#we even put it in a cooler box

[fazbear-ent-official]

i lost a leg to monty im sueing

it's literally at the lost and found already, just come get it back???

[madebycloud]

Next To You

jinx/powder x reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: christmas comes around, you and your girlfriend prepare for a special day with Isha. (requested by anon) warnings/themes: fluff and fluff, domestic, christmas, established relationship, suggestive (making out, innuendo, etc?), modern au, baking, downbad!reader, grumpy!jinx ig but what the hell sure words: 17.6k notes: LATE AF but it is what it is

“Seriously? you want that as the star?” Jinx asks, looking at the star on your hand.

“What? It looks good and it's shiny.”

“It's boring and bland. Nothing special,” she mumbles, walking towards the tree to look for other decorations in a nearby box.

She grumbles while she rummages through the different decorations, tossing aside the ones she didn't like. She pulls out a string of bright pink lights but frowns. Her gaze keeps flickering between the star in your hand and the tree. “We need something new. Something... more.”

She starts looking through the discarded decorations nearby, picking up each and every one only to place it in the trash. “Nothing here? why do we have so many of these stupid things?” She slumps on the couch. “Ughhhhh... can't believe we have these dinky Christmas decorations.”

“That's my money down the drain.” You glance at the amount of decorations the Jinx has discarded. You sigh loudly and sit down next to Jinx, who leans against you.

“All of that was for nothing. So much damn cash wasted.” She groans. “We don't have anything good for the tree. Everything's so shitty.”

“At least the lights look nice.”

Jinx doesn't even glance at them. “There's nothing cool left. It's all so... bleh.” She frowns, kicking a box with her foot. She reaches out and picks up the star in your hands and stares at it. Her face scrunches up. “Look at all this crap. What a waste of money. Everything's just so…” She glances around at the various decorations. “Ordinary.” She lifts her head and gives you a sideways glance. “I'll be damned if that stupid star gets put on top of that tree.”

She tosses the star to the side, watching it roll along the floor. Her eyes flicker from side to side, trying to think of something that'll be a good replacement. She sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “There has to be something better than a star.”

While you're both mulling over options, Isha, who had been quietly playing with her toys, stands up and walks in front of Jinx. She tugs at Jinx's leg, holding up the toy to get her attention. It's a small replica of Fishbones that Jinx made for her.

Jinx looks down at her. She reaches out and grabs it from Isha's hands. “You want this to be the star for our tree?” 

She looks up at the tree and then looks down at the toy. She then gets up and stands before the tree. She slowly raises it and tilts it slightly. She nods. “Hmm. Yeah... Maybe…” She looks back at you, holding the toy up with one hand and the other rests on her hip. “What do you think?” 

You stand up and walk over to the tree, joining Jinx's side. You look up, and then look at the toy that she's holding. It isn't a normal choice, but it does go with her style. “It's not a bad idea.” You turn back to look at Isha. “What do you think, Isha?”

Isha nods eagerly, grinning widely.

“Well, guess it's decided then!” Jinx says. “You know, this will look even cooler than a boring ass star, huh?”

“Yeah, this kid is a genius.” You approach Isha, lifting her up. Jinx hands the replica to the kid. Isha carefully places the replica on the top of the tree, trying so hard to balance it. Jinx moves in and adjusts it slightly, making sure it's in the best spot.

You set Isha down, ruffling her hair. She swat your hands away, frowning. Once Jinx is satisfied with its placement, she steps back and admires the tree.

She smiles and nudges you with her hip. “Doesn't that look good?” She turns to Isha and nods with a smile. “Good choice, champ!” She then looks over at the pile of discarded decorations, frowning. “Hmm... the others might not match with this.” Jinx thinks for a moment, a finger on her chin. She looks down at the toys Isha had been playing with.

“Hey Isha,” Jinx says, getting her attention. “What if we used some of these toys to decorate too?” She crouches down and looks at the toys scattered on the floor. She starts picking them up one by one, holding them up and examining them closely. “Hmm... These could work…” She mumbles, glancing over at you and the tree.

Small rubber duck, a fish, and a rhino—all toys that she had made for Isha out of scrap materials. She holds each up to the tree, tilting her head, trying to picture how it would look.

She nods to herself. “Yeah. We could use some of these toys.” She turns back to Isha and holds up a duck. “I wonder if we have some ribbons or stuff we can use.” She hands the toy to Isha. “Make sure to hold onto it, okay kiddo?” She ruffles the kid's hair before heading over to a nearby shelf and searching amongst her random junk.

With that decided, you all went to work decorating the tree. Isha tries her best to help, although she can't reach some of the higher branches. You end up putting almost every one of Isha's toys as the ornaments. Isha really likes the blinking lights, so you add a lot of them.

“Almost looks like a rainbow.” Jinx grins, staring at the bright lights. She glances over at you. “Hope we don't break the power with all this electricity.” She snickers. “Not like it hasn't happened before.”

You shrug. It's certainly a possibility, but it wouldn't be the first time it happens. Jinx has the habit of overloading the power in the building with her inventions. It was only a matter of time before it happened. Again.

“If the power goes out, I'm blaming you,” you tease.

She takes things literally when it comes to inventions, and that leads to a bit of strain on the power. You're sure the neighbors are annoyed about it by now.

Jinx jabs you with her elbow. “'Course you would.” She turns her attention back to the Christmas tree while Isha continues to help. She watches Isha struggle to reach the higher branches, and Jinx chuckles. “Kid's got the spirit, at least.”

Isha reaches out, tries to stand on her toes, but still can't reach it. She huffs and glares at the branch.

Jinx watches as Isha struggles. “Hey kiddo,” she says. “Lemme help, alright?” She steps over and lifts Isha up to put the last ornament on the highest branch.

Isha giggles and stretches out her hand to place the last ornament, her fingers grasping at the branch. Jinx holds Isha steady, ensuring she doesn't fall and the tree stays upright.

“There you are,” Jinx says, turning her head to look at Isha. She lowers Isha back down to the ground. “Good work.” She looks over the fully decorated tree. “Well, I think we're almost done here,” she says. “Just need some... Oh!” She glances at a nearby box and grins. “Almost forgot.”

She grabs a marker from somewhere and tears up a nearby box into three pieces, handing one to both you and Isha. “We should draw ourselves,” she mutters. “And put them up on the tree.” She looks at the empty space on the tree near the top and gestures to it.

You sit down on the floor, leaning against the couch, and start drawing on the box, legs stretched out. Jinx follows, sitting down right next to you, her leg draped on top of your own. Isha sits right in front of the tree, her tongue peeking out the corner of her mouth as she works on her drawing.

It's quiet while the three of you draw your own pictures. Jinx leans her head on your side while she works, occasionally peeking over at your drawing and humming to herself.

Once the three of you have finished your drawings, Jinx grabs a pair of scissors to carefully cut the pieces out. “Alright,” she says, “all done.”

She walks over to the tree and reaches up, hanging all three of them. She steps back, putting her hands on her hips, and looks at the tree. She then glances at you and winks in pride.

“What do you think, kiddo? do we look cool?” she asks, turning to look at Isha.

Isha gives a thumbs up, her wide grin showing off her teeth.

Jinx chuckles. “And the artist herself approves.” She stretches her arms. “Now, who's hungry?”

—

“So?” Jinx turns around, letting you take a better look at her Santa Claus costume. The bell on her Santa hat jingles. “How do I look?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

She looks... Ridiculous. Hilarious, but ridiculous.

Jinx adjusts her hat, her fake beard (that's obviously a wig) swinging along with it. The costume looks itchy, but she seems comfortable in it. She grins, posing for you.

“Well,” you start. “I've never seen a Santa's costume quite like that.” You give her costume a once-over. “Though, this is you we're talking about.”

Jinx looks the part of Santa Claus, but it's not the classic outfit you've seen him wear in all those movies, books, and advertising.

Her Santa hat is blue and pink instead of red and white. Her coat is a mix of black, blue, and pink with silver trim. Her pants look like what you'd normally expect from a Santa suit, though they're the same black, blue, and pink colors her coat is but shorter. She's not wearing any boots, choosing her own high-knee boots instead. 

She looks like a demented, clownish version of Santa Claus. But she's happy, and it's a good look for her.

“Am I the best Santa or what?” She turns and jingles the bell of her Santa hat. “Ho-ho-ho!”

“The best and the best of the best,” you confirm.

She grins. “I mean, look at me!” She exclaims, holding her arms out. “Doesn't that costume make me look way cooler?” She turns around, giving you a 360. “Way better than all those boring red and white Santas,” she says, turning back to look at you. 

She strikes another pose. “Do you think Isha will love it?” 

You nod. “She'll love it,” you reply, taking another look at her costume. “She'll love it, because you're wearing it.”

Jinx had the brilliant idea to buy a Christmas costume for Isha, which is why she insisted on getting the costume early to wear on the day of. It's for Isha's sake, of course.

“Of course she will! What child wouldn't want Santa Jinx?” She tugs on her beard. “Anyway…” she says. “Santa can't go around without her trusty reindeers.”

You just know what she's going to say next, and beat her to it before she even considers it. “No, no, no. I am not wearing a costume.”

“Aww, c'mon!” She whines. “We could be Santa and Rudolph the red-nose reindeer together. Santa Jinx and her reindeer buddy.” She pokes your arm. “Won't you do it for Isha?”

You raise your eyebrow at her. She's playing you like a damn fiddle by using Isha's name. You sigh. “...Fine. But only for this Christmas.” That's a bit of a silver lining, at least. This is the only time you'll have to dress up. It's just for Isha. It won't be that bad.

She grins and brings her fingers up to your face to pinch your cheeks. “Yay! Good, now we'll match.” She claps her hands together. “This is going to be a treat and a half! C'mon, you won't regret this.” She grabs your arm and drags you to another aisle, looking around for a costume she thinks will suit you.

She keeps on rambling about how excited she is, mostly about how good she looks.

While walking, people give you both strange looks. After all, seeing a clownish-looking Santa Claus is certainly a sight. You hear someone mutter something along the lines of “What the hell?” under their breath.

She glances at you up and down every now and then, judging which kind would be best. “Gotta find you something nice and Rudolphy.” She browses through the costumes that are hung on the racks, trying to find one that she likes.

After a while, she stops and glances up and down each of the choices before finally settling on one. “This one.” She grabs one from the hanger and holds it up to your chest, observing it, then nodding. “Perfect,” she says. “Put this on, let me see how you look.”

Jinx shoves it into your hands and grabs the reindeer antlers that go along with the costume. She pushes you into the nearest changing room and closes the door on you. You hear her wait on the other side. “Hurry up!” she yells.

There's no running away from this, is there? you don't see any other choice but to put on the damn costume. It's just one day. You can deal with it. It's for Isha anyway. Hopefully your girlfriend doesn't make you wear this for any other occasion.

You grumble as you take off your clothes and put on the costume. It's a bit strange at first, but the costume is pretty similar to a warm sweater. She picks good costumes, you'll admit.

You stand there and stare at yourself in the mirror for a minute.

You look...ridiculous. Utterly and completely ridiculous.

Wearing a goddamn reindeer costume because your girlfriend wanted you to try it on. It's so stupid, yet somehow Jinx pulled off making the costume look good, while yours looks like a bad Halloween costume.

You make a face and scoff at yourself. You're going to look like a total fool and you have a feeling a bunch of people will point and stare.

You can hear Jinx getting impatient from the other side of the door. “How much longer?” This might be more for her entertainment than Isha's Christmas spirit.

