#there were two asks like this. and then i got four more in like two days
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birdiewritessometimes · 1 day ago
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Tutor
A/N: Soft hours ;-; this goes out to all my academic over achievers out there, girl me too. One beautiful anon who requested soft Matt or soft Theo got me thinking about this! Also please don’t skip meals, food is fuel <3
Also, also, I’ve heard your demands, and I have added a summary!
This has been a struggle tbh, I love it but I’m also not happy with it. Oh well, I hope you guys enjoy it <3
Summary: As Professor Flitwick assign you to tutor Theodore Nott in charms you two develop a strange friendship that brings a new set of friends into your life. Theodore helps you see that there might be more to life than just studying in the library every day.
Pairing: Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw!reader
Themes/warnings: Reader is overworking herself, skipping meals, self-doubt, sleep-troubles, cursing, fluff, found family, clichés (but oh what I love them), kissing, Italian pet names (Italians, I’ve tried to do some research, and I hope I didn’t butcher them, please let me know if I did though!), is this qualified as a slow burn?,  mentions of a dead parent.
Word count: 10 000-ish
Please do not copy or translate my work!
“But Professor, please. I really need to focus on my own work.” You pleaded with your charms professor and your head of house, Professor Flitwick. He was a short, clever man. You really liked him; he was a good teacher and a good head of house. Which is why you were feeling slightly guilty for pleading with him not to assign you to be a tutor.
“I’m sorry Miss l/n, I’m afraid you’re the best one for the job. Mr. Nott really needs an outstanding in his OWL in charms. Professor Snape asked me to help make it happen, and I have no doubt you are more than capable.” Flitwick said, an encouraging smile on his face. You felt your shoulders sag in defeat.
“Are you sure you can’t ask anybody else?” You asked, your last simmer of hope to be able to study undisturbed faded as you saw your professors head shake no.
“Alright, I’ll do it.” You said in defeat. Professor Flitwick smiled up at you from his seat behind his wooden desk.
“Excellent Miss l/n!” He said as he clapped his hands together. He paused when he saw your defeated expression, “Oh, Miss l/n, please try to see this as a learning opportunity, maybe young Mr. Nott could teach you something too.” He added, a sympathetic smile on his face as he surveyed your defeated form.
“Okay, I will.” You said, trying to brighten your own voice, “I’ll see you later, Professor.” You added while giving him a small smile before turning around to leave his office. Professor Flitwick’s office led out into the charms classroom that resided on the third floor, in the charms corridor. The classroom was dimly lit, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow on the wooden floor in the middle of the classroom. The benches were empty except for one where a tall boy sat. His legs were sprawled out in front of him, effectively making the chair look small beneath him. He was fidgeting with the ring that sat on his index finger. His head shot up when he heard your footsteps echo on the wooden floorboards.
“I’ll tutor you every Tuesday and Thursday, four o’clock in the library, don’t be late.” You said after you stopped right in front of the desk he was sitting in. He was looking up at you with his steely blue eyes, a tired expression in his eyes. He gave you a short nod as he stopped fidgeting with his ring.
“Good, I’ll, uh, see you then.” You said, giving what you thought was a friendly smile. The least you could do was to at least try to be friendly, it wasn’t his fault that you were in this situation. Come to second thought, it kind of was, but you can’t blame the guy for being stupid.
“Right, see you.” He said after he cleared his throat. His voice was deep and rich. You noticed that he didn’t have a British accent like most students in the school. You couldn’t quite place your finger on what accent it was though. But it added to the smoothness of his voice making you wonder why he didn’t speak more often. You gave him another small smile before turning around to head to the library.
The library was quiet when you entered, some students were scattered around the room. The smell of old books and burning fires hit your nose as you walked towards your usual space. It was in the corner, near one of the fires making it the perfect spot for studying, away from the cold draft that usually swept through the castle regardless of season. You spent most of your free time studying, finding yourself lost in books and books about different magical topics. You did this mostly because your dream was to one day become an unspeakable. The Department of Mysteries intrigued you but the way there meant top grades and hard work. And that’s just what you did, worked hard and got top grades. But that also meant that you had to spend your free time in the library, studying.
You sat down in one of the cushioned chairs around the table, gently placing your Ravenclaw robe on the seat next to you along with your bag. You pulled out the ancient runes-book. The worn leather rough against your fingers as you placed it on the table along with your quill, inkpot and some parchment. You opened the book at the bookmark and got to work. For hours you poured over the runes, their translations and writing down their meanings. The only thing that reminded you of the time was your back being stiff and your butt numb. Taking a glance at your watch you noticed that it was almost time for curfew. With a yawn you stood up. You quickly packed your things, grabbed your robe and hurried through the castle and up to Ravenclaw tower. After you got ready for bed, you fell asleep the second your head hit your pillow, sleeping through yet another restless night.
The next day you awoke feeling tired. It was a Tuesday which meant tutoring with Theodore after your last lesson of the day. Noticing the time, and that breakfast was soon to be over, you hurriedly got ready. You added light makeup to hide the dark circles that was accumulating under your eyes from another night where it felt like you didn’t sleep. Collecting your books for the day you dashed out of your dorm and hurried to the great hall. When you entered you found your seat next to the girls you share your dorm with. They were by no means your friends, but you could eat and make small talk with them, which was good enough for you. When you had quickly eaten a piece of toast you once again dashed away towards your classes for the day. The lessons went by quickly, like usual. Before you knew it lunchtime came. You actually had time to eat your meal calmly before you headed to your last two lessons for the day. These lessons went by as quickly as the ones in the morning did. Maybe it was because you had revised the material beforehand, or maybe time just went by quicker when you learned something.
It was a quarter to four when you walked into the familiar air of old books and warm fires of the library. You took your usual seat by the fire, placed your robes and bag on the chair next to you before picking up your copy of the Standard Book of Spells, grade 5, the large book heavy in your hands as you placed it on the table with a thud. You gently flickered through it as you waited for Theodore to show up. You refreshed your memory for some of the spells as you looked through the book. After around five minutes you heard low footsteps come nearer your spot by the warm fire, away from the chilly autumn breeze that seemed to drift through the castle. Looking up you saw Theodore approaching your table. His hair was its usual floppy self. He had rid himself of his Slytherin cloak, the material hanging over his forearm. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as well as loosened his tie and leaving the top button unbuttoned. You kept looking him over until he stood beside you, looking down at you.
“Hi.” You said softly as you gestured for him to sit. He gave you a nod of acknowledgement before placing his bag and cloak on a chair around the table before sitting down in the seat next to yours. You let him take his time packing up, he was early after all.
“So, is there anything in particular you want to start with?” You asked cautiously when he had placed his copy of the textbook on the table, along with a notebook, a quill and an inkpot.
“I’ve had problems with the locomotion charm.” He shrugged nonchalantly. So, he was not a talkative person, that’s fine, you thought. You were surprised by his honesty, though you by no means had an opinion on the boy beside you, you knew he was friends with a group of troublemaking boys. You had assumed he would wave it all off or say that he didn’t need your help, so when he admitted, although with some air of nonchalance, what he was struggling with it surprised you.
“Okay,” you nodded, “how about we start with that one and then revise the others?” You suggested as you flipped through the worn book to the page of the locomotion charm. You saw how Theodore nodded in agreement with your suggestion. You went over the basic theory of the charm, explaining things such as wand movement and what the spell was useful for. It took you around five minutes before you zipped closed your pencase, plopping it down before the tall, brooding boy next to you.
“Alright, enough chitchat, show me what you’ve got.” You said with what you hoped was an encouraging smile. Not that he was looking at you, he was busy sending an icy glare at your pink fuzzy pencase. He was looking like he was personally offended by its presence. You flicked your hair over your shoulder as you turned in your seat to face him.
“Okay, so what crimes has my pencase committed against you?” You asked, a playful note in your voice as you studied him. This seemed to pull him out of his staring match with the pencase as he raised an eyebrow at you in a silent question.
“Don’t look at me, it was you who was having a staring competition with an inanimate object.” You shrugged, a small giggle escaping you. You saw how he cracked the smallest of smiles at your comment. You had to admit that his smile was cute, really cute actually.
“Alright, come on, show me.” You nodded at your pencase again and his small smile fell. With a sigh he picked up his wand from the table. He cleared his throat as he pointed his wand at the fuzzy pencase in front of him.
“Locomoto pencase.” He said, his voice smoot and deep. He did the upwards motion with his wand, but nothing happened. You noticed right after he had said the incantation that he has mispronounced it. He let out a sigh of frustration as he looked away from you, embarrassed. You felt some sympathy for him as you placed a gentle hand on his arm, effectively making him look at you.
“Hey, you did good. You just didn’t pronounce the incantation correctly,” You said softly, a kind smile on your face, “it’s locomotor with an r.” You explained.
“Alright, let me try again.” He muttered, surprising you with his words. You nodded encouragingly, letting him try again. This time the pencase hovered for a while before falling down on the table in front of him with a low thud.
“See! Try concentrating more next time.” You said, excitement in your voice. Theodore flashed you that small smile again, making you feel warm inside, before trying the spell for the third time. He made the pencase move around the table for a while before it fell with a thud again.
“Good job Theodore!” You cheered him on, “how about some theory?” You suggested, to which he nodded. He placed his wand on the table, scooting back in his chair, sprawling his legs out as he picked up the leatherbound textbook in his large hands, effectively making it look weirdly small. Your eyes travelled up to his face and saw that he was already looking at you, an expectant look in his eyes. You quickly looked away from him as you cleared your throat. You felt a blush dust your cheeks when you heard a faint chuckle from the boy next to you. Straightening in your chair you started to explain some more in-depth theory. Time went on rather quickly as you quizzed Theodore on some things and asked him to explain some others back to you. He was improving quickly, making you feel somewhat proud of him. In the last moments before it was time for dinner, he practiced the charm once more on your pencase. This time the pencase zoomed up and down from the table, making it do flips and other tricks around the table before he stopped it right in front of you. The pencase fell on top of your book with a muted thud.
“Good job Theodore! Look at you!” You said, not being able to contain your enthusiasm. He let out a shy sort of chuckle at that as he averted his eyes from you.
“Thanks for helping me.” He mumbled, still looking away. His words stunned you as you turned your head to really look at him. He didn’t seem like his usual stoic, broody self. He seemed more embarrassed and defeated now, making the sympathy you had for him earlier to come back.
“Hey,” you said softy, placing your hand on his arm effectively making him look at you once again, “we all need a little bit of help from time to time, it’s nothing to worry about.” He looked at you, an unreadable look in his usually tired eyes. The background faded as your heartbeat sped up, making you feel warm inside.
“Thank you.” He mumbled, not tearing his eyes from yours. The air around you shifted as you looked into each other’s eyes, making your heartbeat race even more. The air around you became almost palpable as you sat there together.
“You’re welcome.” You breathed out. Your eye-contact broke when there was a loud thud from someone dropping a book somewhere in the library. Coming back to reality you straightened up as Theodore cleared his throat awkwardly.
“I’ll, uh, see you Thursday?” He said as he hurriedly put his things in his bag. You nodded at him.
“Yeah, see you Thursday.” You mumbled, giving him a small smile before he walked off to dinner. You slowly packed your things away in your bag before you made your way to the great hall for dinner as well. On your walk there he was on your mind. You wondered why he was so cold and quiet. Your mind drifted to his deep, smooth voice as you thought back to the tutoring session. And how he had beautiful eyes, cold, blue and tired, yet they intrigued you. Like he was pulling you into him. You were lost in thought when you arrived at the big oak doors that led to the great hall. You absentmindedly walked in and sat down at the long wooden table, next to the girls in your dormitory. You plated some beef stew and potatoes on the porcelain plate in front of you.
As you ate your eyes drifted over the great hall, scanning the groups of students who were chatting to each other excitedly. Your eyes soon drifted over the Slytherin table. The table was filled with students, some were chatting, others reading or just minding their own business. Your eyes then met the steely blue ones that belonged to Theodore. He caught you off guard, but you couldn’t seem to look away from him either. You sat there looking at each other for a moment, the background once again fading, before he looked away first, laughing at something his friends said. You turned back to your food, eating as you thought about him.
He remained in your thoughts during the next day. You found yourself thinking about him when you were eating your meals, when you were walking to classes, and you even found your thoughts drifting to him when you were studying. You were wondering things about him that you have never cared about before with others. Like where he grew up? Did he have any siblings? What was his parents like? While you found yourself thinking more about him you started to notice him more around the castle too, noticing him in classes or that your paths crossed on your way to different lessons.
The day had passed quickly, now with your thoughts occupied by both Theodore and school. You had just finished dinner and were on your way towards the library to get in some more studying before bed. When you entered the entrance hall you heard rowdy voices from a group of boys and when you lifted your gaze you saw the Slytherin quidditch team. You assumed they were heading to the quidditch pitch to practice since they were walking towards the great doors. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought of being outside right now. The rain was whipping against the windows of the castle as the winds were harsh. Your eyes fell on Theodore who were walking next to his friend, Mattheo Riddle. You never thought you would find a quidditch player attractive but by judging from the leap your heart did when you saw him in his uniform you found yourself proven wrong.
Pictures of Theodore in his emerald green quidditch robes, his broom propped up on his shoulder, flooded your brain as you walked to the library. None of the boys had noticed you when they had stridden across the entrance hall and out into the stormy weather. Opening the doors to the library you were immediately enveloped in a warm hug of burning fires and old books. You slowly made your way to your usual seat in the far back corner. The wooden chair scraped against the floor as you took your seat on the cushioned seat. You pulled out the leather-bound transfiguration book, opting to read up on the topic Professor McGonagall discussed during the transfiguration lesson you had earlier during the day. The rain was smattering against the window next to the fireplace, the sound mingling with the cracks and pops of the burning wood in the fire making you relax as you settled in your seat to study the whole evening. You worked long into the hours of the evening, your numb butt once again reminding you of curfew, making you hastily pack up your books and other materials before making your way to bed.
Thursday went by quickly, lessons flying by in a haste and before you knew it you were seated in the library, a quarter to four in the afternoon, flipping through the Standard Book of Spells, grade 5 again. It was a particularly cold day today, making you wear your Ravenclaw sweater over your button up to shield yourself from the cold mid-November air. The fire next to your table seemed to nothing to keep the chill at bay. You sent a glare at it as you shivered once more, trying to urge it to make the room hotter, or else.
“Look who’s now having a staring contest with an inanimate object.” The deep voice of Theodore pulled you out of your thoughts about threatening a fire, you really needed a good night’s sleep. You looked to the side of you and saw how Theodore plopped down in his chair, his fluffy hair flopping on his forehead in the process. He was wearing his Slytherin uniform in his usual dishevelled way, his robes draped over his arm once again.
“What did that fire do to you, huh?” He asked, a small smirk on his lips when he turned back to look at you, the Standard Book of Spells in his hands.
“It didn’t keep me warm.” You said, your teeth clattering slightly as you spoke. You were rubbing your arms with your hands, trying to warm yourself with the friction. Theodore let out a huff-like chuckle.
“Come on y/n, it’s not that cold.” He said, the smirk slightly wider now, making you smile lightly at him. It seemed like he was more comfortable around you this time, already talking more than he did the last time you met.
“It is, but that’s no- hey!” You let out when he stood up and before you knew it, he had grabbed his robes that he had hung over the back of one of the chairs around the table and draped it over your shoulders. His action stunned you as he pulled the material tighter around your shoulders, fixing it.
“Where did you put your own robes?” He muttered as he sat down in his seat again, looking at you expectantly for an answer. Coming back from your momentary chock you looked at him, sure a blush was on your cheeks.
“I forgot them in my dorm.” You mumbled, now feeling the heat of the blush on your cheeks. Your fingers moved to clutch the woolly fabric of his winter robes, subconsciously pulling it closer around you as his cologne hit your nose. It smelled fresh, like freshly laundered clothes but it had a hint of citrus and the obvious cigarette smell that lingered on the garment. The smell was surprisingly comforting as it surrounded you like a hug. Theodore let out a chuckle at your answer to his question.
“So, what are we doing today, teach?” He then asked, a tone on nonchalance in his voice as he turned back to face straight forward. The nickname made you smile, it made you grateful that he was trying to be friendly too.
“I was thinking that we really perfect the locomotion charm, you know so it really sticks.” You suggested. Theodore nodded as he picked up his wand. He was more eager today than he was last Tuesday, it made you smile as you zipped up your pencase again and plopped it on the table before him. He cleared his throat before performing the spell. You sat next to him as you looked on as he made your pencase move around on the table. It seemed like he lost concentration once because he dropped the pencase. But you encouraged him to go again, and he did. After he was done making your pencase perform circus tricks on the table he tried the charm on something heavier, your stack of schoolbooks that you had placed on the table for later. He had no problem making them move around at his will as he performed the charm.
Tutoring Theodore was easier than you thought, he seemed to have no problem learning and perfecting the spells when you were working on them together. He took his time and perfected the locomotion charm just as you had suggested, even going so far as to answer every question you asked him about it correctly. You felt proud of him when your tutoring session came to an end.
“Really good job Theodore!” You beamed at him, the feelings of happiness and pride taking over you. He smiled shyly as he thanked you, not being used to the praise that you were giving him. You might have been seeing things, but you were sure you saw a faint blush on the boy’s cheeks from your complement. As it was time for dinner he stood up and slowly packed away his things.
“Oh, right, thank you for letting me borrow your robes, Theodore.” You smiled as you started to shrug of the garment that had been keeping you warm the two hours you had been working together. He shook his head at you, making you pause.
“You can keep it for tonight if you want, I have a couple of others.” He said, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets and looked down at his feet. You felt a blush creep up on your face again.
“Are you sure? Aren’t you going to be cold?” You asked shyly making him look at you, that small smirk on his face again.
“Nah, I’m good, you look like you need it more.” He said, his tone considerably lighter than before.
“I’ll give it back to you tomorrow?” You suggested to which he shrugged his shoulders somewhat nonchalantly.
“That’s fine, honestly it’s no stress.” He said as he hoisted his bag on his shoulder.
“Thank you, Theodore.” You smiled at him gratefully as you pulled his cloak tighter around your body again.
“It’s fine, bella.” He said casually, but as he said the nickname it clicked in your head.
“You’re Italian?” You blurted out as he was about to turn around to leave. He raised an eyebrow at you, the smirk back on his face again.
“I am, why?” He asked, somewhat amused by your outburst. You started to feel stupid by your actions, letting out a nervous chuckle.
“I, uh, have been trying to figure out where your accent’s form…” You trailed off, feeling more stupid by the second. He let out a chuckle at this.
“My mum was Italian; I moved here when I was 10.” He explained but your mind got stuck on ‘was’. His mum was Italian, not is. He had lost his mum. The thought weighed on your mind as you looked up at him as he stood beside your chair. You weren’t sure on what to say to this. You saw how his smirk had dropped slightly when he had mentioned his mum as well, it was obviously a painful topic for him.
“Oh, I’m sorry Theodore.” You said softly, feeling heartbroken for him. He gave you a half-hearted smile.
“It’s okay, it was a long time ago.” He shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant. You gave him a weak smile, still feeling very sorry for him. He gave you a half smile back before clearing his throat.
“Well, I got to go to dinner,” He said, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, “see you, bella.” He said, his small smirk back on his face again, making you smile back at him.
“See you, Theodore.” You said softly before he turned around and walked towards the exit of the library. You looked after him until he was out of your line of sight before you reluctantly turned back to your books, picking up your textbook on the goblin rebellions. You had an essay due next week and decided now would be a good time to start writing it. Once again you worked into the long hours of the evening before you decided that enough was enough and made your way to Ravenclaw tower. Theodores cloak was heavy and warm against your shoulders as you walked through the corridors and up the staircases that lead to Ravenclaw tower. When you arrived at your dorm you folded the cloak neatly before getting ready for bed.
When you awoke Friday morning you were surprised that you felt rested for the first time in a long time. You felt like your mood were better than normal, the usual stress you felt now better. You got ready, collected your books for the day and grabbed Theodores robes before you went down to breakfast, assuming you would see him there, but you were wrong. No big deal, he maybe overslept, and you were just handing him his robes back, you could do that at any time. Throughout the day you looked for Theodore in the crowds, classes and during the meals. It was now dinnertime, and you hadn’t seen him all day. As you walked towards the library after dinner, you decided to actually go to the quidditch match to give him back his robes tomorrow. It was the first game of the season, Slytherin against Hufflepuff and you knew Theodore was on the Slytherin quidditch team alongside his friends.
After another long night of studying you awoke Saturday morning, feeling tired once more. You dragged yourself out of your warm bed, feeling shivers go through your body as your feet hit the cold floor. You made your bed, making sure the royal blue cover laid neatly over your bed before you tied back the blue curtains with the bronze cords. You looked out of the window to see the weather, it looked like a crisp day, the grounds were covered in glittering white frost, but no snow to be seen and the sky was clear. If you had to guess this had to be optimal quidditch conditions. You picked out a warm, comfortable outfit, bringing a warm jacket, mittens and earmuffs to keep warm in the high quidditch stands. Topping it all off with your Ravenclaw scarf. When you arrived at breakfast most of the students had left, probably to get warmer clothes for the match. You ate a piece of toast and had a cup of warm coco before you started to make your way to the stands. You were right, it was very cold out, you were thanking yourself for brining such warm clothing as the icy winds swept through the high stands where you were standing along the rest of your house.
You were standing next to the girls with whom you shared your dorm, Theodore’s robes neatly folded in your mitten clad hands. You made small talk with them as you waited for the match to start. The spectators erupted in cheers (and boos) as the two teams made their way onto the pitch. The seventh year Slytherin captain shook hands with Hufflepuffs captain Cedric Diggory, a handsome sixth year. You saw how both teams mounted their brooms as your eyes scanned the Slytherin team for Theodore. You found him just as they kicked off, he was soaring towards the Slytherin goal posts. He was a keeper. You heard Madam Hootch’s whistle signalling that the game had begun but your eyes were on him the entire game. He was unbelievable. He caught almost every ball, only letting in one or two goals, you weren’t counting. You couldn’t help but think about how good he looked in his green quidditch robes, hair windswept and his usually tired eyes determined. The Slytherin team were making goal after goal and they were leading by so much that, after about two hours, when Cedric had caught the snitch Slytherin still won by sixty points.
You saw how the Slytherin team were cheering on Theodore and Blaise, one of the chasers that did the most goals, when you started to make your way down to the pitch along with the rest of the spectators. You slowly made your way onto the pitch, feeling out of your element and uncertain what to do you decided to stand slightly to the side to let the boys celebrate together. You were standing next to a Slytherin girl in your year, Pansy Parkinson as the two of you waited for the boys to calm down.
“Who’s your boyfriend?” She asked with the same air of nonchalance that most Slytherins seemed to have as she looked at the group. You knew who her boyfriend was, Draco Malfoy, the seeker on the team.
“Oh, I, uh, no-”
“Bella!” Theodore interrupted you as he jogged up to you a surprised but happy look on his face. You felt your face break out in a smile as you saw him running towards you. But before you could say or do anything he had reached you, thrown his arms around you and picked you up, spinning you around. You let out a squeal in surprise quickly letting one of your arms snake around the tall boy’s neck so you wouldn’t fall, you other hand holding the reason you came to the match in the first place, his cloak.
“What are you doing here?” He asked you as he put you down, a broad smile on his face as he looked down at you. You were sure you were blushing from his hug, but you decided to let it go, emotions were just running high after the match. He would have hugged anyone like that, you thought.
“I came to congratulate you on your good match,” You said, and you saw how his smile became even wider in happiness, it made you smile too, “and to give you this back, since I didn’t find you yesterday.” You said softly as you handed him the thick fabric of his cloak. He took it in one of his large hands, the other, you just noticed, was still resting on your waist. If you weren’t blushing from before you had to be now, hopefully you could blame the wind. Just as he was about to say something he was interrupted by his best friend and one of the beaters, Mattheo.
“Oi, Theo, who are you hiding there?” You could hear the teasing note in the voice. Theodore was giving you an apologetic look before he gave you a gentle squeeze on the waist before letting go just as Mattheo, Lorenzo, the other beater, and Blaise joined you. They were looking at the two of you with great interest making you chuckle in embarrassment.
“Uh, hi, I’m y/n, I tutor Theodore.” You said while giving a wave at the boys, to break the weird silence that had fallen upon the group.
“Teach?” They all exclaimed, making you smile and raise an eyebrow in a silent question at Theodore who suddenly seemed to find the sky extremely interesting.
“We call you teach because Theo refused to tell us who you were.” Lorenzo explained.
“Yeah, he thought we were going to hassle you or something.” Mattheo playfully scoffed, making you let out a giggle.
“Yeah, because that’s not something you would do.” You said, a smile on your face.
“Exactly, we would- hang on, you’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?” Mattheo said, his eyes narrowed in a joking manner. You feigned a look of innocence.
“What? No of course not, I would never.” You let out, your voice dripping with fake innocence. Lorenzo, Blaise and Theodore chuckled as you batted your eyelashes jokingly at Mattheo.
“You know what, I like you,” Mattheo turned to Theodore, “I like her, why didn’t you introduce us right away, she can obviously handle some hassling.” He said, a smirk on his face making you laugh. Theodore shook his head in feign annoyance.
“Yeah, yeah whatever Mattheo.” Theodore muttered as he rolled his eyes before turning to you, “we have to go change, maybe I’ll see you later?” He asked, completely ignoring his friends who were now dramatically reenacting people kissing and batting their eyelashes at each other. You let out a chuckle at the groups antics before looking up at Theodore.
“That’s fine, I have to go study anyways.” You said smiling up at him. You missed the flash of disappointment in his eyes.
“Good job again with the match,” You smiled softly up at him before turning to his friends who abruptly stopped their antics, “It was nice meeting you guys, great match.” You smiled as you gave a small wave before turning around to trek up to the castle again. The boys shouted their various goodbyes at you making you turn around to smile and wave again at them. It was like something had shifted between you and Theodore after the quidditch match. Theodore became friendlier with you, he would even make you walk with him and his friends to the classes you shared. Sometimes if you had time after your tutoring sessions, you would join the Slytherin table for dinner, you now had a permanent spot among the group in between Lorenzo and Theodore, across from Mattheo. You found yourself growing fond of the others too, you would bicker with Mattheo like you were siblings, tease Theodore with Blaise and gossip with Lorenzo.
You became happier, more alive as you befriended the boys. You still spent most of your free time in the library studying, but you found yourself joining them for meals more often than not. You still had problems with sleep, sometimes feeling like you haven’t slept for weeks. Days would blur and before you knew it, it was mid-December, and the grounds were covered by a thick blanket of snow. You were sitting in the library under a thick sweater to keep you warm as you waited for Theodore to show up for your session. You had propped up the Standard Book of Spells, grade 5, on your pencase as you refreshed your memory on Descendo. You felt yourself lay your head in your arms on the table. Last night had been a particularly rough night where you had been sleeping so restlessly that you felt more tired after you woke up than you did the night before. You were just going to close your eyes until Theodore came.
“Bella, wake up.” A soft voice said, though it sounded as it came through cotton.
“Please, bella, it’s time for dinner.” The voice said again, slightly less muffled this time. The voice was wrong though, it couldn’t be time for dinner now, Theodore hadn’t shown up for his session yet. You felt a warm hand on your back, shaking you gently. You slowly opened your eyes and saw none other than Theodore. You were confused at first, not knowing where you were and what time it was before it dawned on you. You were in the library; Theodore was sitting beside you saying it was time for dinner. You shot up.
“I’m so sorry Theodore!” You burst out, the feelings of guilt and anxiety washed over you like a bucket of cold water. He gave you a soft smile. It was one of those smiles you rarely got to see, but it made your day better every time you did see it.
“Shhh, it’s okay, bella, you were so tired, you needed the rest.” He said lowly making you frown slightly.
“It isn’t okay, Theodore, we were supposed to work on Descendo today.” You said, panic still evident in your voice.
“Y/n!” He cut off your spiralling, “I’ve practiced, look,” he did the charm perfectly on your pencase, “I might’ve looked at your book to see what you were reading up on. Oh! And I might have looked at your notes too.” He said sheepishly. Your face turned into an impressed expression as you looked at the boy beside you.
“Wow, Theo, you did really good.” You praised him, making him grin at you.
“Thanks.” He said softly before he started to gather his things. When he noticed that you still sat there, the tiredness washing over you in another wave, he closed your book and started to gather your things as well. You looked at him with curiosity in your tired eyes.
“Come on, bella, let’s get you dinner and then to bed.” He muttered softly as he closed your bag shut and hitched it on his shoulder before reaching out an inviting hand to you.
“I’m fine Theodore, you don’t have to take care of me.” You mumbled, the guilt making a reappearance in your chest. He smiled slightly as he grabbed your arm and, rather roughly, pulled you out of your seat, making you face him. His hand slowly travelled down from your upper arm and grasped onto your wrist, engulfing the upper part of your hand in the process. His action made your heart flutter and your breath hitch in your throat. He was looking at you with puppy dog eyes, the smile still on his face. His free hand found its place on your jaw, gently stroking your cheek.
“If I don’t do it, who will, hm?” He asked softly as his thumb continued to stroke your now hot cheek. You averted your eyes from his blue ones, suddenly finding the table beside you very interesting.
“I really need to study, Theo.” You mumbled as an answer. You felt how his hand moved from your jaw to grip your chin, tilting it upwards, making you look him in the eye again. Your heart was beating so fast now you were sure he could hear it, or at least feel it.
“How about we make a deal,” he said, a small smirk on his face now, “you come to dinner with me now, and if you feel like studying after you can come back.” He shrugged before nodding his head towards the exit. His eyes were pleading with you to go with him and before you could even think it through you felt yourself nod in his grasp. A smile broke out on his face, making you give him a tired smile back. He turned, not letting your wrist go, and started towards the exit of the library. You were still feeling very tired as the two of you strolled to the great hall for dinner. Theodore pushed the great oak doors open, leading you to your now usual place, next to him and Lorenzo. The rest noticed you as you came up to the part at the table where they were sitting. Mattheo let out a low whistle.
“Damn, y/n, you look like shit,” he smirked, making Blaise snort into his goblet of pumpkin juice, “is tutoring Teddy that bad?” You rolled your eyes as you sat down in between Theodore and Lorenzo.
“At least I have a reason for looking like shit, what’s your excuse?” You countered making Blaise snort once again and Lorenzo give you a fist bump under the table. Mattheo held up his hands in surrender, an amused smirk on his face.
“Damn, she is snappy today, what happened, library run out of books for you to read?” He asked teasingly. You felt a small smile twitch on your lips, despite your exhaustion. You heard Theodore chuckle beside you as you felt his warm hand on your back in a comforting manner.
“I’m surprised you knew we had a library, Mattheo.” You said, your lips still twitching from trying not to smile. He broke out in a grin making you mirror it as you put some food on your plate, before putting some on Theodore’s. The boy thanked you quietly making you smile softly up at him.
“Yeah, I found it the other day actually.” Mattheo said, mock pride in his voice making you chuckle.
“Good job! Just you wait until you can read, it will be like a whole new world for you.” You teased him. Mattheo was anything but stupid, he was talented in most subjects, he could easily be one of the best students in the school if he put in the effort. But it was an inside joke your group had that he was stupid, mostly due to some of the stupid things he says, he had a habit of speaking before thinking, but that definitely didn’t make him stupid. The group chuckled making you smile once more as you slowly ate your dinner.
“But seriously, why do you look like you just woke up?” Blaise asked, you could see a hint of concern in his eyes making you give him an apologetic smile.
“Because she just did.” Theodore said before you could even think of replying. You turned to Theodore to send him a pointed look, but he was looking at his friends. “I found her asleep in the library.” He added.
“And you scold me for sleeping in class, this is just as bad!” Blaise pointed an accusing finger at you making you roll your eyes in a joking manner.
“Oh, shut up Blaise.” You laughed, tiredness still clear in your voice.
“Are you okay, though?” Lorenzo asked you cautiously. You gave him an apologetic smile, feeling guilty for worrying your newfound friends.
“I am, I’m just having sleep troubles, I have been for a while.” You admitted. It surprised you how easily you admitted that to them, but they made you feel safe in a weird way. You looked around at the group and you saw various looks of sympathy in their eyes.
“Guys, please don’t worry, it’s been like this for as long as I can remember.” You tried to make the problem smaller than it was, but it had the exact opposite effect. You felt Theodore’s hand come up to your back once again, rubbing it in a comforting manner.
“Maybe you need to see Madam Pomfrey?” Mattheo suggested, now serious.
“I mean it has been better now for a while; it was just last night that was bad, I don’t think I need to see her…” You trailed off. You felt Theodore’s hand move around to your waist, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze.
“I’ll come with you if you want me to, bella.” He said softly, making you look at him. You felt warm inside from the concern he was showing you.
“I promise, I’ll go if it gets worse again.” You said after stifling a yawn. You saw how he smiled softly at you before he let his arm rest around your waist, letting you lean into him. You let your head fall to his shoulder. You looked around the group who still looked worried.
