#this raised a really interesting thought to me but do we know how old the kids were when logan and caroline divorced?

[dellamortethelesser]

The Wigmaker Job

Notes and Thoughts - Part 1

This quickly grew out of hand so this is only covering the first scene lol. This is my attempt to organize my thoughts nearly line-by-line as I go through and analyze the relationship between Lucanis and Illario. These are my personal opinions and I'm open to discussion about any points I present here.

From the first time we are introduced to Illario from Lucanis's perspective, it is… almost derogatory? (dressed how an Antivan would think a Vint would dress). i thought you trusted him to handle this job at a party?

"it's a job" / "a party at a job" / "any excuse to primp" ← This back and forth feels natural between siblings (or those who have a sibling relationship) but with wider context feels… a little icky

Already, Illario is disparaging himself in relation to Lucanis ("Only 'the Great Lucanis Dellamorte' could refuse a summons from the First Talon") and even he says he's only here because Lucanis asked him to be. why bring him if you ostensibly don't trust him to handle the job? Lucanis's inner pov is different from how he speaks to and acts with Illario.

of course Illario is generally thick-skinned until it comes to Caterina. so are you. she's abused you both and treats Illario undoubtedly worse because he's not the favorite.

re: Caterina's abuse as listed. no food or water. beat them with her cane until their backs were scarred for 'letting their guard down' or 'fumbling footwork'. Lucanis says she "beat into him his commitment to his contracts" (re: veilguard banter where he didn't kill that 14 year old. lying? or proof of further favoritism?)

"For years, he'd hated her…" and then goes on to say that he'd learned that her cruelty was her way of ensuring their survival. Notably this isn't forgiveness but an acknowledgment of what she'd done and how it benefited them as assassins, which I would argue that it did. Child abuse is bad but I think she did prepare them both for the world they were being raised into as assassins.

"Beneath the bitterness in Illario's tone was something rotten." ← KEY LINE TO ME. Why point out how rotten it is unless he… already suspected Illario's resentment? Jealousy? He can identify the bitterness bc Caterina won't step aside, but also. ROTTEN.

"your time will come" / "will it?" ← Lucanis watching Illario watch him in the mirror. Really interesting moment because this is where Illario reminds him that Lucanis is the favorite. Lucanis goes on to say that he KNOWS this and has HEARD the rumors and still tries to assure Illario that his time would come.

"So, if she named you heir to House Dellamorte, you'd refuse?" ← really interesting thing to note here is that Illario is asking about being named as HEIR. Lucanis doesn't answer, they're interrupted, but "heir" doesn't hold the same weight as 'first talon".

they're not arguing who gets the role, they're arguing over who is even in line for it? so you mean to tell me that Caterina has been stringing them along like this… the whole time? Just name a fucking heir for fucks sake. the older one at least! if this was set up from childhood there would be way less room for jealousy and competition, or it would at least be clear WHO would be in line.. that being said I do believe she either did this on purpose. There's just no other excuse. Caterina what if you died the next day. they'd still have to fucking fight it out! (or maybe Lucanis would finally feel brave enough to absolve himself).

maybe that's it though? it's a test right? this whole fucking thing…. man.

"Illario's pretty-boy mask slipped as a coldness flooded his features." ← would have loved to see more of this in Veilguard. Regardless of whether you think Illario's writing is consistent between the books and the game, you're kidding yourself if you tell me he wasn't written operatically obvious in Veilguard. here there is more of a level of calculation and concealment? unless you want me to believe that his behavior was obvious to everyone except Lucanis… not discounting that reading of their relationship, just disagreeing with it personally.

Skipping ahead in to the fight scene, we see that Lucanis is living up to his name as the Mage-Killer as he pretty handily dispatches their assailant. Illario takes on more of the charmer role, tying up the mage—but then Lucanis immediately kills him. Why even let Illario do all of that work if you're just going to kill him?!

He even comments on it. "If I'd known you were just going to kill him, I wouldn't've put so much effort into the knots." ← Lucanis tells him after this to check his pockets and finds a note that does, admittedly, reveal the Venatori allegiance. That being said… you still could've killed him and got the same note. Unless it was just because he was a mage? But he was already dazed at that point. Why waste the time?! It's so maddening. This is the first of many instances where Lucanis sort of… bulldozes over Illario.

As Lucanis is removing the blade—"Careful, remember the tanner job? You ruined my best shirt." Kind of prissy behavior (Illario takes two steps back away from the blood), but when his cousin protests, Lucanis just… smirks and continues to extract the blade. If I'm reading this generously it could be simple sibling-esque banter, but Lucanis is not the sort to be readily endearing himself to Illario at any point.

Illario remarks that the Venatori's fanaticism re: nationalism and theology regarding the Black City isn't "worth it" (so he doesn't like the Venatori much either, mark that down?).

Lucanis says that it's because Illario isn't "a true believer—except when it comes to coin". My first thought is to think of Zara Renata's corpse conversation in Veilguard when she remarks that what Illario wanted, he wanted more than power, family, coin, etc etc.

So Lucanis's perception is that Illario is the sort of man who'd do anything for money (as the House of Crows is KNOWN TO DO, YOU KILL PEOPLE. FOR MONEY), and it matches up with his opinions previously established in regards to Illario's dress, motivations, mannerisms, etc. That Illario is… kind of a pretty-boy charmer who is only worried about coin and good clothes.

Hm. All bodes well on the Cain & Abel front.

RE: the true believer statement. Worth pointing out that the House of Crows was first established by Andrastian monks in the hills outside of Treviso; they assassinated a duke. Would love to have learned more as to whether there was more religious influences in the guild at any point.

Quotes are either paraphrased or taken directly from The Wigmaker Job, written by Courtney Woods.

[on-the-clear-blue]

So yall know that the League of Assassin's are like, an eco terrorist thing right? Well I just had this idea.

Sam, coming into Danny's room and just face planting on his bed: Ugh...

Danny, who was sleeping, awoken as his friend who had gone missing 6 moths ago flopped onto of him: OH SWEET-NOCTURN IF THIS ISNT REAL I AM GONING TO SOUP YOY SO HARD...

Sam, reaching up and slapping her hand on his mouth:Shhh, less screaming, more sleeping, escaping murder cults takes more energy than I thought.

Sam produces to pass out and sleep for three days straight.

---

Tucker, lookingnup from his PDA: so...you joined what you thought was a peaceful protest and some how ended up in a eco terrorist death cult of assassins? I mean...shit now I have to do something interesting...

Danny, choking on his drink: Nuh uh, your the normal one Tuck, I died and now have a magical girl transformation and Sam got kidnapped by ninjas and somehow even more bad ass, you...you can still get out of this and just be a normal person.

Sam, nodding sadly: Yeah...don't conform to our standards Tucker, be your true, weak little boney self.

Tucker, sniffing:I am so going to not do that.

---

Just the idea that Sam not only got League training but also got out is hilarious to me, like yeah, that is the kinda bs that would happen.

Alsoni can just see her dropping random lore shit.

Sam, bored as the boys study: Did you know thst the Demon Head dunks himself in corrupted ecto? Yeah it's gnarly man, didn't taste good.

Danny, going to speak before pausing and thinking, before sighing:Yeah I would have licked it too.

Tucker, frowning as he finishes his "Evil invention-enator": You both have so many issues.

---

Sam, trying to teach Danny the basic league hand to hand:Come on dude! It's not that hard!

Danny, falling flat on his ass after not even touching Sam: Ow ow ow...fuck yeah it kinda is!

Sam, rolling her eyes: If not only the Demon Heads six year old grandson can learn but also Ellie? You can too.

Danny, mutterinf under his breath before pausing completely:ELLIE? What was she doing with a murder cult? I thought she learnt her lesson after the last one!

Sam, shrugging before putting kicking at Danny on the floor: I don't know she was following a guy around who was catatonic, said something about being angry at him for not answering her pen pal messages or whatever, I was more busy training to really care...like you should be doing!

---

Years later Sam is joining Danny and Tucker in Gotham, Tucker because he was scouted by both WE and Lexcorp, he wanted to choose the evil company because poorer work place regulations and the likely hood of him getting a powerbost was much higher, but was bullied by his friends/partners into choosing WE.

Sam, coming to the R&D labs late one night bringing Tucker dinner so he doesn't starve working a late shift, blinking as she sees a short boy sneaking out of the lab: Biraeam? (Sprout in Arabic) what are you doing here.

Damian, blinking right back, experimental tech Bruce has yet to clear for the field clutched under one arm and the blueprints for a new type of explosive batarang in the other: Manson...I-I could ask you the same.

Sam, raising an eyebrow and staring down Damian: bringing dinner to my husband...who works here...and I can only think that you do not. So I ask that you put those things you have down and tell your bastard of a grandfather not to step back in this place.

Damian, eyes squinting, he hadn't been around his grandfather for ages at this point but still felt offended at her tone: I don't think I will.

---

An epic fight produces where they both try not and spill/destroy the things that they are carrying until either Tucker or Tim find them and explain everything.

The everlasting Trio gets invited over for dinner (mostly because Bruce is a paranoid bastard and dislikes thst one of his employees is dateing/ is partners with an ex-LoA member) and it's a bit of just pointing at each other and shit

Sam, slamming her hands down on the table as she stands: Kindly Mr Wanye, Shut the fuck up, I know your batman, we all fucking know it so if you are going to try and interrogate us at least do it properly!

Danny, sipping his wine: I mean...I-I didn't know but I um...haven't been paying much attention to the bat dude...Rag man is cooler.

Sam, glaring:And you! Fucking Ragman? You can do so much better.

Danny, offended for his hero: Oi! He does good work!

Bruce, frowning as this night has gotten away from him: He kills people.

Sam, waving over at Bruce: Exactly!

Danny, rolling his eyes: Exactly she says, while having a kill count that's still growing, Exactly she says when she was the one that pushed that oil tycoon off the 50th floor.

Sam wincing,: Maybe not in front of batman babe?

Danny, looking over to Bruce that is looking ready to fight: Shit...imma call Tuck and tell him to start packing...

[notjustjavierpena]

Parents

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Merry belated Christmas from me! I know this is my second Christmas fic this time around but I finally got the courage to write about Wife’s awful parents. 

Summary: Javier puts his foot down during Christmas with your toxic family. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Toxic family dynamics, psychological abuse, childhood trauma, Christmas, conflict and confrontation, sobbing, declarations of love, hurt/comfort, body/fat shaming

Word count: 5.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61942318

Parents

You get a call from your parents’ home number a few weeks before Christmas. Your mother and father haven't actually bothered seeing you since your wedding day last year but Lucas is four months old now and there’s suddenly a strange interest from them in being grandparents to your firstborn. Somehow, they talk you into spending Christmas with them and reassure you that they’ll take care of everything as long as you bring their grandson. The whole idea causes a ball of anxiety to settle in your stomach, almost imitating getting hit right in the solar plexus with how much your breath struggles to even out as you tell Javier about it. Your husband agrees reluctantly but not without raising a concerned brow, asking you several times - and with days between each time - if you are absolutely sure. 

He even asks you now as he parks the car in your parents’ driveway, looking at you with a serious expression, brows furrowed while you sit stiffly in the passenger seat. You glance towards the front door, trying to act casual as if you’re staring at a wild animal who might pounce if it notices your anxiety. It is an odd feeling you get, staring at your childhood home but feeling more as if it is the scene of a crime. This house is not a memory of warm and fuzzy feelings but rather a place of constant criticism and unjust pain. 

Javier says your name softly beside you. On the backseat, Lucas hiccups.

“Do I look okay?” You quickly ask instead of acknowledging the tone of his voice, fixing your hair without changing anything. 

“Yeah,” he answers and tries not to comment on your nerves, “You look beautiful, mi amor (my love).”

The call from two weeks ago had your shoulders tensing up before you even answered the phone but the way they had reasoned you into revisiting the place of your hardest years has made your shoulders not come down again. 

You sigh gently and unbuckle your seatbelt, “Okay. I can do this for just an afternoon. Let’s get this over with.”

You climb out of the car, Javier following you after carefully unbuckling Lucas and cradling him in one arm while balancing the diaper bag on the other shoulder. You leave his car seat, knowing how much easier it would have been to transport your son inside in it but Lucas has been fussy all night. You really wish he hadn’t because you don’t want to go inside with only half the energy that a good night’s sleep could have provided. 

As you ring the doorbell, you take a look at Javier one last time, “Please don’t interfere. I don’t want to make everyone uncomfortable.”

“Baby, are you sure that—“

“Oh, there you are!” Your mother exclaims when she opens the door with a syrupy smile, “We were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”

“Sorry. Life with a baby and all,” you shake your head with an embarrassed chuckle and try to ignore the tension in your muscles, shrugging your coat off your shoulders to reveal your wine-red button-up and dark skirt. 

“Honey, I thought you knew we always dress up a little during the Holidays,” your mother says while glancing at your outfit with veiled disdain, “Where’s that nice blue dress? With the ribbons?”

“This is all that fits me right now, that isn’t maternity clothes,” you answer apologetically at the first jab of many. Beside you, Javier takes a step closer to you without saying anything. 

“Anyway! Where’s the little man?” Your mother chirps, already having moved on and looking to Lucas who has started stirring in Javier’s arms. When she gets closer, about to reach out to run a hand over his little head, Lucas immediately starts whimpering as if he is aware of the unpleasantries that his mother has had to endure at the mercy of this woman. He knows the culprits before they’ve even revealed themselves. 

“Oh, he’s a little fussy, isn’t he?” She laughs it off and retreats much to your relief, letting Javier bounce your son to make him settle down again. When he quietens down again, you share a glance with your husband who signals that everything is okay. You take a deep breath and let him handle the situation. 

“Where’s Dad?” You ask to turn your attention away from your crying child, smoothing out a nonexistent crease in your skirt. 

“I think he’s just about to get the turkey out of the oven,” your mother says, wagging a finger in Lucas’ face with a little smile, “Why don’t you go say hi and I talk to my grandson for a moment? Oh, look at you, Lucas! You’re just perfect, aren’t you?”

You reluctantly leave the three of them to head for the kitchen. You can feel each family photograph staring back at you as you walk through the hallway to your destination; a picture of your five-year-old self on a bike but somehow no picture of your graduation ceremony as if it has been decided where things went wrong before you could acknowledge it yourself. 

“Hey Dad, smells so good in here,” the kitchen does indeed smell wonderfully as you walk through the door. Your father looks at you over his shoulder, giving you a little smile and you try not to think about how he didn’t bother to come out to greet you. 

“Mom and I were wondering if you were ever coming,” he notes while plating pieces of turkey meat. In the hallway, you can hear Javier striking up polite conversation. He’s handling your mother with his usual calmness, and you feel grateful for his presence yet embarrassed that you aren’t strong enough to handle it yourself.

You shrug a little, Javier’s presence giving you the courage to try and mirror said calmness, “Newborns, you know.”

“He’s four months,” he corrects. 

“Right, time flies,” you reply with your confidence fading fast, the words coming out in a way that doesn’t quite carry the quick wit that Javier usually loves about you. You touch your arm, standing awkwardly by the counter, “Still figuring it out as we go.”

Your father doesn’t turn around, “Parenting’s not rocket science, you know. Your mother and I managed just fine without all the made-up nonsense you young people talk about these days.”

You jump a little as your mother puts a hand on your shoulder and says your name to get your attention. You look back at her, “Can you set the table? I put the tablecloth ready on the silverware cabinet.”

“Sure, Mom,” you smile, already heading for the dining room to escape from your father’s subtle judgments. You find Javier has already gone, an irrational thought popping into your head of how he has bolted and left you to deal with your mom and dad by yourself. 

You glance into the kitchen as you start placing the plates in each of their respective places, “Where’s Javier?”

“He went to get the presents from the car,” your mother replies from the kitchen. You hear her take out a serving bowl from a cabinet. 

“Oh, I should go help him wi—“ 

“He’s your husband, sweetie. Let him handle it. There’s no need to emasculate him like that,” she is suddenly in the doorway, staring you down in a way that makes your hands shake. Her gaze drops to the table and her brows furrow, “You’re using the wrong plates!”

You look up with a racing heartbeat, “What?”

She sighs your name audibly, “These aren’t the Christmas plates. We don’t use regular plates for special occasions. Honestly, I thought you’d know better.”

The words sting and you set down the plates you have been holding in case the littlest twitch will make you drop it onto the floor, “Sorry, Mom.” 

“Ah well, now you’ll never forget it,” she jokes without humor in her voice as she opens the door to the china cabinet, pulling out the plates adorned with what you recognize to be hand-painted holly. You shamefully realize you know them from childhood Christmases and that they are exactly where they’ve always been. 

Automatically, you gather the wrong plates to make room for the right ones. It’s Christmas, you remind yourself as you do it. It is one day. You can survive one day. 

“See? Isn’t this much better?” She says cheerfully when your mistake has been corrected and while you nod, Javier reenters the house. 

He joins the two of you, carrying a large gift bag in one hand and holding Lucas on the other arm. You immediately go to take him, doing a careful transfer until you can lay his tiny body against your shoulder while supporting his bottom. 

“¿Todo bien? (Everything okay?)” Javier asks quietly when you follow him into the living room where the tree stands. He sets down the bag and tries to act casual, laying out the gifts and waiting for your honest response in the meantime. Apparently, you haven’t been as successful in hiding the distress on your face as you thought you had. 

You force a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and Lucas starts whining again. You bounce him gently, “It’s nothing. Just… Christmas stuff.”

Javier glances toward the hallway to the kitchen where your parents’ voices can be heard faintly over the sounds of cooking. His jaw tightens slightly and his mouth becomes a thin line. 

“Don’t,” you say as firmly as you can muster because you wish he would, “It’ll only make it worse.”

“Dame un beso (give me a kiss),” he says instead, and you shyly lean in to peck him on the lips. Afterward, he pulls back but only after stroking Lucas’ back, “You’re both doing great, okay? Don’t let them get in your head.”

You are interrupted by your mother’s voice ringing out from the dining room, telling you that dinner is ready. Javier kisses you one last time before reassuring you that everything will be okay and that he is in your corner. You try to smile, tense as you take a seat with Lucas still in your arms. 

The Christmas meal begins with polite conversation, your father asking Javier about work and your mother telling you about neighbors that you haven’t spoken to in years. You mostly just speak when spoken to, having decided to focus on your baby as he keeps wriggling in your arms in discomfort. You try to rub his belly, try to make him settle by giving him your attention but still, his tiny face crumbles and he lets out a string of small complaints. 

“Maybe we could open presents while he naps?” You suggest hesitantly when your mother has given you enough judgemental advice, “He’s been so fussy all night, and I don’t want him to get more overwhelmed than he—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” your mother says your name with a sigh. You hear Javier’s chair scrape against the floor, almost as if he is about to get up and get ready for a physical altercation.

“Let’s do whatever is easiest for the baby,” your father interrupts, placing a hand on your mother’s wrist. Her annoyance shines through her eyes but she nods with a smile nonetheless. 

“Of course,” you hear her grit out, “It’s just… We’d love to spend time with him. We’ve already missed so much, and Luke needs his grandparents.”

“We’ll see,” Javier answers for you. 

The dinner continues in mostly silence with turkey being substituted by pie, cutlery clinking against plates, and glasses being lifted and set down again. There’s tension so thick that it can be cut with a knife, your mother glancing at Lucas with a smile before it disappears from her face when she shifts her gaze to your direction.  

Mercilessly, she finally speaks, “So, honey, have you thought about when you’ll start losing the baby weight?”

“Mom!” You exclaim in shock, surprised that sound comes out when your throat feels like it is about to close up completely.

In the same manner as one would spit out a drink in shock, Javier’s fork scrapes unpleasantly against his plate, and suddenly, your mother’s name falls from his lips like the sound itself leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth. She looks startled by the interruption, almost like a deer in the headlights of a car, but it doesn’t faze your husband, “My wife looks beautiful and she has just given me - us - the greatest gift which is our son. Let’s not diminish that, shall we?”

You try to feel the weight of Lucas against your chest instead of how you don’t feel safe within this house, with its bruises on the walls and its ghosts of a youth spent walking on eggshells. Lucas’ body is warm, a reminder that this doesn’t matter. He matters. 

“I’m focused on taking care of my son right now, Mom,” you reply coolly with your lips resting on the soft hairs on Lucas’ head. 

“Right, of course. I didn’t mean anything by it,” your mother argues, clearly flustered, “You know how important it is to stay healthy for the baby.”

“Your mother just wants what’s best for you, honey,” your father intervenes, trying to steer the conversation onto friendlier and safer topics but she has already gotten up from her seat. 

“Why don’t I clear the table so we can move into the living room and open presents?” She mumbles, putting on a show by letting her voice waver. She has begun stacking plates before anyone can even say anything, practically fleeing the room and leaving you all looking slightly sheepish. Javier hides the roll of his eyes exceptionally well and he smiles when you catch him.

“I’ll put Lucas down for a nap,” you announce to what is left of the party.

Javier gets up alongside you to help you. He walks upstairs right behind you, a calming presence with the diaper bag in hand as you head for the guest room.

When you close the door behind the three of you, the tension seeps out of your body at having a quiet moment with your boys. The lighting in the room is soft and calming, almost making you want to lie down to nap with your son. 

“There we go,” you say as you gently place Lucas on the bed while Javier rummages through the bag for his pacifier. Lucas blinks up at you, his tiny fists balled and his chubby legs kicking excitedly. He lets out a happy gurgle.

“Oh, now you’re happy,” you tease softly and kneel by the bed to rub his tummy, “Picky with who we’re smiling at, are we?” 

Javier joins you by the bed and offers Lucas his pacifier. Your son stretches his arms and reaches for his father, letting out a high-pitched giggle around the pacifier. However, as he suckles gently, accompanied by your soft touch that has now moved to his chubby cheeks too, his eyelids start to grow heavy. 

When his breaths have slowed, you do whatever you can with the pillows to create a safe space for him to sleep. You create a barrier around him, ensuring as well as possible that he won’t roll over. 

“You know, you’d think that they would have set up a crib for him if they’re so desperate to see him,” you murmur bitterly as you adjust the last pillow.

“You sure you want to go back down there?” Javier asks carefully. 

“Can you grab the baby monitor?” You ignore his question at first but Javier is already handing you the monitor, ruining your attempt at not addressing the situation further. You sigh and get up from the floor, “I can get through it. If it’ll make them stop pestering me for a visit for a while.”

“I swear, one more word out of her mouth and I’ll open my own,” Javier says with anger simmering just beneath the surface. He drags you into his arms when you stand up again, hears your sigh of relief at being squeezed. It calms your nervous system so effectively that you slump. 

“Believe me, I feel like I am going insane,” you whisper into his neck and shoulder, grabbing aimlessly at his strong frame and inhaling his scent. He returns the desperate touch by simply rubbing your back in slow circles. 

“Yeah, I don’t know how you stay so calm,” he kisses your temple a few times. 

“Trust me, humans can endure a lot when they know there’s a time limit,” you chuckle humorlessly and pull away, “Let’s just do the gift exchange and leave.”

Downstairs, your parents are waiting for you by the tree. The collection of presents is sparse this year due to the short notice but you find it relieving to know that the gift exchange will be over quickly. 

Placing the baby monitor on the coffee table, you sit down on the sofa but don’t allow yourself to relax into it. Javier drops down beside you but leans back into his seat, his hand resting casually on your thigh to ground you. 

“Let’s get to the gifts. It’ll be nice to end this day on a happy note,” your mother says overly cheerfully, pretending to have forgiven and forgotten all about the situation earlier. She reaches for the first gift under the tree while your father stands ready with a bag for the wrapping paper. 

“That’s mine,” Javier tells her with a little smirk in your direction. He holds out his hand until she gives it to him, “To my beautiful wife. Merry Christmas, baby.”

“How thoughtful,” your mother mumbles and sits on the edge of her armchair. 

“Javi, I thought we weren’t on gifts this year,” you scold playfully but there’s no seriousness to your voice. You finally smile and this time it is genuine, feeling his gaze on you while you impatiently rip the wrapping. 

“I know what I said but I know you’ll love it. It’s more for Lucas anyway,” he informs you shyly. 

Inside, you find two pairs of identical fuzzy and comfortable socks with a dinosaur print on them. However, one pair fits Lucas’ tiny feet and the other fits yours. Your whole demeanor changes with the sight of your gift, your face lighting up with a bright smile, “These are so cute!”

“For your cold feet. Thought you could use something cozy while you take care of Luke at home,” he moves his hand to rest just above the small of your back, his palm smoothing over you on top of the fabric of your blouse. 

Your parents sit idly by. They stare at the gift with confusion and arrogance, clearly holding their tongue over how ridiculous they find it. Your mother picks at her fingers, “Interesting.”