You sigh to yourself and grab the reindeer antler headband, putting it on. This is so stupid. Jinx better appreciate this. You take a deep breath and open the door to the changing room.

Jinx waits outside, fidgeting with her hands behind her back. She looks over once the door opens.

She looks you up and down once, twice, three times, then bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, it's... you look... you look,” she says, trying and failing to stop laughing. “You look so cute!” She wheezes. This is absolutely a good decision in her head. This is hilarious, but damn, if it's not cute.

A few people in the store glance at the commotion, wondering why she's laughing so hard.

She grabs your arm and looks over the costume herself, chuckling to herself. “You look adorable.” 

As if this couldn't have possibly gotten any more embarrassing, she brings out a red plastic nose with a string attached to it. “Can't forget this little fella.” She brings it up and holds up to your face. “You're not my Rudolph if you don't have a red nose.”

God, she is absolutely reveling in the moment. 

You look ridiculous already, what's one more stupid thing? “It looks stupid.” You take the nose from her hand and attach it to your own.

Jinx stifles her laugh, biting her lower lip in an effort to stop herself. “You look so stupid,” she whispers. God knows what people in the building will say.

People are still glancing your way, wondering if you're some kind of cosplay or something... And why is this woman laughing hysterically. You'll say, 'I don't know her', but that will only make it more embarrassing. You just want to walk back home.

There's also a few children who are giggling while looking at you. Probably because they're jealous they aren't wearing a costume.

She takes her phone from her pocket and points it to you. Oh no. “Say 'ho ho ho'!” 

You let out a sigh. It's almost a growl from the back of your throat. Damn her. Whatever would make the torture end quicker. “Ho ho ho,” you grumble, forcing a smile.

You hear the camera snap several times. She's smiling so hard it'll be evident that she's enjoying this all too much.

She puts her phone away, looking up at you. “You look so so cute!” She pokes the plastic nose. She then starts walking, still giggling, and glances back over her shoulder. “C'mon, Rudolph, let's keep looking around.”

—

“Finally. Only took half a damn hour for her to go to sleep.” You step back and look at the bedroom door. You've both been trying to get Isha to sleep for what feels like forever. You're both tired, and it's the night before Christmas. Of course she'll be up late.

“Took forever,” Jinx responds.

You have so much to do to prepare. With Isha asleep, the house is quiet. Both of you make your way to the living room to prepare the gifts.

Jinx grabs some wrapping paper, the ones with Christmas themes designed on them, as well as a big roll of scotch tape and some ribbons. You grab the presents you and Jinx plan to give Isha. There's quite a lot, given that it's Christmas. You sit cross-legged on the floor, and Jinx plops down next to you. 

She yawns and stretches her arms out in front of her with a groan. “Damn, I can't wait for her to see what we got her.”

She pulls out her phone and searches on it for a while before finding a Christmas song. She presses play and drops her phone on the coffee table. The sound is low enough so it won't wake Isha, but loud enough for you both. She hums and sometimes sings along with the lyrics whenever she knows it.

She starts wrapping the presents, tapping her foot to the music while she puts a bow to it. She rocks her head and shoulders a bit. She put in a lot of effort into gift wrapping, despite it just being torn open in the morning.

You start to wrap your own gifts, but every now and then glance up, watching her.

Jinx wraps the presents one after another. One gift for Isha here, and another over there. “Bet Isha will love this one,” she mutters, adding a tiny bow and then a small piece of mistletoe. She places them all in order underneath the christmas tree, making sure they're nice and proper for tomorrow morning.

Each present has ‘For Isha, From Santa Jinx & Red-nosed Reindeer’ on top in her handwriting.

She yawns and stretches out her arms in front of her, arching her back before getting back to wrapping.

The two of you continue to wrap the gifts. 

She talks to you about anything or nothing, just to stay awake. She talks about what Isha will think of the gifts, how much she is going to love all of them. The tree, the costume, everything. At one point, Jinx goes on a rant about some neighbor who keeps playing All I want for Christmas is you on full blast.

She also talks about other things. Stuff that's going on in the building, people you both know, funny stories that happened years ago.

“I've heard that kids believe in Santa til they turn ten.” You put on the finishing touches of the gift you're working on. “Did you believe in Santa 'til you turned ten?” you ask, arching a brow.

“Santa Claus, The Tooth Fairy, The Easter Bunny.” She starts listing off things. She has some scotch tape stuck to her finger. She pauses to reach over for the roll of wrapping paper. Jinx glances at the gift you're working on and goes back to her own. She seems to remember something. “I kept believing in Santa til I was 10, when I finally realized that it was just Vander in a stupid costume.”

You snort, nodding. “Did you ever write a letter to Santa?”

She shrugs. “I may or may not have attempted to write one before.” She puts down the roll of wrapping paper, then grabs a ribbon and begins to tie a bow. “I always asked for something new for my bombs or for Mylo to stop calling me names.” She chuckles. “It got thrown in the trash the next day.”

She starts telling stories of the past christmases, of how she tried to sneak out and get a peek at what the presents the next morning would have, only to be caught by Vi. “Damn sister had ears like a bat, I swear.” 

She gets into a long talk and rants about the holiday season a decade or so back, when things were more peaceful. About making Christmas decorations with her siblings. As long as she got to put the star on top of the tree, she was happy. She also adds that she always ate the candy canes off of the tree before anyone else could get to them.

One story involves how she got a lump of coal in her stocking because she put it in firecrackers and caused an explosion the following morning. She swears Mylo put it there just to spite her.

Jinx doesn't really talk about her parents much, but when she does mention them in her ramblings, it's usually about things they baked together. Sometimes cookies, or cinnamon rolls. She remembers her father picking her up and putting her on his shoulders. She remembers her mother's apple pies and says she can still smell them in her head.

She puts down her last gift, setting it aside, grinning.  “Christmas has always been fun,” she says. “Even after…” She falters but shakes her head and continues. “I still love it. Isha does too.” She glances at you. “And you do too?”

“I'm fond of Christmas.” And you are. Mostly because of Isha and Jinx.

She glances at you, reaching over to pinch your arm. “Good.” She looks at the Christmas tree and the gifts below it. “I feel better sharing this with you and Isha than I ever did on my own.”

She gets up and stretches out her arms above her head, bending backwards to crack her back. She looks at the mess of ribbons, wrapping paper, and gift bows scattered on the floor around you both. “That's the last of them, right?”

All the gifts have been wrapped in various ribbons, bows, and wrapping paper. At least it looks nice. You nod. “Think so.”

You see her grab her phone from where she left it, unlocking it and scrolling through it for a moment before pausing whatever song was playing.

She looks around. “I'll clean this up tomorrow morning... or later this morning…” She yawns, looking up at the wall clock. “We should go to bed, get as much sleep as possible.” She then extends a hand down to you. “C'mon. Time for bed,” she urges, motioning with her hand. 

You take her hand, and she helps you up to your feet. Jinx then wraps her arms around your waist. 

She groans, yawning as she rests her head against your arm. “Carry me.”

You chuckle. “So demanding,” you say, but end up picking her up into your arms anyway. Jinx holds on to you like a sloth hangs onto trees. She lifts her head up and rests her cheek in the crook between your neck and shoulder.

You walk through the living room, and Jinx tilts her head towards you. “Mmm... Merry Christmas…” she mumbles before resting her head back into your shoulder.

It's a slow, slow walk to the bedroom. You swear your back is giving you a middle finger and you're pretty sure you'll need a chiropractor in the morning.

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper.

“Love you.” She squeezes you tightly and gives the side of your neck a kiss.

Jinx is dead tired, and dead tired Jinx is a rather clingy, sleepy Jinx. She'll wake the entire world up at 6 AM though, for Isha's sake.

You manage to get Jinx into the bedroom and set her down on the bed, and she's out like a light.

Merry fucking Christmas.

—

Morning soon comes, and the sun shines through the window. Both of you woke up fairly early, since Isha is an early riser.

Jinx is doing some last-minute decorations around the apartment just to get it as stupid as possible. This includes the Christmas movie playlist she queued up on the TV and the stupid Christmas costumes.

She's also still half asleep. You can tell by how groggy she still looks, and you notice her trying to set up some of the heavier decorations before giving up and collapsing back onto the couch with a groan.

Now that the decorations are up, the playlist is put on, and the apartment looks like a Christmas abomination, all that's left is waiting for Isha to get up to open her presents.

It doesn't take long for Isha to start to stir. Jinx hears her first. “Isha is awake,” she whispers, sitting upright. You hear Isha's footsteps coming from the hallway.

She walks in, rubbing her eyes and yawning, and then promptly gives you both a judgmental glance. But then she sees the pile of gifts under the tree, and her eyes widen. 

Jinx, who was previously lying on the couch, stands up with a grin and opens her arms wide. “Ho, ho, ho!” Jinx says in a voice that's definitely not at all Santa-like. She sounds more like a drunk uncle.

Isha looks back and forth between you both, then giggles.

Jinx beckons her over with a finger. “C'mon kiddo, look! Santa Jinx left you stuff!” she says, sitting down and patting the floor next to her.

Isha runs over and sits down next to Jinx. You see her eyeing the largest gift, and Jinx notices as well.

“That one's up to you.” Jinx nudges the large box towards her. Isha immediately grabs it and tries to shake it but finds that it's too heavy.

“Santa Jinx wrapped it up extra well.” Jinx grins. Isha scoots closer to her, and Jinx wraps an arm around her to help her open the gift. “Go on, open it.”

Isha looks at you and then back to Jinx before tearing the wrapping paper apart in a few seconds and getting buried in the mess of wrapping paper. Isha tosses aside the wrapping paper, giggling as it flutters around her and flutters in the air. She tries to open the box lid, but it's too heavy for her to pick up even with both hands. She turns over to Jinx with a scowl, only for Jinx to open it for her, laughing.

“There we go, champ.” Jinx opens the box and reveals a massive plushie of the Poro from Blitzcrank's Poro Roundup inside.

Isha reaches in and pulls it out, wrapping her arms around the plushie, and burying her face into the fluff.

The Poros were her favorite part of Blitzcrank's Poro Roundup, and you saw her trying to recreate it with her toys many times. When you first saw the giant plushie and its price tag, it almost gave you a heart attack.

“Do you like it, kiddo?” Jinx asks, leaning forward.

Isha nods. She lifts her head and pulls Jinx into a tight one-armed hug, not wanting to let go of the plushie, still clinging to it tightly.

“Good,” Jinx mutters, hugging Isha back. “That one took me a while to wrap.” She presses a kiss to the top of Isha's head. She looks up to you and gives you the most smug smile she can muster without making a scene.

You're a bit jealous she's using Jinx as her first target for cuddles this morning, but it's hard to not smile at both of them.

Isha reluctantly lets go of Jinx, though she never lets go of the plushie.

Jinx looks around and picks up one of the smaller gift boxes, then hands it to her. “Here's another one.” 

Isha takes the box and shakes it, trying to guess the contents. She then looks up to make sure it's okay to open it.

Jinx chuckles. “You don't have to keep asking for permission, silly. They're all for you.”

Isha nods, and she tears open the gift. She pulls something out, and you can see it's a new, larger sketchbook.

“It's for all the drawings you want to make,” you say. She has a habit of always drawing on anything she can get her hands on, and you're always finding doodles and drawings in your things when she gets hold of a pen.

She turns it over in her hands and feels the pages with her fingers. She presses a kiss on the sketchbook. She then scoots back and drops it next to her giant plush Poro, and Jinx picks up another gift for her to open.