“Guys, I’ll be fine,” You said a smile on your face, “what did you guys do today?” You asked, not lifting your head from Theodores shoulder. The others were quiet for a quick moment before they started to recount their day. How they had pulled some pranks and how they accidentally intimidated a first year. You sent them a glare at this information making them apologize quickly before Lorenzo started to recount some gossip that had made its way around the school. You felt your eyelids droop as you listened to Lorenzo explain something about someone setting off a dungbomb in Filch’s office. The others, who would never admit that they enjoyed gossiping, were listening intently and they even suggested who it could be. Your mind started to focus less on the conversation and more on the warmth that Theodore was emitting. The way he was stroking your waist was comforting as you breathed in his now familiar scent. You started to just hear isolated words from the boys as you started to slip in and out from consciousness and before you knew it you were out like a light against Theodore’s shoulder.
“Is she asleep?”
“Yeah.” The voices were quiet and muffled as you felt someone grab the back of your knees, to lift you up.
“Man try something else.” You heard someone say as a frustrated sigh was heard from above you.
“Stupid riddle, stupid knocker, stupid Ravenclaw common room.” You heard someone mutter angrily from beside you, still sounding like it came through cotton.
“Finis Coronat Opus.” You heard a voice mutter and then you heard stone slide on stone.
You woke up the next morning, utterly confused but surprisingly well rested. You looked around your unfamiliar surroundings. Your eyes scanned the dark green canopy above you before tracing the same green curtains that hung around the bed you were laying in. You saw a desk with a chair against the wall next to you as well as a dark brown dresser opposite the foot of the fourposter bed that you were laying in. The bed was unbelievably comfortable, the comforter thick and warm against the cold air in the room, the pillows were fluffy. You noticed that you were alone in the bed, but you were wearing a big t-shirt and a pair of green plaid pyjama pants. You shot up in panic. These were not your clothes. Just as panic really started to set a door opened and in walked Theodore in just a towel.
“Morning, bella.” You barley heard him over his almost naked form. Your eyes shamelessly scanned his toned torso as he walked towards you with a smirk plastered on his face, using the other towel around his neck to dry of his hair.
“Did you sleep well?” He asked, a teasing hint in his voice as he sat down on the foot of the bed to look at you. You gulped as you felt the bed dip from his weight. You cleared your throat awkwardly.
“What happened?” You settled on asking first. He let out a chuckle.
“You fell asleep by the table.” He said but chose to continue to explain when he saw your confused look. “Me and Mattheo tried to get you to Ravenclaw tower, but we couldn’t solve the riddle to get in. And I didn’t want to wake you since you were so tired earlier, so we thought of the next best thing, to, uh, bring you here.” He finished as he chuckled again. You brain was trying to piece together this information.
“Did you... did you, um, change my clothes?” You gestured to the clothes you were wearing making Theodore let out an actual laugh. You tossed a pillow on his head at this.
“What’s so funny?” You asked as he continued to chuckle, the pillow now on his lap.
“You don’t remember? You’re quite the sleepwalker.” He mused, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You felt a blush creep up on your cheeks.
“Oh, no, what did I do?” You asked as you hid your face in your hands in embarrassment. You heard how he chuckled again before you felt his warm hands around your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face.
“You were adamant that you couldn’t sleep in your normal clothes once I put you down on my bed, and, well, you started to take your clothes off. Don’t worry!” He said as he saw how your eyes widened in panic, “I tossed you some clothes before I turned around, I didn’t look, I promise. But I’m pretty sure you fell sometime while you were changing but when I turned back around you were out cold on the bed again, completely dressed in the pyjamas.” He finished explaining as you let out a groan in embarrassment. He was probably right though; you felt sore on your hip.
“I’m so sorry Teddy.” The nickname just slipped out as you apologised for your antics. You saw how he tensed for a moment before a smile spread on his lips, his hands squeezed your wrists reassuringly.
“Don’t worry bella, I found it quite funny,” he chuckled before looking at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “and you’re always welcome to share my bed.” He winked before standing up, walking towards his dresser. Your eyes raked over his wide shoulders and muscular back. If you said he wasn’t attractive you would be a liar. You felt the blush come back to your cheeks as he confirmed the thought that had been floating in your mind. You had shared his bed. Oh, you hoped that you didn’t do anything else embarrassing.
“You might want to get dressed, unless you want to be late.” He said as he shrugged on his pants, making the towel fall to the floor. You sprang into action, getting out of bed before getting dressed in the outfit you wore yesterday. You thanked your past self for always keeping a spare pair of underwear in your schoolbag, in case you got your period unexpectedly. As you looked at your school shirt, makeup stains on the collar, you wondered for a second if it was too much to ask to borrow one of his shirts. You turned around to face him as he tied his Slytherin tie.
“Teddy?” You said softly making his eyes snap to yours. He smiled at you as you stood there, your school skirt on along with his t-shirt. His eyes drifted to your shirt in your hands.
“Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the stains on the shirt.
“Here.” He said, smile still on his face as he handed you one of his school shirts. You smiled gratefully before turning around again, quickly ridding yourself of the t-shirt before slipping on the soft material of the button up shirt. It was quite big on you; you noticed as you buttoned the buttons. You tucked the fabric inside the waistband of your skirt as you surveyed yourself in his mirror by the door. Theodore was sitting on the bed, looking at you. You quickly tied your tie around the collar of the too big shirt before turning around to Theodore.
“Do I look okay?” You asked gesturing to his shirt. He smiled at you from his bed.
“You look perfect, as always, bella.” He said smoothly making you blush. He stood up from his bed, walked over to you, took your hand and led you to the other door of his room, the one he came out of when you had woken up. It was a bathroom. Damn, the Slytherins really had the superior dorms, you thought as Theodore was rummaging through his cabinet before he handed you something. A toothbrush, still in its packaging.
“Here, I thought you might want to brush your teeth.” He shrugged as he grabbed his own toothbrush.
“Thank you.” You said softly as you ripped up the packaging before letting Theodore add toothpaste on it. The scene was painfully domestic as you stood there, looking at each other in the mirror while brushing your teeth. After you were done you quickly splashed your face with water, Theodore, to your surprise, held out a small container with face cream. You smiled at him as you applied a small layer of the cream.
“I didn’t know you cared so much for your skin?” You asked as you walked through the Slytherin common room together. Your eyes wandered around the stonewalls and black leather couches. The common room had large windows that showed the bottom of the black lake. You let your eyes linger on the creatures on the other side of the window as you walked past it with Theodore by your side.
“It’s not all easy being this handsome.” He smirked making you let out a laugh. The two of you walked to breakfast together, his arm found it’s home on your shoulders as you were walking through the corridors littered with students. You noticed that people were looking at the two of you as they were whispering to their friends. Your eyes narrowed at them as you walked past groups and groups of people staring and whispering. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before you turned your head to look up at Theodore.
“Why are people staring at us?” You whispered up to him. He looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowed at your question.
“Hm, I don’t know, maybe because you’re beautiful?” He shrugged, sending you a wink before moving to hold open the large oak doors to the great hall. As you walked in the hall got quiet before everyone broke out into hushed whispers. You looked at Theodore with suspicion.
“That’s not it.” You said, narrowed eyes.
“I’m sorry bella, I have no clue.” He said with a chuckle as he held up his hands in mock surrender. You decided to let it go as you walked together towards your friends. Theodore’s hand on the low of your back.
“Morning, y/n.” Lorenzo said a broad smirk on his face as you sat down next to him, Theodore next to you.
“Morning, boys.” You said smile on your face as you reached for a piece of toast.
“So, did you sleep well?” Mattheo said before coughing, “with Theo.” He added between coughs. You narrowed your eyes at the boy you have come to look at like a brother. The others let out various chuckles at this. Theodore did tell you that Mattheo tried to help him get you back to your common room last night, so you assumed he filled in the others on what had happened.
“Yeah, did you use protection?” Blaise asked with a shrug making both you and Theodore choke on your tea and him his coffee. You looked at Theodore who was trying to hold in his laughter, deciding to turn the tide you turned to Blaise, a smirk on your face.
“At least there’s a reason to ask us that, when was the last time someone asked you that Blaise?” You asked innocently making Lorenzo and Mattheo laugh.
“Oi, y/n, that was foul.” Blaise said with a grin on his face making you laugh before you turned to Mattheo.
“I heard you couldn’t solve the riddle, what was it?” You asked, curious.
“Oh, I barely remember, like something lost in the day, blah blah, comes at night, what is it?” He said, his mouth full of food. You scrunched your nose at him.
“Do you mean They come out at night without being called and are lost in the day without being stolen.” You asked curiously as you looked between Theodore and Mattheo. They both nodded, making you shake your head at them.
“Yeah, that was the one.” Theodore confirmed as he took a bite out of his toast.
“Stars, you idiots. The answer is stars.” You said with a sigh making Lorenzo let out a chuckle.
“Well, how are we supposed to know that?” Mattheo protested making you chuckle and shake your head before sipping your tea.
“Oh, I don’t know, I suppose I expected more from someone with the last name Riddle.” You said pointedly making the others chuckle again. Mattheo sent you playful glare as he sipped his tea. The rest of breakfast went by quickly, so did the rest of the day and before you knew it you found yourself walking around the grounds with Theodore before dinner. Where the others had gone you had no idea. Theodore’s arm had found its way around your shoulders again, holding you close to his side. As you were walking outside in the thick layer of snow towards the green houses a blonde Hufflepuff boy bumped into your shoulder, making you stumble into Theodore’s side.
“Watch where you’re going.” The boy said, rather rudely, making you look at him stunned when you had regained your footing. You recognised him as Zacharias Smith. You frowned at him and just as you were about to tell him off Theodore had grabbed the collar of his cloak. He was snarling as he dragged the shorter Hufflepuff closer to his face. He had a dangerous look on his face while sending the boy an icy glare.
“Che cazzo stai facendo?” Theodore asked angrily.
“O-oi-” Zacharias protested, trying to get lose from Theodores grip.
“I asked you what the fuck you’re doing.” Theodore repeated, interrupting Zacharias protesting, dangerously slow this time. You saw how he gulped nervously. Coming out of your momentarily shock you jumped into action. Curling your fingers around Theodore’s bicep you successfully got his attention away from the Hufflepuff boy.
“Teddy,” You said, your voice soft, “please, I’m sure it was just an accident.” You looked with a pointed look at Zacharias who nodded fervently in agreement.
“Y-yeah, I’m s-sorry y/n.” He sputtered out. Theodore looked at him, the cold, dangerous stare back in his eyes as he reluctantly let go of Zacharias collar. The moment he was lose he scurried away like a frightened deer. Theodore turned back to you, his eyes now back to their puppy dog look that you’ve become familiar with. But this time you weren’t feeling the usual warmth in your stomach when you gazed into them. No, you were feeling the prickling feeling of annoyance bubble up in your stomach instead, along with something else.
“What did you do that for?” You asked, glaring at the boy with fluffy hair. A small frown made its way onto his lips.
“What do you mean, bella?” He asked, a hint of worry in his voice.
“Why did you have to go all ‘cave man’ on Zacharias? He only bumped into me for Merlin’s sake.” You let out in an exasperated tone, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Cave man? Bella, he hurt you and he was rude to you!” Theodore said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Sure, he was rud-”
“No one can treat you like that in front of me.” He interrupted you, his voice low. You felt the icy wind nip at your face as the warm feeling returned to the pit of your stomach.
“I- what? Why?” You stuttered, his admission catching you off guard.
“How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?” He muttered irritably as he took a step closer to you, snow crunching under his feet.
“I’m not stupid.” You scoffed, sending him another glare. He let out a laugh in frustration as he looked to the side before looking back at you. His hand grabbed your chin making you hold your eye contact.
“You are the smartest person I know, and yet you can’t see what’s in front of you.” He said, his face coming closer to yours. Your heart was beating fast as your eyes searched his blue ones. His eyes were raw with emotion as he was staring at your face.
“What?” You asked softly, still lost in his eyes. He let out a huff, eyes quickly darting to the side before they found yours again. His face was so close to yours that you could see the specs of green and grey in his blue irises. The cold air evaporated around you when his soft lips found yours. His hand that was gripping your chin moved to the nape of your neck to bring you closer, his other finding your hip, squeezing it gently. It took you a moment to realise what was happening. Theodore was kissing you. The boy you had been crushing on was kissing you. Before you could even think about reciprocate the kiss he pulled back. Worry was swirling in his beautiful eyes.
“Bella, I-” He started to apologise but your mind caught up with the situation. You interrupted his apology by kissing him, your hands grabbing onto the ends of his knitted Slytherin scarf, effectively dragging him down to your height. It felt like a breath of fresh air to be kissing him. Like you had been closed in a stuffy room for too long and he was the window that was cracked open. You felt how his soft lips stretched into a smile as he kissed you back in a gentle, slow kiss. The wind swirled snowflakes around the two of you as your arms found their way around his neck to get even closer to him. The two of you smiled as you kissed each other in the cold winter air. Only pulling apart by the loud cheering of three other Slytherins you have come to look at as your friends and brothers. You looked at your friends, laughter in your throat before you looked back to Theodore who was smiling down at you, adoration in his eyes.
“Should we get to dinner, amore?” He asked softly but made no move to go over to your friends.
“Amore?” You questioned, butterflied fluttering in your stomach. He nodded as he gently took on of your hands in his before placing a soft kiss on your knuckles.
“Amore mio.” He said making your heart beat considerably faster. He smiled softly at you making you stand on the tip of your toes to place another kiss on his lips. Yet another loud cheer could be heard from up the hill near the castle. You couldn’t contain your smile as you kissed him, only breaking apart because the cheers became too loud. With a laugh you and Theodore joined your friends before heading to dinner. Maybe there was more to life than studying. What neither of you saw was Professor Flitwick that had witnessed the whole ordeal, a fond smile on his face.
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muffinpink02 · 12 hours ago
Text
Sandcastles
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Summary - Mapi and Ingrid have Rudy for the weekend. Rudy learns not everyone is so nice.
WC - 5,954
Warnings - slightly suggestive, homophobic, swearing
“Are you excited, princess?” You smiled as you tied Rudy’s shoelace.
“Sí! When are they coming?” The four year old asked as she stared impatiently at the front door.
“Tieta Ingrid just texted me to tell me they’ve already left. So, they will be here soon.” You reassured her.
Rudy huffed out a deep sigh, a sigh so deep you'd think she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. But to be fair to her, patience wasn't a trait she had mastered as a four year old just yet. Though she wasn’t the worst, she had more patience than her mother.
“Why don’t you go grab your football, you can take it with you.” 
“Yeah! I can play football at the park. Tieta Mapi will like that!”
You watched as the excited curly headed blonde jumped off the wooden bench in your hallway, running past her twin in an excited hurry and into her bedroom. 
“Where are they? They said they would be here for 11.” Alexia asked as she rounded the corner, stopping to put Rudy’s water bottle in her sleep over bag. 
You looked at your watch, it was only 10.37. 
The Putellas and patience was like water and oil. It just didn’t mix.
“Ale, it's not even 10.40 yet. They live a 2 minute walk away and Ingrid has already texted to tell me they've left. Calm your tits.” You chuckled to yourself.
But your chuckle quickly turned into a loud squeal that escaped your mouth as you suddenly felt yourself being lifted into the air, Alexia easily picking you up from behind. All while burying her head into your neck attacking your skin with heated kisses.
“Alexia!” You let out a loud cackle.
“My tits are calm, cariño.” She muttered into your skin.
“Hmm, seems like it.” You laughed as she finally put you down, but never letting you go. Her strong arms wrapped around your body, holding you from behind.
“I’m just a little excited.” She purred into your neck as she eyed you in the hallway mirror. “A weekend of just you and me.”
You melted into her familiar touch, allowing her to bring you closer. You couldn't deny that you were also excited. It had been a while since the two of you had a weekend just to yourselves and my god, you needed it.
Don’t get me wrong you loved being a mum, and so did Alexia. The day you brought that baby home your world had turned upside down in the best way possible. But as mothers you hardly got time to be with each other. If your time wasn't taken up by Rudy it was taken up by training, if it wasn't training it was school, if it wasn't school it was matches, if it wasn't matches it was house hold errands and so on. 
Don’t even get me started on your intimate times, they were becoming few and far between. You were sure cobwebs had started to build.
So, yeah you both needed a little break with each other, and Ingrid and Mapi were always the first in line when it came to having Rudy. 
“And what is it that you’re most excited for, Mrs Putellas?” You raised your eyebrow in question, but it was rhetorical. Just going by the way her hazel eyes stared at you, you knew what she was excited for and so were you. “Is it the time we’re going to get together? Catch up on house chores?” You teased her.
“Hmm.” She hummed, the deep rumble from her throat caused your eyes to flutter. “No, I’m excited to try that new toy-”
But before Alexia could finish that sentence and before your mind started picturing the visuals (the visuals you so desperately wanted to see)  the sound of small feet came running back down the hallway. 
Alexia was right, Ingrid and Mapi needed to get a move on.
“I have my ball.” Rudy beamed as she kicked her Barcelona ball towards you both. 
Alexia kissed your neck, watching you in the mirror. “Hmm, later then?” She said in a hush tone that only you could hear.
“Next 5 minutes, more like.” You corrected her.
“Deal.” She gave you one last kiss on your neck before letting you go, checking Rudy's sleepover bag once more.
Alexia turned her attention to Rudy who was busy playing with her football. She could already see her football classes coming in handy, not to be biased but she was really skilled for her age, but you guess having two Ballondior winners for mothers came in handy.
The older blonde smiled as she watched her daughter attempting keepie uppies. Something she had tried to teach her. 
“You got everything you need, princesà?” 
“Sí.” 
“Good. Now, let's go over the rules.” Alexia’s captain's voice suddenly made an appearance. “What do we not forget to say?”
“Please and thank you.”
“Good. And what do we not do?”
“Erm,..... erm,..... erm.” Rudy got distracted as she kicked at her ball.
“Rudy.” Alexia easily captured the ball with her own foot, flicking it effortlessly into her own hand.
You found yourself staring at your wife. God, she was hot when she was being the ‘strict’ parent. Okay, yeah, you really needed this weekend.
“What do we not do?” She repeated herself, her tone more serious.
“Run off and talk back.”
“Good. Remember to listen to Tieta Ingrid make sure you’re always by her side when you're outside, si?”
“ Sí.” The smaller blonde nodded. 
“And Tieta Mapi, Mama.” You reminded Alexia.
Alexia nodded slowly. “Sí, and Tieta Mapi.” She rolled her eyes. “Just make sure Ingrid always knows where you are.” 
“Alexia, that was one time. We found her in the end and Mapi felt so bad, she didn’t stop saying sorry for about three months.”
The blonde nearly broke her neck as she turned to you, her hazel eyes wide in horror. “Mapi only had to watch her for 2 minutes! And she couldn't even do that!”
You rolled your own eyes but you kind of agreed with Alexia. You loved Mapi but the girl was maybe sometimes a little… forgetful.
Your buzzer for your building door rang out, setting off a very excited four year old.
“They're here! They're here!” The girl jumped up and down, her curls bouncing with her.
Alexia grabbed Rudy’s jean jacket and helped her put it on.
You opened your apartment door to see Ingrid and Mapi walking down the hallway, smiles stretching on both of their faces. 
“Chicken!” The Norwegian called out.
“Chica!” Mapi shouted loudly as she began to run towards the squealing girl.
Rudy was engulfed in a tight loving hug as she also ran towards her aunties. 
“Aye! You’ve got so big! I thought I told you to stop growing?” Mapi said as she put Rudy down. 
“I can’t stop growing!” The blonde giggled loudly, her gappy teeth all on show as Mapi pocked at her stomach. 
“Hello chicken.” Ingrid knelt down to Rudy’s level as she was embraced by the tightest hug a 4 year old could muster.
“Hello girls.” You smiled with your arms open.
All four of you gave your hugs and said your hellos.
“Whats your plans for the weekend then?” Mapi asked, already grinning at whatever PG version of your plans you were going to give.
“House work-”
“Cinema-”
Even Ingrid had to laugh at your unrehearsed replies.
“Ahh, sí, sí, housework.” Mapi sarcastically replied, sending an overly exaggerated wink at the pair of you. “House work sounds fun. I just hope it destresses you, Ale. You’ve been extra tense at training.” Mapi laughed as she elbowed her girlfriend.
You watched as your wife's cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink, her mouth hung open to rebuttal but she was clearly getting flustered. 
“Cinema and house work sounds fun” Ingrid chimed in, saving the pair of you from the embarrassment while also giving Mapi the look. The defender promptly stopped laughing after that.
“Right, give us a cuddle, Rude’s. Be good for your aunties and have the best time.” You opened your arms open for your daughter who happily squeezed you tightly.
“Bye, bebita.” Alexia also received the tight cuddle from her twin. “Have fun.”
You watched the three walk down the hallway, but before shutting the door Mapi called out. “Have fun with the house work.” She cackled just before being dragged by the back of her neck and out the door.
—--------------------
Ingrid and Mapi held Rudy's hands as they swung her in the air. 
“You’re so high, you're nearly in the sky!” Mapi laughed as they swung Rudy one last time before entering the playground.
Rudy’s smile beamed as she looked around the busy and colourful playground. 
“What do you want to play on, chicken?” Ingrid asked as she stroked the little hand in hers.
“The jungle gym!” 
“Fun! I love the jungle gym! Let's go!”
The three came up to the jungle gym, the sound of excited laughter and children playing coming from every angle. 
“Come on then, chica!” Mapi shouted as she attempted to climb inside.
“Baby, I don’t think you can go inside.” Ingrid smiled sympathetically at her girlfriend.
“What? That's not fair I want to go in.” Mapi sukled. 
“You’re too big Tieta.” Rudy laughed as she started to climb the rope to get inside the play area.
“Lets play with Rudy from the outside, okay?” Ingrid smiled as she stroked Mapi’s back.
“Fine.” The fully grown woman grumbled, her head hanging as she followed Ingrid.
“We’re right here Rudy!” Ingrid called out as the four year old began to climb.
“Okay!” 
Rudy was then off on her adventure. She walked across the bouncy and roped bridge that hung high above the floor, while Mapi and Ingrid pretended to be monsters grabbing at her ankles. Laughing in hysterics when Mapi even pulled her shoe off. 
She climbed further inside, coming to a stop at a red wheel that was attached to the climbing frame. Her imagination took over as she began to sail her pirate ship through stormy waters. 
She climbed higher, crawling though a green caved tunnel, her ship abandoned as she was now exploring the tropical forest, running away from lions and tigers, better known as Ingrid and Mapi.
She was in her element, she loved the park, she loved playing pretend and making up her own little stories as she explored her surroundings. As an only child Rudy found it easy to play on her own, having been accustomed to being the only child in her family so far, besides from Mapi. 
But that didn’t mean she wasn’t a people person, having grown up with her lifestyle of having two mothers that were very well known within the sports world she had picked up people skills early. Having to attend football training before she could crawl, or even the odd awards ceremony before she could count to 10. She was a charismatic and kind girl, always looking for a new friend wherever she could.
And she found her next playmate next in line to go adventure down the slide.
“I like your shoes.” Rudy pointed at the blue glittery shoes of the girl in front of her.
A face full of freckles turned around to look at Rudy, then down to her shoes. A small smile crept on her face. 
“My mommy got them for me”
Rudy smiled back, her head nodding up and down approvingly. Her curls bouncing with her.
“I’m 4.” The girl stuck four fingers up, smiling at her own words.
“I’m 4 too!” Rudy’s hazel eyes widened in shock, amazed that someone else could possibly share the same age as her. 
“Do you want to play pirate?” The little girl asked, her big brown eyes reminded her of her auntie Ona. 
“Yeah! We have to make sure the sharks don’t eat us. There's loads below the ship!” 
Rudy clearly was already in character. Maybe she was more suited for the acting career. 
The girl’s eye widened in shock, also quick to get into character. “Quck, we need to get down this slide and we can get to our ship!” 
Rudy nodded with the most serious face, looking just like her mother before a game.
“Okay, let's go!” 
It was Rudy's now best friend's turn to go down the slide, having waited patiently like all the other kids. She grabbed hold of the rails to sit on her bottom until she was suddenly pushed right into Rudy, making them both tumble over.
“Hey!” Rudy shouted as she looked up to see an older and bigger boy pushing in front of everyone else. Clearly never having been taught manners. 
Alexia would have a field day with him.
“Girls, can’t play on the slide.” He declared.
Rudy couldn't believe her ears, that's not what her mummy and mama told her! “Yes they can!” Rudy shouted back, a small bit of anger rising in her voice.
The boy stuck out his tongue before sliding down the plastic slide. 
“Are you okay?” Rudy asked her friend who now had watery eyes. 
She nodded sadly. “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah. Don’t listen to him. He's wrong, girls can do anything we want.” 
That brought a smile to her friend's freckled face. Both girls got back up, dramatically dusting off the dirt that sat on their clothes, finally taking their turn down the slide.
Ingrid and Mapi had sat on a bench nearby, the Norwegian looked over at the jungle gym where she saw Rudy emerge from the slide. 
“Rudy, come have some water.” She called out.
The little girl ran over with her best friend in tow.
“Hello, what's your name?” Ingrid smiled at the little stranger.
“Dotty.” She replied shyly. 
“My name’s Rudy.” Rudy explained as she took the water bottle from Mapi. “Gràcies.”
Both women shared a smile at each other. It was funny how as a child you could seemingly be friends and not even know the other's name. Though, I guess you could say it was the same when you were drunk in a night club toilet, making life long friends with strangers you would never see again. 
“A boy pushed us over.”
Mapi was up in a shot. “What? Where? Who? Show me him.” The defender scanned the play ground, ready to fight a child.
“Oh no! That's not nice, are you okay?.” Ingrid frowned as she pulled Mapi back down to sit on the bench.
“And he said girls can’t go down slides.” Dotty chimed in, giving even more drama to the story.
“Oh really? Maybe I should talk to him. Show him exactly what girls can do.” The defender jumped up once more, only to be pulled back down by Ingrid.
“I think you both should stay away from him. He doesn't sound very nice.” Ingrid tried to reason with girls, nodding at her own words. 
Both girls mirrored her movements, thankfully agreeing with the older woman, even if her supposed adult girlfriend beside her didn’t.
“Where do you want to play now?” The doe-eyed girl asked, having already forgotten about the incident.
“Hmm.” Rudy stuck her tongue out in thought. “The sand box.” 
“I love the sand box! Let's go.” Dotty grabbed Rudy's hand in hers, running to their next adventure. Leaving Ingrid to remind Mapi why fighting a child isn't socially acceptable.
“Do you want to build a sandcastle?” 
“Sí.”
The girls got busy building their sandcastle. Happily sharing the toys in the sand box and even helping the other when stuck with a tricky part of the structure.
“Is that your mama?” Dotty pointed over at Ingrid who was watching Rudy while also having her ear chewed off by her girlfriend yapping about the grass.
“No. She’s my Tieta Ingrid and she's my Tieta Mapi.” You smiled, waving back at Ingrid who noticed Rudy pointing.
“She looks like a princesà.” Dotty said as she stuck a leaf into the wonky but sturdy sandcastle. 
“Sí.” She agreed as she got back to work. “My mummy and mama are at home.”
“You have two mama’s?” Dotty looked up from her bucket.
“Sí.” The curly headed girl nodded, smiling at the thought of her mothers.
“That’s so cool! I wish I had two mama’s! I only have one.” Dotty pouted at the unfairness.
“They’re lesbins. So are my Tieta’s.” Rudy explained, though she wasn't completely sure on what she was explaining, she just knew that’s what her mums were and many other women around her. 
“Wow! I want to be a lesbin.” Dotty sat in thought, not having a clue what she was talking about. 
The girls got stuck further into the castle, actually managing to make a decent sized structure. Rudy almost didn't notice the new arrival in the box as she began to make a mot. 
The little boy had been quietly watching Rudy and Dotty build the castle from afar, slowly inching closer every few minutes, wanting to play but just being that bit too shy to ask. 
Rudy looked up to see the shy boy sitting on the side of the box. His curly hair reminded Rudy of her Tieta Vicky, his tight curls hair sitting beautifully just above his shoulders. 
“Do you want to play?” Rudy asked as she handed him a plastic shovel.
His little face lit up from being asked, he nodded and gently took the plastic from her hand.
“We’re making a river around the castle and then we’re going to put sharks and crocodiles inside so the bad guys can’t get us.” Dotty informed him of their masterplan.
The little boy smiled as he started to dig, loving the idea of all these animals protecting the castle.
“W-we should also put lions around it for more protection and they can have wings so they can fly and look for the baddies."
Rudy and Dotty looked at each other then back at the little boy. Eyes wide with excitement.
“Thats so cool!” 
“That’s the best idea ever!”
The little boy chuckled gently to himself, happy that his idea was clearly liked by his new friends.
All three got into digging the mot, happily playing in their own little bubble, sharing the odd joke only a 4 year old would find funny, and maybe Mapi. The girls had even found out in the midst of chatter that the little boy's name was Leo and low and behold he was also four! Of course Rudy was in utter shock. Another four year old? You just couldn't make this up. But soon to be five. That was very important to know. 
Leo stood up to unzip his jumper, getting hot in the summer sun.
Rudy nearly fell over when she noticed the t-shirt Leo was wearing. He was only sporting the Barcelona kit.
“My mummy and mama play for Barcelona! They were that kit!” Rudy shouted joyfully. 
Leo looked down at his top, pulling the fabric to see what Rudy was so excited about. But being only four and not completely in charge of his wardrobe (because apparently you can’t wear your spiderman costume to school) he wasn't at the age of really dressing himself he wasn't sure what the clothing really meant, he knew it was something to do with football but that was about it.
“Do you play Barcelona?” Like I said, he wasn't up to date with the rules  and regulations of the sport.
“Not yet, but when I’m bigger I will..” Rudy beamed confidently.
“I’ll be Barcelona when I'm bigger too.” Dotty nodded, more than happy to jump on the career wagon.
“Me too!” Leo giggled, excited to be part of something that clearly seemed to be the coolest thing ever. 
Leo began to talk about his upcoming birthday party and had even invited the girls, though he wasn't sure on the date or time or address, but he was certain his mummy would know, and that was enough for the girls. 
It was all going well, all three kids were chatting happily until an uninvited guest appeared.
“Why are you playing with girls? They’re not fun to play with.” The boy sniggered, kicking sand towards the group.
Dotty’s wide eyes looked up at the bigger boy, the very same boy who had meanly pushed her and Rudy over earlier.
Rudy kept quiet, not wanting to give the boy any form of interaction, just like Tieta Ingrid said to do. But Leo hadn't had the pleasure of meeting the bigger boy just yet, so he didn't catch on that this kid was bad vibes and basically unwanted company.
Leo looked at the boy then back at Rudy and Dotty, he couldn't understand the issue, they were his friends and he was having fun with them.
“They’re m-my friends.” Leo’s soft voice was just about audible.
“Well, you should play with us. We’re going to play football. You can be on the Barcelona team.” He pulled roughly at Leo’s shirt, clearly knowing the kit. 
“Can my friends play too?” Leo asked, voice timid.
“No. Girls can’t play football.” The bully scoffed.
No, way was Rudy going to let that slide.
“Yes they can! My mummy and mama play football, they play for Barcelona!” Rudy stood up, her patience was starting to run out with this boy. And we all know the Putellas don’t have much patience.
“You’re so stupid, you can’t have two mums, dumb brain!”
Dotty wasn't having that. “Yes you can! Rudy has two mamas!” She bit back.
“No you don’t and they don’t play football.” The boy’s foot came close to the sand castle.
“Yes they do!” Dotty now stood up on her feet, ready to scrap for her life long best friend of 40 minutes.
“No they don’t! You’re a liar! Girls are stupid and can’t play football! You’re so dumb!” The boy’s face was turning a shade of pink, his anger getting the best of him. 
“No! You’re dumb and you have dumb poo brains!” Rudy shouted loudly.
She knew her mums wouldn't be happy with her language right now, but nobody gets to diss her mums, especially this horrible and very obnoxious little boy.
Dotty began to laugh immediately, throwing her head back like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard anyone say.
I guess at 4 years old it was the ultimate diss to bring to the playground. 
All three kids watched as the older boy’s face went from pink to red like a human chameleon, the embarrassment from Rudy’s words clearly hitting a nerve. 
“No! You don’t even have a brain!” 
But his words fell on deaf ears as Dotty’s laugh got obnoxiously louder.
And then the boy's temper boiled over like a volcano. He began to kick the side of the castle, making it crumble to the ground.
“Stop! Stop it!” Rudy shouted, her little fist balled up at her sides.
The bigger boy only ignored her and completely smashed the once impressive structure to the ground, laughing wickedly as he did it. 
“You’re a bully and nobody wants to play with you!” Rudy shouted as she watched all their hard work being squashed under the foot of a spoilt little boy.
“Shut up!” The boy screamed so loudly the rest of the playground turned to see the commotion. 
The bully then lurched at Rudy pushing her hard into the sand, quickly raising his chubby little fist in the air.
Rudy closed her eyes, her hands coming up to protect her face instinctively.
The boy brought his fist down hard, just in time to be caught by a bigger hand.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” Mapi’s tone was hard.
Rudy felt herself being lifted up into the air. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Ingrid's words calmed her down instantly. 
Rudy only nodded, her hazel eyes were on her auntie Mapi.