“Interesting? Aren’t they adorable?” You hold the matching socks up happily, not sure what to expect but not even your mother’s judgmental expression can bring you down right now. To really rub it in, you kiss Javier’s mouth gently in front of them, “Gracias, esposo (Thank you, husband).”

But the happiness is short-lived as your father goes to get the next present from the small pile. He searches for a moment amongst the few there are, deliberately seeking out the present that you have brought them, most likely to be able to leave the room soon due to the obvious tension. He has never been one to intervene. 

“You shouldn’t have,” your mother tuts with a small smile as she carefully unwraps it in her lap, her fingers doing everything they can to not tear the paper so she can reuse it. 

When the framed picture of Lucas is revealed - a photo taken during an afternoon when he was particularly happy and smiling - her smile develops into a slightly wider one even if it looks against her will. She studies the picture with your father looking over her shoulder. 

“We thought you’d like something to remember him by,” you encourage her to say something. 

Your mother places the photo on the coffee table, her hands smoothing out the wrapping paper while she talks, “It’s lovely, sweetie. Though I’m sure we’d have more memories if we got to see him more often.”

You tense up beside Javier. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him do the same but he squeezes your hip to tell you that he is right there. Anxiously, you curl your fingers into your skirt but your mother isn’t finished.

“I just don’t understand why you’ve been so distant,” she continues, cold in her tone. “You hardly call, which would be fine but you visit even less than that, and now you’re letting Lucas sleep through his first Christmas. It’s not like you’ve gone back to work, so what is it?”

“Mom, please,” you say quietly but it doesn’t veil the wavering of your words, “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Are you?” She challenges, “Lucas has been fussing all night, hasn’t he? Maybe he’s picking up on your stress.”

You hear Javier say your mother’s name as he had during dinner, low and with warning. At the same moment, the baby monitor crackles with the sound of Lucas’ tiny complaints. The sound pulls you from your seat, your instincts to go to him overriding your desire to defend yourself from further abuse. However, your mother’s voice rings out behind you just as you take your first step.

She rolls her eyes, “Oh, just let him cry a little. You’ll make him clingy if you keep running to him every time he whimpers.”

You stop in your tracks, finally turning around to look her in the eye with your own eyes narrowed. You can see Javier watching you closely while you talk, “Mom, if he cries, he needs me.”

According to you, she has already gone too far but it seems that she cannot stop once she has started, “You know, you really should stop babying him so much. He needs to learn to self-soothe.”

Tears of frustration start to build in your chest and you can feel the muscles of your throat start to tighten as they rise to your eyes, “Jesus Christ, Mom, I’m not going to stop babying my baby.”

Her final blow comes out with a deliberate intention to hurt you, “There you go overthinking again and snapping at your mother. He is whimpering. Honestly, sometimes I wonder how Javier puts up with it. You can be such a bitch when you’re stressed.”

The room falls dead silent and the first tear escapes your eye at the cruel nickname… then a second and then a third until you start to cry silently and hopelessly. You suddenly feel like a teenager again, suffering from forced proximity. Your father opens his mouth but nothing comes out, seemingly not able to figure out how to defend his wife for once. It is the final straw for Javier.

“What did you just say?” He firmly cuts through the silence. He has gotten up from his seat and has stepped in front of you to shield you protectively from your mother’s line of sight. His nostrils flare with anger that might explode into rage at any moment but he keeps his voice steady, “You better not have said what I think you did or I am wondering why you haven’t apologized already.”

Your mother’s eyes widen at the idea of consequences. She splutters, caught off guard, “Apologize? Javier, don’t be ridiculous! I’m her mother—“

Javier laughs dangerously and condescendingly and looks away with a roll of his eyes. He shakes his head, not afraid to let the room know that he thinks she sounds pathetic without even calling her out on it. He crosses his arms over his chest, “You got a hell of a way of showing motherly love then; all you have done is tear her down today.”

“Javier,” your father tries to interject, “Let’s not make this into a scene.”

“No,” Javier turns to him, his jaw muscles flexing slightly underneath his skin with how much anger is flowing through him. The simple word makes your father sit up straighter than before - a testament to Javier’s days in Colombia - but Javier is not done, “You don’t get to lecture me about making a scene. Not after sitting there and letting this happen. She is your daughter.”

When your father has shut his mouth, looking uncomfortable by his defeat while he leans back into his seat with no intention to follow up on his words, Javier’s fury settles on your mother once more, “What’s your goal here, exactly?”

You’re aware that it isn’t just a simple few tears falling from your eyes anymore but rather a silent stream that has your face puffy and sensitive. It is accompanied by grief over your younger self not having had someone like Javier in her corner. You sniffle audibly, feeling as if you have been punched in the gut with how much it hurts and humiliates you to sit idly by. Your mother catches a glimpse of you behind your husband but it doesn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever. 

“There’s no secret agenda here, for God’s sake. I didn’t mean anything by it,” she sneers, trying to keep her demeanor straight despite the humiliation of getting called out being evident on her face. 

“Yes, you did,” Javier argues immediately and fiercely, pointing his index finger at her in an accusing manner, “You knew exactly what you were saying. You wanted her to hurt. Well congratulations, you’ve succeeded. Unfortunately, your daughter is a lot nicer than me and handled your words with a lot more grace than you deserve. I will not be doing the same thing.”

Your mother’s composure falters. She says your father’s name helplessly but he looks at her with tired eyes, full of quiet disappointment. Even if he is absent and passive like always, his refusal to intervene further is a sign that he would never go as far as his wife has just done. He shakes his head in disapproval, “Why’d you do it? We were having such a nice time too.”

She gapes at your father while his gaze drops to his lap, shrinking herself slightly at the realization that she is outnumbered and has to face your husband alone. Javier takes a step closer, radiating authority when she tries to avoid further confrontation, distaste so clear on his face for how he has lost her attention for a moment. When you let out a quiet sob, too paralyzed in your spot on the couch to go to your whimpering child, his face hardens further and he continues, “Listen to me.”

Your mother looks up reluctantly. She appears to be on the brink of an attempt to turn his words against him and argue right back once more, but Javier cuts her off before she can even start. 

“You don’t talk to her like that again. Ever. And you most certainly do not question her ability to be a mother. She is a perfect mother and God knows, she hasn’t gotten it from you. Lucas is a happy, healthy, and thriving baby because of her,” he takes a breath, and for a second, it seems like he might be done but then, “You hurt my girl, you understand that? And if you ever speak to her like that again - actually if you even speak about her like that again -  I will personally make sure you don’t get to have Lucas in your life.”

“Are you threatening us?” Her composure slips even more. 

“No, ma’am, I am instructing you,” he replies coldly, “If you can’t respect his mother, we’re done here.”

Javier turns to you now, his face softening immediately at the sight of you sitting teary-eyed on the couch with your hands clutching the baby monitor. He says your name so softly, a sound that has always felt like an unfamiliar and unwelcome sound within this house, and gently pulls the piece of technology out of your hands. 

“Listen to me, baby. Go wait in the car. I’ll get Lucas and his things,” he instructs you, placing the baby monitor on the coffee table behind him without looking away from you. He helps you to stand when you find yourself nodding. 

When you’re up from your seat, he puts a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the door. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let you linger in the room. 

“You don’t have to leave,” your mother protests with obvious surprise that you and Javier are carrying out the promise of consequences. She begins pushing herself to stand. 

“Sit down, I will not let you disturb any of the peace she has left,” he commands harshly when she tries to take a step toward you. 

Your mother falters, stunned by his audacity, and sinks back into her seat.

The moment you’re out of the front door, your legs start shaking so badly beneath you that you aren’t sure if you’ll even make it to the car. The walk feels endless, like climbing a mountain, the neighborhood surrounding your childhood home quiet because everyone is inside with the happy family that you never got to have growing up. 

Until now. You have it now. However, you have left them to fend for themselves on the battlefield to slide into the front seat of the car. You rub your chest as it feels tight but it soothes nothing and suddenly, the tears come harder than they had in the living room. You rest your head against the glass window, screwing your eyes shut and feeling drips of hot tears on your cheeks.

Memories come flooding and you have no power to stop them, pictures of many nights spent in solitude in your room because it was the only illusion of sanctuary in the house before you. The sound of your mother’s scoffs, her unbearable ability to make you feel small, inadequate, and unwanted. Her year-long cruelty feels like a knife in your chest but your father’s silent complicity twists its blade too, makes you think that you were never worthy of defending. 

Yet Javier had done it so effortlessly, had done what you’d wished someone would have done for you in your entire life, and he had done it without any hesitation. You are shattered by another night believing the worst about yourself, yes, but you realize that a part of your sobs comes from relief too. Suddenly, it all feels silly and you don’t know why you have always stopped Javier from speaking up for you since you met because his words - she is a perfect mother - have taken the power out of your mother’s incredibly fast. 

You hear the front door open and a shaky sob leaves you at seeing the two of your boys approach the car. Javier has the diaper bag over his shoulder whilst cradling Lucas against his chest, his face serious. He moves in long strides to get to you fast, not saying anything as he buckles Lucas’ sleeping form into his car seat before climbing into his own seat in the front. 

You sit up again, eyes still brimming with tears that streak your face. You feel overwhelmed like you have run a marathon or fought a bear or a monster. 

Javier puts on his seatbelt but doesn’t put the key in the ignition yet. He looks out of the windshield for a moment, breathes a sigh of relief. The car is quiet except for Lucas’ soft breaths as he sleeps.

Right until Javier says your name when you don’t automatically turn your head to look at him, ashamed of how the day has progressed. It is Christmas, after all, and Lucas’ first one ever too. 

“Mírame (Look at me),” he says in a gentle murmur. 

You shake your head, unable to answer with how tightly wound you are. You feel his hand under your chin, carefully pulling you by your chin until your eyes meet his. His outline is blurry from all the tears but his voice cuts through the fog in gentle firmness. 

“I love you so much, and I love our son, okay?” He says it like it is a promise, “They aren't ever gonna to talk to you like that again because I won't allow them to. Do you understand me?”

You silently look at him through your tears, nodding weakly. He reaches to brush your tears away with a knuckle. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay because you don’t have to see them if you don’t want to. You just have to let me take care of you,” he continues and cups your cheek instead, “And right now, I say you’re done with them for tonight. Actually, for as long as you fucking want.”

“I want… I don’t…” You say at first but then, “I’m sorry.”

Javier furrows his brows, “Why are you sorry?” 

“Because that’s my mom,” you try to speak around a fresh sob, “And you married me and I trapped you with my fucked up family.”

“Hey, heyheyhey,” he shakes his head, moving his other hand to cup your whole face now. He leans over the console of the car and rests his forehead against yours. When you simply cry harder, he pulls you into a hug, “You didn’t trap me, okay? You didn’t. I’m here because you make me happy. You make me so happy, baby, and Hell knows, I needed a bit of taking care of when you met me. Let me return the favor.”

His body is warm, soothing, and grounding. His embrace squeezes you hard enough to make you calm down, giving you a moment of quiet peace in your mind as you begin to take in his words. You feel the same. You want to say it but you’re afraid that you’ll never stop crying tonight, so instead you find the courage to say those words that you should have told yourself years ago, “I don’t think I want to go back.”

“What do you want to do then?” Javier pulls back to look at you. He moves back into his own seat again and starts the car to give you time to think clearly about his question. 

“Can we go to your dad’s?” You ask hesitantly. 

Javier’s brows rise slightly but he doesn’t argue, just nods as he puts the car in reverse. Before reversing out of the driveway, he pulls you in to kiss your forehead softly. 

“Claro, mi amor (Sure, my love),” he says simply, “He’d love to see us.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[writingoddess1125]

The old men of One Piece finding out they have a child with you.

Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk X FemReader

Healthy mix of Angst and Fluff.

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Part 2

Buggy

"You two get your asses down now!" You yelled, trying to stop the two blue haired boys from destroying the restaurant further. Your two identical twins sons where only 11 years old but they were trouble- Double Trouble as everyone called them. Benny and Danny, who had given themselves the Nicknames of Bee and Dee- cause of course they did.

It wasnt just their dramatic tendencies, destructive nature or lack of volume control that made them silkar to a know pirate but also their appearance Who was non other then- Buggy the Clown. While they did lack the trademarked rounded red nose. They did get almost everything else- Long nlue locks, watercolor eyes and that crooked smile of theirs- it really wasn't fair how your genes didn't even have a chance-

It hasn't exactly been your best of moments when you conceived your children- Having been a performer on the famous pirate ship you ended up sleeping with your Captian one night on his Silly Throne. A few weeks later you started to feel unwell and realized you had been pregnant. In a moment of panic you fled the ship the next time it docked- Running from your Crew and Captian to never be seen again.

Once realizing you were on your own. You did what you could to make a living- opening a flashy little restaurant and using it to raise your two trouble makers. Dee running past you with a giggle snapped you from your thoughts, frowning as you set down your customers order infront of them before following the boy.

"Mom Mom! Look!" Bee yelled as he stood on one of the tables pointing out the window of the restaurant at the open ocean, Dee taking his place next to his twin. You walked closer to see what your son was looking at, the fog being thick that night as you tried to focus on what he was seeing.

Squinting your eyes you finally saw it- a Ship. As your eyes focused you saw the Jolly Roger and gasped, Ice feeling like it ran through your vain. You grabbed the boys quickly and backed away from the window. As if on cue the alarms set to alert that pirates had arrived. The sounds of canons hitting the town soon peirced through the alarms and the whole town erupted in chaos. You rush from the windows to the back of your restaurant.

Rushing down the stairs you knew Buggy and the crew would level the town to ashes. The best place to hid being the cellar, while it was small it would hopefully keep you and your boys safe. "Mom what's happening!?" Dee cried as he did his best to keep up with your fast pace. You didn't bother responding as you rushed to the old underground cellar lifting the rug and opened its little door.

"Mom I don't want to go down there!" Bee cried as you lowered him in the cellar first, Dee following soon after as you tried to sooth them.

"I know I know my loves, But do as I say- Stay quiet and-"

You paused as you heard the sound of crashing from out in the dining room followed by screams. Quickly you climbed in with your boys and lowered the wooden door of the cellar above you and frantically tried to place the rug so it fell onto it before plunging you and your sons in darkness.

You sat there shaking, holding your boys close to your chest as you heard the sound of someone walking towards you. Your hands shaking as you held them closer, feeling the moisture of your sons tears soaking into your dress.

You heard the sound of footsteps starting to search the room above you. Previously looking for valuables or anything interesting-

"Captian! I found the liquor!" The voice above you called out, Clearly grabbing the cases of rum that sat in the room above. Heavier footsteps followed into the room, hearing the cackle that made your skin stand up on end.

"Grab it all and whatever people you can find! We have a show tonight afterall!" You heard Buggy voice sound. The crew mate clearly rushing out with the cases while Buggy remained. You heard him turn through the room, ready to leave before his heavy steps landed on the cellar door above you it's old wood groaning at the weight. Your eyes widened as you realized you'd been caught, Without time to react the door was ripped open and you couldn't help but release a scream.

Buggy- In his hands you see his signature blades as he grinned down in the cellar. Reaching down and grabbing you by the hair and yanking you out-

"A new audience memeber!- wait" He raised an eyebrow as he held you up higher by your hair and looked over your crying face. His eyes looking over your face. "I know you... (Y/N)?" He asked questionably before his eyes shot to see a flash of blue dart at him and kick him as another one came to try and pull you from his grasp.

"Let her go!" "LEAVE OUR MAMA ALONE!" Your boys desperately screamed as they weakly tried to attack the man holding you. Buggy dropping you quickly as he stared down at the three of you, You quickly pulling the boys away from him and behind you.

A awkward silence following this as Buggy released a shaky breath before laughing loudly. A insane laugh that had him doubled over, before looking at you again with crazed eyes. A few crew members coming into the room after hearing their Captian laugh, especially at the sight of you, their former crewmate and two boys that looked like their Captian.

"Freaks, Take these three and lock them in my personal Quarters. We got a family reunion!"

Shanks

"Mommy I have Missy Luc-ia ready!" You heard your daughter call out. Setting out the freshly frosted cupcake, onto the countertop, that she was just barely taller then. Smiling down at the bright face before you- She may be only 4 but she was the sweetest girl.

"Thank you Vivian. Can you grab the order list for Mommy?" You ask, getting an exaggerated nod and running off. Her mess of bright red hair bouncing with each step. A little clone of her dad, The famed Shanks 'Red Hair' a former fling of yours.

It had been a nice little relationship you two shared, him coming by every other week to meet with you when his ship restocked. Buying random pastries you knew he bought to get close to you, always complimenting your Baking skills and sweetness. Which ended up to many passionate nights both in your own bed and on Shanks ship. The last time you met, Shanks told you he had to go for a while and didn't know if he's return. Tears shed as you watched him set sail- having the feeling you'd never see him again.

As if the gods had sympathy for you or wanted to use you as a cruel joke you fell pregnant. Giving birth to your daughter who ended up being a Shanks part 2. A giggly and happy baby with unique red hair, while she was a perfect mix of the two of you in terms of face she inherited Shank's smile, hair and eye shape.

As you packed the poorly frosted cupcake that your daughter had made. Ignoring the fingerprints in its frosting- you hit it in the back of the fridge you'd never tell her you couldn't sell it since she had eaten part of her work and replaced it with the true finishes product to be delivered.

As you finished your packing you heard the bell of your bakery door chime.

"Welcome to the Sweet treats bakery, how can I help yo-" the words froze to your lips as you saw Shanks. Eyes wide at seeing him again, it was clear he had delt with some serious wear and tear by how the world seemed to settle on his shoulders a bit more.

"(Y/N) long time no see" He said softly as he stared at you, mentally still trying to process what you were seeing. He stepped forward, Looking ready to explain himself away before the sound of tiny footsteps drew him in- Seeing the little girl holding a notepad with all your orders and running to you. Out of muscle memory you scooped your daughter and placed her on your hip, she smiled at you and held the order book out to you again which you gingerly took.

"Here you go Mommy!" She chimed, Looking at you as she noted your shocked face. Her gaze following the now shocked man, He looked like a breeze could knock him down as he stared at her then you then her again.

"Shes mine isn't she?" Shanks asked, his eyes never leaving the little girl on your hip. Vivian looking at Shank's then you confused at what was taking place. Before you could respond however it seemed Shank's answered his own question. Laughing loudly in utter joy and jumping forward towards you, scaling the countertop like it wasn't even there and crashed his lips against yours happily.

"Ha! I'm a Dad!!" He cheered, Taking his one arm around you and starting to spin you and Vivian who at first was scared. But hearing the giggles from the man started to as well- the two even laughed the same which made the Red Haired man even happier.

"Y-Yes Shanks. She is yours...This is Vivian" You said softly, watching Shanks lean in close to view his daughter. It was like he had found the most amazing treasure in the world and it shone in his eyes.

"Vivian, Such a beautiful name for the most beautiful girl in the world" He said in awe, earning a shy smile from Vivian.

"Vi, This is... this is your Daddy" You say softly, watching Vivian look up at you then back at Shanks. Hesitant at first before holding out her arms tk him, taking the opportunity he scooped her up in his single arm and held her close. Tears welling up in his eyes as he looked at her delicate face, her chubby little fingers touching his face and looking over him.

"You're my Daddy?" She asked innocently. A smile breaking over Shanks face as he nodded and held her close, tears pouring down his face.

"That's right baby girl- I'm your Daddy"

Mihawk

It had been 16 long years since you had laid eyes on Mihawk- a simple one night stand that had long consequences that followed. Your son, your beautiful baby boy who you named Alucare.

It had been at a bar, the two of you drinking and simply talking. Before one thing lead to another in the alleyway next to the bar- You truthfully cringed at the thought of how embarrassing it was to be undone by a few nice words, a charming warlord and some drinks.

"Mother, which one did you want?" Your son asked, snapping you from your thoughts pointing to the fishmongers selection, his emotionless face like a carbon copy of his father's.

Truthfully he looked too much like his damn father- same yellow eyes, black hair, very tall form, stoic face the only thing missing was the facial hair Which you thanked The Gods for since you didn't think you could stare at your one night stands face forever. Alucare did have some differences, he had your nose as well as kept his hair longer. The thick spicy locks hitting the center of his back which you helped him care for. But truthfully that was really it-

You also knew that other people would star long at your boy, a few times Marines having come up to see your son when he was walking to school or going to the market. He knew who his father was, having Marines who had seen him in battle tell him as much. However he never seemed to care, just giving them a frosty look that made them back away before leaving. Whenever you'd brought up the topic of His father he often would sit quietly for a few moments before saying he wasn't interested in such a conversation which you respected.

"Hmm, that one is fresher-" You say sweetly as your boy grabs the fish and plops it in the basket, Handing the merchant the berries.

Always the gentleman he would take your arm in his as the two of you walked. He would hold the heavier baskets and give you only bread or a small bag of fruit. He was too kind as a child, you felt bad at times at how his eyes seemed to know the struggles you had faced when he was born and tried to help you out now that he was older besides your persistence.

"Alucare, I heard from your teachers yoh got very high marks again. Do you want to celebrate? Maybe a nice dinner is in order? Or-"

"It's just a test Mother. No need for so much trouble" He said softly, giving a hint of a smile at his words. You chuckled at him and shook your head. Stubborn too.

You felt your son stop midstep- Glancing up at him as his face turned to stone before your eyes.

"Honey?" You call to him, before following his gaze at what had caught his attention. Across the market a dark figure stood, You immediately felt your heart drop to your stomach as you knew instantly who it was- Mihawk standing there with the same stoic expression as Alucare but his eyes seemed to be a bit wider. Most likely the closest to shock that could come over his face-

You tugged slightly to turn back, not wanting to create a accidental scene but your son clearly had other plans. Instead starting to walk again, His arm still holding yours as he kept his gaze at Mihawk. You expected Alucare to stop infront of Mihawk- a blowup or something but. No.

Alucare just walked past Mihawk- Like he wasn't even there. His face staying forward as no words passed. As you continued to walk you turned to look behind you where you saw Mihawk, he seemed to stagger on his feet like someone had finally peirced him with a blade.. but it seemed to be a invisible one to his heart.

[vivwritesfics]

Grow Old With You

Bob didn't want to introduce his girl to his squad. But she was his fiance and he did want them at the wedding. When Hangman tries it on, Bob knows she really is the one

This is so fluffy I love him sm

She squeezed his hand. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to," she whispered to him.

When Bob turned to her, she fixed his hair and gently pushed his glasses up his nose. He shook his head and squeezed her hand. This was something they had to do, he knew it.

After he had been called back to Top Gun, Bob had been permanently stationed in San Diego (aside from deployment). He and the rest of his squad were kept together, ready at a moments notice to be called back to Top Gun.

After two months of living there, the most beautiful woman knocked on his door. Her car had broken down and her phone had no battery. Bob was only too happy to help. She'd introduced herself abd he introduced himself right back. Except he introduced himself as Robert. Nobody called him Robert.

"But you can call me Bob," he said quickly, correcting himself. Bob had offered her something to eat while they waited for the tow truck to arrive.

They'd spoken a lot in that time. She found out he was a Weapon Systems officer and she was fascinated. It was easy to lose track of time with Bob.

Before she knew it the tow truck was pulling up outside. While the mechanic hooked her car up, she wrote down her phone number and left it on his kitchen table, praying he would call her.

She didn't tell him she had left it. Bob couldn't help but regret not asking for her number as she climbed into the tow truck. He should have gone with her, he thought instantly. Or, at least driven her there himself.

But it was too late, and he doubted he'd ever see her again. Sighing, he headed back into his house. He didn't notice the little piece of paper on his table at first, walked past it at least four times before he finally saw it.

And, when he did see it, he immediately saved her number to his phone. He didn't text or call right away, but he didn't know how long to wait.

This wasn't his department. This was something Hangman and Rooster usually did. Part of him was itching to ask them for advice, but he wanted to keep her to himself. God knows as soon as Hangman and Rooster found out about her, it would be game over for him.

The WSO looked at his future wife, at the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He could do this. For her, he could do this.

Bob lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. "Ready," he said and pulled her towards The Hard Deck.

He couldn't very well message Rooster and Hangman, he knew that. But there was one person he could ask for advice. Nat was only to happy to help Bob with what to say. She gave him flirty lines to text to her.

But, the more that Natasha sent to him, the more things didn't feel right to Bob. He couldn't send any of these. 'You can take a ride in my cockpit ;)' and 'Are you a tarmac? Because my heart wants to land and stay with you' especially didn't feel right to him.

Bob thanked Natasha for her help, but he didn't take it. No, three days after he had met her, three days after she had left her number on his kitchen table, Bob finally messaged her.

'Hey, it's Bob'

That was all his text said. Anxiously he waited for her to text back. What if she doesn't? What if she was just being polite? What if she'd already forgotten about him?

