon bounced up off his seat for a moment. “We can finish the projects. Or work on them, at least.” He screwed his face up with a thought. “Can I get your handle or number, in case my work pops up?”

Peter’s smile turned fixed. “Actually, not now,” he said as casually as he could manage. “I dropped my phone in water. I just have my Dad’s old phone right now for emergencies.” He didn’t need to add that lie, but what if he needed to pull out the flip phone later? He didn’t want Kon to think that he just hadn’t wanted to give his number.

Kon laughed. “That sucks, man,” he empathized. 

Oh thank Thor, he bought it. 

The fabric was dry by then, so Peter helped Kon cut it out and sew it into place. Kon modeled his new look in the living room and then took approximately two hundred selfies while Peter worked on his project. Kon eventually flopped down on the sofa upside down and started sketching out design ideas. Peter glanced over and saw what looked like a boob window cut into some kind of top.

…Kon would look great in it. Peter didn’t comment. He smiled a little more when he went back to cutting out pieces for his own jacket.

“Smile!”

Peter looked over on reflex and cheesed. A shutter went off. “Can I send that to my friends?” Kon asked, so casually that Peter knew it mattered a lot. “Cassie says no way did I meet someone without her.”

“Go ahead.” Peter gave a thumbs up for reasons even he did not understand. Good thing he wasn’t a weird little guy! 

Kon looked relieved. There was less tension when he went back to looking at his phone. “Thanks, man. You want to think about dinner soon? You’ve been working for a couple of hours.”

Peter had to blink a few times to process that. Oh yeah, he was pretty stiff. He stretched experimentally. “You’re right,” he said, mildly surprised. “Huh. What did you have in mind?”

Kon shrugged. “Pizza?”

Peter hummed. “We can pull that off,” he decided. “We have… two more jars of marinara, one will do. Cheese, the bell peppers- yeah, that’ll work.” He stood in a smooth movement. “Could you get the flour down from where we put it- yeah, thanks.” Kon hovered back down and handed him the bag.

“I meant that we should order it,” Kon said, but he didn’t protest. “You can make pizza? At home?” He was delighted by this new information.

“You can make basically anything at home,” Peter said, because it apparently needed to be said. “Can you look up a pizza dough recipe?” He got out the salt and tried to remember where he’d put yeast.

Pizza did not go quite as smoothly as the pasta had. Kon brutalized the dough by over mixing it and the gluten developed bonds strong enough to rival the Hulk. But it was still edible! Kon was openly delighted with what he had made. Peter stole sideways glances at him, wondering if he should reassure that it was a great first try.

‘..I’m not sure he knows that it’s really tough,’ Peter decided. He said nothing. They watched one episode of Kon’s selected drama before Peter decided it was time to go.

Kon seemed surprised when Peter said that. He blinked at him a few times. “It felt like I was at the tow- a sleepover,” he said self consciously. He forced a laugh. “Yeah. You wanna leave your stuff here?”

Peter looked around Kon’s surgically clean living room and wondered if Lexy’s cleaning staff would throw away his stuff. “Yeah, sure,” he said, because it wasn’t like he had a place to store a project. “I appreciate that.”

He left not much later, making his excuses and backing out into the night with dread that he didn’t want to face curling in his gut. The feeling intensified as he got down to the lobby of Kon’s apartment building.

It was dark out, even with the streetlights on. The air was cold against his face. Peter huddled into his jacket, hand wound tightly around the strap of the bag with everything he owned in it.

At least he knew the time. It was a little past 10 pm.

He needed a shower and to sleep. The gym should be empty now. He could break back in, shower, and then go sleep on the library couch again. Even if the librarian came in early again, he could get a few hours of sleep.

He woke up again to the sound of keys in the door downstairs. This time he woke up feeling much better rested. Peter wandered blearily until he found a clocktower and realized it was nearly 9 am. Nice. He was working on his sleep debt, then. He surely hadn’t spent more than an hour between traveling to the gym, showering, and getting to the couch last night. That was maybe 9.5, 10 hours of sleep?

He left to a new hotel for a breakfast buffet. This one was particularly sad. He had two pieces of peanut butter toast and a glass of milk before he heard the front door staff quietly phone someone else asking if they had any teenagers staying at the moment. He left pretty quickly after that and walked for a while, heart pounding. The police didn’t descend on him with sirens and lights, so he was probably okay.

‘I can’t go back there.’

Later that day, Peter grimaced and took a moment to indulge in burying his face in his hands. He was overwhelmed and he still felt shitty and dirty and gross despite his shower. Maybe it was getting spotted as a homeless teen eating from the buffet? Yeah. Probably that.

He was in the library again, sitting in front of one of the older computers and hoping he'd get a reply from a potential client who had asked for some information. 

Maybe it was a little weird to spend all day in the library. He was on notice for librarians acting like they wanted him to clear out, just in case.

But, assuming no one had any problems with it, why not spend most of his daylight hours there? He could study computer science, use the computers to do his work, and be somewhere temperature controlled for free. They also had pitchers of coffee and tea for free that he took advantage of. 

He was hungry, though. He was always hungry. Maybe it had been a mistake to go to Kon’s house. It almost felt worse to be hungry again after eating everything he wanted two meals in a row. Peter suppressed despair. He was doing his best! He was taking care of himself.

"Is everything alright?" 

Peter shot up and gave a sheepish grin to the librarian. He hadn't noticed her approaching, but he'd been lost in his head. "It's fine," he said. 

The older woman gave him a sympathetic smile. "Well, let me know if there's anything I can help with. It's what I'm here for." 

Oh. Before she could turn away he blurted out, "College!" 

Her face lit up. "Are you applying?" 

"I need to." Peter wrung his hands together. "But I don't know where to start. I want to go somewhere with a strong sciences program but I think I need to go there on scholarship." 

She sat down beside him, an easy smile on her face like this was a topic that she enjoyed. “Do you care about where it is?”

Peter shook his head. “It would be best if I could stay in NYC since I know here, but I’m willing to go anywhere that meets those conditions.”

She nodded slowly. “There’s a few places I can think of.” She hesitated. “Do you expect to be eligible for testing related scholarships?”

“Yeah,” said Peter, who was so good at tests but would probably falsify the results that he needed if he didn’t manage to take tests in time. “I test well. Very well.”

“That’s great! And you said sciences? Technological sciences?” she didn’t glance at his current computer science book, but she didn’t have to. 

“Yes,” he said, not entirely sure what he should be focusing on. Engineering, to build some kind of portal? Astrophysics like Dr. Foster, to find an Einstein-Rosen bridge? He’d have to get his foot in the door to figure out what was going on in the fields here. Shit, he should have looked into that already. 

“And you would be looking to live by yourself, on campus? Or off? With family?”

“By myself,” Peter said, and wow that was depressing. “And whichever way is cheapest.” He cringed as he said it. That felt pathetic too. He wanted to say he wanted to live on campus since he’d be more likely to meet people that way. But honestly, he had no resources, at all. He couldn’t afford to be picky. 

The librarian’s smile was a bit fixed now. “I… I almost hate to suggest it, but have you considered Gotham?” She continued before Peter had to decide whether or not he should admit he didn’t know that university. “It’s a dangerous city to live in, but it’s very affordable, and there’s extensive funding for the sciences and student support services.”

“...Because it’s a dangerous city and doesn’t get many people?” Peter confirmed.

She was doing her best to keep a poker face. “That’s right. They have a brain drain situation at the moment, so the sciences are really well funded. I think you could probably go there with full support, though that might be contingent on taking an internship or job in Gotham after graduation.”

Huh. He considered it. He’d never heard of Gotham, so it had to be a city that didn’t exist back home. But so what? How bad could it be? It was like, Chicago or something? He could handle that. He was Spiderman. He was an Avenger, sort of. So he directed a real smile at the librarian. “If I could get a full scholarship there, I would go in a heartbeat,” Peter said. “Thanks for the suggestion! I’ll look into the university there.”

The librarian patted the side of his chair as she stood up. “Wonderful! Let me know if you change your mind or have any questions!”

He ended up having a lot of questions, actually, once he started looking into Gotham, but he didn’t think, “What the frick is the vampire bat guy about?” was what she’d had in mind.

[yesiwasateenagewerewolf]

When Richie announces to the Losers that he's dating a guy, Eddie - freshly divorced and living on his own for the first time in his life - declares, with a rather maniac gleam in his eye that he wants to throw a dinner party for the Losers to meet Richie's boyfriend.

The thing is Eddie has never thrown a dinner party before. In fact, Eddie has only recently started to cook for himself at the tender age of 41. He's teaching himself with a step-by-step guide.

So far he's made boiled eggs, fried eggs, poached eggs, scrambled eggs and he's planning to try making an omelette. The step-by-step guide starts with eggs so that's what Eddie's doing. Still he is determined he will throw a dinner party for Richie (and his boyfriend.)

Eddie goes out and buys scallops. He buys fresh pasta. He buys expensive wine. He plans an extravagant menu starting with lightly seared scallops. Then he overcooks the scallops, terrified he'll give someone food poisoning, and turns them into rubbery little bullets.

He's forlornly wondering how to save them when there's a knock at the door. It's still hours before anyone is supposed to arrive. Eddie opens the door to find Richie standing there.

"I know I'm early, but I thought you'd be freaking out so I'm offering my services as a sous chef," Richie says, wandering in and rolling up his sleeves. He heads straight for the kitchen and surveys the mess Eddie has made.

Eddie trails behind him, slightly mesmerised by the fact that Richie knows him so well. Richie scrapes the rubbery scallops into the bin and suggests they make a salad for a appetizer. He sets Eddie to chopping vegetables while he tastes the ragù Eddie has made.

It tastes like beef, tomatoes and salt. "Don't worry! We can fix it," Richie assures, opening one of the expensive bottles of wine and pouring some into the ragù. He hunts through Eddie's fridge and finds garlic and onions which also get added.

Eddie has been tending to a small collection of fresh herbs which he keeps on his kitchen window sill because his cookery guide said fresh herbs would taste better. Richie picks some thyme, bemused, and adds it to the pot.

"Eds, why are you growing these if you don't use them?"

"I was going to! I was going to try an omelette with chives if the plain omelette went well."

Richie smiles fondly. "We can always make omelettes if everything else fails."

He helps Eddie make a simple salad dressing from the oils and vinegars in Eddie's cupboards and Eddie is surprised by how delicious it all is. Richie even slices up the organic sourdough Eddie buys to make a bread basket for the table. It's rustic and homey. Eddie loves it.

It's nothing like Eddie planned, but it's so much better. He sets the table while Richie washes his hands and heads off to pick up his boyfriend.

Left alone, Eddie puts his head in his hands and sobs.

He realises - too late - that he did all of this to impress Richie. That he wanted to show Richie he could be good partner material. He wanted to make Richie a delicious homecooked meal, host a fabulous party, make Richie feel adored and loved.

Instead Richie was the one who showed what a good partner he'd be. Thoughtful, understanding, helpful. Things Eddie knows people wouldn't believe if he told them but things Richie has always been for Eddie. And Eddie was so happy cooking with him, playing house, being domestic.

But this is a dinner party to meet Richie's boyfriend and Eddie, because the universe really does love making Eddie miserable, has just realized he's in love with Richie. He goes to the bathroom and splashes cold water on his face, worried the other will know he was crying.

The Losers arrive. Richie arrives for the second time, but now with a young man called Anthony. Anthony is nice. He's an actor - mostly on the stage, but he's had some small parts in police procedurals.

He's younger than Richie, but doesn't run afoul the 'half your age plus seven' dating rule that everyone outside of Eddie seemed to know about. He's polite, nice, offers to help clear the plates which Eddie won't hear of because he's a guest.

When Eddie starts clearing the table, Richie just joins him, following Eddie into the kitchen and asking about desert. Eddie - horrified - realizes he never even thought about dessert. Richie tells him to brew some espresso and hunts through Eddie's fridge for ice cream.

Five minutes later and with just two ingredients - espresso and vanilla ice cream - Eddie is serving Affogato and blushing at the compliments he gets from Bev (who spent time in Italy) and Bill (who really likes Affogato and how did Eddie know?)

Everything is cosy and relaxed and intimate in the best way. Eddie doesn't even really register Anthony after a while. He drinks wine and talks to his friends, catches Richie watching him and smiling proudly.

It's so good until, one-by-one, the other Losers start to stand and stretch and yawn and tell Eddie they had a wonderful time but they need to be going now. In the end it's just Richie, Eddie and Anthony left.

"I should get a head start on the washing up," Eddie says. Richie nods.

"Yeah, I should be getting this young man home."

Anthony swats at him playfully and Eddie's heart aches.

He says goodbye to them and goes into the kitchen, needing to be alone.

He hears Richie linger, telling Anthony on the doorstep that he just wants to say thank you again and that Anthony should wait for him in the car.

Then Richie is back, in Eddie's kitchen, relaxed and happy, grinning wide.

"I just wanted to say thanks again, Eddie. It really means a lot to me this party and you hosting it. I'm gonna deny I said any of this tomorrow and blame it on the wine, but I was really worried me coming out and dating guys would change things between us."

"I'd blame the Clown but it's not like the 80s were an enlightened age. It's shitty but I still had your voice in my head telling me I'd get AIDs if I touched a subway pole. I know we were just stupid kids and you didn't mean it, but your mom...fuck this is coming out wrong."

"It just means a lot to me. That's all. It just really means a lot to me."

"Richie, I..."

Eddie doesn't know what he was going to say, but then it doesn't matter because he's kissing Richie, and Richie is kissing him.

They're kissing in Eddie's kitchen while Richie's boyfriend waits for him in the car downstairs. It's so wrong but Eddie doesn't stop it. He lets Richie push him back against the counter, moans into the kiss, clinging to Richie, hungry for everything he can get.

Richie is the one who breaks away, who looks at Eddie with wide-eyed fear - as if seeing Eddie for the first time - the one who books it out of Eddie's apartment as fast as his legs will carry him.

Eddie quietly cleans up, trying not to think about what just happened.

He's about to go to bed when there's a knock on his door.

He opens it to find Richie standing there.

"I broke up with Anthony," Richie says, watching Eddie wearily, as if he expects Eddie to shut the door on him.

Instead Eddie takes his hand and kisses him again.

[darkapples13]

This is a continuation of a previous post I did which I’m calling based off of @forgettingcrowbin idea where Nightmare takes in Palette

The Chronicals of Nightmare and Palette

Chapter 2: Dinner Time

When Palette woke up he wasn’t sure if what happened was actually real or if it was a very civid dream. But when he shifted around in a nice soft bed covered by a full blanket he was sure it wasn’t a dream anymore. He sat up and saw a gift box on the end of the bed.

He was cautious in opening it but when he did he was pleasantly surprised by the gift. It was from Killer and inside the Box was a new pair of clothes, a dark purple shirt with a green jacket, and a pair of black ripped jeans.

He put them on and walked out of his room only to find Horror about to knock on his door. “Oh heh Horror what’s up?” Palette asked. Horror smiled and took him to the dining room where breakfast was all set up.

Palette sat down and they all started to eat breakfast, but Horror made sure that Palette had enough to eat and maybe even a bit more than enough. Since it seemed that Palette didn’t want to take larger portion sizes than ones that would be meant for little kids. So the next few days Horror made sure to serve Palette serving sizes that fit him.

Eventually this became the entire routine for them and Horror would serve Palette the correct amount before letting the rest of breakfast continue. But other than breakfast time together nothing really happened with the others and Palette during the day.

Sure they maybe Interacted at lunch or dinner but rarely any time in between those meal times. Palette mainly stayed on his own in his room just drawing or reading one of the books Nightmare gave him. He tried to help out with chores a few times but it always ended up in confusion so he just stopped trying to help and stayed in his room most of the day.

But that changed when Nightmare and the others had to go on a mission and Palette was left home alone. So he decided to do the chores that weren’t already done and to make the most of the day. He cleaned the bathrooms, did the dishes, mowed the lawn, fixed up the training dummy’s etc. So that was mainly Palettes entire day except for when it came to the end of his cleaning spree.

Palette looked at the time and saw that it was almost 6:00 so he decided to make some dinner. Spaghetti carbonara to be exact, he made sure that they had all of the ingredients for it first and then started to cook. He chopped up the bacon, mushrooms, and zucchini. Then he made the sauce.

He boiled the pasta and put the cooked pasta into a separate pot of similar size. He added the sauce and the vegetables and the bacon into the pasta. He mixed it around and added cappers into the pasta, not too many but just enough to add a pop of flavor into the pasta dish.

He then set the stove on low heat to keep the pasta warm while he started to make a lemon pie and he used the left over egg whites from earlier to make the meringue. After the pie was done he popped it in the fridge and started to work on making some garlic bread.

He just made fancy garlic bread like the way you see it in restaurants and added a crap ton of cheese on top of it. He was just setting the garlic bread on the counter when he heard one of Nightmares portals open up. And when the others came into the kitchen and saw Palette they were at a loss for words.

“How did you do this..?” Horror asked as he looked at the spaghetti carbonara. Palette shrugged and stirred the pasta around. “I figured you guys would be hungry after your mission so I decided to cook after doing the chores.” Palette said simply. Palette served everyone a nice large portion of food, he even gave himself a decent portion much to Horrors delight.

After dinner Palette went to his room where he tried to go to sleep after a nice long day. But it was going to be one of the nights where his body wouldn’t let him sleep no matter how hard he tried. So he just laid there in the dark waiting for him to eventually drift to sleep.

About an hour later he still wasn’t falling asleep and Nightmare came in to check on him. “Why are you still awake child? It’s midnight and you should be sleeping after all of the work you did today.” Nightmare said as he flicked on the light. Palette shrugged and sat up feeling restless. “It’s just one of those nights where your brain feels like it’s never going to shut off.” Palette explained.

Nightmare left the room and came back 5 minutes later with a children’s book in hand. “You need to rest for tomorrow Palette so I’ll try this method that I do with dust sometimes.” Nightmare said plainly. Palette laid back down and watched as Nightmare flipped the book open to page one and started reading.

“One upon a time there was a fluffy bunny. This bunny liked to play games with his friends. One of his favorite games was hide and seek. But his friends had grown quite tired of this game navy’s they were never able to find him.” Nightmare read. “But maybe this time with your help you’ll be able to find fluffy bunny in his…” Nightmare kept going.

Palette slowly drifted to sleep as Nightmares voice gets slowly droned out more and more the longer he reads. Eventually Palette finally falls asleep and starts to lightly snore the exhaustion finally taking hold of his body.

Nightmare pats the child’s head and ticks him in making sure that Palette is fully covered with the soft blanket. He turns off the lights and utters a single “good night.” To Palette before he leaves and closes the door behind him making sure it was quiet as to not wake him.

And the only thought that crossed Palettes mind before drifting off to sleep was.

Maybe this is my home?

Drawing of the clothes Killer gave Palette at the beginning

[ruvviks]

idk what emojis have or havent been sent anymore so if there are any you REEAAALLLYY wanna answer for either of your guys here is your opportunity hehe [:

oc asks!