“Why do you think you can go around pushing people who are smaller than you? Matter of fact, why do you think you can go around pushing anyone?” 
Rudy had never seen her Tieta Mapi like this before, she instantly felt like it was her fault that she was so angry.
The boy suddenly didn't have anything to say. He looked down at his feet, his lip began to wobble, clearly he had never had a telling off before. Even though Mapi wanted to go off on the boy she didn't want to make him cry or cause a scene. She let out a deep breath. 
“Leave these kids alone. They don’t want to play with you.” She rolled her eyes as she shooed the boy away. 
Ingrid felt Rudy go rigid in her arms. She stroked the girl's loose curls behind her ears and rubbed her back soothingly.
“Do you want to sit with us for a little bit or play with your friends?” Ingrid spoke softly. 
“Sit with you a little bit.” Rudy whispered, a small pout poking from her lip, even Ingrid recognised that pout from the older Putellas.
“Okay.” Ingrid looked over at the two other kids who were still in the sandbox. “Rudys just going to sit with us for a few minutes, she'll be back soon.”
Dotty nodded, she leaned into Leo and whispered. “I think that one’s a princesà.”
“Wow.” The little boy looked over in wonder.
Mapi followed Ingrid to the bench, the four year old watched Mapi from Ingrid's arms, her usual happy self was nowhere to be seen and Rudy felt a weird feeling from it. Her tummy knotted up with worry. She was scared that she had been bad, maybe so bad that she wouldn't be able to stay with her aunties because they didn’t like her anymore.
Ingrid sat down with Rudy in her lap, keeping her close to her chest. “Do you want some water, cariño? Maybe a snack?”
Rudy shook her head, her hazel eyes misting over. Her little brain was going through so many different emotions. Mapi frowned at seeing how quiet the usually chatty four year old was. She worried the interaction had shaken her up more than she realised, but before Mapi had a chance to ask Rudy anything, a woman began to walk over with an angry step. 
“Who do you think you are? Shouting at my son!” The woman raised her voice loudly.
Mapi scoffed. “No one shouted at your son and just so know he was about to hit my god-”
“Oh yeah, that's right. He said it was the one with two mothers. It's disgusting that you homo’s think you can just throw your sexuality anywhere you go, now you bring it to a park full of children. It's filth. And forcing a child into your sick lifestyle? You should be ashamed of yourselves.” The woman spat out, screaming at this point.
Mapi felt her chest tighten, the words didn't hurt her, she was more worried about Rudy and what this meant for her. She took a deep breath, ready to argue.
“You-” 
“Hold Rudy please, sweetie.”
Mapi was cut off as she took Rudy from Ingrid, watching confused as her girlfriend stood up calmly from the bench.
Ingrid smiled all too sweetly before she cleared her throat. “I have had to watch your brat son bully most of the children in this playground. He has pushed, pulled and was even a second away from punching my god daughter in the face, after already pushing her for the second time. This is the first and only time I've seen you bother to step in, and that's only because you don’t like that your child has actually been told off for maybe the first time in his life.”
Mapi and Rudy hugged a little tighter as they watched the normally calm Norwegian continue to tear this woman a new arsehole 
“You think you can come over here and have the nerve to tell us anything about our "lifestyle" when you can’t even control your child? Don’t make me laugh. Why don’t you and your son worry about your own selves? You clearly have no manners and neither does he. So, I suggest you take yourselves away, have a good look in the mirror and maybe find some decorum. Because frankly you should be the one ashamed of yourself.” 
The woman couldn't believe her ears, she looked around the playground at the other parents hoping to get some kind of backup, but nobody came.
Ingrid’s sweet smile stayed on her face as she watched the woman's face turn red in embarrassment, just like her devil child.
“You- you… ergh!” She stammered before grabbing her son's hand and leaving in an embarrassed huff.
Ingrid watched the woman walk off, catching a few thumbs up from the other parents that also shared her thoughts. She let out a sigh before turning around, the anger that had just been at her forefront melted instantly at the sight of Mapi and Rudy clinging on to each other like kola bears.
Mapi stared at her girlfriend in complete shock, but also adoration, she had never seen that kind of side to her before.
“You okay, baby?” Mapi asked Ingrid.
“Yeah. People are just so ignorant.” She shook her head as she stroked Rudy’s hair.
“Are you angry at me?” Rudy's small voice squeaked out.
Both of the women looked at each other then back at the little girl, clearly shocked at the question. 
“No, Rudy! We aren't angry at you!” Mapi hugged the little girl tighter. “We were upset that the little boy pushed you. I didn’t like seeing you getting hurt.” 
Rudy looked up at Mapi’s soft brown eyes, she nodded her head, grateful to understand the anger wasn’t directed at her.
Ingrid sat down next to them. “You could never make us angry, Rudy. We love you so much.” She smiled kindly at the little girl.
“Unless you became a Real Madrid supporter,” Mapi joked as she pocked Rudy’s stomach, making the girl laugh loudly. All her worries completely vanishing.
“That woman was angry.” Rudy declared.
“Well, she said some very mean things and Ingrid just had to remind her that you can’t go around bullying people.” Mapi smiled as she stroked Rudy’s cheek.
“He said girls can't play football, it made me angry because they can! You and my mummies play football!” The little girl frowned, confused why someone would think otherwise.
“Sadly, not everyone thinks like you, sweetie. Some people don’t agree that women should play football. But a lot of people do! You see them at the matches don’t you?” 
Rudy slowly nodded her head, trying to take in the information. Ingrid could see the cogs turning in her head, she didn't want to overwhelm the girl with too much negative information. The blonde girl looked over at her friends that had stuck up for her, they didn’t think that way. It was a surprise to hear people would be so mean. Her four year old brain was still learning so much about the world.
Ingrid followed her eyes.
“Do you want to play with your friends for a little bit then we’ll head back to our place?” Mapi asked as she dusted some sand off of Rudy’s back.
“Sí.” Rudy nodded.
Ingrid smiled as she gave both Rudy and Mapi a kiss on the forehead.
Rudy spent another twenty minutes with her friends before Leo had to say bye. Promising the others that they would see each other when playing for Barcelona in the future. 
“Ready, Rudy?” Ingrid smiled as her and Mapi approached the sand box.
“Sí. Bye Dotty.” 
“Bye Rudy. Bye Rudy’s tietes. I’m going to be a lesbin too, just like you.”
Ingrid and Mapi’s eyes widened in shock. Both of their mouths were gapping like a pair of fish, neither knowing what to reply to the little girl. 
“Did she just say?-”
“Sí. We can leave that with Alexia and y/n.” Mapi whispered next to Ingrid as she waved at the little girl that also reminded them of their teammate.
The three made their way out of the park, Ingrid spotting an ice cream van.
“Shall we get ice cream?”
“Yayy! Ice cream!” Mapi and Rudy shouted in sync. 
They queued up in line in front of the ice cream van, Mapi’s and Ingrid hand protectively and lovingly wrapped in Rudy's own hands.
“What flavour would you like, chicken?” Ingrid already knew the answer but still wanted to ask. Just in case. 
“Strawberry, please.”
“Chocolate for me please.” Mapi beamed as she looked over the menu. “And extra chocolate sauce.”
Once everyone put their orders in and everything was paid for, the three happily walked through the park, eating their ice creams. Ingrid only had to wipe chocolate off of Mapi’s cheek twice and Rudy once. 
The 4 year old softly kicked her ball as she walked just a few steps in front of the couple. 
“So, that was hot.” Mapi smirked. 
“What was?” Ingrid raised an eyebrow in question. 
“The way you told that awful woman off! My cute and sexy girlfriend being all protective. I loved it.” Mapi softly bumped her shoulder into Ingrid. 
The raven haired girl chuckled, becoming a little shy.
“Do you think it’s the hormones?” Mapi asked as she looked back over at Rudy, completely unaware of the conversation. 
“Yeah, I think so. I think even seeing Rudy getting bullied like that was awful. It made me so angry. And that bitch of a woman…” Ingrid paused to make sure Rudy hadn’t heard her. “...She made me so angry.”
Mapi nodded, taking Ingrid’s hand in hers and brought it to her lips, kissing her skin gently. 
“She was awful. I’m glad you told her off. She looked like a deer in headlights.” Mapi laughed thinking of the memory. 
“When do you want to tell Ale and y/n?” 
Ingrid hummed in thought. “Maybe next month? I guess I’ll start to show soon.” Ingrid smiled as she touched her stomach. 
“I can’t wait to tell them!” Mapi’s smile was from ear to ear. 
“Me too. I also can’t wait to tell this little one. She’ll be so excited.” 
The three did a lap round the park, even stopping to play some football. Just as they came to their exit Mapi noticed the bully boy to her right, stuffing his mouth with a cone ful of ice cream. 
“Hey, Rudy, kick your ball over here.” Mapi pointed at her feet.
The girl was more than happy to do just that, unaware what was about to unfold.
The blonde gently kicked the ball at Mapis’ feet. The older woman looked at her target once more before launching the ball perfectly at the ice cream cone, causing the desert to fly right out of the boy's hand and into the muddy floor.
“Ops sorry!” Mapi faked an apology as she retrieved the ball, she couldn’t stop the smile on her face once she heard the boy start to cry loudly behind her. 
She caught up with Ingrid and Rudy. The raven haired girl shook her head, trying her best to hide the smile on her face, but Mapi could see right through it. “Maria.” She chuckled.
“What? I couldn’t let you have all the fun.” The older woman laughed as she picked Rudy up and placed her on her shoulders.
Rudy squealed loudly as Mapi began to run.
“Faster, tieta Mapi! Faster!” 
Ingrid shook her head, smiling as she watched the pair laughing together. 
“You’re going to have the most crazy mama, but you’re going to be so loved.” She whispered as she stroked her stomach.
237 notes · View notes
lila-lou · 1 day ago
Text
✨Little Soldier✨
Summary: Ben’s approach to parenting is all grit and discipline, just like the way his own father raised him. But with a little nudge from you, he starts to see that being a good dad is more than just teaching strength—it’s about showing love too.
-Christmas Special-
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: Language, ANGST, Fluff, (Ben is mistreating your poor son)
Word Count: 9291
A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. ❤️
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It was one of those crisp winter mornings where the air bit at your skin, but the sunlight danced across the snow, making everything shimmer like a dream. The backyard stretched wide, blanketed in white, untouched except for the paths Ben and your son, Logan, had carved into the snow as they trained. Ben stood tall and imposing in the center, the green jacket of his suit open just enough to let the cold sting his chest. He didn’t seem to feel it. Soldier Boy never did.
Logan, just eight years old, was across from him, his small fists raised in a stance that mimicked his father’s. His breath came out in quick, visible bursts, more from effort than the cold. He kept glancing toward his feet, unsure of himself, while Ben paced a tight circle around him.
“Come on, kid”, Ben said, his deep voice cutting through the stillness. “You think anyone’s gonna wait for you to figure it out? Eyes up. Watch your opponent. Always”.
You knelt nearby in the snow, your four-year-old daughter, Lila, bundled up in her puffy coat and mittens, happily building the base of a snowman. Her little hands moved clumsily, her giggles breaking the quiet each time the snow didn’t quite cooperate. You helped her pack the snow tighter, gently guiding her hands and brushing her hair away from her flushed cheeks as you did.
From the corner of your eye, you caught Logan glancing over. Logan’s gaze lingered on you and Lila for just a heartbeat longer than it should have, his eyes filled with something unspoken. He wanted that—building a snowman, laughing, playing without a care in the world. He wanted to feel the warmth of your praise, the way you smiled at Lila when she held up a misshapen clump of snow as if it were a masterpiece. But he couldn’t. Not right now. Not when his dad was watching.
He straightened his stance, forcing the longing down into the pit of his stomach. He was a man, or at least, he was supposed to be. That’s what Dad always said. “You’re not a little kid anymore, Logan. You’ve got to be strong, got to take care of the people you love”. So even though his arms ached and the cold bit at his cheeks, Logan clenched his fists and focused on his father.
Ben noticed the hesitation, his sharp eyes narrowing. “What’s with the looking around, huh? You think your enemies are gonna stop because you’re distracted?”. He stepped forward and lightly tapped Logan on the forehead with two fingers. “This? This is your weapon. If you don’t keep it sharp, you’re dead, kid. Now, eyes on me”.
“Yes, sir”, Logan muttered, his small voice barely audible. He squared his shoulders, his knuckles raw from the cold.
Ben circled him again, his boots crunching against the snow. “Better. Now, hit me like you mean it. Don’t pull your punches just because I’m your old man”.
Logan hesitated for a split second, stealing one more glance at you and Lila. Lila was giggling again, her tiny voice ringing out like a bell as she held up two sticks she’d found for the snowman’s arms. You caught Logan’s glance once more, and your heart clenched. He looked so torn, so much older than his eight years in that moment.
But Logan turned back to his dad, his small frame trembling as he stepped forward and threw another punch. It landed on Ben’s open palm with a dull thud. Ben caught his wrist, holding him in place.
“That all you got?”, Ben asked, his voice calm but challenging.
Logan sighed quietly, his breath visible in the cold air. He hesitated, lowering his gaze to the snow before muttering, “I’ve got my laser eyes, Dad… do I really need to learn how to fight? I could just… laser an enemy”.
Ben froze for a moment, his grip still on Logan’s wrist. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t amusement. It was that half-smile he wore when he was about to make a point, the kind that sent a chill down your spine as much as the cold air did.
“Your laser eyes?”, Ben repeated, letting go of Logan’s wrist. He straightened to his full height, towering over the boy like a general over a recruit. “That’s what you’re gonna rely on? Some flashy power you barely know how to control?”.
Logan’s shoulders sank slightly under the weight of his father’s words, but Ben wasn’t done.
“Let me tell you something, kid”, Ben continued, stepping closer. “You think some bad guy’s gonna just stand there and let you zap him? Powers don’t mean squat if you don’t know how to fight. If you don’t have the guts to stand your ground when things get real. You run outta juice, you get caught off guard, and guess what? You’re toast”.
Logan flinched, his face turning red, though whether from the cold or his father’s words, it was hard to tell. He looked down at his fists, the little tremor in his hands betraying the frustration he was trying to hide.
“But—”, Logan started, only for Ben to cut him off.
“No buts, Logan”. Ben’s voice softened slightly, though the steel remained. “You’re my son. You fight, and you fight smart. Lasers or not, you’ve got to learn how to handle yourself. You’ve got to be ready for the worst. Because trust me, one day, someone’s gonna come at you, and they’re gonna be faster, smarter, and meaner than you ever thought possible”.
Ben crouched down now, meeting Logan’s eyes. His tone shifted, quieter but no less intense. “And when that day comes, you don’t want to be the kid who only knows how to hide behind a fancy power. You want to be the kid who looks them in the eye and says, ‘Come on, give me your best shot’. You hear me?”.
Logan stared at him, his small frame trembling not just from the cold but from the weight of what his father was saying. After a moment, he nodded. “Yes, sir”, he whispered, his voice steadier this time.
Ben clapped a hand on Logan’s shoulder, a rare moment of affection. “Good. Now hit me again. Harder this time”.
You watched from where you knelt with Lila, your heart aching for your son. He was trying so hard, carrying a weight far too heavy for someone so young. But there was a flicker of something in his expression now—determination, maybe, or even pride.
Logan set his jaw, stepping forward again. His small fist swung upward, and this time, the impact against Ben’s hand was louder, sharper. Ben grinned, nodding approvingly.
“That’s my boy”, he said. “Now we’re getting somewhere".
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Lila tugging at your sleeve, her little hands holding a snowball. “Mommy, can we throw this at Daddy?”, she asked, her mischievous grin spreading wide across her face.
You watched for a few more minutes, letting Logan and Ben have their moment. Logan’s punches were getting stronger, his stance more confident. Ben’s rare but genuine nods of approval lit up Logan’s face, even as his small fists grew red and raw from the cold. It was a scene that tugged at your heart—intense, yes, but filled with love in its own complicated way.
But enough was enough. Everyone needed a break, even Soldier Boy.
You silently scooped up a handful of snow, packing it tightly in your gloved hands. Lila watched you with wide, sparkling eyes, her grin spreading as she realized what you were about to do. “Shh”, you whispered, pressing a finger to your lips. She mimicked the gesture, though her giggles threatened to give you away.
Ben’s back was turned as he adjusted Logan’s footing, his deep voice still carrying instructions. He had no idea what was coming. You took careful aim, pulled your arm back, and let the snowball fly.
It hit Ben squarely on the back of the head.
For a split second, the world froze. Logan’s mouth dropped open, his eyes darting to you in shock. Lila’s laughter erupted, high and bright, as she clapped her mittened hands together. Ben straightened slowly, turning to face you with an expression that was equal parts surprise and challenge. A few snowflakes clung to his hair, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the sight.
“Really?”, Ben said, his tone low and dangerous, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. “You think you can take me on, sweetheart?”.
You shrugged innocently, already packing another snowball. “Well, someone had to remind you to have a little fun”.
Ben’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that”.
Before you could react, Ben scooped up a massive handful of snow and hurled it in your direction. You ducked, narrowly avoiding the incoming projectile, and tossed your snowball back, catching him on the shoulder. Logan burst into laughter, his previous tension melting away as he watched the two of you go at it.
“Oh, it’s on now!”, you shouted, grabbing another handful of snow.
“Logan!”, Ben called out, already forming another snowball. “You with me or her?”.
Logan hesitated for half a second before grinning mischievously. “Her!”, he declared, running toward you. Lila squealed with delight, abandoning the snowman to join your side, her tiny hands struggling to form a snowball of her own.
Ben feigned outrage, clutching his chest. “Fucking traitors! All of you!”.
What followed was pure chaos. Snowballs flew in every direction, laughter ringing out across the yard. Ben, true to form, didn’t hold back, though he made sure to go easy on the humans, meaning you. Logan and Lila worked together, pelting him relentlessly, while you managed to land a few well-aimed shots of your own.
By the time the battle ended, all of you were breathless and rosy-cheeked, the tension from earlier completely forgotten. Ben stood in the middle of the yard, dusting snow off his jacket, while Logan and Lila collapsed into the snow, giggling uncontrollably.
You started walking toward Ben, a triumphant smile on your face as you prepared to rub in the fact that you and the kids had clearly won the impromptu snowball fight. But before you could get too close, Ben’s grin shifted into something sly and mischievous—a look you recognized all too well.
“Don’t even think about it”, you warned, holding up your hands.
He didn’t say a word. Instead, with one quick, fluid motion Ben effortlessly pushed you backward into the towering pile of snow that had been stacked from the snow fort construction. You landed with a muffled thud in the cold, soft powder, your breath leaving you in a surprised gasp.
“Ben!”, you yelled, sitting up and brushing snow out of your hair, your cheeks flushing from the chill and the sheer audacity of the man. He stood over you, grinning like a smug teenager, his hands on his hips as he surveyed his handiwork.
“Never let your guard down. I thought I taught you better than that”, he drawled, shrugging one shoulder.
You narrowed your eyes, a mixture of irritation and amusement bubbling to the surface. “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that, Soldier Boy”.
“Big talk for someone sitting in a snowbank”, he teased, holding out a hand as if to help you up.
For a moment, you considered taking his offer. But then you saw the smirk on his face and knew better. Instead, you grabbed another handful of snow and flung it straight at his chest, catching him off guard. He stumbled back slightly, laughing as he brushed the snow off.
“That’s it”, Ben said, stepping forward with mock menace in his stride. “Now you´re done”.
Ben’s grin turned wicked as he shook the snow from his hair and stepped forward. Before you could even think to scramble away, he reached down, his strong hands gripping your waist with ease. “You started this”, he said, his voice low and teasing. “Now you’ve got to pay for it”.
“Ben, don’t you dare—”, you started, but the rest of your words were lost in a squeal as he hoisted you up and slung you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You pounded lightly on his back, laughter spilling out of you despite yourself.
“Too late for mercy now”, he said, his tone full of mock authority. “This is what happens when you challenge the champ”.
As you protested, he started toward the house, his boots crunching through the snow. Behind you, Logan and Lila dissolved into giggles, rolling in the snow as they started making snow angels, entirely unbothered by the fact that their parents were still in the middle of their antics.
“Ben, you’re getting me soaked!”, you protested, but your words were muffled by your laughter. Snow clung to your coat, melting quickly in the warmth of the house as he carried you through the door and kicked it shut behind him.
“That’s the least of your worries”, he shot back, his voice full of mischief.
He strode into the living room, his boots leaving a trail of melting snow, and without hesitation, he dropped you onto the couch. The plush cushions sank under your weight, and before you could react, he was hovering over you, bracing himself on his hands on either side of your head.
“See?”, he teased, his face close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath despite the cold water dripping from both of you. “You can’t win against me. I’m unstoppable”.
You glared up at him, though the grin tugging at the corner of your mouth betrayed your true feelings. You reached up and grabbed his jacket, tugging him slightly forward. “You’re soaking the couch, genius”, you said, though the laughter in your voice was impossible to hide.
“So are you”, he shot back, leaning closer, droplets of melted snow falling from his collar and onto your skin.
The two of you were practically nose to nose now, water pooling under both of you.
Ben’s smirk softened into something more heated as his fingers toyed with the edge of your jacket. His voice dropped, rough and low, as he muttered, “You know, I fucking hate winter”.
You raised an eyebrow, still trying to catch your breath from laughing. “Oh yeah? Could’ve fooled me, the way you were having a field day out there”.
His hands slid to the edges of your jacket, slowly pushing it open as he hovered over you. “Nah”, he said, a big smirk on his face again. “I hate all these damn clothes. Hiding this”. His gaze raked over you as his fingers began to undo the buttons of your shirt, his touch confident and deliberate, yet surprisingly gentle. “Hiding your perfect little tits”.
Your breath caught, your cheeks flushing warmer than they already were from the snow. “Ben”, you started, half in protest, though your voice lacked conviction. His boldness always caught you off guard, even after all this time.
“What?”, he said, mock innocence dripping from his words as his hands worked their way lower. His green eyes locked with yours, full of mischief and intent. “You start a fight, sweetheart, you gotta be ready for the consequences”.
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, even as you felt his calloused fingers graze your skin beneath your shirt. “Is this how you settle scores now?”.
Ben leaned closer, his lips brushing against your jawline, his breath warm against your chilled skin. “When it’s with you? Damn right it is”.
Before either of you could go further, the sound of the kids’ muffled giggles echoed through the window. Ben froze, glancing toward the frost-covered glass, then back at you, his grin faltering for just a moment before it returned full force.
“Saved by the brats”, he murmured, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. He leaned back, giving you space to sit up as he ran a hand through his damp hair. “Guess you get a pass this time”.
You laughed, buttoning your shirt back up as you pushed his chest playfully. “You’re impossible”.
Lila, hands pressed to the glass. “Eww, Mommy and Daddy you´re gross!”, she teased, sticking her tongue out dramatically, while Logan laughed and shook his head, clearly trying to act like he wasn’t entertained but failing miserably.
You couldn’t help but laugh at Lila’s exaggerated expression, her hands still pressed against the window as she made a show of grossing herself out. Logan, on the other hand, was doing his best to look serious, though the laughter that bubbled up from his chest betrayed his attempt to remain mature.
“Eww, Mommy and Daddy always kissing!”, Lila mumbled with a playful scrunch of her nose, her voice full of mock disgust. She stuck her tongue out again, clearly enjoying the attention.
Logan, trying his best to be the older, wiser sibling, crossed his arms and shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. “You guys are so embarrassing”, he said, though the way his eyes sparkled showed he didn’t actually mind one bit.
Ben, standing beside you, glanced at you and then back at the kids. His grin softened, and he leaned down toward you, speaking in a voice only you could hear. “They don’t have a clue, do they?”, he said with a quiet chuckle.
You smiled, rolling your eyes playfully at the scene unfolding in front of you. “Not a single one”.
Lila, clearly not done yet, leaned closer to the window, still giving you both the dramatic “eww” face. “You’re gonna make us barf!”, she announced loudly, her face scrunching as though it was all just too much to bear.
Ben couldn’t help but laugh at his daughter’s antics. “What are you two up to, huh?”, he called through the window. “Making fun of your parents? You should be building that snowman”.
Lila, always the instigator, puffed out her chest proudly. “We already did!”, she declared. “But now we’re watching you guys because it’s funny!”.
As Lila stood there, still making faces at you and Ben, Logan saw the perfect opportunity to sneak away. Without warning, he grabbed his younger sister by the hand, pulling her away from the window with a quick tug.
“C’mon, Lila!”, Logan urged, his voice filled with excitement. “Let’s finish the snowman! Dad and Mom are being all gross again!”.
Lila let out a reluctant giggle but quickly followed, her mittens flapping as she tried to keep up with her brother. “Okay, okay, but only if we can give him a crown!”; she shouted, already planning the next addition to their snow creation.
Ben watched them go with a fond smile before his gaze shifted back to you. His grin softened as he stood beside you, his arms crossing in that familiar, relaxed way. “You okay?”, he asked, his voice quieter now, with an undercurrent of concern.
You sighed, keeping your eyes on the kids as they ran back into the snow, their laughter a welcome distraction from the heaviness of the moment. “I think you need to ease up with him, Ben”, you mumbled, your voice soft but steady. “You’re demanding too much from him. He’s just 8”.
Ben didn’t respond right away. His gaze followed Logan and Lila for a moment, his jaw working as though weighing your words. You could see him considering it, but you knew how hard it was for him to let go of the lessons, the expectations he had for Logan. It had been instilled in him—toughness, strength, independence. But Logan was still a child, and there was only so much he could handle before it became too much.
Ben turned to you, his expression slightly guarded but not entirely dismissive. “I’m not asking him to be something he’s not”, he said, his voice calm but firm. “I’m just trying to make sure he doesn’t get soft. The world isn’t gonna treat him like a kid forever”.
You crossed your arms, feeling a knot form in your stomach as you looked at him. “He is a kid, Ben”, you said, your voice rising a little, frustration creeping in. “Let him be one. You can’t push him to grow up this fast. You can’t always expect him to be your mini-me, a smaller version of you. He’s Logan, not Soldier Boy”.
“I’m just trying to prepare him. If he’s not tough enough, the world will eat him alive. You know that as well as I do”.
You shook your head, exhaling slowly, trying to rein in your emotions. “I know, but there’s a balance. You can teach him those things, Ben, but not at the cost of his childhood. He’s just 8”. You softened your tone, meeting his gaze directly. “I just… I just don’t want him to resent you. I don’t want him to think he has to be something he’s not to earn your approval”.
Ben was quiet for a moment, and you could see the internal battle in his eyes. He opened his mouth to respond but hesitated, chewing on the words for a second before letting out a long breath.
Ben’s silence lingered, his jaw tightening as your words sank in. You could see the tension ripple through him, the way his shoulders stiffened and his gaze faltered. You hesitated, carefully choosing your next words, not wanting to push him too far but needing him to understand.
“You should know it best, Ben”, you mumbled softly, almost afraid of how he’d react. Your voice wavered, but you held his gaze. “You know what it’s like to feel like you’re never enough, no matter how hard you try. You’ve told me… how your dad was with you”.
The words hit him like a physical blow, and you saw it immediately. His confident, almost cocky exterior faltered, replaced by a flicker of vulnerability that he rarely let anyone see. His mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, he looked away, his eyes drifting toward the snow-covered yard where Logan and Lila were playing.
“Don’t”, he finally muttered, his voice rough, strained. “Don’t bring him into this”.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Ben”, you said gently, stepping closer and placing a hand on his arm. “I’m just saying… you know how it feels to grow up under that kind of pressure. Always trying to live up to someone else’s expectations, never feeling like you’re enough. You’ve told me you hated it. And I know you never want Logan to feel that way”.
Ben’s jaw tightened, and he exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound filled with frustration—but not at you. At himself. His shoulders sagged slightly, and he finally looked back at you, his green eyes clouded with something between regret and resolve.
“I don’t”, he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want him to feel like that. Ever”.
“Then let him breathe, Ben”, you urged, your voice soft but steady. “He’s just a kid. He needs to know he’s enough as he is. That he doesn’t have to be the toughest or the strongest to make you proud. He just has to be Logan”.
Ben rubbed a hand over his face, his fingers dragging down to rest at his chin. He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders rising and falling as he processed your words. “You think I’m turning into him, don’t you?”, he asked quietly, almost to himself.
You shook your head firmly. “No, I don’t. You’re not your dad, Ben. You’re already so much more than he ever was. But sometimes… sometimes I think you’re carrying his shadow. And it’s time to let it go. For Logan. For you”.
Ben let out a slow exhale, his shoulders relaxing just slightly as your words settled between you. You leaned up and kissed his cheek gently, the warmth of the moment cutting through the tension that had lingered in the air. His eyes softened as he looked down at you, though he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. You could tell he was listening, really listening, and that was enough for now.
“I’m going to get the kids”, you said softly, brushing your hand along his arm before stepping toward the door.
He nodded once, his gaze following you for a moment before shifting back to the snowy yard, where Logan and Lila were laughing together as they finished up their snowman.
“Alright, you two!”, you called, standing in the door, your voice cutting through their laughter. “Time to come inside! Wash your hands, and then we’re going to bake some cookies”.
Lila’s face lit up, and she immediately clapped her mittened hands together. “Cookies!”, she squealed, already abandoning the snowman and running toward you with excitement. “Can we make the ones with the sprinkles?”.
“Of course, sweetheart”, you said, catching her as she barreled into you. “But first, upstairs. Wash up”.
Logan, however, lingered behind, his small figure standing just a few feet from the snowman. His expression shifted slightly, the bright enthusiasm dimming as he avoided your eyes. You could tell something was on his mind.
“Logan”, you called gently, holding the door open as Lila darted inside. “Come on, sweetie. Time to wash up”.
He trudged toward you slowly, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. When he finally reached you, he hesitated once more, his small boots crunching in the snow, but he kept his gaze low, his face unreadable. You crouched down to his level, brushing some of the snow off his coat. You tilted your head slightly, trying to meet his eyes.
“Logan, sweetie”, you said gently, “Do you not want to bake cookies? It’s okay if you don’t feel like it”.
His eyes flicked up to meet yours briefly before darting away again. This time, they landed where Ben still stood, his broad figure shadowed by the light from the living room. Ben had turned slightly, his gaze now fixed on the two of you at the door, his expression unreadable but clearly focused.
Logan shifted uncomfortably, his small hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
Then, he shook his head firmly. “It’s… it’s women’s stuff”, he muttered, his tone wavering. Without waiting for your response, he turned abruptly, his small boots stomping against the hardwood floor as he headed for the stairs.
“Logan”, you called after him gently, but he didn’t stop. You caught a glimpse of his face before he disappeared up the staircase—the tight set of his jaw, the way his lips pressed together like he was fighting something back. And then you saw it: the tears gathering in his eyes.
Your heart sank as you realized what was really going on. Logan usually loved baking cookies, that much you knew. He had always lit up at the chance to mix dough, sprinkle sugar, and get his hands messy in the process. But he wouldn’t admit that in front of Ben, not after what he thought his dad believed about “women’s stuff”. And Logan sure as hell wasn’t going to let Ben see him cry.
You sighed, glancing back at Ben, his expression unreadable. He had been watching the entire exchange, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. For a moment, you thought he might come, might say something, but he stayed frozen in place, his eyes following Logan’s retreat.
Without saying a word, you stepped inside, closing the door softly behind you and heading upstairs. As much as you wanted to comfort Logan, you also knew that Ben needed to face this moment, to see the impact of his words—not just through your eyes, but his own.
You found Logan in his room, curled up on the edge of his bed, his back to the door. His small shoulders trembled slightly, though he tried to keep quiet. It broke your heart to see him like that, trying so hard to hold everything in.
“Logan?”, you said softly, stepping into the room. You sat down on the edge of the bed, careful to give him space. “It’s okay to be upset. You don’t have to hide it from me”.
“I’m not upset”, he muttered, his voice muffled. “I don’t care. I hate baking cookies”.
You reached out gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay if you do care. And it’s okay if you love baking cookies, Logan. That doesn’t make you less of anything”.
He didn’t respond at first, but after a long pause, he whispered, “Dad thinks it does”.
Those words hit you hard, and you had to take a moment to steady yourself. “Your dad doesn’t think that, sweetie. He just… sometimes he says things without thinking. But that doesn’t mean he’s right”.
Logan finally turned to look at you, his tear-streaked face breaking your heart all over again. “He’ll think I’m weak”, he said, his voice trembling. “I don’t want him to think I’m weak”.
You pulled him into a gentle hug, holding him close as his small frame shook against you. “Logan, you’re not weak”, you said firmly. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. And being strong doesn’t mean hiding the things you love. It means being brave enough to be yourself”.
At that moment, you heard footsteps approaching. The door creaked open slightly, and you looked up to see Ben standing in the doorway. He hesitated, his expression soft but conflicted as his eyes landed on Logan. He didn’t say anything right away, but the regret on his face was clear.
“Logan”, Ben finally said, his voice quieter than usual. He stepped into the room, his broad figure filling the small space as he crouched down next to the bed.
Logan’s reaction was immediate and almost frantic. He pulled away from your embrace, turning his back to both you and Ben as he roughly wiped at his face with his small fists. His movements were sharp and deliberate, as though he was trying to erase the evidence of his tears before anyone could say a word.