Isha grabs the box, and this time it looks a bit bigger and seems to have a bit more weight to it. She shakes it again, and you hear the sound of the item rattling inside. She looks up to both of you to make sure it's okay, and after you nod, she tears open the gift.

She pulls out another art supply: a box of colored pencils. You made a mental note to watch her and keep her from accidentally drawing on the walls. It's not that you don't want her to draw on things. But you just want her to not draw on everything... like Jinx. 

Isha gasps when she opens the pencils, and she immediately pulls her legs up against her chest and opens the box. She takes out a pencil and holds it as if she's holding a sword. She makes some more swoosh noises and pretends to fight with her pencil. You have to stop her from poking herself in the eye.

“There's more.” You nod towards the gift pile with several packages still there.

Isha puts the colored pencils back into the box, and Jinx hands her another gift to open.

By the time she finished unwrapping presents, the entire couch was covered in wrapping paper. Isha is surrounded by a sea of trash and gift wrap, the giant Poros plushie being her favorite, which is sitting in her lap. She has art supplies, a new set of pencils, a new plushie, a set of Yordle mini figurines, and several new toys, clothes, and accessories.

Now, there's one last package left, which is the one you're most excited to give her. You nudge Jinx to grab it from in between the sea of trash.

Jinx gets up and bends down, digging into the pile to find it. She sits down and hands it to Isha, grinning. “There's still one more.”

Isha puts her other gifts aside and grabs the last present. Isha takes one look at it and immediately starts shaking it, trying to guess what's inside.

“Hold on, kiddo, don't shake it,” Jinx says. “That one's special.”

The gift is about the size of Isha's head, a rectangular shape wrapped in gift wrap. It doesn't sound like anything is moving around inside. Isha shakes it more just to make Jinx annoyed, but stops after Jinx shoots her a look. She sets it in her lap and carefully undoes the wrapping paper.

It takes her all of 10 seconds at most, given that Isha was very excited about the other gifts but very carefully unwraps the last one. She opens the box, and you see her eyes widen. It's a new tablet.

It costs you a pretty penny for this one. It's the most high-tech, latest model. She had drawn with old tablets before, and you wanted to get her something better than the outdated garbage you used before. You downloaded some drawing software there along with parental and screen time controls, of course.

Isha pulls it out of the box and immediately turns it on. She taps the screen a few times, and she looks back up to you and Jinx with a huge grin on her face that shows the gap of her teeth. She looks so damn excited. She holds with both hands, tapping and touching the screen to see how it works.

Jinx snickers. “She loves it,” she whispers, nudging you. “Good job.”

Even after getting a brand new tablet, Isha doesn't forget her manners. She scoots over to Jinx and gives her a hug, and Jinx picks her up in response. She then carries the kid over to you, the two of them sitting down right next to you with Isha in Jinx's lap.

Isha makes a drawing on the tablet, which turns out to just be a big scribble on the screen, but Jinx and you both praise it anyway.

It's a huge change from her having an outdated tablet, and the software on that thing was so old and out of date. You know she's going to be busy with her new tablet for hours, which gives you free time with Jinx.

Speaking of Jinx, you notice how content she looks. She has Isha leaning back against her, resting her chin on the top of Isha's head. Isha is still making scribbles on her new tablet, giggling as she does so. 

You feel Jinx lean into you, and you put an arm around her, pulling her closer. She hums and reaches up with one hand and gives your hand in a squeeze, then continues watching Isha draw.

The three of you are all gathered in the living room, surrounded by wrapping paper, with the Christmas playlist still playing on the TV.

You look at Jinx. She looks happy. That's all you could ask for.

You lean down and press a kiss into her hair, and she turns up her head and briefly captures your lips. You feel her smile against your lips, and when you pull back, you see her own smile on her face.

Jinx glances down at her, and Isha doesn't notice, too absorbed in whatever she's drawing.

Jinx looks back up and presses another kiss into your lips, this time just a bit longer, before pulling away. She looks at you with that stupid grin she has sometimes. 

You lean back and let out a sigh. You're content. You have your two favorite people in the whole world right here in the living room right now, both content and happy despite the shitty world outside. They're safe.

—

Jinx is working in the kitchen, mixing up ingredients in a bowl. She's wearing an apron with a cupcake on it (a gift from you), working hard in the kitchen. She mutters to herself as she works, mixing up the ingredients. “This has to be perfect,” she mumbles. “The cookies have to be absolutely perfect.”

Isha is standing on a stool, trying her best to help. She reaches up to try and add more sugar to the bowl, but Jinx stops her. “Too much, Ish,” Jinx says, gently pushing Isha's hand away. Isha pouts but doesn't try to help again, instead watching Jinx mix together the cookie batter.

She's doing all this to make sure the holiday treats are, in her words, ‘absolutely perfect’.

You watch her mix up the ingredients, then decide to try to sneak up behind her and get her attention. “Hey,” you say, and she jumps.

“You scared me!” She hisses, placing the spatula down in the bowl with more force than necessary, some of the batter splashing over the side. She puts her hand to her chest and gives you a glare.

Isha narrows her eyes at you, mirroring Jinx's expression. It's cute, but also a little creepy.

“Jesus, you almost made me ruin the cookies.” Jinx groans, looking back at the bowl of batter and seeing some splatter on the counter next to it. She grabs a washcloth and wipes it up with an irritated huff.

Isha watches Jinx clean up the mess, then copies her by grabbing a different washcloth and holding it, imitating Jinx while narrowing her eyes even more at you.

“How long have you been standing there?” Jinx asks, still looking at the bowl with irritation.”You were staring. Didn't your momma ever teach you that it's bad to stare?”

….she pulled that your momma card, and turned her nose up at you. She's too focused on the batter, making sure it doesn't have any lumps or any of the sort. She puts the washcloth down and picks the spoon back up, mixing the ingredients.

You stand back and watch her. You know better than to try and argue with her right now. You know you're better off letting her do her thing, so you just reply with a simple “Yeah, mom,” knowing that'll annoy the hell out of her.

Bingo. You watch as Jinx rolls her eyes so hard you think they're going to get stuck in the back of her head. She groans, and a vein in her temple visibly bulges. She takes out her frustration by being just a bit rougher with the spatula, stirring the ingredients up more furiously than before. 

You hear her muttering to herself. “You're so annoying. Stupid, irritating, annoying idiot. Damn dumbass.”

Isha watches the two of you, her head turning back and forth like she's watching a tennis match.

You sigh. “Need any help?”

“No,” Jinx replies too quickly. “It's fine. Just—stand there and don't get in the way.” She gives you a glare, and it has that edge that says she's irritated. It's not the 'playfully grumpy' kind of irritation, it's the 'actually frustrated with you' type. Her eyebrows pinched together, and nostrils flared. She's got that expression on her face, the one where she's either really mad or really horny. Hard to tell sometimes.

Jinx turns to Isha. “Ish, can you go grab the chocolate chips for me?”

Isha nods and starts to hop off her stool and run to the pantry. It takes longer than it would if you or Jinx had gotten the chocolate chips, but eventually Isha retrieves the bag and brings it over, holding it out triumphantly to Jinx. 

“Perfect,” Jinx says, taking the bag from Isha's hands and pouring it into the mixture. She gives her a smile and pats her head. “You're a good helper, Isha.” She gives you a pointed look. “Unlike some certain people.”

It's a barb that's directed at you, and it hits its target.

You walk over to Isha and put a hand on her shoulder. “Sweetheart, why don't you go play with your new tablet?”

Isha nods and dashes off to play. Both of you watch her run, then Jinx goes back to her mixing, and you go back to being silently judged.

Jinx knows how to do everything. She knows how to draw, she knows how to paint, she knows how to make bombs, she knows how to bake, she can make the best damn food you've ever tasted... and she knows how to make you feel bad.

She stands there, mixing the bowl. She refuses to look at you. It's always like this. You know what she wants. She wants you to apologize, even if it's the most bullshit one ever.

She's like a cat. Get on her bad side, and she'll just ignore you until you do something to get back on her good side.

You sigh, knowing that there's only one way back on her good side. If you do this correctly, she'll forget about you being a dick to her a minute ago, and she'll go back to being a normal, happy Jinx. If you do this incorrectly, you're sleeping outside.

You walk over to her and wrap your arms around her from behind, pulling her into your chest. You rest your chin on her shoulder. “You know,” you breathe. “I am sorry…”

She groans and stops her mixing. She puts one of her hands on your arm, giving it a squeeze. She still looks at the bowl, not at you.

Now you get into the fun stuff. You press a kiss into her shoulder.

You're not just going to give her a random peck and move on. No. You've been around her for years. You know what to do. You kiss her shoulder again, then her neck, then her jaw, then her ear.

She still isn't saying anything, but leans back against you, tilting her head to the side to give you a better angle. She's still looking straight ahead, staring at the stupid bowl. You press another kiss into her neck, and you can hear her mumble, “I hate you.”

She's lying. You know she's lying. You also know that she knows you know she's lying. You know she's just saying this to get you on your knees.

She likes it when you're on your knees, begging her and apologizing for whatever stupid thing you didn't mean to do wrong.

“I'm sorry, really.” You kiss her neck again, and she groans. You can see her pouting.

“If you keep doing this, I'll put rat poison in the cookies,” she mumbles. You know there's a damn near zero chance of that happening. Maybe...

You press a kiss into her shoulder. She groans and finally drops the act. She turns around in your arms, looking up at you with a glare. “You're such an ass,” she says. “I can’t believe I got stuck with you, out of all the idiots in the world.”

You sigh. Might as well pull the big guns out and do it all. “Baby. Look. I'm sorry, I'll never sneak up on you in the kitchen. I swear.”

"You—you—ugh!!” She puts a hand on your chest and punches you with the other. “You always do it.” Another punch to your chest. “I was trying to focus on those cookies. You can't just sneak up on me like that.”

“I know, I know. I'm sorry.” You grab her hand before she can punch you again. “It was a mistake. Baby, I didn't mean to scare you, I swear in my heart and soul I'll never do it again.

She pushes and thrashes against you, still trying to punch you. “You say that every damn time you do it!” she snaps. “And then when I'm focused on something else, you do it all over again!”

You keep her hands pinned to your chest. “I'm a terrible, awful, stupid person,” you admit. “I'm an idiot. I can't help myself, you're so hot when you're focused, I just can't help it. It's a mistake, I swear.”

Despite the fact that you have her wrists pinned to your chest, she manages to give you another punch. “You're the most annoying person I know! You're lucky I didn't dump this bowl of batter on your head! Maybe you'd learn your damn lesson!”

“You'd be wasting perfectly good cookie dough if you did that,” you reply. “Don't do it, baby. C'mon, I'll get you and Isha some ice cream. Alright?”

She sighs and gives up fighting against your grip. “...That new flavor?”

You let go of her wrists, letting her arms drop to her sides. “Only the new flavor, just for you.”

She stares you down for a full thirty seconds, then groans. She glances at the living room. “And Isha.”

“And Isha.” You lean down and put your arms on the countertop, both on either side of her. “Please?” 

“Please what,” she asks, not looking at you.

“Please forgive me?”

Silence.

“Pretttty please?”

More silence. Wow, she's not giving in that easily. You're going to need to pull out the heavy artillery now.

“I'll get you two new stuffies as well."

Her head whips around, giving you a glare. “And what stuffies would you so graciously and lovingly buy me so I can forgive you for the massive crime of scaring me while I'm baking?”

You almost smirk, you almost smirk. “Anything you want,” you offer. “I'll even call up some people and get you a stuffed replica of me if you want.”

“Why the hell would I want a stuffed replica of you?” She scoffs. “I could dunk it in the toilet.”