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies?

heavenly likes keeping a journal! he writes in it a lot and also keeps several notebooks full of vampire encounters and any new information he can gather on them. he enjoys making list and gathering data and this is a very nice and organized way of keeping his brain busy in quieter moments. he also likes to code in his free time, building websites and online games and stuff! also enjoys drawing a lot but he sucks ass at it but he doesn't care, he's still having fun with it

🩸 DROP OF BLOOD — what is your oc's blood type?

heavenly's blood type is AB- :^) it's a rare blood type in the united states which makes his blood very attractive to a lot of vamps which is kind of a bummer for them since heavenly is one of the best vampire hunters in the united states. but also he likes getting his blood sucked so if the vampires would just ask him nicely instead of attacking him they would have a much better shot at getting a taste of that

💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

heavenly is a pretty light sleeper but can very easily fall right back asleep when he's been woken up by something. he tends to sleep throughout most of the morning, wakes up for some lunch/dinner type meal, goes back to bed to take a nap and then spends most of the night up and moving either on a job or running errands and such. sometimes a job will take him into the early morning hours and then he tends to stay up to get some breakfast, and then he will sleep from late morning to early evening instead

🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

heavenly drinks a lot more than he probably should but doesn't smoke because it makes him nauseous. he doesn't like beer or wine so he never touches any of that but he likes cocktails a lot :^) or a good old cola and rum or some other mixed drink. he rarely drinks strong liquors straight from the bottle but if he had to pick something it would be vodka to give his brain a reset

🍝 SPAGHETTI — what is/are your oc's favorite food(s)?

heavenly loves a good stir fry or some really good pasta. adds entirely too much cheese and garlic on almost everything he eats. absolutely addicted to garlic bread. would probably put hot sauce on most things as well and also loves tossing pineapple through meals. he's got interesting eating habits but it's essentially all his comfort foods mixed into one and it fucks severely every single time

🤒 FACE WITH THERMOMETER — does your oc get sick easily?

heavenly gets sick pretty regularly but usually nothing more than a common cold and he gets over it pretty fast as well. it's mostly due to him being outside a lot especially at night and he's not always properly dressed for the occasion because he never checks the weather forecast

💍 RING — does your oc have any piercings? do they want any (more) piercings?

isaac has an earring in his left ear! he rarely wears it anymore but will occasionally put it in again for special occasions :^) he hasn't actively thought about getting more piercings but if he would think about it he would spin around the idea of getting his nipples pierced for entirely too long. baby girl you are a priest

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

isaac has asthma, recurring sciatica in his right leg, and autism. he had hoped being a vampire would fix the first two problems but it has not :/ he's got medication for his asthma but never sees a doctor for the sciatica because it goes away on its own most of the time anyway. the autism is undiagnosed and i don't think he would be aware of it himself either but it's there alright trust me

🐶 DOG FACE — does your oc have any pets?

isaac does not have a pet right now but i'm planning on giving him a cat during the story events :^) cats usually don't mix well with vampires but this is a very brave little kitty who will not leave isaac alone so he has no choice but to adopt it

💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world?

i still don't have a name for isaac's bloodline but his bloodline has a couple of traits that make it unique. for starters, they're the most dangerous bloodline when feral because of their speed and how many victims they leave behind. their eyes go white entirely when they're feral which has something to do with their eyes adjusting to their surroundings so they can target victims easier. while they cannot transform into a bat or any other animal for that matter, they ARE capable of flight and also possess slight telekinetic powers :^)

[clovermunson]

@bookshelf-dust asked for:

📝notes from the upside down— send this + a character (and scenario if you want!) and i’ll write a little blurb for it (limited to ten nine eight spots) from my follower milestone celebration (now closed)

author’s note: first off, i just want to say thank you so much for requesting this!! i’m always looking for new opportunities to write for steve, and i’m always looking to further develop my writing capabilities. secondly, thank you for being the kindest, sweetest person ever and commenting on my writings, i love it so much <33

pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, fluff, and more fluff. established relationship. soft boyfriend steve. mentions of food. steve and reader are 18+. (i think that’s it??)

The entire week had been hell on you, to say the least. But as far as you were convinced, even that was an understatement.

You pressed your back against the now-closed front door of your apartment, a sigh of relief escaping from your lips as you took a minute to just breathe and compose yourself.

“Tough day?” Steve’s voice had startled you, as you’d momentarily forgotten that you’d given him a key.

“More like…the worst week ever.” You drawled, pulling yourself away from the door. “What’re you doing here?”

You weren’t at all upset that Steve was there, given that you hadn’t been able to spend much time with him due to working long shifts and barely having time to eat and shower before going to bed when you got home. In fact, you were more than grateful that he’d stopped by, because you needed to see him.

“Wanted to surprise my girl.” Steve greeted you with a kiss to your forehead. “Did you get lunch today?”

“I had a lunch break…” you admitted. You’d meant to go and get a sandwich, or even treat yourself to some instant noodles that were in the break room— but that didn’t happen because you’d spent at least fifteen minutes of your break fixing someone else’s mistake at the cash register.

“Baby…” Steve shook his head, tutting. He took a second to think before leading you to the couch, making you sit down and take a break. “Sit here, and I’ll make you dinner, alright?”

“Steve, I—” you started to protest, only for him to dismiss it by waving his hands.

“Nah-uh. No arguments. No ifs, ands, or buts.” Steve looked at you, his arms crossed before he snapped his fingers, knowing exactly what to do. “I’ll make my chicken alfredo, it’s your favorite, right?”

You nodded, but you still didn’t expect Steve to go through the trouble for you— even though you’d been with him for two years now.

“It’s settled.” Steve smiled, “I’ll make my famous chicken alfredo, and you’ll sit here and relax for a little bit.” He leaned down to place a kiss to the top of your head.

Before you knew it, Steve had been in the kitchen, already getting everything together for dinner. You watched in amazement as he skillfully moved about, almost graceful in a way.

After a few minutes, you’d finally found the strength to get up, and you made your way to the kitchen. You’d stopped for a moment when you saw Steve stirring the pasta, his focus entirely on making the perfect meal. You could smell the garlic bread baking in the oven, and it almost made your mouth water.

You quietly crept up behind Steve, carefully wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back.

“Thank you for making dinner.” You hummed, smiling to yourself.

“Anything for my girl.”

[casspurrjoybell-23]

LOST and FOUND - Chapter 11 - Part 4

*Warning Adult Content*

It was later in the evening and I was waiting for Jona to get home from work.

He said he wouldn't be home too late tonight but I was getting antsy.

It was around five pm when I heard his car pull into the driveway.

I could tell by the way his brakes squeaked.

He really needed to get that fixed.

As soon as I heard him opening the front door, I lit the candles on the dining room table.

He walked further into the house and spotted me right away.

He had a huge smile on his face.

"What's this, baby?"

I went to him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before guiding him over to the table.

"I got us dinner. I was going to lie and say I made it but I knew you wouldn't believe that. Just have a seat and I'll get the food."

He looked happy but a little shocked and I vowed to myself that I needed to do more nice things for him, so he wouldn't be so surprised like this.

He sat down while I went into the kitchen and dished the pasta I ordered and picked up onto two plates.

I put the garlic bread on a plate as well and brought the food out to the table.

Jona continued to smile and I said...

"One more thing."

I ran and got the champagne from the fridge and brought it back to the table.

"Um," I said.

"You'll have to open it because I'm a little scared."

He chuckled.

"Champagne? Really? What's the special occasion?"

I gave him a shy smile.

"I can't treat my man to something special for no reason?"

I sat down. He took the bottle from me and popped it open.

I shrieked a little and he laughed.

He began pouring us both glasses as he said...

"I guess you can. I'm just surprised."

I took a sip of my champagne and watched him as he took a drink of his.

"We didn't toast to anything," he said. I smiled.

"That's okay."

I then played with Harrison's ring that I was now wearing on a chain around my neck.

Jona's eyes went to it right away.

He looked like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should.

Instead of speaking, he looked at the food in front of him and said,...

"You got our favorite."

"Hmm," I said with a wide smile.

He started digging into the food and I began eating as well, barely taking my eyes off him.

I played with the ring a lot.

I had gone to a store in the mall and picked out a chain that went well with it and I was happy with the way it looked.

I wished Jona had said something but I understood why he thought it might be a touchy subject.

It was hard for me to eat because of what I planned to do.

I didn't know how to go about it and it was making me extremely nervous.

"This is so good," Jona said as he continued eating.

He must have noticed that I was picking at my food because he gave me a curious look.

"Is everything okay?" he asked and I nodded.

"It's perfect."

I stared at him and he stared at me.

Suddenly I blurted out...

"I love you, Jona."

I put my fingers to my lips, nervously playing with them after I said it.

After reading Harrison's letter, I knew I needed to tell him that.

I had been putting it off for so long.

Almost believing that if I told Jona how I felt then I would somehow be betraying Harrison but I knew how crazy that was now.

Jona was quiet for a moment and then he smiled widely.

"I know you do, baby."

I scowled and hit him and he laughed.

"And I love you too."

Then he grabbed my hand, becoming more serious and looking me right in the eyes.

"I loved you the first second I laid eyes on you."

I gasped a little, smiling tentatively.

"I knew I had to get to know you. I hadn't believed in love at first sight until I saw you. I knew you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. No relationship I have ever been in has ever felt as right as being with you does," he told me and my lip trembled.

"Beau, I'm not going to ask you now...I'm not going to ask you until I know you're ready but I am going to ask you to marry me. Would you like that?"

I bit my lip before nodding quickly.

"Yes."

I couldn't help the tears that fell down my cheeks.

Jona moved from his seat to wrap his arms around me.

He kissed my cheek and I moved my lips to his.

"Make love to me," I whispered.

"Please."

[strega-nono]

Bonus episode: Cordelia review

I promised some of my most dedicated and ravenous fans a review of Cordelia, the new hot spot in Cleveland that Patrick and I went to for my farewell dinner. I will admit now we committed the truly unforgivable sin of not photographing a single plate or drink, so this will *gasp* be only written descriptions of our experience!

We had a 7:15 reservation and when we arrived (after valeting $25, love East 4th ST), we were promptly seated. Our server was attentive but kind of…disoriented? I think dude was probably having a night, and everything was taken care of but there was def something going on there. We got a bottle of Lambert petit royal seyssel (basically non champagne region champagne) and our server seemed pretty relieved that he didn’t have to go through the passion play of tasting and possible rejection because I’ve had it before. Are many people at Cordelia ordering bottles from their well-considered (but a bit narrow in scope and somewhat overpriced) wine list and then dramatically spitting out the samples directly into the faces of well-meaning staff? Curious minds want to know!

We decided to do chef’s prixe fixe, which on the menu promised 6-7 courses but which our server promised was actually like 9-10 courses and dessert. He was correct! Before I get into coursing, I need to tell you that the tasting menu was so much food despite Cordelia serving shareable small plates that I was audibly moaning in pain by dessert course.

First course: carrot muhammara with a toasted hazelnut dukkah (think a punchier hummus with texture) served with grilled bread. Pretty good although not a real reach in ambition. Our servers brought us extra crackers unsolicited when they saw we had finished the bread and still had spread left, which was a great move.

Second course: Salty cucumbers, which were much better than the description would imply. I would describe this as an elemental tzatziki without the yogurt masking the idiosyncratic tang of the cucumbers and the bite of the garlic and dill. It was served with a salsa matcha which added great texture to the dish and also surprised me with how spicy it was. Very simple but well executed; my only thought is this felt more like a gray area between a garnish or palate cleanser and a full course.

Third course: Lardo simmered melon. I need to admit here that not only am I not a real meat aficionado but I also detest meat-fat-fruit combos like prosciutto and melon, which this dish is a clear play on. So for this I will defer to Patrick who said it was delicious and loved it. I thought it tasted like the melon and lardo were mashed together in a dirty gym sock and left to sweat on the sun. Again, Patrick said it was great and he is assuredly a better arbiter here.

4th course: Bologna salad on toast. This easiest way to describe this dish is that this is a creative riff on ‘nduja, which is an incredible spreadable spicy salami. This dish worked in every regard; the toast provided the perfect vessel for the bologna spread, the pickled eggs softened the richness of the meat and provided needed acid, and the relish added a zippy finish that elevated the umami of the bologna. This was one of our faves and a good example of what Cordelia wants to do: telling a whimsical story using southern food.

Fifth course: Lam-burger Helper. Again, this is Cordelia nailing their specific lane with a unique angle on nostalgia. Another high point was this play on hamburger helper, the ubiquitous 90s pantry stable that promised all you needed was ground hamburger and the box would take care of the rest. This take with lamb married paparadelle as the vehicular noodle with an unctuous cheesy squash sauce, punctuated with bursts of bright green pistachio and olive. Defiantly rich and explosive, this may have been my favorite of the night (but I am just a hole for pasta).

Sixth AND seventh courses: these are going together because they were served together, which makes sense given that this course was basically a burger and fries. The fries were Jojos, and all I need to say about them is that jojos are…fine. Like, it’s a giant potato wedge fry. Unless something goes horribly wrong they are generally serviceable. I was disappointed with these just because they are so anodyne and so little was done to make them unique or dynamic, but they were fine. The burger-served in 4 pull-apart sliders-was great, one of the better burgers I’ve had in a while. The kool aid pickles were perfect, a little pop of contrast and respite in an almost overwhelming savory pile. The burgers worked but like with the Jojos, unless your goal is to serve the BEST burger and fries that has ever collapsed American arteries OR unless your goal is to radically reinterpret the two into something memorable and unique, there’s not much to be done and here not much was. Good, safe choice.

8th and 9th courses: Sarsaparilla pork belly and burnt carrots. Similar vibes here to the last course but better executed. Pork belly had a MOMENT like 5, 6 years ago, in the way that burgers had a MOMENT 10 or so years ago. This is not me calling the menu dated or boring, just commenting on the fact that the two most traditional entree courses feature proteins and sides that are neither as creatively rich nor as classically exceptional as some of the earlier courses. In Cordelia’s defense, we were visibly bloated and struggling at this point so that could def impact my interest in the last couple of courses but both the carrots- served with a pistachio sauce and onion/tangerine- and the pork belly-which had a lovely caramelization- are well executed and tasty, but less exciting to me than some of the previous dishes.

Dessert course: Honeycomb hazelnut ice cream and a chocolate ganache brownie. I’m recreating this dessert best I can as I was basically catatonic at this point in the progression, but I remember thinking that I really enjoyed the honeycomb ice cream (real honeycomb adds amazing texture!) and the brownie was rich without being overpowering. However, I didn’t really see a REASON why they would be placed together save needed to stretch out a dessert course with incongruent choices. Both elements were good but the ice cream begged for something with a little acid or spice and the brownie needed some fruit or something similar to cut the richness.

Cordelia: 4 out of 5 forks. The space is gorgeous; the wallpaper looks like painted silk, which it probably is. There are inviting and warm elements throughout the space, and they pride themselves of their accessibility. They also validate valet parking for east 4th street, which was a cute lil surprise at the end of the meal.

Service was attentive and consistent, if a bit forced at times. Cordelia utilizes an all-hands model which ensures that all staff is able to present courses and offer support and recommendations throughout the meal.

The food is the only space where I have anything to quibble with. Like many new restaurants-particularly buzzy ones- Cordelia is still wrestling with what it wants to be. Does it want to serve nostalgia-tinged whimsy through creative applications? Does it want to fall into the New Southern wave that’s proven successful in the last decade? Does it just want to do ingredient-focused farm to table, locavore stuff really well? I will concede that there were several dishes on the standard menu that looked much more appealing and genuinely interesting than what we had on the chefs tasting, but thems the breaks. On a chefs tasting, you get what the chef wants you to try, especially at 8 pm on a winter Tuesday. The high points for me were the small moments of wonder and delight in viewing food through a lens of meandering interpretation, not rote execution. Cordelia is definitely worth trying (and please try more of the breads and veggies, they look luscious!) but what’s holding this new hometown favorite back is a dedication to loosening the reins and letting go of the railing.

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

a wonderful way to

decompress

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Nanami Kento x chubby fem reader ɞ

❥ Word Count: 7.7k

❥ CW: fluff, smut, consensual voyeurism, masturbation, sex toys, safe word, safe word usage, oral (female receiving), spitting, praise, penetration, breeding kink, sweet aftercare

❥ A/N: hellooooo my little ducklings! Yall better start callin me butter bc I was on a ROLL when I wrote this. I'm very pleased with how it turned out. I tried going through and fixing things up, but I'm sure there are still plenty of mistakes so please bear with me sksksk. Just a couple notes:

There is safe word usage, but it's not bc the situation is triggering or anything. It's just casual usage to take a break, so don't worry about that 😊

There is breeding kink, but it's implied that the reader is on birth control so although they do talk about it in the heat of the moment, they aren't actually planning on having children. I just wanted to make sure that was completely clear before yall jumped into this

ANYWAYS, i hope yall enjoy 😊💕

You knew Nanami had a rough day the minute he walked into your shared apartment.

Well, to be fair, you already knew he was having a hard time when you texted him about dinner and he replied telling you to start without him.

“I’m going to be late,” he had said in his text.

You knew it was bad when he had to work overtime. So, to try and ease the frustration he felt during the day, you made one of his favorite pasta dishes, making a delicious loaf of garlic bread using one of the baguettes he bought the other day. It wasn’t much, but you hoped it would brighten his mood once he came home.

You didn’t realize how bad his day had been until you heard the door open and slam shut.

“Y/N?” he called from the front of the apartment.

“In the kitchen,” you yelled back, scrubbing the dishes you had used to make dinner. You heard his shoes drop to the floor, his feet padding over the hardwood as he made his way down the hall to you. You glanced over your shoulder, smiling as he entered the kitchen. “Hey hun—mm!”

His lips were on yours in an instant, large hands cupping your face as he kissed you tenderly. You moaned softly, keeping your hands in the sink, trying to avoid touching him while they were still wet. You returned his kiss, letting him mold his lips with yours, pushing yourself onto your tiptoes to meet him easier.

He pulled away after a moment, pressing his forehead to yours. The two of you panted softly, and you smiled gently up at him.

“Welcome home,” you whispered, giggling when he kissed you again. You pulled away this time, much to his dismay. “I’d love to continue, Ken, but you really need to eat.”

He grunted, pressing a kiss to your temple before letting you go, moving to the oven and opening it.

“You made garlic bread,” he stated, grabbing an oven mitt and pulling out the tray that it sat on.

“I did,” you replied, placing the now clean plate on the drying rack and turning off the water, shaking the excess off your hands. “I also made pasta.”

He hummed, lifting the lid of the pan, smiling down at the dish.

“It looks delicious,” he mumbled, opening the cabinet and retrieving a plate of his own, scooping some pasta on top. You dried off your hands, coming up behind him and snaking your hands around his waist, pressing yourself into his back.

“Would you like some wine?” you asked, smiling when you felt his body shake from his gentle chuckle.

“Wine sounds lovely.”

You retrieved a bottle (you didn’t know much about it, but you knew it paired nicely with savory dishes), bringing it to Nanami at the dining room table along with a glass.

“Thank you, dear,” he hummed, taking the bottle from you before kissing the back of your hand. You smiled at him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before you took a seat beside him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Mm. Not really,” he replied, filling his glass before looking back at you. “I’d prefer if you told me about your day.”

A distraction, you thought, smiling again before you began to speak. You told him about all the little details of your day, how the cashier at the store was so kind and how a kid stared at you in the produce section. You mentioned going to the park and returning a book to the library, and then described how you made dinner and enjoyed the spare time in your day. His expression hadn’t changed, but you knew that hearing you talk was helping him decompress.

“And that was about it,” you drifted off as he finished his wine. He nodded gently as he took his last bite of pasta, wiping his napkin over his mouth.

“Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful.”

“Of course,” you cooed, standing up, taking his dishes from him. He watched you move back to the kitchen, eyes trailing over you before he sighed deeply, standing up.

“What’re you doing, honey?” you asked innocently, knowing full well what his intentions were as he came up behind you, running his hands over your hips.

“Just admiring you,” he mumbled into your neck, hands gliding up your sides, sneaking up your oversized shirt.

“Is that so?” you replied, turning on the sink to clean his dishes. He turned off the faucet just as you grabbed the soap.

“You don’t have to do that, darling.”

“Oh? You want me to leave dirty dishes in the sink?” You gasped when he palmed your stomach, squeezing the fat of it in his strong hands.

“I’d prefer you do something else.”

“Hmm, and what would that be?” you asked, pushing your ass back into his crotch, already feeling something push firmly back. He kissed up your neck, reaching your ear, his breath making you shiver.

“I want you to go to the bedroom and get yourself comfortable.” His hands smoothed over your stomach and waist, making you moan softly. “I’d like to watch you for a bit.”

Ah. So it was one of those nights.

“Must’ve been a really bad day, huh?” you teased, craning your neck to look back at him. He sighed.

“You have no idea.” He kissed your temple, squeezing your love handles. “Go get ready for me. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

You couldn’t help but giggle giddily, excited for what was to come.

“Okay,” you said softly, cupping the side of his face and kissing him gently. He returned the kiss, but only for a moment, pulling away and patting your ass gently.

“Go on. I’ll join you in a minute.”

You giggled again, skipping off the bedroom. He watched you go, sighing before he removed his jacket, rolling up his sleeves.

He cleaned the dishes quickly, setting them down in the drying rack, drying off his hands. He felt his pulse quicken as he picked up his suit jacket, draping it over his arm, putting his opposite hand in his pocket before leisurely walking to the bedroom. He favored drawing these things out, enjoying the build up of anticipation with each step.