“I’m fine”, he muttered, his voice tight and trembling. “I wasn’t crying”.
You glanced at Ben, whose face tightened at the sight. You could see the regret and guilt pooling in his eyes, the weight of his own words and lessons crashing down on him as he watched his son fight so hard to suppress his emotions.
Ben cleared his throat, his voice softer than usual. “Logan, you don’t have to do that. It’s okay—”.
“I said I’m fine!”, Logan snapped, spinning around to glare at him. His eyes were red and glassy, but his jaw was set in defiance. “Women cry. That’s what you always say. So I’m not crying”.
Ben froze, visibly taken aback by the raw honesty in Logan’s voice. For a moment, he just stared, his mouth opening slightly as if to respond but no words coming out. It was like he was looking into a mirror of himself, the echoes of his father’s harsh lessons staring back at him in his own son’s tear-streaked face.
You saw the way Ben’s shoulders sagged, his defenses crumbling as Logan’s words hit him harder than any punch ever could. He finally sat down on the floor next to the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, making sure he was on Logan’s level.
Your heart aching as you watched Logan’s small figure tremble with frustration, hurt, and confusion. You couldn’t take it anymore. Turning to Ben, your voice came sharp and firm, cutting through the heavy silence like a blade.
“Fix this, Ben”, you said, your tone leaving no room for argument. Your eyes locked on his, stern and unwavering. “That’s my baby boy, and I will not let him feel like this because of something you’ve said”.
Ben’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He knew you were right, and the weight of the situation was already pressing down on him. You took a deep breath, your own emotions threatening to spill over, and with one last look at both of them, you turned on your heel and left the room. Your own eyes were glassy, tears threatening to fall as you closed the door softly behind you.
In the quiet of the hallway, you leaned against the wall, pressing a hand to your chest as you tried to steady your breathing. Hearing Logan say those words, seeing the pain etched on his small face—it was almost too much to bear. But you trusted Ben to handle it. He had to handle it.
Inside the room, Ben remained seated on the floor, his gaze fixed on Logan, who was still turned away from him. The boy’s small hands clenched into fists at his sides, his head bowed low as he tried to mask the occasional sniffle that escaped him.
“Logan”, Ben started softly, his voice steady but carrying a rare gentleness that was almost foreign. “Can I tell you something? Something about me?”.
Logan didn’t respond, but Ben noticed the slight twitch of his shoulders, the way his posture stiffened just enough to show he was listening. Ben took that as his cue to continue.
“When I was your age”, Ben began, leaning forward slightly, “My dad used to say the same things to me. He’d tell me that crying made me weak. That showing how I felt was… wrong. And I believed him. I thought if I ever let myself cry, or feel scared, or be anything other than ‘tough’, I was a failure”.
Logan shifted slightly but still didn’t turn around. Ben kept going, his voice growing heavier with emotion.
“And you know what? For a long time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t let myself feel anything, really. I just kept it all inside, like I was supposed to. But it didn’t make me stronger, Logan. It made me angry. It made me feel alone. Like I had to handle everything by myself, and no one else could ever understand”.
Finally, Logan turned, his tear-streaked face filled with a mix of confusion and curiosity. “You?”, he asked, his voice cracking. “You felt like that?”.
Ben nodded, his eyes meeting Logan’s with an honesty that he rarely let anyone see. “Yeah, kid. I did. And it wasn’t until I met your mom—until I had you and Lila—that I realized how wrong my dad was. Being tough doesn’t mean keeping everything inside. It doesn’t mean pretending you don’t care or don’t hurt. Being tough means letting yourself feel all of it and still finding the strength to keep going”.
Logan sniffled, his fists unclenching as he wiped at his eyes again. “But you said—”.
Ben let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair, his frustration with himself evident. “I know what I said”, he repeated, his voice carrying that gruff edge that always came with vulnerability. “And yeah, I messed up. I say a lot of dumb shit, Logan. Your mom would probably tell you I’ve got a talent for it”.
That earned a small, almost involuntary laugh from Logan, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he wiped his nose on his sleeve. Ben’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, the faintest hint of relief flickering in his eyes.
“But here’s the thing”, Ben continued, his voice softening again as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I don’t want you to grow up thinking you’ve got to be me. Hell, I don’t even like half the crap I’ve done. You’re better than that. Better than me”.
Logan stared at him, his tear-streaked face a mix of surprise and confusion. “But you’re… you’re, like, the strongest guy ever. You’re not scared of anything”.
Ben chuckled, the sound low and rough as he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not scared of anything, huh?”. He smirked, shaking his head. “Kid, I’m scared as shit of your mom”.
Logan blinked, caught off guard by the sudden confession. “What? Mom?”.
“Yeah, your mom”, Ben said, his tone a mix of humor and honesty. “You think I’m out there facing down bad guys like it’s no big deal? That’s nothing compared to when she gives me the look”. He mimicked an exaggerated version of your stern glare, crossing his arms and tapping his foot, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Logan giggled, the tension melting further as he watched his dad pretend to shrink under an invisible scolding. “Really?”.
“Oh yeah”, Ben said, nodding seriously. “One time I forgot to take the trash out. She didn’t even yell—she just stood there, arms crossed, staring me down like I’d committed a fucking war crime”. He mock-shuddered. “I’d rather face supervillains".
Logan laughed harder this time, wiping his face again, though the tears were gone now, replaced by a small, genuine smile.
Ben leaned closer, his expression softening. “Look, kid, being scared isn’t a bad thing. It just means you care about something—or someone. Like how I’m scared of messing up with you and your sister. And yeah, I’m scared of your mom sometimes, but only because she’s got this way of making me want to be better, even when I screw up”.
Logan tilted his head, considering his dad’s words. “So… it’s okay to be scared?”.
Ben nodded firmly. “Scared, nervous, happy, mad—it’s all part of being human. What matters is what you do with it. And right now?”. He gave Logan a lopsided grin. “We’re gonna take those feelings, roll up our sleeves, and bake the best cookies this house has ever seen. You in?”.
Logan hesitated for a second before nodding, his smile growing. “I’m in”.
Ben stood, holding out a hand to help Logan up. “Good. But fair warning—your mom’s probably waiting outside that door to see if I fixed this. And if she’s still mad at me, I might need you to tell her I did a good job. Deal?”.
Logan laughed, taking his dad’s hand and standing up. “Deal”.
When the door opened, you were standing there in the hallway, arms crossed but a soft smile on your face. Ben gave you a sheepish grin, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, boss. Mission accomplished”.
You shook your head, stepping aside to let them pass. “For now”, you said teasingly, though the gratitude in your eyes said everything you didn’t.
As the three of you headed downstairs, Logan walked between you and Ben, his small hand brushing against yours.
An hour later, the kitchen was alive with laughter and the sweet smell of freshly baked cookies. Logan and Lila sat at the table, surrounded by bowls of frosting and sprinkles, each focused on decorating their creations. Logan was surprisingly precise, carefully piping designs onto a gingerbread man, while Lila was happily dumping an entire handful of rainbow sprinkles onto one cookie, creating a chaotic masterpiece.
You leaned against Ben, his warmth a steady comfort as you watched the kids. His arm slid lazily around your shoulders, and he let out a soft sigh, one that carried a mixture of exhaustion and relief.
“You did good today, Soldier Boy”, you murmured, grinning up at him. Standing on your tiptoes, you reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, your lips brushing the faint stubble there.
Ben smirked, a small chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Yeah, well”, he started, clearly about to respond with one of his usual witty comebacks, when—
“Ewww!”, Lila groaned dramatically from the table, dragging out the word as she scrunched her nose and waved her hands like she was fending off a swarm of bees. “Mommy and Daddy are being gross again!”.
Logan snickered, not looking up from his cookie but clearly amused by his sister’s reaction. “Told you they do that all the time”, he said with a teasing grin. “It’s so embarrassing”.
Ben raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you with an exaggerated look of mock offense. “Didn’t realize we were raising such critics”, he said, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.
Ben shook his head, smirking as he turned toward the kids. “Alright, listen up, you two. You keep calling us gross, and I’m eating all these cookies myself. No sprinkles, no frosting, just plain cookies. How’s that for embarrassing?”.
“Daddy, nooo!”, Lila shrieked, clutching one of her sprinkle-covered cookies protectively to her chest. “You can’t! These are mine!”.
Ben’s smirk deepened as he took a deliberate step toward the table, his eyes locked on one of Lila’s chaotic sprinkle-covered cookies. “Oh, really?”, he drawled, his tone teasing and slow. “You think you can stop me, little miss sprinkle queen?”.
Lila gasped dramatically. “Daddy, no!”, she squealed, scooting back in her chair and holding up a hand to block him. “You can’t take this one! It’s perfect!”.
“Perfect, huh?”, Ben quirked an eyebrow, inching closer, his large frame towering over the table. “Let me see. Gotta make sure it’s up to regulation”.
“It’s mine!”, Lila shouted, jumping out of her chair and running around to the other side of the table, her plate wobbling in her hands. “Go eat Logan’s cookies instead!”.
“Hey!”, Logan said, finally looking up from his carefully decorated gingerbread man. “Don’t drag me into this! My cookies are art”.
Ben burst out laughing, glancing over at Logan with mock offense. “Art, huh? Let me be the judge of that”. He reached out as if to grab one of Logan’s cookies, but Logan quickly pulled his plate away, holding it up high.
“Back off, Dad!”, Logan said with a grin, using his other hand to block him. “These are for Mom!”.
Ben stopped, placing his hands on his hips, his grin turning into a smirk. “Oh, for Mom, huh? Well, in that case…”. He lunged toward Lila, pretending to swipe for her plate.
Lila let out a delighted shriek, ducking under the table and crawling to the other side. “You’ll never catch me!”, she declared, her giggles filling the kitchen.
You leaned against the counter, watching the chaos unfold with an amused smile. “Ben”, you said, crossing your arms and giving him a mock stern look, “if you don’t leave their cookies alone, you’re not getting any of… mine”.
Ben froze mid-step, his hand still outstretched toward Lila’s plate, as your words hung in the air. Slowly, he turned his head toward you, one eyebrow raised, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, is that right?”, he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Not getting any of… yours, huh?”.
You tilted your head, meeting his gaze with a sly smile. “That’s exactly what I said”, you replied, the double meaning clear in your tone.
Before Ben could respond with one of his usual cheeky comebacks, Logan groaned loudly from his seat, his hands slapping the table. “I know you guys aren’t talking about cookies”, he muttered, rolling his eyes dramatically. “And for the record, I don’t want another baby sister, okay? One is enough”.
Ben blinked, taken completely off guard by Logan’s blunt statement. He let out a bark of laughter, leaning against the table for support as he pointed at Logan. “Kid, what the hell—where did that even come from?”.
“Logan!”, you gasped, though you couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up in your chest. “What are you talking about?”.
Logan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as if he’d just solved a great mystery. “You guys are always giving each other those looks, and Dad’s always making those weird jokes”. He waved his hand in Ben’s direction. “It’s not rocket science”.
Ben, still chuckling, wiped a hand over his face as he shook his head. “The kid’s too smart for his own good”, he muttered, grinning at you. “He’s onto us”.
“Logan”, you said, trying to suppress your laughter and keep a straight face, “You are way too young to be worrying about this kind of thing”.
Logan kept his arms crossed, his gaze shifting between you and Ben as his face took on that serious, almost grown-up expression he liked to wear when he was deep in thought. “I’m just saying”, he said slowly, his voice losing some of its teasing edge, “you don’t need another kid. We’re good like this”,
You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes slightly. There was something unspoken in his words, a flicker of uncertainty behind the bravado. He wasn’t just teasing—this was something else. But you knew better than to press him here, not in front of Ben, not when Logan was so guarded.
“Of course we’re good like this”, you said gently, leaning forward and resting your arms on the table. “But would another sibling be that bad?”.
Logan shrugged, his lips pressing together in that tight, nervous way he had when he didn’t want to say what he was really thinking. “I don’t know”m he mumbled, his eyes dropping to his cookie. “I just think… things are fine the way they are”.
Ben, still standing beside you, raised an eyebrow. He glanced down at you, clearly noticing the shift in Logan’s tone, but didn’t push either. Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned casually against the counter.
Logan’s words struck a chord, and you could see the layers of concern in his small face—concerns he didn’t know how to voice yet. You gave Logan a warm smile, reaching over to ruffle his hair gently.
“You’re right, buddy”, you said softly. “Things are perfect just the way they are”.
Logan relaxed slightly at your reassurance, nodding as he returned his attention to his cookie. Ben gave you a questioning look, his eyebrow raised as if he were silently asking, What’s that about? You shook your head slightly, a silent later passing between you.
Because there was something you hadn’t told him yet—something that had been tugging at the back of your mind. You were late. Only a few days, but still. You were never late.
You hadn’t said anything to Ben yet because you weren’t ready to make it real, not until you were sure. But as Logan’s words played over in your head, you felt a swirl of emotions: uncertainty, anticipation, and a hint of fear.
Ben’s voice broke into your thoughts. “Alright, Logan”, he said, his tone light but laced with curiosity. “You better not be hogging all the good cookies over there. I need to taste-test those”.
Logan rolled his eyes, his small smirk returning as he pushed one of his neatly decorated cookies toward his dad. “Here, take one. But don’t mess up my frosting”.
Ben grinned, plucking the cookie off the plate with exaggerated care. “Wouldn’t dream of it, champ”.
When the kitchen filled with laughter again, you let yourself lean into the moment, deciding to hold off on the conversation for now.
As the evening wore on, the warmth of the kitchen turned into the quiet hum of nighttime. Lila had curled up on the couch under a blanket, clutching a small stuffed animal in one hand and a half-eaten cookie in the other. Her eyelids had grown heavy, and eventually, she’d surrendered to sleep, her soft snores filling the cozy space.
Ben glanced over from where he was tidying up the counter, his face softening as he took in the sight of his little girl. “Looks like the Sprinkle Queen’s out for the count”, he said, his voice low.
You smiled, drying your hands on a towel. “She had a big day. All those sprinkles wore her out”.
Ben crossed the room, scooping Lila into his arms with the ease of someone who’d done it a thousand times before. She stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent, but settled quickly against his chest, her tiny hand clutching at his shirt.
“I’ll take her up”, he said, his voice quiet but firm, as though it wasn’t up for discussion. You nodded, watching as he carried her out of the room, the sight of his broad figure cradling her so gently always tugging at your heart.
Logan appeared in the doorway then, his steps hesitant as he glanced between you and the direction his dad had gone. He crossed his arms over his chest, standing a little taller as if to remind you—and himself—that he didn’t need the same kind of care his little sister did.
“I don’t need anyone to bring me to bed”, Logan said, his voice firm but lacking the usual bite of defiance. “I can do it myself”.
You gave him a small smile, stepping closer. “I know you can, sweetheart”, you said softly. “You’ve been doing great. But you let me help when Dad’s not here. Maybe you can let him help tonight?”.
Logan hesitated, his eyes darting to the floor before looking back up at you. “Dad’s never… he doesn’t usually…”. He trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought.
You crouched down, resting a hand gently on his shoulder. “Sometimes he doesn’t know how to ask”, you said gently. “But he’d love to, Logan. If you’re okay with it”.
Logan frowned, his small brows furrowing as he thought it over. Then he gave a small, almost reluctant nod. “Okay”, he mumbled, glancing toward the stairs. “But only if he doesn’t make a big deal about it”.
You smiled, brushing a hand through his hair. “Deal”.
By the time Ben returned, Logan was waiting at the foot of the stairs, his arms still crossed but his posture less tense.
Ben appeared at the top of the stairs, his heavy steps softening as he noticed Logan standing there, arms crossed in that telltale way that meant he was trying to appear tougher than he felt. Ben paused for a moment, taking in the sight of his son waiting for him, and his face softened in a way that only you seemed to notice.
“Looks like someone’s still up”, Ben said, his tone light but without the teasing edge he sometimes used. He walked down the last few steps, his movements slower, less hurried, as though giving Logan time to decide what he wanted.
Logan glanced at you briefly, then back at his dad. “I’m ready for bed”, he said, his voice neutral, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
Ben nodded, his hands settling on his hips as he studied his son for a moment. “Alright”, he said, his tone casual. “Let’s get you tucked in, then”.
Logan didn’t move at first, glancing at the floor like he was waiting for Ben to say more. When nothing else came, he gave a small nod and started up the stairs, his pace slower than usual. Ben followed closely behind, casting a quick glance at you as he passed. You gave him an encouraging smile, silently urging him to let this moment be what Logan needed.
When they reached Logan’s room, Ben paused in the doorway, watching as Logan climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up to his chest. Logan fidgeted with the edge of the fabric, his small hands gripping it tightly.
Ben stood in the doorway for a moment, watching as Logan burrowed into his bed, the blanket clutched tightly to his chest. He let out a quiet sigh, stepping forward and crouching down beside the bed, his movements uncharacteristically gentle.
“You all set, champ?”, Ben asked, his voice low and steady.
Logan nodded, but his hands still fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the kind that Ben hadn’t seen in a while. Without thinking too much about it, Ben reached out and grabbed the blanket, pulling it up snugly around Logan’s shoulders.
“Gotta make sure you’re tucked in properly”, Ben said, his tone shifting to something lighter, almost teasing. “Don’t want you freezing in the middle of the night”.
Logan giggled softly, his small voice breaking the quiet of the room. “Dad, I’m not gonna freeze”.
“Oh, you think so?”, Ben said, raising an eyebrow as he tugged the blanket even tighter around Logan, practically swaddling him. “What if a snowstorm hits? What if you wake up and there’s frost on your nose? Gotta be prepared”.
Logan laughed harder now, his small hands pushing at the blanket as he squirmed. “Dad! Stop, it’s too tight!”.
“Nope”, Ben said with mock seriousness, sitting back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect. You’re like a little burrito now. Nothing’s getting to you”.
“Dad!”, Logan squealed, his laughter breaking through the last of his earlier hesitation. He wiggled under the tightly tucked blanket, his face lighting up with a joy that reminded Ben of when he was younger, back before Ben had decided he was too big for things like this.
Ben grinned, leaning forward and ruffling Logan’s hair. “There we go”, he said softly. “That’s better. Haven’t heard you laugh like that in a while”.
Logan’s giggles faded into a warm smile, his eyes meeting his dad’s with a rare openness. “Thanks, Dad”.
Ben’s expression softened, and he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair off Logan’s forehead. “Anytime, kiddo. You know that”.
He stood slowly and glanced toward the door before he turned back to Logan, his voice low and serious now.
“Alright, get some sleep. Sweet dreams, champ”.
“Goodnight, Dad”, Logan murmured, his voice already heavy with sleep.
Ben hesitated for a moment, then leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Logan’s head, something he hadn’t done in years. Logan didn’t pull away, instead letting his eyes flutter closed as he sank deeper into his blankets.
———————————
A/N: Not that much of Christmas, but it’s snowy and cold. So let’s just count it, lol. Please let me know what you think.🥰
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megamindsecretlair · 3 days ago
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Hiii girl! Can I make a request for a prequel to I swear I’ll never leave? Something super angsty on how y/n and Terry got to that point in the first place🤍
I Still Don't Want You To Go
Pairing: Toxic Baby Daddy!Terry Richmond x Singer!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. ANGST, cursing, teasing, mentions of loneliness, depression, brief mention of harm against a child, bad ass child, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, my mom is distracting me.
Summary: A prequel to “I Swear I’ll Never Leave”. Four months ago, things came to a head for you, the loneliness getting too loud for you to ignore. You wanted your husband home, safe and sound with you. As you reminisce about the good times, it’s the bad times you can’t get over. And though your timing sucks, you have to finally tell Terry what’s really on your heart.
Word Count: 7,801k
AO3 Link | I Swear I'll Never Leave
A/N: WHEW. When I say this hurt MEEE. I'm exposing myself like a MF LOL. I see you sneaky anon, a prequel request. I'd love to know your thoughts on the angst, I wanna get better at it. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
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Six years ago…
“Lovely Day” by Bill Withers crooned from your portable speaker on the marble countertop. The smell of meatloaf and mashed potatoes filled the kitchen, steam rising from the pot on the stove. You were working on the gravy, tasting as you went. Cadence kicked in your belly and you stopped to place a hand there. 
“Alright babygirl, we almost there. You are so impatient already,” you said to her, rubbing your belly. You had a few months left to go but she was already kicking to get out. You’d have to put her in track or soccer or something. She’d run you ragged if you weren’t careful.
“How’s my two favorite girls?” Terry entered the room, following the scent of food. 
You giggled. “You always know when the food is done!” You shrieked with laughter as Terry encircled your waist, pulling you back against his chest. He placed his hands on either side of your protruding belly. 
“Can’t help it when I smell a snack,” he said, kissing your cheek.
You sighed at his corny joke but giggled anyway. “You get on my nerves,” you said with a shake of your head. This man of yours. 
“I love you too. Time to eat?” He asked. 
You craned your neck to look over your shoulder at him. He grinned, catching your eye, and then kissed your cheek once more. “You can’t be that hungry,” you said. 
“For your famous meatloaf? Hell yeah, I’m that hungry,” he said. He swayed with you to the music and you closed your eyes, taking it all in. 
“Didn’t you just eat like…?”
“That was my pre-dinner food. This is dinner. I got room,” he said. 
You shook your head. Thank goodness you weren’t having a boy. You didn’t know what the hell you would do if you had two of them running around, eating you out of house and home. You were barely keeping up with Terry and his voracious appetite when he was home. 
“You can’t possibly eat like this on base,” you said.
“I can pack away some food. But hmm, ain’t nothing better than being home,” he said.
“I worry about you. Help me with the meatloaf please,” you said.
“I need a kiss first,” he said. 
You sighed and craned your neck to kiss his cheek. He shook his head, releasing you long enough to turn you around. 
“A real kiss,” he said, suddenly turning serious. He furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned down, capturing your lips with his. 
It felt like he was trying to tell you something with the kiss, but you weren’t sure what. He held onto you, gripping your waist as if you were the lone anchor and he had been out at sea for weeks. 
You leaned back and looked at him. “Terry? Everything okay?” 
&&&
Four months ago…
“Everything okay?” Terry asked. 
“Huh?” You turned your attention back to him. Cadence fidgeted in your lap. You sighed and righted her once more so that she could look at the screen at her daddy. He was on base and you were talking to him on video chat, trying to make it a nightly thing for Cadence’s sake, but it was getting tougher.
She had sunk into her terrible six’s, getting impatient the minute she didn’t get her way. You blamed Terry of course. Spoiling the damn child and making it seem like you were the bad parent, always saying no and doing nothing fun. 
“I’m just tired, Terry,” you sighed. You smiled, despite it all, but even that was getting exhausting. You were cranky, irritable, and at your wit’s fucking end. 
Terry’s eyebrows furrowed but he took you at your word. Cadence flopped in your arm like she was over the whole thing. You corrected her again, holding down her arms and legs so she’d sit still. 
She began to whine, paying attention to anything but her daddy. “When are you coming home?” Cadence asked, suddenly switching gears and leaning far into the camera. 
“I’m not sure yet, baby. But I hope it’s soon,” he said. 
“Will you be here for Mustard’s birthday?” She asked. Mustard, being her imaginary friend. She babbled endlessly to the mysterious Mustard who was usually to blame when Cadence acted out. 
“I don’t know if I can, baby,” he said.
Cadence groaned, flopping into your arms once more. Ugh. You finally picked her up and set her down. She began to cry, trying to climb back onto you. “Aht aht, you’re acting out because your Daddy isn’t here. And you know better,” you said. 
Cadence cried harder, fighting to get back in your lap. You looked at Terry. “I’ll call you back,” you said. You slammed the laptop shut without even hearing his reply. You were tired and fucking over it. 
Cadence turned her cries into a full blown temper tantrum, stomping her feet and jumping up and down. You stared at the little devil and for a split second, just a split, you pictured tossing her ass out through the window. Fuck. That was an evil thought.
“Cadence. You have three seconds to stop and use your words. Acting like a damn barn animal,” you said, sucking your teeth. 
Cadence continued to cry and stomp, falling onto the floor and screaming at the top of her lungs. You stared at her. At your wild, beautiful, terror of a daughter. You couldn’t scream. Screaming would only feed into whatever this fucking phase was. Screaming would turn you into your own mother, who forced you into a box when you were younger. Only to be seen and never heard.
You didn’t have the greatest relationship with your mother. You wanted a mom and she raised you to be the mother she never had. She thought you were the best of friends when you just wanted to escape. Be free from her constant judgement and disappointment.
You stared at your child as she screamed bloody murder and you didn’t know what to do. Terry didn’t have much family that you could turn to. There was Mike, but Mike was young. Mike didn’t need the responsibility of looking after his niece like that. He should be out and enjoying being young and free. There was your best friend Gianna, but she had her own life to live.
Cadence’s wails were like nails on chalkboard, making your brain itch in places you couldn’t reach. Great, heaving sobs trapped in your chest and you held it in. Held in the anger. Held in the frustration. You were a bad fucking mother and you didn’t know how to fix this. The only one who could was a few states away, off on base doing who knew what. 
You stared. You hurt. You stared. She cried. 
Cadence flopped on the floor, crocodile tears streaming down her face. “Cadence, off the floor. Now,” you said as calmly, voice ready to wobble but you kept on a brave face. 
Cadence ignored you, flipped onto her stomach, and then kicked at the floor in her footie pajamas. You stared. And stared. You felt absolutely drained. Like there was nothing left inside of you to keep going. Keep moving. Keep doing this shit day in and day out. 
But she was yours. You would not abandon her. She may grow up to hate your guts, never speak to you again like you barely did with your own mother, but dammit, you weren’t going to yell and scream at a child who didn’t truly understand the world yet.
You left Cadence on the ground to scream and yell while you went to your room to collect laundry. Let her fucking yell and scream. Maybe it’d tire her little behind out. 
You grabbed the laundry basket from your room, picking up wayward clothes that needed to be washed. The famous chair was overfilled with clothes and Terry’s robe. An ache formed behind your eye, growing worse the more Cadence screamed. Cadence jogged into the room, rubbing the back of her eyes with her hand. 
She continued to cry and scream and you turned to her. She looked at you and sat on the ground, snot running down her face. “Are you ready to use your words?” You asked.
She shook her head. “Then you sit there until you are,” you said. You scooted past her to her room to collect her dirty clothes. She followed you, continuing to cry her eyes out. 
“So now you don’t listen to Mommy?” You asked. 
Her cries turned to sniffling and hiccuping. She finally caught on that you weren’t going to feed into her nonsense. “No,” she hiccuped. 
“No? You don’t listen to Mommy?” You asked. 
“I do listen!” She yelled. 
You tilted your head and gave her The Look. She rubbed her eyes with her hand and then walked closer, putting her head on your leg. “Where’s Daddy?” She asked. 
“Daddy’s at work. You know that,” you said. You placed the basket on her pink princess bed and then dropped down to her level. You grabbed one of her hands and helped wipe her face. 
“I didn’t raise you to act out. You have a voice and you have to learn to use it,” you said, tears threatening to spill down your face. How could you make her see how important it was to use her words? To use what so many people took for granted? 
She was still too young to understand the nuances of being Black and a little girl. Your mother silenced your voice when you were younger. Placing the burden of being alive on you and not on her for not swallowing you instead of giving birth. You didn’t want that for Cadence. Didn’t want her to grow up, mincing her words, swallowing it all down, chest caving in whenever there was confrontation.
You wanted her to be strong. Full of life. Everything you weren’t. You blinked away the hot, itchy tears and smiled at her. 
“I miss Daddy,” she said. “I don’t want to see him on the ‘puter.” 
You sighed. You figured as much. But there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. He had a good job providing for you and Cadence. Maybe it would’ve been easier if he was a deadbeat. It would be easier to ignore the growing ache in your heart, missing him at home with you and Cadence. 
“I miss Daddy too. But you can’t throw a tantrum whenever you don’t get your way. That’s not how young ladies act. And your Daddy would be very hurt to know you’re acting up,” you said. 
“I’m sorry, Mommy,” she said. She hugged you and you hugged her back. God, you needed this shit to end. This constant need to cry or yell or scream yourself. You weren’t a child anymore. You didn’t have the luxury of flopping on the floor whenever you were overwhelmed. 
“Thank you, baby. Go wash your face and get ready for bed,” you said. You released her and then popped her on the butt to get a move on. She giggled, jogging out of the room and headed to the bathroom. 
“With soap!” You called out. Cadence giggled like that thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. You shook your head and continued grabbing her dirty clothes off the floor. You seriously had to teach that little girl to pick up after herself better. It was like once Terry was out of the house, she lost all pieces of her marbles.
You could relate. You distracted yourself with picking up her toys, crayons, and coloring books off of the floor and back into its proper places. You grabbed the laundry basket and left her room.
“Daddy says he may not make your birthday, Mustard. But that’s okay! We’ll take sooooooooo many pictures for him!” Cadence chattered on and on to her little friend. 
You shouldn’t be…worried, right? Your daughter had friends but she only saw them at school. The other parents constantly asked you about playdates but you had so much to do between your own work, the house, and getting Cadence together, that you didn’t have it in you to take her for playdates.
You didn’t trust her with anyone else and you didn’t have time to sit and hang out with the mommies while they all gushed about their husbands. Gahh. The whole thing made you sick. They always managed to feel sorry for you. But always thanked your husband for his service.
Whatever. Fuck the service. Fuck the government. Fuck America and its bullshit. You wanted your husband at home. You wanted to crawl into bed and have him wrap his arms around you. If you knew that you’d be this damn lonely in marriage, you would have saved yourself the hassle. 
You loved Cadence with everything in you. But it was never in your plans to raise her with no help. And it wasn’t fair on Terry. He was doing what he needed to do. But…you were tired of feeling like the bad guy when all you wanted was someone to hold you at night. 
You finished up gathering today’s laundry and placed it in the laundry room. You tucked Cadence and Mustard into her bed, sitting down to read her a story while she drifted off to sleep. 
You had a pounding headache from all her screaming and the unshed tears. But you sat for a while longer and prayed over your baby. Prayed she never ended up like you. Prayed she knew nothing but joy and love and how to reach out to people. 
You were half alone, with one friend, and no family to help you. It was you, Terry, Gianna, Mike, and Cadence against the world. What a fucking family you all made. 
You stood up and left the room and turned off the light. You left her door cracked and then made your way through the house, turning off lights, and running through a mental checklist of everything you had left to do tomorrow. 
Making it to your room, you closed the door and flopped onto your cold, lifeless bed with a heavy sigh. You pulled the nearest pillow towards you and snuggled into it. Fuck. And you had to wake up and do it all over again. 
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 
Tears immediately welled in your eyes like it had just been waiting for you to be alone. You let the tears fall. Let your face get hot and puffy as you curled into a ball and cried. Your sniffling was muffled by the pillow.
You let it all out. The frustration from not being good enough for Cadence. The guilt over your disgusting thoughts about harming her. The loneliness from not having your husband there, beside you. Call you a weak ass bitch or whatever, but you just wanted your man home. 
You cried over stupid shit, like spilling your coffee at work. Washing everything in the laundry but finding that one random sock that managed to miss the load. Watching Cadence play with Mustard and seeing Terry written all over her face. You curled into yourself harder and cried and cried, letting every last bit of it out. 
You didn’t have enough strength when it was all over to clean your own face. So you flipped the pillow to a clean side and promptly went to sleep.
&&&
Six years ago…
You paced the length of the hallway in the hospital, trying to breathe through the pain. For all of Cadence’s kicks and tumbling, she sure as shit didn’t want to come out now. Your mother walked with you up and down the hallway, trying to tell you how to birth a child. 
You held back whatever you wanted to say and rubbed your lower back. Fuuuuuck, this shit was painful. You were never doing this again. Fuck this. How did people have multiple kids? How did they birth a basketball team like it was nothing?
It felt like your insides were being scooped out with a rusty spoon. You stopped and leaned on the wall nearest you. “It’s gon’ be okay. Your body knows what to do,” your mom said.
You wanted to tell her to fuck off. So what if your body knew what to do? You didn’t. This was your first child and it was looking to be your only child. You couldn’t do this shit no more. And you sure as shit didn’t want to do it without Terry there. 
Going through the last few months without him was bullshit. No one there to rub your feet or run errands when you were craving something stupid like ice cream and gummy worms. No one there to hold your hand when your panic over being a bad mom got too loud, too close to home, and you were spiraling. 
But…you did it. You got through it. You could continue on. “Terry really ought to be here for this. I can’t believe he’s gonna miss the birth of his own child,” your mom complained.
“It’s not like he has a choice, mom,” you said, careful to watch your tone. Your mom never missed an opportunity to remind you that she was older and could still pop you in the mouth for being disrespectful. 
“Don’t they have leave or something?” Your mom continued. 
Can’t you fucking leave? You wanted to scream at her. You’d rather do this shit alone if all she was going to do was remind you that your husband would not be there. Would not be there to hear your child’s first cries. 
You had planned and gushed over your baby together. You had theories on top of theories of who she’d favor more, what kind of personality she would develop, and what kind of life she would lead. He should be here. 