“You'd get your hands on a plushy of me, and the first thing you'd do is throw it in a shitter?” You raise an eyebrow. “I thought you liked me.”

“That's why I'd use a plushie of you as toilet paper.”

“What if I bought you two of them? A first one to use as toilet paper and a second one to cuddle?”

“Hmm...” She pretends to think about it, giving the most exaggerated facial expressions while she tilts her head like she's in deep thought. After about twenty seconds, she grins at you. “I'm still dunking both of them in the toilet.”

“How about I buy you two stuffed replicas of me, let you do what you want, call in a bunch of favors with some guys, get a bunch of replicas of me made, rinse and repeat until you're satisfied, and then you can forgive me?”

“...Make it a dozen replicas of you that I can abuse in whatever way I want, and a replica of Isha.”

“You wanna put Isha in the toilet too?”

 “No, you moron, I just want a replica of her because I love her more than I love you.”

"Ouch!” You pretend to be hurt. “You kiss me with that mouth?”

“I kiss you with both my upper and lower mouths.”

…

…

Wow?

This woman.

You don't think you've ever been hit by such smooth lines before. Damn, you really pulled the rizzler.

You're trying to figure out how to come back at that when she suddenly puts her arms on your shoulders, her hand slowly tracing around your neck. Her smirk turns into a half-smile that makes those damn eyes nearly glow.

Alright, time to pull out some more bullshit. “You do like it when I use that lower mouth.” You smirk. “You especially love that first thing in the morning, as I recall.”

She puts a finger under your chin, tipping your head up. “How could I ever forget?” she mutters, her eyes half-lidded. “After all, it's my favorite alarm clock.” 

You can see her eyes dart down to your lips and back to your eyes. 

“And my favorite breakf-”

Before you can finish your comment, she grabs your shirt and pulls you closer before kissing you.

You aren't complaining, not at all. You'll never argue or protest when she's making the first move, no ma'am!

You wrap your arms around her back, pulling her against you. She nips at your bottom lip before quickly delving her tongue into your mouth. You can feel her other hand against your chest, then slide up to your shoulder, then up to the back of your neck.

Your hands go down to her hips, pushing her backwards and forcing her to sit on the countertop. Her legs open, letting you stand between them. You kiss her back, your tongue darting back into her mouth.

Her tongue keeps yours occupied in her mouth, and she wraps her legs around your waist. Her hands move to the back of your head, her fingers pulling on your hair, and her other arm wraps around your shoulders.

One of your hands is on the counter, supporting the two of you, while your other hand travels up her shirt to the bare skin on her stomach.

Her hand tugs on your hair, causing you to break the kiss and look up at her. Her lips are red and swollen, and she takes a moment to catch her breath. “One plushie and an ice cream. Don't go overboard.”

You take a breath in. Then, another one.

The taste of her mouth is still on your tongue. You thought you had a strong tongue, but she went right for the kill.

“Are you bargaining with me right after you kiss me?” you tease.

“Yes, because that's the only time your brain works correctly.”

She pushes on your shoulders, forcing you to take a step back. She hops off the counter then leans back against it. “You still get one plushie. And-”

“And an ice cream,” you finish.

“And for Isha too.”

“And for Isha too,” you repeat.

“And no more sneaking while I'm baking,” she warns, pointing a finger at you.

“And no more sneaking while you're baking,” you echo.

“No more being an annoying, distracting idiot and getting me off track when I'm baking.”

“No more being an annoying, distracting idiot and getting you off track when you're baking,” you respond dutifully.

“No more scaring me when I'm just minding my own business.”

“No more scaring you when you're minding your own business.”

She smirks.. “No more sneaking around me at all.”

You pause. “...Am I allowed to watch you bake?”

“Under specific conditions,” she responds. “You have to have your hands behind your back, and you’re not allowed to talk—at all. No making comments, no asking questions, no annoying me, no trying to touch me, nothing.”

You frown, but you know it's a fair compromise. “...Fine, I'll abide by those rules when you're baking. Unless you need help… what if there's an emergency?”

She rolls her eyes. “If an emergency happens, you can intervene. But if it's not an actual emergency, then it's just you being annoying and distracting again.”

You nod your head. “No talking, no hands, no questions, no touching, and only intervention for emergencies.”

“And one more thing.”

“And one more thing,” you parrot back.

She pushes herself away from the counter, keeping her eyes on yours, and takes a step towards you. “You owe me.”

“I owe you,” you repeat, but your mouth turns up in a smirk. “And what do I owe you?”

“You can start with giving the living room a deep clean on your day off,” she begins.

Ah, that's where this is going. She's going to milk this for all it's worth.

“And?” you prompt.

“And you're doing the laundry on top of that. All the sheets on the bed-” She takes another step closer. “-and all the laundry in the laundry basket,” she clarifies. She pokes your chest with a finger. “All. Of. It.”

“All of it?” you echo. “Are you planning on throwing every single piece of dirty clothing you own into the basket before I get back from work just so you can give me extra work?”

“You’re catching on.” She grins. “And you’re going to wash everything meticulously. No stains, no wrinkles, and everything is going to be folded correctly. You hear?”

“No stains, no wrinkles, and everything folded correctly.” you repeat the words back to her. “Anything else?”

“You're scrubbing the bathroom, vacuuming and cleaning the hardwood, and changing Isha's bedding.”

“Are you sure I can't just buy you a Roomba?” you suggest.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Her hand traces to your stomach before resting on your shoulder. “I’m not trusting my cleaning to some random little thing on the floor. You do all the cleaning yourself, and I’m inspecting it all.”

You’re pretty sure that’s a very roundabout way of saying, “I’m going to watch you do chores and get mad when you do it marginally imperfect.”

“Alright, so laundry, bathroom cleaning, vacuuming, scrubbing the floors, and changing the bedding. Anything else?” you ask.

She looks up at you, a pout on her face, and her other hand is playing with the fabric of your shirt. “And a Christmas movie night later with Isha.”

“And a Christmas movie night with you and Isha,” you repeat. “Alright, is that everything?”

“Not quite.”

“Not quite,” you mimic. “What’s left?”

“And I don't want to see a single dish in the sink after dinner for a month.” 

“And no dishes in the sink after dinner for a month,” you repeat. “You got it, boss.” You wrap your arms around her waist. “Anything else, or are you done chaining me yet?”

“A massage.”

“A massage?” you repeat incredulously.

“Yes, a back massage.”

“Just a back massage?”

She nods. “A nice long back massage that hopefully won't end with you doing anything stupid.”

Hey, the stupid things end with the both of you having a good time.

“With or without oil?”

“With oil. And I'm serious about only a back massage.”

“Damn, thought you were going to say full body.”

“I'm not that easy,” she snaps. “And I mean just a back massage. No trying to distract me, no straying from what you're supposed to do. Got it? No funny business.”

“Alright, alright,” you grumble. “I'll give you a back massage with no funny business or distractions. But only one?”

“One long back massage,” she corrects.

“Only one?” you whine. “I'm going to end up giving the best damn back massage ever, and it's going to be a waste after just one.”

“One nice and long back massage,” she replies sternly. “That's all you're getting out of me. Consider it a part of your debt.”

“Can I bargain for more?” you joke. Well, only partially.

She glares at you. “One back massage only,” she clarifies, her hand pinching your shoulder as a warning. "

You wince at the pinch. “Ow, ow, ow, I got it. One, and only one back massage with oil. Anything else? Anything else?”

“And you're buying me and Isha one plushie and an ice cream?” she finishes, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay. One plushie and ice cream for each of you, a nice back massage with oil, laundry chores, bathroom cleaning, vacuuming the floors, scrubbing all the hardwood, and changing the bedding. And a Christmas movie night,” you list off, counting on your fingers. “And no dishes left in the sink after dinner for a month. That's it?”

“That's it.” She nods. “Those are my terms. Do you agree?”

“Yes, yes. I agree.” You raise a finger as you add, “And I’ll add two extra hours to that back massage.”

“You're such a pain-” she starts, pausing to think about it. “...Two extra hours added, I'll say yes to that.”

“What will I get if I add three more?” you ask, smirking.

“Nothing more,” she replies. “I'm done adding more on. Unless you want to add more chores to be done?”

The smirk on your face drops. “I-” you start, hesitating. “...Damn it, no, no more adding on. Two extra hours is good enough.”

“Good,” she says, poking your cheek. “Now get out, I have cookies to finish.”

“Fine,” you reply, but you lean in to steal one kiss, to which she allows you.

“Leave, you're too distracting,” she mutters against your lips.

“You're damn tempting when you're baking,” you mutter back, and kiss her one more time.

Reluctantly, you pull away from her, stepping out of the kitchen and heading to the living room. Isha is sitting on the couch with her tablet, drawing.

“Hey, kiddo,” you say, walking up to her, “Let's go get some ice cream and another plushie for you. Just us two, how's that sound?”

Her ears perk up, and she puts the tablet down, getting up and running over to you with a smile on her face.

She grabs your hand, and you feel as she tugs against you, wanting to go now. Ice cream and plushies (and chores and nice long back massage with oil) have got to be one of the best things invented in the history of humankind.

—

Ice cream and plushies acquired, and the three of you are back in the living room watching The Grinch for the umpteenth time. Isha is curled up in Jinx's lap, watching the Grinch steal all the presents and decorations from Whoville. Again.

You're sitting beside Jinx on the couch, eating her ice cream while Isha eats a cookie. 

Jinx has an arm around Isha, watching the movie while she holds Isha up. She takes a bite of her cookie or takes a spoon of her ice cream. You've lost count of how many times you've seen this movie with Isha already. You can practically quote the entire movie by heart at this point. Jinx can, anyway.

Not that you complain when Isha wants to watch it. This is still a thousand times better than having to see the Teletubbies.If you ever see Jojo Siwa or Peppa Pig, you're going to lose your mind.

Jinx gives you a look, then glances at your ice cream. She's already finished hers, and now she wants yours. She really wants it, and if you don't give it to her, she's likely going to steal it.

But Isha is on her lap, and she doesn't want to take her attention off of her, so you're safe… for now.

Isha is so focused completely on the movie. You've never seen a kid more excited to see a grown man being a complete dick.

Jinx keeps glancing at your ice cream, waiting for you to let your guard down and grab it from your hands.

She's probably already done the math in her head and knows exactly how much you can eat in one sitting. She probably did the math the first time you two shared ice cream and has kept a note in her mind since then.

Isha giggles at one of the funnier scenes, and then Jinx ruffles her hair. Isha leans back against Jinx and keeps watching the movie, but your girlfriend glances back at you with a look. That damn ice cream.

But this is your moment.

A window of opportunity has opened, and you can use it. Jinx is trapped by the kid. She can't leave, she's stuck. You have the upper hand, and you can use this to your advantage.

You grab the ice cream and shovel a heaping spoonful into your mouth. And hold it there.

Haha. You smirk at Jinx. She looks at you and realizes that she's in a checkmate position. She's screwed. Trapped behind the child, all she can do is glare at you as you shove more ice cream into your mouth. It feels so damn good to win. It feels powerful. You feel like a god.

If looks could kill, you'd be dead. 

You shovel more and more ice cream into your mouth, looking right at Jinx while you do it. You're making sure she watches you as you slowly eat the sweet, cold treat.

You feel like you're on top of the world... not until Isha wants to go to the bathroom.

Isha squirms and looks up at Jinx, signaling that she has to go to the bathroom. Jinx nods, and the kid scurries off to the bathroom to do her business.

Meanwhile, you've just sealed your fate.