You had closed the door, which he preferred. It made the scenario feel a bit more genuine, as if you weren’t expecting him to walk in at any moment and find you. He took a deep breath, hand resting on the doorknob, turning it slowly and pushing the door open.

He was greeted by the most delectable sight. There you were, nude, draped over several pillows as you leaned back on the bed. Your curves and rolls were on display, your hands roaming over your skin, a smile playing on your lips.

God, he loved you.

“Hello darling,” he greeted as he entered the room, already feeling his cock stir the longer he stared at you.

“Hi Ken,” you cooed, gasping as your hands found your breasts, squeezing the mounds of fat. Nanami approached the bed, watching you intensely as you pinched your nipples, rolling the hardened buds between your fingertips before tugging. He stifled a groan when you moaned.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he mumbled, begrudgingly moving to the closet to hang up his coat.

“I am.”

“Good.” He hung his jacket up in the walk in closet, coming back into the room, loosening his tie. “You deserve to enjoy yourself, darling.”

You moaned louder at that, arching your back into your hands, moving them down your sides. He watched you as he walked to the dresser, taking off his watch and placing it on top as he stared at you. His glasses were next, revealing his narrow but fervid eyes. He removed his tie completely, eyes locked on your hands as they found your hips, gripping your muffin top and dragging your fingers over your flesh. He bit his tongue, folding his tie onto the dresser before he walked past the bed, to the other side of the room.

“You’re comfortable?”

“Mm-hmmm,” you drew out, your moans breathy and sweet. He felt his cock twitch at the sound.

He popped the button of his collar, picking up the large, solid wooden chair by the window, carrying it with one hand to the edge of the bed. He smirked when you bit your lip. He knew you liked it when he showed off his true strength.

“You remember our safe word?” he asked, setting the chair down right in front of the bed, straightening it out.

“Merlot,” you sighed, eyes closing as you dug your fingers into your thighs.

“Good,” he whispered, standing up straight, taking a moment to admire you. “You’re so beautiful.”

You giggled, turning your face to the side, waving your hand at him.

“Oh, you.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, smiling as he moved around the chair, taking a seat. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes turning dark.

“Whenever you’re ready, dear.”

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, running your hands down your thighs. Your fingers grazed your skin, barely touching your legs as you reached your knees, gripping them tightly. Kento was watching you intensely, hands clasped in front of him, eyes focused solely on you. He had the same look on his face that many men had when they were watching a soccer game: focused, invested, eager for the outcome.

You decided not to tease him, knowing that he had a rough day and deserved to decompress and relax, and what better way to do that than to watch you play with yourself?

You spread your legs apart slowly, forcing them as wide as they would go, smiling when you heard him breathe deeply. You loved how such a simple action could have this much of an effect on him. Your fingers moved down your inner thighs, occasionally gripping the delicate flesh before you moved down to your cunt.

And now for the main event.

You slipped your hand down your front, palming at the fatty mound above your pussy. You pulled it taut before smoothing it flat, repeating the action once more before dipping your middle finger further. It slipped between your folds, moving down to your entrance, collecting a small amount of slick before tracing back up.

You slipped your ring finger down between your lips as well, pushing your chubby labia apart to show your cunt to your boyfriend. You felt a wave of heat flow through you when he sighed shakily, his face neutral but his fingers twitching slightly. Your fingers went back to your entrance, collecting more slick before the two digits went to your clit, circling it slowly.

“Ah~” you sighed, grateful for the pressure now added to your sex. Your eyes blinked slowly as you started touching yourself, rubbing the pearl between your legs at a generous pace, not too fast and not too slow. Your gaze fell on Nanami, lips curling when you saw him lean back in his chair, his knuckles pressed against his mouth.

The giggle that fell from your lips made him inhale sharply. God, he was so weak for you. All you had done so far was touch yourself in his presence and his cock was already throbbing, desperate to slip inside your tight cunt and fill you up. He’d get to that, eventually, but he was still tense from his workday. He wanted to relax and enjoy your little show before he finally joined you.

You sped up your movements, voice hitching as your pleasure began to build. Swiping your fingers over your clit, your back began to arch, feet digging into the mattress. You could see the anticipation on your boyfriend’s face: that sweet, yearning expression that made you feel like a goddess. You slowed your pace again, catching your breath as you saw his body sag a little.

Finally, you thought, draping your opposite arm over your head, hand tucking behind one of the pillows. He’s starting to relax a bit.

“Did you miss me today, Ken?” you asked, your words dripping like honey from your soft lips. He ran his hand over his mouth, eyes glancing up to meet yours.

“Of course I did. I always miss you.”

Your pussy clenched at that, and, based on the small smile playing at his lips, he definitely noticed it.

“Mmm, how much did you miss me?” Your fingers dipped back down your cunt, spreading your slick around your entrance, dragging it up and down your lips. He watched as you coated your pussy in your juices, sighing when you started circling your clit again.

“I missed you a lot. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You moaned softly, biting your lip as your fingers moved faster.

“What did you miss about me, baby?” Nanami huffed, resting his cheek against his fist.

“I missed your smile,” he started, smiling when he saw the flustered look you gave him, curling into yourself. “I missed your voice… I missed your body.”

“What parts of my body?” you pressed, clenching your pillow, gasping at the jolt of electricity that ran through you. You heard him curse softly through the haze.

“I missed your hips… your breasts… your thighs,” he murmured, his eyes darting to each body part as he listed them, drinking you in as you flicked your clit faster.

“Did you miss my pussy, Ken~to~?” you sang, rolling your hips up into your hand.

“Obviously.”

“Hmmm, what did you miss about it?”

Jeez, you weren’t making this easy on him. He blinked, smirking slowly as the thought of teasing you burrowed it’s way into his brain.

“I missed your cute clit and your pretty pussy lips. I missed watching you play with yourself while you think of me.”

He chuckled when your legs closed around your hand, fingers speeding up momentarily just to slow down again. He loved when you teased your cunt for him.

“Did you miss how I taste?” you asked hopefully, batting your eyelashes innocently. You couldn’t help but smile when he let a small groan slip, his fingers pressed against his temple.

“I did.”

You squealed at that, falling into a fit of giggles, biting your lip as you met his gaze again. He was smiling tenderly at you, clearly amused with your excited response. Jesus, you loved him so much it made you want to scream.

You spread your legs again, trying to give him a better look at your soaked cunt. Your chubby lips hid most of your pussy from him, but you knew he loved that about you. He once said that spreading your pussy lips was like ‘opening a present on Christmas morning’, so you knew he didn’t mind that you weren’t completely visible.

“You know,” you started, tilting your head slightly, “you could always have a taste, since you missed me so badly and all.”

This was one of the best parts of your little game: tempting him. Kento was a stoic, strong-willed man, but even he had his weaknesses, and one of those weaknesses was you trying to seduce him. It was like a test to see if he still had enough self-control to resist you in your most vulnerable states. For the most part, he was able to keep his cool and keep his hands off of you, but sometimes…

“I’m alright for now,” he smiled, sitting up and crossing his legs. “I appreciate the offer, though.”

Damn. Seems like you wouldn’t be able to break him that easily. What a shame.

“Well, if you’re not going to eat my pussy,” you began, removing your hand from your cunt and reaching to your side, “then I guess I’ll use the next best thing.”

Nanami took a deep breath as he saw you hold up the toy. He had bought it for you on your last birthday, hoping that it would be able to please you when he wasn’t able to. He was worried you wouldn’t like it at first, but when you first used the clit sucker with him, you came within thirty seconds. He ended up overstimulating you that night, holding your hips down and keeping the toy firmly against you as you cried and begged for a break.

At the end of the day, it was worth the money, an exceptional investment in his eyes. He was delighted to see you using it now during your little show for him.

You turned on the toy, smiling when the power button lit up. You brought the suction head to your cunt, finding your clit, gasping loudly when the air pulsations began stimulating you. This was your favorite toy by far, and you knew Nanami enjoyed it just as much. He loved watching you twitch and wiggle and squirm under it’s ministrations, pushing you closer to the edge faster than any of your other toys could.

The whine that left the back of your throat made Nanami’s cock ache. Watching you like this was a guilty pleasure of his, and you were so sweet for humoring him and his sexual desires. His hand found the armrest of the chair, thumb rubbing firm circles into the swirled wood, imagining that he was toying with your clit instead.

You’d get to that point eventually. For now, he was satisfied with just watching your toes curl and hips buck up towards your hand.

“F-Fuck,” you moaned, pushing your head back into the pillows, curling your hips towards the toy in your hand. You increased the speed, squeaking when the suctions became more powerful.

“Does it feel good, darling?” You scoffed, meeting Kento’s gaze, biting your lip when you saw the intense look he was giving you.

“Yes,” you whined, rolling your hips towards your hand as you increased the toy’s speed again. You moaned as you slid down the sheets, sinking further into the pile of pillows you had created.

You couldn’t help looking at Nanami when you masturbated like this. There was just so much about him that turned you on: his eyes, his jawline, his rough hands, his muscular forearms. Even fully dressed, seeing him like this made your skin burn, your cunt twitching as your pleasure rose.

“It would feel better with you, though,” you mumbled between moans, feeling your climax edge closer. His low hum made you quiver, your body jiggling with each jolt. You knew he loved seeing your body shake like that, so you didn’t hold back, avoiding the urge to tense up and keep still so you didn’t cause any stares.

“We’ll get there, dear,” he reassured, rubbing his finger over his lips, sighing deeply as he drank up every small action you made. The way your breasts bounced as your back arched swiftly, the twitching in your thick thighs as you turned up the toy again: these little details made you all the more alluring, making it hard for him to hold back.

“K-Ken,” you stuttered out, hand clasping at the sheets. God, the noises you made were so delicious, sweeter than any wine he had ever tried. He loved getting drunk off of the sound of you, your moans and whines and pleas for him to just ­fuck you already.

“You’re close, aren’t you, dear?” You whimpered, nodding quickly, eyes squeezed shut as you concentrated on the feeling between your legs. The throbbing between his own limbs was starting to bother him, so he palmed himself lazily, hoping a hint of pressure would hold him off a bit more. “Go on, darling. Cum for me.”

Your orgasm hit you suddenly, eyes shooting wide as fireworks went off beneath your skin. The electricity flew from your cunt to the rest of your body, causing you to writhe against the sheets. You moaned loudly, your pitch higher than you intended, piercing the now humid air of your bedroom. Your pleasure lasted for a few moments before it fizzled out, leaving you wet and desperate. You turned the clit sucker down a few levels before removing it from your cunt, giving yourself a moment to breathe.

“Feeling alright?” he asked, a slight lift to his voice, glad that just his presence had this effect on you. You moaned weakly in response, nodding your head, barely processing the hum that he gave in return. “Good. Now, turn the toy back up to the level you were at.”

You whimpered softly, eyes blinking at him slowly.

“Aren’t you going to join me?”

“I will in time. I want to watch you cum again.”

You pouted, but complied, keening when the suction of the toy stimulated your clit once again.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but your first orgasm had quickly turned into two which then melted into three and four and now, even after your fifth climax of the night, Nanami showed no signs of breaking.

“Keeeennn,” you whined, feeling your eyes water a bit as your clit throbbed almost painfully.

“Yes dear?” he replied a bit too calmly for your taste, making you grow agitated.

“I-I want you, baby. Please, just… just fuck me, Ken.” He hummed softly, pretending to consider your offer.

“Not yet.” He couldn’t hide the sinister smirk on his lips as you whined unhappily.

“Why not?” Nanami sighed, rubbing his hand along his thigh, avoiding the obvious tent in his pants.

“I’m still enjoying the show.” You groaned angrily, your sounds of disapproval turning into needy whines as the clit sucker kept going.

“But doesn’t it hurt, Ken? Doesn’t your cock a-ache? I-I can make that feeling go away and make you feel sooo good, baby—”

“I know you can,” he interrupted, folding his hands over his lap, “and you will, but in a moment.”

You whimpered, frustrated with how pitiful you sounded. You had expected him to join you after your third orgasm, but now that you were reaching your sixth, you weren’t sure if you could take much more. A pressure was building inside of you uncomfortably, making you feel like you were going to explode in the worst possible way.

“Sh… sh-shit, fuck, m-merlot, merlot!” you rushed out, pulling the toy away from your sex and turning it off, legs shutting automatically. Nanami’s body tensed as he sat up, preparing to rush to you.

“Are you—”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, holding up your hand while the other rubbed over your face. Your boyfriend stayed in his seat, still worried. “I’m fine, I just…” You sighed, pushing yourself up, leaning back on your hands as you looked at him. “I gotta pee.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you giggled, causing him to join you, your laughter filling the quiet room. Your snickers subsided after a moment and you moaned tiredly, rolling onto your stomach and then back, legs finding the floor. You stood up slowly, your stance a bit wobbly as you walked to the bathroom.

“Just gimme a sec,” you called out to him, turning the light on and closing the door, leaving it slightly ajar.

“Take your time,” he yelled back, still smiling at the small interaction between the two of you. He waited patiently in his chair, tracing over the carvings in the wood before he heard the toilet flush, the faucet turning on and then off. You walked out, turning off the light as you trudged to the bed.

“Good news is I don’t have to pee anymore and I cleaned myself up.” Your leaned your hands against the bed, looking towards him. “The bad news is that I had to wipe up half of my slick and I’m not nearly as wet anymore.” Nanami scoffed, shaking his head before smiling at you.

“Well, then I guess you’re going to have to get yourself wet again, huh?” You groaned, hanging your head before crawling back onto the king size bed.

“Ken, I know you had a bad day and I wanna make you forget about it, but I’m getting really tired and my pussy needs a nap.”

“Would you like to stop for the night?”

“No,” you pouted, plopping yourself onto your stomach, nuzzling up to the pile of pillows you created. “I just want to make you cum already so we can go to bed.”

He didn’t respond, and after a minute of waiting, you sighed loudly.

“Jeez, you’re so ridiculous sometimes.” You brought yourself up onto your knees, pushing up your ass as you reached for the clit sucker. “You and your fucking voyeurism are gonna be the death of me.”

You kept it on the lowest setting as you turned it on, clenching around nothing once you pressed the head against your clit. You moaned into the pillow, gripping it tightly as you pushed back on the toy, already increasing the speed.

You were so caught up in your own pleasure that you couldn’t hear the shuffle of clothes behind you, couldn’t feel the bed weigh down, didn’t realize how close Nanami was until his tongue was prodding at your entrance.

“Hah!” you squealed loudly, almost falling flat on your stomach. His hands found your hips, keeping you up on your knees as he pushed his tongue into you, swirling it over your walls. You felt your body start to tense, your cunt clenching around his tongue, eager to cum once again.

He pulled away before you could get anywhere near your peak, taking the clit sucker from your hand and turning it off, tossing it on the bed. You panted, trying to process what had happened when he suddenly flipped you over, your back falling onto the pile of pillows.

There was your boyfriend, naked, his body looking like a sculpture of a Greek god. His arm and leg muscles were obvious even when he wasn’t flexing, his torso carved into the shape of a triangle. His abs weren’t terribly pronounced (he kept himself well fed and healthy), but his iliac furrows were deep, dipping down to show his cock standing at attention. Just looking over him had your cunt leaking. How did you get so lucky as to find someone like him?

“K-Ken—mm!” His lips smashed into yours, hands trailing over your body as he kissed you. You moaned into his mouth, hands finding his hair, combing through the soft blonde strands. His tongue pushed into your mouth once he cupped your breasts, squeezing them firmly as you licked your slick off of him.

“Hmmm… Ken,” you whined as he pulled away, kissing over your cheek and jaw before moving down to your neck. He licked over your pulse, panting into your ear as he nibbled along your throat. “F-Fuck, Ken~”

“Yes darling?” he asked casually, as if he wasn’t kissing down to your breasts, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking.

“Sh-Shit, Ken, fuck!” You gripped his hair tightly, your other hand gripping onto his shoulder as he molded your tits in his hands, eyes locked on you as he sucked you into his mouth. He released your nipple with a ‘pop’ a moment later, moving on to the other one, slurping it into his mouth. He sucked on the other one until it hardened in his mouth, soon letting it go and moving down to your stomach.

Your instincts told you to push him away and hide yourself, still a bit insecure despite your confidence, but he never let you do such things. His hands squeezed over your waist, savoring the way the fat of your stomach squished under the weight of his fingers. Your skin was so soft against his rough hands, almost like silk or velvet, leaving him breathless.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled before kissing your tummy, hands moving to palm at your hips as he left kisses along your lower stomach. Your cunt clenched with each gentle touch of his lips, his eyes burning into you as he stared at your expressions. Your hips twitched when he flicked his tongue over your sensitive tummy, and he chuckled at the bashful look you gave him.

“You’re so cute,” he murmured as he kissed over your mound, humming as he pressed his nose into the fatty tissue above your cunt. He nuzzled his forehead into your tummy, rubbing his cheek over the hairs on your pubic area. You wanted to shove him, say something snarky that might egg him on and get him to fuck you already, but his grip was so sweet and tender that all you could do was melt in his grasp.

Nanami moved further down the bed, lying on his stomach, situating himself right in front of your cunt. His large hands found your thighs, squeezing a handful of each before he pushed them back, making you moan in surprise. His forearms pushed into the back of your thighs, keeping them up as his hands moved to your pussy.

This was his favorite part. He ran his thumb over your chubby pussy lips, pushing up and tugging back the fat at the top of your cunt, flattening out your lips before releasing his hold and letting them bounce back to place. He smirked, doing this once again as he licked over his lips.

His cock throbbed against the bed as he hooked his thumbs over your lips, pulling them apart to reveal your pretty cunt to him. His heart pounded as he looked at your clit, eyes skimming down to your soaked entrance, watching it clench hopelessly as it tried to suck something in.

You were just so pretty; he couldn't resist having a proper taste.

He licked a stripe from entrance to clit, the flat of his tongue picking up your slick and spreading it around your cunt. Your resulting moan was so precious that he unintentionally ground his hips into the bed.

“You taste so sweet, Y/N," he murmured against your lips, eyes fixed on you. You smiled sheepishly, shrugging.

"I mean... I did eat a lot of fruit today." He let out a satisfied hum, nosing at your mound, pressing a kiss to your pussy lips.

"Good girl."

He smirked when you tried to hold back your moan, your hips curling towards him, your cunt eager to be touched. He chuckled softly, the vibrations stimulating your clit, making you whine.

He decided to stop teasing, flicking his tongue over your clit, watching for your reaction. He swirled around the hard bud, digging his fingers into your stomach when you mewled wantonly, hands finding his hair and tugging gently. He sighed, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking generously.

"F-Fuck!" Your stomach tightened at the sensation, body twitching as he kept his mouth on you. You couldn't keep your eyes open as he ate your cunt. His eyes were locked on you, making you self conscious and embarrassed, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut or look away. He pinched your nipple a bit hard, making you whine unhappily.

"Look at me, Y/N," he demanded, licking your juices off his lips. You resisted at first, keeping your head turned to the side, but his teeth dug into the fatty mound above your pussy and you were forced to meet his gaze. His eyes softened when they met yours, mouth releasing your flesh before he moved back to your lips.

"That's better," he mumbled, finding your clit again and giving it a harsh suck. Your body jolted, causing you to tug his hair a bit harder than you intended. The resulting moan that fell from his lips sent vibrations over your pussy, sparks of heat erupting in your core.

"Fuck, Ken, please I—shit—"

"What's the matter, dear?" he asked, feigning ignorance as he licked down to your entrance, slurping up the liquid gold spilling out of you.

"Fuck, d-don't tease me, Ken. Please, I just—I just want you inside me already."

Nanami groaned softly, collecting his saliva before spitting on your cunt, causing you to twitch. He loved how his split made your pussy glisten, almost glittering in the gentle light of the bedroom.

"You want me that badly, darling?" he cooed, licking up your cunt again, tongue flicking over your clit once more. You keened, back arching, pushing his face further into your cunt. He growled against your pussy, making you tremble.

"Please Ken, don't make me wait any longer. I want you to fuck me already. I want your cock inside me and I want you to fuck me and—"

"Now now," he muttered, propping himself on his elbows before pushing himself up. "There's no need to beg, dearest. I'm flattered by it, but it's not necessary."