Tears pricked your eyes but you beat them back. You had a job to do and it involved seeing this baby safely delivered. “I’m tired, mom,” you said.
“I know, baby. One more lap and then we’ll go sit for a minute,” she said. She grabbed your hand and your eyes ached from trying to hold back the tears. Sometimes your mom showed a bit of affection and like a kicked dog, you soaked it up. You reveled in the simple gesture, knowing that at any moment, her claws would come back out.
Squeaking tile made you turn your head. Terry leaned forward, the inertia from running making him rock on his heels. You locked eyes with him. 
“Terry!” You yelled. 
Terry power walked down the hallway dressed in his fatigues. He was clean shaven since he was on base and he looked so damn scrumptious you wanted to gobble him up then and there. He smiled as he approached, carefully taking your hand out of your mother’s.
“I knew you’d find a way to make it,” your mom said, patting Terry on the shoulder. “Otherwise I’d have talked shit.”
“Mom!” You said.
Terry chuckled. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Terry said. He grinned as he cupped your face. “How you feeling?” 
“Better, now that you’re here,” you said. 
Terry kissed your forehead and then grabbed your hand. With him by your side, it wasn’t so bad. You could get through it. You could do this. Still hurt like a motherfucker. Wait…You wailed as you held your stomach, feeling a contraction come on and ruin everything. 
You gripped Terry’s hand with all the strength you could muster as you rode out the pain. You huffed and puffed as you calmed down from the intensity. You turned a side eye to Terry. “You’re never doing this to me again,” you said, your voice rough from wailing.
Terry had the good sense not to look dumb. He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. “Had fun making her though,” he said with a wink. 
You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Nasty ass. Just like a man to enjoy all the benefits with none of the work,” you said. 
Terry guided you back to your room. He walked slowly with you though his long legs could cover the distance in two seconds. “I wouldn’t say none of the work. I seem to recall you loudly begging –”
“Begging?!” 
“Beggin’ me not to stop,” Terry said.
You chuckled and winced as it disrupted whatever the fuck Cadence was doing in your belly. Lord, you needed this child out neow. 
Terry stayed with you every step of the way. He held your hand when you needed it and got lost when you cursed him ten ways from Sunday. He was there to make sure the doctors and nurses gave you what you needed, ensuring that your voice was heard and your concerns were met. 
And when little Cadence Richmond came screaming into the world, Terry was right there grinning and laughing and kissing your forehead. “She’s fuckin’ beautiful. She’s so fucking beautiful,” he whispered against your temple. “You did so good, beautiful.” 
&&&
“I can’t do this anymore, G,” you said, picking at the grass in your backyard. 
Cadence jogged around the backyard with Mustard, running back and forth and screaming with laughter. That girl had a set of pipes. But it was a happy scream and you’d take that over anything else.
Your best friend, Gianna, flipped her locs over her shoulder and leaned back on her hands. “Do what?” She asked. 
“Spend my life waiting for a man that don’t wanna come home,” you said. You looked down at the blade of grass and let the melancholy thoughts run wild. You knew your brain was a big, fat, ugly liar but sometimes that motherfucker made sense. 
Terry went into the service to take care of you and Cadence when you were still two kids who didn’t know better. Now that Cadence was six, what was Terry doing? Why continue to stay on base? 
The only logical answer was that he didn’t want to come home. He didn’t want to be here to help you. After years of practically living apart, the weight of your decisions made your head heavy. 
What would’ve happened if you had joined him on base? Once it was proven that he wasn’t going to hop from state to state, or country to country, you could have joined him. But the thought of being a “military wife” tasted like sand in your mouth. You didn’t want to trade in a normal life for whatever the hell that was. You didn’t want Cadence to grow up coddled from the world. 
No one was going to protect her because the world didn’t protect little Black girls. You didn’t want her to grow up with rose-colored glasses, thinking the world began and ended at the base. You wanted her strong but soft. Capable of taking care of herself but not hiding behind a steel wall all the time.
“Girl, you know that man loves you and Cadence. Have you talked to him at all?” Gianna asked. She shielded her eyes from the sun to look at Cadence doing cartwheels. 
“Every time I try to, I get so choked up I can’t speak. And I don’t want him to see how much I’m struggling,” you said. 
“He’s your husband. He’s supposed to see your struggle,” Gianna said. She leaned forward and looked at you. You felt her assessing gaze as if she was trying to see past your words. But there was nothing to see past.
Day by day, it became clearer that you no longer spoke the same language as your husband. He became a stranger before your eyes and you hadn’t noticed. Or had you not cared? You loved him still. You were very much still in love with him. But you weren’t going to hold him back. 
The next time Terry came home, you were going to talk to him. Truly talk. And let him know that you weren’t going to hold him to a marriage he didn’t want to be in. Just thinking it turned your stomach sour. You didn’t want to let him go, didn’t want some other woman to get her claws in him. Didn’t want to “co-parent” with some chicken head with fake boobs. 
You sure as shit didn’t want to see him kissing all over some other woman. Or have him create more children with someone else. But what was the alternative? Spend the rest of your life in a state of limbo. Longingly looking down the quiet street for a car that was never going to pull up? 
The whole thing made you sick to your stomach. You didn’t know what you were going to do. But you knew this was your rock bottom. You couldn’t stand it another second.
“The other day, Cadence showed her entire ass screaming and all I could think was, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t half parent her. Not when he hangs the moon and I’m the monster under her bed,” you said.
“Where is this coming from? Why didn’t you call me?” Gianna took your hand in hers and shifted towards you. 
“I thought I could handle it, is all,” you said and shrugged. Cadence was your child. Why should you pass the buck to someone else just to get a break? A break from your own child. That was your mom’s MO. She had to distract you in order for you to leave her alone. And now you were doing the same thing to your kid. 
You were a mess and you were drowning. You were so far underwater there was no more light above you. And your light was a few states away toiling away at a job he loved more than you. 
“Mommy! Auntie Gigi, loooook!” Cadence said, trying to turn a cartwheel into a flip but only flopped onto her butt. 
“You be careful out there, little girl! But great job!” You said. 
She got up and dusted herself off, nodding to herself. Then she kept practicing, falling over and over. But she kept getting up. You hoped she continued as she got older. 
“You better talk to that man, you know he not gon’ like this,” Gianna said. 
You squeezed her hand. Yeah. Yeah, that was putting it nicely.
&&&
Three years ago…
You sat down on the brown couch with a deep sigh. Terry chuckled and hummed tiredly, reaching his arm down from over the couch to pull you closer. 
“You sound how I feel,” he said. Light from the TV splayed across his handsome face, a mix of colors dancing across his features. It was too dark in the living room to see his storm-blue eyes but you saw enough. 
“That girl, I swear. I don’t know what kinda DNA you got swimming, but that is your child,” you said. You shifted until you were tucked protectively under his arm and against his chest. His heart thumped against your cheek and you closed your eyes briefly. Still your favorite song in the whole world. 
“Nah, anything after seven is your baby. You never go to sleep on time,” he said. 
“Yes, I do. Sometimes,” you said.
“What time you go to bed last night?” He asked. His thumb traced lazy patterns on your shoulder. The sound was muted on the TV but you looked at the picture. He was in the middle of some old movie from the 60s. 
“That is beside the point,” you said, remembering that you didn’t go to bed until 2am. The night just made more sense to you to be awake. Day time was a burden and a half. 
Terry chuckled and shook his head. “I can’t believe we got her down. When is she going to grow out of her terrible fours?” He asked. 
“I don’t know. I thought we were tiring her out. That wasn’t even her final form,” you said and groaned. 
“I have a crazy thought,” he said.
“Mhm, what’s that?” You asked. 
“What if we had another?” He asked.
You leaned away from him to look him in the face. He looked back at you with no change in his expression. He was serious. Like really serious. You leaned up further and faced him. “After today, you want another one?” You asked.
Cadence had been more than a handful lately. Since her Daddy came home, she had run him ragged taking up all his free time. She wanted to play princess or go for a horseback ride. She wanted to run around the backyard with him and push her stuffed teddies on the small swing set he built for her. 
She wanted to lay down with him for her nap and yes, he had to climb under the Bluey blanket with her whether he fit or not. You did snap a thousand pictures and giggled to yourself while you got to some household chores. 
After the nap, he had to watch TV with her. And he had to play dolls while he did so, non-negotiable. Then, for no reason at all, she ripped off her clothes and went streaking through the house. You two nearly gave up trying to chase her around. 
Terry finally managed it and gave her a bath while you finally went to lay down. Goodness knew you needed it. Terry indulged in every little whim of Cadence’s and you told him often that he was doing nothing but spoiling her rotten.
“I know, but I can’t help it. She got me wrapped around her tiny finger. I miss so much,” he had said when you told him.
And now he wanted another? 
“Yeah, before she gets too big. She could use a buddy. Our family is so small,” he said. His smooth voice trailed off, getting lost in thought as he stared at the TV. You wondered if he was even seeing it. Or if he was lost in a thought or a memory. 
You cupped his cheek and caressed it with your thumb. “But are you sure?” You asked. Unlike Terry, you remembered what it was like trying to carry the child alone. You had no choice but to endure and handle it if Terry was gone during this pregnancy too. But sometimes, you got the sinking feeling that he was always looking for a way out and he just didn’t know how to tell you. 
“You and Cadence mean absolutely everything to me. Yes, I’m sure,” he said. He smirked and bumped your shoulder.
“Remember all the fun we had making Cadence?” He pulled you closer and nuzzled your cheek with his nose. You held firm, refusing to give in to his charms. You were not going down that easy. You refused. Absolutely refused. 
“I must’ve turned your little world. You stay bringing that up,” you said, pushing him away.
Terry held firm, moving his nose down to your neck and inhaling. He hummed, low and deep in his chest causing it to rumble. The sound carried up and down your spine, sending electric shocks through your brain. “Been waiting for you to do that shit again,” he said. 
You giggled and leaned away. He followed and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Lemme give you a baby,” he said.
You laughed and shook your head. “You are out of your mind,” you said.
“You know you wanna be swollen with my baby again,” he said. He moved his hand to your shirt and searched beneath it, rubbing his fingers along your skin. You sighed with a moan, shifting your body closer. He was a cheating ass nigga. 
“You get on my nerves,” you said. You feebly pushed at his chest but he was a mountain. Too immoveable. He grinned against your neck and then kissed it, his lingering lips sending pulses of heat straight to your pussy. 
“You just wanna cum all up in this again. Admit it,” you said, giggling.
“I admit it. I confess. I am guilty,” he whispered against your neck. 
You managed to giggle and moan at the same time, your brain in full on mush mode. There was nothing but the feeling of his hands on your tummy. He didn’t venture anywhere else, just ran the rough pads of his fingers against your skin. 
It was more than enough. You pushed into him, needing more but not willing to say it. You couldn’t utter a single sound so you talked with your body. The only language you and Terry spoke well. 
“Use your big girl words,” he said.
“You get on my nerves!” You said.
Terry smiled against your skin. “I love you too,” he said.
&&&
Four months ago…
“DADDDDDYYYYYYYY!” Cadence’s scream was loud enough to wake the dead ten towns over. As soon as Terry stomped into the house, light shining behind him, Cadence was on him like white on rice. 
She launched herself into his arms and he had to kneel or get ran over. He scooped her up into his arms and hugged her tight. “How’s my babygirl?” He asked. He kissed her head and leaned back to look at her face.
His eyes softened as she talked a mile a minute, telling him every thought that came out of her head. Terry fixed her purple flowered shirt while she spoke. He nodded and asked her questions as he set his duffel bag down and closed the door behind him. 
You stood off to the side, feeling like a sack of meat for all the enthusiasm Cadence showed you. You shouldn’t be jealous and well…no one said you had to be rational all of the time. 
You stood rooted to the spot, knowing that whatever came next was going to hurt. It was going to break you. And yet it would shatter you if you didn’t. 
Terry kept throwing glances your way like he knew something was up but couldn’t pinpoint what. He squinted at you and still paid attention to Cadence’s stream of consciousness. 
“And then Mustard said that I was a booger, but that’s not true because boogers are green and I’m not green,” Cadence said.
“You tell Mustard to be nicer to you,” Terry said. He walked over to you and dropped a kiss to your forehead. His large palm cupped the back of your neck and he held his lips to your head. You closed your eyes and breathed in his uniquely manly scent. 
“Welcome home,” you whispered. You leaned back and looked at him. He tilted his head and massaged the back of your neck. Your shoulders drooped as he rubbed, all ounces of tension leaving your body. 
Why couldn’t he make this easier? It was just like your stupid heart to plum forget the past few months he was on base. You never could stand on business. Not with your mom and not with Terry. It was a curse, it truly was.
You and Terry fell into an unspoken truce while Cadence soaked up having her Daddy home. You spent most of the time in the living room, talking, laughing, and telling Terry about everything he missed. Everything you didn’t get to discuss over the computer. 
Terry had to know something was up. He kept reaching out to you but you found ways to dodge or get up to do something. You weren’t trying to be a bitch. But you didn’t want to fall into his arms if he was only going to hate you later.
It’d be easier to stomach his hate and anger if you didn’t have his lingering touch on your skin. So you continued to move and fawn and shake him off anyway you could. 
Cadence had to have Terry read her the bedtime story, not asking for you once. Not throwing a tantrum once. Not even a sniffle. Little booger. 
You made some tea in the kitchen while Terry stayed with Cadence until she truly fell asleep. If she sensed Terry moving a muscle, she’d wake up groggily and ask for him. You waited at the dining table with a steaming mug of tea nestled between your palms but you swore you felt none of the heat.
Terry shuffled into the kitchen and sighed as he sat down in the chair. He looked so ragged. But beautiful as always. Loving Terry was like loving a precious jewel. It hurt to look at but it hurt worse to look away. 
He leaned one arm on the table and leveled you with a stare. “What’s up with you?” He asked. 
You took a deep breath and stared at your mug. “I have to talk to you about something important. And I didn’t want to get in the way of Cadence seeing you,” you said. 
“What’s going on? Just tell me,” he said.
“I don’t want to be a single mother anymore,” you said. You held up your hand as Terry pitched forward, confusion twisting his features. “You’re an amazing father, Terry. But…I want my husband home. And I won’t make you choose between the Corps and me.” 
“That’s not even a choice,” he said. You held up your hand again before he could continue to argue. Yes, it was a choice. He clearly loved what he did. And you knew he loved Cadence. But you were feeling pretty fucking unloved. You knew it wasn’t intentional on his part. You knew that if you just told him what’s up, he’d do everything in his power to make it up to you.
But you were terrified that he’d wake up one day and resent you for making him quit while he was ahead. You wouldn’t survive that. 
“This isn’t something new for me. And I know it feels out of left field, but I think I’ve been feeling like this since we had Cadence. I kept waiting for you to say enough is enough and you’d resign from the service and come home. I kept waiting for you to make that decision but you never did. You kept going and going and going.” 
“I did it for us. So that you and Cadence were taken care of,” he said.
“I know. Baby, I know,” you said. You gripped the mug hard enough to break it. The heat singed your palms but you let it. Your heart thumped too fast, stealing your breath. You vibrated with nervous energy, stomach twisting into painful knots. 
You hated that confrontation made it seem like your insides wanted to crawl out of your skin. You hated the sinking feeling that you were hurting someone even though you were hurting too. You hated that your voice shook and tears threatened to fall. 
“But you’re not here all the time. You don’t see that Cadence can be a fucking nightmare sometimes and it’s just me. I never thought it’d be just me when I had a family. I thought I’d have my husband with me. And I’m tired of feeling like a weak ass bitch for wanting that.
“And I get lonely. And sad. And tired. And I keep thinking that you’re not here. You’re off taking care of us and how can I be mad at you for that? But I am. I can’t stand it. I’m at my fucking limit, Terry, and I can’t keep going back and forth between hoping you came home and thinking it’d be easier if you didn’t.
“I won’t make you choose. Because I love you too fucking much,” you said. The tears came anyway, streaming down your face. Ugh. Now you were crying and he’d think you were manipulating him. It was the last thing you wanted him to think. 
“You love me but you’re trying to leave me? This is fucking insane,” he said. He pushed away from the table and you nodded, looking back down at your mug. It was insane. You were definitely insane. 
He paced the length of the kitchen, hands on his hips as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ unreal.” 
You rubbed your head. “I can’t be stuck in limbo anymore. If I knew where I stood with you, I could move accordingly. But I’m not that strong. I am exhausted fighting my brain and my heart all the time,” you said.
“And what about what I want? What if I don’t want to let you go?” He asked. His voice strained and your heart ached for him. This was so fucking painful, like shards of glass embedded into every beat of your heart. 
“I’m not happy. And I’m not trying to hurt you, it’s not you in particular that made me unhappy. I just am. I’m constantly feeling like a bad mother. I’m constantly feeling like a failed wife. Because why else aren’t you home? Why aren’t you here with me?” You sobbed harder, silently, tears falling in scalding streaks down your face. 
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” He asked. His voice rose and your tears only fell harder. You were just a failure of a person, not able to make your child happy. Your husband happy. Yourself happy. 
“I didn’t want to make you choose,” you said.
“You keep saying that as if I wouldn’t choose you every time!” His voice rose higher, practically yelling at you and you swiped at your face. You hated crying. Pressure built in your face and made everything gross and full of snot. 
Terry lifted fists to his face and knocked his forehead. “I knew something was up with you. I knew it and I just couldn’t name it. This is my fault, I know that,” he said.
“It’s not! You’re a good father,” you said.
“But a terrible husband?” He asked.
“I didn’t say that!” You said. 
Terry paced the kitchen some more, rubbing furiously at his face. If he had his facial hair, he’d probably tug at it. “I thought you wanted me away. I thought…you hated having me here. It seemed like you never wanted to talk over the phone anymore or you barely looked at me on chat. I should’ve known that was my clue to check back in,” he said.
“Will you please stop saying it’s your fault? I’m in this relationship too and I haven’t been the best wife,” you said. You knew that you could have done better. Could have talked more openly. Told hm you were struggling over the years but you didn’t want him to feel guilty while he was at work. He was providing for you after all. And you thought you could be happy with that. But you weren’t. You were a basic simp. You wanted your husband. And you’d rather beg on the street with him than live in luxury without him. 
“How could you say that? You’re an amazing wife. It’s my job to make sure that’s not a doubt in your mind,” he said. 
You groaned. “M-Maybe we just need to cool off,” you said. 
“No, no, we can fix this. Don’t shut me out!” He said.
“I can’t help it!” You yelled.
“Why not?” 
“I don’t know!” You swiped angrily at your tears. “Because I’m broken? Because I’m a horrible person? I don’t know! I don’t know how to be happy. I don’t know how to let things go. I don’t know how to live and let live. My brain is fucking mean and every time we get off the phone, I start worrying that I’m bugging you? Holding you back? Am I selfish for wanting you at the cost of my happiness? Is that self love or destruction? I can’t fucking tell anymore, Terry, and it scares the hell out of me.”
You stood up and turned away from him, looking down at your left hand. You looked at the simple band he got when he first proposed. He promised to replace it as soon as you had two nickels to rub together but you told him not to bother. The band was to deter other men from talking crazy to what belonged to him. You just wanted him.
You never took it off. Never. It was practically glued to your finger. But you turned around and slipped it off. 
Terry stood up and backed away. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he seethed. 
His eyes were a raging storm, swirling with mixed emotions. His shapely eyebrows were curved downward, nostrils flaring. If you waved a red flag, he would surely charge you. 
“I know I’ve been a shit husband. I…used the military as an excuse. That maybe we just worked better apart. But all I’ve been doing is hurting us both. Creating this distance between us. I want nothing more than to come home to you and Cadence. I’m on leave. We can talk this out,” he said.
“All you’re going to do is convince me that things will change. And the next time you go back to work, we’re back to the same shit. What kind of life is that?” 
“I’ll put in my papers tomorrow. I’ll get a local job,” he said. 
“And what will you say when you wake up years from now resenting me?” You asked.
“What the fuck is it going to take for you to believe me?” He asked. 
You sighed. “I don’t know,” you said. You looked down at your feet. What would convince you? You weren’t sure. You didn’t want Terry to jump through hoops to prove that he was still the man you were in love with. 
You lifted your gaze to him just in time to see him swipe at a lone tear halfway down his cheek. He stepped closer and you tensed, waiting for him to explode. To yell or scream or call you out of your name. But your husband would never. 
Instead, he paused just beside you, facing forward. He didn’t move to touch you. Didn’t press for more contact than what you were willing to give at the moment. You felt fragile. Raw. Like you could collapse at any moment. 
“Don’t you ever take that ring off your finger. I’m not done fighting for us. And until you figure out what it will take, I’m not letting you go. I swear to you I’ll never leave you and Cadence. Both of you are my reason for living and if it takes my last breath, we’ll be a family again. I’ll stay at Mike’s for a while, but I’ll be back in the morning to tell Cadence myself,” he said.
He walked out of the kitchen and like the coward you were, you let him. Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut. Because this was true agony. This was a hell of your own making and you still weren’t sure what the fuck was wrong with you.
Maybe you truly were that broken.
The end, end.
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WHEW. I'm sorry, my loves. The Secret Terry Richmond Files
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rafesbabyg1rl · 6 hours ago
Note
You were asking for reqs for rafe x reader, if you are taking them, I have one in mind. In which rafe is extremely possesive of bsf reader, and gets easily jealous. One day she was at a kook party, and a guy approached her and they started to talk and that sh*t went down, rafe got aggressive and almost beat the guy to a pulp. Reader is like a shy cute innocent, bimbo type. And smut after the scene if you write it.
Summary: Innocent!reader X possessive!Rafe, bestfriend!reader X bestfriend!Rafe. Summary is basically the anonymous ask!
Warnings: Rafe is possessive of reader. Established friendship. Rafe almost beats a guy to death. Mentions of drugs (no actual drug use), alcohol consumption. Lots of smut; p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, SLIGHT degradation (some praise too). The classic 'what are we' at the end. The L word.
Word Count: 6.1k
Author Note: Hello Beauties! Thank you for the support and kindness you've all shown me. And thank you for this ask, I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I did your idea justice. Sorry that this is a bit long, it just sort of happened. Also, I hope you all enjoyed the holiday yesterday, well those that celebrate. I'm hoping to finish part four of The Watcher soon so I can get it out, life has just been so exhausting. Anyways, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!! Stay freaky y'all.
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Your best friend, Rafe, had asked you to go to a party with him. Well, more like he had told you to go. Although it’s not like you’d ever miss the opportunity to party with your best friend. So, here you are; walking around the side of Topper’s house, looking for Rafe. You two didn’t come together, he got here before you. He knows you don’t love being around his ‘friends’ and their various illegal substances, even though he says he’s clean, he likes to have time with them before you get there. 
You round a corner, now entering the Thorton’s backyard. You look for Rafe as you work your way through the loud and busy crowd. You hear a friend call your name, you turn your head to her, and she waves you over. You approach her and a few others with a smile. You greet them.
The other girls chat amongst themselves as your friend speaks up, shouting over the music. “Hey!” She’s over enthusiastic per regular, probably a bit drunk too.
“Hey!” You shout back. 
She begins, “Oh my god! I have to tell you something. Guess who I saw—”. Usually, you’d want to hear all the gossip she’s about to ramble to you, but not right now. “Do you know where Rafe is?” You shout over her, cutting her off.
“What?” She asks, stepping closer to you so she can hear you.
“Do you know—” You’re suddenly interrupted by some guy standing beside you. You turn to face him.
“Hey.” He says, his tone confident. A cocky grin spreads across his face.
“Hi.” You smile politely, “Do I know you?”. You say hurriedly before turning back to your friend. She looks between you and the guy a few times before facing you and giving you a knowing smirk. You know what that look means and before you can say anything, she walks away. Leaving you alone with him. You roll your eyes at her playfully, although you really are annoyed that she didn’t tell you where Rafe is. 
Slowly, you turn your head back to the guy, flashing him another fake smile. He grins again before speaking, “No…no you don’t.” He pauses, stepping a bit closer to you so he doesn’t have to shout over the music as loud. “I’m Devin.”
Your fake smile is getting awkward, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about talking to him right now. “Nice to meet you, Devin. B-but I need to–”
Devin cuts you off, “Let me get you a drink.” 
You laugh shyly, “Oh...I-I’m okay, I actually have to…”
“Let me just get you a drink, it’ll only take a second.” He moves closer to rest his hand on your lower back for a slight moment, to get you to turn toward the drinks. 
Rafe was on the back patio sitting on one of the couches when someone had mentioned to him that they saw you. He went to go and find you, which is when he spotted you laughing with some guy, who moments later put his hand on you. Rafe’s already had a few drinks tonight, so his judgment clouded even more than usual, especially when it comes to you. 
As you walk towards the drinks, Devin’s hand falls and he follows close behind you. 
After a moment, you hear a mix of gasps and ‘ooohh’s’ from everyone. You turn to look behind you where everyone seems to be gathering. You find that Devin isn’t behind you anymore.
Immediately your eyes land on some commotion in the crowd, you squeeze through the ring of people forming around the area. Shit. You run forwards, pausing just before the fight. 
Devin is flat on his back, Rafe straddling him. Rafe has Devin’s shirt clenched in one fist, holding his head off the ground as he repeatedly drives his other fist into Devin’s face. 
“Rafe!” You shout. Keeping your distance, not wanting to get too close while he’s out of control. You’ve seen how he can get. In the years that you two have been friends, you’ve had to calm him down from countless fights, since nobody else can ever seem to do it. But, when nobody else steps in to try and stop the fight, you step closer, knowing something has to be done. “Rafe, stop! Stop it!” You scream. 
Devin’s completely unconscious, his nose is probably broken, but you can’t really tell; his face is a swollen mess of blood and bruises. You can’t stand here and watch anymore, and nobody seems to be listening to your cries for help. Because nobody is stupid enough to get in Rafe’s way while he’s like this. You step behind Rafe, putting your hands on his shoulders. You try to pull him back all the while trying not to get punched.
“Rafe! Look at me! Look at me, Ray!” Rafe turns his head to the side, momentarily stopping his actions, letting Devin’s head rest on the floor. You put a hand up to cup his cheek. Speaking quietly now as you plead to him. “Rafe…c’mon, that’s good, h-he’s had enough…”. Your tears slow, but your breath is still erratic as you look at the unconscious man. 
Rafe turns back to the guy, your hand falling from his face. Rafe pulls Devin’s head up, like he was going to punch him again. Instead, he lets go, letting the boy's head hit the floor. Rafe stands up without a word and grabs you by your wrist, tugging you away. 
Before you know it, you’re being shoved into your best friend's truck. His random mumbles don’t make much sense to you, talking about ‘he got what he deserved…Should’ve fuckin’ killed him…yeah, should’ve fucking killed him for that. Touchin’ what’s mine…’
When you get to Tannyhill, Rafe wastes no time pulling you into his room. You sit on his bed stiffly, waiting silently as he paces the room.
“Rafe?” You call out softly. “You okay? What happened back there? What was that?”
“He touched you.” Rafe states. His tone is low and rough, sending a chill down your spine. Even after all the years you’ve been his best friend, you still never know how to act when he’s like this. 
“Barely. He barely touched me.”
Rafe completely disregards what you say, shaking his head and blowing out a jagged breath as he continues to pace across his room, a bit slower now. “Why was he even talking to you? You were supposed to be with me. I told you to go to the party, not him.” 
You take your chance to get a word in as he spews out angry nonsense. “I was looking for you and he started talking, ‘wanted to get me a drink. I was just being nice; I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t even want to talk to him, I was looking for you, Rafe. I don’t even see why that matters–”.
He pauses, looking over at you. His movements are sharp as he strides over to you. “Don’t see why it matters…?” He repeats your words, more for himself than to you. “It matters because you’re mine.” His words are sharp, definitely directed to you that time.
“Rafe…you almost killed him…because of me? I don’t get it Rafe; I don’t nearly kill all the girls you fuck.” You state.
Rafe lets out a breathy chuckle before speaking. “Still don’t get it, huh?” Rafe laughs. “God you’re so innocent. So naive.” He pauses, stepping closer until he’s standing in front of you, looking down at you as you sit on his bed. “I need you, y/n. I can’t…god, I can’t even fuck anyone else anymore without thinking about you. I can’t let anyone else have you, got that? You understand now?” He asks harshly as he runs a rough hand through your hair. 
You try to swallow the lump in your throat. You look up and nod weakly, causing Rafe to flash a devilish grin. “Yeah?” He asks quietly, his voice coming out low. 
“Yeah…” You mumble back brainlessly, too shocked by your best friend's confession. You had always thought Rafe saw you purely as a friend. Although thinking back, you don’t know how you ever thought that with how he acts, especially lately. 
No time is wasted as Rafe quickly leans down, capturing your lips with his. The first kiss is hesitant, and you don’t kiss back. But when he pulls away to look at you, trying to gauge your emotion, you lean in. Your best friend takes that as a sign to continue. His lips quickly find yours again. When he feels you start to kiss back, he escalates things. Kissing you more roughly now, acting as though he’s a starved man and your lips are his meal.
His hand moves from the back of your head to your throat, lightly squeezing. At first you don’t even realize, too distracted by the feeling of his tongue entering your mouth. But when Rafe squeezes your neck even tighter, you move your hands to reach up and wrap around his wrist in an attempt to pull it away. Your mouth still occupied by his, the kiss is too fucking good to break. It feels like everything you didn’t know you needed. He’s giving you what nobody else could, because only he knows exactly what you need and exactly how to give it to you. Your lack of breath reminds you of your situation and you pull away from the kiss momentarily.
Rafe’s grip loosens as he pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Tell me you want this.” He mumbles breathlessly. 
You search his eyes as you catch your breath. Nodding, you finally speak up. “I want this.” You say definitively.
Not even half a second later, Rafe’s body crashes down onto you, pushing you down so that you’re laying on his bed. Rafe has one arm beside your head, holding himself up as his other remains on your neck. He hovers over you, one knee pressed between your thighs. Rafe leans down, his lips attaching to your neck, kissing and sucking frantically at your skin. He’s been waiting so, so long for this. 
His lips find your ear, softly biting at it before whispering. “Let me take care of you, baby. You want that, hm?”. While waiting for your response, his free hand traces down the side of your body until it reaches the hem of your skirt. He moves his face to the other side of your head, giving some attention to your other ear. “Need your best friend to help you feel good…give you what you need, yeah?” His hand slips under your skirt, slowly gliding up your inner thigh, sending shivers through your whole body.
“Yes–” A moan escapes your lips, interrupting you. Your eyes meet his before you continue. “Please Rafey…need you…”
His lips meet yours at the same time his hand meets your clothed cunt. He kisses you sloppily, exploring every part of your mouth with his tongue. Your hands come up to rest on his chest, your touch sending shocks through him. He rubs you through your panties. He can feel as you grow more needy, the wet spot on your panties getting larger. 
He can’t believe this is actually happening. He’s wanted to do this to you for so long; he’s dreamt of this moment happening in almost every way possible, but this…he never could’ve imagined this feeling. “Fuck…you’re so wet f’me already.”
“Ray…please…” You can’t help but rut your panty-clad cunt against his hand, searching for friction. Usually you’re never this bold, but you’re comfortable with him. You always have been, he is your best friend after all. You just pray that he understands what you need. 
Except Rafe doesn’t respond in the way you had hoped for. No, instead he pulls his hand out from under your skirt, eliciting a whine from you. He presses a genuine, wet kiss against your parted lips before moving down your body. Rafe slides down, kneeling onto the floor in front of the bed. He grabs you by the back of your knees and tugs you down towards him until your ass is at the edge of the bed. Without breaking eye contact, he swiftly removes your skirt. He spreads your legs, making them bend so your heels are on the edge of the bed. Eagerly, he presses wet, sloppy kisses up your inner thighs, his eyes trained up on you.
The sight of him like this between your thighs, doing exactly what you need…it drives you crazy. You lean your head back, letting out a moan as Rafe mouths at your entrance through the fabric your panties.
It’s not long before he’s peeling back your panties as well, sliding them off of you completely. Your legs threaten to close from insecurity, but your best friend is sure to hold them open.
“Fuck…this pussy’s even prettier than I imagined, baby. Soaked…just for me.” Rafe leans in, his mouth hovering just above your core. He silently asks for permission.
Being your best friend, Rafe knows that you’ve never done this before. No guy had ever wanted to date you while Rafe’s your best friend, they could see that you’re his, even if you couldn’t. 
His breath is hot on your bare center, he watches as you squirm and clench around nothing. Eagerly you nod, giving him permission. And within seconds his mouth is on you.
At first, he’s slow; gentle as his eyes continue to meet yours. He licks a warm stripe up your center, briefly pulling back to watch your reaction. Your head falls back, your mouth parted, and eyes closed as you experience this new sensation that your best friend is so generously giving you.
Rafe begins to lick and suck at you. His tongue circles your clit as he looks up, knowing you’d like it. A moan slips past your lips as your hand flies to the back of his head, the other gripping onto the sheets beside you. 
“Nnnghh…f-fuck, Ray…” You whine as his tongue fucks you relentlessly. He only mumbles against you in response, sending vibrations through your core. This felt even better than you had ever thought it would. When you heard people talk about sex, you didn’t think it could actually be this good. Though maybe that just has to do with the fact that Rafe’s your best friend, and he knows exactly what you need.