She hates not getting her way, and you've just denied her the treat she wanted. And she will get revenge. She'll probably use a dirty trick, too. Maybe she'll put something in the next batch of cookies she bakes next. Or maybe she'll put a dead tarantula in your pillow.

And the moment Isha is out of the room, Jinx turns to face you. She looks absolutely angry. You'd think she just walked in on you sleeping with another woman if it wasn't for the ice cream still in your mouth.

The look in her eyes alone makes you start to sweat, but you force yourself to keep your composure. You have to keep the upper hand.

You shrug. “I can get you another ice cream... and another stuffie?”

She scowls. You can see her fingers twitch. “I'll remember this,” she says. Like you're not already trembling in fear. “Next time you ask to eat the last cookie, I'll say no.”

You know she won't follow through with that, but that doesn't mean it won't still be a pain in the ass. Not like you'd ever take the last cookie in the first place. It's probably only a bluff, it's probably empty words. She's probably still thinking of ways to get you back. You'll probably be finding dead spiders in your socks tonight.

Isha comes back and stops in the doorway, staring at the two of you. Wondering why you guys are looking upset. Jinx sees her, and her scowl turns into a smile within a fraction of a second.

It's almost scary how quickly she can flip.

“Hey Ish, did you wash your hands?” she asks, looking at Isha.

Isha nods. She probably did. She's pretty smart, she knows how important it is to wash hands. She's even stopped doing the typical kid thing of putting her hands in the toilet and getting who knows what all over her. You're thankful for it, 'cause you definitely don't want to see that.

Jinx smiles and motions for Isha to come back to her. Isha does so and snuggles into her lap, and Jinx kisses her head before turning back to you. That glare.

You're in the deep end now. Like you're about to be thrown into the Mariana's Trench, or the Challenger Deep. You know hell awaits.

All because of this goddamn ice cream.

She's probably got her payback list going in her head, writing down every single slight you've ever done against her. You remember she made you walk around the entire apartment building because... you forgot to take out the garbage six months ago.

You scoff, holding out the ice cream to her, hoping it would somehow appease her.

She looks at you, then at the ice cream, then back at you. She looks like she's trying to figure out if this is some sort of trick and whether or not you're just making fun of her.

She looks at you again and then finally takes the ice cream bowl out of your hands, grumbling to herself. She starts eating the ice cream without any hesitation. You see her scowl start to melt away.

You lean in and whisper. “You could've asked nicely, you know.”

“Shut up,” she mutters.

Of course she doesn't ask nicely. That's way too much work, that's way too civilized. She's Jinx, she does things her way. And if her way includes stealing your ice cream without asking, she's going to steal your ice cream without asking.

She doesn't have the patience to wait, she wants what she wants at that exact moment. That's why it's safer to just share, 'cause if you don't, your food/drink/whatever it is she's going to swipe ends up in her hands.

She even tries to steal your fries all the time and gives you the most pathetic puppy eyes whenever you say no.

She has an ice cream on the corner of her lip, and you resist the urge to lean over and wipe it off. You know better than to get closer. Or she's going to give you a death glare. You've already gotten a couple today.

You see Isha lean her head against Jinx's shoulder, and she wraps her arm around Isha.

You know damn well she's going to use that as a shield against you too. You've seen it hundreds of times. She'll use Isha as an excuse to do everything. She'll say, “You're going to upset Isha,” and you'll fall for it every damn time.

Because you really don't want to make Isha upset. You've seen Isha in a bad mood, it's pretty damn depressing. And you've had to deal with a stressed Jinx who had a stressed Isha to deal with.

You've seen Jinx with a rocket launcher at her side while she's glaring out the window and chewing on a toothpick. You just pray it's never directed at you.

And you never want to go through that ever again.

You don't even want to imagine if they're both on their periods. You've got nightmares about it. You hope you never have to see it, but it's going to happen sometime soon.

And when the hormones start kicking in, you're pretty sure you're going to have to call a therapist.

Or a priest. Or a priest-therapist. You're going to need both.

Or a priest-therapist-exorcist. Three-in-one

Or a priest-exorcist-therapist-monk, someone who will bless the damn apartment and cleanse the demons out.

Maybe you'll want to call some kind of SWAT team. Get everyone out of the crossfire and just leave a demolition crew to clean up the destruction.

Because you already know what's going to happen if they're both on their periods and are having a bad day.

They'll probably try and blow the damn thing, the three of you probably won't have a place to stay, and you'll have to tell the landlord exactly how your apartment got destroyed.

But those are for future you to deal with. And past-present you don't want to think about it. You'd rather think about the now, where Jinx is eating her ice cream and Isha is curled up against her, watching her favorite movie and not being on her period.

You see Isha yawn and rub her eyes as the movie plays. She's getting tired, and it's getting late. Jinx seems to notice too.

She glances between the kid and the clock. She glances back at the movie, then back at Isha. She looks at the clock again and sighs. “C'mon, kiddo, let's put on your pajamas,” she mutters, setting aside her bowl, then picking up the remote to pause the movie. Isha makes a whine of protest. Jinx shakes her head. “Go on. Go take a bath, brush your teeth, put your pajamas on. Okay?”

Isha shakes her head. She's tired, and she looks like she wants to stay like this. 

Jinx sighs, then looks at you. You look back at her, and Jinx nods her head towards Isha, raising an eyebrow. You roll your eyes, realizing Jinx is already on her way to using Isha as an excuse.

You get up and put your hands under Isha's arms and start lifting her out of Jinx's lap, and the kid whines. Isha squirms and tries to reach for Jinx, but you start carrying her towards the bathroom.

You really hope that Isha has an easy time putting on her pajamas and brushing her teeth and doesn't want to fight doing that too. There are some nights it takes like a whole damn hour to make this kid brush her teeth. It's because she likes to chew on the brush.

You open the bathroom door and set Isha down. “Go on, kid. You need to take a bath and brush your teeth,” you say, and you feel her grab your hand. 

This is all your responsibility now. Jinx is off sitting on the damn couch eating ice cream and watching the rest of The Grinch while you're stuck having to get her to brush her teeth, put pajamas on, and take a bath.

You glance back at the doorway, and you can see Jinx watching the movie with a big smirk on her face. She looks at you, and you swear you can see her mouth ‘you're welcome’ while she's eating her ice cream.

You really should've shared the ice cream.

—

The war is finally over. You finally get the kid clean, finally finally get the brat to put on the damn pajamas, and she finally finally finally goes to sleep. But not before she kicks and cries and kicks and screams and screams and cries. 

It's a hell of a Christmas, but it's been a long, exhausting day, and you're finally getting a break.

And you and Jinx are back in your room. Your head is throbbing and all your muscles are sore from everything today.

Jinx's back is facing you, and she's sitting cross-legged between your legs.

She's letting you undo her braids, and she's quiet, just letting you do your thing. Probably too damn tired (and annoyed) to have much to say right now.

The silence is nice. It's soothing. You carefully undo her braids, trying not to tug too hard.

She doesn't seem to be saying anything, which is weird. She's usually making comments about something whenever silence starts to stretch out for too long. Or she's trying to annoy you in some way. But tonight... nothing. Not even a hum to fill the silence.

You undo the last braid, and her long, blue hair flows down her back. You're used to seeing it like this at this point. But it never gets old. Seeing it like this, even if you have to deal with the mess it can make on your pillowcase.

It looks nice, though. It is nice. You're glad that she trusts you enough to let you sit here and run your fingers through it.

You wrap your arms around her waist, and she doesn't protest. She does lean against you, allowing you to rest your chin on her shoulder. Her hands find their way to your arms, tracing circles on your forearm with her thumb.

She closes her eyes, just... taking in the moment.

It's quiet. She doesn't say anything, and neither do you.

You can smell the faint smell of the shampoo she uses. You can still smell the cookies she made earlier. 

She turns her head to the side, and she glances at you from the corner of her eye. Her lips part like she wants to tell you something. Her brow furrows, but then she turns her head away and goes back to tracing patterns on your arm with her fingers.

Something's on her mind. But she doesn't seem to want to tell you. Or she does, but she doesn't know how. Or she doesn't want to.

You lean your head and press a kiss into her shoulder, intertwining one of your hands with hers. Your thumbs run in a slow, circular pattern on the back of her hand. “What's wrong?” 

She doesn't respond, but her fingers twitch in your grasp. Her back is still to you, and she stares at the wall in front of her. “Nothing.”

She moves away from you, sliding out from between your legs and crawling to the other side of the bed. You follow her, sliding into the spot beside her and pulling the covers over the both of you.

She rests her head on your arm, tucking her head into the crook of your arm and leaning on your shoulder. She pulls the blanket up to her chin. You pull her closer, and your other arm comes to wrap around her. She puts her legs between yours, tangling the two of you together like some convoluted knot. 

Her thumb brushes your waist idly, and her fingers start rubbing along the edge of your ribs.

She's doing something. A tapping, sort of. She'll run a pattern along your ribs before tapping on it once.

She's doing it to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You can see her eyes are open. She's not quite asleep yet. Her eyes are distant, not focused on anything in particular because they stare at nothing in particular.

She blinks a couple of times. And just when you were thinking that she's just spaced out...

“...Can I ask you something?”

You wouldn't have heard her if you weren't holding her so close to your chest. She's not moving much, just fidgeting. She's staring into the darkness, like she's staring at something beyond the wall in front of her.

“It's stupid,” she adds when you're too slow to answer.

“What is it?” Your curiosity is piqued. She never calls anything she asks about 'stupid.' That's not how she works. The only stupid questions are the ones that don't have an answer, she told you once.

Her fingers stop tracing on your skin. Instead, she moves her hand down to pick at the hem of your shirt. Her fingers grasping the hem of your shirt but making no move to bring it up. “I've been thinking,” she starts.

Her voice is so quiet, it's hushed. Not out of fear or because she's trying to keep anyone from waking up, but out of a sort of... embarrassment?

But why would she be embarrassed to ask you something? It's probably just a big deal for her, that's all.

“What've you been thinking about?” you ask, trying to bring her out of her own head.

“I was thinking, ah…” she trails off and sighs.

She picks at the hem of your shirt and pulls it up just a bit before she pulls it back down. She sighs again.

“Why do you stay with me?”

Her fingers are still picking at the hem of your shirt. Almost like she's picking it apart, little by little.

For you, it's almost a strange question, considering the relationship you've had together for so many years. Why wouldn't you stay with her?

It's a question you haven't really heard from her. Most of the time, the questions she asks are “are you mad at me?” or “are you going to leave me?”

You start to run your hand up and down her arm, trying to soothe her with your touch.

She doesn't seem tense, she's not shivering. Actually, she seems pretty relaxed, like laying in your arms and tucked into your side is completely normal. Which it is.

But you can hear her breath hitch, you can almost feel her heartbeat pick up. And her picking at your shirt is starting to get a bit more insistent.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Like- I dunno. I'm a walking disaster. Or a catastrophe even.”

She stops picking at your shirt and brings her hand up to brush some hair out of her face. She's doing anything she can to avoid looking at you.

“It doesn't make sense,” she mumbles. “I'm not exactly-” she pauses. “-nice, to most people.” She says it as if it's an understatement, which it probably is. “And yet,” she continues. “I get to hold you and be close to you…”

She reaches for your shirt again, and pulls it up just an inch, running her thumb along the hem.

It's odd to hear from her. The way that she words it, it sounds like she can't comprehend being loved. She's not stupid, far from it. She's far smarter than she makes herself out to be.