He kissed your knee, hands trailing over your thighs as he crept between your legs. He used his thumb to wipe your slick off his mouth, sucking the digit clean before his lips pressed into yours.

You moaned gratefully, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him into you. Your tongues danced as he massaged your hip, stroking his cock before bringing it to your cunt.

He pulled back so he could see what he was doing, running the head of his cock over your soaked folds. You moaned softly each time he brushed over your clit, biting your lip as he pressed his cock to your entrance.

"Ready?" he asked, making sure you were completely comfortable before he continued. You nodded quickly, spreading your legs wider, pushing your hips closer to his. He huffed, smiling softly. "Eager, aren't you?"

"Kento Nanami, if you don't put your cock in me right now, I'll—a-ah!"

His cock was pushing into you, filling you so deliciously that you couldn't even finish your empty threat. You arched into him, head falling back on the pillows as you moaned.

"That's it," he panted, slowly entering you, thrusting shallowly so you could adjust to his size. "Doing so well, such a good girl for me—shit, you're tight—"

You shivered as the head of his cock brushed against your g-spot, hands gripping his shoulders as his hips met yours. His cock wasn't monstrous by any means, but good god, it was still a lot to handle. He kissed over your face as you got used to his size, hands smoothing over your sides as your breathing slowed.

"Feeling alright?" You nodded, your legs wrapping around his waist. He groaned softly, pressing his forehead to yours. "Good, because I don't think I can hold back any longer."

"Then don't," you replied quickly, giving him a flirtatious smile. He blinked, chuckling gently at your retort.

"Oh, believe me," he began, hands digging into the meat of your hips, "I wasn't planning to."

The first thrust was somewhat timid, testing the waters to see how you would react. You gasped lightly, mouth hanging open as your hands splayed out over his shoulder blades, pushing him down into you. The second thrust was much harder, his cock almost pulling out completely before slamming back into you, grazing your cervix.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried out, holding onto him tightly as he began a punishing pace, thrusting into you quickly. He sure wasn't lying when he said he wasn't going to hold back, but did you really want him to?

"Jesus, Y/N, you feel so good, fuck—"

You mewled beneath him, biting your lip as you braced yourself, trying to stay composed even as he pounded into your cunt. You weren't succeeding at all, but at least you tried.

"Sh-Shit, K-K-Ken! Fuck, Ken, yes—"

"You're so good for me, Y/N, so fucking good. God, I love you—"

His lips found your neck, leaving sloppy kisses over your searing skin. He bit down closer to your shoulder, sucking your skin into his mouth, determined to leave a hickey behind. You moaned loudly, fingers digging into his back, trying to hold tight.

His hands were gripping your hips so tightly that you were worried you would bruise. If that did end up happening, you were sure he'd feel awful about it, but in all honesty you loved the marks he left behind on you. You loved seeing the love bites and hand prints and remembering how he fucked you the night before. They were little reminders taped to your flesh, sending sparks of arousal straight to your cunt every time you saw them in the mirror.

"Hah!" His cock brushed against your g-spot just right, making your walls tighten around him. He slowed for a moment, panting as he moved your legs, hooking your knees over his shoulders. He thrust into you again, smirking when your eyes rolled back and you clenched around him harder.

"Is this better, dear?" he asked breathlessly, going back to his rough pace before you could answer. Your moans grew louder, raising in pitch as he nudged against your sweet spot with every thrust.

"Fuck, Ken, don't stop! F-Feels so good, fuck, feels so good—"

"You're so pretty, Y/N," he sighed, bringing a hand to cup your cheek, the other palming at your breast. "My sweet girl, you're always so good for me—shit, I don't deserve you—"

You mewled, nails dragging along his back, surely leaving marks of your own. For a man who claimed he didn't praise people, he sure did let it flow from his lips like a faucet.

You could never complain, though. You loved the praise he gave you, especially in the bedroom, especially during moments like this.

"You're so perfect, darling. I'm so lucky to have you. I don't know what you see in me but God I'm glad that you chose me over everyone else—"

You could never understand how he thought he was the lucky one in this relationship, but his words shot through you, your cunt throbbing with need. Fuck, you were getting close again—

"Ken," you whined, cupping his face, pressing your forehead to his. "I want you to cum with me. Please, I need it, I need you, I—"

His lips pressed into yours, drinking up the last of your pleas as he somehow fucked you faster, chasing his own orgasm. You moaned loudly into him, hands tangling in his hair as his roamed your body, squeezing every inch he could. You grabbed a handful of the blonde strands and tugged gently, your cunt tightening when he groaned deep in his throat.

"You're so fucking perfect, Y/N," he breathed as he pulled away, kissing over your face and neck. "You're so gorgeous and sweet and kind—God, and your cunt is fucking divine, Jesus Christ—"

"Shit, Ken! Fuck me harder, I'm close, fuck, I want you to cum in me, please cum in me—"

"Do you want me to fill you up, baby? Do you want me to fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?"

"Yes, fuck!" You squeezed your legs around him, mewling as his pelvic bone ground against your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your peak. "Fuck, wanna—wanna make you a daddy—"

"Shit," he snarled, taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging on it. His back stung from all the scratches you were leaving behind, but God did it make him throb.

"Fuck, c'mon Ken, cum in me please? Please, I-I wanna feel it, want it to drip o-out of me—oh my God, I'm gonna cum—"

"Anything you want, I'll give you," he panted, hands digging into your flesh, worried that if he didn't keep you flush against him then you would just disappear. "I'll do anything you want. You deserve it, you deserve everything, the whole world, shit—"

Your pussy began fluttering around him, your breath quickening, voice hitching as you climbed higher and higher until—

You moaned loudly as you came, your limbs tensing and pulling Kento flush to you. You shuddered as he kept fucking you, barely hearing him curse up a storm as he reached his own peak. He thrust once, twice more before he bottomed out, groaning into your neck as he came inside you. You writhed beneath him, feeling his cum seep into you, filling you to the brim as you came down from your high.

The two of you kept your limbs tangled around one another as you steadied your breathing, chests rising and falling as oxytocin settled in. Hands ultimately twitched, smoothing over the marks left behind on skin, massaging sore spots until the other moaned softly as 'thanks'. Nanami was the first to speak.

"Thank you, darling," he mumbled into your neck, kissing below your ear and humming softly. You couldn't help but smile, twirling his hair around your finger, drawing circles into the base of his skull.

"What're you thanking me for?"

"For doing this for me," he mumbled before kissing your neck. "And for tolerating me." Another kiss. "And for loving me." And another. You giggled as his tender kisses continued, peppering over your skin as your body shook with laughter.

"You don't have to thank me for those things, Ken." He hummed softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I know," his forehead nudged yours, eyes soft as they gazed down at you, "but I just want you to know that I'm grateful for you."

Your heart fluttered, lips curling unconsciously as your cupped his cheeks.

"I'm grateful for you too." He returned your smile, kissing your lips gently, passionately as he helped lower your legs to settle around his waist.

"Would you like a bath?" he asked when he pulled away, thumbs rubbing into your arms. You smiled, nodding. "Alright. Hold on."

"Wha—"

Nanami pulled your body flush to his, holding onto you as he got up on his knees, shuffling to the edge of the bed before he got up.

"Jesus, Ken! Put me down, I can walk—"

"I know," he interrupted, his hands locked underneath your ass, keeping you secure as he walked to the bathroom. "I just want to keep you close. Plus, I didn't want to make a mess on the bed by pulling out. You may not actually be able to get pregnant, but you can still make a mess."

"You're ridiculous," you grumbled, burying your face in his neck, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

"Only with you," he smiled, nudging you once you got to the bathroom. You caught on to his request, turning the bathroom light on for the two of you, letting him carry you to the bathtub. He stopped a foot away, gripping your thighs tightly before he lifted you off of his cock, hissing at the change in pressure.

You mewled softly, somewhat disappointed with the empty feeling his cock left behind. He helped you down to your feet slowly, making sure you could stand on your own before he leaned down and started the bath.

You leaned against the wall and watched your boyfriend put too much effort into a simple bath. He checked the water temperature several times, adding a floral soap to create bubbles, even going as far as to light a sweet smelling candle and place it on the sink counter. You let him continue his busy work, knowing that he wouldn't be satisfied unless he did all these little things.

He finally finished, turning off the water before turning to you, grabbing your hand. He held your hands as you stepped into the bathtub, crouching down as you settled into the warm water. You sighed happily, leaning back in the tub.

"Do you need anything?" he asked, crossing his arms over the edge of the tub.

"Hmmm... not really." He arched his brow.

"You hesitated." You pouted slightly, shrugging.

"I mean... I kind of want a snack..."

His smile made your heart soar, your face burning as he stood up.

"I'll get us something to eat," he stated, grabbing his bath robe and wrapping it around himself. "Maybe some crackers and grapes—oh, what about a charcuterie board?"

"Ken, that's too much work! A granola bar is fine." He hummed thoughtfully, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he looked in the mirror.

"Well, now I'm in the mood for a charcuterie board." He smiled softly at you. "I'll be back in a bit."

You tried protesting again but he was already out the door, leaving you alone in the hot bath.

You grumbled to yourself about how ridiculous your boyfriend was, but who were you kidding? You loved the fact that he wanted to make you a charcuterie board after fucking your brains out. You loved that he came back to the bathroom around ten minutes later with said food, carrying a tray that also held a couple glasses of water and wine. You loved that he pulled out the caddy tray for the tub and set everything up so that when he eventually joined the bath with you, the two of you were able to enjoy your food and drinks while bathing. You loved that he even brought his tablet with him and put on one of your favorite shows, his arm curled around your waist, keeping your back flush against his chest as you ate and watched.

You loved that he peppered your neck and shoulders with kisses, nuzzling into you until the bathwater went from tepid to cold and you were both pruning to a horrendous degree. You loved that he toweled you off in a nonsexual way, planting kisses on your face every chance he got. You loved how he handed you his nightshirt as you were brushing your teeth, insisting that you wear the soft, oversized shirt instead of your normal pajamas. You loved how his first instinct when he got into bed was to cuddle up to you, arms wrapped around your waist as he buried his face in your chest.

You loved how he muttered "I love you's" until his breathing slowed and he snored softly against you. You loved that, despite him being the most ridiculous man you ever met, he was also the greatest.

And, at the end of the day, he loved you.

[a-simple-gaywitch]

“I’m SO Fired”

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer falls in love with Dave Rossi’s adopted daughter

Word Count: 2038

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of brutal case, mentions of death of parents, that’s it. it’s mostly fluff

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” -Anton Chekhov

~

Spencer was leaning over Emily’s desk, helping her with some details of her paperwork. He glanced up and noticed a beautiful woman briefly talking to Anderson before entering through the glass doors. 

“Reid. Reid!” Emily said, snapping her fingers to get his attention. 

“What? Oh, sorry.”

Emily shook her head. “And just like that, 187 gets slashed to 60.”

The woman walked over to the desk with the two. “Uh, hi,” you said. “Is Dave Rossi here?”

“Oh, um, he should be here. Did you- do you have a meeting with him?” Spencer asked. 

“Kind of,” you said with a small laugh that made Spencer’s stomach flutter. “I’m-”

“(Y/N)!” Hotch said when he saw you. 

“Aaron!”

Emily and Spencer exchanged glances as you gave Aaron a brief hug. 

“Are you here to see your dad?” he asked you. 

“Yeah, is he here?”

“He should be in his office. How long are you in town?”

“Just the weekend,” you said. “But I’m coming back in June for vacation.”

“Well, I’ll let you go see your dad,” Hotch said. As you walked up the stairs, he turned to see Spencer gawking at you. Emily looked at Hotch apologetically. Hotch sighed and said, “Reid, focus on your paperwork, not (Y/N) Rossi.”

~

You knocked on the office door, waiting to hear your father’s voice. 

“Come in!” You pushed open the door and your adoptive father’s face lit up. “Tesorina!” he said, getting up to kiss your cheeks. “I was wondering when you were getting in. How’s work? And what about that boyfriend of yours? Anything-”

“Dad,” you said, cutting him off. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know at dinner. But you promised you’d introduce me to your team the next time I was in town.”

“I did promise that, didn’t I?” he said, pushing up from his desk. He slung his arm around your shoulder and steered you out of his office. The team was gathered in the bullpen, and they all turned to face Rossi when he cleared his throat. “Guys, this is my daughter, (Y/N).” He then introduced each team member to you, save for Aaron.

“Wow, Rossi, I didn’t know you even had a daughter,” Morgan said. 

“Gee, Dad, you don’t talk about me to your coworkers? I’m hurt,” you said, pressing your hand over your heart. 

Rossi rolled his eyes. “Drama queen.”

“So, you’re a Rossi?” Emily asked you. 

“Not biologically. Dave adopted me when I was five,” you explained.

“Initially, I was just fostering her for a little while, but I fell in love with this little rascal,” he said, ruffling your hair.

You set about fixing your hair. “Well, I gotta run. See you at the house for dinner?”

“Yeah, I should be done around 6. Don’t get into trouble.”

“Me, get into trouble? When have I ever been known to do that?” You shot a wink at the man you now knew to be Dr. Reid before leaving the BAU.

Spencer’s cheeks turned pink and he felt Rossi’s eyes on him. He looked down at his desk, busying himself with organizing his pen cup. When he heard Rossi’s office door close, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

Derek rolled his chair over to Spencer’s desk. “You’re looking a little flushed there, Pretty Boy. That wouldn’t have anything to do with Ms. Rossi, would it?”

“Shut up, Morgan,” he muttered, focusing on folding a small piece of paper on his desk into even smaller squares.

~

Dave walked into his house (mansion) to the smell of garlic bread and tomato sauce. He smiled and set his coat on the rack by the door. 

“You know, I would have cooked!” he called as he made his way to the kitchen. You were setting the table for the both of you. 

“Yes, but how often do you actually cook?” you asked him as you poured two glasses of red wine. “You’re always away on cases, I know how much fast food and takeout you eat. Now shut up and enjoy my carbonara.”

Dave chuckled and sat down at the table across from you. “So, how’s work going?” he asked you. 

You shrugged. “You know, there’s good days and bad days. We had a brother and his little sister get adopted together this week, which is always one of the big wins for us.”

He nodded. “What about that boyfriend of yours, Chad?”

“Oh, we broke up,” you said. “About a month ago.”

“Good, I didn’t really like him.”

“Dad, you say that about every guy I date.”

“And it’s true, I haven’t liked any of the guys you’ve dated.”

“Yeah, the only guys you’ve liked have been the ones you’ve tried to set me up with.”

“That’s not true!”

“Dad, remember Stephen?”

“I thought you would be a good match, honest. And before you say it, it’s not just because I’m overly protective.”

“So, we can admit you’re overprotective of me?” you said. 

“Of course I am. And can you blame me?”

“I guess not,” you said with a shrug. “And you could be worse. I could still be living here.”

“Oh, come on. Would that be so bad, having a huge house mostly to yourself?”

“Well, no, but I like living in Pennsylvania,” you said. “And I like having an apartment.” Your father gave you a skeptical look. “Stop profiling me.”

“Sorry, it’s hard to turn it off.” He took a sip of his wine. “You’re planning to go to the cemetery tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“I do every year, you know that.”

“Yeah. They’d be so proud of you, you know.”

You smiled down at your plate and pushed the pasta around. “I know. I, uh, I don’t have many memories of them anymore,” you said. “But the one I’ve been trying to get rid of is still there.”

Dave reached across the table and grabbed your hand. “Hey. Your parents loved you, so much. That’s all you need to remember, okay? They loved you so much that they sacrificed themselves for you.”

“Yeah.”

You lost your parents when you were five. There was a serial killer in the Greater DC Area, a family annihilator. He’d called himself the Orphan Maker. The man would seek out young families with kids no older than 8 and kill the parents first, in front of the children. Then he would kill the children. 

Rossi had been on that case, and had found that your family was the next target. Unfortunately, they did not get to your family before the man killed your parents. But fortunately, they caught him before he could get you. 

Rossi felt guilty they didn’t make it in time. When the law officers found that you didn’t have any family to take you in, Dave offered to bring you home. The plan was to originally just be a foster parent to you until CPS found a place for you to stay officially. But he fell in love with you. You were a little spitfire, a little troublemaker. Dave adopted you and dedicated the rest of his life to taking care of you and protecting you.

~

“Hey, Rossi!” Morgan said as he met the man in the kitchen to get coffee. “How was your weekend with (Y/N)?”

Rossi noticed Reid’s back straighten at the mention of (Y/N)’s name. He smiled to himself, a plan forming in his head. It was a bit of a convoluted plan, but it would work out for everyone in the end. 

“Oh, it was fine. She made me watch an episode of that show Reid and Garcia like.” He glanced over at Spencer’s desk and noticed he was listening intently. “I agreed since she’s still recovering from a recent breakup.”

“Is she okay?” Derek asked. “I know breakups can really suck.”

“She’ll be okay, she bounces back quick. I didn’t like the guy anyway. He was a meathead jock who thought being the high school quarterback was his entire personality. I want her to find a guy who’s smart and kind, someone I like.” He walked out of the kitchenette and passed Reid’s desk. He clapped his shoulder. “Morning, Reid.”

~

You were back in the area for a week-long vacation, and Dave had promised to go sight-seeing in DC with you. 

You walked into the bullpen and were greeted by Penelope, who had quickly become your friend. She wrapped you in a hug before Rossi made his way over to you. 

“Hey, Dad. You ready to go?” you asked after giving him a hug.

“Um, actually, I have to work late. But, you know, Dr. Reid here,” Spencer’s head snapped up from where he was packing his bag at the mention of his name, “knows more about the area than anyone I know. He can show you around. Right, Reid?”

Spencer looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.”

You smiled at him and Spencer felt the butterflies that were already in his stomach go crazy. The two of you walked out of the office, Spencer nervously gripping the strap of his bag while you walked alongside him. 

Penelope looked at Rossi narrowing her eyes. “You don’t have to work late.”

Rossi smiled. “No.”

Penelope gasped. “You’re trying to set them up, aren’t you?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” Rossi said before walking back to his office. 

~

“So, Dr. Reid,” you said as the two of you walked out of the FBI building, “I heard you’re a huge Doctor Who fan.”

Spencer turned to look at you, losing his footing and tripping on the sidewalk. He straightened himself up and cleared his throat. “You, uh, you can call me Spencer. And yeah, I’m-I’m a fan.”

You smiled and Spencer thought the sun had come out again with the brightness you radiated. “Who’s your favorite? Personally, I’m a Tennent girl, but Baker is a close second.” Spencer was staring at you, his jaw dropped. “What?”

“You might be the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

~

When Spencer woke up, the first thing he noticed was the beautiful woman asleep next to him, her head on his bare chest. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair as you started stirring.

“Morning,” he said as you looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest. 

“Morning, Pretty Boy.” You saw his smile falter and his eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so fired,” he said. “I slept with my boss’s daughter. I’m so fired. No, I’m more than fired. I’m dead. Rossi is going to kill me.”

“Hey. Spence, breathe,” you said, cupping his face in your hands. “He’s not going to do anything to you. And if he tries, he’ll face my wrath.”

Spencer chuckled. “Well, after that guy drove through that puddle and splashed you last night, I believe it.” He was silent for a moment as the two of you sat up in the bed. Spencer wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. “What are you going to tell him when you go home?”

You shrugged, leaning your head back. “The truth. I got to know a sweet guy last night and I stayed the night at his place.”

Spencer smiled and gave you a soft kiss.

~

You slipped into the Rossi Manor, feeling like a teenager missing curfew again. You got about halfway through the kitchen before hearing Dave clear his throat. You spun around to see him standing by the kitchen island with a cup of coffee. 

“Oh, uh, morning, Dad.”

“So, you were out all night.”

“Yep.”

“And you’re wearing the same clothes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who is he?” When you didn’t answer, he said, “Spencer?”

Your face paled. “How did-”

“You didn’t really think you could hide that from an old profiler, did you?” He handed you the mug. “Don’t worry, I approve. I’d be more than happy to have Spencer as a son.”

“Dad!”