“Yeah?” One of his hands leaves your leg and moves to grope your tits through your clothes. “You like this, huh? You’re just a slut for your best friend, hm? Letting me have you like this…”
“N-need you…” You mutter, grieving the loss of his tongue on you. He stares at you with a devilish glint in his eyes. 
“I know, baby. I know.” Rafe’s mouth continues to work on you. His tongue gathers some slick from your entrance and brings it up to your clit, circling it with his tongue a few times before repeating the process. 
The feeling in your lower stomach is starting to build. It’s getting hard for you to sit still for him. It’s even harder for you to stay quiet. A plethora of moans escape you as Rafe’s mouth stays busy between your thighs. Your hand holds his head down, your other grips the sheets underneath you. 
“Rafe…please. S’too much, I can’t—” You whine. 
“Ah ah ah…stop running, baby. I got you. I got you.” Rafe’s grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you in place. “God,” He mutters breathlessly. “You taste…you taste so fuckin’ good. Hiding this from me all that time, hm?” He leans back down and continues his ministrations on you.
Your toes start to curl, the band in your stomach threatening to snap. Suddenly he stops and before you get the chance to look down to see why, one of his fingers is prodding at your entrance. “Gotta stretch this pretty little pussy out, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”
You nod, allowing one of his thick, long digits to slowly slide into you. You almost scream when he starts to move it, his mouth working on you at the same time. Rafe adds another finger, now thrusting two in and out of you. 
“Fuck baby, you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good. Jus’ gotta get you used to this, hm? You gonna let your best friend be the first to fuck you?” Rafe asks. You nod in response, agreeing to his words. Rafe’s fingers spread apart inside you, stretching your hole, preparing you for his cock. His tongue pauses again as he looks up at you and correct his previous statement. “The only one to fuck you.” Rafe puts his head back between your thighs, his fingers fucking you mercilessly as his tongue sucks at your bud. 
You nod again, followed by a whine. “F-fuck…Ray. I-I think I’m gonna…”
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby? Hm?” 
“Mhmm…yes, fuckk–” You respond, your fingers fighting to grasp onto the little hair he has. Your thighs begin to squeeze around him, causing him to pull his head up against the force of your hand on him. 
“Just a little more, baby. You can take it. I know you can. You gonna let me help you finish? You wanna cum?”
“Yes! Yes! Please Rafey…please let me cum.” Your begging makes him chuckle briefly before going back down on you. His tongue moves with precision, working on you with a purpose; to make you cum. 
Without warning, the band in your stomach snaps. You scream out his name as his tongue circles your sensitive bud and his fingers pump in and out of you slowly. Your best friend continues to work you through your first real orgasm. You’ve never felt anything like this. Why the hell did you wait so long to do this with him?
“God…baby. You’re so fuckin’ perfect. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those pretty sounds.” Rafe carefully slides his fingers out of you, making you clench around nothing at the loss of him. He gets up from his knees, standing over you again. Rafe’s face glistens with your slick. His hand moves up to brush your hair back while he brings his free hand up to your mouth. “Open.” He orders. You oblige and he pushes two digits into your mouth. “Taste that? Taste how fuckin’ good you taste?” He pulls his fingers back, immediately moving down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips. Rafe climbs on top of you, his mouth finding the sweet spot behind your ear. He whispers, “You okay?”
“Mhm…better than okay.” You reassure him. Your legs are still shaking with the aftershock of your orgasm. 
“Good.” He mumbles against your skin. “‘Cause I’m not even close to done with you, baby. We’re just getting started.” He doesn’t wait before he’s pulling off your shirt, kissing down your chest. Soon after, he unclasps your bra with one hand, pulling it off of you and tossing it onto the floor somewhere. 
His lips are vicious, attaching to any and every bit of your skin. His hands gently cup your breasts, his mouth finding and attaching to one of your nipples. His eyes stay trained up on your face, he likes seeing how you react to his touch. He pulls back, straddling your lap. Your hand shoots out to grab the hem of his shirt, trying to tug it upwards. He smirks and quickly does it himself, tossing it aside. He watches you like prey as your eyes skim over his bare chest. 
It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, you have, many times. But no matter how many times you see him like this, you’ll never get used to it. You’ve never seen him in this way though. It’s different, more intimate. You’ve never shared this kind of intimacy with anybody before. And you’re glad you’re doing it with your best friend, whom you’re comfortable with. 
The low light of his bedside lamps reflecting off of his toned skin, damp with sweat. You let out a slow breath as you take in the sight. “Fuck.” You mutter. 
Rafe leans down, kissing and nipping at your earlobe. He whispers, “Like what you see?” He laughs. 
You nod your head eagerly. “Mhmm…”
“Use your words baby, you’re a big girl, aren’t you?” 
“I…y-yes.” You whine as you wriggle underneath him, trying to squeeze your thighs shut in search of some much-needed friction.
Rafe knows what you need. He knows that you’re ready now; ready to give him everything, let him take your innocence, your virtue. He uses one hand to prop himself up as the other works at his belt. Once you realize what he’s doing, you try to help him out, eagerly unbuckling his belt as he kisses you passionately, like he’s never kissed anyone else before you; like you’re the only girl on this fucking planet. 
Once his belt is off, you work at his pants. He leans up so he can tug them off, throwing them aside with the rest of the discarded clothes. All that’s left between the two of you now is the thin fabric of his boxers. You can feel his hardened form pressing into your leg as he kisses you, practically devouring you. Without thinking about it, you find your hand tugging at the waistband of his boxers. You beg. “Please”, your lips whisper into his ear as he bites at your neck. “Rafey…”
He leans back again, this time getting off of you and standing at the side of the bed and in front of you. You can’t help but touch yourself as Rafe frees himself from the constraint of his boxers. You watch as his hard cock springs up, hitting his stomach when it’s finally freed. He smirks, leaning down to remove your hand from yourself. 
“I got you, baby. I got you. I’ll take care of you.” He mumbles, moving his hand over your core again. His strong fingers circle your clit. Your breath hitches as you watch him touch you, his other hand holding the base of his cock.
“Rafe?” You manage to ask through your cries. 
“Hm? What is it?” Rafe says your name softly, encouraging you to continue. 
“Will it hurt?” You’ve heard that the first time can be uncomfortable. And judging by Rafe’s size, this was going to be more than just uncomfortable. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to back out of the situation, you need this. You need him.
Your best friend’s expression becomes more serious as he looks at you. His hand comes up from your core to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “It might, baby. It might be a little uncomfortable for a moment, but I’ll do my best to make it feel good, yeah? I’ll go slow. And if you don’t like it I want you to tell me. You’re okay, baby. It’s just me, your best friend. I’m gonna take care of you. M’kay?” You nod in response, his eyes darting between your eyes to get a sense of what you’re thinking. Rafe clicks his tongue. “Ah, ah. Use your words, pretty girl.” His hand reaches out for your chin, tilting your face up towards him. 
“Please Ray…”
“Please what?”
“Fuck me…” The words sound so vulgar coming from your sweet, innocent mouth. He’s never known you to speak this way, but he’s not against it. He pumps his fist over his cock a few times, his head leaning back as he lets out a groan. “Please Rafe…I-I need you in me…”
Your words snap him out of his amazement. “Atta girl.” He replies. You can feel his tip gently rub against your slippery entrance. Your warm juices on his cock feel better than anything he’s ever experienced. You’re like a drug to him. A drug that he can’t get enough of. 
He pulls back before you can get used to the feeling of him. He leans over you, reaching into his dresser drawer. When he moves back over you, you see the shiny square wrapper in his hand.
You place your hands over his as he tries to open the condom. “No…”
His head snaps up at you. “No…? No what?” He asks, confused. “You don’t want to do this?”
“No…Rafe, I-I want this. I just…I want to feel you. No…no condom.” You explain.
“Fuck, y/n. Are you sure?” Rafe’s disbelief and shock is very apparent in his tone. 
“Yes, I’m sure. I’m on the pill.” You confirm.
“God, how much more perfect can you fuckin’ get?” He chuckles, making you huff out a quick laugh. 
Soon his lips are back on yours as he uses his hand to guide his glistening, pink tip back to your puffy cunt. Slowly, he pushes into you, just so that the very tip of his cock is inside of you. He looks up to your face, pending your reaction. 
“F-fuck…Rafe.” Your hands move to his hips, pushing him further inside. Rafe gives in, pushing another inch into you. “Mnghh, fuck…Rafe.” Rafe settles there for a moment before giving you another inch or two. Each time he moves, he looks to make sure you’re still enjoying it, giving you a minute to adjust each time. When he finally bottoms out, you feel so…full. The pain is there, but it doesn’t last long, fading into a light discomfort as your soft walls mold to his shape. You involuntarily squeeze around him.
“Shiiiitt, baby…Squeezin’ me so tight.” He pauses to kiss you, his lips soon finding that soft spot behind your ear that makes you shiver. “M’gonna move now, alright?”
“Mhm…please…” You whine. You hook your arms under his, bringing your palms up to grip onto his back. Rafe continues to kiss all over your neck and chest as he slowly pulls out of you, until only the tip is left inside. Without warning, he pushes into you a bit quicker this time, with a bit more force than before. But you’re not complaining. You cry his name out, your nails digging into his shoulders. He begins to move at a slow, steady pace as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. “F-fuck…” You yelp, gripping onto him even harder.
“Fuck, baby…your nails, they hurt.” He mumbles amusedly into your ear as he nips at it. Immediately your grip loosens. You feel terrible but can’t manage to muster up an apology since you can’t think clearly with how his cock is repeatedly kissing your cervix with each thrust. 
“Faster.” You beg, pressing your forehead into his arm. He listens cautiously, carefully picking up the face. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. The new position allows him to hit an even deeper spot inside of you. When his digits start to circle your clit you almost let out a scream, making him chuckle. 
“Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?” He laughs as he fucks you senseless.
“Fuck…Rafey, no, I…I can’t. Can’t take it.” You moan, throwing your head back as your eyes squeeze shut. 
“You can and you will.” He speaks emotionlessly, overtaken by pleasure. Rafe’s hand moves from you clit up to your throat again, he applies a bit of pressure. Your hands leave his back and wrap around his wrist. Your eyes stay shut as your face contorts into that of pure bliss. His thumb slides into your mouth and you suck and bite at it, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming feeling of him fucking you. You don’t see how you can ever stop; this feeling is…unlike anything else you’ve felt before. “You got this baby. M’almost there. You can let go, baby. Just let go f’me.”
Sooner than later you feel the newly familiar feeling of pressure building in your lower stomach. When it snaps, your body tenses up, a wave of moans escape your mouth as the band snaps and pleasure washes over you. Rafe continues to fuck you slowly, his movements becoming more sporadic than strategic.
“Fuck, where do you want it?”
“My pussy, please Rafey…fill me up?” You ask, eyes wide with tears as you look up at him. “Please?”
“Shit, you sure?” Rafe groans, barely able to hold on any longer.
“Y-yes...I’m sure.” Only seconds later you can feel his warm seed spurting out inside of you. Your gummy walls soaking him in as they squeeze around him, milking him for all that he’s got.
“Fuckk y/n. Do that again.” As he thrusts into you without any specific rhythm, you obey his words, squeezing tightly around his length again. Rafe lets out a guttural moan, tossing his head back for a moment before looking at you again, watching how well you take him, as if you were made for him. The way he fills you up you is like pieces of a puzzle, just meant for one another. “Shiiitt…you’re so fucking tight. Squeezin’ ‘round your best friends cock so good.”
After you’re both worked through your orgasms, he pulls out of you. You groan at the loss of him, feeling a big opening left where he had been. Rafe leans down to press a deep, meaningful kiss to your lips. He pulls back, wiping your hair and sweat from your face with a proud smile.
“God, baby. You did so good, so fucking good. That’s a good girl. My girl, yeah?” He leans down again, pressing a kiss to your neck. Rafe whispers in your ear. “m’so proud.” Before pulling away completely, he presses a kiss to each of your cheeks, your nose, and one final kiss to your forehead. 
You turn on your side to face him as he lay on the bed beside you. “Rafe…” Your voice shows your exhaustion, but also your hesitancy.
He turns on his side to face you as well, propping his head up against his hand. “Hm?” He says with a smile. He can’t help it, it’s impossible for him to see you and not smile after what you just did. 
You flop back down onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. It’s too hard to say this while looking at his beautiful smile. “That was…” 
“Incredible?” He interrupts, his fingers lightly tracing up and down your arm. 
“What was that?” You blurt out, scared that if you don’t say it now then you never will.
Rafe’s smile fades quickly, he props himself up on his elbows, staring down at you with furrowed brows. “Woah woah, woah. Hey. What? What d’you mean?”
You give a light shrug, his fingers no longer moving over your skin. You avoid looking at his pretty eyes. “I mean like…what happens now?”
He sighs, laying back down next to you, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, you’re my girl now, yeah? I thought that was obvious.” 
“Your girl? The Rafe Cameron I know doesn’t do girlfriends.” You say lightly.
“That’s because I never wanted one. I never…needed one, I’ve got you.”
“So…we’re friends?” You ask, attempting and failing at trying to hide your emotions.
“We are, aren’t we?” Rafe responds, not knowing what his words imply or how they’ll make you feel.
“Yeah…yea we’re friends.” You say dryly. 
He turns his head to face you. “Hey. Y/N. What’s wrong? Hey…hey, talk to me.”
“Nothing, Rafe. I’m fine.”
“Jesus, no you’re not. C‘mon baby, what is it?”
“Nothing!” You snap. You’re angry about your own reaction, feeling stupid once the words leave your mouth. Grabbing the sheets, you cover yourself up.
“Did I do something? What’d I do?” Asks Rafe, making you feel worse about yourself. It’s not his fault you feel like this. “Is it what we did? Look, I’m sorry if—“
You cut him off, not being able to listen to him blame himself. “I just…I don’t think friends do what we just did.”
“Jesus, y/n. Look…” He trails off, cursing himself. “Do you not wanna be my girl or something? ‘Cause I can—“
“No, Rafe. I just…I don’t get what you mean. Your girl?”
“Yeah.” He says, confused.
“Like…your girlfriend? Dating? Us?”
“Fuck. Yes, baby. My girlfriend.” Rafe says the word as though it’s a pain to say it. “Will you be my girlfriend? Please?” You could tease him about the way he’s practically begging you.
“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” You joke, not being able to resist. Rafe laughs, glad to hear your usual self. 
“Well, I’m kinda hoping that I’m your…boyfriend, now.”
“Hmm…let me think…” You say, tapping your chin as if this is something you need to contemplate. You can see his demeanor sadden from the corner of your eye, causing you to look over at him. “What’s in it for me?” You add, a smirk threatening to appear on your face. You can barely hold back your laughter at this point, but he still looks so sad, like a puppy who can’t have a treat. “Jesus Rafe, I thought you’d never ask.” You don’t even give him enough time to respond before you’re on top of him, his lips immediately seeking yours.
“Yeah? You mean it?” He asks between kisses, almost nervously. 
“Of course I do, Rafe. ‘Promise.” 
You always know just what to say to him to calm down his mind, he loves that about you. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. God, I fuckin’ love you.” Your eyes widen at his confession, you look down at him. He’s almost just as shocked as you are. He didn’t even know he felt that way. The words just slipped out, but they felt so right. “Fuck, no, I meant—“ Rafe starts, but you cut him off. You kiss him again,  passionately. This kiss shows him exactly how you feel, somehow being more intimate than having sex with him was. 
“I love you, Rafe. I promise.” You know how he can feel like everybody is against him, so you try to reassure him as much as you can. You’re the only one who’s ever made him feel cared for; he just never wanted to fuck things up with you. “Please just…can you promise me that you’ll stop beating up random strangers who talk to me? ‘Cause I don’t care about them, Rafe. I care about you.”
This is all so new, talking to each other in this way. But it’s how you’ve both always felt. “But y/n, he-“ Rafe pauses, reconsidering his words for you. He sighs and then mumbles, “Yeah…I’ll try.” He looks back at you, you with a stern look in your eyes. “I will. I promise.”
You smile, leaning down for a kiss. Quickly, things start to escalate again. Rafe flips you both over so he’s on top. He leans down to kiss your neck, sucking and nipping at it as he works his way down, kissing every inch of you. 
“Mnmh…fuck…” You moan.
Rafe smiles against your skin. “Yeah, baby? That feels good huh?” You only nod eagerly as a response. Rafe takes hold of his already hard cock, using his fist to pump over himself a few times, letting out a low growl. He rubs his dewy, pink tip over your sticky hole. 
You let out a moan, still being sensitive from your previous orgasms. “F-fuck…Rafe, m’too sensitive, s’too much.” You whine.
“Shh…shhhh baby, it’s okay. I’m not gonna do nothin’, jus’ wanna show you how proud of my girl I am.” His mouth works it’s way down, landing back between your thighs. Your boyfriend softly bites at your inner thighs, his eyes staying trained on you as your face contorts in pleasure. Eventually he finds your soaking core, lapping up the mix of your juices. You feel his fingers gather some of your arousal, mixed with his cum. Before you know it, those fingers are deep inside your throat. “Taste that, baby? Hm? Taste how fucking good we are?” 
You nod, whining when his mouth finds your core again. His tongue flicks at your most sensitive bud, making you jump. Although Rafe only holds onto harder the more you try to run. “Baby, it’s okay. Let me take care of you; clean you up.”
It doesn’t take long until you’re yet again, a shaking, crying mess underneath him. When his mouth works it’s way back to yours, you can taste both of you on his tongue. “Fuckin’ love this pussy. I fucking love you.”
You smile a weak, tired smile at him. He rolls off of you, flipping you both on your side so he can spoon you. He kisses your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing mindless shapes into your skin. “I love you too.” You respond as you drift off to sleep in your boyfriend's arms.
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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to leave more asks, I will most likely get to them at some point. Thank you!
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skyward-floored · 3 days ago
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Whumptober Day 31 - making amends
Cries wails screams sobs I’m finally done I’m gonna cry
This isn’t the best but it’s DONE and that’s all that matters, babey. Thanks to everybody who’s stuck around and read these, I appreciate you all so so much <3 if you want the long version of the thanks go to ao3 lol.
Thank you guys again 💖
Ao3 link
Warnings: brief injury and blood.
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Hyrule had punched Wild in the face.
Time hadn’t seen it happen himself, busy washing clothes with a few of the others, but when the yelling had started and they’d rushed back to camp with their swords drawn, it was blatantly obvious what had happened. Blood was streaming from Wild’s nose, and he and Hyrule both looked furious as Warriors forcibly dragged the two of them apart.
Twilight quickly snagged Wild when he tried to leap forward again, and Sky grabbed Hyrule, the other heroes in camp in varying stages of getting up or in the process of intervening, faces alarmed.
Time frowned, staring at the evidence of the brawl in front of him. More than one punch had obviously been thrown, seeing as Hyrule had a split lip and a shiny eye, Wild with scraped knuckles and a scratched chin that was mostly concealed by the blood running down his face, hair messier than usual. Both of them were further dirty and scuffed and giving each other death glares, and Time lowered his sword as he strode forward.
“And what is going on here?” He demanded, and both boys startled, then resumed their glaring.
“They were arguing about something, I didn’t hear it all,” Warriors admitted when neither of them spoke, crossing his arms.
“It was nothing,” Wild hissed under his breath, and Time raised an eyebrow as more blood dripped from his nose.
“Somehow I doubt that,” Time said flatly, and Wild glared at the ground, Hyrule glaring out at the forest. “What on Farore’s green earth were you two fighting about that was so serious you decided hitting each other was the best course of action?”
Instead of replying, Hyrule finally managed to squirm out of Sky’s grip and bolt into the woods.
“Traveler!” Legend shouted from his place near Time, then growled to himself. “...aaaaand nope he’s gone.”
Wild took their distracted states to also make a break for it, and Time sighed as he disappeared in the opposite direction from Hyrule, both heroes gone in moments.
“Did really nobody hear what started it?” he asked wearily, rubbing a hand over his brow.
“I heard Wild say something about Zelda,” Four spoke up, looking uneasy. “But not much else. I was reading.”
“It seemed like one moment they were just arguing and then the next they were rolling around on the ground at each other’s throats,” Warriors sighed, tapping his fingers on his arm as he spoke. “I apologize. I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad.”
“Well, I’m going after Wild,” Twilight said with a frown, already turning in the direction the champion had gone. “These woods are dangerous, I don’t want him running off alone even if he is mad.”
“I’ll go find our traveler,” Time added, and Legend shrugged, turning back the way they’d come.
“Have fun. I don’t want to untangle that mess. I’ll go get the laundry.”
Time went one way and Twilight went the other, and everyone else mostly went back to what they were doing (with the exception of Legend, who nearly tripped in his haste to get back to the river when he realized their clothes were trying to wash away).
Time followed the faint trail Hyrule had left, the signs of someone passing this way a bit more obvious than they’d normally be. Hyrule really must have been mad if he hadn’t taken the time to be as cautious. Time frowned to himself as he walked, purposely taking his time. He figured he’d give Hyrule some time to cool down, but in the meantime he wondered what it was that had set the two of them off so much.
Wild and Hyrule usually got on like a house on fire, and when they argued, it was usually just in jest. Four had said Zelda had come up, but how had that gotten them to the point of blows? Had that really been the only issue?
Time sighed and shook his head. He wouldn’t know until he found the traveler.
Assuming he’s willing to talk.
A few more minutes of walking went by before Time heard a noise, and he followed it, listening intently. He stepped over a small stream, and found Hyule pacing in an angry little circle around the clearing he’d come upon. His face was red and his eye had further swollen, a little bit of blood still staining his lip, but his cheeks also looked damp from something besides blood. Time stepped forward and Hyrule leveled a glare on him, which turned to a confused look as he realized which hero it was.
Time nodded a greeting, but didn’t do anything else, merely stayed where he was while Hyrule blinked at him. His surprise quickly slipped away, and Hyrule huffed, turning away from him.
“Come to drag me back to camp?” he asked, voice strangely level.
“No, Twilight merely mentioned these woods are dangerous, and it would be unwise to be alone,” Time replied, and Hyrule blinked again, then waved him off, his sour expression easing a bit.
“I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me.”
“Perhaps, but it’s nice to have backup. Especially if you can’t see very well,” Time said, and Hyrule raised an eyebrow.
“I could say the same of you,” he said as he crossed his arms. “Can you see very well? You may keep the lid closed but I’ve seen you flicker your eye before.”
His tone was sharp, and Time frowned. “We’re not here to talk about me,” Time said firmly, and Hyrule turned away again. Time sighed, and made an effort to soften his voice when he spoke again. “Hyrule, what happened?”
The traveler looked down at the leaf litter, bits of moss and grasses sticking up from between the leaves. He nudged at a fern that was still uncurling, then sighed and kicked at the ground.
“Wild doesn’t get it,” he bit out, not looking at Time. “Doesn’t get our situations were different. He thinks— he thinks Zelda is just—”
Hyrule let out a growl of frustration, raising a hand to wipe at his cheek.
“He doesn’t get it!” Hyrule continued as his hands tightened into fists. “I know she’s not weak, but she’s just a young lady! She can’t fight, and if she tried and she was hurt I’d— I’d never forgive myself, and Wild— why does he— rrrgh!”
Hyrule harshly kicked a rock off into the woods, then sat down on a log with a hard thump.
He went silent, and Time cautiously joined his side, sitting beside him on the log when he made no move to stop him. They didn’t speak for several moments, and Time looked up at the trees, most green, some yellow, a handful already turning to orange and red. A bright blue bird flew past, calling a short song into the air, and its mate answered off in the distance.
Hyrule sighed, and his shoulders abruptly slumped.
“I don’t know why I hit him,” Hyrule whispered. “We’ve... it was a stupid argument. Things have just been so tense since Twi...”
He shook his head and stared at the ground, and Time slowly breathed out.
It was true. Their entire group had been on edge since Twilight’s brush with death, and apparently the tension was still as strong as ever despite his recovery. Enough to make two heroes that normally got on better than most of them to exchange blows.
Over Zelda of all things.
“I would bet that the champion feels similarly,” Time said quietly, Hyrule still staring at the ground. “You may have hit him, but it’s quite obvious he hit you back, and I doubt he meant to go so far either.”
“Maybe. We were really going at it,” Hyrule mumbled, wiping more blood off his chin. “I don’t know what came over me. He was being stupid, and I just couldn’t... ugh.”
Hyrule slumped further over, and kicked at the leaves with his boot.
“Do you think he hates me?” he said, so quietly Time barely heard it.
Time sighed, then made sure Hyrule was looking when he shook his head “No. Our champion has been hit by a lot worse than a punch. I doubt he’ll hate you for a broken nose,” Time reassured, and Hyrule’s eyes went wide.
“Did I really break his nose?!”
“It... looked that way,” Time admitted, and guilt rushed across Hyrule’s swelling face. “We have plenty of potions, traveler, I’m sure there’s no permanent harm done.”
Hyrule looked away from him and nodded, though he still looked guilty. He suddenly sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, a strange mixture of emotions on his face.
“I hate this. I hate the shadow,” he whispered. “If it wasn’t for him— I hate that Twilight almost died. If my spell hadn’t worked— it almost didn’t— he...”
His voice died, and Hyrule swallowed as Time’s stomach lurched unpleasantly.
He’d been trying not to dwell on that night, but memories suddenly flooded his brain without his permission. Hyrule pushing and pushing and passing out from sheer exhaustion, Twilight pale as the moon outside as he clung weakly to life, Time staying up to watch the both of them as he weighed his ocarina in his hand, his eye fixed on Twilight’s chest, heart skipping a beat every time his breath hitched.
It had been days now, but the anxiety was still there, and Time hadn’t realized just how much it had been affecting everyone else.
“Traveler, you did admirably,” Time said in a quiet voice, setting a hand on his arm. “Despite everything you managed to heal him, which was more than any of the rest of us could do. You saved Twilight’s life. And you have my eternal thanks for that.”
Hyrule’s face turned red for a reason besides injury, and he looked away as Time squeezed his shoulder.
“But Twilight isn’t the issue at the moment,” Time continued, setting aside his turbulent thoughts. “You and Wild are. Your arguing is none of my business, but coming to blows is a real issue.”
“He deserved it,” Hyrule said viciously, then wilted, sighing. “I know. I should... probably apologize.”
“That seems wise,” Time agreed with a smile, and offered a hand to Hyrule. “Shall we head back?”
Hyrule hesitated, and Time saw something flash in his gaze. “Maybe not... just yet,” he mumbled, and Time nodded.
“That sounds fine. We should probably give him time to cool off further anyway. Our champion has quite the temper."
"He's not the only one, Hyrule admitted with a tiny smile.
Time and Hyrule spent a good hour just sitting there, listening to the woods and the tiny creek, not really talking much at all. Hyrule didn’t heal himself or take the potion Time offered, but Time didn’t press it. If he couldn’t convince him to heal himself now, he was sure Legend or the captain could. Maybe even Wild, once they made up.
Which Time was confident would happen.
They'd better.
Right as the sun began to sink behind the tree trunks, Hyrule raised his head and stood, exhaling slowly. Time stood up as well, and they wordlessly headed back to camp, Hyrule staying quiet.
The walk seemed much shorter on the way back, and it wasn’t long before they broke through the trees of the clearing where they’d set up, six gazes flickering their way, a seventh staring at the ground. The silence stretched, and Wind quickly resumed the conversation he’d paused when Time and Hyrule had appeared, which made everyone get back to what they’d been doing as well.
Time couldn’t help studying Wild as everyone pretended things were normal, and he sighed.
Wild’s nose had obviously been taken care of, the blood cleaned from his face, but his chin had a bandage on it, and his nose looked a little red. He was crouched by the fire, ignoring Hyrule, and stirring some kind of soup that Time had smelled long before they’d arrived. Twilight was sitting beside him, cutting off slices of warm bread, and Time gently clapped Hyrule on the shoulder before he went to go sit down.
Hyrule’s jaw worked for a moment as he stood in the middle of camp, and then he slowly walked over to Wild and Twilight, his hands fidgeting at his sides.
“Do you... need any help?” he asked, and though Wild didn’t react, Twilight looked up, smiling at him.
“Here, you can finish slicing this,” he offered, handing Hyrule the bread and the knife. “You’ll probably get the pieces more even than me anyway.”
Hyrule hesitantly took them, and Twilight scooted over, making room for Hyrule between him and Wild. Hyrule to his credit didn’t hesitate, sitting down without another word, though he left plenty of room between him and the champion.
Time watched them from his place beside Warriors, and the captain watched the two of them intently, obviously ready to get up at the slightest show of aggression. But Wild and Hyrule, despite only being a foot apart, were very effectively pretending the other wasn’t there, Wild sprinkling salt in his soup, Hyrule methodically slicing bread.
Time watched Wild cook, the champion firmly keeping his head turned away from Hyrule, and he raised an eyebrow as he realized what kind of soup he was making. Hyrule’s gaze flickered to the pot as Wild tossed in some herbs, and he blinked, obviously realizing what Time just had.
Wild had made Hyrule’s favorite.
Hyrule swallowed, and he set the bread down onto a cloth, finished slicing it up.
“I’m sorry,” he said, so quietly Time barely made it out. Wild paused in his stirring, his hood effectively hiding his expression from the angle Time was sitting, and Wind’s laugh at something Sky said felt out of place.
Wild slowly leaned over, taking something out of his pouch, and he carefully ladled hot soup into the bowl he’d grabbed.
Then he offered it to Hyrule.
Hyrule blinked, Twilight stilled beside him, and Time and Warriors watched in silence as he stared at the steam rising slowly from the bowl.
“Me too,” Wild whispered, his expression somehow miserable and awkward and exhausted all at the same time.
Hyrule gave him a wobbly smile and accepted the bowl, and though neither of them said anything further, it was like a fog had lifted off of their group. The mood instantly seemed to get lighter, and Warriors gave Time a relieved look.
Time returned it, and watched with a smile as Wild scooted closer to Hyrule, and the two began passing out food to everyone. They began quietly talking, and Time's smile grew as Hyrule blushed, and Wild grinned at something, tapping his nose.
Time stood up and got his own bowl, and watched the two of them carrying on like nothing had happened at all. Hyrule shot him a small smile as he walked over, and Time sat down beside Twilight, returning it as he casually slung an arm around his descendant.
Twilight leaned against him a little, and Time took a sip of soup, the warmth it sent to his stomach nothing compared to the warmth all around him.
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joelswritingmistress · 2 days ago
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Neighbors with Benefits: Chapter 14 (Joel x reader)
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Joel Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 2000
Your mother was busy getting all the side dishes ready for the picnic while your dad packed coolers of beer, soda and water outside and prepped the grill.
“I'll bring these out,” you offered, repeating what felt like a thousand times, “What else do you need?”
You knew your mother had a thousand things to say, and maybe a hundred questions after that. Still, she remained cordial and attempted to seem normal on the surface. You knew by her tightly wound mannerisms that she wasn't even close to portraying that - at least not to you. She might've fooled a coliseum full of people with her mask, but not you.
When everything was set up and less than an hour remained until guests began to arrive, you tried to excuse yourself.
“Okay, I’m going to shower.” You scampered toward the stairs but your mother called you back.
Fuck. You had almost gotten up the stairs, but without stalling made your way back to where your mom stood in the kitchen.
“Do you need any more help?” You tried to butter her up a bit by offering your aid and pressing on a smile, but your mother wasn't having it.
“You need to consider what you're doing, (Y/N),” she warned, “I'm saying it for your own good.”
“Okay,” you halfheartedly agreed.
“I mean it,” your mother went on. “I honestly don't know what other advice to give you. He’s a man. He's married.”
“He's not with Cecille,” you insisted, “Do you really think I'd get involved with a married man? I mean, I guess legally he is but they haven't lived together for awhile and they're getting a legal divorce.”
“You're twenty-three.”
“And I'm able to date who I want to date,” you said without trying to sound confrontational. “Mom, I know on the surface this looks bad. But I'm going to feel this out and see where it goes. If I get my heart broken, it's on me. I have feelings for Joel and he has feelings for me. I’ll deal with the consequences, whatever they might be.”
She stared at you for a long moment before saying quietly. “Okay.” Her white flag was waving and, if nothing else, she was done fighting you on it - for the moment.
A temporary victory. You knew this meant your mother wasn't going to tell your father; not yet. And so you silently thanked her with a closed-mouth smile and took the stairs to take a shower.
***
The picnic had dragged. You checked your phone again and again and again. Joel, you guessed, was refraining from being the one to initiate conversation. You couldn't blame him, and you hoped that was all it was - him being cautious.
What if it's over? You wondered. What if that's it? What if all this scared him off?
Your anxiety got the best of you and you wandered around the side of your house to text him. Your thumbs danced on the screen as you asked how his day was going, if he got in touch with Tommy and if later was still good to meet up.
You chewed on your thumbnail and rounded back into the picnic. It was much to your relief that Cecille hadn't shown up. As the hours ticked by you grew more hopeful that she wouldn't swing by. Still, seeing her car in the driveway next door made your insides twist with a concoction of feelings.
Ding! Your phone sounded off and your head was pulled down like a magnet toward the screen.