She's always been clingy and craves attention and affection. She's possessive of you and sometimes can act like a child. She can be impulsive and can be reckless. She asks if you're mad at her if you don't answer her call for a few minutes. She makes you dress up as a dumbass reindeer costume.

Yet, you love her.

“Maybe…” she trails off, and you hear her swallow a lump in her throat. “I might get a little…” she starts, her fingers fidgeting even more. “Possessive?”

Possessive. She'll break your phone if you mention another woman's name. Or burn a restaurant. Or both.

“Maybe I'm clingy?” she continues, and you can almost hear the way her lip curls as if she's about to say something else. She doesn't say it, though. The silence stretches out.

She's thinking, thinking hard.

“I don't understand why you want to put up with all of my…” she trails off again. “My bullshit,” she finishes in a hushed voice.

“Your bullshit.” You chuckle, and her fingers pause. 

Her bullshit, as she calls it. You know about her past. Her upbringing. That she's been abandoned time and time again, betrayed. That she's got abandonment issues. That she loves you more than anything, yet is afraid you'll leave her, and she'll be alone again.

You pull her against your chest, hugging her tightly.

Her breath hitches again, and you feel her fingers tighten as she clutches at your shirt. Something that you've noticed is that she finds comfort in the scent of you. In the little things, like smelling your shirt. Or how she'll sometimes lean over to smell your hair or the collar of your jacket.

You press a kiss against the top of her head, then another, then another.

“What makes me worth staying for?”

You're quiet, as you think. There are several words out there you could use to describe Jinx.

Amazing.

Intelligent.

Beautiful.

Gifted.

Creative,

Brilliant.

Talented.

Wonderful.

There are so many words you could say. So many words with so much meaning that all apply to this wonderful woman.

She's terrified of being abandoned again, and yet she feels like she's not worth being loved. Even after all the damage she's done and all the damage you've both done to each other, you still stayed. And she doesn't understand it.

Or refuses to understand it. She still believes that you're going to leave her someday.

“You drive me crazy,” you start, and she lets out a huff. “You're funny,” you continue. “Sometimes.” You lean down and press a kiss against the top of her head. “And sweet, sometimes.” You lift your other hand to gently scratch her scalp, the way you know she likes. In turn, she nuzzles her face into your shoulder. “You make me look forward to things. You make me look forward to going home.” You pause. “You make me want to come home.”

Every single time you turn the key to open the door of your home, she's there. The moment you step into the house, she's the first thing you see. Whether you're coming home late in the evening after a long day at work or coming back after a quick trip to the store, she's always there waiting for you.

She'll hear the door open, she'll get up off the couch or bed, or even wake herself up. She'll come rushing over to see you, and she'll jump into your arms before you even enter the living room. She'll hold on tightly, and you have to pry her off so you don't both topple onto the floor.

When you can manage to get her off of you—just for a brief second—she'll immediately start talking your ear off. About her day, what she did, what she and Isha did, and about the latest shenanigans she did around town.

She'll make you sit down, and the moment you do, she crawls into your lap and clings on to you.

She asks if you're hungry, if you need her to get you anything, if you need food, if you're tired. She'll take your coat from your hands, and you've come back home multiple times to find your coats and shoes perfectly put away in their spot.

“You're crazy,” you continue. “You make me do the stupidest damn things I can think of, like dress up in a reindeer costume.” You huff. “But I don't mind any of it, because it's you.”

Jinx doesn't say anything. If she was tired before, she's wide awake now.

“You throw stuff at my head when you get angry.” She has the decency to look sheepish at that.

You continue. “You annoy the living hell out of me.”

Jinx's eyebrows raise. Yeah, she knew that already.

“You're weird.”

She grunts and hides her face at the crook of your neck. A smile is playing at the edges of her lips.

“But the best things in life are weird.” You sigh, pressing another kiss into her hair. “I like waking up next to you. Even if you get drool on my damn shirt.”

“That was ONE TIME-” she squawks, lifting her head to look at you. It was more than one time, but you decide not to point that out. She grumbles, then buries her face back into your neck.

“You steal all the blankets.”

Jinx freezes at that. She burrows her face deeper into the crook of your neck.

“It's a pain in the ass, but you're so damn cold, and I know you're gonna be shivering when you crawl into bed.”

She'll roll over and hug you as close as she can at night because she ‘wants to steal your warmth,’ but in reality it's her trying to keep warm. Her toes are always freezing cold, to the point that she sleeps with socks on.

“You're cute when you're angry,” you say, which earns you a kick to the shin.

“I am not.”

“Sure you are. When you get mad, you get this cute little pout, and you look like a puffed-up kitten.”

She doesn't respond, and when you can see her face, you see her pouting. 

“See?” You lift your hand up and reach to flick her nose, but she grabs it in a flash. 

“I'm not cute when I get mad.”

“You are.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

You both argue for a good few minutes, the both of you going back and forth, the both of you being just as stubborn.

Eventually you both get tired of going back and forth, so you take a different approach. When she's just about to say she's not cute, you lean down and smother her with kisses. Her protest turns into giggles, and she squawks when you bury your head in her neck and press kisses against her throat.

She squirms, trying to get out of your grip. Her hands fly up to push against you, but you have her pinned beneath you, trapping her against the softness of the bed. You pin her wrists with one hand and use the other to continue your campaign of kisses against her neck and collarbone.

“You talk in your sleep.” You trail your lips to the side of her jaw.

You've experienced that several times. She has a habit of talking in her sleep, which she doesn't realize. Or she does and is just messing with you.

“Huh?” She grunts out, still trying to free her arms. 

“You talk in your sleep,” you repeat. Your lips trail to the back of her ear. “You usually say weird things.” One of your legs slides between her knees, forcing them to spread. “One time you said something about bunnies and monkeys and fireworks.”

That got her to stop struggling. Her eyes are wide as she stares at you.

When she doesn't say anything, you chuckle, moving to press kisses against the tip of her nose, her eyelashes, and finally the corner of her lips. “You woke me up in the middle of the night by whispering something. You said the bunnies were gonna eat the monkeys, and the fireworks were to defend the monkeys.”

The words finally register in her mind, and she suddenly laughs. “You're making that up.”

“Nope,” you respond, popping the 'p'. “You've said more crazy things, you know,” you continue. “You said you were gonna 'shoot the sun down.' When I asked what you meant, you said something about using a cannon.”

She laughs again, and the sound of her laughter is like music to your ears. “That was a good dream.”

“I'm sure it was,” you murmur against her collarbone, moving up to her neck. “I woke up and you had your head buried under the pillow.”

“I wanted to muffle the sun.”

“At 2 am?”

“The sun was loud.”

You chuckle against her neck before you bite down, sucking at a spot in the crook of her shoulder. She gasps at that. “You kick me sometimes in the middle of the night.”

And her legs are always flailing about in her sleep. She has hit you multiple times in her sleep, accidentally whacking you in the face.

“I don't do that on purpose.” She huffs.

You raise an eyebrow at her and stop peppering her neck with kisses. 

You get hit by her feet, her elbows, her hands, all while she's apparently asleep. It's like she's having a damn fencing match in her dreams. 

“You absolutely do it on purpose.” You scoff. “When we first moved in together, I woke up one night and I had a black eye. And you had this smirk on your face while you were 'asleep'.”

“I swear that was an accident!”

She accidentally slammed her elbow into your eye while asleep. It left your eye bruised for a week, and the next morning she felt terrible about it. You can still remember her fretting over you and making you an ice pack while constantly apologizing.

“Uh huh.”

“I said it was an accident,” she says, her bottom lip jutting out.

“Then I guess it's just a coincidence that you elbowed me in the other eye a week after that?”

That time she had been having a nightmare, and apparently you jostled her. She swung around and socked you dead in the eye, which once again had left you with a black eye that took a week to go away.

“That was also an accident.”

“You do it on purpose,” you scoff. “You're trying to kill me in my sleep.”

“I like you alive,” she says, “who else is gonna keep me warm at night?”

“You could get a dog to keep you warm at night,” you respond, “or a hot water bottle.”

“Those don't have your warmth.”

You chuckle. “What, I'm just a replacement heater for you?” 

She squawks and tries to smack you on the shoulder. Which is difficult when her wrists are still pinned by your hand. “I don't use you just for your warmth, you dumbass.” She struggles against you. “Lemme go, I wanna hit you.”

“No,” you mumble before leaning down to bury your face in her neck again. “You wake me up in the middle of the night to talk about whatever nonsense you want or because you can't sleep.”

She'll wake up at the most random times in the night, just as you're about to fall asleep. She'll start talking, and you'll be half asleep as you listen to her go on a 3 am rant on how the neighbor a floor above you always stomps around in heels at random hours of the night and keeps her awake. Or about why pigeons are evil.

And if she's not talking, she's staring at you while you're asleep or playing with your hair. You've lost count of the times you've woken up with her fingers combing through your hair or tracing the lines of your face.

“You have the biggest sweet tooth I've ever seen.”

She wakes up in the middle of the night, leaving you to raid the kitchen for candy and pastries. You'll wake up at 3 am, only to realize the left side of the bed is cold. You get up, stumbling out of bed to look for her.

You'll find her with a spoon in one hand, a bag of cookies in the other. Sometimes sitting on the counter, sometimes sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, happily munching away.

“You even went ahead and stole the candies I keep in the fridge for Isha. I have to hide everything for that girl in the house or there won't be anything left for her.”

There's the time she ate all of Isha's snacks in one evening. And you had to make another trip to the corner store to go and replace those.

She'll grab a bowl of candy or chips and eat it in front of the TV, finishing the whole bag. If she's really into it, she'll probably grab a small snack here and there as well. Isha gets jealous when she eats all of her snacks, but she doesn't mind sharing either.

Sometimes you'll find her on the couch with a handful of candy in her hands while Isha sits next to her, telling her to “share and quit hogging.”

You also remember the one time she ate a ton of ice cream out of the carton and made herself sick later that night. She got a massive brain freeze and swore to “never eat another bit of ice cream again.” She ate some two days later.

“You steal my clothes. Always.”

She'll take anything you own that she can wear. Hoodies, sweaters, shirts. She'll grab a pair of socks or a pair of jeans and wear them herself. You're not even sure how you own any clothes anymore, seeing as a majority of your clothes have been stolen.

“You always take my hoodies-”

“-Because they're comfy and smell like you.” She huffs as a counter, cutting you off.

“-And never give them back,” you finish, raising an eyebrow.

“And it's not like you mind that much,” she counters again.

True, you like it when she wears your clothes. Still, not all of your clothes are hers to take.

She even takes your underwear. Or, at least, the ones that you don't mind her taking. Though sometimes she'll put them on and then try to tease you by making sure they're visible by the waistband peeking up from her shorts or her pants.

She tries to justify it by saying, “No one can see me,” and the fact you “see her naked almost every day anyway.”

“My underwear is still my underwear.”

She laughs. “What, you don't like it when I wear them?” She tilts her head.

She knows damn well you like it when she wears them.

She will sit herself on your lap, wearing nothing besides a pair of your underwear and one of your hoodies. She'll start to rock her hips against you, slowly grinding against you as she stares at you.

“Never said that, did I?” you kiss her neck again. “Just saying, they're mine.” Your hands are still keeping her wrists pinned.

She wriggles in your grasp again.

“You use up the hot water trying to shower.”

She always has these long showers that last way longer than necessary. She likes taking her time with it, so half the time you're left showering in cold water. Or just sitting around and waiting till she's done.

Her hair is the reason. Sometimes you'd get frustrated when you're already late to drop Isha off at school, and Jinx is taking a long time in the shower.