'Hey, the WSO, right?' She had texted back. 'I was beginning to think I wasn't going to hear from you, haha'

The way Bob's heart was beating, he couldn't believe it. She was interested, and she had been waiting for him.

Bob felt the blush raising to his cheeks as he typed back a response. They texted through the afternoon, only stopping because they needed to sleep. The conversation ended with her asking him over for dinner, to repay for how he helped her when the car broke down.

The music didn't stop when they walked in. That would have been dramatic, but very fitting, thought Bob. But, the way all if his squad was staring at him, the music might as well have stopped.

She squeezed his hand and he started forward, taking her over to the squad. Only Natasha knew of her existence and, as much as Bob wanted it to, he couldn't keep things that way.

The dinner was the first date of many. Neither of them had known it was a date, not until much later in the relationship. There was a second, and then a third. On the third they found themselves on his couch, her arms around his neck as they kissed.

It was maybe two months after that third date that they realised the first dinner they had was their first date. But Bob already had the date memorised.

Bob had let her set the pace on their relationship. She was the one who had him wrapping his arms around her, she was the one jumping into hid arms after days apart and kissing him softly.

Four months of this and Bob realised that he wanted to grow old with her.

"Who the hell have you got there, Baby On Board?" Hangman called. He wasn't looking at Bob, concentrating on the woman stood beside him. As he usually did when facing a gorgeous woman, Jake wore his killer smile.

"Shut up," Natasha said to him as she strode forward. "I'm Nat, its nice to finally meet you."

Although this was her first time meeting them, Bob had been sure to tell his girl all about them. As they cooked dinner together, moving in tandem around the kitchen, he'd tell her about their first time at Top Gun, when they were all called back for a mission.

They were stories she'd never get bored of hearing. Her Bobby, the weapon systems officer.

They introduced themselves to her. One by one she shook their hands grinning at them. Bob couldn't help but feel slightly protective as she shook Bradley and Jake's hands.

As the game of pool resumed, Bob sat himself on a stool and pulled her into his chest. His hands settled over her stomach and she leaned against him as she spoke to his squad.

After a good few minutes, Bob hopped up from his seat. "I'll get us some drinks," he said and kissed her cheek. She squeezed his bicep as he walked to the bar.

As soon as Bob was out of sight, Jake came walking towards her. He was the only one she recognised from just how often her Bob complained about him. "What did Baby On Board do to get a pretty thing like you?" He asked as he leaned against the wall beside her, towering over her.

She stared at him, clearly unimpressed. "Uhm, he's sweet, lovely, a perfect gentleman and incredibly hot," she said as she looked towards the bar, searching for her Bobby.

But Hangman wasn't giving up. "Okay, so what do I have to do to get a girl like you?"

She reeled of the list she had just given him.

"Okay," he tried again, leaning closer. "What do I have to do to get you?"

She rolled her eyes. Finally Bob came back and passed her a beer. "Thank you, Bobby," she said and kissed his cheek as he wrapped an arm around her. She turned her attention back to Jake and held up her hand, revealing the ring on her finger.

"Oh," Hangman said and backed away.

Bob grinned and leaned down to kiss her. This was the woman he was going to spend his life with.

[reidmania]

cedar | spencer reid

summary; breaking up on good terms and remaining friends is difficult, especially when you and spencer work together, its even harder when your life is put at risk and spencer is faced the possibility that he might really lose you.

warnings; exes who cannot stay exes, angst, fluff, they flirt w each other, fem reader, mentions of being stabbed, all cm minds things, happy ending, avoidant!reader, self sabotaging reader. BUT THERES SOOO MUCH FLUFF GUYS, they flirt and banter so much, reader is sarcastic and very playful, shes lowkey lorelai gilmore coded a little idk

an; cedar is my song. i love cedar, i love gracie abrams. thank u and goodnight. not proof read bc if i read it i probably wont post it. thank u so very muchly to @gghostwriter for all the advice on this fic and letting me yap about it.

‘Breaking up is funny, I forget you aren't mine, I forget you aren't mine. It's impossible to acclimate, every time we talk, we understate, how I know we both could die, we both could die. But you told me that you felt the same, when I told you how I needed space, but I think it was a lie, it was a lie’

“You know pointing is rude.” You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as you leant back in your chair. The room went silent as everyone turned their gaze to look at you. Was the timing of your statement the best? No, did you care? Also no. Hotch was in the middle of going on the details of the case you had traveled out to Louisiana for, he was pointing at the screen and the thought just slipped passed your lips before you could help it.

Spencer turned his gaze to you, eyebrow rasied, “Do you ever think before you speak?” He asked. Your lips parted before shutting again, then you let out an amused huff and shook your head, lips pulling into a half teasing smile.

“If I did that I’d lose my sense of humour— you all would be miserably bored.” You sighed back, the smiling pulling further on your lips as the messy haired brunette sitting opposite you raised his eyebrow further and let out a half hearted— almost sarcastic chuckle in return.

He tilted his head slightly, “Humour? Is that what we are calling it?” He asked. You nodded instantly, a wide, half proud smile taking over your features. He hummed, clearly amused.

“Why is pointing rude?” JJ spoke up, your eyes widened in almost excitement to be able to talk about why the thought had crossed your mind in the first place.

“Well when you point you kill all the fairies.” You replied, matter-of- factually. You knew it was technically silly but it was a sweet childish thought that had been engraved in your mind since you were younger and you heard it from a distant relative, probably as a way to you from stop pointing at someone (because that was rude but explaining that to a five year old would be useless so they settled on something more interesting for an adolescent)

Spencer let out an audible laugh, “You are a child.” He said, almost teasingly.

Your head turned away from JJ’s to meet his eyes, this time you sat up a little straighter, “What does that make you?” You teased back, raising your eyebrow at him.

Seemingly, that made his lips part then close, and he resigned, yet there was still a slightly amused smile on his lips, which he bit his lip to try to hide, as he turned his attention away, making your smile only widen as you settled back in place, slumped against your chair as you turned your attention back to Hotch. who was standing arms crossed, clearly unamused by the interruption.

You however just smiled widely at him, “You may continue now. Without pointing, don’t be a fairy murder.” You huffed out. Hotch stared at you for a moment, no emotion evident over his features before he shook his head, turning his attention back to the case at hand.

Your eyes caught Spencer’s for a moment. In those moments it was increasingly difficult to remember you weren’t together, it was further difficult to remember why you had broken up in the first place. The way you interacted, the looking for one another in a crowded room, the soft touches and the teasing taunts went against every breakup ‘rule’

The breakup wasn’t messy. Not really, Not at all. It wasn’t mean, there was no big argument, no mind changer, no feelings lost, it just.. happened. It started when you had admitted to Spencer you were getting overwhelmed with the fast pace of your relationship, and he agreed he was too. You both agreed to take space, time, to reevaluate on what you both needed at this point in time.

When the conversation finally happened, you told him you thought it would be better to end things now, while everything is good so theres no chance of things going bad. You explained your reasoning by saying you didn’t want to lose your friendship with him if that feeling in your chest never went away, you didn’t want things to be awkward at work.

He had agreed, and it was mutual. You both mutually agreed to end things out of the fear of things ending.

It had been a month since the breakup, there was no awkward phase between you two. There was no tension, bitterness. It instantly fell into the same rhythm that had always been there, playfulness, teasing, lingering glances. The only difference was now he didn’t steal kisses to cut off one of your dramatic rambles, or wrap his arms around your waist at the end of the work day to signal he was ready to go.

You hadn’t decided yet, if the breakup was the right thing to do, if keeping this close knit bond with Spencer stumped any chance of you moving on — not that you planned to right now.

The breakup wasn’t messy, but everything after, everything now and everything in your head was.

“Spencer” You poked at his arm as you approached where he was standing, leaning over a desk reading over something, you weren’t sure what it was, you didn’t really care. He didn’t look at you as he let out a hum of acknowledgment, making you smile. “Spencer” You repeated, poking his arm again, and then again, until he turned his head to look at you.

His raised eyebrow and the way his lips pulled into a tight thin line showed he was unamused, not annoyed. You smiled widely at him, “You’re in my way.” You said, something you could have told him when he was half paying attention, but that took all the fun out of it.

He stared at you blankly for a moment, before crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his body against the desk further, turning towards you. Which only further blocked your path. “Thats unfortunate.” He sighed, you squinted at him slightly.

“Can you move.” You huffed. No longer amused because it was less amusing when he was amused as well. Maybe that was silly but you couldn’t help it.

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to think about it for a moment, before looking back at you. You glared at him, crossing his arms over your chest before he spoke. “Whats the magic word?” He mumbled, tone laced with faux seriousness.

A huff left your lips, as you glared up at him, squinting your eyes slightly, “Chivalry is dead?” You suggested sarcastically.

He grinned, “No. And that’s a sentence. I said magic word”

“You know what? I will just go the other way.” You decided, turning on your heels to walk away. A laugh left his lips as he reached out to grab your wrist, stopping you from getting too far, he dragged you back to stand in front of him.

“Stubborn.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he looked down at you, you returned the gaze, tilting your head slightly as you looked up at him, trying to keep the smile threatening to make way onto your face.

“You just noticed?” You replied in the same tone. Although you knew he had known this for a while, he never failed to mention how stubborn you were throughout your relationship, whether it was playful or in the middle of an argument, he constantly reminded you just how stubborn you were.

He shook his head, not bothering to hide the amusement on his face. “No, No. Trust me you make it very known.” He said, emphasising his words to make it clear that not only he, but everyone was aware of your stubbornness.

You smiled, “Being stubborn isn’t a bad thing, you know.” You mumbled, gently pulling your wrist away from his hold, not because you didn’t enjoy the touch but more-so because you felt an undying urge to cross your arms.

He hummed, looking down at you, “I didn’t say it was.”

You tilted your head, the same entertained look in your eye that mirrored his, “You inferred it.” You said, matter-of-factually, although he didn’t, not really. He actually didn’t give any hint to what he meant by his words, but you were okay with that. It kept things lighthearted, easy.

“You assumed.” He said in the same tone. “I didn’t infer anything, I simply made an observation.” He said, raising his eyebrow as if he was trying to figure out how you were going to find a way to reply — he assumed something witty, dramatic.

“Can you observe from elsewhere.. you’re still in my way”

He let out an amused laugh, “Im still waiting on that magic word” He said, clearly enjoying this and the light hearted banter between the two of you.

You rolled your eyes, in a huff of frustration you ramble, “You are creating a hostile work environment. I feel unsafe. I feel targeted and threatened. How do you feel about yourself, after treating me such a way? You are a horrible evil person. Im going to take this to corporate.” You babbled off into a dramatic tangent which only furthered Spencer’s amusement of the current situation.

“I feel pretty great actually.” He shrugged, you glared at him, staying in place for a moment to see if he would move, he didn’t, instead he continued smirking slightly. You groaned dramatically before turning on your heels and walking away. You could hear his laughter as you walked around the opposite direction to get where you wanted to go in the first place.

“I hate when my job actually requires me to do my job.” You huffed out, shaking your head as you tightened the straps of your vest. It wasn’t true, you loved your job, you loved what you did and that wasn’t a question. It was just the dramatics and the emphasis on how tired you were today, although that didn’t stop killers from killing, or kidnappers from kidnapping.

Unfortunately this case was particularly tough, it had taken an abundance of days to just figure out the victimology and connection because of how random the killings were, then it took another day to figure out the MO, then the profile was completed, then the next day, today, you had finally gotten the location of where the unsub was keeping his victims.

“Yeah, Such a struggle, poor you” Spencer mumbled out as he came up behind you, readjusting the straps on the back of your vest to make sure it was on properly, his voice was laced with tease, you just hummed in acknowledgment.

“Make sure you’re careful, and cautious.” Hotch reminded you. You didn’t think much of it at the time, it was the same reminder as always when catching an unsub, don’t do anything unnecessarily dangerous, don’t split up unless necessary, don’t put yourself in a situation that you cant get yourself out of, the words you had heard probably a million times.

You wished you paid closer attention this time.

You and Spencer walked through the house, it had an ominous feel to it, the air in the house was colder than outside, and it wasn’t a particularly warm day — but it wasn’t the temperature that made the house feel as cold as it did.

Instead it was the guttual sobs you heard from underneath the floorboards that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and goosebumps to line your arms. They weren’t sobs of pain, instead just ache, a cry so loud begging for someone to hear. Before that you were about to whisper a stupid joke to Spencer, now you felt as if you couldn’t breath.

“Stay here.” He whispered to you. There was something unfamiliar about the look in his eyes and any wit you could muster up was thrown out the window at the sound of his voice. It was a stupid request, you couldn’t just stay here in the hallway while he wandered around. You had a job to do.

When he turned the corner, gun pointed protectively, his movements were calculated and careful, every step he took he knew what he was doing, You thought you did too. The first step you took was quiet and your gun was pointed, your finger hovering over the trigger.

Spencer moved towards the sound of the sobs, you moved towards the living room, trying to clear the downstairs area of the house. There was a pull in your stomach for a number of seconds, a twist of anxiety you pushed to the side to focus on the matter at hand.

That didn’t last. Ignoring the feeling in your stomach turned into gasping at the feeling. A gasp of pain leaving your parted lips as you stumbled forward, the gun left your hand and hit the ground, the sound of the contact blurring as a ringing swindling sound took over your sense of hearing.

You were stabbed. You could feel the metal, more than you wanted to admit, you could feel the way it pressed into your skin, the coldness of it against the warmth of you. A sob of pain left your lips before you could help it. There was someone holding you, wrapping a tight arm around your chest and a hand over your mouth to silence your cry.

The arms weren’t comforting, in any sort of way. They were too tight, too suffocating for the lack of air you were able to breath in between the hand covering your mouth and the pain in your stomach, you wished adrenaline would kick in but it seemed to dwindle out as your head spun, then the knife was ripped away from your stomach.

That hurt.

More than it did when it first went in.

Then you were released from the mans arms and your body collapsed in pain, eyes squeezing shut as your hands scrambled to press against the open wound now bleeding out. You didn’t know where the unsub was, you didn’t hear footsteps, you didn’t really hear anything. Everything seemed blurry, not your sight so much since your eyes were squeezed shut but you could feel your mind blurring with every second that passed, any first aid training you had learnt flew out the window.

You missed it at first, the sound of the door opening, the sound of back up coming in, Derek, Emily. They were in the house now but not in the living room, not where you were lying on the floor in a helpless pool of your own blood. You wanted to yell out, or sob but every sound got stuck in your throat.

Then you felt a larger hand pressing on top of yours, placing more pressure against the wound than your tired arms had allowed, you made out frantic talking but nothing your half conscious mind could string together coherently. It didn’t matter, you could recognise the roughness of the gentle hand anywhere.

“Spencer” You gasped out, panting.

Had you been holding your breath? You didn’t remember but you knew breathing was getting more and more difficult.

His hand pressed against yours, other hand coming to brush hairs out of your face. “Im here. Can you open your eyes for me?” He almost begged, his voice gentle and reassuring and laced with panic even though he tried his hardest to remain calm for your sake.

You didn’t reply, only letting out strangled gasps for air, eyes remaining shut, squeezed tightly, as if the harder you squeezed them shut, the more your pain decreased. Unfortunately thats not how anatomy works.

“Open your eyes for me angel, look at me.” He now did beg. If you were conscious you would’ve given him a look for the use of the term of endearment in your current broken up state, but you could hardly process anything else he was saying, and you were bleeding out so there was clearly more important things.

You struggled, but after a moment peeled your eyes open to look at him. Vision was blurry and fading in and out even few seconds even when your eyes remained open, you couldn’t make out his features, you couldn’t see the tears he was trying to hold back. God you wished you could see his face.

“Good, thats good. Keep looking at me, Okay? We’re getting you help, you’re gonna be okay” He reassured but it was more of a slight reassurance for himself, trying to convince himself as such. His voice became a ringing in your ears, along with every other sound around you.

“Wh- Where- Is—“ You words came out mumbled, muffled by gasps for air and whimpers of pain. “He.” You finished, trying to keep your eyes open, trying to focus, trying to stay alive.

Spencer spluttered for a moment because he didn’t know— He had no idea. Whether the unsub was right behind him or whether they were being taken into custody by Derek or Emily, whether he was lying dead on the floor somewhere. Spencer didn’t know. He couldn’t. How could he focus on anything else?

“I don’t know” He said.

“Go away” You mumbled, eyes now fluttering closed, even in the state of half consciousness you knew Spencer was still in danger, more danger by keeping his back to his surroundings and his focus on you. That was putting himself in an unnecessarily dangerous situation.

He shook his head. “Im not going anywhere. Keep your eyes open.” He repeated.

“Spencer” You huffed out a breath of air, your eyes remaining closed because you were so tired. “Go. You- You aren’t— You aren’t my boyfriend anymore” You huffed out the words that came across way harsher than what you intended them, “Staying- With.. Me isn’t your.. Responsibilty” Your words came out laboured along with the way your chest rose and fell, the breaths that left your lips.

“Don’t say that. Open your eyes.” He shook his head as his other hand trailed down to your neck, fingers pressing against your pulse point. You couldn’t feel it, every part of you and every inch of his touch felt like a lingering sensation over the numbness of your body, your eyes remained shut.

“If i die” You huffed out, your voice quieter, more rushed as you tried to get more air in, “Please” You started before you let out a gentle sob, not of pain, you weren’t in pain, not anymore. “Please don’t let them use a bad— photo of me.. at..- my funeral”

It was the most you things to say before you stopped replying, before your body tensed slightly. To joke, to be playful at a time like this. Spencer wondered if it was an attempt to calm him down, to relax his mind a little bit, to sooth the ache in his soul with the wit that was unforgettably you.

The cream coloured walls seemed taunting, they were warmly lit, contrasting how cold the space felt, how daunting it was. There was different people scattered around, some crying, and grieving, some reading newspapers, others celebrating. There was really no contrast of emotions quite like a hospital waiting room.

“She just got out of surgery. Shes in the ICU.” Hotch said as he stood in front of the few members of the team that were sitting by waiting. Everyone wanted to stay at the hospital and wait throughout the time of your lengthy surgery, not everybody could.

“Is she okay?” Emily asked, sitting up a little straighter as Hotch spoke, Spencer remained silent in place, every part of his body relying on the ache in his chest to keep his heart beating. He didn’t know if he could form words even if he wanted to, he didn’t know if he could speak without his voice breaking.

Hotch was silent for a moment, which caused Spencer’s head to snap towards him in nothing but pure dread. Hotch realised and shook his head. “Shes— Shes fine. Shes alive. Shes still asleep, they said it could be a few hours before she wakes up. The surgery went fine - She will be okay” Hotch sounded relived as his spoke, an unfamiliar sense of emotion in his voice.

“Can I see her?” Spencer spoke urgently before he had even fully understood what he was saying. If he had thought about it for a moment more, he wouldn’t have bothered asking. He wasn’t oblivious to the inner workings of a hospital. ICU. Family members only.

Hotch seemed to know that Spencer already knew what the answer was, “Reid..” It came out regretful, apologetic, empathetic. Spencer didn’t reply, instead re-slumped back in his seat in defeat.

There was hours. Hours before you were awake. In those hours Spencer was nothing short of a mess. He tried to work, reading over case files, trying to summarise what had happened and then the memory of your blood painting his hands came back and he was left in a state of overwhelming thought.

“You alright, pretty boy?” Derek asked, despite the playfulness of his words, his tone was serious. It wasn’t a secret how much you meant to Spencer, it wasn’t a secret how much he cared about you. Spencer looked up from the hospital seat, the room had grown more absent of life as the hours passed, families came and went, the crying stopped and started again, the celebrations happened and passed. Yet spencer never stopped feeling so lost.

He shook his head, saying he was fine would be a lost cause to the knowingness of his best friend, and his current state. He was so evidently not all right that saying so would be humorous. His cheeks were flushed, hair a mess from the amount of times he had run his hand through it, tugged on the strands stressfully.

“You know what she said to me?” Spencer mumbled out as he pulled his gaze away to look at his fiddling hands, “She was laying on the floor, dying, and she told me to go away because I wasn’t her boyfriend anymore” Spencer huffed out the memory.

Derek sighed, taking a seat next to the mess of his best friend. “I don’t think she meant it like that. The situation was still dangerous and you were putting yourself at risk.” Derek said. Spencer wanted to cry.

“I know— I know. She said ‘it’s not your responsibility to stay with me anymore’ — I don’t— I can’t—” Spencer couldn’t articulate the emotions swamping his mind. Everything was overwhelming, every time he closed his eyes he saw you on the floor in a puddle of deep red blood, anytime his fingers remained still for too long it was like he could still feel your pulse running flat against them.

“Breathe.” Derek reminded as Spencer got himself worked up.

“I lost her— I lost her.” Spencer shook his head as the words came out, his hands pulling to his face to rub over his eyes, maybe as to hide the way they’d begun to water, maybe to feel anything besides the heat of his cheeks.

Derek sat up a little straighter to rub Spencer’s shoulder, “Shes okay. They said she will be fine. They just want to look over her for a while. She was in a tough surgery, I don’t know much about hospitals but I’m pretty sure being in the ICU means shes getting all the care she needs to recover better, and faster.” Derek tried to comfort.

“Its- No- I already lost her Derek. I was an idiot and I didn’t say anything — I didn’t say anything because I was scared of losing her and i lost her anyways.” He rambled, an overwhelming force of regret lingering in every word he gasped out.

“Your breakup? I thought that was mutual?” Derek furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Spencer wanted to laugh, because technically it was. Technically they had both agreed, technically this is what he wanted as well.

He just wanted you.

“She wanted space— I thought.. I thought everything would be okay. Then she suggested we break up while things are still good enough for us to end on good terms and be friends. I just — I didn’t want to lose her; I wanted her to be happy and in my life so I didn’t say anything.. I- I settled for being friends because it meant — I thought it meant i still had her” Spencer was a mess and it was evident in the stammer of his words in the midst of his ramble.

“You don’t think you do?” Derek asked, Spencer shook his head as he brought his hand down to rub gently over his chin and bottom lip, a shaky breath leaving his lip’s. “I think you do.. I mean everyone does. You two still act like you’re together.” Derek said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Spencer sighed, “Thats just— Thats how it was before we started dating. Sometimes it feel’s like we are still together.” Spencer mumbled, Derek opened his mouth to speak, but Spencer cut him off. “Shes going to wake up, alone. Her family is in a different state and I’m not allowed to see her? I- This is bullshit.”

“Just say you’re her husband” Emily said, catching both of the boys off guard, they hadn’t heard her approaching. Spencer lifted his gaze from the ground to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. Any other time, if it was for any other person he would probably go over how that went against so many rules, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Not when it came to you.

He broke protocol. He wondered how many times that had happened today as he sat beside you, his hand on of yours, thumb gently running over your knuckles as you laid still unconscious on the bed. He paid attention to the beeping of the machine, the rhythm of your heartbeat, making sure it stayed consistent like his life depended on it — like your life depended on it.

You mumbled something, causing his gaze to break away from the screen to your face, watching it twist slightly. Your eyes remaining closed, then your hand twisted to interlink your fingers with his. You were evidently in pain.

“Hey- Hey don’t move too much. Do you want me to get your nurse? They can give you some different meds” Spencer ushered gently, leaning closer to the bed as you stirred awake. He wasn’t sure if your lengthy amount of time spent unconscious was purely because of the antiseptic leaving your system or also the need for sleep but he was glad you were awake.

“No” You rasped out. Whatever medicine they had been pumping you with since you got out of surgery did its job. You weren’t necessarily in pain, just uncomfortable. Even with your eyes closed you could feel the brightness of the white hospital lights. You knew where you were.

Spencer squeezed your hand gently, making you now very aware that he was holding your hand. “What the fuck happened?” You huffed out, voice groggy and full of confusion. You knew where you were, you knew it was something that happened on the case, you knew you were stabbed, but everything after the knife made contact with your abdomen was a blur in your memory.

“You were stabbed.” He stated. You opened your eyes to glare at him, “Yeah- Spencer, no shit.” You shook your head, he smiled. “I just— Is everyone else okay?” You asked.

He nodded. Derek and Emily had saved all the victims and the unsub was in custody, he explained that to you softly, mapping out every detail so you could make it out enough in your mind to satisfy your need to know what was going on.

“Next time can you tell him to do better? This bed sucks” You referenced to the unsub stabbing you, and leaving you alive and uncomfortable. It was a joke. You tried to move without causing yourself any pain over the uncomfortable thin mattress of the hospital bed. Spencer smiled and let out a breathy half hearted laugh.

“I’ll be sure to let him know” He returned your playful tone but it was heavier, quieter. It was filled with something more, something unsaid. His eyes dropped from your to back to your hands that were twined together, rubbing his thumb gently over the webbing of your own.