Text me a time, Joel texted back to you, remember how to get to the fishing spot?
You typed back without hesitation: Yes. I'll let you know when I'm done here.
All you wanted was to be back with. You wanted to take in his body language, hear his words. You wanted to know that despite what had happened that morning, that everything was alright.
You glanced around the backyard at the scene you would have typically enjoyed. There was a four on four volleyball game going on, two people were playing cornhole, others were talking and laughing around the tables you'd helped your parents set up. Regardless of the smiles, the music, the laughter and the sun shining down on everyone, your smiles were forced and fake.
By the time the last of the guests were waving goodbye, you couldn't wait any longer.
Seven o'clock? You typed to Joel, while helping your parents clean up.
You folded a table in half and began lugging it toward the open bay of the garage. When your phone pinged, you set the table down on the driveway so you could check it.
I'm addicted, you acknowledged. Fuck.
Being head over heels for someone was more than you bargained for. You truly felt addicted to Joel Miller.
I'll be waiting, Joel wrote back.
His words out more pep in your step, and you hurried to lug in the cornhole boards and a second table. Inside, you helped your mother wrap up some of the leftovers and wipe down the countertops before finally hurrying to retrieve your keys and a backpack you prepared.
“Are you going to be home tonight?” Your mother asked. She held your gaze and you shook your head.
“I don't think so “ you told her honestly, “But I'll let you know for sure.” She added, “Is that alright?”
“Like you said, you're twenty-three.” She shrugged. “You can do whatever you want.” Your mother turned toward the sink. “Be careful. And text me.”
“I love you.”
She turned and met your gaze. Despite her outward, quiet concern for the situation she said honestly. “I love you, too.”
On a completely opposite and oblivious note, your father high-fived you by the front door as he entered after putting some things in the garage.
“See ya later, kiddo!”
You smiled to yourself, relieved by his nonchalant demeanor. “See ya later, Dad. Love ya.”
“I love you, too.”
You were out the door a few seconds later, speeding off into the night to meet Joel at your secret location. You needed to see him in the worst way. Despite his agreement to meet, there was doubt that plagued the back of your mind.
What if, what if, what if…
Your foot hit the gas a little harder as you drove from back road to back road until the park came into view. You had to really think to remember a few of the last bends in the road but soon you recognized the wooded area that led down to the lake.
Where is he? Where is he?
Relief filled your core when you saw Joel’s truck in a small clearing. Your stomach filled with butterflies as you pulled up beside him. Joel turned from where he sat in the driver’s seat and he flung his door open almost immediately.
Oh, no, you thought. He has something to say.
Joel looked like a man on a mission. You prepared yourself for the worst. You prepared yourself for the heartache. The other shoe was about to drop. All of a sudden you were scared to get out of the car. Joel's face was too serious. If you just sat there then you wouldn't have to hear his let down.
Stop! You scolded yourself.
You popped open your door and let yourself as Joel rounded the front of your car.
Fuck, he looks good.
Joel was all you thought all about all day - not that that was anything new. He stared at you down with jeans a snug fitting white t-shirt. It hugged his rugged upper in all the right places and your former anxious thoughts were replaced far different ones.
“Hi,” you said to him, folding your hands in front of you.
Joel didn't immediately say anything. He appeared as if he was studying you. You were sure he was far better at it than you were.
He walked the rest of the way to you and you went to speak again.
“Joel, I-” You were cut off when he grabbed your face and kissed you firmly on the lips. You kissed him back, letting your guard down completely in his embrace. Almost immediately it grew heated. Your hands began to wander. He began to snake your shirt up over your head and before you knew it you were nearly naked in the bed of his truck with his body blanketing yours.
“Joel,” you finally choked out, “I want you.”
“I love you,” he voiced in a gruff whisper against your lips before devouring them once more.
“I love you,” you whimpered back. One of your legs hooked around his naked waist and Joel groaned into your mouth.
Everything about the moment was feral and raw and right. Being apart all day amidst the uncertainty and the angst made you needy for one another. As bad as you wanted Joel, you wondered if he wanted you more. It felt impossible, but the way he approached you that evening without even saying a word left you breathless.
Darkness had fully taken over the world when the two of you finished. Even long after your lovemaking was through, your lips touched, your hands explored one another and Joel kissed along your collarbone, neck and shoulders.
Being out in nature completely nude and basking in the afterglow of perhaps the most tender, emotional sex you had ever had was an experience you wouldn't soon forget.
“I was afraid you were going to break things off with me,” you said quietly, kissing Joel’s neck as he closed his eyes beside you.
“I could never do that.”
“Never?” You let your teeth graze his neck as you continued to kiss him there.
“Mmm..” Joel moaned out loud, “Never.”
Laying face-to-face you linked your arm up under his and rested your palm on his shoulder blade. You pulled him close and kissed him. There was no getting enough of Joel. You slipped your tongue past his lips and he eagerly reciprocated. As you made out you felt him harden again against your upper thigh.
“I want you again,” you practically begged, pulling him closer. “Please.” Your hand drifted down to his lower back and Joel rolled his body back on top of yours with your encouragement.
His kiss was smoldering. You pawed your arms around him and tangled a hand in his thick, dark hair. When Joel’s lips parted from yours he kissed down your neck to the tops of your breasts before separating himself from you.
“No,” you begged, pulling him back with a smile as your teeth caught your bottom lip.
Joel satisfied you with a sloppy, closed-mouth kiss. “I'm just reaching inside for some blankets,” he explained, whispering against your lips. Joel pried open the back window on his truck and grabbed a small stack of blankets from the back seat.
You adjusted so he could place a few down on the truck bed and then laid back down flat and pulled him back to you.
Your bodies connected immediately as his lips crashed back against yours. When your lips finally parted to take a breath, you gasped out the words, “Don't leave me.”
Why was this such a problem for you? Even Joel, himself, saying he would never leave wasn't convincing enough. You were too deep into it emotionally and it was making you a wreck inside.
Joel, patient as ever, brought his lips to your ear. “You're mine.” His teeth latched onto your ear lobe and he swirled his tongue around the area. “All mine.”
Your head dropped back in pleasure and you dug your fingers into his back.
New kink unlocked.
@mellymbee @pedropascal111 @axshadows @mybritishstyle @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @goodvibesonly421 @cosmic006533-blog @ashleyfilm @maybetomorrowgirl @rebeccawinters @cuteanimalmama @vickie5446 @writlingerz @drewharrisonwriter @churchofjoemiller
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afterglowkatie · 1 day ago
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another one | k.m./c.f.
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katie mccabe x caitlin foord x child!reader | 0.6k | caitlin sends katie a video that leads to talks of another baby
ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of my new little starfish universe. here's a little blurb/small fic to make it all better after that match! little starfish universe is getting expanded 'three becomes four'
Katie and Caitlin were cuddling in bed, Katie’s head laying on Caitlin’s chest. They’d both just got back home after being apart for the last two weeks representing their countries during international break. You’d joined your mammy this camp since it was their play-offs for the euros next year. Two big games that your mammy needed her little starfish there for, you being there always kept her more calm both on and off the pitch. Caitlin, only being available for the first two of the four friendlies lined up, had managed to get to Ireland for Katie’s second match.
‘You’ve been quiet tonight,’ It was natural for the pair to have more of a quiet night especially when they’ve just come back from an international break, just wanting to enjoy each other’s company. But for Katie, to be as quiet as she has been was more on the unusual side. Even on the plane back, Katie was more just watching Caitlin and you together. Katie knew Caitlin was an amazing mum to you, Caitlin was an amazing mum in general.
They’d both gotten you settled down for the night pretty easily, knowing you wouldn’t wake up until the morning. Camp always tired you out like that. Katie sighed, whenever she wasn’t playing or training there was one thing on her mind the entire time she was at camp. 
Caitlin had sent a video of her with a baby while she was at camp, captioned with ‘I want another one’ and it had Katie thinking more. In the back of her mind the thought of having another baby with Caitlin was always there. Now it was all she could think about. But what if Caitlin had just said it in the heat of the moment and wasn’t as serious as Katie was about wanting another one.
Katie sighed and sat up a little, not leaving Caitlin’s embrace though, ‘That video you sent me,’ Katie started off, ‘The one with the baby. Do you really want another one?’ Katie didn’t really want to look up and see Caitlin’s reaction, just in case, so she stayed just looking down at her fingers.
Caitlin’s eyes softened and she brought Katie in closer, if it was even possible. Her hand cupping Katie’s cheek, gently moving her head so Katie was looking at her. You had your mammy’s eyes and whenever Katie allowed herself to be vulnerable, her eyes always matched the innocence in yours. Caitlin thought about you and her life with Katie and she honestly couldn’t imagine not having another baby with her, couldn’t imagine not giving you a sibling just like she and Katie both had. Having a sibling/siblings was the best part of their childhood and they wanted you to have that.
‘Darling, of course I want to have another baby. Especially if it means having another baby with you,’ Caitlin gave a small and soft kiss to Katie’s lips, ‘I couldn’t imagine my life any other way. Multiple little feet running around, seeing Starfish being a big sister, getting to be a mum alongside you. Sounds like the perfect life for me. I meant what I said,’ 
Katie leaned her forehead against Caitlin’s, ‘You really want another one?’ Katie asked again for reassurance.
‘I really really want another baby,’ Caitlin whispered out, arms wrapping around Katie even tighter. 
‘I really want that with you too,’ Katie whispered back, eyes tearing up a little at the thought of extending their little family and going through this process together, ‘Do you think Starfish would be okay with having a little brother or sister?’ 
‘Last camp when she saw Harper with Koby she asked me when she was getting one,’ Katie and Caitlin laughed together at the little memory Caitlin recounted and it definitely helped to settle any of the sudden thoughts she had that you wouldn’t be happy sharing your mummy and mammy with someone else. A thought that now definitely seemed irrational the more Katie thought about it. You would be the best big sister.
‘I love you,’ Caitlin smiled looking down towards Katie.
‘I love you,’
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John and his PYT pt.2
PT.1
Daddy kink, breeding (if you squint and tilt your head just right), as always, the reader is a black woman. MDNI🔞
Mr John "Munch" Price comes back from his deployment. I'm just thinking about him in a safe house, four whole weeks before he returns. He's had bullets rained down on him and his boys. The safe house is the first place he's had service in two months, and he can finally speak to you his pretty young thing, who's slowly becoming more and more of an obsession. On this mission, when he had time, he'd message you to let you know he was okay and enjoy the quips you'd send back. He honestly didn't want you leaving to go back to your home in America, despite you telling him to message when he could. He was incredibly put out when that damn plane took off, taking you with it, and he had to get ready to ship off on his own flight to who-the-fuck-all-kows-where. So when he knows he will be home on a set timeline, he messages you to see if you're up and if he can call.
"Yes, John?" Your voice is sleepy and soft, a far cry from the flirtatious and demanding tone you take with him. He likes you best when you're tired and pliant, not to say he doesn't like you fully awake, but this side of you, fuck, he hopes it just for him.
"I'll be home in four weeks. That means you have three weeks to get yourself home to England and a week to warm up our house." John doesn't cut any corners with you. He found out early on that you can handle a little pushback, a bit roughness, you submit to him when he's just open and honest about what he wants. He suspects it's you craving his approval, but you're too stubborn to say it and outright ask for it.
You huff on the other side of the line, complaining about him being a needy old man. You can't just drop everything because he says so. But he knows that you're smiling just a bit. There's no bite to the grumpy little complaints, and he remembers vividly the lewd little video you sent of yourself. Stuffing two fingers in your pussy and crying about how it wasn't enough. Sobbing because you needed Daddy to do it because the slight curve in his dick has you spoiled, and how dare he leave his baby girl to suffer?
"I'll transfer however much you need. I'll see you soon, Sweetheart."
🔞NSFW🔞
"Daddy! It's too much!" You've found yourself face down in John's bed on day three of him being home. The first two days were just him holding you, catching up on sleep, and insisting you tell him about your time back home. On day three, though, after you had made breakfast for him and got ready for what you thought would be a day out for you while he continued to decompress, he shoved you onto the bed and got to work.
Your hands were pressed behind you, palms slick with sweat as you tried to keep his thighs from pounding into you too fast. You're sorta glad you didn't do the whole laid edges thing and forty inch buss own because that hair would have been ruined with the way you're sweating and with the way he is clutching your curls to hold you still. The stretch of him fucking into you is glorious, better than your dildos at home or the one you brought with you as you waited the two weeks for him to get home. Each snap of his hips scoots you closer to heaven and the blinding pleasure that always comes with it.
John smacked your hand away from his thigh, "none of that baby girl." His larger hand wrapped around your wrist and pinned it to your back. His other hand, keeping a bruising grip to your waist "Daddy has to train his sweet girl's pussy to take him again and she's puttin' upa fuss-, fuck fuck fuck- arch your back just- fuuuck- just a bit more."
You do as you're told, pressing your ass into him, he hits deep, and you let out a wanton moan. "Daddy, I can't ah ah ah" train of thought lost as find finds your g-spot.
John huffed at the failed sentence, and there's a possessive streak running through him. His baby girl, his pretty young thing, actually came home to wait for him. The smell of dinner already made, his house dust free, his favorite whiskey actually restocked and waiting for him. And when you greeted him at the door, he knew he needed this to be permanent.
"You're mine, baby girl." He leaned forward, pressing tight against your skin. The way the morning sun bounced off of you made you glow, and he couldn't wait to have you at sundown riding him, the orange light framing your brown skin till it seemed like warm gold. And he definitely couldn't wait till it was only the moon highlighting you, and he was planning to have you slow, under him, with plenty of kisses to make up for the hellish three months he'd been away from you. "Tell me who you belong to."
"You, Oh John, I belong to you!" You shout as your body begins to tighten up. Your release is immenant it's been forever since you've had an orgasm this good. Not since you last were in England for your initial holiday where you met John. "Please Daddy, pleasee I'm so close." You whisper through your moans. You wonder if you even said words with how fucked out your mind is becoming. Every nerve in your body is heated up, and you know for a fact that you're actively having your sanity fucked out you. Then again, your sanity and common sense left after he convinced you to stay on vacation a little longer, and it never really came back, especially when he wired you money to come to his house and wait for him.
"Fuck baby, you're squeezing so tight, it's gonna take me all day to open you up right proper." his breathy grunts and groans make your toes curl and head spin. "I know - I kn-know ya gettin' close baby girl, just let Daddy take care of you and everything else." He has let go of your wrist and leaned down, pressing himself as close as possible to you.
Each drag of his dick through your walls has you gasping and just mumbling words that don't make sense. You answer his words with sighs and squeaks as he changes his rhythm to grinding against you. Hips flushed with yours, the hand that had been on your hip has found its way to your clit. A few lazy passes have you keening and crying as your body finally allows you to come.
"That's it, baby girl, I told you I'd take care of you." You can tell that he's close by the way he grunts out his syllables. Raw and rough and full of emotion, he kisses the side of your neck. Your hand that is fisting the blanket next to you gets covered by his. His fingers wriggling between yours so that he can hold your hand. In the far reaches of your mind, you know this is intimate. At the forefront, though, all you can focus on is his hard strokes and the stilling of his hips against yours as he came with a geoan of your name, accompanied by how he wrung another orgasm from you.
Your body is tight, as the waves of pleasure crest through you. The feel of his breath against your skin, the permanent scent of cigars, and aftershave from when he cleaned up his ridiculously sexy mutton chops. It was all too much.
"John," you whispered. Your thoughts were hazy.
"Yes, baby girl?" He kisses your cheek a d makes no move to get off of you. Once again, you find yourself hoping that your IUD is putting in work.
The morning feels like a hazy out of body experience. The next words that come out of your mouth will determine how everything else goes.
"I don't wanna go home."
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maybanksmusings · 2 days ago
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THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK
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SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.
WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!reader, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.
AUTHORS NOTE ; no yapping today
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part one. part two.
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you never knew how relaxing it was to lay in the sun, the steady movements of the boat gently rocking you side to side. it was almost as if you hadn't set fire to everything you and john b grew up believing.
john b knew his mom took off when he was a kid, what he didn't know was that she was pregnant when she left. you thought that your dad died and your mom lived in your hometown her entire life.
both of you agreed that, for now at least, this branch of the family tree would be kept from the others until you've had enough time to fully wrap your heads around everything without the added input from everyone else.
"ladies and losers." john b claps, grabbing the attention of everyone on board "with the newest addition to our dysfunctional family," he gestures in your direction earning applause from the group, with the addition of a cheer from jj "the no pouge-on-pouge macking rule is still in full effect, just in case anyone has forgotten."
you don't miss the glare sent in jj's direction, the blond in question, however, was too busy making a face at you to even notice that he was the target of that rule.
it takes everything in you not to laugh, you understand why the rule may have been implemented in the past. young kids making up rules to protect their friendship. but you surely were all old enough and mature enough to handle real adult relationships.
"does our newest recruit partake?" pope asked throwing a can of beer to jj and kiara before looking at you once more.
"are you forgetting she was flat drunk when she went all cat woman on topper?" kiara joked, cracking open her can and raising it to you "to passing your initiation."
"and to beating the shit out of a kook!"
"here here!"
you sit up to bow as the others raise their cans to you, unable to stop the soft laugh that escapes as you sit up again "thank you, thank you. i'd like to thank my agent, my manager,"
john b jokingly shoves your shoulder to shut you up "a little humility wouldn't kill you, you know."
"humility is for losers" you taunt, making your way over to the cooler to see for yourself what was inside "besides, you owe me so humility is redundant."
before you can continue excusing your incoming speech, you're jolted forward by a sudden bump in the boat. you lose your footing, grabbing the closest thing to you and dragging it into the water with you.
person. the closest person to you and dragging them into the water with you.
you were a pretty decent swimmer, decent enough to not drown at least, but when you hit the water, any swimming ability was replaced with dread. truth be told you shouldn't be surprised, not even twenty four hours ago someone did in fact try to drown you so it was only natural you began to panic.
your brain was begging your body to do something, to override your fear with instinct, but no matter what you did all you could do was kick and flail.
you cling to the familiar frame dragging you to the surface, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala clung to a tree. you hid your face in the crook of jj's neck to shield your tears from the group, even if there was a chance you could explain it away as water in your eyes.
"you're okay, baby" jj coos, his hand cradling the back of your head "you're safe, i got you."
"the fuck was that!?" kiara shouts, helping the boys drag you and jj back onto the boat.
pope peers out over the edge, trying to catch a glimpse of anything that could be in the water "guys, i think we hit a boat?" he calls out over his shoulder.
almost as if in sync, jj and john b exchanged a knowing look. they knew what it meant, from what you learned so far they've been attached at the hip for years so it wasn't a shock that they had some weird telepathy.
without a word from either of them, they dive off the side of the boat and into the water, undoubtedly to scout out whatever pope had spotted. neither kiara or pope showed much of a reaction, probably because they were used to their antics.
you, on the other hand, sat by the edge of the boat and peered into the murky water below. you were holding your breath, waiting for any sort of sign of life from either of the boys.
time passes agonisingly slowly, but soon enough you spot the unmistakable head of brown hair rising to the surface.
"jackpot, baby!" jj hollers, throwing his arms into the air in celebration "one poor bastard made aggie mad, that's a seriously primo boat."
kiara shrugs "what do those kooks expect, they're harming the environment with their flashy boats, it's karma."
"easy there, greenpeace." john b huffs, pulling himself up and into the boat "mother natures most recent victim could have all sorts of profitable shit inside."
"exibit a," jj announces proudly, producing a silver canister from his pocket "would our newest pledge like to do the honours?"
"i would love to incriminate myself by stealing private property!" you exclaim, sarcasm dripping off of every syllable. nonetheless, you take it from him and shake its contents onto the floor of the boat.
the metallic clang makes everyone wince, the group sighing in disappointment of seeing what was inside.
"wow, greaat, almost died over a lousy compass." jj groans, plopping himself down into a seat.
"it isn't a lousy compass," you mutter, scrambling to retrieve your fathers' compass from your backpack and comparing the two side by side.
they were identical.
"cause that isnt freaky.." pope mumbled, peering over your shoulder.
when you look to john b, he's already looking at you, knowing exactly who this compass used to belong to.
"it's a set," your voice sounds like you have just joined the dots of a brain wracking mystery.
"two compasses, one for each kid."
before anyone can question what exactly john b meant by that, a sharp noise zips past your ear, grazing the top of your arm and scaring the shit out of you.
the five of you look towards the source of the noise, another boat is coming towards the hms pouge, and the two men on board looked far from pleased as they aimed their guns right at the five of you.
"shit, shit!" john b ducks into the drivers seat and hits the gas, jolting all of you backwards as you sped through the marsh "get down!"
you all do as instructed, laying face down on the boats floor, rocking with every sharp, zig-zagged movement john b made. each of you flinch every time a metallic ding rings out against the boat's exterior, you hear kiara humming a tune to keep her mind occupied.
your eyes scan the boat for anything that could help, an idea coming to you the second you spot an old fishing net.
"y/n, what are you doing!? get down!"
you ignore popes shouts, moving quickly to gather up the net and toss it off the back of the boat. as you had hoped, the aggressors' boat gets caught up in the net, allowing john b to get you all out of there without harm.
"you moronic genius!" john b half praises, half scolds, the moment the boat stops at the chateau's dock. grabbing your shoulders and giving you a shake "what is with you and almost dying?"
"a thank you wouldn't hurt," you retort, the throbbing sting in your upper arm still as prominent as when it first happened "this poor girl couldn't handle it."
you pat the side of the hms as you climb off, your fellow pouges following behind as you all tiredly drag your feet towards the house.
"looks gnarly," jj remarked, appearing beside you and focusing his gaze on the small wound on your arm "here, lemme help out."
you are very much aware that it's nothing more than a surface wound, barely a graze, yet you allowed jj to lead you over to the hammock and sit you down.
when he headed inside to grab what he needed, you sank into the comfort of the hammock and closed your eyes. the slight breeze, the gentle rocking of the hammock, the warm sun burning down on you. it does a good job of helping you decompress from the insanity that ensued since your arrival.
the hammock shifts under you when jj returns, the extra weight tilting the fabric to bring you closer to him. he doesn't want to speak, to disturb you in your peaceful bubble. he knows he's staring but he can't look away.
"you just got here and you already look like you've been put through the wringer." jj jokes, though there's a clear sense of seriousness underneath.
and he isn't wrong, the bluish bruises staining your throat from toppers hand, and now the blood smeared all over your arm which made it look much worse than it was.
"two near-death experiences will do that,"
"two near-death experiences so far.."
you know he's telling the truth, but you can't help but laugh as he helps you sit up. a comfortable silence falls between you as he wipes around the graze with a cloth, before gently placing a bandaid over the wound.
the close proximity doesn't seem to phase either of you, at least not enough to get anyone to move. without a word, he reclines back into the hammock, an arm out in a silent invitation.
you reason with yourself that it was harmless, john b's 'macking' rule echoing in your ears as you considered your options. realistically speaking, both you and jj knew this was far from harmless but more like the edge of a slippery slope you could both snowball down.
but you were tired, and it was jj, and the others weren't even around to see it.
no harm, no foul, right?
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taglist!
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@rainingcecilias @gigistalked @loverofmarsss
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littleslaywrites · 15 hours ago
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dixieland delight | professor!spencer reid x student!reader 
summary: spencer reid is your professor, and you find out he’s never been to a football game. you take him to the last game of your senior year. (in honor of going to my first iron bowl tomorrow. roll tide beat auburn.)
word count: 2.3k
cw: f!reader, fluff, minor age gap (reader is 21, spencer is about 15 years older), possibly niche references to bama gameday traditions, excuse to write fanfic of bama winning since we can’t do that irl this season apparently
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As Spencer Reid’s student, you spent a good amount of your time visiting during his office hours. In fact, that’s how you got close enough to him that he asked you to become his girlfriend about six months ago. It was his first year teaching, and your final year in college. You assumed, considering that football was a prominent part of the campus culture, that he had been to at least one game this season. Therefore, it came as a surprise to you when he revealed that he had never been to any college football games. Something about him being a little too young and far too nerdy to enjoy the environment.
You had made it your mission for the past two months to convince him to come with you to just one game. He was resistant at first, but eventually you convinced him to attend the last game of the season. Your selling point was that it would be a great way to observe the minds of college students. A weak argument, sure, but he secretly wanted to spend time with you. It was the school’s big rivalry game, and he felt that he should experience it just once. He thought of it as an opportunity to do something he could never enjoy when he was younger, and if he could go with you, that would make it even better.
The week before the game, you made sure to prepare him for the traditions. First and foremost, you went to the store on campus and got him a polo with the team logo. He had to wear something nice to match you, but he couldn’t wear a suit and tie, or he’d end up looking like a pledge. You gave it to him in a gift bag with tulle, along with a shaker in the team colors. When you presented it to him, he was grateful for the gift, but not too thrilled about the outfit. You eventually convinced him to wear it, saying that he’d stick out in his usual outfit. You couldn’t convince him to forgo the mismatched socks, though. Next, you sent him all the chants and songs he would need to learn, Dixieland Delight being the most important. His reply was something about chants being passed down to each generation and popular culture transitioning to folk, but you were more focused on him focussing on not messing up the words come the fourth quarter. It was just one instance of many where you were grateful for his eidetic memory. Most importantly, you make sure he remembers the four most important words in the English language: “Roll Tide” and “Beat Auburn”. 
The morning of the game, you wake up bright and early at 8am. You told Spencer to meet you outside of your sorority house at 9:30. He was a little taken aback, considering the game didn’t start until 2:30, but you insisted on him getting the full experience, including early morning tailgating. It took you longer than usual to get ready, considering it was a full glam event. You put on your dress and boots, put your gameday pin on, and walked down the stairs, grabbing a sticker with your letters on it for Spencer. 
He is waiting outside your house, looking slightly out of place in the enthused crowd of girls that were taking pictures along the row. 
“I like the shirt,” you say, complementing your own taste.
“Thanks,” he replies, “I had a fantastic personal shopper.”
You laugh, pressing the sticker on his chest. He politely grabs your hand, intertwining his finger with yours.
Making your way to the quad, you tell him about who you’d be tailgating with. Some were clubs and organizations you were in at school, others were friends that lived nearby. He listens intently, curious about the peek into your world. 
“I brought earplugs,” he says as you walk to the grassy plain of pop-up tents. 
“Are you serious?” you say, lightly laughing at him.
“You know, repeated exposure to loud noise due to crowds can cause permanent hearing loss, especially–”
“Alright, I get it.” You smile at his aversion to even the slightest form of risk-taking. It’s hard to believe he rushed into danger as a special agent, but his innate instinct to help others must’ve driven him, you conclude. He smiles back, admiring your outfit and hair. He hardly ever gets to see you done up like this, so the picture of you makes his heart flutter like the first time he saw you.
By the time you’re done tailgating at about one, Spencer is tired from all the social interaction. Of course, he enjoyed meeting your friends, but he’s not necessarily the social type. Noticing his quickly draining social battery, you reassure him that he won’t have to be as conversational once you get to the stadium. 
“I know it’s a little hectic,” you reassure him. “Believe me, I was just as lost as you were as a freshman.”
You think of yourself at the beginning of college, an out-of-state freshman who’d never been to a big SEC game before. You were grateful for your sorority sisters who had shown you around, and you were excited to be that person for Spencer.
You stand together outside of the steps of the library, watching the band play the elephant stomp. Once they finish their routine, you follow the band, along with the crowd, to the stadium. Spencer is mesmerized by the crowd and their traditions, as well as their passion for the team. You follow his eyes, seeing your younger self in him, a reversal of the usual dynamic where he sees his younger self in you.  
His one request was that you wouldn’t sit in the student section. He could picture how thousands of drunk college students would be, and decided that it would set his germaphobia off as soon as he got there. You two are sitting near the field, Spencer not minding spending the extra for a better view. As you told him, if he was going to do it, he should do it right.
Before you take your seats, you stop by the concessions. You get stadium essentials: pretzels, Denny dogs, and popcorn to share. When you walk out of the tunnel, Spencer is instantly blinded by the sun. The fans are astonishingly excited, considering there’s still 45 minutes until kickoff.
“Are they a little more peppy than the crowds at your comic cons?” you ask, seeing his eyes widening.
“A little.” he smiles down at you, following the lead of your clomping boots up the stairs. 
When the game starts, he follows along in the fight song, thankful it’s not too hot. He brought sunscreen along, explaining to you that UV is damaging even when it’s cloudy. At his request, you put it on, wanting to make him happy. 
Throughout the game, you lean in to his ear to explain the plays. He opts not to wear the earplugs, wanting to hear every word you say. 
“So they get four more downs?” he asks after one particular play where the announcer calls out “first down Alabama”, and the crowd replies with a Roll Tide. 
“Exactly,” you say, proud of how fast he’s learning. “You're almost as good of a student as you are a teacher.”
He smiles at your compliment. “It helps when the rest of the crowd is giving hints.”
At halftime, he finds he enjoys the band performance a little more than the actual game, but he’d never tell you that. He makes sure to sing along when they play “Yea Alabama”, knowing it’ll make you proud of his memorization. Your enthusiasm in his interests made him feel supported, and he wanted you to feel the same. He knows what it’s like to be ignored when ranting about whatever fun facts he had to share, so he takes effort to not make you feel the same. 
He tentatively wraps his arm around your waist, reassured when you lean into him. He’s always nervous to be affectionate with you, knowing you were worried at first how people would see you when you started dating. Slowly, you got more comfortable in his presence, allowing him to steal a kiss every now and then. He was professional in class, but after that, you were just like any other couple. In a sense, the game was a milestone. Not only were you in public with him, but surrounded by your peers. It warmed his heart that you were proud enough of your relationship to let others see you with him. He always feared he would date someone who would be embarrassed by him, but you were the opposite. You were enamored by everything about him, you loved his brain, his looks, his heart. Enough that you even asked the people sitting behind you to take pictures of the two of you. 
You smile down at the image, the two of you in your gameday outfits with the field behind you. 
“You look downright southern,” you say, turning your phone to show him. 
You both laugh at this, him asking you to send the picture to him. He likes to print his photos out, organizing them in physical albums rather than on his phone, like you did. He makes sure to remember to get an extra for you. 
At the start of the fourth quarter, they play “Basket Case” by Green Day, the only song he knew before his lessons in football. He dances along with you, embarrassment escaping him due to your carefree moves. 
It’s not too sunny but not too cold, the perfect weather, in your mind, for a game. You wish it was a night game, but the rivalry makes up for it. 
When “Dixieland Delight” comes on, he pulls out the shaker you bought for him. 
Holding my lover with the other, a sweet, soft, Southern thrill 
For a moment, he understands why the crowd doesn’t make you feel claustrophobic.
Hold her up tight (against the wall), make a little loving (all night) 
There’s a unity he feels with the other fans as they chant the same words as him.
The sun begins to set over the stadium, dipping below the edge of the upper bowl. You comment on it, and Spencer says something about why the colors look the way they do, but you’re instantly distracted by the Tide running in the game winning touchdown with a 1:32 left in the fourth quarter. The stadium erupts right as Spencer finishes talking, confusing him as he wasn’t really watching the game as his attention was on you. 
You’re jumping around and cheering, so he joins in. He would usually feel weird being so enthusiastic, but with the crowd all screaming, he’d almost feel weirder if he didn’t. As the clock runs down, he remembers the final tradition of the game: Rammer Jammer.  
When you made him learn all the traditions, you told him that this one was for when you won. Not if, but when. He pointed out your phrasing, but your reply was only “we’re Alabama, of course we’ll win”. 
You assumed prior to the game he’d be opposed to heading down to the strip afterwards, considering the crowd would probably pack the streets. He didn’t seem like the type of guy to go to Rounders, anyway. However, as everyone filed out of the stadium, he turned to you and asked what you were doing after the game. 
The high from the win was infectious, and, realizing how fun your traditions were, he wanted to do it all. 
“What about Taco Bell?” you ask, making the executive decision to rule out any bars. He agrees to that plan, holding your hand as you two walk down University Blvd, packed on all sides by the celebrating students. 
“You people go crazy when you win, huh?”
“You should be glad this wasn’t against Tennessee,” you reply.” “I would’ve made you pull out a cigar with the rest of the crowd.” 
He smiles, just slightly concerned at the tradition, but choosing not to mention the health risks of smoking. Since you’ve been dating, he’s loosened up, your spirit infectious. 
Crammed between the rowdy crowd, he looks at you and smiles. He can tell you have a hint of concern for him, so he squeezes your hand, signifying that he’s enjoying himself. 
“I’m glad you convinced me to come,” he says, taking in the energy. 
“Me, too. I just wish I convinced you before my last home game.”
“I guess we’ll just have to come back next year.”
This makes you blush, being the first time he’s mentioned anything long term. Part of him enjoys seeing your reaction. He’d usually fumble over his words, explaining himself away, but he sticks with it this time, meaning what he says about the future. 
The two of you grab your food, watching everyone on the street from inside. 
“A little different from CalTech?”
“A bit,” he smiled. “I wouldn’t call it a party school, and we sure didn’t do football like you guys do.”
“Ever wish you went somewhere down South?”
“I think today was about enough for me.” 
You both laugh at this, knowing, even if he wasn’t as young as he was in college, he wasn’t in his element. 