~

“I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.” - J.R.R. Tolkien 

[boqvistsbabe]

number 11 with boqvist please? x

Untitled and unedited

A/N: haven’t written in awhile and this is kind of shit but it helped me get out of my writing funk (I think). Also I tried to make the reader gender neutral so if I fucked up somewhere please let me know and I’ll fix it :)

Words: around 700 (I think this is the shortest thing I’ve ever written)

Warnings: none (if you see any lmk)

Prompt: Back Hugs from the Physical Affection list

~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was supposed to be coming home from a long roadie and you were trying to make him a surprise dinner. It wasn’t going well if the burnt garlic bread was anything to go by but at least the pasta looked okay.

As you were playing up dinner you felt two arms wrap around you from behind.

“Hello älskling” he mumbled in your ear.

“Welcome back bubs, how do you feel?” Your murmured your response as you turned to wrap your arms around him with a smile.

“Like I don’t care if I eat because I just want cuddles.”

“I think I can manage that.” Was your response.

———————

“But babeee,” Adam whined, “I don’t wanna have to share you with everyone else.”

“Well you’re gonna have to deal with it. Hana has been planning this get together for weeks and I haven’t seen her in forever.” You mumbled as you finished putting your earring in.

“I still think we should stay home, I feel like I haven’t gotten to spend time with you in forever.” He said as he walked up behind you and looked at you through the mirror with his best pout.

“We need to go, but you might be able to convince me to leave early if you play your cards right.”

“Yes yes yes! I will play all my cards right because all I wanna do is spend time with you.” He flashed a big smile at you before wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you back into him. You returned his smile through the mirror.

—————-

By the time he had his second glass of wine at the party he was already turning into cuddly Adam. Well extra cuddly Adam since he’s cuddly to start with. When he had walked up to you and wrapped himself around you, you had turned to smile at him because how could you not?

Currently you were talking to Hana, Jakob’s wife and Olga, Sergei’s wife, and Adam was wrapped around you from behind with his face tucked in close to your neck.

It had been a few hours since you both had gotten there, so you were thinking about politely excuse the both of you so you could go home and cuddle. While watching Christmas movies of course.

You ended up doing just that and you knew it was definitely worth it when Adam gave you that smile when he started the car to go home.

——————

“Why do you always do that?”

“Huh?” Was his oh so intelligent response. In all fairness it was well past midnight and you had been laying in bed for awhile; so he was probably close to being fully asleep.

“You always hug me from behind. Like I mean right now technically it’s more like spooning but still. You always seem to prefer to hug me from behind. I’m not complaining I’m just curious why that seems to be your favorite way to hug me.”

“It’s cause of your face.” He mumbled, holding you tighter.

“My face?” Now you were the one with the less than intelligent response.

“You always look surprised, but like happy surprised. Because you weren’t expecting it. And then you smile that really pretty smile like when you’re really happy and content. And I like knowing I’m the one that put it there.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t exactly been expecting that.

“Yeah, now can we go to sleep? I love you but I need some sleep and so do you.”

“One second.” You turned around real quick to give him a big smile before leaning in and pressing your lips against his in a soft kiss, “I love you so much bubs.”

“Love you too älskling.”

With that you turned back around and he pulled you impossibly closer.

————-

Tagging some friends:

@tysonjost-taylorsversion @2manytabsopen @ilyasorokinn

[milenadaniels]

Actually, Truly, 14k - Buck/Eddie, Helena POV, post-s4 (AO3)

Isabel calls to tell them Eddie's been shot on a Thursday afternoon and by lunch on Friday Helena and Ramon are landing at LAX. When they land, they learn Eddie's already home recovering and has been for two weeks.

----

Or, Helena (and Ramon) tries to find a way back into Eddie's life and doesn't know what to make of finding Buck around every corner she turns.

Isabel calls on a Thursday afternoon and by lunch on Friday Helena and Ramon are landing at LAX. Their son’s been shot, again, in the line of duty. But this time, instead of being thousands of miles away and out of reach, he’s just a short plane ride away.

Isabel insists they come to her house before going to the hospital but she doesn’t blame COVID protocols for keeping them away from the hospital, so they spend the car ride over imagining the worst.

A complication with surgery.

Permanent damage.

A coma.

The news they receive is that Eddie’s fine, and he’s been home and recuperating for two weeks already.

Helena retreats to the living room while Ramon and his mother fight in the kitchen. They’re yelling in Spanish and for once she wishes she’d never learned.

“Escúchame, Ramon,” Isabel tries to interrupt. Listen to me.

The yelling continues because Ramon doesn’t listen. It’s not his strong suit. Nor is it Helena’s.

Helena paces the length of the living room and holds her phone in her hands, thumb over Eddie’s name in FaceTime, not pressing down.

Eddie’s been home for two weeks.

Isabel hadn’t told them for two weeks.

But Eddie hadn’t either.

They hadn’t seen him in person in nearly two years, and he hadn’t called them since their last fight over a month ago.

Still, Eddie was shot in the streets by a sniper and he didn’t call them.

Mom, listen...

The last time they spoke, it was a phone call, not a video chat, maybe because at that point just the sight of each others’ faces was enough to set them all off. In that phone call, Eddie spoke of a friend whose family was somehow worse off than their own, but who, miraculously, were finally making the effort to fix the broken ties between them in therapy.

“Mom, listen… I spent a long time being angry with Shannon instead of trying to reach out to her and now Christopher is never going to have her in his life again. I don’t want that with you,” Eddie said, his voice brusque but calm, measured. “I don’t want to grin and bear it when you call or when we visit. I want to be glad to pick up the phone, I want to be excited to see you all at Christmas, I want you to be part of our lives. But I can’t do that without you meeting me halfway.” He was resolute, but he was pleading too. “I don’t want to spend the next ten years of our lives like this.”

But the idea of therapy was anathema to the Diaz family and it took only Ramon’s dismissive scoff to reinforce her own distaste of the idea. They called Eddie back to say they had no intention of paying a stranger to tell them everything was their fault and he was blameless.

They didn’t get another call after that.

“— my son!” Ramon yells at Isabel in the kitchen.

“Because, mijo, when you come here, you don’t see your son! You don’t see him living here, growing, Christopher thriving! You don’t see how when you come up here you bring sadness and misery when you should bring joy and comfort.” The words are too close to what Eddie said for them not to have spoken about it together. “By the time I knew he was hurt, he was already out of surgery and doing well. If he wasn’t, I would have called immediately.”

“Oh bueno, so you’ll tell me my son is dying but not that he’s okay?”

“Ramon! Escúchame.” It’s not often that Helena gets to bear witness to the steel in Isabel’s voice, the one she passed down to both her kids. It’s in fine form today. “He was doing well, and had all the help he needed. As soon as things stabilized, I called you. Keep acting like a fool and see if I call you at all next time.”

“If you call? Are you —”

Mom, listen…

“Ramon!” Helena snaps, surprising them all.

“Ramon,” she repeats, more calmly this time. “Listen to her.”

The shock on Isabel’s face almost makes her smile, but her heart is too heavy to commit to it.

“Helena, two weeks she —”

“Our son was shot, and he didn’t tell us.” Helena says, her voice trembling. “Our son was shot, he could have died, and the last thing we would have told him is we weren’t willing to fight for him and Christopher. Weren’t willing to — what? — put our egos aside? Our pride? For one fucking minute to listen to him. To listen to what he needed.”

Ramon’s eyes widen and he hangs his head with a sigh.

Helena faces Isabel, her phone tucked in her palm against her stomach.

“What can we do? We’re listening.”

——————-

Ramon walks it off and Helena helps Isabel in the kitchen in exchange for a promise they’ll go over to Eddie’s for supper. She’s been making care packages for Eddie and Christopher since the shooting, and she’s working on a pasta sauce while Helena starts on her famous banana brown sugar bread — Eddie’s favourite.

“How is he, really?” she asks once her dish is tucked into the oven.

“As well as can be expected,” Isabel replies, throwing spices into the pot with an ease Helena never grew into. “He was tired for the first few days, but now it’s like a broken arm. Uncomfortable but not so painful.”

“How long is it supposed to take to heal?”

Isabel casts a suspicious eye her way as if she can anticipate the date of Helena’s return flight adjusting already, but answers, “they say 6 to 8 weeks. It’s for the bone to heal, mostly, in his back. The rest should be sooner.”

Helena broke her wrist years ago, when the kids were nearly teenagers, and it was three months of hell trying to manage a household one handed while Ramon spent most of that time travelling across Texas.

Who’s helping him? Is Carla back in the picture? Is she working overtime? How can he afford that on sick leave? Is Pepa or one of the cousins going over? Is his girlfriend there? Who’s helping with Christopher? How is he managing?

The questions — all genuine and well-meaning, all a shade too accusatory — are on her tongue, pressed to the back of her teeth to keep from escaping. She’s entitled to answers, even if she doesn’t like them. She knows she has the right to at least know how her son is caring for himself and her grandson while he’s injured. If he’d told them when it happened Helena could have been here in a heartbeat to help, but no, Eddie’s just as stubborn as they are, just as prideful. He’d rather suffer alone than accept their help. Fine. But she’s still his mother, and Christopher’s grandmother. She raised them both. She has a right to—

Mom, listen…

Helena takes a deep breath in, anchors herself in the mixed scents of the rich sauce and the sweet bread cooking, and breathes out. Isabel sends her another look but says nothing.

————-

Helena cries when she sees Eddie, and cries a bit harder when she sees the apprehension in his eyes. Her baby boy looks a bit pale, but he’s standing on his own two feet and answering the door himself.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs, wrapping him gently into her arms, mindful not to press into the sling or his back.

“Hi, mom,” he says quietly, like he’s trying to gentle the stiffness in his voice.

She releases him, but not before pressing three kisses into his temple, always three. One for each of her kids.

Ramon steps into the space she leaves when she continues into the house and from the corner of her eye, she sees him cup the back of Eddie’s head and take a good look at him. For Ramon, it’s the equivalent of collapsing to the floor in tears.

Helena quickly toes off her boots and makes room at the entrance for the others behind her, which also puts her first in line to catch a sight that nearly knocks her down.

“Who is this young man I see?” she cries, throwing her hands wide to gesture at her grandson. “Last I saw you, you were just a little tyke. Now look at you, you must have grown three feet!”

Christopher giggles and Helena smiles in return as she folds him into her arms, but it’s forced. She’s not lying — he’s grown so much more than she expected. She hasn’t seen him in person since Eddie’s graduation and while video chats are priceless, they didn’t capture this growth spurt.

She can’t believe she let this happen. That she went from spending most of everyday with this little boy and now she’s missed out on two years of his life. Can’t believe Eddie kept him fro—

Mom, listen...

Supper goes well enough. Eddie never truly shakes loose the tension in his shoulders; he trades many looks with Isabel, seemingly spooked by his parents’ behaviour. He talks a lot more than he usually does, probably out of nervousness. But overall, they let Christopher take the reigns; they’re all more comfortable with that. It’s been too long since they’ve last spoken and Christopher is full of stories about his school and his friends.

“Buck says we can go to the Griffin soon. It was closed because of COVID. But before, I went with my class and they made a comet right in front of us!”

Buck. It’s the third time his name has been dropped at the table since they sat down.

She first met him, briefly, at Eddie’s graduation, but didn’t really register him as someone in her son’s life until Eddie and his crew stopped off in El Paso for dinner on their way home from fighting Texas wildfires. Buck had been cropping up in Christopher’s and Eddie’s stories for months by then and she was curious to properly meet him in person. He had seemed...young, she remembers.

“The Griffith Observatory,” Eddie corrects fondly. With Christopher, at least, it’s impossible for him not to soften.

Eddie’s only eaten half the pasta on his plate but Isabel seems satisfied. Helena bites down on the impulse to encourage him to eat more. To remind him he needs his strength to heal quickly for his little boy. She does lift the basket of garlic bread in his direction, because she can’t help herself. He eyes the basket warily as though he expects her to do more, but when she doesn’t, he shakes his head with a small smile of thanks.

“Yeah,” Christopher agrees, “it was cool but we didn’t get to stay long enough to see everything. And if we go later, Buck says we can see real meteors in the sky.”

Fourth mention.

“Christopher is on an astronomy kick,” Eddie adds redundantly.

“Wait, I gotta show you —” Christopher is sliding out of his seat before anyone can stop him and racing down the hall to his bedroom.

“Oh, honey —” Helena grips the arms of her chair out of reflex to jump up and help him — he doesn’t have his crutches, he’s only using the wall for support and he’s wearing socks — but Eddie looks over when her chair creaks.

He can’t really expect her to just sit here while Christopher—

Mom, listen…

They can hear Christopher make it to his bedroom without injury, so Helena slowly settles back in her chair and Ramon clears his throat. “He seems...okay. More okay than I would have expected.”

Eddie keeps his eyes on his father for a beat too long, assessing the comment for any hidden messages.

“He’s a resilient kid. Buck stayed here with him while I was in the hospital, so his routine wouldn’t get messed up. I think that helped a lot.”

Fifth ment— wait.

“Buck stayed with him?” The words — the tone — are out of her mouth before Helena can stop them.

On the shortlist of people she expected to hear stayed with her grandson to watch him and care for him, alone, while his father was in the hospital — Isabel, Pepa, Carla, or even Ana — Buck’s isn’t a name she expected to hear. A coworker — an unrelated man with no children of his own, over Christopher’s family? Over Christopher’s own aide? Over a schoolteacher?

Eddie’s jaw squares up and he sits up in his chair. Like light gray rain clouds suddenly turning dark, weighty with an incoming storm, a heavy tension builds in the air between them.

“Look!” Christopher exclaims as he rounds the corner, nearly throwing a thin, blue hardcover book on the table. Eddie catches it before it can slam into Christopher’s leftover pasta and sets it down on the table for him. “It shows all the things we can see in the sky over the whole year!”

Christopher climbs back into his chair and opens the book up to a random page, describing everything he seems to have nearly memorized already. By the time he reaches the upcoming meteor shower, the tension at the table has dissipated enough for Helena to excuse herself to the bathroom and not have it come off like a passive aggressive storm-off.

She washes her hands with soap pumped out of a fish-shaped dispenser that wasn’t here the last time she visited and trains her eyes on the basket of gauze, scissors and tape tucked away on the shelf above the toilet. That wasn’t there last time either.

Her baby boy was shot by a sniper. In LA.

A bullet tore through the body she created and almost took her son from her forever.

Mom, listen...

But only after she’d almost pushed him so far away he might never come back.

The tears well up again and she sniffs through them, blinking up at the ceiling until she’s back under control.

As she pivots to turn the light off, she spies a purple toothbrush resting on the ledge just above the sink. The other two toothbrushes are electric — one adult-, one child-sized — and stand on the counter.

—————-

Helena and Ramon meet the infamous Ana by accident.

When they leave Eddie’s house on Friday, Helena sends a text message to say what she couldn’t manage to say to his face — that they’re here for him, in whatever capacity he needs, that they’ll take their cues from him, even if that means giving him some space.

To that, she receives a, Thank you.

When she asks for the contact information of the therapist he had scoped out for them, she gets a phone call.

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth,” her son says, “but are you just doing this because I got shot?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” she laughs mirthlessly. “I’m sorry to say it took our baby boy nearly dying to get our heads out of our ass.”

Eddie huffs a laugh on his end. “Well, I’ll take that silver lining.”

After that, Eddie invites them to a restaurant for brunch on Sunday, but when they reach his doorstep, they find it already occupied by a woman who’s just rung the doorbell, holding a casserole dish in her hands.

When the door opens, Eddie takes in the three of them, his eyes wide and apprehensive.

“Ana, I wasn’t expecting you,” he says, his eyes darting over her shoulder to his parents. He’s smiling, though there’s a clear strain in the corners of his eyes and mouth. They’ve been critical about Shannon for so long — and with good reason, nothing will change Helena’s mind on that — no doubt he’s expecting them to hate this new woman on sight.

“You’re Ana!” Helena exclaims with a wide smile, imbuing her voice with as much welcome as she’s capable. “Hi! It’s so good to finally meet you!”

When Eddie releases the breath he was holding, she knows she was on the mark. Ramon follows her lead and invites Ana to brunch with them on the spot and won’t hear her protests about intruding.

Eddie, of course, doesn’t protest at all but invites them in so Ana can store the casserole in the fridge — it takes both Ana and Helena’s organizational skills to find a spot for it among Isabel’s and Eddie’s tupperwares already invading all available space — and he can finish getting ready. He was already dressed in a nice polo and jeans but when he comes back from his bedroom it’s in a smart button-down he must have struggled with out of sheer stubbornness. Both his parents and his girlfriend are in the house and still he didn’t ask for help.

Eddie and Christopher decide to hop into Ana’s car and Helena asks loudly for directions to keep Ramon from insisting they should all ride together.

“So how long have you kids been seeing each other now?” Ramon asks when they’ve been seated at the restaurant.

“Nearly 7 months now, I think, isn’t it?” Ana replies, looking at Eddie with a dazzling smile — she truly is gorgeous. Eddie was still talking to them when he started dating her so they know she’s a schoolteacher turned vice principal but to meet her in person blows all their other expectations out of the water. She’s lively and sweet, patient and understanding, Latina — a big plus in Ramon’s books ironically. Eddie picked well this time.

Eddie hesitates a moment and nods. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

Every now and again, he squirms in his chair, like he can’t quite settle in and Helena wonders when his last painkiller was taken. But when he catches her face, she smoothes her worry out into a cheeky smile that says I like this one. He smiles back and there’s nothing she can pinpoint exactly but something about it makes her uneasy.

Eddie’s too quiet as they wait for their food, his face pinched, and just when Helena’s about to break, Ana does her the favour of asking gently, “Are you feeling okay? Do you need to take anything for your arm?”

But Eddie shrugs off her concern. “No, thank you. Next one isn’t until noon.” He taps his phone twice and she smiles.

“Sorry, I forgot. He’s got them all on timers with a special ringtone. He’s so organized,” she tells Helena and Ramon with a sunny smile, rubbing her hand down his good arm. “I have one multivitamin and I forget to take it half the time.”

“Buck set it up,” Eddie defers, and Helena schools her face not to react; even at brunch Buck is with them in spirit.

Ramon either takes no issue with the mention or doesn’t register it. He takes the opportunity to share how his new pharmacy pre-packages his heart and arthritis medications into AM and PM slots and Ana listens attentively. Eddie’s fingertip taps absently against the phone case until their food arrives.

Christopher ordered a waffle, and with Eddie indisposed, Helena is already moving to help him when Ana beats her to the punch again. Helena tucks a smile away as Ana leans over and starts cutting the waffle up into smaller pieces.

“He can do that,” Eddie says when he notices Christopher sitting back in his chair, realizing only when Ana startles that his tone is sharp. His voice is softer when he follows up with, “Right, buddy?”

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, picking up his own cutlery with enthusiasm despite his hands being nearly too small for them.

Eddie throws an apologetic grin Ana’s way and brunch continues peacefully, though the stiff line of Eddie’s shoulder never does quite soften.

Mom, listen…

————-

Their first therapy session takes place in Isabel’s kitchen at Eddie’s request. Isabel thinks it’s so he has the option of leaving when he needs to (in other words, when he gets fed up and runs) but Helena hasn’t missed how Eddie has been careful to keep them away from his home since the first day they saw him.

They’ve seen Eddie and Chris numerous times in the week and change they’ve been in LA — more than they’ve seen them since they left El Paso — but always outside of the house. Sometimes they pick Chris up from school, sometimes Eddie and Chris come to Isabel’s for supper, sometimes they go out to restaurants or other outings, but they haven’t been invited back to his home again. She wanted to believe it was because he was hiding the news that Ana had moved in but that’s been shot out of the water both by her ringing the doorbell and an errant comment at the end of brunch about how she hadn’t seen him since the welcome home party.

So it’s out of pettiness, then. Stubbornness. Out of pig-headed inability to accept that he needs help and willingness to believe that they’re making an effort to meet him on his own terms.

She tries not to let it rankle her, tries to find some of that resolute commitment to letting things be and not push. But the next thing she knows, she’s yelling about it to a stranger at Isabel’s island counter.

To be fair, the session with Dr. Jamieson wasn’t going great to begin with. It’s awkward as hell, the three of them balancing on stools, squished in next to each other to try to fit into the screen, but also trying to keep the laptop close enough to still hear her and not have to shout. It’s happening while Chris is at school so they don’t have to worry about keeping him distracted but they can’t exactly ask Isabel to go wait in the LA sun for an hour so she doesn’t overhear, so it’s basically a given that she’s the fourth person on this virtual couch from the next room over.