You tilted your head slightly, “What’s wrong?” You asked, it didn’t take a genius to read Spencer. You had memories the is and out’s of his head, or you thought you did. You knew enough.

“I thought I lost you.” He said, shaking his head slightly. His voice was so quiet and filled with guilt. “We broke up and.. because of what? Because we didn’t want to lose each other— I almost lost you.” His words held so much gravity it felt like it had all been taken from your surroundings and you were floating on everything left unsaid and unfinished.

“But you didn’t. Im alive.” You smiled playfully. He said your name, serious, showing he wasn’t playing around about this, that it went further than just this situation. You sighed, and shook your head. There were only so many jokes you could make to downplay the weight of the space between you.

“Okay. We broke up.” You mumbled, looking at him. “Because things were weird and it was too much and if things kept going then if we ended later it wouldn’t be on good terms and then we wouldn’t be able to be friends and thats horrible for everyone” You said, recapping your mutual decision to break up.

“Why do you do that?” He asked, squinting his eyes as he looked up at you.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Do what?” There was a number of things he could pull you up on, your avoidance, your jokes, your way of downplaying everything and anything.

“Plan the end of things when they have hardly started. You were planning a breakup for a relationship that was doing perfectly fine. You needed space, I gave you space, then you decided you wanted to break up? Why?” He huffed out.

You furrowed your eyebrows further at his words, but he was right. Of course he was right. “You said you felt the same.” You mumbled, maybe if he had called you on your bullshit a month ago things would be different and you would’ve worked things out, you two would be together and maybe everything would be different. You also knew it wasn’t his responsibility to try and understand emotions you couldn’t comprehend or communicate to him.

“I didn’t want space, I didn’t want to break up — but I didn’t want to lose you all together.” He admitted. You suddenly felt the wind knock out of your chest. You wondered if the way your heart beat increased showed on the monitor, which seemed all too revealing.

“You didn’t say that.” You muttered.

He sat up a little straighter, not letting go of your hand, his fingers stayed tangled with your own. “Would it have changed anything if i did?” His voice was quiet, as if a question that didn’t need an answer.

“It was going.. too fast” You huffed. The relationship did go fast, but maybe it was because the two of you spent way too many years in this flirty banter phase before either of you actually made a move; maybe because you were both already so comfortable with one another.

“We could have slowed it down.” He said, rebutting.

“And if that didn’t work? If it was all just too much? Then we argue and we end on bad terms and then not only is it awkward for everyone at work but then we can’t even be friends” You repeated your point, the fear engraved in your mind.

“What if it did work?” He shut you up with his point, before he continued. “What if it did work and then everything was fine. What if you told me when things are getting too much or overwhelming you and we work together to fix those issues so we don’t end at all.”

“That’s optimistic.” You mumbled sarcastically. Everything he was saying made sense, everything he was saying was ideally how a relationship would go, but it wasn’t as simple as that for you. You couldn’t help the way your mind thought the worst.

Spencer huffed shaking his head, “You’re stubborn.” He said. And he never let you forget it.

“Im realistic.” You resorted, but you weren’t: You hyper fixated on everything that could go wrong and got yourself out of those situations before giving anything a chance to work out itself.

“You’re an idiot. And I love you.” Spencer exhaled. It wasn’t a crazy love confession because you knew this. He made it known everyday. Even everyday you were broken up. He didn’t need to hide it. “Can you give us a chance? A proper chance without planning our breakup before theres any actual reason for it, please.” He mumbled, half playfully and half so serious.

You considered his words. Honestly your last thought before falling unconscious was the fear that you would die without Spencer knowing how much you loved him, how much regret you lived with for the state you had got yourself into with him, the fear you had of not having him in some way, none of these thoughts you could voice aloud when dying.

“Okay.” You settled.

“Okay?” He asked, repeating it back as if he didn’t believe you. You nodded, repeating it again. He breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Okay good, because everyone on this floor thinks I’m your husband and it would’ve been really awkward if you just rejected me.”

[prinvessdior]

Three times you ask Kinich for something and the one time he asks for something.

tags: first person soz, bff! Mualani, I forgot ab Ajaw lol, y/n has a vision, established relationship, first kiss, just cute as hell, ft. me trying to write romantic tension.

wc: 3.6k

a/n: idk,, i think he needs more fics but yes crossposted on ao3 still editing as well

feel free to leave me req or msgs for any charc <3!

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

I think this was the fifth time I had water up my nose this afternoon. Or maybe it was the sixth, definitely. My nose and throat burned as I gasped for air above the water. My surfboard flung up beside me with another slap of water to my face. I hoisted myself back up to sit over my borrowed board. Mualani let me borrow one of her old ones from childhood. Since I'd never been able to surf. I wrung out my hair over my shoulder. "This is so hard," I whined to Mualani who padded over on her own board over to me.

Mualani only laughed, laying down on her stomach, "You're doing fine for a beginner." I doubted it. "Keep practicing, maybe you could finally convince Kinich to come to swim." 

I snorted and rolled my eyes, "Yeah like that'll happen."  

Mualani giggled, "He's a lost cause. Maybe if you asked him nicely, he might change his mind," she teased, sending me a look with a knowing smile. 

"I don't think a simple 'please' will do the trick," I retorted, paddling my board backward in the shallows. "He'd probably just come up with some excuse like 'I don't want to get my clothes wet' or something, and then go back to what he was doing," I grumbled.

Mualani snickered. "He can be such a diva sometimes. It's like he's scared to have any fun. I don’t know how you can date a guy like that."

She was being dramatic. He wasn’t that bad. I’ve known practically everyone since I was a kid, I know the ins and outs. Kinich just.. more so liked to keep to himself. I didn’t mind it though it really seemed like we had just become really good friends now even after putting a relationship title on us. 

"Though I'm sure he'd do anything you asked," Mualani says with a nod

I quickly looked away.

"Don't be ridiculous," I mumbled, "Kinich doesn't listen to anyone, let alone me." I quickly looked away.

Mualani gave me a knowing smile. "Oh come on, don't pretend you haven't noticed the way he looks at you. That boy is absolutely smitten with you."

I tried to feign indifference, though my heart thumped in my chest. "He doesn't look at me any differently than he looks at everyone else."

Mualani raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious? He's practically drooling every time you're around. And he always insists on helping you with anything you need, no matter how menial."

I shifted uncomfortably in my waterlogged swimsuit. "That's just who he is. He's like that with everyone. He's just...a good guy." I don’t think I wanted to spill my guts with my best friend about my relationship just yet.

Mualani rolled her eyes. "You can be so clueless sometimes. Trust me on this."

I huffed, pushing my soaked hair out of my eyes. "Even if you're right, which you're not, I doubt he'd ever actually do anything about it. Kinich is too aloof to make a move."

Mualani smirked. "That's where I think you're wrong. I've seen the way he stares at you when you're not looking. That boy has it bad. If you ask me, he's just been waiting for the right moment.”

I narrowed my eyes with a laugh, "Sure, and dendro slimes will fly someday. Besides, I can't even imagine Kinich acting all romantic. He's too sarcastic and quippy for mushiness."

Mualani shrugged. "Maybe you should try giving him a hint then. See if he responds. I know he'd be all over you in a heartbeat if he thought he had a chance."

"I don't know, Mualani...he's always been so closed off. It wouldn’t feel natural."

Mualani grinned. "Well, you could always try being a bit more... flirtatious. Give him some nonverbal cues to let him know you're interested. A touch on the arm, a smile, a compliment, something like that. See how he responds."

"Yeah, nope," I said with a determined nod, I'd give up my pyro vision back to our archon before doing something as embarrassing as that.

“C'mon! What’s the harm in it?”

I gave Mualani a pointed look, “The harm is we’ve only been together three months.” 

Mualani groaned, “But you’ve been friends for years!” She emphasized by splashing me with water.

I splashed her back, “I don’t expect anything from Kinich, Lani, I’m fine with what we have now.” 

“Yeah, but, did you ask him that? Maybe he wants to be closer with you.” 

Okay, yeah maybe I hadn’t thought about that. I paused mid-splash attack. “Oh.” 

Another splash of water to my face, as I tipped sideways losing balance sitting on my surfboard. I tipped straight into the water making another splash for the seventh time. 

Mualani was laughing when I arose from the surface. “Just try it. It’s not like he’ll outright reject you.” 

I gave Mualani a glare, “I’m going to go change. I’m done learning today.” 

“Ouchie, you really know how to burn me.” Mualani sighs with a dramatic expression. 

“Insanity.” I mumbled padding back to the shore with my best friend trailing behind me. Still making dramatic plans about how to get my boyfriend to be more open. I was not listening as she rambled all the way back to my house. 

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

I liked living right beside the hot springs. Even the ones that weren’t heated were usually the ones I gravitated towards. Given that Natlan was already hot, I never remembered my normal body temperature being this hot before I received my Pyro vision. 

But right now, I think I was jealous of Cyro Vision users. Kachina had requested my help near her tribe. She wanted to collect flowers among herbs, and fruits for the traveler to help her gain enough confidence to enter into the night warden wars. 

But it was too hot, and I was craving a bath. Being drenched in sweat was horrible. I didn’t want to complain in front of Kachina so I continued to follow her, we’d strayed far from The Children of The Echo’s tribe. 

“Do you think this is enough?” I asked the smaller girl once we’d stopped near a stream. 

“Uh-! I-.. I think so!” Kachina reached her arms up to take the fruits nestled in my bag. I happily let her take it as I took a seat near the stream for a much-needed breather. 

“Great, I’m just gonna.. sit down for a while.” 

Kachina gave me a nod with a bright smile. Which in turn made me smile. I felt like a big sister whenever I was with Kachina. It made it better that she was so smart and easy to talk to. I closed my eyes as a gust of wind helped cool my sweltering face. 

Kachina sat down beside me, dipping her toes into the water. “Thank you for helping me today, I really appreciate it.”

I smiled, grateful for the respite. “Of course, Kachina. It’s the least I can do. The Traveler did so much for you.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, they really did. I wouldn’t have had the courage to join the Night Warden Wars without their support.”

We sat by the stream, the cool water lapping at my feet, and my mind drifted back to what Mualani had said the day before. Could it really be that simple? Just say please? I found myself lost in a whirlwind of emotions as the cool water of the stream rippled around me. 

“Y/n? Y/n!” Kachina’s voice broke through my reverie, pulling me back to the present.

”Huh.” I blinked, realizing she was talking to someone. I turned to see Kinich standing there, looking a bit awkward but smiling warmly. 

“Hey, Y/n,” he greeted, his voice a little uncertain. “Are you okay?”

I forced a smile, trying to shake off my embarrassment. “Oh, hey, Kinich. Yeah, I’m fine. Just, you know, dying of the heat,” I joked, fanning myself dramatically.

He chuckled, his eyes softening. “Yeah, it’s pretty brutal today.” He turned to me and narrowed his eyes. “Should you really be out here for much longer? You don’t look so good.”

Before I could respond, Kachina’s face fell, and she quickly apologized. “Oh no, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you weren’t feeling well. I shouldn’t have taken you so far.”

I shook my head, giving her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Kachina. I wanted to come out and help you. Really.”

She still looked worried, but I could see she was trying to believe me. I took a deep breath, deciding albeit hesitantly that if I were to test Mualani’s theory. Any time would be the best time “Kinich, could you please get me some water from the stream? I think it would help me cool down.”

To my surprise, he didn’t hesitate. Without a single sarcastic comment or playful tease, he nodded and walked over to the stream. The next thing I felt was the cool, wet rag on my forehead, and sighed in relief. Kinich's gentle touch was comforting as he helped me sit back down. My body was still cooling off from Natlan’s scorching heat.

"Thank you, Kinich," I said, looking up at him with a small smile.

He smiled back, though it was more a twitch of lips upwards, his eyes warm. "It was no problem at all. Just take it easy for a bit."

I nodded, leaning back into the grass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kachina watching us. She seemed to be trying hard not to look awkward, and I couldn't help but find it endearing.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" Kachina asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I think so," I replied, giving her a reassuring smile. "Just a bit... overwhelmed, I guess."

Kachina nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "You two are really cute together," she blurted out, then immediately looked like she regretted it.

Kinich chuckled softly, and I felt my own cheeks flush. "Thanks, Kachina," I said, trying to ease her embarrassment. 

She smiled, looking a bit more relaxed. "Well, if you need anything, I'm here to help."

"Thanks," I said, appreciating her kindness. "I think I'll be okay now."

Kinich gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "Just rest for a bit. I'll be right here."

I nodded, feeling a little lightheaded. Not from the heat though. As I leaned back, feeling the coolness of the rag on my forehead, my mind wandered to Mualani’s words. Maybe she was right.

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

A couple of days later, I found myself in Xilonen’s shop, surrounded by shelves filled with various trinkets and artifacts. The air was filled with the scent of herbs and old parchment, a comforting reminder of the past. Xilonen and I were busy organizing her shop, a task that felt both familiar and soothing.

“Thanks for helping out, Y/n,” Xilonen said, her voice warm. “I’ve been meaning to get this place in order for ages.”

“No problem,” I replied, placing a stack of scrolls on a nearby shelf. “It’s nice to catch up. We haven’t had much time together since the war ended.”

She nodded a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Yeah, things have been so hectic. But it’s good to see you. How have you been holding up?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my tone light. “I’ve been okay. Just trying to figure things out, you know?”

Xilonen smiled knowingly. “I get it. It’s been a strange time for all of us. But I’m glad you’re here. It feels like old times.”

We continued to work in comfortable silence for a while, the rhythm of our movements almost meditative. As we sorted through a box of ancient artifacts, Xilonen suddenly looked up, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So, I heard a little rumor that you and Kinich are dating now. Is it true?” Probably from Mualani...

I felt my face heat up slightly but nodded. “Yeah, it’s true.”

Xilonen grinned. “I knew it! How’s that going? I mean, considering how Kinich… is.”

I chuckled, understanding what she meant. “It’s going fine, actually. He’s been really sweet and supportive. It’s still new, but we’re figuring it out.”

She nodded, her expression softening. “That’s good to hear. Kinich can be ahh.. how do I put this? Blunt? but he has a good heart.”

“Yeah, he does,” I agreed, feeling a warm glow at the thought of him. “He’s been really great.”

we continued to clean, the door to the shop opened, and Kinich walked in. His eyes immediately found mine, and he smiled warmly Again, just the hint of his lips turning at the corners. “Hey, Y/n,” he greeted, then turned to Xilonen. “Xilonen.”

“Hey, Kinich,” I replied, feeling a flutter of happiness at seeing him.

Xilonen gave him a playful look. “Didn’t expect to see Y/n here, huh?”

Kinich chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, I was a bit surprised. What’s going on?”

Xilonen rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, so I can’t see my friend for a day? I asked Y/n to help me clean up since it’s been a while.”

Kinich nodded, looking a bit awkward. “Right, of course. Well, it’s good you both are here. I actually came by to let you know that someone from The Children of the Echos commissioned me for a project, so I don’t have much time to chat.”

“That’s great, What kind of project?” genuinely wanting to know

He shrugged, a small smile on his face. “It’s a bit of a mystery for now, but I’ll fill you in later.”

Xilonen smirked. “Always keeping secrets, huh?”

Kinich laughed. “Something like that. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. I’ll catch up with you both later.”

It was the perfect time to test Mualani's theory further. I spotted an item on a high shelf that I couldn't reach and decided to ask Kinich for help.

"Kinich, could you please help me get that down?" I called out, pointing to a random scroll.

He stopped talking to Xilonen almost instantly and came up behind me. "Sure, what do you need?" he asked, his voice so, so close to my ear.

I pointed at the scroll again. "That one, right up there."

Without hesitation, Kinich reached over my head and grabbed it, his arm brushing against mine. He handed it to me with a smile. "Here you go."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a bit flustered by how quickly he had responded.

"No problem," he replied. "I have to go now, but I'll see you later." He turned to Xilonen and me, giving us both a quick nod. "Goodbye, Xilonen. Bye, Y/n."

"Bye, Kinich," we both said in unison as he left the shop.

As the door closed behind him, Xilonen turned to me with a curious look. "What was that? I've never seen Kinich act like that before."

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I don't know. Maybe he's just being extra helpful today."

Xilonen raised an eyebrow. "Extra helpful, huh? Well, whatever it is, it's definitely interesting."

I smiled,  Maybe Mualani was onto something after all.

“I should get going too,” I said, giving Xilonen a hug. “Thanks for today. It was really nice to catch up.”

"Oh yeah totally! I can handle the rest here. Also, come by anytime,” she replied, hugging me back. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I won’t,” I promised, smiling as I headed out the door.

◣──•~❉᯽❉~•──◢

I found myself back at Mualani’s place, surfboard in hand and ready for another lesson. Mualani was determined to teach me how to surf, and I was equally determined to make her proud, even if it meant a few more wipeouts.

“Hey, ‘Lani!” I greeted her, adjusting my swimsuit as I approached. “Ready for another round?”

Mualani grinned, her eyes always sparkling with excitement. “Always! But first, tell me have you been messing with Kinich? He’s been super quiet. More than usual.”

I laughed, setting my surfboard down. “Really? That’s funny. I’ve been testing your theory. It’s been interesting, to say the least. I really don’t think he’s reacting. He’s doing things any normal boyfriend would do.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “You absolutely need to keep it up. Yesterday he looked like he was going to explode.”

I snorted a laugh Mualani clapped her hands together. “Alright, enough talk. Let’s hit the waves!”We headed down to the beach, the sound of the ocean filling the air.

As we paddled out, Mualani and I chatted about everything and nothing, enjoying the easy flow of conversation. Suddenly, someone from the tribe called out to Mualani, needing her assistance with something urgent.

Mualani sighed, giving me an apologetic look. “Duty calls. Just focus on balancing on the board for now, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Got it!” I called, watching as she paddled back to the shore.

Left to my own devices, I paddled out to the shallow part of the water. I stood up on the board, feeling the gentle sway of the ocean beneath me. Balancing was tricky, but I was determined to get the hang of it. I took a deep breath, focusing on keeping my stance steady.

The sun was warm on my skin, and the sound of the waves was soothing.

My balance wavered, and I tumbled into the water with a splash. As I surfaced, sputtering and wiping the saltwater from my eyes, I heard a familiar voice.

"Having trouble there?" Kinich asked, a teasing smile on his face.

I felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "Maybe just a little," I admitted, trying to laugh it off.

He chuckled, wading over to me. "Here, let me help you." He reached out, steadying me as I stood up in the water. His hands were firm but gentle, and I felt a bit more stable with his support.

"Thanks," I mumbled reeling from the taste of saltwater, feeling self-consciousness.

"No problem," he replied, still holding my surfboard, "Everyone falls sometimes. It's part of the learning process."

I nodded, appreciating his encouragement. "Yeah, I guess so."

He handed me the board, his eyes warm with amusement. "Just keep at it. You'll get the hang of it."

The sun glinted off the water as I turned towards Kinich, curiosity, and anxiety bubbling with the ripples of the water.

“Kinich,” I called out, voice catching the wind.

“Would you help me with this, please? I mean, with keeping my balance on the board?”

His gaze softened, and without a word, he nodded. With practiced ease, he dropped the surfboard into the water, and it settled with a small splash. Approaching me, he placed his hands gently around my waist, lifting me as if I weighed nothing.

My heart beat wildly, like drums against my chest—not just from the thrill, but from the intimate touch. Kinich’s hands lingered longer than necessary as he steadied me on the board, fingers warm against her skin through the thin fabric of my swimsuit. His grip was firm, yet tender, as though he was acutely aware of his strength and its effect.

“This good?” he asked, voice low, almost a whisper. It sent shivers down my spine, as I nodded, unable to find my voice. So instead I nodded, slowly.

Once Kinich was convinced Ihad found my balance, he slowly let go. For a few moments, I managed to stay upright, it was my triumph. But the waves had other plans. The board wobbled violently beneath my feet, and with a startled yelp, I lost my footing. In the blink of an eye, I grabbed onto Kinich, pulling him down with me. We both plunged into the cool embrace of the ocean. Breaking the surface, I wiped the water from my eyes, only to be met with the sight of a thoroughly drenched and disheveled Kinich. My initial shock dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

“I am so sorry!” I gasped between laughs, noticing the way his usually calm demeanor was replaced with a mixture of surprise a cute scowl. “You look... upset.”

Kinich’s expression softened, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. “Upset with you? Never.”

His eyes held mine, a glint of mischief playing in their sunsets. “Actually,” he continued, his voice low and sincere, “since you’ve been asking so politely, I thought I might as well ask the same... Can I please kiss you?”

Time seemed to pause as his words settled over. The world faded around us, leaving just the two of us in that perfect, sunlit moment. I barely managed a nod.

Kinich's lips met mine with a tenderness that took my breath away. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant as if he was savoring the moment, afraid it might slip away too soon. His hands, still resting on my hips, tightened slightly, pulling closer but never forcefully. 

I felt the warmth of his touch through the cool water, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my revealed skin. The world around us seemed to fade, leaving only the sensation of his lips on mine and the steady rhythm of our breaths mingling. 

As the kiss deepened, Kinich's hand moved to cradle my face, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheekbone. It was a gesture of pure affection, a silent promise of his care and respect. I responded in kind, my own hands finding their way to his shoulders, feeling the strength and warmth beneath my fingertips.

When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine, heavy breaths mingling in the space between us. Kinich's eyes searched mine, a soft smile playing on his lips. Before he frowned.

"Now please stop saying please," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves. "I can't take it anymore."

[jinxthequeergirl]

The Ol switcharoo (pt4)

Stan x reader/ ford x reader

Summary: You journey into stanfords mind for the sake of the shack when you learn more than you probably should have

Warning: none Look, I'm trying to lay down more romance. The stakes are gonna get raised soon. We can't keep tiptoeing guys

Also sorry if it feels a little choppy and all over the place

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~

Stanford had been distant a lot more than you would like to have admitted over the past few weeks. Sure, you'd get the kids together, and all of you would hang out and have your own little adventures, but more often than not, you couldn't find him before you followed your new adopted great niece and nephew out the door for the next great adventure or activity for the summer.

You loved going out with them, taking them to lunch, or to shop Dipper even more recently, inviting you to monster hunt again. But when you weren't invited and the kids went on their own journey, you found the house was only quiet.

In the what seemed to be rare and far in-between days stan was with the three of you, you felt a great wave of peace wash over you. The four of you laughing in the car after narrowly escaping one of stans crazy ideas, sitting with him on the back porch, watching the kids run around.

You felt a buzz inside you when you sat next to him, watching him laugh at dippers water balloon hitting the ground without a pop. You loved your routine with him before the kids arrived. It seemed like that was becoming all you knew.

But the shack felt different with laughter filling it up. And if you realized it or not, those two kids were bringing you closer to Stanford when he hung around. You took a deep breath and scooted in closer to Stanford, his arm instinctively wrapped around the back of the couch, letting you fill as much space next to him as you wished.

"I can't believe this is my life now. I don't know what i did to deserve this." He said, looking down at you as you now watched the twins in the yard. "Everything happens for a reason, remember?"

"I guess so." His hand fell softly onto your shoulder, snuggling you closer. "Look out!" You and Stanford both jumped up as one of the water balloons landed where you were once sitting.

"Can't a guy get any peace around here!?" You laugh at him as he runs out into the yard demanding a balloon.

The feelings washed away, knowing he'd be hiding by tonight.

He was right, though. You couldn't believe this was your life as of right now.

"Y/n?"

You hummed in response as you cleaned dippers cut. "Would you say your feelings for Grunkle stan are...of the romantic kind?" Mable asked from right beside her brother her own adventure wounds needing to be rented too.

"Mable!" Dipper yelped, knocking her over with a nudge. You laughed out loud at her question. "Sorry..sorry." You cleared your throat. "Excuse me. Mable, what would make you ask something like that?"

"Oh c'moonnn as a love expert-"

"Your twelve-"

"I can see how you and grunkle stan look at eachother, you've been friends for years, and you've really never felt anything more than friendship for him?"

You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought about her question. "I guess maybe a few years ago... but things were different back then, and I never knew how he felt about me. Besides, so much time has passed that I'm sure that old fart feels anything other than tired anymore." Mable jumped to her feet and smashed your cheeks together.

"Y/n it is my mission as a matchmaker and love expert of gravity falls. I make it my mission to get you and my grunkle together!"

"Mable, why do you even care? Grunkle stan has shown no interest in anything other than money since we've been here."

"Dippers got a point." You say pulling tables small hands from your face. "Besides, I'm not taking love advice from the girl who dated little Gideon not too long ago."

Mable's face grew red, and she pulled the neck of her sweater up. "Ugh, don't remind me." You chuckled again, refocusing the attention to the wounds on each kid as Dipper went back to explaining what had happened in the first place.