He walks you back to the house afterwards, hugging you outside the door. In bed that night, you find yourself smiling at a future where you can drag him along to more games, hoping his comment of “next year” would ring true by then. Or this year would work better, a playoff at Bryant-Denny or even the Rose Bowl. Now that you thought about it, that’d be even better. You fall asleep with visions of a national championship (with Spencer and you in the crowds watching) dancing in your head. 
Lucky as a seven, living in heaven with my dixieland delight
a/n: This fic is majorly based on my own life and my own daydreams about our boy Spencer if he worked at my school. Reading it over it sounds like I’m crushing on bama football more than Spencer (which might be true oops). Anyway, I'm gonna start going thru requests soon but I just had to put this idea into writing 🫶
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firequeenofficial · 2 days ago
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Tw: death (obv)
There are four people left on the server. By some miracle, Lizzie and Jimmy are half of them. To no one's surprise, Joel and Gem are the other half.
Each team was at their base, gearing up.
"We're not walking away from this fight, Lizzie," Jimmy murmured.
They were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the bed Scar once shared with Grian, only a few short days ago. It felt like lifetimes.
"We could do this," Lizzie assured him, but she didn't sound as confident as she normally would.
What if they just didn't go? What if the Toretto's stayed at their stupid car and the Bamboozlers stayed on their hill and nothing happened? Would the world itself bend over backwards to get them together? Would the next wildcard start picking them off one by one?
It wouldn't matter anyway. Joel would never just give up a win, and Gem couldn't resist getting a kill. They would come, and Jimmy and Lizzie would be the ones who paid for it.
Jimmy couldn't help but suggest, "Maybe we could hide? We could lie low until they kill each other from frustration."
"That wouldn't work." Lizzie always had to burst his bubble. She was as bad as Grian with spoiling his perfectly good plans sometimes.
"The Bam-bunker is pretty secure!" Jimmy pushed. "We could stay there, they'd never find us!"
Lizzie gave him a small chuckle. "If Etho can find us in there, Gem and Joel definitely can."
Jimmy sighed. "D'you reckon they're already in their way?"
"I would say, almost definitely."
Before Lizzie had finished speaking, the chat lit up:
Smallishbeans was slain by a skeleton
Lizzie gasped. "Joel!"
"Yes!" Jimmy crowed, leaping to his feet, all his previous doom and gloom forgotten. Joel was out.
"That still leaves Gem, though," Lizzie reminded him.
"We can take Gem! There's two of us, she can't fight off two of us!"
"She was fighting off five of us before she was even allowed to kill. Now-"
"She wasn't fighting." Jimmy wasn't used to being the voice of positivity when it came to a fight, especially against such an overpowered opponents, but he was riding the high of Joel's demise. "She was just running, then, so we couldn't reach her. She'll be trying to fight us, now, so she'll stay in reach."
"Yeah." Slowly, Lizzie started to smile as well. She joined him in standing. "Yeah! We got this!"
"We got this!" Jimmy echoed.
They're celebration was cut short by a voice from the stairs. "Oh, do you now?"
Gem.
They both stopped jumping around, freezing like a pair of deer in headlights.
"Was that just a normal skeleton?" Lizzie asked.
"Yes!" Gem threw her arms up (shield on one, sword clutched in the other) in exasperation. "A normal, natural spawning skeleton!"
Jimmy burst out laughing. "Ha! That's what you get for messing with us!"
"He didn't even mess with us, Jimmy," Lizzie sighed.
Gem started walking towards them, and both siblings put up their shields, instantly nervous. Without warning, Gem lurched towards Jimmy.
Jimmy shrieked, panicked, and ran. He could hear Gem's laughter as she chased him, Lizzie's shouts as she chased Gem. He tried to leap over a chest, hoping to duck behind the piled chests beside it to catch his breath, but his foot caught on lid, sending him crashing to the ground with a yelp.
Jimmy rolled over so he was on his back and hefted his shield up just as Gem descended on him.
"You're gonna die, Jimmy!" She was still laughing, grinning, breathless, her eyes alight with the thrill of the kill.
"No!" Jimmy gasps, waving his sword uselessly at her.
Gem lifted her sword, ready to plunge it into him, and-
Stiffened.
She looked down, her grin frozen on her face in shock. Jimmy followed her gaze to see the tip of a sword sticking out of her chest.
His eyes flicked over her shoulder to see Lizzie standing there, tears in her eyes, her hands shaking in the hilt of her sword.
"Don't touch him!" she ordered, though with the fear in her voice, it sounded more like begging than anything else.
"No, no," Gem whispered. "It can't end like this."
"Oh yes, it can," Jimmy told her.
Both women gasped as Lizzie yanked the sword out of Gem. Jimmy didn't have time to move before Gem landed on him.
He yelped and scrambled to the side, away from her.
"Jimmy!" Lizzie scolded, hurrying to his side.
She turned Gem over so she was lying on her back.
"I'm so sorry!" Lizzie told her.
Gem met her eyes, and died.
Just like that, they'd survived fighting the Torettos. Just like that, they were the last two.
"Jimmy, we did it!" Triumph was already tinging her voice, like that was it, like it was all over now.
"Well, you did it," Jimmy conceded, unable to feel the same victory as her.
There was still one enemy left.
With a heavy heart and trembling hands, he drew his sword.
Lizzie frowned as he stood up, following him. "Jimmy? What are you doing?"
"There can only be one winner." He didn't want to do it. Hell, he really wished there was any other way this could go. But there wasn't.
"Oh." Lizzie picked her sword - the blue stained red already - up off the ground. "So. How do you want to do this?"
"I guess we just... fight."
"I guess we do."
Neither of them wanted to make the first move. Neither wanted to attack the other player. Jimmy went first, swinging at her with a grunt.
Lizzie squealed and blocked with her shield, and the fight was on.
Surrounded on all sides by bamboo, on soil that they had tended themselves for weeks, months even, Jimmy and Lizzie fought.
Jimmy could see, he could see so clearly how it would go, how it had to go. But still, he fought. He fought to win. He fought to kill his own sister, just like she was fighting to kill him.
And then, as he backed away to try and preserve his final heart for one second more, his back hit a tree.
Time seemed to slow. Lizzie was staring at him through tear-filled eyes as she swung her sword for the final time.
It made a strange sort of sense, Jimmy thought, that this was the way it would go. She had broken his curse - she deserved this win. And yet, he couldn't help the grief for himself. He was so close, so so close, to a win, only to have it snatched at the last second.
He tried one final attack, his sword missing Lizzie by inches, before her sword reached his chest.
This was a sensation he was very familiar with. He'd always been good at dying, at living out his days to their end. He supposed he was lucky he'd had this many, this time around.
He watched from above, one of far many ghosts, as Lizzie fell to her knees beside Jimmy, hugging him tight to her chest.
For the first time, the Canary signaled not the start of the danger, but the end.
Shoulders heaving, Lizzie took her sword and shoved it through her own stomach, freeing herself from this prison.
The world breathed a sigh of relief as the killing stopped.
"Jimmy should die third"
"Jimmy needs to win this season"
No youre all wrong. He needs to get second place. Think about how funny that would be.
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nostarfights · 2 days ago
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Chapter One of Made Your Mark
Pairing: sugardaddy!rockstar!Eddie Munson X fem!reader
Summary: You and Eddie meet on the sugar daddy site recommended to you by Steve.
Word Count: 2.3K
Fic Masterlist
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As of today, it had been six months since you graduated from your university. Six months since your graduation where you were spoken to about new opportunities and where life can take you. Six months of companies not moving forward with you for the job you applied for, for the job you spent four years of your life getting your degree for. You’d spent four years trying to become an author and still no one wanted to hire you. Six months of working at some fancy restaurant near your apartment that barely paid you enough to get by in life.
To say you were frustrated and wanting to give up was an understatement, you were furious. But you promised yourself that you would keep trying and trying until you got the job you worked so hard for. Which you hoped would happen soon seeing as you were getting pretty tired of the rich people who talked down to you at the restaurant where you worked as a waitress. 
You were underpaid and just tired of it all, working there and trying to get the job you wanted was more exhausting than the four years of work you put in to actually get your degree. But you were still determined nevertheless.
You’d expected a restaurant like this in such a busy area of your city to be well paying, but it turns out a little above minimum wage and very small tips is what you get working there. So, on the side you wrote articles for small magazines during your free time, which turned out to be somewhat successful. But the most you’d ever earned on one of your articles was $400, which would have to do for now until you got the job you actually wanted, not needed. 
At the current moment, the time was 10:30pm on a Saturday and you had gotten home not long ago from another busy shift at the restaurant. You were tired and your body was sore, as if you had just gone on a four hour long hike. Your hair becoming a little messy as you got settled on your couch, the belt that was once in the loops on your black dress pants now resting on the floor next to your coffee table and the first few buttons of your shirt undone. You were just about to fall asleep here, your eyelids growing more and more heavy with each passing moment, when someone knocked on your door, causing you to perk up right away. 
Not feeling the need to ask who it was on your doorstep at this hour, you simply got up then unlocked and opened the front door to your apartment. Revealing your best friend, Steve to be standing there on the other side of the door.
He softly greeted you with a hug, making you smile into his chest. “Hey, how’ve you been?” he gently asked as he rubbed your back. “Hi, Stevie.” you quietly said while you hugged him back, making a smile of his own appear on his face. “I’ve been alright, just tired and frustrated. The usual.” you answer with a shrug, quickly closing the door behind him after you leave his arms. Your answer made him frown as the two of you walked over to your couch.
You and Steve had known each other since middle school and had been very close since then. You had truly been through it all together. He hated to see that his best friend was struggling even after all you had done to get what you wanted. 
That frown is still on Steve’s face as he started to speak again, “I understand. But I have to admit, I’m tired of seeing you like this, y’know, struggling. You don’t deserve to.” he said from his spot next to you on your couch. You let a sigh escape your lips, your shoulders dropping into a more relaxed position, “I know,” you said, pausing to take a deep breath, “but there’s not much I can do except keep sending out my manuscript to more publishers. Although I will admit I don’t have much hope, it’s just been six months of rejections from every publisher I’ve send it to. I hate that it’s this hard to be successful at the job I literally got my degree for but I guess all I can do is keep trying and working.” you told him, fully conveying your frustration and exhaustion to Steve again.
He nodded in response and gently placed his hand over yours, “I get it and I agree, you should keep trying. But until you do get an acceptance from a publisher, I do have a suggestion that could get you out of working that tiring waitress gig I know you hate.” he replied, making you chuckle a little while a smirk appeared on his lips. 
You jokingly rolled your eyes at him and began to rest your head on the couch, “Oh no, what is it this time?” you jokingly said, waiting to hear what Steve had to say, no longer surprised by his antics. He nodded in response then spoke once more, “Now this is just a suggestion, so just hear me out okay?” he said, earning a nod from you in response before he speaks again, “I think that you should check out this sugar daddy site I’ve used a few times called Classy. There’s a lot of rich lonely guys on there who will literally pay you just to hang out with them. It’s not as bad as you’d think it would be.” he explained, moving his hands around while he talked.
You had to admit, it’s a decent and possible solution to your problem. But you still felt a bit suspicious about it anyway. 
You opened your mouth to speak but Steve quickly interrupted before you could even get a word out, “I know what you’re going to say but, please, just think about it.” he said, making you roll your eyes again. “Steve, I appreciate the advice I do. But you know I want to be independent, I don’t know how to feel about the idea of relying on someone else for money. But I promise to think about it and that’s all you’re getting out of me, Stevie.” you replied, ending your statement with a laugh while you point at Steve. He laughs with you, “Fine, but I still think you should do it.” he said, his hands up in the air in surrender, causing the two of you to laugh a little.
As for the rest of the night, you and Steve sat on your couch and talked a bit more about all of the things that have been going on in your lives since you last spoke to each other.
You told him about how stressful work has been and the recent articles you’ve written. How your dating life has been non-existent with how busy you’ve been. Steve told you about how stressful his own job has been. As well as how nicely past arrangements with sugar daddies have gone for him and to be picky when picking one. 
A few hours later at about 2am, after talking for a while you and Steve said your goodbyes and he headed home, promising to tell you that he made it home safe when he got there. 
Once he had left, you began to get ready for bed while you thought about Steve’s suggestion. If you’re being honest with yourself, this whole sugar daddy thing did sound a bit appealing.
But it is something you wanted to think about and talk to Steve about more before you made a decision. You just wanted to make sure that the site is safe and that you wouldn’t be putting yourself into a dangerous situation. You also wanted to really think about whether or not you are really okay with having someone, a rich man specifically, help you out financially. You almost fell asleep that night thinking about it too, but you decided to let your mind rest for now. You’d call Steve in the morning–the beginning of your day off– and talk about it more then. 
—Time Skip: Two Days Later—
Two days have passed now since Steve had brought up the idea of getting a sugar daddy to you and after a lot of talking and thinking about it, you decided to give the site a chance. But if it ended up going badly for you, you’d never use it again. And as a safety precaution, you promised to send Steve the name, phone number and photo of the guy you end up deciding to meet up with.
Your profile on the site consisted of the basic things about you one might want to know, a few of your interests and a few photos of you to go along with it. Afterward, you began to scroll through the site and the profiles of the sugar daddies on there.
Meanwhile, as you were deciding whether to go through with signing up for this site or not, Eddie was sitting on his own couch in his own home. 
At this point in his life, Eddie was one month into his band, Corroded Coffin’s one year long break from making music and touring. When the band was active, he had been completely fine with living alone, he was too busy to even have the chance to feel lonely. But now that he had absolutely nothing to do but work on his solo music, that lonely feeling had easily creeped into his life. Now his home felt empty and cold instead of comforting and warm like it usually did when he was busy. Because of touring and making music, he used to rarely be here and now he’s here all the time.
He wanted someone to spend his newfound free time with, he wanted companionship. But it’s a bit difficult for him to find love on dating apps, all of his accounts end up getting taken down not long after he makes them because people think they’re someone pretending to be him. He can’t meet anyone by just going out anymore without getting swarmed by paparazzi and fans because of his fame. So, he decided to check out a sugar daddy site called ‘Classy’ that he’s seen ads for a few times. “Maybe it could be promising?" he thought.
Nevertheless, he decided to give it a shot and created an account on the site. Like you, on his profile he included some basic information about himself, some of his interests and a few photos of himself. His bio, which he quickly typed out without really thinking about it, simply said, “37, Just looking for someone to spend time with.” Then like you he began to scroll through the site and the profiles of the sugar babies on there. 
Ten minutes into your own scrolling, you stopped on Eddie’s profile–his beauty having caught your eye–and you clicked on it right away. After looking through his profile a bit, it seems like he would be a good match for you. He’s definitely not as demanding as the other men on there. So you messaged him. You knew who he was of course and while you are shocked to see him on the site, you didn't bring either of those things up in your message, assuming that he probably just wants to be treated like any other person.
The message you ended up sending to him after deleting and retyping it a few times said, “Hey, if you’re up for it, I’d be open to discussing an arrangement that would work best for us. :)” You then, with your heart still beating a little fast, hit send and closed the website on your phone for now. 
—————————
After a bit of scrolling, Eddie really hadn’t found anyone who matched what he was looking for. But he didn’t want to give up on this yet, so he headed over to the inbox part of the site and saw that nearly a hundred messages had already appeared even though his account had only existed for less than an hour. Most of these people didn’t really interest him, mostly because they seemed to only be interested in him because of his fame, not because they want the same thing as him.
Seeing this made him want to give up for now and he’s about to close the site, mentally planning on looking at it again later when he sees your name in his inbox and the preview of what you had sent to him. But before he had properly looked at the message you sent, he was immediately drawn to look at your profile first. Your profile picture alone had him entranced, you were just so beautiful and the bits of your personality that you included on your profile only made him more entranced with you. If that was even possible. 
He then read your message, the message making him smile to know that this woman he was so drawn to was interested in the same sort of arrangement as him. He messaged you back as soon as he finished reading your message, his fingers gliding across the keyboard on his phone, “Hi. Sounds like a plan! Meet me at The Rouge for dinner on Friday at 6pm so we can properly talk about how we both want this to work. See you then. ;)” Not long after he had sent this, you checked the site and saw this message waiting for you in your inbox, your cheeks blushing at the thought of a man as handsome as him being interested in you. 
You agreed to meeting up with him for dinner right away and he responded again quite quickly like you had, this time with his number so that the two of you wouldn’t have to keep in touch through the site. You then sent him a quick message saying hi and letting him know that it was you texting him, getting a response from him moments later that simply said, “Hi :)” back, causing you to smile softly to yourself.
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dood-itsradical · 3 days ago
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Cool? Cool.
Pairing: Jake Kim x GN!Reader
Summary: An awkward rendezvous with Big Deal's leader.
Genre/Trope: Friends to enemies to friends to more(?). Non established relationship. Can be viewed as platonic as well.
Warnings: Cussing, self/oc indulgence? (I mostly wrote this for myself), no use of Y/n, MIGHT be OOC Jake (judge them yourself, this my first time writing for Lookism).
A/N: It's been TWO YEARS since I post fanfics so I might be lil stiffy, bare with me chat. I DON'T do request btw!
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“Man, so what now? We just…went back to stop being allies?” You questioned bluntly.
It's been a few days since the Hunt for Gun event. Everything went back to how it was. Or some would say, for the better. You weren't exactly on any sides of the crew. Scratch that, you were one of the Workers. And to be fair, you sort of still carry that guilt. Like Samuel, you wanted- no, needed money. Again, scratch that, you aren't exactly like him, God bless. You just have responsibilities at home that need to be taken care of.
Because first of all, being a broke college student got you into this shit and you practically worked your ass for it. You just wanted to pay for your student loans, bills and groceries. Second of all, news flash, Korea ain't as great as influencers described them to be. When you first moved here, you were still expecting the struggles of the norm. Not fighting gangsters. Let alone joining one.
Thirdly, you know basic martial arts. You know what, fuck that. You're actually pretty decent at it. Sparring and training with these dudes around you, paid off. And through the journey you gained friendship, learning to understand different types of people. That includes multiple reality checks, unlocking new traumas as the list goes on. Part of you have thought of the alternatives and the what ifs. While the other half is actually grateful.
“It never has to be that way, you know?” Daniel replied, offering a soft smile.
You wanted to ask if the whole fighting and scheming thing is over, now that Charles Choi is gone. So is the matter of the Red Note. But you keep those questions to yourself, knowing it's far from done when Gun is still alive even if he's in juvie. Besides, he's not the only bad guy they need to watch out for.
You shrugged sheepishly, hands shoving into your pockets. “Right.” Your head turned to the ground for a bit. Daniel senses this and continues, “We're still friends, right?”
You looked up relieved by his words, “Of course. You're cool. You too, Jay.” You added. The blond gave you a big sincere smile as you bent down to pet the puppies. They equally ushered closer for attention. Your expression softened before exhaling.
“Hey.” You started, taking a second to collect your words. “You think Big Deal would diss the hell out of me if I go in their turf? I need to talk to Jake.”
Daniel shrugged back, giving his usual reassuring energy. “I don't think so, after everything. You want us to accompany you there?” You shake your head, mimicking his smile, “I'm good. Thanks though.”
It was by then you found yourself stepping in Big Deal’s street. You weren't a coward, but you still hold respect for each of Four Major Crews. If you are being honest, you didn't even belong here. You're just a person who was caught up with your own personal issues and was left with no options but to use physical violence for your own selfish gain. It wasn't selfish, you told yourself. You just have your own goal and achievement like everyone else.
You were immediately recognised and being semi interrogated by the other Big Deal members due to your sudden and random arrival. You kept your tone as calm as possible. Getting straight to the business and voila! There's Jake.
You muttered a thanks to Jerry before turning to your old friend. Ice breaking sucked, this everyone can relate. But man, you acted like an ex begging to get together with him again. “Sooo……”
You trailed awkwardly, eyes darting everywhere in the room except him. “Big Deal's boss doing paperworks, huh? Guess nobody escaping that.” You tried to humour him, to light up the mood, anything. And luckily, he stifled a chuckle. Or a subtle exhale, you counted it as that either way.
“Yeah, well, it's my responsibility now.” Jake replied, shifting in his chair while leaning back.
To put it simply, you and Jake aren't completely strangers. You two were somewhat colleagues, let's put it that way. You never dare ask about the friendship part. Are you two even friends? Buddies? Amigos?
I mean you're very much aware of Big Deal's history. Jake isn't so secretive, mind you. You've privately met Sinu himself before, good man. You're most definitely familiar with Samuel. And by God, you weren't very fond of him. But you didn't judge him either, and as mentioned, everyone here has a personal goal. You've managed to exchange conversation with him from time to time. If I may say so myself, a LOT. Boy, was he an interesting character.
When you first joined Workers, you were clueless. Eugene offered you good deals. Obviously you hesitated in the begining. You were no fool, you knew what you signed up for. Fortunately for you, you weren't involved too much. You did side jobs, mostly undercover. When Jake finds out, he confronts you. Which actually surprised you. You fought him. You fought everyone else while sticking to the white uniform. Although he can definitely tell you held back at that moment.
“No hard feelings, Jake.” You said back then before getting into stance. You took his hit many times, hardly using your full strength before discovering you were just buying him time to let others finish their business. And he didn't blame you either. He felt bad. Guilty even, that he couldn't offer you better hospitality, better support. And yes, he admits that he was kinda cold back then. He never gets the chance to apologize. But he does now as you basically presence yourself to him.
“You aight? You know, after all the…” You trailed, subtly recalling the recent fiasco. He blinked before nodding, “Just peachy. You?” You nodded back. “Yeah.”
As if it couldn't get any awkward, you were starting to regret showing your face here. On top of that, he wasn't any near being his suave self. He had it fine with the others but with you? There's an unfinished business. He thought it's odd. It's exactly the same scenario that happened between him and Samuel, yet the tension wasn't supposed to be this palpable as far as he know.
“I'm sorry-” You both said in sync, now looking at each other weirdly. Chuckling nervously, you both did it again, “You first. No, you. Not me, you. Fuck.”
Sighing, you both let out small genuine laughters. “No, seriously. You first.” he offered.
You nodded, “No hard feelings, right?”
He smiled, “No hard feelings. It's good to see you again.” You returned the smile, the burden finally left your shoulders. “Same here. You didn't break a bone. I'm not surprised.”
He leaned forward, folding his arms on the desk. His arms bulging through the fabric doesn't go unnoticed. “Well, colour me surprised. You didn't either.” He joked back. His mood has lifted as did yours. You rolled your shoulders, pretending to flex slightly. “I tried.”
“Say,” Your expression turned slightly serious, still with a bit of amusement in your tone. “I guess I owe you a jack of explanation, huh?”
He tilted his head, “Oh? Do you, now? Lemme check.” He pretended to go through his paperworks. You just chuckled, shaking your head at his sense of humour. “Asshole. I'm serious.”
Jake faced you again, “I know. And I'm listening. We can get food while we're at it.”
“Let me guess, my treat?” You raised a brow.
He gets off from his seat, his duty now left abandoned. “C’mon, I'm not a monster.” Slinging his arm around your shoulder as he leads you to the exit.
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anticidic · 2 days ago
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Can I ask from this ask game for Soukoku (all of the questions)? Thanks 🧁
https://www.tumblr.com/comingfromastatechampionasshole/119898100247?source=share
hi anon!! this looked fun, so I decided to do it 😊
1. Which one is the better cook
Chuuya. Dazai wouldn't know good eats even if it hit him upside the head. Dazai would try to cook, but he set off the smoke alarm not just once, but twice, and the last time he burnt their food beyond edible. I think Dazai would still try to hone his skills when Chuuya wasn't around.
2. What their love letters look like
Lowkey, I think Dazai would send a fake letter and then a really passionate letter full of him waxing poetic. The man gets caught up in his head too much and for too long, and it'd show in his writing where he fails to voice how he feels. You feel like you're reading someone's diary. The fake letter is to irritate Chuuya and pretend like he doesn't care about sappy love letters.
Chuuya, I think would be more straightforward and just say like, he went to the park and crossed over a bridge and it reminded him of the time they were there at night together looking up at the stars.
3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope
I feel like Dazai would outlive Chuuya? It doesn't even have to be tragic, but taking elements from his canon self, I feel like after finding the one and settling down, he'd dread dying and his inner resolve would keep him alive.
He'd look like he was coping extremely well, or look completely unfazed by Chuuya's passing—the jokes go on, he continues annoying those around him. But then he goes home, it's just him and the four walls and a bed too big for just him, and it's cold. He talks to himself into the late hours nursing multiple glasses of alcohol and it goes on like that until dawn. He's avoidant of anything that reminds him of Chuuya at first because he stuffs every damn emotion down instead of letting them out, and he can feel that tiny crack going down the length of his face and splitting him open day-by-day.
Then, he's getting ready for another day and he goes into their closet that's now become entirely his, and he reaches for gloves because it's below freezing, and he accidentally grabs Chuuya's. The tears come because it's the final straw. And they don't stop.
But also taking parts of canon into consideration, I feel like Chuuya would have a shorter lifespan because of eventual corruption side effects catching up to him as he got older.
4. What they do on date night
Dazai would like doing something cozy, like ordering food and a movie in, but he gets roped into nights out at luxury restaurants, or to take a walk around a temple because Chuuya insists he needs fresh air.
5. How many kids they'll have
I can see them having two 👀 Dazai's the one really wanting the second
6. How they decorated their bedroom
Dazai's very minimalistic. Maybe a framed photo or two, a little lamp on the nightstand, and books he cycles through. Probably has a mini pile of clothes by the foot of the bed because he was late to work that morning. Chuuya wouldn't be as minimalistic, but you could tell he put thought and care into the decorations and how high quality the things he has are. A shoe rack for all his shoes to neatly line up on. A standing mirror by the dresser. Framed artworks hung up on the walls. A large bed with a lot of pillows and the bedding high quality.
7. Which one is the worse driver
Dazai, no contest. Chuuya will force Dazai out of the driver's seat if he has to.
8. What they argue about
Really stupid things. Like, Dazai not restocking the toilet paper. Chuuya forgetting to put his phone on silent when it rings on the nightstand at five am. Chuuya losing his mind over the fact his pack of cigarettes is slowly going down and he doesn't remember smoking so much, but it's really Dazai stealing them.
9. Which one swears more
Chuuya swears more out loud, but Dazai either swears in his head or to himself. Dazai will be sipping coffee at the table when he suddenly hears a loud, "Fuuuuuuck!" down the hall, and he goes to see what's up. But it's just Chuuya crumpled to the floor rubbing his foot because he stubbed his toe on the door. Then Dazai walks away.
Dazai will joke that Chuuya needs to wash his mouth out with soap, but he doesn't actually care that Chuuya swears.
10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other
I think they'd be really into watching gritty shows or shows that have heists as a theme? The action would reel them in. But separately, I can see Dazai being into dumb reality shows because he "likes to make fun of how stupid people are" but he's really into them, and Chuuya likes cooking shows or animal documentaries.
11. What their first impression was of each other
Chuuya thought Dazai was a fucking idiot and actually couldn't stand him. (Rightfully so) And Dazai made it his mission to get under Chuuya's skin, and now whoops, look how they got here. A very push-pull relationship.
12. What they do for their anniversary
Dazai downplays it and acts cool when he casually suggests they go away to another part of Japan or they go down to Odaiba at night to walk along the pier and then dine by the water. He also got them a nice hotel room so it can just be them. Chuuya wasn't even really sure what to do, he was just gonna get a gift and take Dazai out.
13. Which makes a bigger deal of birthdays
I think Dazai would make a big deal about Chuuya's birthday, but not care about his own. Chuuya would dislike being reminded he's not only the older of the two of them, but he's getting older faster than he recalls the days going by like seconds. Dazai will joke about it, too, but he sprinkles in niceties like getting Chuuya a new pair of gloves.
14. What nicknames they call each other
I can't see them calling each other couple names honestly—I think they'd eventually come up with something only they understand/something stupid for one another. (I will say, Dazai thought he was hallucinating the first time Chuuya called him Osamu instead of Dazai, though.)
15. What they would change about each other
Chuuya would change Dazai's terrible habit of leaving messes everywhere, and Dazai would change how Chuuya hogs the bed and snores like a roaring machine.
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mishietishie · 6 hours ago
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行かないでくれ。Please, don't go.
Trueform!Ryomen Sukuna x elder!Reader
Tags: Angst with no comfort, ooc Sukuna, Sukuna calls reader 'wife' so fem-alligned!reader ig?, dementia and death
A/N: So like I had a depressive episode and now I want you all to suffer
.
.
.
It was a quiet summer afternoon. You were perched under your favorite sakura blossom tree. Your husband, Ryomen, was sat right next to you, his four eyes closed and your hands in his, fingers intertwining.
You had just scattered some seeds on the ground for the ducks to eat. Now you were looking as they pecked on them, a smile on your wrinkled face. You could hear a huff next to you, and when you turned to look at your husband, you were met with his crimson gaze on you, a half smirk on his face.
"You should stop feeding them. They're fat enough as is."
You rolled your eyes at that, leaning your head against his broad, tattooed shoulder. Your boney thumb caressed the back of his hand out of habit.
"You always say that. They're not even fat."
Ryomen let out a 'tsk', one of four his hands coming to rest at your head against his shoulder, caressing your soft, grey locks
"Yes they are, wife."
It was a routine the two of you have established, you would always be sitting under the same sakura blossom and converse while you fed the ducks. One day, you were both sat under it again. But this time, you didn't scatter seeds like you usually did. Ryomen hummed, brushing your silver locks through his fingers.
"Hmph, finally decided they were fat enough, haven't you, wife?"
You looked around a bit before looking up at your husband, as if making sure he was talking to you despite the fact you were alone.
"Ducks? What ducks? I don't see any."
The salmon haired curse looked down at you with a raised brow, clicking his tongue before replying with a grumble in his voice
"The ducks you feed everyday, obviously. Don't play games with me, woman"
That just seemed to confuse you even more. You don't exactly recall feeding any ducks.
"Ryomen, I think you hit your head, I never fed any ducks."
Your husband had to hold back a remark. It was strange that you forgot something you do daily. But he could sense you weren't lying, so how was it possible? Unless..
The King of Curses cleared his throat, gently rubbing your side with another arm
"It's getting late, let's go inside, wife. Uraume made your favorite."
Your eyes brightened a little at the mention of your favorite food. A smile spread over your wrinkled lips. Your frail, boney arms went to use Ryomen as your support, your legs shaking as you slowly got up. Once you did, your husband handed you your cane and supported your back with hand, stabelizing you.
After a delicious lunch with your husband, you were sat on the bed. Your eyes gazed through the room, as if in a trance. When Ryomen entered the room, he noticed you mindlessly gazing. He sat next to you on the bed, looking down at you.
"Ryomen, where am I?"
When that question left your lips, The Cursed King's eyes widened slightly. Forgetting a part of your daily routine is one thing. But forgetting where you are is something he wasn't hoping for. He let out a sigh, placing his hand over yours
"You're home, wife. In our bedroom."
Your mouth went into an 'o' shape, realizing slowly where you were
"Oh, what was I going to do?"
Ryomen breathed out through his nose in slight irritation. Not because of your question, but because of the reason why you were asking those questions.
"You were.. about to take a nap, wife."
His arms went to slowly lift your legs up once he said that, draping the covers over your wrinkly, old body. Once you were properly tucked in, he pressed his lips against your forehead, kissing it softly.
"Rest well, wife."
He mumbled before slipping under the covers next to you, holding your body close to his with a gentleness that he had achieved over the years of being married to you.
.
.
Day by day, your forgetfulness had gotten worse. During breakfast, you didn't recognize his loyal servant and cook, Uraume. When he brought you to the koi pond you loved so much, you didn't look at it with the same fondness as before.
Despite Ryomen's distaste for humans, except you, he had brought you to a doctor, who said you had an 'umbrella disease' called dementia. Which made you forget little and big things from your daily life. When Ryomen asked if there was any cure, the doctor shook his head. It made your husband's non-existent heart drop, the bit of hope he had for his wife to be 'cured' was gone.
But he stood strong.
Everyday, he would do small activities with you, like going on a picnic date. Not just for your joy and happiness, but also for the small thread of hope he had that maybe you'll remember some things from the past, like the outings to festivals you two always had.
But alas, just as the doctor said, much to his dismay, you never could remember. You just kept forgetting, and forgetting. It was a part of the life of a mortal.
One quiet evening, you were sat on your favorite reading chair next to the fireplace, reading a book. Atleast you didn't forget that, Ryomen thought, who was sat on his own chair next to you. Your hands were held together, fingers intertwined. At a certain moment, the silence was interrupted by your voice, whispering softly.
"Ryomen.."
The pink-haired curse looked to the side. Your book was shut closed on your lap, and you were staring at the fireplace. His brows furrowed as he went to kneel infront of you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand
"Yes, wife? What is the matter?"
You breathed in deeply, your eyelids heavy and your lips quivering ever so slightly as you breathed back out
"I love you.."
It was at that moment that The King of Curses realized that your cursed energy had faded away, like sand escaping through his fingers. He couldn't feel your heart beating, and he couldn't feel your warmth anymore.
.
.
.
You had left him.
And he couldn't even tell you he loved you back.
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