And beyond that, Helena has kept her mouth shut for over a week which is frankly more time than anyone would have bet on, including herself, and given the opportunity to express herself freely...well…

“You want space? We’ve given you nothing but space since we got here. How much more can we give you, Eddie? You’re hundreds of miles away from us already. Forgive us for feeling the need to check in on our only son who almost died last week,” she yells, her hand nearly colliding with her coffee mug as she gestures.

“Last week?” Ramon echoes with a bark of dark laughter.

“Oh, no, that’s right,” Helena picks up. “I’m sorry! Not a week ago! Nearly a month ago! Because apparently we don’t warrant even a text when our only son almost dies, but that’s not enough space?”

Eddie rakes his fingers aggressively through his hair, his lips pursed.

“We have to move to Mexico,” Ramon continues blithely. “Is that enough space? No, better yet! Sweden! Your family still lives out there, no? We can live on their farm. Completely different timezone, we won’t even be reachable.”

“Yeah,” Eddie bites back, a sour grin blooming on his face, “that’s what I want. I ask you to give me some breathing room — to respect me, my life — and you translate that into living in a fucking commune in Sweden. And you wonder why we’re in therapy. I can’t talk to you, you don’t listen!”

Mom, lis—

“Listen to what, Eddie?” Helena yells, getting out of her seat to pace. “Listen to the months of silence you’ve sent our way? Because we either get on board and blindly cheer on every mess you get yourself into or we don’t get to know you anymore? Don’t get to know our grandson?”

“I never kept him from you — you have our number, the phone didn’t ring. That’s not on me.”

“Because you would have picked up?” Ramon exclaims, pushing away from the island to better look back at their son. “Easy to claim when it’s after the fact in front of the doctor.”

“So now I’m a liar! You raised a liar?”

“I think we’ve gotten off-track,” Dr. Jamieson’s tinny voice interjects from the laptop.

In the bottom right hand corner of the screen, only Eddie remains in the frame.

————

Firehouse 118 was a lively crowd at Eddie’s graduation but it’s nothing compared to the party thrown at the Grant-Nash house in honour of a new probationary firefighter.

Dr. Jamieson pointed out the self-fulfilling prophecy that Eddie protecting himself from criticism and pressure by withholding details about his life in LA was leading to his parents’ growing insecurity over not knowing anything about their son and feeling the need to intervene more and more.

The solution? Let them in on his life and trust that they could hold themselves in check.

For that, even Ramon was in agreement that maybe therapy wasn’t a load of shit after all.

So here they find themselves welcomed into this beautiful and loud home nearly three weeks into their stay in LA. They were allowed to pick Eddie and Chris up so they arrive together but Christopher peels off immediately to find kids his own age.

It’s impossible not to feel the warmth of family radiating from every inch of the home so when Eddie’s shoulders seem to loosen a little as they walk in, Helena can’t find it in herself to begrudge him.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a woman around Helena’s age drawls, crowding into Eddie’s space for a delicate hug he doesn’t hesitate to return. “Though I could have done without seeing another one of these for a few hundred more years,” she says, gesturing to the sling. “How much longer?”

“Another month if everything checks out,” Eddie says, releasing a sigh.

“It better,” she warns with a twinkle in her eye that says if she learns he’s been aggravating his injury there will be hell to pay.

The woman, they find out, is Athena Grant-Nash, wife of the 118’s captain and consummate host. While Eddie splits off “for a minute”, she leads them to the main area for drinks and introductions before leaving them to mingle. Captain Nash — Bobby — meets them with appetizers and introduces them to the Lees, the de-facto parental figures of the young man who just joined the team.

From the spot she claims at the edge of the dining room, Helena keeps an eye trained on Eddie outside. She feels an itch under her skin knowing it’s been nearly twenty minutes and Eddie hasn’t checked on Christopher, but she knows she shouldn’t go herself. Eddie can do everything on his own, right? He can look after his own kid at a party.

She can, however, go to the washroom and take a peek at what Christopher’s up to while she’s wandering, and that’s exactly what she intends to do.

But for now, she watches as Eddie criss-crosses through the crowds of the patio, prompting a localized burst of cheers at each stop as he reunites himself with teammates he hasn’t seen since the shooting. She recognizes the woman who was on the trip to Texas but the rest conjure only the vaguest memories of Eddie’s graduation and the occasional picture on Instagram — before he stopped posting that is. Just one more way they’ve been iced out.

But he seems happy, almost carefree in a way she realizes she hasn’t seen with her own eyes in...longer than this trip, actually.

Probably years, if she’s honest.

And it occurs to her, slowly, creepingly, that her son is outside, smiling freely and easily, surrounded by people he’s made his new family, while Helena stands inside watching his life through a glass window in a stranger’s house.

Mom, listen…

She swallows past the lump in her throat and sighs. Ramon’s arm comes around her waist and without looking at him, she knows he’s had a similar revelation.

Their next therapy session is in a few days, and they’re not going to fuck it up again.

There’s a late arrival to the party, one of the only people in Eddie’s life she can recognize — Buck. He’s as tall as she remembered but he looks a shade less young now maybe. He greets everyone with a hug or kiss on the cheek as he moves through the party, and bestows a cheer and an enthusiastic hug on Albert, the guest of honour.

When he moves on to the patio and approaches Eddie’s circle, however, the cheerful, long-awaited reunion of best friends she expects doesn’t happen. They catch each other’s eyes for a few beats and share a welcoming smile, then the conversation resumes as if nothing of consequence has happened. Buck doesn’t even linger long, heading back into the house after a few minutes.

When the cake starts being doled out, Eddie returns to meet them at the table and accepts the plate Helena offers him. Helena is scouting the yard for a chair he can sit on to eat when Buck reappears.

“He couldn’t be pulled away?” Eddie asks in surprise.

“Nope,” Buck replies with a grin before turning to them. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Diaz. Good to see you again!” Before they can return more than a smile, Buck continues, “he’s cheating at Unicorn Temple with Harry. Not even cake can pull him away.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smiles. “My son is not a cheater.” To them, he says, “Buck thinks that whenever he’s losing at a video game, it’s because his opponent is cheating.”

“Not always! Just when they are,” he replies with exaggerated emphasis before scooping a piece of cake onto a plate. “I’m gonna go hide this in the fridge for him for later before it’s all gone.”

Eddie ducks his head and smiles down at his plate, and the questions are building up behind Helena’s teeth again.

Christopher’s been playing video games all this time? Is it an age-appropriate game? Why is Buck checking on your son? Why is Buck saving him cake when nobody asked him to? Why—

But Eddie looks up with an uncertain expression and says, “there’s a table out there if you guys want to join me.”

So Helena stows her questions and says, “that’d be great.”

They eat the overly-sweet cake in peaceful silence until Ramon casts an eye around and says, “you must be glad about the new firefighter. You won’t be the baby on the team anymore.”

Eddie snorts. “I’m 33 and my kid is nearly a teenager — and that’s totally not freaking me out at all,” he adds wryly. “Besides, I was never the baby of the team. Buck is younger than me and forever a kid at heart so I was never in any danger of it.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me that Christopher’s growing up,” Helena only half-jokes. “I can still barely believe he’s old enough to hold his own head up.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and Helena banks it as a win.

“Do any of your coworkers have teenagers?” Ramon asks. “Might have some words of wisdom to share.” Since you won’t ask us, is unspoken and politely ignored by all.

“Athena’s daughter May is just leaving the teen years now, but after her, Christopher’s the oldest. Harry, Athena’s son is 9 and Denny, Hen and Karen’s son just turned 8. It’s great for play dates but not for getting advice on what’s coming up unfortunately.”

“Karen,” Ramon echoes.

Eddie’s fork pauses on its way to scoop some excess icing off his cake and his back straightens.

“Hen’s wife,” he says curtly, daring.

Helena wants to roll her eyes at the posturing. It’s 2021, who cares who anybody loves. She knows Ramon doesn’t, not really, not anymore. It’s a 50-year-long reflex to make a comment, one they’ve been working, if only to have some semblance of a civil conversation with Sophia while she works through a degree in women and gender studies.

But she knows that excuse isn’t going to fly with Eddie.

It hasn’t flown since Eddie was 20 years old and realizing he’d lost a good friend to his father’s caustic words. And Helena can’t ever go back and examine the hurt in Eddie’s expression with fresh eyes. Shemanages to forget about it most of the time until something happens to dig it out of the cold, hard ground and shove it in her arms.

Mom, listen...

But she’s come to LA because she wants to be in her son’s life, in her grandson’s life and she can’t be a coward now.

“They’re a gorgeous couple,” she says, almost too loudly in her enthusiasm. “Are they thinking of having more kids?”

Eddie turns his assessing eyes to her and is mollified by her effort. “Yeah, they’re foster parents now. They’ve fostered three kids so far.”

“That’s great,” she says sincerely. Then, accidentally on purpose and only in part to bring Ramon back to a safe topic, she asks, “Does Ana want a large family?”

Eddie sees through her attempt, but nods. “Yeah, she loves kids.”

Helena doesn’t miss Ramon’s approving nod, or the dark look that passes over Eddie’s eyes when he catches it.

“Was Ana not able to come tonight?” Ramon asks.

“I didn’t ask her,” he answers, his voice a shade too casual. “This is more of a team thing.” As if they hadn’t just been discussing the other families all around them.

“That Ana—” Ramon begins but is interrupted by the arrival of Christopher with a hint of blue icing on his nose and Buck following behind him with two paper plates filled with cake.

Christopher sits backwards on the picnic table bench and uses his arms to lift his legs over while Eddie watches but doesn’t offer to help, and when Christopher is set, Buck places one of the plates in front of him with a plastic fork stuck in the top like a flag.

“Buck was finally able to pull you away, mijo?” Eddie asks as Christopher digs in.

“No, May took her room back so we can’t play on her tv anymore. Harry’s gonna ask his mom if we can play in her room.”

“Yeah...” Buck draws out, sharing a dubious expression with Eddie over Christopher’s head, “I wouldn’t hold out for that, bud.”

“Maybe you can teach the others how to play Scrabble!” Eddie suggests.

Christopher’s nose wrinkles, “Scrabble is boring.”

“Hey!” Buck protests and takes a forkful of Christopher’s cake in retaliation, which prompts Christopher to yell and attack Buck’s cake back, taking much more than a forkful.

The commotion draws attention to their table and Helena’s gearing up to tell Christopher to settle down when she catches Eddie’s eyes on her, waiting.

Helena looks back out to the backyard to say, People are staring.

Eddie looks back impassively as if to say, Let them.

Mom, listen...

Helena swallows her impatience, her anxiety, her embarrassment.

“Hey,” Buck calls, his mouth half full of icing, “did you take your 6?”

Eddie hesitates and that’s enough for Buck to swallow and look put out, already turning and lifting a leg out of the confines of the picnic table.

“Did you turn off your alarm again?”

“I didn’t turn it off the first time, I don’t know what happened.”

“What happened is it woke you up at 6am and you turned it off because sleepy Eddie makes bad life choices.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You don’t have —”

“Right pocket?” Buck interjects, already walking away.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs.

Christopher looks at him and shakes his head with exaggerated disappointment.

“Don’t you start,” Eddie warns, scooping a fingertip of icing and dabbing it on his son’s nose too quickly for him to duck.

Christopher shrieks and reaches for his cake fingers-first.

“Oh no, no,” Eddie laughs, catching Christopher’s fingers with one hand. “Truce, truce.”

Christopher doesn’t look interested in a truce and Eddie’s other arm is in a sling, so Ramon quickly pulls the cake out of Christopher’s reach, and then Buck’s abandoned piece and Helena does the same with Eddie’s.

“Not fair!” Christopher cries, still reaching.

“Your dad’s hurt, mijo, you can’t attack him with icing while he’s healing,” Ramon says reasonably. “Wait till he’s all better.”

“He’s fine!” Christopher declares with the confidence of a trauma surgeon as he tries to climb up on the bench.

Eddie’s not in a position to pull him back down and Helena doesn’t know how far they can take their non-interference but she’s not about to let her grandson hop over a table to fall into three plates of cake. She’s half-decided she’s going to pick up the cake and walk it back inside when Buck returns, depositing a glass of water on the table and a small white pill into Eddie’s palm before swooping in and tickling Christopher’s sides.

He shrieks loudly, gaining looks from all around the backyard, but it gets his butt back down on the bench and Buck sits back down next to him, boxing him in between himself and Eddie.

“What happened to our cake? How’d it get all the way over there?” The plates are very easily within Buck’s reach; it’s a question for Christopher’s benefit.

“Dad got me like you did!” Christopher cries indignantly, pointing to his nose. “I’m getting him back!”

“Oh man,” Buck nods seriously before his finger darts forward, swipes the icing from his nose and brings it to his mouth. “Mmm, this is better than the one I got you with. You sure you don’t just wanna eat it?”

Christopher looks unconvinced.

“How about this?” Buck ducks down to whisper loudly. “You call a truce with your dad, and then I’ll steal all his icing and we’ll eat it.”

The icing on Eddie’s cake is mostly piled in a corner of his paper plate. He’s never been able to stomach the pure sugary sweetness of store bought icing.

“Okay,” Christopher nods back, reaching out again for his plate but without making grabby hands.

Ramon assesses him for a moment before taking the chance to push the plates back within reach.

“Hey, Eddie,” Buck calls deliberately. “You should take your medication now.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Eddie replies with a smile that conveys an eyeroll. “I’ll do that now.”

While Eddie pops the pill and takes a very long drink of water, Buck “sneakily” pulls his plate towards them and scoops all the piled icing onto his own plate before pushing the cake back to Eddie’s side of the table.

Christopher laughs and pushes Eddie’s plate an extra few inches away out of spite.

Eddie plays the disappointed victim passably well with a half-hearted gasp and a shake of his head. “You little thieves.”

As promised, Buck doles out some of Eddie’s icing to Christopher who immediately protests at the amount left on Buck’s plate.

“Hey, when you’re a big guy like me, you get more icing. Keep eating your proteins and you’ll get there in no time.”

Christopher accepts that easily enough. “I’m gonna be tall like dad.”

Buck scoffs, “Aim higher, kid. Literally.”

“I am barely two inches shorter than you,” Eddie laments, not for the first time, it sounds like.

“It’s practically three. Are you really going to lie in front of your parents?”

Wouldn’t be the first time, is on Helena’s tongue because it’s been hours since she could speak her mind, but she holds it in.

“How was the trip from Texas?” Buck asks them suddenly, bringing them back into the fold of a scene they'd never left but somehow stopped being a part of. “Flights have new restrictions on them now, don’t they?”

Mom, listen...

When the party is winding down and they walk outside to the driveway, Eddie surprises them by offering them both a hug.

“Thank you for coming,” he says sincerely, though Helena hears the underlying “and behaving” and can’t help but bristle.

“Thank you for inviting us, mijo,” Ramon says; his turn to save Helena from herself.

And when Eddie lets them know he and Chris will be getting their ride back from Buck, Ramon takes Helena’s hand and they smile almost sincerely as they say their goodnights.

—————-

The next week happens to be Isabel’s 80th birthday and Helena and Ramon keep themselves busy by helping to throw a party that will reunite every vaccinated member of the family in the area (they’re not about to take a chance on Isabel’s health).

Things have been getting better with Eddie. They had a second therapy session, again at Isabel’s island counter, where they lasted a good 25 minutes before devolving into yelling. The next day, Eddie asked Ramon for a ride to physical therapy, and easily accepted his father’s offer of lunch after the appointment.

Then, when Helena asked if she could pick up some groceries for him and Christopher, she was refused — in no small part, she thinks, because he still won’t let them in his house — but instead of going off on him, she channeled that anger and resentment into nearly buying out Costco for Isabel’s party. It felt like progress Dr. Jamieson would be proud of.

That’s why, despite the party officially kicking off around 11am, they’re just past supper time and all tables and counters are still nearly buckling under the weight of the food. They’ll have to send everyone home with leftovers if the flow of people stops. Isabel’s front door has been a turnstile since this morning and Helena knows from experience it’ll likely stay that way until the late hours of the night. Most recently, Helena’s daughters made their appearance, and it’s not at all the reason Helena is back in the kitchen.

Despite coming from opposite ends with different travel distances, Adriana and Sophia arrived within a half hour of each other, a move Helena saw through instantly. The idea that her children coordinated to arrive together instead of risking the possibility of facing their parents alone sets a fire raging in her heart, and she realizes suddenly that she isn’t prepared to be hypervigilant of her every word with all three of her kids here now to push her buttons.

So, she retreats to the kitchen.

She doesn’t expect one of them to follow her in.

“I heard you guys were doing therapy,” Adriana volleys as she approaches.

Helena cracks open the tray of chocolate chip cookies and starts plating them, her face angled down so any kneejerk expression of distaste isn’t as visible. “Apparently, that’s what the cool kids do nowadays.”

“It is,” Adriana agrees, the bangles on her wrists clinking on the countertop as she reaches for the box of oatmeal cookies to plate. She’s a year into her Master’s in communication. What she intends to do with that is a mystery to them. So much of their kids’ lives are a mystery now. Helena closes the lid of the cookie tray hard and relishes in the snap of the plastic groove into the tongue.

“Paying a stranger to tell us when and how to talk to each other is cool,” she bites. It’s not posed as a question, just a bitter acknowledgement.

Adriana is quiet and Helena starts plating mini quiches onto the cookie platter just to stay occupied while her daughter walks away. Sophia is a yeller, she stands her ground and gives as good as she gets. Adriana, however, is a runner, just like Eddie.

But Adriana doesn’t leave in a huff. She turns to the counter and grabs a second platter, moving the mini quiches onto that one.

“It’s cool that you’re open to trying,” she says. “I think that, in any family where there’s love, there’s going to be hurt. And the longer we stay stuck in that hurt, the harder it becomes to talk about it without causing more. We get stuck in patterns that we can’t break out of, and people on the outside can be the best ones to point out those patterns and help you break out of them to get to what you actually, truly want to say.”

Helena knows what she actually, truly wants to say. That’s not the problem. The problem is that none of her kids want to hear it.

“I see a therapist,” Adriana continues. Helena stills and looks at her daughter, calmly arranging the mini quiches into concentric circles. “Since my last year of undergrad. When things got really hard and I couldn’t understand why. They helped me. A lot. Helped me figure out what was wrong and how to get myself through it.”

“You didn’t tell us,” Helena says, her voice thick.

“I know,” her daughter replies simply. “I didn’t know how. I’m telling you now because what I actually, truly want to say is that I’m proud of you and dad for doing this. And maybe if you don’t hate it...maybe we could try a session later too.”

There’s an offer in her daughter’s words, an open hand reaching out. But in that hand, Helena sees her failures as a parent, the judgement of the world for failing her kids, and she doesn’t want to reach her own hand out.

Mom, listen…

Helena looks at her eldest daughter, almost a stranger to her, with an entire life Helena is only starting to realize she has no part in. It hurts — it always hurts when the kids pull away but to realize she didn’t even know the extent of it...she wants to hurt back.

Mom, listen…

But she’s trying so hard to break those patterns Adriana speaks of. So instead, Helena thinks of the therapist’s advice leading them into a piece of Eddie’s life they wouldn’t have otherwise gotten to see and swallows past the indignation in her throat to reach down and find the words she actually, truly wants to say.

“You say when, and I’ll be there.”

———-

The sun is setting when Helena finally agrees to get off her feet and just enjoy the party outside while the cousins take over the serving and cleaning. There are four generations of Diazes gathered around but for the first time ever, most of the cousins are young adults, not teenagers, and it’s nice to be able to pass on the hosting responsibilities to them for a bit.

The sky is clear, the sunset resplendent from Isabel’s backyard, and the conversation is flowing easily. It’s a beautiful evening, warm with a gentle breeze cool enough to let her lean back against Ramon in his lounge chair, one of his arms wrapped loosely around her hip.

For the first time since getting Isabel’s text, Helena feels something like peace wash over her and she almost feels bad for the thrum of vindication in her stomach when she spots Eddie slumped comfortably in an armchair, his legs propped up on another chair.

He’s at home here.