But you kind of enjoyed it when you joined her under the shower. 

She snickers. She's probably thinking the same thing. “Only because you jump me in the shower and start messing around,” she says, and she wiggles again, trying to pull her wrists out of your grip, and you tighten your grip on her wrists in response. She bites her bottom lip. “It's not my fault you can't get enough of me.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth again as you lean down, biting at the crook of her neck again. “No,” you respond. “I can't get enough of you.”

She sighs and arches her neck amore, letting you press more kisses against her neck, her jawline, moving towards her ear.

“You paint on my things, even though you have your own.”

She'd doodle in the margins of your newspapers, on the cover of books, on old magazines, and once she even painted designs on a white t-shirt of yours. A shirt that, now, you couldn't wear out anymore. But you kept it because she liked it when you wore it.

You remember coming home to find her painting your shoes pink, then complaining she got your shoes dirty. She was trying to make them 'prettier'.

Or the time she tried to paint the TV. Her excuse was that you needed a paintable TV. Somehow.

“Not all things are paintable.”

She huffs. “Well, all things are if you try hard enough.”

“That's not... you know that's not true,” you mutter as your grip on her wrists loosens.

Once they're free, she immediately lifts them up and hooks them around your shoulders. She pulls you down, pressing herself against you, until all you can hear is the sound of her quickened breathing and the rapid beating of her heart against her ribs.

You bury your face into the crook of her neck, your nose pressing into her skin. Your arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close.

She lifts her hands and lets her fingers tangle into your hair, playing with it before she grabs at your roots, her fingertips pressing into your scalp.

“I love you,” you murmur. “Exactly the way you are.” You pause to let it sink in, but you continue speaking before she can cut you off. “I stay with you because I want to stay with you.”

You can feel her heartbeat, the slow, steady thudding, picking up as she swallows. You can feel her hands, buried in your hair, still holding onto you. And you stay quiet too, until you feel her shift beneath you and her hands move, sliding from your hair to the sides of your face.

She pulls you away, just enough to get a look at your face. She cups your face in her palms.

You hold her hand against your cheek, turning your head as you press a kiss against her palm, before staring down into her eyes. “I'm with you,” you murmur. “Because I choose to be with you. I choose you.”

Your lips brush against the skin of her palm before they move up to her fingers. One by one, you press kisses along the tips of her fingers. “I choose to love you,” you continue. “I choose to hold you close.”

You raise your own hand, taking her palms in your grip, your thumb tracing over the ridges of her knuckles. “I choose to listen to you when you need someone to listen.” You pause to press a kiss on her wrist, feeling her pulse beating against your lips.

“I choose to stay awake with you on the bad nights.” You feel her pulse quicken when you brush your nose against it. “I choose to wake up next to you every morning. And I choose to deal with your morning breath.” You grin, and she smacks your arm at that.

Your thumb runs across the pale, soft skin of her forearms. “I choose to deal with you hogging the blankets and the space in the bed.” Your hand slides to the crook of her elbow, where you press another kiss.

“I choose to wake up to your cold feet against my legs.” Your thumb moves along the inside of her arms, tracing the shape of her bones. “I choose your snoring,” you add. “I choose to wake up with a drool on my shirt because you forgot to close your mouth.” 

You press another kiss onto her skin. “I choose to deal with your bad mood by making you hot chocolate,” you continue. “I choose to deal with your bad mood by pulling you into my lap and making you snuggle with me until you calm down.”

Your hand moves to her biceps, your fingers tracing the curves of her muscles. “I choose to love you even on the hard days,” you mutter. “On the days you can't look at me in the eye. On the days when you can't get out of bed. On the days when you're angry at the world.”

Your hand travels up her arms, your eyes never leaving her face as you finally reach her shoulders. “I choose to stay beside you,” you murmur, your thumb rubbing slowly, soothing circles over her collarbone. “On the days you feel like no one understands. On the days you feel like the world is against you. I choose to stay next to you.”

“I choose to be beside you on the days you can't stand yourself,” you continue. “I choose to be beside you even on the days you think you don't deserve to be loved.”

Your thumb trails up the side of her neck, feeling her pulse quicken when you pause at her throat. “And when the world is dark and cold,” you say. “And the shadows grow long.” Your hand slides further up the long column of her neck, until your thumb sits on her jaw, and you feel her swallow. “I still choose you.”

“I have you in my arms.” Your thumb on her chin, you lift her face, tilting her head. “I have you here,” you mutter. “And even if you're not sure why. Even if you feel like you're a shadow in the dark or a whisper in a silent room,” your thumb slides along the sides of her jaw. “I know you're here, and you're real, and I choose to love you.”

“And whatever comes after this.” Your thumb traces over the line of her jaw, her chin, and upwards again, moving over her lips. “Whatever comes tomorrow. Whenever everything's dark. I still choose you.” Your thumb pauses at the corner of her mouth, and you watch the way her lips part. “I will always choose you.”

Your eyes move upwards, your gaze meeting hers. “Got all that?””

“When did you get so goddamned good at sweet talk?”

“When I met you.”

Jinx wrinkles her nose, scoffing. “Damn, that's kinda cheesy.”

“Well, I was aiming for sappy.”

“You were aiming for corny.”

“Sappy, corny, cheesy.” You shrug. “Potato, potahto.”

She scoffs. “What's next? you're gonna tell me you 'love me to the moon and back'?”

“I love you to the moon and back.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “I regret falling for you.” Her hands slide from your face into your hair again, and she brings your face down, kissing you once, then twice.

You pull away, just far enough that you can look at her face. “Every time you doubt it. I'll remind you. I'll tell you if you forget.”

She shakes her head. “Cheesy.” But she pulls you closer again anyway, stealing another kiss from your lips.

You kiss her back, letting your tongue slip out to drag against her lip. She sighs against your mouth, and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue between her lips. Your hands slide down from her waist to her hips and down to her rear, squeezing her in your palms. 

She shudders, her own hands sliding up to grasp your shoulders as you nip at her bottom lip.

You pull away from the kiss and slide your lips down her jaw, peppering kisses all along the column of her throat. One of your hands slides up from her rear to the hem of her shirt, tugging at it.

She sighs, arching against you as your hand sneaks under the hem of her shirt to touch the bare skin of her stomach.

You slide your hand further up, feeling the smooth skin of her abdomen and the ridges of her ribs, until your fingers are tracing the edge of her bra.

Just when your fingers graze the clasp of her bra, there's a knock at the door. Before you can curse at it, there's a whine from the other side of the door and the doorknob begins to turn.

It's Isha.

She stands in the doorway, her stuffed blue rabbit held tightly in her arms. She's wearing her new pajamas.

You sigh, pulling your hand from underneath her shirt. You look down at Jinx, and her shirt is ridden up enough and a generous amount of her stomach is exposed.

Isha lets go of the doorknob and shuffles into the room.

“What is it, Isha?” Jinx asks, sitting up and pulling her shirt down to cover her stomach. She scoots over on the bed, allowing you to move away from her to sit at the edge.

Isha shuffles closer, stopping just at the edge of the bed but not climbing up, and looks up at the both of you with wide, watery eyes.

“What's wrong, little one?” you ask, beckoning her to climb onto the bed.

She lets go of her bunny to grab at your hand, her fingers curling around your palm. You help her onto the bed, watching as she tucks her rabbit under her arm, once again holding it closely to her chest.

She's sitting between the two of you now, her little hands holding onto your own and Jinx's.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Jinx asks. You watch her lift a hand to brush some of the hair out of Isha's face.

She shakes her head. Her eyes dart down to her bunny, then to the hands that she's holding. 

“Then what's wrong, sweetheart?” You give her hand a squeeze. “Do you want to sleep with us?”

She nods, lifting her gaze to look at you. Her head turns to look at Jinx as well, who simply smiles down at her.

You let out a sigh, letting go of her hand to scoot back on the bed. “Okay.” You pat the empty space between you and Jinx. “Come on, then.”

She wastes no time scrambling over the covers, crawling over so she's sitting between you and Jinx. Jinx grabs her bunny and sets it near the pillow, making sure it's within Isha's reach.

Isha then plops down onto the bed and lays down, pulling her bunny close to her chest once more. Then she rolls over and snuggles up against your side, her head resting on your chest.

“She’s always stealing you from me,” Jinx mutters.

You reach out and pull Jinx against you, sandwiching Isha between the two of you. “Jealous much?”

“Nah.” She props herself up on her elbow to look down at the girl between you and pokes her cheek.

Isha grumbles, burying her face in your chest in an attempt to shield it. You laugh and wrap your arm around her body, holding her securely against you.

Jinx pokes her again, this time prodding a little harder. Isha whines and buries deeper into you.

“Stop it, you're bothering her.” You reach over and grab Jinx's hand so that she can't poke Isha again.

Jinx flips you off, then stops poking the girl. Instead, she lays back down on the bed and drapes her arm over both you and Isha. Isha grumbles, her fingers gripping at your shirt.

You look down at the girl, her head still nestled against your chest. You brush some of the hair out of her face, then gently rub her back. Slowly, her body starts to relax, her tight grip on your shirt loosening as she begins to fall asleep.

You glance over at Jinx, who's watching you with a smile on her face. She reaches over and pats Isha's head a couple of times before returning her hand to your side.

“She's asleep,” you whisper, looking down at the now dozing girl. Her eyes are closed, her tiny hands are no longer gripping at your shirt, and her features are relaxed. Jinx nods, her hand rubbing up and down your side.

Jinx shifts and cuddles closer to you, one of her legs wrapping around yours beneath the covers. “You know, we're going to have to sleep like this all night now,” she mumbles as she runs her fingers through your hair.

“Mmm, don't remind me,” you murmur. “She's as clingy as you sometimes.”

Jinx scoffs, poking you in the ribs with one of her nails. “She's a hundred times worse.”

Your side aches where she poked you, and you huff out a breath, swatting at her hand. “Maybe we should get a bigger bed.”

She snickers. “And risk having more room for little miss clingy to steal you from me? no thank you.”

“I think it is quite literally impossible for you to get clingier,” you mutter. “Besides, why are you so jealous of a ten year old?”

“I can be plenty clingy,” Jinx counters, her hand scratching at your scalp. “And I'm not jealous,” she continues. “She just needs to stay in her own goddamn bed.”

“We could start locking the door?”

Jinx snorts, her hand leaving your head. “And leave her to bang on and whine at the door for hours?” She scoffs. “Absolutely not. I'd be fine if she didn't crawl into our bed, but she always does the moment we're trying to have some alone time.”

“Fair enough” you sigh. “Maybe we could lock her door, keep her in there.”

Jinx laughs, poking at you again with a fingernail. “Or, or... we could just lock her out of our room instead and let her deal with herself for once.”

“You know that would never work,” you say. “She’d just end up sleeping on the floor in front of our door until we let her back in.”

“Ugh, I know.” She groans. “She really is the biggest pain in my ass. Second biggest, now that I think about it.”

“And who's the first?”

“Who do you think, dickhead?” she teases.

“Ah, me, of course.” Jinx pokes you in the ribs again. “Ouch. Hey, stop that,” you murmur, swatting at her hand.

Jinx scoffs, a smirk on her face as she pokes you again. “It's so fun to annoy you.” Her finger pokes into your side for a third time.

“Okay, okay, enough,” you grab her hand to stop another poke. “I surrender, you're the biggest pain in my ass.”

“I know,” Jinx grins, pulling her hand free to poke you one final time before resting it back down on your side. “I'm also the hottest pain in your ass, too. No one else compares.”