You'd gone the next few weeks thinking about mables question. Did you still have feelings for stanford?

It wasn't something you thought much about. You two just existed with eachother nothing ever really came out of it since you were young. Besides, you'd never make a move unless you knew his exact feeling for you. He'd been so secretive recently that the only way For that to happen, you'd have to get inside his mind to find anything like that out.

Of course that was almost impossible.

"Y/N THERES A LITTLE YELLOW GUY TRUING TO TAKE OVER STANS MIND WE NEED YOUR HELP DIPPERS GOING TO TAKE US IN THERE COME ON COME ON!"

Of course maybe you spoke to soon.

"Mable slow down! What's going on!?" You asked as she dragged you by the sleeve into the family room where Stanford sat sleeping.

"So like we saw little Gideon in the woods and poof a little yellow man appeared and he made a deal with him to go inside stans mind to get the code to the safe that Mr pines keeps the deed in." Soos explained in one long breath you could see his face Turing a strange shade of red and violet.

"Wha-"

"No time we need to go now before it's to late!" Mable cried before you could even think to ask for clarification or any follow up questions.

You followed along with what Dipper told you to do, and you watched as he read from an oddly familiar book.

You make a note to ask him about it later.

Your thoughts were cut off as dippers chanting got louder, and before you knew it, the world had melted away from you, and you were suddenly sitting in a patch of grey grass.

"Wow! This is stans mind?" Mable said, hopping up and looking at the grey landscape before you.

You pushed yourself and looked around jaw on the floor. "I've done some pretty crazy things in my day, but this is beyond me..."

"Thanks for coming along y/n!" Mable said.

"Of course! You know you can count on me for anything, kids."

"OK, we need to keep an eye out for the triangle guy." Dipper stated as you headed twoard the shack.

"Yea, look put for the triangle guy!" You jumped at the voice that appeared out if no were surprised to see it belonged to exactly what the kids and soos had said.

"It's him it's the guy!" Soos said in alarm pointing at the glowing shape.

"You leave our grunkles mind alone, you isosollies monster!" Mable shouted as she charged at him. "Mable!" You and Dipper shouted each holding out an arm to grab her.

You watched in horror as the triangle swallowed her up and waited a minute before spitting her back out into your arms.

"Stan's family, it's good to finally meet you! Some more than others!" He said, floating particularly close to you as he said so. You scowled at him and shielded Mable from him. "Names bill cipher."

"Get out of stans mind! You have no business here!" Dipper shouted.

"Trust me, kid! You're the only one who should be getting out of here your way over your heads." His one winked as he shot a finger gun twoard Dipper shooting ahole through him. "I'm gonna find that code and and you're not going to stop me!"

He flew away, leaving a triangle shape hole in the shack.

"We gotta get that code before that freak does." You said pausing to giggle as Mable reached her arm through the hole in dippers chest.

"Mable!" You coughed and put on a serious face. "Alright, kids...and soos.. let's go."

You lead the way into the shack of stans mind your eyes darting from door to door each labeled a different thing.

Fears, hopes, etc.

"Look! Stans memories!" Soos pointed out. You all ran into the hall watching memories play out all around you. "Quick, let's split up and cover more ground."

You turned to open a door but the mables' hand caught yours. "Look what I found!" She squealed with giddy. "You found the code? Already?" She shook her head and dragged you out down the memory hall and too a door with a heart carved into the wood. Signage warning against opening the door nearly covering every inch.

"What is this?" You asked the girl beside you. "Look for yourself." She lifted up a "get lost" sign to reveal the doors true label.

"Y/ns memories."

"Oh Mable I dunno...we should really be looking for the code."

"Oh, c'mon, you said it yourself that you never really knew what he felt for you it wouldn't hurt to look!"

"Yes, Mable, it would! the shack is at steak-"

Before you could continue, Mable had opened the door and pushed you in. "Face your fears y/n! Face your emotions!" She slammed the door shut on you. "Don't worry y/n we'll find the code before bill does, I'll come back for you when we do!"

you huffed and stood up dusting yourself off, this was ridicules you knew how Stanford felt about you you've known each other for what felt like your whole life. Besides you told Mable already if anything was to happen it would have by now. your hand grasped the door handle as you prepared to chase the twins and Soos down.

"Congratulations!" you heard a voice say from behind you. you turned to see one of the many doors cracked open. despite your better judgment to go after the kids you went straight for the door pulling it open. to see your wedding day.

well, your fake Vegas wedding. stan stood at the counter with the cashier in a dinky thrift shop on the outskirts of Vegas itself, waiting for you. "oh right..." you mumble to yourself watching your shared memory through Stans eyes.

"I'm sure you're very excited about the wedding." Stanford shrugged. "Trust me, I've been married a few times...this ain't nothing new for me." you frowned a little, you weren't sure why, you knew that's how he'd felt and it wasn't a real wedding. "Stanford! Look at this!!!" you yelled excitedly to him pushing open a dressing room curtain behind him.

you excitedly spun around in the wedding outfit you had picked out, you were so much younger, it suspired you too see yourself.

you watched Stanford's face flush upon seeing you his eyes fixated on you jaw almost on the floor. you didn't remember him looking at you like that. "wow you look...you look amazing!" he said rubbing the back of his neck trying to find the right words. you squealed in a pitch similar to the one Mable had done earlier before shutting the curtain again. "you were saying this wasn't something new?" the cashier asked raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"listen between you and me this whole Vegas wedding isn't anything new for me...they're corny, cheap and lousy all things y/n doesn't deserve any of that stuff, and I don't know why I'm telling you of all people, but I've known y/n for a while now the way she makes me feel isn't like how anyone has made me feel before I could never tell any of this too her, I've ruined to many relationships I could risk losing her in my life so try to act nonchalant about these types of thing, don't want to give myself away you know." the cashier stared at him unsure of how to react to all the information dumped onto him.

"here's 20 bucks to forget everything I said." he said sliding money across the counter.

you shut the door with a smile before looking down the long hallway. you crept over to another one. opening the door only to see a normal night you asleep on his shoulder as he continued to talk about the movie that was playing without realizing. it took him a whole monologue before realizing you had passed out. he leaned over careful not to wake you but enough to see you where sleeping.

he took a deep breath before talking some more. "Here goes nothing, y/n you've been with me through thick and thin when no one had my back you where there...I guess what I'm trying to say is y/n I...I think I have feeing's for you...you've made me an honest man in some ways...and.." you jumped upon hearing screaming.

"Oh no Kids!" you took off running swinging the door open and running down the hallway running past memories trying to find the kids. "Dipper!? Mable? Soos!?"

"Dipper!-"

"This here's a-"

"Stan Vac-"

"Stanley do something-" you could no longer hear the kids let alone see them in all the noise of Stanford's memories. you began running out of the memories hall in hopes you'd find them somewhere else. "Dipper!? Mab-" the wind was knocked out of you as you and dipper crashed right into each other. "Y/n! there you are!"

"Dipper you're ok! where is your sister and Soos!?"

"Bills got them! Don't worry I have a plan!" you followed dipper through Stanford's mind following his exact plan, you never even thought about what you could do in ones mind, flying and giant water guns didn't never even cross your mind.

"Hey one eye!" you and dipper grabbed bills attention as you floated up to his level neon colored squirt guns in hand. "WHAT!?"

"Dipper! Y/N! how are you doing that?"

"This is a mindscape you can do anything you imagine in here!" you explained."who told you that? dont liten to them!"

"ready dipper!?"

"ready y/n! aim and..."

"Fire!" you both shot your water guns at bills eye causing him to cry out in pain, you watched Mable conjure herself kitten fists and launched them at bill.

"Now think of a portal out of stans mind!" the four of you shut your eyes and all thought as hard as you could as a portal opened up under bill. "No No No wait! wait! wait! ENOUGH!"

you all flew back as the space around you was now a white void. "you know you're all a lot smarter than you look! I'll let you go for now, you might prove to be useful especially you y/n."

you scrunched your nose at him. "but remember there will come a day when everything you care about will change! until then I'll be watching you!"

there was a bright flash and he was gone. "well that wasn't ominous.." you said "we did it though! He left!" dipper cheered.

before you knew it Stan woke up and you were all wakening up in the Livingroom. and for a moment everything was normal again. "Ugh I had the weirdest dream." stan said rubbing his head. "You're ok!" you exclaimed running over to hug him and planting a quick kiss on his lips. his face heated up as you did so and before you knew it the kids had joined the hug.

a few hours later you'd gotten the kids to go to bed and found Stanford sitting on the back porch. "care for a drink?" you asked offering him a pitty cola he accepted with a smile. and you sat down next to him.

"where have you been?' you asked. a lot had happened today a lot that made you think things over and you decided to start there.

"what do you mean?" he asked with a chuckle. "I've been right here like i always have."

you shook your head. "Most days we can't find you, its been me and the kids or just me in the house, a lot has changed since those two came around most of its been for the better but i didn't think it would drive you away."

he frowned. "do you trust me?"

"Of course." you answered without hesitation.

"I've been working on something i cant tell you what but it's important. and I'll tell you what if it bothers you so much, I'll be around more." you smiled.

"good, I miss you." you said bumping into him.

you both chuckled and then there was a beat of silence you looked up at the sky and took a breath. "Stanford."

"Yea?"

"I think...we'll in light of some recent events...Stanford you mean the world to me."

"uh-oh is something wrong? why are you getting all sappy?"

you took another breath and exhaled all the words you were trying to say.

"Stanford pines I think I'm in love with you and I think you feel the same way about me!" you covered your mouth after you spilled it all. and he stared at you in shock. "Y/n...I uh..."

"I know this is random...buy. You know better late than never, right?"

stan stared at you in awe where your eyes sparkling in the starlight. was this really happening to him right now?

"Stanford?" you placed a hand over his when went silent. normally he would jump at an opportunity like this. sweep you off your feet. But as he stared at your hopeful eyes all he could do was wonder how much of what you felt was really for him, Stanley Pines and how much of it was for who you had believed him to be.

"Oh come on Grunkle stan! Take her on a date already!" Mables voice shouted from above you.

"Mable? what are you doing up!?" you shouted standing to your feet to look up at the twins practically hanging out their window. "yea c'mon Grunkle stan!" dipper agreed with his sister.

"Date! Date! date!" the two kids cheered into the night air.

"alright! alright!" stan said trying to shush them.

"y/n...would you do me the honors of going to dinner with me?" you laughed and his heart swelled at your answer. "Of course Stanford pines."

~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~

Taglist!:

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[subcultureblues]

Burnin’ Down The House

Steve finally psyches himself up to ask Eddie out, because really, what’s the worst that could happen? He makes sure everything’s perfect, goes to shoot his shot annnnnnnnd - Eddie’s fucking pissed.

My Secret Santa gift for the lovely @sunflowerharrington for the @steddieexchange (thank you so much to @paradimeshifts7 for the beta!) Sunflower’s fave tropes are : Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Miscommunication, Accidental Love Confessions

So buckle in boys…

———

They’ve been dancing around this for long enough.

It had been three months. Three maddening, excruciating, unbearable months of Steve and Eddie circling each other in this ridiculous, elaborate mating ritual. He had been kind of really hoping Eddie would make the first move; Steve’s new to this, he doesn’t know the protocol!

…But clearly that wasn’t happening.

Three months of smolderingly flirtatious banter, two very revealing conversations with Robin, and one only slightly over-dramatic gay crisis later - and Steve had officially had enough.

“Stop fussing. It’s gonna go great.”

“And if I crash and burn?”

“Which you won’t.”

“Which I won’t,” Steve echoed reluctantly, because by this point Robin had him trained like a prize-winning show pig. “But even if I’m fucking - casanova in cable-knit, if he’s just - not interested, and… he turns me down - “

“Which he won’t.”

“We don’t even know if he -“ Steve snapped. He ran a hand down his face, groaning in awful, self-inflicted agony. “I’m just trying to prepare myself, mentally, for the possibility of failure here. I mean what if - we don’t even know if he’s into guys, Robin.”

Robin snorted.

“Ok fine, and if he is? Doesn’t mean he’s gonna go for… “ Steve looked in the mirror again, still trying to get his hair to fall right. He squinted with an edgy huff.

“Steve,” Robin said in her most long-suffering tone of voice. She smacked her palms against both of his cheeks and squished. “He likes you.”

“Yeaf?” he said, muffled by the contortion of his face and his lips.

Robin nodded solemnly. She opened the car door and stepped one foot onto the driveway of her house.

“We’ve both seen the way he looks at you.” And the thing is, Steve had. When he thought he was being slick. The way his eyes settle on Steve, warm and unhurried. Like he was trying to take it all in. “Frankly the whole starcrossed longing thing - it’s getting old. And on my nerves. Just put that poor, pathetic man out of his misery and kiss him already,” she pleaded.

“Alright! I get it.”

“And I mean, seriously Steve. Honestly. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“No. You’re right.” Steve nodded, gesturing at her. “You’re right.”

Because yeah, she probably was right — which God, Steve hated when she did that...

“I’ll call you when I get home, ok?”

“Can’t wait to hear all about how you two lovestruck idiots finally get it together.” The corner of her mouth twitched and she reached down to reassuringly squeeze his hand on the steering wheel. It helped. A lot, actually.

Robin stepped out, closing the door behind her, then immediately shoved her head back through the open window. Steve opened his mouth to ask what she forgot this time.

“Do not forget to use protection.” She ordered, sounding distinctly like his mother. He took offense, raising his hands with an indignant look.

“I already told you - “

“Yeah, yeah. Your whole master of seduction plan to sweep the Freak off his feet.” She snickered.

“Romance him. Epically,” Steve corrected her. “My plan to epically romance him.”

“You’re not fooling anyone Slut Harrington.” Steve rolled his eyes. Robin grinned at him. It managed to calm his nerves enough that he could honestly smile back. “Call me, okay? As soon as you get home. I get to be first to hear the good news.”

“I will.” She started towards the front door. “Oh, and Robin?”

She turned back to him.

“How’s my hair?”

She hung her head in defeat.

“Jesus Christ…”

He pulled up to the Munson’s trailer just after sunset and honked when he parked outside. After maybe a minute, Eddie came sprinting out of the trailer, throwing open the passenger side door and launching himself into the Beemer.

“Go, go, go! The cops are right on our tail!”

“Think we can outrun ‘em?” Steve smiled, very slowly putting the car into reverse to back up and turn around.

“Obviously no. That’s why we have a getaway car, Steve. Keep up.”

“Uh-huh. Alright, outlaw. You got the stuff?”

“Made out like a bandit.” Eddie bounced his eyebrows, swinging an 8 pack of beer from his fingers.

“Eugh. Samuel Adams?” Steve made a face.

“You pay, you pick.” Eddie shrugged unapologetically.

“Fine. I got ice in the cooler back there.” Steve swiveled and braced his hand on the headrest of the passenger seat… and Eddie looked at him. In that way that he does; in subdued glances, furvative, just out of the corner of his eye. In the way that made hope light up like a sparkler in Steve’s chest. He leaned just a little deeper into Eddie’s space, eyes on the road behind them as he reversed the car, trying not to give himself away by grinning too much.

They had planned to head down to the quarry. It was nice, scenic. Perfect for this kind of thing. Steve knew about this one spot, a picnic table that overlooked the water. Real premium makeout real estate.

Honestly, Eddie was kind of ruining the ambiance Steve was trying to set here. He’d left one of his tapes playing from out of the car's open windows. Not loud, but still. They sat together next to the parked car, looking out at the black glass water below. Perched atop the table with their feet on the bench, sipping disgustingly cheap, but cold at least, beer.

If Steve blocks out the distant heavy metal screaming, it could pass pretty convincingly for romantic. The sky had cooperated with him, not a cloud in sight. Just an endless, timeless sea of stars. The moon was waning but bright enough they could see in the dark. But also not so bright it washed out the impression of the Milky Way above them. Still summer - which meant it was brisk but not chilly.

Perfect. Or - at least as close to perfect as Steve could really hope for.

“Ghosts?” Steve was saying, smiling and shaking his head. “Seriously?”

“What - so you’ll buy evil interdimensional wizards and - and demon bats from hell but you draw the line at ghosts?”

“Well, yeah. Difference there - is that I’ve never seen a ghost before,” he said, gesturing with his beer.

“So? That doesn’t mean there aren’t any!” Eddie was talking with his whole body again.

“Sure - maybe. But it does mean I don’t have to think about it,” Steve said, and Eddie threw his head back laughing.

Eddie took another long swing and they settled down, a comfortable quiet setting in. Steve glanced over at Eddie over the rim of his beer. Eddie was looking off into the distance, smiling. It felt… The timing felt right.

Steve set down his can carefully and took a deep breath (he’d popped a mint when they got here, and could only hope it would break through the bitter beer smell). He wiped his hands on his jeans so they for sure wouldn’t be clammy.

He braced a hand on the table behind Eddie’s back. Leaned into his space. Eddie went still, turning his head and blinking at him apprehensively.

“So…” Steve over-enunciated, and Eddie’s eyes immediately flickered down to his lips. It was brief, but Steve clocked it.

Steve smiled, made sure to let Eddie know that yeah, he saw that.

Oh, Steve’s so had this in the bag. He was great at this.

Steve unholstered ol’ reliable - his brightest, most charming smile. The one that always got girls blushing and tucking their hair behind their ears. He could really only hope it’d have the same devastating impact on Eddie.

“Keep looking at me like that Munson - I’m gonna start thinking something crazy.”

“What?”

“That maybe you like what you see….That you’re interested…” Eddie was quiet, studying his face very seriously. Three things for which he’d never been particularly known for. Or particularly good at for that matter. It was kind of intense. Steve slanted his eyes slightly down and to the side, not wanting to be thrown off his game.

Focus, Harrington. You got this. You got this because you’re super cool and smooth and good at this.

“So - come on, what do you say you and me just cut to the chase and go out already?” He said, light and playful.

He glanced back up at Eddie through his lashes and actually, physically, flinched when he saw his expression.

The look in his eyes was ice cold.

“Hey, fuck you, man,” Eddie said, putting a hand on Steve’s chest and shoving him right back out of his personal space. Steve tipped over onto the tabletop. He landed on his opposite hip, catching himself with his elbow. It took a second or two to process as he slowly sat back up.

Eddie’s cheeks flushed red with anger, the upset in his eyes. The way he had already turned his head away, like he didn't want to have to even look at Steve right now. How tense his posture was, sitting there leaning his elbows on his knees. Tapping his sneaker restlessly against the bench.

It left Steve floundering for a good few seconds.

“Yeah. You’re real funny, Harrington, you know that?” Eddie said, as quiet as he was tense.

“I -” Eddie looked over at him expectantly, mouth in an uncomfortably twisted-up frown. Looking like all he wanted in the world right then was for Steve to apologize or laugh it off. Or, more likely, to just fucking drop it. And Steve still hadn’t said anything.

Because to be honest, Steve was having a hard time believing it. Sure, he had been nervous. But like, - not that nervous.

He probably wouldn’t’ve had the nerve to put it all on the line if he wasn’t pretty damn sure the feeling was mutual.

It was just… The way Eddie always tried to rile him up. Make him laugh. Pull his pigtails. Like he couldn’t get enough of Steve’s attention. How he’d go way out of his way for Steve only to go all nonchalant and pink, play it cool when Steve tried to thank him for it. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Even those times when it was. And then there was always that distinctive tension. That undeniable charge.

Look. Steve Harrington knows flirting. Knows it when he sees it. And he had seen it floating on the periphery of almost every conversation they’ve had all the way back to when the Vecna fiasco started.

This whole fucking ordeal was brought about in the first place because twice (twice!) Steve had caught Eddie fixating on — gazing at — his naked chest.

“What?” Steve smiled weakly. “You can’t - you’re seriously telling me I just imagined all that…? That it was all just totally-“ his hands fluttered of their own volition, “in my head…”

Wrong thing to say. Somehow the worst thing to say, judging by Eddie’s reaction.

Eddie pushed off the table to stand, shoulders inflating as he took a large inhale and held it before letting it out slowly. It was controlled, like if he wasn’t careful he might go off like a bomb. Still, the look he was giving Steve was fucking radiation poisoning.

“Ok, what the fuck is your problem?” Eddie spoke in a low voice and jerked his chin defiantly.

Steve could practically hear it, the moment his heart dropped like a rock.

Eddie’s top lip curled up when Steve didn’t say anything, just sat there with his dumb mouth left open.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to imply that you were…” Steve rubbed at the clamminess on the back of his neck.

“Oh no? Then what did you mean to imply, exactly?”

Steve hesitated, and Eddie looked upset at how much that vindicated him.

“I mean…” Sure, small towns were small-minded. But not Eddie. Never Eddie. At least, Steve never took him for the type. Sure maybe the guy’s a little bit prickly, but he doesn’t judge a freak for being a freak. He welcomed all those rejected and abandoned by society. Is fiercely, loyally protective over them. It was part of why Steve fell for him, his enduring Sheep Dog nature. “…s’not like it’s that bad a thing to be, right?”

Eddie laughed.

“Oh, it’s not, is it?” He said it big and loud and sarcastic and defiant. Like the way he talked to the assholes and the jocks and the bullies, the ones that give him trouble at school. How he talked to the ‘Them’ not the ‘Us’. Like the way he never talked to Steve.

“Hey,” Steve said, defensively. He stood up, not liking the feeling of Eddie looking down on him right now. “Dude, why are you being like this? I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Eddie’s features twitched, like he was exerting incredible amounts of restraint, and somehow this was his measured response.

“Hah. Well. S’ a good one. You’re a real riot…” He walked past Steve, roughly knocking into his shoulder as he did.

Steve stumbled a step. Eddie honestly hadn’t even bumped him that hard, but he wasn’t feeling very stabilized right now. He turned, watching Eddie march towards the tree line.

“Fuck you, King Steve,” Eddie said dismissively as he walked away. Steve was kind of floored. It took him a second to respond.

“I - Dude! Where are you even going?”

“I’ll walk!” Eddie yelled, not turning around.

Steve just watched him go. He wrapped his arms around himself. Suddenly realizing how cold he felt, even in his sweater. Even when it was still summer.

And Eddie he, he never acted like this.

Look, Eddie might have been kind of an asshole, and as of 5 minutes ago had decided he hated Steve’s guts… but he was still Eddie.

And Steve wasn’t gonna let him get lost in an occasionally monster-ridden forest.

He jogged to catch up. When Eddie heard him coming through the undergrowth, it seemed to make him storm away faster.

“Come on, man. Eddie! I’m sorry, okay? — Just. At least let me drive you home.”

“Fuck off, Harrington,” Eddie said, speed-walking as if Mr. Pack-A-Day could outpace the jock.

“Where are you even going?”

“What are you, a cop?”

“Eddie -“ Steve said, because this was, frankly, ridiculous. He grabbed Eddie’s wrist, tugging him back.

Eddie’s eyes were red-rimmed and glassy.

“Eddie?”

“What!?” Eddie said quietly, stubbornly looking somewhere off to the side, waiting for him to say something.

If only Steve knew what the fuck to say.

“You really had me fooled for a second there… that you’d changed since school. Shows me, huh?”

“Hey, fuck you! You’re the one who’s being, like, honestly, just - really immature about all this.”

“Oh, I’m being immature?” Eddie practically yelled, a cruel smile splitting his face open.

“Yes!” Steve yelled back indignantly, because that would be a hard charge for Eddie to beat right now. Especially with that petulant death glare he’s still got on.

Steve looked away and took a deep breath, dragging a hand roughly down his face. He held it over his mouth for a second, just trying to get his head on straight.

He really wished his eyes would stop burning. He’d thought… he’d really, really thought. Oh god, he’d just messed everything up, didn’t he?

“Jesus Christ. I’m sorry, okay? Can we just drop it? You don’t have to - you don’t gotta freak out on me…” Steve tried. But Eddie just stared at him, then looked down, kicking at the ground with the toe of his sneaker.

“God, you’re such a fucking asshole...” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m an asshole?” Steve repeated, offended and already exhausted from fighting. “Cause I asked you a question?”

“Cause where do you get off, that’s why. Fuckin’ - Am I just some kind of fucking joke to you? Is that it?”

“What - ?” Steve sputtered. “I don’t even -“ He tried so hard not to look as hurt by Eddie’s words as he felt. And when that got too impossible he just looked away. “You really think it’s that much of a joke, that I’d want to...”

“Come on! You think I don’t know this game? You figured out I’m into you, then what? What’s the play, King Steve? Huh? You ask me out so you can laugh in my face? Stand me up? Just hoping to watch me squirm? Well sorry to rain on your - “

Steve’s eyes snapped to Eddie.