Yes, he was at ease at his captain’s house but this is family, this is where he can really sink into the love and comfort and rest. With his aunts and uncles, cousins and sisters around to take care of him. And Christopher, who spent the afternoon running around and chomping down on all the sugar he could get his hands on, slumped against him, nearly asleep. This is family.

She knows he could find that peace back in El Paso, they both could. Eddie had friends there, and his parents, who knew his son better than he did for most of his life. And there are fires in El Paso same as there are in LA, but less smog, less general insanity.

But Eddie’s a lot like his parents, too much like them maybe, and once he’s decided on a course of action he can’t be swayed. So Helena has made peace with it. Rather, she’s made peace with pretending to be okay with it while she waits for him to come to the realization that he should move back.

And in the meantime, if they can mend this thorniness between them, then maybe she and Ramon can make more of these impromptu trips. Maybe even convince Eddie to come home for Christmas this year. At the very least, go back to regular video chats.

But all that ruminating feels far away right now. She’s moving gently with the rise and fall of Ramon’s chest, and she’s so close to slipping away to the feeling of contentment when a new arrival makes her open eyes she didn’t realize she’d closed.

“Feliz cumpleanos,” she hears someone say in half-decent Spanish from the front door on the other side of the side yard fence.

She doesn’t recognize the voice as yet another cousin or uncle, but Eddie shakes Christopher’s shoulder gently, and says, “hey, guess who’s here.”

It takes a moment, but the words penetrate Christopher’s sleepiness. His eyes pop open and he shimmies out of Eddie’s lap and into his crutches to power walk over to the gate just in time for it to open, admitting Isabel, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and a sheepish looking Buck behind her.

“Buck!” Christopher yells.

Buck’s smile widens and he immediately opens his arms. “Hey, superman!”

Buck crouches down and Christopher throws his arms around his neck, crutches and all. When it’s time to break apart, Christopher’s still hanging on and Helena feels a stab of dark vindication at what’s about to happen, and the look Ramon sends her way tells her she’s not alone. Because Christopher is now officially in the double digits, and while he’s always been an independent kid, becoming 10 years old was a big deal for him and his perceived level of maturity, and apparently the year he decided no one was allowed to carry him anymore.

And now Christopher’s tired and in the grip of a powerful sugar crash. He’s not going to suffer any indignities, and Helena knows she should feel bad about not trying to stop Buck. About just watching this play out to see him be rejected. But she wasn’t expecting to see him here, in this safe haven of Isabel’s backyard, in this space for family and loved ones, and it rankles her. It feels like everywhere she turns in LA, she finds him there. And his being here is just another nail in the coffin of Eddie stubbornly refusing to let his parents back into his home. That he would call his friend to this party just to avoid letting them give him a ride…

So she’s a little bitter, a little resentful of the persistent, low-key rejection. Sue her. Eddie has made it clear he doesn’t want them interfering anyway so this is on him.

“Christopher,” Eddie calls, a warning to not make a scene.

Buck looks over Christopher’s shoulder and smiles. “He’s fine,” he says.

Then he’s heaving Christopher’s body up into his arms and onto his hip and Christopher…

...Christopher slumps down over Buck’s shoulder like a baby koala. No sound of protest leaves his lips. His face, if it shows any displeasure, is hidden behind Buck’s neck.

And when Eddie gets up, it’s not to intercede, it’s only to grab the errant crutches before they hit something, and to pull his own armless chair out for Buck to sit on because apparently Buck is staying, and apparently Christopher is staying with him.

“He’s a bit old to be carried around, no?” Ramon says with a bite, because he can’t help himself.

Eddie, who’s been watching his son fondly, barely bats an eye. “He gets cuddly when he’s tired, and Buck’s nearly the only one left who’s big enough to carry him.”

“Ah, that’s why you spend so much time developing these,” Pepa says with a sly smile as she pinches at Buck’s bicep. The same familiar pinch she gave her own grandkids’ cheeks.

“Gracias a Dios,” Isabel adds meaningfully.

“That was adrenaline,” Eddie dismisses with a teasing grin.

“That was 100 squats and 50 pushups a day,” Buck returns blithely. “...and maybe a little adrenaline.”

“What’s this?” Ramon asks before she can.

Instead of prompting more teasing, the mood falls slightly and everyone looks to each other.

Finally, Eddie sighs. “When I got shot, Buck army crawled under a ladder truck to get me out and lifted me into the truck to get to the hospital.”

It strikes Helena suddenly, shamefully, that in the shock of finding out they’d missed the event itself, the hospital stay, and two entire weeks of healing, that they’d never circled back around for details on what actually went down the day it happened.

She never thought to wonder how he got off that street. How he got to the hospital. Who might have saved his life.

And she wishes she were a better person then. Wishes that learning Buck saved her son’s life overpowered her irritation at having him sitting here in Isabel’s backyard like he belonged here when Helena herself barely felt like she did herself. It does help, though.

“They released the street footage of the shooting,” Pepa continues quietly. “It’s on YouTube. Before I even knew it happened, Marguerita from church just sent me a link saying ‘they said it’s a Diaz, do you know him?’ and I saw.”

The idea of her son’s shooting being passed around like a cat video makes Helena sick, but Pepa lamenting how she hadn’t known when she learned about it in a matter of hours and sat on it for weeks…

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Pepa says decisively. “But they have an angle where you can see our Buck here go and get Eddie, pick him up like he doesn’t weigh a thing and get him into the truck to get to the hospital. Probably why he’s alive today. So gracias a Dios for those squats.”

Eddie and Buck are both looking away, both looking safely at Christopher while the table digests the news.

“If you were looking for a story of something really dumb, I can point you in the direction of another video of Buck,” Eddie says, his tone jovial but his eyes strained.

“You need to let that go,” Buck says in a definite whine.

“Do I?” Eddie asks. “Abuela did you see the video of the firefighter who went up the crane all alone?”

“Dios mío, Buck,” Pepa laments.

“Did you send it to me?” Abuela asks her, pulling out her phone and her glasses to check.

“No, mamá, it was an idiot firefighter but I didn’t realize it was the one we knew.”

“In the middle of an all-out declaration of war on firefighters,” Eddie begins, quietly for Christopher’s sake, but impassioned, sitting up in his chair, “this idiota and his squat count climbed up a crane ladder, completely exposed and defenseless—”

Buck looks pained. “I was wearing a bulletproof vest and a helmet. And that’s the job sometimes—”

“The paramedics’ job, actually, which you aren’t. So, no, that wasn’t the job.” Eddie’s tone edges into something darker without his meaning to. He takes a drink of his lemonade looking for all the world like he wished it was a beer. “And you know that or I wouldn’t have found out about it from Chim a month after the fact.”

Helena clenches her jaw tight and squeezes Ramon’s hand even tighter so neither of them can say, So you have a problem being left in the dark too?

“Buck,” Isabel sighs with disappointment.

Buck winces. “It was before— ” He cuts himself off, his wide eyes darting towards Helena and Ramon of all people.

“Hmm,” Isabel answers noncommittally, as if to end the conversation.

Just then, Sophia brings out a platter of bite-sized desserts, making the rounds of the whole circle for people to pick at before leaving it on the table. The opportunity to move on is there. That doesn’t mean they’re interested in taking it.

“Before what?” Ramon asks, his tone is forcibly casual.

The silence that greets Ramon’s question is heavy. Guilty. When Helena casts her eyes around, she’s greeted by stiff shoulders and a mix of apprehension shared between her son, her mother- and sister-in-law, and Buck.

Mom, listen...

“Before what?” Helena repeats, her voice uncompromising.

———-

The fight they have in Isabel’s guest bedroom is a Hall of Famer. It’s a screaming match, no doubt about it. The doors from the bedroom to the yard are all closed but there’s no question every member of the family — and Buck — can hear every word.

“Do you really hate us that much?” Helena demands. She’s crying but she doesn’t know if it’s heartbreak or fury, she just wishes it’d stop so she could lean into her anger. “Genuinely, honestly, Eddie.”

“I don’t hate you,” he protests, keeping his own voice down, making it seem like they’re irrational for their anger.

“Bullshit,” she spits.

“You must!” Ramon adds. “You hate us so much that you have to hate your sisters too? Your cousins? You would rather leave your only son to a stranger, some gringo coworker, than with family? That’s how much you hate us? Hate our name?”

“Our name?” Eddie shoots back incredulously. “What are you talking about, our name? We’re not royalty, papi, and Chris’ name would never change.”

“You would leave him to your coworker,” Helena stresses, disgust dripping from her tongue.

“To my best friend,” Eddie retorts, “who Christopher adores, if you haven’t noticed. And who adores Christopher right back.”

“That’s not normal, mijo,” Ramon warns.

“Jesus christ,” Eddie seethes. “Please do not star—”

“What kind of single adult man bonds with another man’s child like that?”

“You’re describing a tío, you understand that right? What, you think it’s weird that Pepa loves me like her own? You think Sophia should stay away from Chris too?”

“That’s family,” Helena argues.

“And they’re women!”

“Ramon, shut up,” Helena snaps.

“Buck is our family, and he’s a man, and he’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. If anything happened to me, Christopher would be taken care of like if I was still here.”

“Buck, the one who nearly got him killed in the tsunami? That’s the same guy right?” Ramon throws out, his eyes a little wild as he paces.

“The one who saved his life in that tsunami, despite being injured and then some. And the one who’s saved my life more times than I can count, including from being gunned down on the street. We’d both probably be dead if not f— ”

“Isn’t he the one who’s family is worse off than ours?” Helena recalls. “So he has no family, no support, no girlfriend even! So a worse position than you’re in now. That’s what you want to leave him with.”

“He doesn’t need a girlfriend to raise Christopher right, I don’t! And he has a great sister, he has the 118, he has Carla, and he has our family. You think Abuela and Pepa would shut the door on him? He’d be here every Sunday, with Christopher, just like I am.”

“And what does your girlfriend think of this?” Ramon presses. “The vice principal, she thinks this is normal?”

“Ana doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Eddie says, frowning.

Helena balks. “You think the woman you’ve been seeing seriously for nearly a year has nothing to do with long-term decisions about your son? You think maybe she wouldn’t want the option of taking Christopher in if something happened to you?”

“That’s not happening, he’s going to Buck and that’s final.”

“What’s going on with you and this gringo?” Ramon asks suspiciously. “Are you even going out with Ana or was that another lie?”

“Ramon, don’t go there,” Helena sighs, her heart clenching. That’s all they need in this clusterfuck, that layer of pain.

“No, let’s go there because you know what?” Eddie asks darkly. “There is no one on this planet I trust with my son more than Buck and yeah, if we need to lay it all out there, that includes the two of you. I know you love Christopher, just like I know Shannon loved him, but that’s not always going to be enough. Buck isn’t going to fill my son’s head with ideas about the wrong kind of way to love someone. He’s not going to tell him he’s not good enough for his family to love him or support him. Buck’s going to make sure Christopher grows up to follow his heart and find whatever makes him happiest in the world, no matter what that looks like.”

“How could you think—”

“What if he grows up to be gay?” Eddie asks pointedly, staring his father down. “You’re telling me you’re going to be the one to help him pick out a suit to go to prom with his boyfriend?”

Ramon purses his lips but tries, “it’s a different world now,” as if he hadn’t just tried to make crass insinuations just to hurt his son.

“Okay,” Eddie says, not believing him for a moment, “what if he’s trans? Tells you at 15 that he’s a girl and he wants to transition. You’re going to get him on hormone therapy?”

“Eddie that’s not—”

“What if he’s 20 and he tells you he got a girl pregnant by accident and he doesn’t know her enough to love her, and he’s not ready to be a father let alone a husband?”

Helena tries to speak but her throat is suddenly too tight for words to get out.

“You gonna tell him he’s not a man if he doesn’t marry her anyway?”

Ramon says nothing.

“Christopher is going to Buck, and that’s final.”

——————-

Helena and Ramon don’t show up for the third therapy session.

Their plane tickets were only for three weeks, originally, and as the days run out, they don’t talk about extensions.

———-

Helena is sitting out in Isabel’s backyard, trying to conjure up that feeling of serenity she got to bask in for all of two minutes the night of the birthday party.

It’s not working.

They’re going back to El Paso tomorrow, leaving their relationship with Eddie in worse straits than when they arrived.

There’s always been a tension between them and Eddie, but there’s also always been love and respect, and that love and respect formed a polite barrier around the things they couldn’t talk about. It kept their relationship safe. Kept them from getting too close to real honesty where things hurt in ways that couldn’t be walked back.

It feels now like that barrier has fallen. That Eddie’s finally reached the limit of what he could hold back and now there’s nothing to help them pretend everything is okay. Nothing to help Helena believe this is all something that could blow over.

That’s to say nothing of Christopher, who’s never felt as far away as he does now, even while they linger in the same city, only a couple dozen blocks away.

Helena scrolls listlessly through her phone’s camera roll for the last few weeks. There are pictures of Christopher mostly, but Eddie and the rest of the family are there too. It hurts to notice how Eddie is markedly happier in the shots where he’s looking away from the camera. Away from her.

Mom, listen…

Helena opens up Instagram and lets herself forget for a moment that anything is wrong. On Instagram, there is only joy and fun. And Buck.

Eddie hasn’t posted anything to his account in months but starting from the end and working backwards, Buck features heavily. He’s in at least a third of the pictures, usually with Christopher. One of the posts includes a short video that she watches. It’s of the day they unveiled the adapted skateboard, and it nourishes her soul. There’s no sadness here, or tension, only pure radiating happiness and excitement. It’s magical.

And it’s meaningful.

Mom, listen…

Helena is out of her chair and pocketing Isabel’s car keys before she can talk herself out of it. The drive to Eddie’s house is made with a carefully blank mind. She knows if she lets herself think about what she’s going to say, she’s going to spiral and get to a place where all this fear and sadness turn dark and ugly, and she can’t afford to risk it.

Finally, she’s knocking gently on a front door she’s only seen three times in the weeks she’s been here.

Buck answers the door.

————-

The house is quiet when Helena steps in.

She doesn’t bother taking her shoes off this time, she’s not sure how long she’ll be allowed to stay. But she notices that the space where her shoes would have gone is taken up by a pair of large boots she imagines fit perfectly on Buck’s feet.

Buck disappears into the living room and she follows quietly after him. The lights are off but the muted tv glows brightly enough for her to see Eddie reclined on his back on the couch, sleeping, and Buck sitting down on the edge of the coffee table to shake his arm.

Eddie’s always been a light sleeper, especially after the army and Christopher. He doesn’t wake easily now.

He’s wearing the sling, but it’s the only indication that anything is amiss with him. There’s no sign of pain or worry on his face, no tension in his shoulders. He’s practically melted into the recesses of the couch. He’s a picture of comfort. And why shouldn’t he be? He’s in his home, away from family, from expectations, and judgements. Just him and Christopher. And Buck.

Eddie finally takes a deep breath that shows his body is coming around but his eyes stay closed. Buck is murmuring something but she only catches, “ — mom — here.”

Then, at last, Eddie’s eyelids part, and the deep laxness of his body disappears almost in the blink of an eye.

“What?” he croaks, already trying to sit up.

Buck’s hands are already moving to support his back.

“ — says she wants to apologize.”

Eddie scoffs and sits upright, feet firmly planted on the floor as he blinks himself awake.

“Mom?”

“I’m here,” she says, stepping closer into the light of the tv.

Buck catches Eddie’s eye and they have an entire conversation in five silent seconds that ends with Buck nodding and getting up from the table, watching Helena warily as she approaches further.

“Watch your eyes,” Buck says quietly to Eddie before flipping the wall switch and illuminating the room. He lingers for a moment, clearly undecided about leaving, before saying, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Finally, Helena is alone with her son in his home. The quiet is almost peaceful, she doesn’t want to break it. Eddie does instead.

“Buck said you wanted to apologize, so I’m assuming he misheard,” Eddie says wryly.

There are pillow creases on the side of his face and Helena can’t remember the last time she saw him look so disheveled, so at home. It makes her heart ache for the days when she’d have to force him out of bed at noon on weekends, drive him to wrestling practice early in the morning, watch over him as he slept sometimes, just to make sure he was okay.

“Shockingly, no,” she smiles sadly.

Eddie blinks up at her for a moment before shifting down on the couch, leaving her some room to sit. She takes the invitation, but once she’s sitting down with Eddie’s full attention on her, she realizes not preparing what she wanted to say might have been a mistake. She has no idea where to begin. What scab to pick at that won’t cause more bleeding.

Then she remembers Adriana’s words.

What is it, under all the posturing, all the hurt feelings, all the history and baggage...what is it she actually, truly wants to say?

“I’m sorry I missed therapy.”

Eddie huffs a surprised laugh. “Of all the things…”

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “But I am. I…” She forces herself to slow down and consider her words. “I realize that therapy was an olive branch for you. One we took way too late and I’m...I’m just so fucking grateful we were able to take it at all, in the end.”

The tears are coming and there’s nothing she can do to stop them. They gather in the corner of her eyes and she tries to blink them away but has to settle for wiping away the ones that fall anyway.

“You were right,” she says. “You said — and your sister said, and the therapist said — that there’s a lot of hurt, and it’s become too hard to...to connect with each other because of it. And therapy is probably the only bridge through that. So even though I was pissed at you, I should have showed up.”

She hazards a look up at Eddie to find his brown eyes wide and cautiously wondering.

“Therapy is what��s going to help us and the only way to fail at it is to not show up.” It’s what the therapist had said in their first session. It had sounded like an easy thing to do then. “And that’s not okay. I’m not going to do that again.”

Eddie nods and looks away. His fingernails are flicking nervously against each other — a habit he picked up from her. “Is dad on the same page as you?”

Helena takes a deep breath, and blows out, “No, your dad is looking for a match to light the page on fire.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but there’s heavy hurt behind the indifference.

“I hid all of them,” Helena offers, “and left Abuela with the fire extinguisher.”

That gets a small smile.

“I really expected you to be more pissed about it than him,” Eddie says, he reclines against the arm of the sofa but no part of him looks comfortable with this conversation.

“Oh, I am—” The rage swells up in her. The outrage and indignation. But again, Adriana’s voice comes to her. “I...am...really, truly hurt, Eddie. I feel...I feel like you told me I’m not good enough to love Christopher how he needs.”

Eddie’s face collapses with disbelief. “You mean the way you’ve been making me feel since he was born? Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Since the moment Shannon got pregnant, you’ve both been hammering it in on us that we’d never be enough, we’d never be good enough for him. Why do you think I joined the army? Why do you think Shannon ran?”

The accusation makes her breathless, it makes that familiar rage bubble up closer to the surface. “Shannon made her own choices, you’re not going to pin that on us. And so did you.”

“No, I can’t pin that on you. She did choose to leave,” he concedes, his voice hardening. “But you spent five years telling her over and over that nothing she ever did was good enough, and when I got back you did the same to me! ‘Don’t drag him down with you.’ Does that ring any bells?”

“I spent five years helping her, being a second parent to Christopher when she was in over her head. She needed help. She wasn’t cut out—”

“No, she wasn’t,” Eddie agrees. “Neither of us were. We were stupid fucking kids who barely knew each other. She was supposed to get back on a plane to California when the semester was done and instead we got married in the backyard because you told us that’s what we had to do.”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie. You want to blame me for Christopher being born? For raising him in a family with two parents?”

“You’re not listening,” Eddie spits.

“I’m listening to you say over and over how I ruined your life because I didn’t let Shannon get an abortion. And that’s somehow the reason to keep us out of Christopher’s life now?”

“No, you’re not—” Eddie closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. “I love Christopher with everything I am. If I had the chance to go back and do everything differently, I wouldn’t. I would never. Being his father is the most important thing I’ve ever done.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I was a kid in over my head and my parents didn’t know what was best for me. Didn’t know how to help me. And I figured that out on my own, I grew up and became the man I am now on my own.” She wants to argue but he’s on a roll. “And that’s fine, no parent is perfect. I know I’m going to make mistakes and I hope to god Christopher can forgive me, so I need to forgive you yours. But I need you to see me, now. I need you to look at me and realize I’m not that kid you put in a suit in the backyard. I’m not the kid that signed up to get shot at instead of facing his life. I’m not that kid anymore, mom. I’m not.”

“I see that, Eddie.”