“Wait, stop. Eddie - Stop! Just hold on for a second.” He held out his palms, trying to cut Eddie off mid rant. “You’re into me?”

Eddie looked at Steve like he was stupid.

“Yes!” He yelled. The ‘duh’ seemed to be implied.

Steve stopped. He stood up straighter. Smiled.

“Really?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie said, blushing again. “Fine. Yeah, you got me all figured out. A freak and a fag, the fucking - two in one special. Well, you know what Harring-whatareyoudoing?”

“Really?” Steve said again, swooping in close. Feeling bold or brave or, more likely, just plain stupi. He grabbed one of Eddie’s hands loosely in his.

Eddie looked down at the point of contact and then back up at him. Just so fucking lost.

“What is this?” Eddie said, squinting at Steve like he was an algebra equation. But that was okay. It had taken a few tries, but Eddie managed to pass with a C. Eventually. “This…” He took a shaky step backward. Shaking his head and trying to get his hand back. “This is fucked up, man.”

“Go on a date with me.” Steve took a step forward, following him, taking both Eddie’s hands in his.

“Stop messing with me,” Eddie said, looking almost afraid.

“I’m not messing with you. Go on a date with me.” Eddie was totally and completely silent. Eyebrows drawn together, eyes darting all over Steve’s features, trying desperately to read them. Steve gave him an impish grin. “You like me,” he said smugly, but his voice couldn’t help but soften. “I like you, too Eddie.”

“You’re straight!”

“Says who?” Steve shrugged with a shy grin.

Eddie’s mouth hung open as he stared at Steve with those big, doe eyes.

“O-Okay…? Sure. But, I still — why would you want to…” Clearly, Eddie wasn’t getting it.

“I like you, dude,” Steve said, pushing down the nerves. Wanting this to go well. Because God, if it went well…

Eddie pointed to himself, mouthing the word ‘me’ with just the most comical look on his face. Steve let out a small puff of laughter.

“Yeah… I’m like, kinda totally gone on you, man.”

Eddie was shaking his head ‘no’. Steve put his hands gently on both of Eddie’s cheeks to stop him as he nodded his own head ‘yes’.

Normally, he’d be worried about encroaching on Eddie’s space like this, considering tonight he had shown himself to be especially flighty. But the way Eddie was gripping his wrists, Steve probably couldn’t have backed off even if he wanted to. And he really didn’t want to.

“Eddie… you’re fun. And you’re funny. And you help me take care of the kids. You look out for other people, and I like how you're always singing under your breath, all the time. And how you’re so… just, passionate with the stuff that you care about. And — and you’re hot.”

Eddie gave him a bewildered look.

“The uh, bad boy thing it’s…” he huffed a breath, “it works.”

“Uh…“

“What do I gotta do? To prove it? C’mon,” he asked quietly.

Eddie's eyes immediately darted down to his lips. Just like they always did when Steve got him close. Only now, maybe he can finally do something about it. Steve smiled.

“Yeah?” Steve asked in a small, intimate voice. No one else was around to hear, but still, Steve wanted it to be just for them.

Eddie looked hypnotized by the way Steve was bridging the distance between them.

Steve kissed him, soft and slow and perfect. Eddie melted into it immediately, and they kissed like that in the dark for a nice, long while.

Steve pulled back to see Eddie’s reaction, finding he had gone completely frozen. His eyes dazed with shock.

Oh god, Steve might’ve broken him…

Steve held him by his cheeks again, gently tilting his lips up so he could land one more kiss.

“Eddie?” The two of them just looked at each other.

A moment passed. And then another. And then Eddie was back online and had Steve pushed up against a tree. Steve groaned when his back connected with it. He likes that way more than he should.

Eddie’s forehead was pressed against Steve’s. He had his hands all over Steve, touching and caressing and roaming over all the uncharted territory of his face, his neck. Like he didn’t know where to start now that he had permission, so he settled for everywhere at once.

“What the fuck. What the fuck, Harrington?” Eddie muttered before kissing him. This time it was Steve who melted. Eddie pulled back, leaning away from him.

“You're not fucking with me, right?”

Steve shook his head ‘no’, losing the fight against a far too honest smile.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered again. And then they were making out again, and Eddie was licking into his mouth, and his touch was restless, relentless, pressing into Steve’s skin, hands finding their way into his hair, under his shirt; and there’s that electricity.

It left him tingly all over. Steve moaned low.

“M’sorry I yelled at you.” Eddie pressed the words into Steve’s mouth.

“Make it up to me,” Steve panted.

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie said, still repeating himself, and Steve could feel a warm breath on his lips. It smelt like cigarettes and cheap beer, but tasted like something that fell out of heaven.

Eddie’s hands slid down the curve of his back, slipping into the back pockets of Steve’s jeans, squeezing hard. Steve jolted, his breath catching.

“Fuck, I’ve always wanted to do that,” Eddie groaned, sounding agonized by the feeling.

Steve chuckled, winding his arms around Eddie’s lower back and dragging Eddie against him. He widened his stance just enough to coax Eddie’s thigh into the space between his legs so he could grind down on it.

Eddie leaned back to watch him do it, directing Steve against his thigh with the hands cupping him firmly from inside his jeans pockets. His eyelids were heavy, and there was something dark and hungry behind them.

“Fuck, Steve. That’s fucking beautiful, you know that?” Steve made a noise in the back of his throat, pulling Eddie against him — demanding another kiss.

Steve could feel Eddie getting hard against his hip. It hit him with a full-body shiver. He knew Eddie had to feel what this is doing to Steve, too. And that also made him shiver a little bit.

“Eddie, wait - “ Eddie retreated just enough to nestle his face into Steve’s neck, placing soft, almost apologetic butterfly kisses into the sensitive skin.

“I’m getting carried away, aren’t I?” he said, without even pausing.

“No, me too,” Steve struggled to say between too big, heaving breaths. “I wanna do this right, Eds. Take you out, pick you up in my car, let me buy you dinner.”

Eddie pulled back to look at him. He had that look again, eyebrows drawn together like Steve was a puzzle he might never figure out. The difference was, this time he allowed some of that vulnerability he was so terrified of seep out through the cracks.

Then slowly, very slowly, the corners of his mouth started to rise. He was smiling mostly with his eyes, though. It was so fucking beautiful Steve felt his whole chest clench tight.

“Tonight doesn’t count,” Steve said.

Eddie laughed brightly. “No?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Beer isn’t dinner.” Eddie kissed him again, slow and languid and simmering so hot that Steve felt his insides start to boil from the glow. “Wanna romance you for real. Please?”

“Fuck, Steve. How are you supposed to say that and expect me not to fuck you right here on the ground?”

Steve jolted, his abdomen clenching in white, hot want, Eddie’s words and the gravel of his voice sending a sharp thrill down his spine.

Eddie leaned back a bit, grimacing.

“Right, I don’t know if you’re - if you’d be into, uh -“ Eddie trailed off, unsure. Steve huffed out a laugh, leaning his head back against the tree. Still breathing hard, he looked at Eddie from down the slope of his nose. He let his eyes roam lazily, checking Eddie out. Taking in his messy hair, his shiny pink lips, his broad-shouldered leather, his pretty face, and the expression on it that was so incredibly horny it kind of took every scrap of Steve’s willpower not to do something about it. The corner of Steve’s panting mouth twitched up.

“You want to? Fuck me?” He said it almost like a challenge. Eddie laughed, like that was another one of those things that came with a ‘duh’. Like it should be obvious.

“I am but a man. And you… are…” He let his sentence trail off again, because he knew he didn’t have to elaborate. His eyes said it all, the way they roamed slow down Steve’s body.

He squeezed Steve’s ass again and pushed his thigh up, trapping Steve against it. Steve choked on a sound that died in his throat.

“Fuck. What is even happening...” Eddie said, closing his eyes. “I feel like I’m about to wake up from a dream right now with the world’s least ignorable hard on.”

“Dream about me often, Munson?” Steve asked, lolling his head smugly, really just joking around.

“Fucking - Yeah. Dude. Like, a lot. Fuck, the amount of times I’ve gotten off thinking about this exact…” Steve’s eyelids went heavy, his lips parting in a small exhale. He could feel his breathing start to flutter. “Sorry, too much?”

“You’re the one who better not be fucking with me this time.”

“You have no idea how close I am to just dropping to my knees and blowing you right here, just like, instinctually.”

“How close exactly?” Steve raised a lecherous eyebrow. He couldn’t help but blush a little. This morning, his highest hope was that Eddie liked him back —

That Eddie had been dreaming about him sucking Steve’s dick? Yeah. That one might go to his head a little.

Eddie laughed and hid his face in Steve’s neck again. Steve wondered if that was just an Eddie thing — something he could expect more of… if Steve played his cards right.

“Fuck,” he muttered against Steve’s skin. “Could you tell?” Steve made a questioning noise, nosing at Eddie’s big frizzy mop of hair. His shampoo smelt like clean, fresh pine. He let himself breathe in deep, already addicted. “About my big stupid crush on you I’ve had since forever?”

Steve bit his lip, pressing his cheek into Eddie’s skull. God, he felt like such a fucking doofus smiling like this with his dick rock-hard between them.

“Okay, I’m worried you really are fucking with me now,” Steve laughed. Eddie shook his head ‘no’ against Steve’s skin.

“Since high school,” he grimaced, leaning heavily into him. “Not once did I ever actually even let myself consider that you’d ever…. Shit…. I can’t believe I blew up at you like that. God, I’m sorry I’m such a fucking dick…”

“You liked meeee,” Steve laughed. He was barely listening anymore. Eddie had been crushing on Steve in high school! That had got to be like five points for the You Rule board, at least!

Eddie reached a hand between them, squeezing Steve’s cock. He squeaked in surprise, trying to resist the urge to find further friction.

“By the looks of things, you like me well enough too,” Eddie said, nipping at his ear lobe.

“Hey. Stop it, stop that,” Steve said, wriggling in his grip. “I told you. I really wanna do this right.”

“Gonna wine and dine me, Harrington?”

“Can I?”

“Depends. You put out on the first date?”

Steve chuckled.

Eddie emerged from the space between Steve's head and neck. His eyes were soft and warm, and he had the dopiest lopsided grin.

“What do you take me for?” Steve said, pretending to push Eddie away with no real force behind it. He wanted to keep Eddie right here, in his arms, solid and warm on his chest, smiling just like that for… for however long Steve could manage to make him feel loved. Reminding him how much he deserves it, the loving.

“Fine. But I call next. You want romance, Harrington? You better be prepared for the whole nine yards. I’m talking flowers, I’m serenading you at the door - because yeah, I get to pick you up for date two. Oh, I’ll be pulling out chairs… and opening doors, laying down my jacket to help you over puddles . All of it, till you’re just sick to death of it. Just you fucking wait…”

“I suppose I could learn to live with it…” Steve said, rolling his eyes before laying one last kiss on Eddie’s stupid, perfect grin.

fin ~

Merry Holidays Sunflower!

[v6quewrlds]

❝ guilt trip, t. alexander-arnold. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: every year, trent and his mates bet on no nut november. and every year trent fails to hold out. it's really not your fault you can't hold off.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: so sorry this is up so late <3 day ten of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, brief fingering, begging.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: trent alexander-arnold x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2.7k.

"I can't believe it's November already," you said, your eyes fixed on the calendar. The page, a warm palette complementary to the warm autumnal hues of the season, glared back at you with a single, scribbled note: "No Nut November begins today". You sighed, knowing what this meant for you and Trent's love life for the next thirty days.

Trent sailed into the room, his broad frame casting a shadow over your thoughts. "I think this is my year, babe," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "I swear I'm gonna win that bet."

You could only roll your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the bet. "You've never made it past the first week," you reminded him, your voice laden with skepticism.

Every November 1st, you had come to expect the same conversation with Trent. You knew the drill: he'd announce the start of the "No Nut November" challenge with the excitement of a kid on Christmas Eve, and you would play along, feigning shock and annoyance. But this year, you felt a twinge of genuine annoyance. You had been dating for almost two years now, and you had hoped that by this point, the juvenile betting pool with his football mates would've grown old. But here you were, staring down the barrel of another month-long abstinence challenge.

Trent, ever the competitor, was undeterred by your eye roll. "This year's different," he assured you, crossing the room to give your arm a playful squeeze. "Me and the boys have upped the stakes. The winner gets bragging rights and a sweet little prize."

You raised an eyebrow. "And what's the prize this time?" you asked, already bracing yourself for the inevitable.

Trent's eyes lit up. "It's a weekend getaway to a posh spa resort. Imagine it, babe," he said, his voice full with enthusiasm. "Just you and me, no interruptions, no training, no matches."

You couldn't help but feel a spark of interest. A weekend at a spa was something you hadn't indulged in for quite some time. "And who's doing the challenge this year?" you inquired, knowing full well that you would be the one keeping Trent honest.

"Just me, Dom, Ryan, and Harvey," Trent listed off his competitors with a grin. "But it's mainly between Dom and me, to be honest."

You sighed, knowing that Dominik was going to be the toughest competition for Trent. "Alright, you know the rules," you said, trying to hide your amusement. "No funny business for the next thirty days."

Trent nodded solemnly. "I know, I know," he said, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. "But just think of the prize, love. A whole weekend of pampering and no distractions. We can finally relax."

You couldn't argue with that. "Fine, I'll hold you to it," you said with a smirk. "But if you even think about cheating..."

"Would I ever?" Trent protested, his eyes wide and innocent. You just raised an eyebrow at him, and he chuckled, admitting defeat. "Okay, okay, I'll behave."

The first week was surprisingly easy, with Trent's focus on the bet keeping him in check. The two of you spent your evenings watching movies and playing board games, your hands brushing against each other in innocent gestures that somehow seemed more intimate than your usual passionate encounters.

But as November marched on, the tension grew. You could feel it in the way Trent's eyes lingered on you, the way his touch slightly lingered. The air in the apartment thickened with unspoken desire, and you had to bite your tongue to keep from teasing him too much. You knew how much this ridiculous challenge meant to him, and you didn't want to be the one to make him stumble.

One evening, with about four days left to go, Trent came home from training with a new haircut, the fresh scent of aftershave wafting through the door before he did. You were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for your dinner, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him. His hair was buzzed closer to his scalp than it had been that morning, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and the intensity in his brown eyes. Though you would deny it, you nearly dropped the knife at the sight of him.

"What do you think?" Trent asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice as he spun around to show you the full picture.

You couldn't help but stare. The clean-shaven edges of his head and the short, textured hair on top were always a favorite look of yours, but the excitement in his eyes was purely childlike. You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold back a smile. "Looks good," you said, your voice a little too flat. "Very clean, babe."

Trent stepped closer, leaning against the kitchen counter, his gaze trained on your reaction. "Thanks," he said, his voice a little too casual. "Thought I'd go for a change."

You could see the challenge in his eyes, the silent dare to push the boundaries of the bet. You scoffed, trying to play it cool. "Don't get too cocky," you warned him. "You've still got a few days to go."

Trent chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "Cocky?" he repeated, his smirk growing wider at the double entendre. "Now why would you say that?"

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your expression neutral as you continued to prep dinner. "Because you know it's going to be hard to resist," you said, your voice low. "Especially looking like that."

Trent pushed himself off the counter and sauntered over to you, his movements slow and deliberate. "Is that so?" he murmured, his breath warm on your neck as he peered over your shoulder. His fingers danced across your waist, making your heart flutter despite your resolve to keep things PG for the next few days.

"Trent, don't," you chided, swatting his hand away, but not before you felt the electricity of his touch zipping through your body. You turned to face him, your desire shimmering in your eyes despite your stern expression. "You're making this impossible."

"Impossible?" he said with a cheeky smile, his thumb brushing the side of your face. "You know you want to." His voice was a low murmured tease that sent shivers down your spine.

You tried to maintain your composure, but the smell of his fresh shower gel and the sight of his toned arms flexing as he leaned against the counter was making it increasingly difficult. "I've been helping you remember?" you said, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

"Ah, but what's the fun in that?" Trent whispered, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Besides, it can stay our secret?"

You knew you should be the voice of reason, but his touch was making your knees weak, and the way he looked at you with that cocky grin had your mind racing. You stepped back, trying to create some distance, but the kitchen was small, and he followed you, his hand sliding around your waist to pull you closer.

"Trent," you protested, even as she felt yourself melting into his embrace. His fingers traced the curve of your hip, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch, your body craving his warmth.

He kissed your neck, his lips lingering on your sensitive skin. "Come on, love," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "One little slip won't hurt."

Your resolve was wavering. The smell of him, the heat of his body, and the promise in his eyes were too tempting. "Trent," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "We can't. You'll lose the bet."

Trent leaned in closer, his mouth finding yours in a gentle but urgent kiss. "It's okay. I don't care anymore," he murmured against your lips. "I just need you."

You felt the last of your resolve crumbling. You pushed away the guilt that tried to surface. After all, it was just one time. And you had missed him, more than you would like to admit. "Fine," you whispered, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "But you better make it worth it."

With a growl of victory, Trent swept you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom, leaving the chopped vegetables forgotten on the kitchen counter. He laid you gently on the bed, his hands tracing the curves of your body with a hunger that had been building for weeks. You couldn't help but feel a thrill at the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Your kisses grew more urgent, your hands more explorative. Trent peeled off your sweater, revealing your bare chest, a silent invitation that hadn't gone unnoticed. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his breath hitching in his throat. Your pulse quickened, the anticipation of his touch making your skin prickle with excitement. He kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours as he untied your sweats and slid them off your legs.

Trent's strong hands roamed your body, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, eliciting a gasp from you. You reached for his shirt, tugging it over his head with an eagerness that surprised you. His skin was warm and smooth, the muscles of his chest tightening under your palms.

You rolled over the bed, a tangle of limbs and passion, the intensity of your kisses matching the urgency in your movements. You felt the heat of his erection pressing against your center, and you moaned softly, your arousal growing. Trent kissed a trail down your body, his teeth grazing your skin, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

Your hands found his hair, tugging him closer as he nibbled at your skin, teasing and suckling until you were squirming beneath him. His hand slid down your stomach, his fingers finding your wetness, and you arched your back, your breath hitching in response. He chuckled darkly against your skin, knowing just how much it drove you crazy.

Trent took his time, savoring every inch of your body as if it were his first time. His touch was both gentle and demanding, leaving you gasping for more. You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips when he slipped a finger inside you, stroking you in a rhythm that had your hips moving in sync. Your legs fell open wider, giving him full access as he kissed and licked his way down your body.

The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the rustle of fabric, and the occasional sound of skin against skin. Your thoughts swirled in a haze of desire, your body responding to Trent's every touch with an urgency that had been building for weeks. You could feel the tension coiling within you, tightening with every stroke and kiss.

Trent paused, his eyes locking with yours as he reached for his shorts. Your chest heaved with anticipation, your heart racing at the thought of what was to come. He hovered over you, his gaze filled with a mix of need and love.

Without a word, he positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his erection nudging at your entrance. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pushed in, the sensation of being filled by him almost too much to bear. He groaned, his muscles tensing as he buried himself deep inside you. The two of you moved together, your rhythm a dance you had perfected over the years you had been together. Each thrust brought a wave of pleasure that crashed over you, making your toes curl and your nails dig into the bed sheets.

Trent moaned into your ear, his voice a mix of passion and affection that sent shivers down your spine. "You feel so good," he murmured, his breath hot and ragged. You responded with moans of pleasure, your body arching to meet his as the tension grew tauter. The room was a cocoon of passion, the rest of the world outside your window forgotten in the heat of the moment.

"Baby," you whispered, your voice a soft plea as the tension coiled tighter within you. Trent's rhythm grew more urgent, his breaths shallow and ragged against your skin. The heady scent of your combined arousal filled the room, a silent testament to your shared need.

"Yeah? Tell me what you need, pretty girl," Trent's voice was strained as he moved above you, the muscles in his arms flexing with the effort to hold himself up.

Your nails raked down his back as he brought your legs up around his waist, changing the angle and driving even deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt the orgasm building, the heat pooling in your core. "Please," you begged, your voice barely audible.

Trent kissed you again, his movements growing more frantic as he felt you tighten around him. He knew you were close, and the knowledge spurred him on. "Come on, baby," he murmured, his voice low and urgent. "What do you need, love?"

"Harder," you gasped, your eyes wide with desire. "Please, T. Harder."

Trent complied, his strokes becoming more forceful, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. Your breathing grew ragged, and your eyes squeezed shut as the wave of pleasure built, threatening to consume you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, and you knew that with one more push, you would be over.

"Now, baby," Trent whispered, his voice a mix of command and desperation. And with one final, powerful thrust, you shattered, your orgasm ripping through your body like a storm. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as you clenched around him. The intensity of your climax took you by surprise, leaving you trembling and gasping for breath.

Trent followed closely behind, his own release crashing over him like a wave. He buried his face in your neck, his breaths coming in heavy pants against your skin. You felt him pulse inside you, the sensation sending aftershocks of pleasure through your core. Your hand gently fluttered over the trimmed hair at the nape of his neck, your touch soothing his panting breaths.

The room was quiet except for the sound of your breathing and the distant murmur of the city below. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt, knowing that Trent had just failed to win the bet. But as Trent rolled off you, pulling you close, you pushed the thought aside. For now, you would revel in the warmth of his embrace, the feel of his chest rising and falling with each breath.

Trent leaned in and kissed your forehead gently. "Worth it?" he whispered, a smug smile playing on his lips.

Your head shook but you couldn't help but laugh. "You're such a tease," you huffed, your voice still shaky from the aftermath of your orgasm.

"Couldn't resist," Trent said with a grin, his chest still heaving. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. "Besides, it's not a big deal anyway. Dom gave up this morning."

Your eyes widened in shock. "What?" you exclaimed, pushing yourself up to look at him. "You mean you could've..."

Trent nodded, his cheeky grin growing wider. "Could've," he confirmed, "but I had to make it good. For the prize, obviously."

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from your chest. "Trent," you said, shoving weakly at his chest. "I felt so guilty."

Trent chuckled, kissing your forehead again. "It's alright, love," he assured you. "I think we've been good for long enough."

You sighed, a mix of relief and annoyance crossing your face. "I guess. But you could've told me sooner," you pouted, snuggling closer to his warmth.

Trent shrugged. "Where's the fun in that?" He leaned in, kissing your cheek. "Besides, we both know I was going to win anyway." His voice was full of good-natured arrogance, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes, even as you felt a warmth spread through your chest at his confidence.

The tension of the past few weeks dissipated into the comfortable silence that had become a familiar blanket between you. Your mind raced with what you could say to scold him, but the feeling of his strong arms around you, his heart beating steady and strong against your chest, was too comforting to let go.

[ozzgin]

hi! I'm the anon who said that Daitou is my #1 sweetheart, and I saw your post talking about time-skip Daitou kind in dilf vibes... I'm interested, take all of my money right now !!

also wondering how Daitou would react with a darling who wants kids 💭💭 imagine of she is having a hugeee baby fever ( not me projecting whattt)

Turning this into a general "Would the yakuza men want children?" and other bedroom habits. There's a more detailed answer for Daitou here. Content: female reader (pregnancy talk), mildly NSFW, fluff

You may think of Boss as old-fashioned, but he's seen a fair amount of depravity back in the day. Before gambling was deemed illegal in Japan, he'd owned several casinos in big districts like Ginza and Kabukichō, and consequently spent a lot of time in various parlors. Unlike many of his men, however, he never really cared much for adult entertainment. In his drunken rants he used to say that women would be his downfall, and no one would want to be involved with him, anyways.

He might be into you calling him daddy, although you should expect a lot of dad jokes to go with it. He’s a silly old man like that. Could be interested in shibari, because it takes a lot of patience and skill and he’d probably enjoy taking his time and gazing at you after each knot. It’s quiet and intimate, and he gets to tease you about it afterwards, especially if it’s an arrangement to go under your clothes. “What’s the matter, (Y/N) love? Tongue tied?”

His recurring humor around his age makes you wonder if he’d even be interested in children. When you finally bring up the topic, Boss is very casual about it. “Sure”, he’ll say with a grin, “whatever the missus wants.” You suspect he’s not taking you seriously, but after settling you on his lap and having a hearty laugh about it, he’ll conclude, this time with confidence: “Have a look outside this room. See all those rascals? I raised them! Ya think I can’t handle a bunch of kids?”

Daitou can be surprisingly (and unintentionally) kinky, especially if you encourage him to. He’ll apologize the day after for being too rough, even if you tell him it's fine and you quite literally asked for it (See Valentine's Day incident). Overall, though, I’d say it depends entirely on you. He can be dominant or submissive, according to your wishes. You can go all out with him, he’s sturdier than most and takes great pride in it. If you’re into more extreme hobbies like knife play, you’re certainly in good hands.

Daitou lives in the moment and hasn't really planned too far ahead. Such is the life of a yakuza: you never know when you might lose a limb or more in the next gang fight. He's therefore quite surprised by your proposal of having children in the future. Is it even something realistic for someone like him? On the other hand, it's hard to refuse that enthusiastic smile you're flashing at him each time the topic comes up. "Do you, uh...", he begins one day while looking at baby toys in the store. He fidgets with his prosthetic eye nervously. "Do you really think I'd make a good dad? Heh."

Kazuya can be quite kinky and loves teasing you in public about it. Last time you were hanging out with him and his underlings, you happened to pass by a park bench you'd recently used during your nightly strolls together. “This location is familiar”, he’ll hum with a smirk. “Isn’t this where we…ah. Nevermind.” Despite your frequent protests, he always struggles to keep his mouth shut. Can you really blame him for wanting to brag to others? You're an undeniable catch.

"Kids?" he repeats with a raised eyebrow. Good question, although something he's considered many times already. What, you thought he wouldn't notice your curious glances whenever some woman walks by with a baby stroller? He pretends to ponder your suggestion and declares after a long moment: "Well, you'd certainly make a great milf, and I obviously can't have anyone else do the honors." He picks you up with a mischievous grin on his face. "When do we start?"

[Main Story] | [More Yakuza]

[cobaltperun]

Mabel x Fem!Reader (Masc-Female Reader)

They are at the bar, Charlie is interested in Mabel though she only notices R. That's all... I know it isn't a lot but I hope you get inspiration and do something better.

Next Week

Mabel x female Reader

Masterlist

Word count: 1.2k

One more week, and then she’d go to college. Just one more week before she truly turns her life around. No more drugs, no more dangerous people surrounding her. It wasn’t all bad, she met some good people, but more importantly, and outside of that world, she met you. From the corner of her eye, she watched you win a game of darts against some guy she vaguely knew.

Charlie sat down next to her, preventing her from subtly watching you, but the grin on his face prevented her from getting mad at him. He was a good guy, and still in love with her, but she was in a long relationship when she met him, and he just never had the chance. He still tried every now and then, he still thought she was single. She never bothered to correct him. Her relationship was a secret, removed from the world she used to be in, and even now, months after she got out, started fresh, the old habit remained.

“So, new start next week?” he smiled when she nodded, leaning back so she could once more glance at you while still keeping the conversation going.

“Yes, I can’t wait to leave,” she truly couldn’t wait, but there was a really good reason for the one last week of delay, and she was currently looking at said reason.

“You’ll drop by every now and then, though, right? To say ‘hi’ and see how the rest of us are doing?” the hopeful look in his eyes stood in contrast with the disappointment etched on the face of another poor sucker who tried to play darts against you. When she met you, she didn’t think you were this precise, she saw the muscular physique of a woman she thought spent half her day at the gym. You proved her wrong, as you won a chance to buy her a drink in the same game you were playing now. And you kept proving her wrong, you certainly didn’t spend half of your day at the gym, your job just used to be physically demanding, add in some working out and you eventually gained the muscles you currently had.

“We’ll stay in touch Charlie,” she gave him a friendly wink and got up. You just sat down after running out of opponents willing to play, so, Mabel patted Charlie on the shoulder and moved through the crowd toward you.

“Hey there, stranger,” you grinned when she picked up the darts.

Mabel grinned, though she was turned away from you. It didn’t matter, you knew she was grinning. “Sorry to disappoint you, I’d like a better opponent,” she teased as you joined her.

“Yeah?” she could feel you smirking behind her. “How about we make a bet? I win and you let me buy you a drink?” you suggested, almost mimicking the first time you had this conversation. She found it amusing back then, she still found it amusing.

“Isn’t the loser supposed to buy drinks?” she raised an eyebrow, turning slightly to look at you. The few feet of distance between you felt like miles, and it was another reason she wanted to leave this place behind. So, she would no longer have to pretend she wasn’t with you. So she could grab your hand, or be with you without pretending it was a coincidence. Once she was no longer surrounded by people that were either once or still somewhat connected to drugs, she would be free to be with you the way she wanted to.

“It’s not the drinks I’m interested in,” you let her throw first. “It’s your time that I’m playing for,” there it was, that confident grin, the relaxed posture, the adoration and love in your eyes you failed to conceal. At least you could brush it off as unrequited love and laugh with whoever grew suspicious of your time together.

As expected, you won and got her a drink, and the two of you sat down, close, but not nearly close enough. She still found a few short windows of opportunity to grab onto your hand underneath the table, just to squeeze it and hold it for a few moments, enjoying the warmth before pulling away, resigning to joking touches, light taps or grabbing onto the other’s shoulder while laughing at a silly joke, as the only ways you could touch one another.

“Next week,” she whispered just for you to hear and you nodded, completely understanding, more understanding than she sometimes felt she deserved, but you always reassured her that she deserved it.

“Next week we’ll be sharing a drink at an entirely different bar,” no more playing for her time, no more buying her a drink, no more pretending.

Mabel looked around, still more than capable of noticing if someone was watching her, and when she was certain no one was watching the two of you, she got up, leaned closer and kissed your cheek. “We won’t be seeing each other again, consider that a goodbye,” she said loud enough for anyone secretly watching to hear. Because as far as the people around the two of you were concerned you were also leaving, only tomorrow, and to the other side of the country, for work. No one would know you were still playing the hiding game and that you were actually going ahead of her to avoid suspicion.

“Yeah, goodbye, Mabel,” you grinned as she walked away, knowing full well you just needed to be patient for just a bit longer.

~X~

The new apartment was comfortable, big enough for you and Mabel. You just finished installing window blinds. Mable was going to love them, no more cardboard covering the windows. And then the front doors unlocked, a whole day too soon. You raised an eyebrow and grabbed the screwdriver you were using, you weren’t taking any chances, even if you could throw a punch.

“Surprise!” Mabel yelling made you laugh as you placed the screwdriver on the table and went to greet your girlfriend.

“Please tell me you left your bags in your car,” you said as you walked into the hall and saw her taking her shoes off, luckily without the bags next to her. She looked great, as always, dressed in loose T-shirt and denim shorts and you realized just how much you missed her this past week as you walked over and picked her up, hugging her tightly and lifting her up and she quickly returned the embrace.

Mabel kissed you immediately, her warm, soft lips melting any feeling of loneliness in your heart away. And you kissed her back with just as much passion and longing. “Of course not,” she traced your biceps with the tips of her fingers. “I have to give you a bit of a workout,” you grinned at that. “And then, as soon as I stretch a bit on our new bed, we’re going on a walk, hand in hand, got it?” she gave you another quick kiss.

“Absolutely.”

[mj0702]

Just one Night

“How this happen again?” Lucy asked her girlfriend pinching the bridge of her nose hearing you squeal in delight

“You were a pushover again” Keira provided watching how you reached out from your position under Millies arms trying to catch Jills shirt

“But HOW did we end up hosting end of the season dinner at our HOUSE?!” your sister asked bewildered now watching how Millie chased Jill around the dining table you safely tucked under the defenders arm

“Again... you were a pushover” her girlfriend said flatly considering if she should step in putting a stop to the mischief that was currently happening in her dining room

“I didn't mean too...” Lucy groaned “... she sprung that one on me”

“You really want me to believe a THREE YEAR OLD sprung something on you?” Keira asked her eyebrow raised

“Yes....” your sister sighed

“I left you two alone for 15 Minutes...” her girlfriend said as a matter of fact

“It wasn't me fault” Lucy defended herself

“Then what happened...???” Keiras voice desperate

“Last Training before summer break... check” Rachel panted happily flopping down onto the pitch near you which you immediately took as an invitation to shuffle over to the blonde flopping down next to her

“End of Torture Team dinner at mines today...” Fara announced making the squad cheer

“Nooooo” you screeched sitting back up looking horrified

“What you mean no??” Fara looked down at you confused

“No no... no is yous” you exclaimed

“I promised I cleaned before leaving for camp” the midfielder said knowing you always had a go at Jordan for being messy

“No no no noooo” you started to wail making Lucy alert who looked over seeing you distressed

“What's wrong Bubs?” your sister said crouching down next to you while you immediately climbed into her arms

“Fawa no no” you sniffed dramatically

“What did you do to make me baby sister cry Williams?” Lucy stood back up you in her arms throwing her teammate a dirty look

“I just announced team dinner at my place” the 33-year-old said bewildered

“Ah...” your sister said knowingly

“What you mean “ah”...” Fara imitated your sister being lost

“She knows she not allowed to team dinners...” Lucy said letting Millie pluck you out of her arms making you lose interest at the conversation instead of getting all hyped up again when Millie sat you on her shoulders running after Leah and Beth with you trying to catch them

“By all means... bring her....” Fara shrugged her shoulders

“It's too late for her....” your sister said watching how you laughed in joy from your place on Millies shoulders

“We can start early.... she's part of the team too” the older player smiled slightly

“You really want to start team dinner at 6 and be in bed by 8?” Lucy raised her eyebrow

“Ehrm... no” Fara shook her head a lost grin on her lips

“Thought so...” your sister snorted

“Oy Bronze...” Leah yelled across the pitch where she stood next to Millie and you “... team dinners at yours or at Faras?”

“Faras... why at mine??” Lucy yelled back confused

“Poppy just said...” the blonde pointed at you you spotting a toothy grin

“No no no no...” your sister shook her head quickly

“Dinners at Bronzes....” Fara now yelled laughingly and you threw your arms up like you just scored a World Cup winner

“Come on guys...” Lucy groaned “... we literally just moved in... we didn't even had the time to unpack everything”

“Dwinne as Wucy house” you copied Fara happily

“Dinner at what house??” Keira asked shocked just coming back from a meeting with Phil

“Ours” your sister mumbled under her breath

“Come again??” the blondes eyes wide

“Apparently we host Team dinner tonight...” Lucy scratched the back of her neck embarrassed

“Excuse me??” Keira asked flabbergasted

“You see.., it was at Faras... but... Bubs... moved it... to our place” your sister grinned carefully at her girlfriend

“A three year old moved it...” the blonde repeated dumbfounded

“Yes...” Lucy nodded

“I'm at loss for words....” Keira shook her head before she threating pointed at Lucy “.... YOU will put her down for lunchtime nap and YOU will cook...”

“I will... I promise” your sister exhaled deeply

“Come on Bubs... time for a nap” Lucy said as she lifted you out of your highchair “... after we get this tomato sauce out of your face... and hair...”

“Noooo...” you whined pressing your tomato sauce covered hands against Lucys cheek

“Yes... you look like a little piglet” your sister said as she carried you down the hallway towards the bathroom

“No naps” you whined louder “I is no tiwed”

“Of course you aren't” Lucy snorted sitting you down on the counter snatching your crocodile washcloth from the hook holding it under the warm water starting to clean your face “... YOU invited everyone over for dinner... so you need to be awake to greet everyone”

“I is wake” you protested trying to get away from the offending piece of fabric

“Your head just nearly fell into the plate” your sister stated holding your hands out of the way

“No” you huffed but accepting Lucy cleaning your face

“Yes... come on... an hour recharging like usual and if your good now I'll let you stay up longer tonight” Lucy said pulling your t-shirt over your head looking around for your pjs top

“But I is no tiwed” you whined again

“I know...” your sister said distracted “... okay no pjs around... wanna sleep in a jersey?”

“Noooooooo” you nearly cried “I no weep”

“Come on Bubs” Lucy ignored your outbreak lifting you back up carrying you into your room but not putting you down immediately instead pulling down the blinds darkening the room “How about we just lay down a little bit together and just relax oaky?”

“No” you sniffled your head laying on your sisters shoulder

“Yes...” your sister just said now laying down with you on top of her fishing for your nightlight “... we'll just recover together... you know how important recovery is”

“Yes...” you mumbled against her shirt “... vewy imsortant”

“It's still a mystery to me how you sometimes speak a “s” and sometimes it's something else...” Lucy mumbled adjusting her hold on you

“Yous sometings else” you grumbled wriggling around a little bit

“I know... now stop wriggling... sleep” your sister murmured closer to falling asleep herself than you are

You laid still until you felt Lucys hold on your loosen and hear breathing flatten out the light trace of snoring in the room before you carefully wriggled down to Lucys side remaining there for a few moments checking if your sister would wake up but she just checked in her sleep if you were still there by quickly patting around stopping the second she felt your body – all while she kept snoring. Now you robbed and slided off the bed like a secret agent on a mission toddling through the dark room towards the door. You quickly glanced over your shoulder before opening the door which was just left ajar and slipping out of the room. You waddled down the hallway towards the living room already a plan in your head waiting for Lucy to wake up by watching TV. You just forgot an important factor. You forgot about Keira. The woman that was currently busy cleaning the kitchen while she started to prepare dinner since no one would eat what Lucy cooked. No one trusted Lucy in a kitchen even less would trust her to cook eatable food. So once again Keira would have to save the day. Which resulted in you getting caught red handed as you pulled yourself onto the couch the remote already in your hand.

“Excuse me little miss” you heard Keira from behind you “... what exactly are you doing here?”

“Wafing Mickey?” you asked timid

“I don't think so...” Keira said walking over to the TV just pulling the plug out of the socket “... you have nap time... where is Lucy?”

“Weeping” you shrugged your shoulders “Wucy needs naps”

“Unbelievable... You need a nap too... come on monster” the blonde huffed picking you up again “... nap time”

“I is no weeping needs” you whined but alone the fact that you whined told Keira that you were actually exhausted

“Bits... you are exhausted...” Keira said softly “... it's written all over your face... you did a lot today at training... so much running... and you scored a goal against Maz... that's a lot for young Bitsys”

“I wannas helps” you kept whining as Keira carried you down the hallway again

“Later okay... you just nap with Lucy for now and later you can help me...” the blonde kept her voice soft and gentle “... god knows your sister won't be any help”

“Buts wanna helps now” you sniffed

“No Bits.... you're exhausted...” Keira said her voice low as she entered your room finding Lucy fast asleep in your bed her legs hanging over the end of the small toddler bed

“Luce...” the blonde said raising her voice a little bit kicking her girlfriends ankle

“What?” your sister shot up “... I'm awake”

“The fudge you are...” Keira snorted “... here... make sure SHE naps this time...”

“She was napping before me” Lucy defended herself holding out her arms where you immediately were disposed to

“No she wasn't...” the blonde chuckled seeing how you immediately try to free yourself again “... make sure she naps now”

“Yes ma'am” your sister mumbled tucking you into her side again laying back down making sure you weren't able to escape by holding onto your trousers as Keira left the room again

“Why do you always have to cause trouble hm?” Lucy asked you half serious while you continued to wriggle around

“I is no twouble” you huffed finally giving up laying still next to her

“Never...” your sister sighed “... now shut your oculus and sleep”

You just huffed hoping you could escape once again when Lucy napped (you decided she was getting old and needed the sleep more than you did) but this time Keira was smart enough to close the door completely successfully shutting down your escape route. So once Lucy softly snored again you managed to slip off the bed again toddling over to the door to find it shut a quiet “fudge” left your lips and you plopped down at the door considering if you just stay quiet in your room or if you should start wailing. You decided for the first option because you were sure if Keira had to come back and find you wide awake again she would tell you off. So you started to clean your room putting all your toys back in their boxes pushing the full boxes trough your room all while your sister snored her head off in your bed. You were a smart kid – at least that what your Mum always said – so as soon as you heard Lucy starting to wake up slightly you climbed back on the back lying down at the end of the bed making it look like you moved in your sleep. The sleep you never had. The sleep Lucy thought you had but... no.

“Did you two had a good nap?” Keira asks smiling to herself when Lucy appeared in the kitchen you in her arms

“Mhm” your sister just hummed opening the cupboard to get herself a cup for a coffee before looking down at you “Special Bubs coffee?”

“Yes pwease” you mumbled faking slowly waking up to not rise suspicions

“Kay” Lucy said grabbing an extra cup putting it down on the counter now noticing all the pots standing on the stove “Lunch?”

“Dinner...” Keira retorted “... since we apparently hosting Team dinner”

“I thought everyone is brining their own stuff...” your sister looked confused while starting on her and your coffee

“Everyone is brining snacks...” the blonde shook her head at her girlfriends cluelessness “... we have to provide Dinner... and I saw we're running out of drinks... so once you and your mini had your coffees you'll go out and get drinks”

“Drinks.... like... cocktails?” Lucy asked bewildered while she stirred the chocolate powder into the warm milk adding a few drops from her coffee into your cup “There you go... special Bubs coffee”

“Fhank yous” you mumbled as you got sat down in your highchair grabbing your special cup (plastic with small opening for less spillage – Keira swears it was the best purchase she made for the new house)

“You're welcome” your sister answered ruffling your hair turning around to her girlfriend “... like.. cocktails?”

“No... non alcoholic and wine... nothing hard nothing overly fancy...” Keira simply answers “... we're hosting team dinner not a royal tea party”

“Okay... so water... coke... wine red and white... beer?” Lucy looked at her girlfriend expectantly

“If you feel like it.... wait.. yes to the beer.. you prefer beer to wine and so does Maz and some of the girls...” the blonde went over to the stove stirring the sauce once again

“Okay... got it... Bubs you done?” your sister looked down at you where you nearly fell asleep with your cup in your hands “... oy... wake up... we need to go to the shops”

“I is wakes” you mumbled your head rolling to the side

“Bubs you just slept one and a half hours... come on” Lucy gently nudged you “We need to go buy stuff... and I'm NOT carrying you AND the groceries”

“Good luck with that...” Keira snorted before mumbling under her breath “Pushover”

“What on earth is all this????” the blonde exclaimed about an hour later when Lucy fell back through the door packed like a mule you happily yapping behind her

“Well... we need to provide snacks too... right?” your sister at least had the decency to look ashamed as she stood in the hallway surrounded by about 20 bags

“Lucia...” Keira raised her eyebrow hand on her hips

“Uh oh... yous is twouble” you mumbled trying to sneak past Keira who just reached down grabbing the collar of your Lioness Jersey

“I don't think so” the blonde said her eyes still trained on your sister

“Uh oh” you mumbled but didn't move any further

“Care to explain why I count at least five different Walkers flavours??” Keira asked not even bothering to point out the bag in question

“We wanted to offer... diversity” Lucy tried carefully

“I send you out for drinks!!” the blonde exclaimed “... so where are the drinks??”

“Ehrm... yeah... so... you see...” your sister stammered slowly walking backwards

“Get. Those. Drinks” Keira sneered “... you have five minutes”

“I need 10 minutes to the shops...” Lucy whined now standing outside the front door

“Then run...” the blonde snapped before slamming the door shut

“Now you” Keira looked down at you and you tried your best toothy smile “... won't work Bits... how did you get Lucy to buy all the stuff we clearly don't need”

“Cwing” you shrugged your shoulders not seeing the need to lie

“Dear God...” the blonde groaned “... may God help us all once you grow up.. come on... you can help me set the table”

“Can Is have cwips fow the ways?” you asked hopefully already grabbing a bag of Walkers crisps

“Put it down and get your arse in gear” Keira said already halfway in the living room

“I still can't believe you let her push you over once again” Keira mumbled but smiled seeing how much fun you had with the Lioness team

“You say no to these eyes...” Lucy grumbled keeping a close eye on you

“I'M the one who always says no...” the blonde chuckled “... oy... Millie Bright if you throw her trough room I'll throw you out... put her down...”

“Keiwa yous no funsies” you grumbled toddling past trying to find someone new to corrupt since Millie was too scared of Keira

“See... I'm always the one who's no funsies” Keira shrugged her shoulders as you tried to get Jordan to play catch

“You are lots of funsies” your sister said her voice low pulling Keira into her side pressing a soft kiss to her temple

“Oh I know...” the blonde smirked “... you still will share a bed with your sister for the next four weeks...”

“Kei...” Lucy groaned feeling her girlfriend chuckle against her body

“No no... I'm no funsies remember” Keira chuckled but sneaked her arms around Lucys body before she saw out of the corner of her eyes how you dangled upside down being held by the ankle by Mary Earps

“If you drop her and she hurts herself Maz... then you'll be the one fixing it” the blonde said not seeing the point of turning towards the scene “... also... dinner... it's already late for someone”

“I is wiwe wakes.... I is no weepy” you exclaimed loudly your head red from the blood that rushed into it being held by Maz in that position for a few minutes

“I don't care... dinner and then bath and bed” Keira said plucking you away from the goalkeeper setting you onto her own hip

“I cans stayws wake” you whined your eyes uncharacteristically unfocused “... I is dwizzy”

“That's what you get for hanging upside down...” the blonde said softly her hand stabilizing your small body as you swayed a little bit “... will be over in a few minutes”

“I is hungwy nows” you declared making Keira laughing out loud

“You heard her highness...” the blonde said loudly getting everyones loudly “... get your place... the little princess is hungry”

You sat in your highchair between Keira and Leah after the blonde immediately vetoed the idea that you sat between Millie and Jill knowing that it would end up in a sheer catastrophe and probably in a food fight. Keira noticed pretty quickly that now where everyone calmed down a little bit you started to rub your eyes more frequently your whole body shrinking into your seat and you got unnaturally quiet. She had a feeling before that you did all but sleep and your current demeanour confirmed her suspicion.

“Come on Bits...” Keira said softly holding up your plastic spoon with some pasta on it

“I cans do its mewelfs” you grumbled snatching the spoon out of Keiras hand with the result that the pasta (obviously tomato sauce) landed all over your jersey

“Uh oh” you commented your mishap looking down and suddenly your emotions got the best of you and you just started crying – full on crocodile tears crying.

“Oh Bits” the blonde sighed starting to clean the pasta off your shirt while throwing Lucy a look to do something “It's okay Bitsy... we'll just wash the jersey...”

“Come here Bubs...” suddenly you got lifted out of your chair and Lucy gently pushed your head onto her shoulder trying to calm you down

“You'll excuse us...” your sister said into the round already on her way to get you changed

“Wow...” Rachel breathed out “... that small body sure holds a big pair of lungs”

“Oh that was nothing...” Keira waved off starting to eat her own food again “... wait until she throws a tantrum...”

Spoiler – your tantrums got legendary amongst the Lionesses and Lyon. It went so far that you once kicked Wendi Renards full force against the shin out of anger

“It's okay Bubs...” your sister mumbled softly against your hair entering your room “... you are knackered aren't you”

“I is not” you cried against Lucys sweater not knowing what else to do

“You are...” Lucy kept her voice soft as she fished a new shirt out of your wardrobe “... we'll change your shirt and then you go night night okay?”

“Wanna goes teams dinnsers” you cried loudly getting sat down on a sideboard and your jersey got pulled over your head

“Bubs... you're absolutely knackered...” your sister didn't even react on your mood “... and it's past your bedtime already”

“I stays wake” you whimpered wanting to participate in the team activity

“If you're still up in 15 minutes I'll take you back outside with me okay...” Lucy offered a 100% sure you'll pass out as soon as she starts rocking you slightly – you were a Bronze tho. You fought sleep for the time being being competitive and stubborn.

“I can't believe it” Keira shook her head rolling her eyes “What are you doing?”

“She's absolutely done but she refuses to sleep” Lucy whispers over your sniffles carrying you back towards the party

“Oh absolutely not...” the blonde got into your sisters way “... you turn right around and get her to bed... you will NOT get her all fired up again with throwing her into that hiatus in there..”

“Keiwa” you sniffled making grabby hands towards her

“You wanna say night night Bits?” Keira gently asks coming closer until you could grab her shirt in your tiny fist “... that's very considerate of you”

“No nighfs nighfs” you whined holing onto Lucy and Keira for dear life

“It's okay Bits... Luce will get you to bed and you'll dream how you can get Millie and Jill back for eating your pasta eh?” the blonde nearly whispered stepping closer again so you were sandwiched between them two

“No...” you sniffled totally knackered

“Ssssshhhh Bitsy...” Keira kept her voice soft pressing a soft kiss to your hair “... close your eyes baby”

“I is no wanna” you whined but both Keira and Lucy saw how your eyes drifted shut

“Good girl Bubs” Lucy whispered hoping you finally tap out

“For fuck sakes Rach!!” Millie exclaimed loudly pushing her best friend over making you snap your head up again looking around confused

“I is awakes” you stuttered out not knowing what was happening

“Christ Mills!” your sister yelled angrily immediately pushing your head back into the crook of her neck hoping you just go dead in her hold

“Chwist Miwwie!” you copied your sister your voice muffled by Lucys skin

“Let's get her out of here” Keira said nodding towards the hallway

“Good idea” Lucy mumbled following her girlfriend since you still held onto her shirt tightly

Back in your room your sister immediately started the same routine as before and this time with Keira there too you seem to calm down much faster and not even five minutes later Lucy could feel the little even puffs of your breaths against her neck

“She's out... let's get her into bed” your sister said lowly

“Wait... I have to pry her off me shirt first” the blonde answered her voice just above a whisper as she started to gently pry your fingers open

Well – you wouldn't be you if you would just let it go the easy way. The second Keira had your first fingers open you stirred again

“No Keiwa” you whined again waking up again gripping her shirt again

“Seriously Bits” Keira groaned “... it's not the first time Lucy's going to put you to bed”

“Keiwa” you started to cry

“Come here you monster” the blonde sighed holding her arms out to transfer you out of Lucys arms

“Noooo” you wailed holding onto your sisters collar

“Bitsy” Keira huffed “... what's the matter?”