“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t constantly be telling me I need to move back to El Paso to take proper care of Christopher. You’d see that our lives are here now. I have a job I love and pays what we need. Christopher loves his school, his friends. He’s a popular, genius kid. He’s happy. I’m happy. And we’re doing good. But you don’t see that. You see that dumbass, scared kid making his next mistakes. And I’m sorry but I’m not going to let you drag me back into that spiral. If you need to be the parent to that kid, I can’t be the kid you’re parenting. I’ve grown up, mom.”

“So,” Helena clears her throat, hoping the waver in it will clear too. “That’s what the guardianship is? We...lost sight of you growing up. We didn’t give you what you needed. So you’re punishing us?”

Eddie sighs as if she didn’t understand.

“No, you know what? No, I’m sorry,” she switches tracks, her voice hard, “how are we supposed to see this new person you’ve become, Eddie? You left El Paso, left us behind, you won’t come home for holidays, you even stopped posting on Instagram, and when we come here to see you’re alive you won’t even let us into your home. So how? How are we supposed to see this magical transformation when you won’t let us in?”

Eddie watches her for a moment, weighing his words. “You show up for therapy.”

And that takes the wind out of her sails.

That’s what she came here for.

To apologize.

Not keep yelling.

Mom, listen…

Helena takes two deep breaths and crooks a smile. “Yeah.”

“You yell a lot.”

Christopher’s voice startles them both, pulling a short grunt of pain from Eddie as his shoulder jerks back. Christopher is leaning against the wall into the living room, wearing the disgruntled pout of someone who was woken up for no good reason.

“Christopher…” Eddie begins, trying to leverage himself off the couch.

Helena pushes him back down, and turns to Christopher, opening her arms.

“I do,” Helena admits softly, as Christopher comes over and leans into her side. “I do yell a lot. I’m...trying to yell less.”

“Dad never yells.”

Eddie smiles tiredly.

“Hmm,” Helena agrees, “I think there’s a lot of things I need to learn from your daddy.”

Christopher nods, his eyes drooping. “He’s the best,” he says, snuggling into her shoulder. She’s getting on a plane tomorrow so she takes the opportunity to relish in this hug, and press a long kiss on his curls.

“Ah, I thought I heard an escape artist on the prowl,” Buck says as he turns the corner.

“We woke him up,” Eddie says redundantly. “We’ll keep it quiet now, buddy.”

“K,” Christopher mumbles.

“Okay, buddy, let’s get you back to bed” Buck says quietly as he leans over to carefully scoop him into his arms. Christopher’s arms loop around his neck like he’s done it a million times, and his head falls to Buck’s shoulder.

“Buck’s the best too,” Christopher mumbles.

Buck’s ducks his face away.

“That’s what I hear,” Helena allows in a tone she hopes is gracious.

As they leave, they can hear Christopher say, “they stole your bed.”

Buck responds but it’s too quiet for them to follow the rest of the conversation.

Eddie ducks his head and sighs.

“That’s why you were keeping us away?” Helena asks, her voice more gentle than she thought she could muster at this point. “Because Buck’s crashing on your couch?”

Now that she’s looking, she spots the folded duvet stacked on the chair in the corner, the pillows tucked neatly below. It only makes her more aware that she found Eddie sleeping soundly on the very same couch.

“I didn’t — I didn’t want questions. I didn’t want dad’s look, the same look he has every time Buck comes up. The same look—” Eddie sighs harshly. “I didn’t feel like fielding questions. He was here for Christopher when I was in the hospital and when I came home… He helps. A lot.”

Helena nods pensively, and surprises herself by finding a kernel of gratitude towards Buck burgeoning in her chest.

“So, speaking of fucking up as parents,” she begins with a crooked smile that fades by the end of the phrase. She doesn’t know how to finish that sentence so she starts a new one. “The...hurt that piles up, that makes it hard to talk through...does some of it come from Matty?”

She can see an instinct flare up in her son to shake his head and dismiss the topic, but he doesn’t let it take hold. It’s time to face this.

“It didn’t help,” he admits.

Eddie and Matty met in sixth grade and became best friends almost instantly. They spent weekends in sleepovers, fought off other classmates to be each others’ group project partners, and spent every summer going to the same camps. Matty was an honorary Diaz before they even hit their teens.

Five years later, Matty came out to his family, and then to theirs. His parents took it well, Eddie’s parents didn’t.

The sleepovers stopped, the summer camps stopped, and if Ramon could have sent Eddie to another class he would have.

The day he came out to them was the last day he stepped foot in the Diaz home, a natural consequence of Ramon having run him out with caustic, angry words.

“We…” Helena licks her lips and looks away to gather her thoughts. “There’s a lot of reasons we reacted the way we did. Ignorance, more than anything. It really was a different world back then. But...the world has kept turning, things have kept changing and we can’t pretend to be ignorant anymore.” She looks Eddie in the eye to say, “we were wrong. We were wrong to chase him away. And if the day comes that Christopher is gay or trans or any of the other words we haven’t learned yet, we’re going to love him just as much as we do now.”

Eddie keeps her gaze for a moment before nodding. “I’m glad to hear it.” The way his shoulders gather near his ears says he doesn’t believe her though he’s trying.

Because when Eddie and Matty stood shoulder to shoulder to tell Ramon and Helena the news, Matty wasn’t the only one crushed. And they know, somewhere deep down, that their reaction was as extreme as it was because they were never fully sure if the hurt in Eddie’s eyes was on behalf of his best friend, or if they exploded before more news could be told.

And it still scares Helena to this day, to this very moment sitting on her son’s couch. It’s why they welcomed Shannon at first, the first girl Eddie really brought home, even though they didn’t approve of her overall.

But she knows now that there’s nothing anymore, not her pride, not her ignorance, that will stop her from trying to bridge the gap between them. So she continues deliberately, “and if this new, grown up version of you comes with any of those words, we’re not going to love you any less either.”

His eyes widen and for a moment she’s looking at her 17 year old son in the living room, eyes wide as Matty runs out of the house. She wishes this moment could replace that one, stamp out that mistake forever. But it can’t, so she has to make this one count even more.

“I’ll still be here, and I’m listening. I...I see you,” she says. “You and Christopher. I see you settled in so well here, even now with your injury.”

Eddie remains quiet, but apprehension creeps across his face and his eyes dart behind her where Buck and Christopher disappeared.

“I see the boots at the entrance,” she continues, her voice pitched low, “the extra toothbrush you forgot to hide away. The tupperwares full of food Isabel and Ana didn’t make. But more than anything, I see Buck. Everywhere.” A smile creeps up her lips. “The only place I didn’t see him was at brunch with Ana and call me crazy but I feel like you would have preferred he was there too.”

Eddie’s lip is being chewed to within an inch of its life, and his eyes are trained on the couch cushion.

“Hey,” she taps his knee. “You...grew up to be a good man, and a good father.” The words are so many years too late but she’s grateful to see them land as Eddie’s eyes begin to shimmer. “And you deserve everything you want for Christopher. Happiness, whatever that looks like.”

Eddie swallows thickly and clears his throat. “And dad?”

“Dad...has his head too far up his own ass to see or hear anything,” Helena admits. “But he’s due for a colonoscopy soon so I’ll work on it.”

Eddie chokes on a laugh that catches him off-guard and suddenly they’re both laughing, quietly so they don’t wake Christopher up again.

When they recover, Eddie invites her to the kitchen for a drink, where Buck is packing Christopher’s lunch for school tomorrow.

When she leaves, her stomach is in knots she imagines won’t smooth out for a few weeks yet, but a weight’s been lifted off her chest and her heart is full in a way it hasn’t been in years.

When she lands in El Paso, her phone pings with a message from Eddie: Hope you had a good flight. Free Friday for a call?

———-

When Friday comes, after catching up with Christopher, Eddie tells them he broke it off with Ana.

Helena digs her nails into Ramon’s knee instinctively, but she prepared him well and despite his continued reservations, all he says is, “That’s too bad, mijo.”

———-

Two months of virtual therapy and video chats later, Eddie tells them he’s bisexual. They react the way they should have all those years ago, and Helena tries to be grateful they got to have this moment at all instead of mourn for the years Eddie lost because of them.

There’s no mention of Buck, but Eddie’s eyes flit fondly over the laptop screen every once in a while at Christopher and someone else off-screen.

The call takes place at 8am LA time, and the sling has been gone for nearly three weeks.

———

At Christmas, Eddie and Christopher are waiting for them with smiles on their faces at LAX’s baggage claim. When they get home, Buck is there opening the door and helping them with their luggage.

Isabel isn’t there to mediate but supper that evening goes smoothly. The tension that lurks is anticipatory on all sides, a feeling of this being too good to last. But by dessert, everyone is sitting back in their chairs and smiling. And when Buck rounds the table to start the clean up, he places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, his thumb brushing the back of Eddie’s neck, and Helena watches as the last bit of strain melts out of his body.

The basket of gauze is nowhere to be found in the bathroom, nor is the purple toothbrush. Instead, there’s a third electric toothbrush standing in line with the rest.

Helena’s been keeping an eye out for opportunities to follow Adriana’s advice. To find the words she actually, truly means, and say them before she runs out of time. So before turning in, she takes Eddie aside and tells him, “I’m really happy you found your home here in LA. I’m really proud of the family you’ve made.”

And when she closes her arms around him, she can feel him fold into her like he used to as a kid, no polite distance or anxiety. Just comfort.

[floraltypes]

Old Beginning Pt. 3

pairings - aaron hotchner x reader, jethro gibbs x reader 

chapters - one, two

summary - a dinner party turned wrong, mentions of past trauma arrises and causes a stir with your emotions 

wc - 2.5k 

an - a little bit of angst, so we’ll see how this turns out !

“So, this is your boyfriend?” Aaron set his attention back on you, now looking at Dave who was coming in with a drink for his friend, handing it off and then setting his attention on the lady friend of the man.

“Uh, yes,” You smiled awkwardly, your boyfriend just staring at your boss as you looked back for someone to get a different conversation going.

“Hotch, introduce us to your girl!” Derek called from the couch. Aaron nodded, moving back a bit to stand right besides her.

“This is Celeste, she is another mom I had met while picking up Jack one evening,” He introduced her, as she smiled proudly, rubbing her stomach.

“Yes, popped two kids out of here,” She joked, tucking a strand behind her ear. “I have pictures! Oh I’m sorry, I’m just so proud of my kids and how they are, I always know how to ruin a party.”

“Oh we don’t mind,” JJ waved her hand in the air. “I have one myself, I’d love to see the pictures,” She smiled, scooting over so Celeste could sit besides her and show her the photos.

“So, Gibbs, you work at NCIS, correct?” Aaron asked, taking a sip of his strong drink while keeping a look on your boyfriend. “Met Y/n there?”

“I did.”

“How did you pass paths?”

“We are on the same team.”

“So, she works underneath you?”

“If you’re technical, than yes. Is there a problem with that?” He questioned back, placing his own drink down and fixing the button on the arm of his suit, the one by his wrists.

“No. Why would there be? I would understand if anyone why having a team working is important, especially in the line of work we have.”

“Good,” He looked down at his phone, silently cursing before looking back at you. “I should take it, it’s Leon,” He grumbled before kissing your cheek and stepping outside.

“Aaron,” You began, messing with your dress a bit as you eyed him, his eyes quickly catching on to a anxious movement and softening the tinniest bit.

“Are you upset? I didn’t say anything wrong,” He shrugged a little, stuffing his hand in his pant pocket. “He’s the one being a bit too serious, I’m loosening up.”

“The slightest bit,” You reminded him.

“Still, I am. I should get back to Celeste and see what she’s now chatting about,” He left you, moving to another seating area in the living room and started to talk a bit with Derek and the woman he had brought.

Gibbs soon walked back inside, annoyance playing out on his features as he walked straight over to you, dragging his fingers through his light grey/white hair.

“I turned in the people who I want on my new team,” He informed you. “Not the best group, but it’ll do.”

“You’ll miss DiNozzo, won’t you? And Ziva and even McGee!” You poked his shoulder playfully. “The flirt, killer, and nerd.”

“I can make a new team without them.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t miss them,” You reminded him, winking a little as he just sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t miss you,” He voiced. “You forgot to add yourself to the team.”

“I know I’m apart of it. Come on, let’s get back to everyone else,” You grabbed his hand, leading him back more inside the house to huddle with him and the others to all sit around the large dining room table.

In front of everyone was a small plate, and a bowl filled with the recent pasta Rossi had made, a fine silver spoon and fork right near, and a pristine white cloth napkin.

You lowered yourself into the seat, Jethro on your left side and Emily on your right, Aaron had sat right across you at the table, now taking his own seat and hovering his glass over the coaster.

“This looks amazing Rossi,” Penelope had complimented, picking up her fork as more signs of approval for the food flowed out of your and other peoples mouths. In the middle of the table was a basket filled with garlic bread and a large bowl of a basic salad with different dressings resting near it.

Everyone started to dig in, getting into little conversations with their neighbors. You chatted with Emily as Jethro chatted with Derek on his side. At one point you imagined hearing a small laugh slip from Jethro’s lips after Derek had made some comment.

“Let’s make a toast!” Emily interrupted the conversations around, taping her glass gently and holding it up. Everyone looked towards her, waiting for her to continue. “One for our special Y/n, joining us once again.”

“To Y/n,” Derek then said, everyone repeating it after him and taking a sip. You looked across to where Aaron was eyeing you, your eyebrows furrowed at his glance as he just took a bit of a bigger gulp, shrugging a little.

“Thanks you guys,” You spoke after your sip, tearing your eyes away from Aaron to land on Spencer. “It’s great to be with all you again.”

“A new start to a bad ending,” Aaron spoke up. “We are glad to have such a great agent back, one who gets the second chance she deserves.” He nodded.

Penelope nodded as well, small smile, Spencer just eating some more bread. You could feel the worried look of Emily land on you, and a inquisitive look from Rossi landing on Aaron. Derek was scratching the back of his neck and Jethro placed a calloused, hand on-top of your clothed thigh, looking at you confused.

“What was the ending?” Celeste questioned, piling some more salad onto her plate and drizzle the dressing ontop. “What happened?” She turned her attention to you, and you noticed your breath hitched a bit. Celeste moved her head to look back at Aaron now, waiting for him to continue.

“Y/n, she should be the one to say.” He swiftly responded.

“Oh, okay, so what happened?” She still had the same wondering look, eating some salad as if the whole memory of that time didn’t make you want to sink underneath the table.

You’d done years of therapy to react better, being a true weakness. It was something that used to keep you up at night, refusing to eat, staring into the plain color of your ceiling.

But now was your chance to prove that it wasn’t a weakness of yours anymore, that you’d overcame it, and your fellow teammates wouldn’t have to worry about you like they did back then.

“I left the FBI, due to a big loss I had experienced,” You spoke up, quickly taking a drink from the one in front of you to help calm your nerves a bit.

“Who died?”

You almost spitted out your drink due to how straightforward she was, choking the slightest bit on it and trying to control the bulge of your eyes.

“A family member,” You scratched the palm of your hand, keeping a view on her but also trying to make it less subtle. The whole room was quieting much now, and two stares made it feel like the room had gotten smaller.

“I don’t mean to pry. I’ve lost some family as well, but talking about it, I’ve seen, makes it easier to deal with. Which family member?”

“That’s a bit of a personal question,” JJ awkwardly chuckled a bit. “I don’t think it’s need-”

“My son did, he was only two years old,” You admitted, putting the drink down and trying not to mess with your fingers so much in your lap. Jethro grabbed your one hand, wrapping his fingers around you and replacing the rise in his eyebrows to a face of sorrow.

You’d never really told Jethro the story, just brushing it off that you lost someone and that’s the reason you had moved to be apart of the NCIS team. It was something he always wanted to know more, wondering why you left out a tiny blue car on-top of a shelf in your home, standing out considering the other things that were littered around.

“Oh my!” Celeste slapped a hand to her mouth, the girl Derek had brought mumbled something to him as well, both looking at you with such sadness and sympathy. You could feel the sickening feeling in your stomach once again, making you want to throw up the contents that now rested in it. “Wow. I’m so sorry!”

She stood up from her chair, tears reaching her lash line as she went around the table to come by you and embrace you in a unnecessary hug. The grip Jethro had on your hand had disappeared when her arms landed around you waist and the squeezing started.

“I love my kids so much! I have a little boy. I’d practically kill myself if something happened to him. Why a mother has no other duty except for her children. I can’t imagine how you feel.”

You realized with those few sentences that she didn’t really think before she spoke, guilt now settling in. You could see Emily trying to gently tug her away.

“Celeste,” Aaron eventually spoke up. “Why don’t we go and fill some glasses?” She removed her arms, touching her stomach once more with a look of gratefulness, and walked away. 

Emotions were swarming all within you, her word choice, was she secretly making a comment about you? About how you handle the death?

Looking over at Jethro, you noticed a look of remembrance in his own eyes, most likely regarding his own family that had passed. You’d never talked about the death with your boyfriend, preferring to keep it private, only once mentioning it was a child, but specifically never what gender or name.

He understood, never being eager to talk about his own loss, but you knew all about it due to a case revolving around some factors of his loss. You tried your best to help him open up and see someone to discuss it, clearly still having a hard time regarding it, which was understandable, but still needing to chat with someone professional.

“Y/n,” JJ began, soft voice as all eyes on you immediately became caring and long, just staring at you, waiting for you to break, waiting for something new to happen.

It was the same thing that happened when you found the boy, stares, pity, so much pity, but awaiting at the same time, for you to sob and cry till you couldn’t anymore. But in the moment, only small tears slipped, you couldn’t process what was happening, you couldn’t sob.

Surprisingly, that pain was more than someone would expect. For once in your life you really wanted to cry, cry hard and long till your voice was hurting, but you couldn’t, you couldn’t, and it made you look like a horrible mother.

Simply standing up, you put on a brave smile and pushed your chair in, exiting the room with your boyfriend trailing after you with a new found of eagerness.

You could hear soft whispering as you made it to the outside, sitting down on the step and letting the cool air hit your face, trying to enjoy the air.

“Y/n,” Jethro sat down next to you, putting his hand on your knee and rubbing his thumb. But you couldn’t cry, it’s like you couldn’t even breathe, just staring out into the dark setting in front. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be okay,” You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Just, just wasn’t expecting that and all.”

“I wish you would’ve told me about it sooner, so I could’ve helped you more,” He admitted softly, softer than the man normally spoke.

“I told you most of it, wether he was a boy or his age, they matter, but not for you to get the gist of it,” You swung your head around, a few tears sliding down your cheeks but you quickly wiped them away. “You would’ve never told me about your loss if it wasn’t involved in a case.”

“This isn’t about them.”

“Shouldn’t it be? We might as well get it all out, right? Isn’t that what you want me to do, but you can’t even do it yourself.”

“This isn’t about them. Stop.”

“I don’t think it’s fair that you get to choose,” You shook your head back and forth, standing up and smoothening down your dress. “I don’t think this is fair.”

“What do you mean?” He harshly asked, stepping away, a confused yet agitated look on his features.

“I don’t know. Just how, how I’m here and I have to do this and that. How, how, oh never mind,” You were getting upset, not able to get your words out, refusing to let them leave.

“It’s not fair that my life had to be exploited for a case, have you thought about that? What if I wanted to reveal my loss of wife and daughter in a different way, instead of having to deal with it all at once?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t make you!”

“And I’ve never made you tell me about yours!”

“I-I don’t think I’m ready, for this, for everything. I need some time to breathe, I’ve moved to fast, I-I think we should take a break.”

“You know,” He took a deep breath, running his hands through his grayish hair. “If, if that’s what you think is right, then do it. We’re done.” He moved past you back into the house, opening the front door to grab his coat and coming out to go straight back to his car.

“Bye, Jethro” You mumbled, watching as his car all left the drive way and headed off down the road, hands fiddling in your lap. You felt so confused, everyone always said you’d move fast, how you’d never really cared about your son. Were they right? Were you ever supposed to try and find love again, or try to?

Everything you did was wrong, everything was falling apart and all those emotions you tried to push away were bubbling back over, making the new life you’ve made for yourself come trampling down.

“Let’s get you home,” A deep voice spoke, looking up was Aaron, placing a coat around your shoulders and helping you to stand. “Come on,”

But how could you go home? There was no home? Did you even have a person to call home anymore?

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