“No wannas sleeps” you cried totally overwhelmed by this point

“Just let's go lay down with her” Lucy suggested earning a lost shrug from her girlfriend

“Before she gets even more upset” the blonde shook her head

“I can't believe I'm being held hostage by a three year old” your sister grumbled looking down at you where you soundly slept laying on her while her and Keira were squished into your small bed “... at my own party”

“Well YOU suggested to lay down with her” Keira sneered trying for the fourth time to get your little finger to open and let go of her shirt

“At least she's sleeping” Lucy looked helplessly her smile pained

“Lucy... we're stuck in a baby bed not able to leave” the blonde rolled her eyes but she had a slight smile on her face

“We really are all-in with that parenthood” your sister joked adjusting her hold on you

“You thinking about it?” Keira asked quietly

“Sometimes...” Lucy said carefully

“What are your thoughts on it?” the blonde kept her voice low seeing how you started to stirr once again

“I want kids... two or three...” your sister hummed

“Adoption?” Keira questioned further

“Maybe...” Lucy shrugged her shoulders “.... or maybe... our own?”

“You want to carry a child?” the blonde asked surprised

“Ehrm... nooo...” your sister smiled hopefully

“Oh hell naah Lucia” Keira exclaimed “... I'm too young to end up pregnant”

“I mean... we can practise right?” Lucy wriggled her eyebrows

“Right here right now?” the blonde lifted her eyebrow looking down where you now laid in between them

“No... maybe... later... in our room” your sister smirked a little

“We'll see” Keira smirked back

And how they saw. After an hour Jill stuck her head into the room telling them that all of them would leave now not wanting to disturb you in any form with Lucy apologizing a ton. When the house was finally quiet Keira started a new attempt to free herself from your grip and this time she actually succeeded and she carefully got of the bed quietly back out of the room

“Night night Bubs” Lucy whispered as she “nudged you off her tip-toeing out of the room herself

“Fuck me...” your sister groaned the second she quietly closed the door to your room

“She was never that bad” Keira raised an eyebrow leaning on the opposite wall

“She'll sleep it off and tomorrow we can ship her back to me parents and have the night for us...” Lucy sighed stepping into Keiras personal space where the blonde immediately laid her arms around your sisters neck pulling her closer just standing there enjoying the closeness

“WUCY!!!” the pair heard your panicked cry from inside the room and suddenly a loud thud “WUUUUCYYYY!!!”

“Ugh Mary mother of God” Lucy rolled her eyes pushing burgundy away from Keira

“Go calm her down... I'm going to take a shower and wait in bed for you” the blonde pushed Lucy gently towards your door knowing you would just start to cry harder if Lucy wouldn't get to you soon

“Why is she up anyway?” your sister groaned annoyed

“Just hold her... you know that's basically the only thing she needs” Keira said softly before padding down the hallway “... see you in a bit”

“What's the matter Annoyance?” Lucy said as she pushed the door back open finding you tangled in your sheets on the floor

“Are you serious??” Keira asked as she exits the bathroom drying her hair with a towel wearing a oversized shirt

“She wouldn't calm down” Lucy defended herself sitting in bed leaned against the headboard you sleeping against her chest your breathing still slightly uneven

“You better make sure she's fast asleep when you bring her back” the blonde mumbled disappearing in the bathroom again

“I thought...” your sister started her eyes fixed on her girlfriend who made a show out of reaching for a cream in the bathroom revealing a part of her ass that to Lucys surprise wasn't covered in underwear “...you know what... just changed my mind”

Lucy quickly shuffled out of Bed you tugged safely against her chest making her way quickly to your room

“You better sleep through the night now Bubs...” she mumbled as she gently tugged you in again “... I have plans that don't involve you... so you better keep your eyeballs shut”

“Fuck Luce...” Keira moaned feeling her girlfriend suck on her nipple

“Mhm” your sister hummed low in her throat biting down gently

“Stop teasing” the blonde pushed against Lucys shoulder

“I'm enjoy...” Lucy grinned before she got rudely interrupted

“WUCY” both of them heard you screeching from down the hall

“She can't be serious...” your sister grumbled hovering above Keira

“Go get her...” Keira sighed rolling her eyes

“If we ignore...” Lucy started

“KEIWAAAAA!!!” you cried out

“Get her before she wakes up the whole neighbourhood” the blonde said but Lucy heard the annoyance in her voice

“Maybe just for one night...” your sister smiled apologetic

“One night Lucy... just ONE NIGHT!” Keira pointed out getting out of bed to throw her oversized shirt back on slipping into some jersey shorts as Lucy padded down the hallway once again

“Come on Bubs...” Lucy sighed deeply as she picked you up “... what's up with you tonight?”

“Wucy” you sniffed holding onto your sisters neck

“What's wrong Bubs” your sister said gently feeling the anxiety radiating off you

“No wannas sleeps alones” you whimpered pressing your face into the crook of her neck

“Okay...” Lucy sighed “... one night Bubs... you're allowed one night in the big bed”

“Really Luce... again??” Keira groaned one night when she entered the bedroom finding her girlfriend and you in their bed

“I promise I'll get her to sleep in her own bed” your sister defended herself her voice a tad whiney

“That's the sixth time...” the blonde huffed

“I know....” Lucy looked apologetic

“One night Kei... just one night” Keira imitated Lucy under her breath

“You love her too” your sister tried to defuse a little bit

“I do Luce... I love her like she's me own...” the blonde sighed “... but I also love to share me bed JUST with you.... it's weeks since...”

“I know...” Lucy huffed feeling how you pressed your nose against her skin sighing deeply “... sometime you're a pest”

“You're such a push over” Keira smiled softly watching how you got more and more comfortable against Lucy – drenching her shirt in drool

“I... can move us to the couch?” your sister looked up at Keira

“Stop being daft” the blonde chuckled getting into bed herself “Hand her over... you still need to get bed ready”

And just like that you got transferred into Keiras arms while Lucy got herself ready for bed herself. One night was what they said. It was “one night” for the next one and a half years. You didn't mind one bit. You slept soundly between them kicking Lucy out of bed more than once while you innocently laid in Keiras arms. Most of the time you woke up starfishing in the bed with Keira and Lucy sleeping on the couch in the living room. But neither Lucy nor Keira had the heart to actually pull through with their threats to lock you into your room if you starfish them out of their bed one more time. Even years later you'd climb into Lucys bed when you were nervous and anxious. Ona learned the hard way just how much bed you could cover starfishing when you were older. After you pushed her out of the bed in the middle of the night the third time she just decided to retreat to the guest room as soon as she found you curled up against Lucy. Sometimes Lucy wound you up in calling you a baby but everyone knew she was just as content with you laying by her side than you were when you were tugged safely into her side

[beuxwhoyouare]

Escaping Holiday Responsibilities

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and all the boys. And who can forget about singing Hanerot Halalu after lighting the menorah. There’s symbols and entities representing all of the holidays. But outside of the season we enjoy our peace and quiet. Sometimes though a season is so rough you can’t really blame an entity for wanting to get away.

I may or may not be Santa Claus. I’d say the best perk about the gig is that when the time comes you’re almost guided to your successor who then dons the classic look. So it’s a give and take. I mean having the power to fulfill lists of gifts you desire is great, but acquiring the look of a tubby bearded old man isn’t all that. The coolest thing though is you may not know it, but just because you don’t write a list doesn’t mean you don’t have holiday desires. I can still deliver gifts based on the list you make in your hearts. Cute as hell right? I’m basically a mind reader!

Before all this Claus business, I was unemployed and recently divorced when I received the call to step into the good ol boots. So a gig is a gig. I took it and ran, but that was like 30 years ago. So now once I retire I’m actually gonna look old and ragged.

So there I was last night delivering gifts at this random place in Chicago. Doing my best to stay quiet, delivering gifts as low key as possible when CRAAAAAACK! I stepped on a large glass ornament I somehow missed. I thought I was in the clear after no one came to check what happened and as I headed on my way out a baseball bat swung at my head.

I took the hit like a champ but when I turned around to see I saw a man standing there in black sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt with the bat ready to swing again.

“Ho ho hey hey wait. I’m literally Santa.” I whisper yelled while showing snowy crystals come out of my glove.

Right as he began to swing again I pulled more tricks out of my hat.

“I know your name is Russell O’Connor. You got a gunmetal tricycle as a 4 year old because you thought the red ones the store had were tacky and wanted to look tough!”

That’s when he stopped mid-swing.

“How-how did you know that pervert? Have you been watching me for years?”

I began to hear his inner list….a young man now in his mid-20s regretting his life decisions to get a girl knocked up as a teen? Interesting. He desires to get away from the so-called mess he made.

“I can offer you a way out of the mess you made. If that’s what your true hearts wish is this Christmas?!” I pleaded to not be beaten once again.

“How do you know what I want freak?”

“Bro I’m Santa, I know when you’ve been like bad or good and whatever. Listen do you want to get away from the mess you made or what?”

“Yes okay but like how are you going to do it? You’re not going to kill me or anything?”

“Honestly no one’s really ever wished for this so I gotta be able to do it somehow. That’s the Santa magic!”

“Okay let’s go for it. Do it! Get me out of here!”

I closed my eyes and rubbed my gloved hands together and then pulled them apart. As I pulled them apart a spark started forming but I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I tried to hold it steady but before I knew it, the spark grew too wild to control. The energy then turned white and exploded.

There was a ringing and we both yelled but then black.

When I woke up I found myself pushing up from a bed? That’s weird I don’t remember finishing all my deliveries. I reached up to scratch my beard but instead of my long luscious white beard a more close shaved beard grazed my hand. Wait where are my gloves? And my beard?

I looked down at the bed I didn’t recognize before looking back up to walk over to a nearby restroom with the night light on. The dim glow painted a picture I couldn’t believe. Surely I’m dreaming?

I fumbled around the foreign room before locating the light switch, only to have the bright lights confirm what I was seeing. I raised both arms and posed….

“No fucking way!?” The cursing surprised me, being a Claus the job prevents your mouth from ever even forming a curse word.

I’m Russell? But the Santa step down process just returns you to your normal self not swaps you with someone? How did this? Could my desires have matched with his conflicting my magics intent?

I lifted the shirt barely hiding anything of my new body I now resided in. Woah…I wasn’t much of a gym person in my former life but maybe there’s reason to be. I mean look at this beef? I reached my muscular hand up to my new proud chest and squeezed. Ahhh grazing my new nipple I revealed a new found sensitivity I never previously had. Looks like that’s going to be fun, I nearly salivated.

I can do adult things again and live a life again! No more having to spend months working to achieve someone else’s dreams. Or maybe I’ll fulfill other dirtiest dreams. I mean this body should go to work somehow.

I’m sure OnlyFans would love to see how thick I am everywhere. It’s time to be a family man settle down the right way and make a good living by selling the best gift I’ve ever given myself.

My new tool hardening nearly pulling down my sweatpants waistband itself. I grabbed it before taking a peak at my new equipment. Ohhhhh looks like I’ll still be delivering gifts to quite a few people in different ways with this beer can.

[tossawary]

Thinking about a comedic "Star Wars" fic premise that could be either DinLuke or BobaLuke, not as an "OTP happily ever after" thing for either pairing, more as a series of ill-conceived hook-ups that everyone involved wishes were a little less emotionally complicated, actually.

Because the basic (been done before, I'm sure) premise of "I fucked a 19yo in Mos Eisley's only gay bar, that's kind of embarassing for me..." -> "I hate it when a past hook-up becomes a- MULTI-MILLION CREDIT bounty??? What the hell??? He killed HOW MANY people???" -> "Oh, fuck me, he's DARTH VADER'S SON!!!" works for either Boba or Din.

The flavor of the fic is of course extremely different for each pairing. Boba Fett is much more of an asshole, especially at this point in time, but he also has a lot of really interesting connections to Luke's past / family (Boba is SWEATING during his later meetings with Darth Vader). (He fucked a Jedi??? He fucked ANAKIN SKYWALKER'S kid??? Darth Vader is Skywalker??? Shit.) So, that has the potential to go to angstier places. DinLuke is just more likely to happen in the first place and also keep happening, because Din is less of a bastard and, you know, not canonically working for Jabba the Hutt or Darth fucking Vader.

(They're both 10+ years older than Luke, so you can make terrible helmeted daddy issues jokes about this silly situation either way.)

Because I enjoy fic premises based on how funny they are to me personally, I settled on both of these pairings. It's too funny to imagine Boba ("I'm too fucking old for this shit") Fett and Din ("The helmet has to stay ON during sex") Djarin having a "WAIT, HIM TOO???" moment in the middle of a firefight between Luke's little rebel friends and a bunch of other bounty hunters sent after them by Luke's shitty Sith Lord dad.

And Luke's friends, in between shooting at all of these competing bounty hunters, are like, "How do you already have TWO bounty hunter EXES out for your ass??? I thought you were only 20? 21?? And that you never even left Tatooine before you joined the Rebellion???" And Luke can only be like, "I lived near a spaceport, okay??? I'm SORRY that the only good club was in a wretched hive of scum and villainy called MOS EISLEY!"

Han Solo, pressed up against some crates for cover: "Look, kid, the criminal underworld doesn't have a lot of hard rules, but some things are just common sense... Don't fuck bounty hunters!!!"

Luke, sitting beside him: "Do we really have to do this now?"

Leia, on Luke's other side, leaning in as she pulls out a thermal detonator: "Who RAISED you??? Didn't anyone ever tell you never to sleep with Mandalorians???"

Luke: "Why would your parents even think to warn you about that?"

[san8ny]

robber ellie falling in love with victim reader😭

Something.

?: tried experimenting with angst / Older!Divorced!Reader x Younger!Robber!Ellie / Bi!Reader

“and you decided on here of all places?” You ask for what seems like the hundredth time, cleaver in your hold waving in the air all too closely for Ellie’s liking.

“Fuck— yes, lady, like I said, I just get paid to do this shit.” She groans, struggling against the ropes you had her embraced in, “What kind of knots even are these?..”

“Now, i’ve never really had to use this up until now..”

She feels her eyes widen, color draining from her face at the implication, “Woah! H-hey, you wouldn’t need to. We can find a compromise—

“You tried stealing my father’s urn.

Ellie’s winces at the weight of your words, her soiled plan gone to waste, “I thought it was a regular vase.. but— but with that being said, I didn’t succeed so you don’t need to be so brutal! Eh?‘Whaddya say?”

You stare at her for a rather long time before taking the knife and inching it towards her,

Ellie’s entire body tenses up, teeth clenching and her eyes shutting to prep for her seemingly inevitable demise—

Instead, you lightly poke her chest with the knife experimentally, “You’ve got like, no boobs.”

“WHAT THE FUCK? O-oh my god, you’re a pervert..”

“You’re in my house.”

“THAT DOESN’T JUSTIFY IT!”

“Back on topic! Why my place?”

“Needed the cash, how else?” She spits, gaze still never meeting yours fully

“That bad?”

“Wouldn’t be robbing people if I didn’t, would I?” She snaps aggressively, though it was expected

“You know, you should be nicer to me.” You say, reaching over back for your knife threateningly. She seems to quiet down at that, relaxing her shoulders as she obediently nods,

“I think i’d rather you just call the police at this poin, lady..” Ellie whispers, not having the willpower to deal with your manical interrogations, “My dad is sick, alright? He’s on the verge of dying, and I need that money for his treatment. Content now?”

After a brief pause, you speak up,

“Tell you what, you give me proof of this.. and I might be graceful enough to do something for you.” You thumb her bangs, separating each strand to reveal the glistening beads of sweat that pool at her auburn hairline.

“Huh, why?” Her head raises at your all-too gracious proposal, what exactly were you playing at? Pay the person trying to rob you? It’s laughable.

“Well..” you tilt your head, “You’re interesting”

Eventually, you do let her go, informing her of an easier way out than she came in. However, a deep pit in her stomach tells her she’d had been safer with cops than with whatever you were.

The following week, she’s being put to absolute work once she’d validated her father’s bills with you— from scrubbing floors to literally helping you wash your hair in that stupidly huge bathtub you have— she wants to hate you. no, she does! She hates you with every fiber in her. So, why does she feel so strongly opposed to seeing you interact with your husband everytime he’s back from his job? Maybe she hates him too? Yeah, that must be! Ellie hates everything to do with you by proxy, including your husband.

“Have you ever considered marriage, Eleanor?” You ask out of the blue, politely cutting your steak as you two sit across from each other at the dinner table, your husband not being present, per usual, not like he ever is. “My name is Ellie, not..whatever that is.”

You grin at her response, “Aren’t you too old to be going by a nickname though? Especially one as infantile as Ellie? It sounds like a pet-name if i’m being honest.”

She feels a vein threatening to pop as she points her fork at you, “Well, it’s my name so either call me it or not.”

There it is. The way you stare at her even when she’s slightly out of line. It’s a mixture of both amusement and surprise. Like she was some sort of entertainment for you.

“Ellie it is.” You softly say, smiling as you chew your food.

She hates the way it rolls off your tongue smoothly, no sign of condescension in it despite your previous words.

She hates how she feels something else stirring other than supposed hatred.

The other time she’s noticed this odd-feeling of hers rear it’s ugly head, was when you two had visited a bath-house, you stripping with ease as you walk the small steps they have before relaxing into the steamy water. Ellie stands there awkwardly, watching as you let your hair-bun down, all stress exiting your body once the sensations of the water settle around you.

“Well, aren’t you joining me, Ellie?”

She bites her bottom lip in an anxious fashion, almost fighting herself whether or not she’d let herself get that close to you. Regardless, one overpowers the other so she, like you, quickly sheds her clothing, stepping into the pool experimentally, however, she maintains a moderate space inbetween you two, careful not to ever let her body even touch a bristle of hair on yours.

Facing across from you, she studies the way your eyes are closed, soft crows feet at the corners— you were only 31 as she learnt, and already seemed so tired of the life you lived, having to run an entire estate while your— fuck, she couldn’t even recall his name— husband, ran business elsewhere. Ellie saw and took care of you more than she’d ever seen him done. I mean, what did you even see in him— ..what is she saying?

At the realization, she turns her gaze away from your face, eyes instead busying themselves with the small ripples the water makes.

“You never answered my answer.”

She doesn’t seem to want to avert her gaze from the water just yet, but speaks, “I don’t answer alot of the questions you ask if you haven’t noticed.”

“So will you answer one if I ask now?”

“Why should I?” She scoffs at your bluntness, if she didn’t want to answer a question, it’s not like you’d force it out of her.

“I see.” You say, before standing up to dry yourself off with a towel. At this, Ellie seems alarmed. What happened? Why’d you leave so suddenly? Why— why does she seem to care recently more than she’d like?

A reasonable amount of time had passed since the bathhouse, and you seemed to forget about it reasonably quicker. Almost immediately, actually. Currently, you were hauled up in your study while Ellie sweeped the hallway flooring. Upon arrival to your door, she’s met with a quick ‘I’d like to be alone, thank you!’ She rolls her eyes, knocking again. When ignored again, she opts for a 3rd time, before you open the door in irritation, “What— Oh, it’s you, Ellie! Hello!”

“Yes, yes, it’s me, can I come in? I have to tidy up this room before I can clock it for the night.” She says briefly, attempting to enter the room before you block her way with a nervous smile, “I don’t think this room is obligatory, you can just skip it and leave.”

“Uh, no, I’d like to it now rather than have it pile up tomorrow.”

“That’s really not necessary, I mean it, i’ll clean it even.” You try one last time of persuasion. However, this earns you a blank state and an occasional eye-twitch.

Sighing, you step to the side, “If you insist..”

Ellie looks around as you return to your desk, massaging your temples as you seem focused on a slight-stack of documents. I mean, she hadn’t seen you this stressed since the time you were told the oak-tree in the grand-garden had to be cut down because the neighbors were complaining about it obstructing sunlight to their meek vegtable plants. You went though with it, with the help of Ellie’s shoulder and a couple of shirts she had to run through each time you soaked them with your tears.

“I thought you said you had an accountant for taxing?” she asks, dusting the bookshelves, “I do,” You say, biting the cap of your pen as you twirl yourself in the swivel-chair, “these are divorce papers.”

It’s almost like time itself stops when those words dawn on Ellie. You’re..divorcing whatshisname? It’s like a fever dream. Almost surreal. Sure, you two never seemed all that in-love but you had your moments like when you’d kiss his cheek before he departs for whatever country he had shit to do in, I mean, that’s..romantic, right?

“12 years i’ll never get back down the drain. This, is why I ask you if you’d ever marry. Could you ever dedicate your life to another for it to be wasted like this?” You snap your fingers to signify time, bitterly laughing at Ellie’s solemn expression, “Don’t look at me like that, I liked you better than the others because we mutually agreed not to pity eachother.”

There it is, that feeling she faces when these moments spring up on her.

It’s not pity, it’s more like understanding where you’re coming from— but that’d be sympathy. Ellie doesn’t feel quite sympathetic about it, I mean, rich people don’t exactly feel that anyways but, she wants you to be the exception. You’re not like whatever the bunch are. You don’t frequent country clubs and you don’t go seeking elaborate affairs to spice your life. You’re an unsatisfied woman.

“I was young, you know? When my family heard of the marriage, they immediately called me mentally unwell— his family? Even worse. Guess what they immediately came to as reasoning? Witchcraft. It’s comical, isn’t? Me using spells to make a man of all things want me. If I did that, i’d be with Christian Bale, I tell ‘ya! I should’ve taken my signs then when he wouldn’t defend me, but I chalked it up to his fear of confrontation. ” You share, sipping your tea, “Older Men do nothing but leech off your youth. Don’t be like me, Ellie.”

“I won’t.” She finally says, though her throat tightens up, making her voice extra quivery rather than the assertion she was going for.

“Oh dear, don’t tell me my cautionary tale scared you?”

“No! No! It didn’t. I was just wondering, does your rule .. also apply to women?”

A brow is raised in response to the question, “I’d say so, though it’s a more common practice among that accursed other gender.” You kid, smiling. Ellie’s lips slightly pull into their own smile, her worrying expression now relaxing when she thinks you hadn’t caught onto her words yet.

“Do you like older women?”

At that question, Ellie feels the embarrassment return double the amount, slightly ruffling her short hair as she feels the hotness reach her cheeks, “I’m indifferent.”

Ah.

You look out the window before looking at your ring, “I don’t suppose your answer is supposed to imply dual-affection?”

She sighs, continuing to sweep, “I only like women, miss.”

…

“I suppose a women as a lover would be nice.”

Ellie’s heart races at this, is..this an opening? What exactly were you trying to do by saying this?

“Have you ever been with one, Ellie?” You tease lightly

Oh, how she wished the ground would swallow her whole.

After a brief pausing to catch both her breath and recollection of thoughts “..No, ma’am.”

“Want me to be your first?”

How this turnt into many illustrious nights with Ellie warming your the bed had become something both of you couldn’t come with an answer for other transactional sex.

How scandalous would this be if it got out? A well known older, recent divorcee seeking comfort in the arms of her 20 something year old house-hand. It would only intensify rumors, not that you ever cared, but..

“I won’t let you ruin yourself.” You softly whisper, sweeping a light tucking of hair behind her ear, “You’re too sweet for your own good, Ellie..”

That night, while Ellie slumbers, you pull together her seemingly last paycheck, wads of cash together into an envelope that could easily total above 20,000 as you place them near her pillow.

When she does awake, she’s brought to the empty idea of you, slot next to her feeling cold and empty. Where did you go?

Instead of a verbal answer, she’s given one in the form of payment and a brief letter:

‘Will be enough for your father’s bill. Collect your stuff at once and leave.’

Even when she does leave— she says nothing, catching a glimpse of you sat on the stump of the old oak-tree in what seems to be deep thought.

As per usual, Ellie’s last to saying everything

“Anyone could have seen she wasn’t in the right of mind.” The elderly ladies exchange amongst themselves, “I just didn’t expect it to be in such bad taste. Nobody is going to buy that home.’

Ellie’s fingertips brush against the ‘SELLING HOME’ sign they’ve posted up, the other 20 she’s ran off with clearly not stopping the process of this house being sold.

How long has it been since you left her behind again?