“You're the hottest and the biggest pain in both of my ass cheeks.” You brush some of her hair away from her face.

“Damn right,” she says, leaning into your touch for a moment before grinning and placing her palm against one of your ass cheeks. “My pain in the ass.”

—

“Ugh. She's still asleep?” Jinx whispers, staring down at the drooling little girl between the two of you.

You look down at her, her face pressed against your chest and a pool of drool collecting on your shirt. You try to shift away, but the girl won't let you go, her body and fingers still wrapped around you.

“You know…” you whisper, looking pointedly at the drool on your shirt. “She's just like you.”

You swear you just saw her eyes twitch.

...you end up on the floor the moment you wake up after that.

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Cereal

Bucky Barnes x Single Mom! Reader

The Boy looks upon the many shelves of cereal. Some are bland, some are sugary, and others are healthy. Some have cartoon characters on the box, and many have real-life heroes. With all these heroes, he still couldn't find his. The boy sighed, his lips quivering. He wipes his eyes before his tears even begin to slip.

"Honey?" his mother called for him.

"He's not here," His voice shakes and tears spilling over.

"What do you mean?" she asked as she gently moved him to the side out of the way of after customers.

"H-he doesn't have o-one." He points to the shelves as he begins to cry. She tucks his face into her stomach as she takes a look at the shelves for herself. And her boy was right, his hero was not amongst those on the shelve.

"I'm sorry," she tried to rub his back, providing some comfort. " We'll look at different stores. Don't worry."

"No," he cried. This was the third store in a week, and they still hadn't found it. He was tired, and he knew they weren't going to find it. Frustratedly, he snatched off his prosthetic arm and tossed it down the aisle. ( Moments like this made her grateful she bought plastic).

"Absolutely not. We don't throw things." The round of gasps and how quickly the aisle emptied told her all she needed to know. They would not be making any purchases here today.

Wiping his tears, she stood up to retrieve the arm, only to find a man holding it.

"Excuse me, that's my son's." He was a tall, big man in a baseball cap, thick coat, and leather gloves. And in those gloved hands was her son's prosthetic.

He hands it to her, and she gives him a small thanks.

"How'd he lose it? If- If you don't mind me asking?"

She took a deep breath. This was going to go one of two ways. The educational route and she'd possibly teach this man something new or bashing route, and this man would get disrespectful, and she'd probably have to call security or the police.

"He didn't lose it. He was born without." She moved to her son, tucking him into her side. His cries had stopped, but his tears were still streaming.

"I ....there was an accident and lost mine." The man said, massaging his left hand. She didn't understand why he was telling them this. But she did appreciate him sharing a piece of him. " Why is he crying?"

"He has a favorite hero. He's like him, and we were trying to find his cereal or his snack or... just anything with him on it. We can't seem to find him anywhere."

"May I?" the man asked, motioning to her son, asking permission to approach him. She granted it and watched as he kneeled in front of her son, who was still tucked into her side. His tears had dried, and he seemed to be in ...awe?

It wasn't until the man removed his gloves, then cap, that she realized who he was, and she felt like an idiot. She had been researching this man with every free moment she had ever since her son declared him to be his favorite and just like him. And she couldn't tell the difference between him on stage and him in a baseball cap.

Embarrassing.

"Hi, my name is Bucky, what's yours?"

Her son whispered his name as he blushed. " That's a cool arm you got their bud."

"I have another one that's cooler. It has space on it," he said as his mother kneeled, putting it back on his elbow.

"That does sound cooler. Mine doesn't really have anything on it." Bucky said, pulling up his sleeve to show off his metal appendage. The son gasped in amazement as he stepped forward, his little fingers reaching and tracing the gold and black plates. The man watched him carefully as he touched and stayed very still.

She would have corrected her son's rude behavior any other time, but right now, with the awe on his face and the smile on Mr. Barnes's face, she didn't want to interrupt. Plus, she was as in awe as the fluorescent lights made it shine—both the arm and his smile.

"A friend made it for me. It's made of a special metal called vibranum."

"Like your friend's shield?" He whispered as he pulled away.

"Exactly," he whispered in return as he stood up. She stood up as well.

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes. That was very kind of you, and we really appreciate it."

Bucky is fine, Mrs?" he said.

"(Y/n), (Y/n) (L/n). No, Mrs. No husband," she regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. But that didn't shut her up. " There is no one else. Just me. Just us."

Bucky gave a soft smile and nodded. " I'm sorry to hear that." He didn't look or sound sorry. "Listen, Um, I volunteer at this rehab for kids, and they have a lot of programs there, so if your son wanted, he could come join." Bucky pulled out a flyer from his pocket, unfolded it, and handed it over to her. It looked to be a place for physically disabled children.

"This looks nice, actually. Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem. My number is on the back if you need any help with the program or stuff. or just ... Want to hang out ." Bucky cringed on how that came, but she just smiled and laughed. She turned the flyer over to see his number was indeed on the back.

"Oh"

"Hopefully, I'll see you two there."

"Definitely, I mean, yes. We'll be there, won't we, buddy."

"Will you be there?" The boy asked.

"As long as the world doesn't need saving, I'm there every other afternoon."

"Hopefully, the world doesn't need saving when we come by." she teased.

"Even if it did, I'm sure the others could handle it on their own. I wouldn't leave a doll like you waiting."

Doll.

Doll. She didn't know how, but with a single word, the man nearly put her on her knees. Suddenly, her heart had quickened, and her legs were shaky. And the way he bit his lips after and looked her up and down. Was he trying to devour her with such a stare? When did the atmosphere change?

A little squeak brought them both back to reality and reminded them of their little audience. No flirting in front of the babies.

"We'll be there, Mr. B...Bucky. We'll be there." Taking her son's hand, she turned to leave before stopping and saying, " I'll call."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Bye-bye," the boy waved to his hero with a big grin on his face. As he watched them walk away. His cereal crisis was long forgotten.

[lesservillain]

Request: Friends to lovers with Steve? We want so desperately for him to notice us, but he never asks us to hang out outside of the group. We’ve got to take matters into our own hands…or do we?

i wrote all of this in one sitting so enjoy!

cw: smut, piv, perv steve

wc: 3.3k

You looked yourself over in the mirror a few times to make sure everything was in place. There would be other people at this pool party, including the kids, so you weren’t trying to show off too much. But you wanted to made sure you looked good. Good enough for him.

It had been a long time crush, longer than you’d like you admit, that turned into a head over heels affection for Steve Harrington as recently as last year. When you were tossed into the throws that was “the Starcourt Mall incident,” you saw how brave and caring he could be in real time when it came to putting himself before you and the others. It just solidified the feelings that you’d been harboring for the king since before he started working with you at Scoops Ahoy.

But Steve just didn’t seem to feel the same way about you.

You watched as he flirted with countless girls at the mall as they came in for ice cream, and you’ve seen him do the same with the girls at Family Video where he now works with Robin. You even thought that him and Robin might be having a secret fling, but she assured you that was not the case. Either way, Steve never seemed to even be more than friendly with you. And it was really starting to bum you out.

Now that you work at your mom’s hair salon, the only way the two of you really see each other was when the whole gang would get together. Which today happened to be such an occasion. It was Dustin’s birthday party and the weather was warm enough that Steve decided to throw him a pool party at his house. Dustin extended an invite to you and you decided it would be the perfect opportunity to finally catch Steve’s attention.

You checked out the two piece on your body in the mirror. The ruffled top accentuated your breasts and the bottoms were just peaky enough to leave more to be desired. Plus the navy really brought out the colour of your eyes. You did feel a little dumb putting on make up and doing your hair, but you didn’t plan on going under the water so you were sure you’d be fine.

When you pulled up to Steve’s house you could already hear the kids being rowdy in the back yard. You grabbed Dustin’s gift from your back seat and went around the back to find everyone there. It didn’t take long to find Steve, manning the grill in his swim trucks and a cropped, sleeveless t-shirt. Jesus christ.

“You came!” Dustin shouted from the pool grabbing your attention.

“Of course I came!” You reply, raising the wrapped box in your hand. “Wouldn’t miss my little buddy’s big 15th!”

“Told you guys she would come,” Dustin says pointing this thumb in your direction. The kids all rolled their eyes at him and continued swimming around in the pool.

“Hey,” Steve says, giving you a wave. “You can set that inside if you want. Don’t want these bone heads to accidentally get it wet with one of their water guns.”

That's when you noticed. The entire front of Steve’s body was clearly drenched in water and it was leaving little to the imagination about what was underneath. His chest hair was clearly visible through the shirt, as were his nipples…

“Earth to dingus, are you okay?”

Robin’s voice snapped you out of your trance.

“Y-yeah, sorry, I’m just feeling a little spacey today is all.”

“Sure you are,” she said with wiggled eyebrows. Robin didn’t know you had a crush on Steve, but you were sure she expected it, even though you denied it anytime she asked.

“Do you want a beer?” Steve asks, bending over to grab one from the cooler.

“Sure,” you say with a slight stutter. This was going to be a long day, and you might as well have a drink to help you keep it together.

“I’ll help you take that inside,” Robin says after Steve hands you a beer. You nod and the two of you go through the sliding glass door. 

There were several other gifts set out on the table so you just sat your gift there with the rest. When you turned to look at Robin, she had a shit eating grin on her face.

“What?” You ask, trying to keep as collected as possible.

“Oh, nothing,” she says, “Just seemed like you were checking Steve out out there.”

“Robin, I was not checking him out.”

“I knew you’d deny it. But I have eyes, and I can tell when someone wants to eat another person alive.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at her.

“Steve is just a friend. I was just surprised to see him soaking wet is all.”

“At a pool party?”

Shit, she got you there.

“I guess I hadn’t thought about that.”

“I’m sure you hadn’t.”

There was a pause between you two before she inevitably turned and opened the sliding glass door. As soon as you walked out you heard your name being called from the pool.

“Come get in the pool, we need one more person for volleyball!”

Ah, yes, perfect time to unveil yourself.

“Okay, coming!” You say walking over to one of the pool chairs. You started to undress, hoping that Steve was watching you as you did. Shirt was off first; you made it a point to bend over in his direction when you pulled your shorts down. You heard a huff from Robin, who you were sure was seeing right through you, but you weren’t going to entertain her.

You took a chance to look over at Steve, who, to your dismay, seemed to be too preoccupied with the grill to have even looked your way. Damn it.

“Cute bathing suit,” El says from the pool.

“Thanks!” You say. At least someone noticed.

“What does it look like?” Max asks from the pool steps.She was looking in your general direction, but you knew she wouldn’t be able to see you from so far away, even with her glasses. You moved closer to her so she could see better.

“It’s navy blue, with some ruffles on the top and a little ruffle skirt.” You take her hand and let her touch the material so she can get a better idea.

“Shit!” You turn to see Steve holding his hand, wincing in pain.

“You okay, chef?” Robin asks.

“Yeah, just got too close to the grill is all.”

“Come on, lets play already!”

Your attention is taken away from Steve yet again by the teens calling for you. Dustin announces he wants you on his team and everyone groans.

“You only want her on your team because she’s an adult,” Lucas says.

“And your point is?” Dustin retorts.

“I’m honestly not that good, Dustin,” you tell him.

“We’ll see about that.”

And saw he did.

Even with El not using her powers, her, Mike, and Lucas beat you Dustin and Will by a landslide victory.

“Told you,” you shrug at him.

“It’s alright,” Dustin says defeated.

“I still think El cheated,” Will says.

“Did not!”

“Hey, food’s ready!”

That got the kids attention. They all rushed out, Lucas stopping to help Max get out as they did. They all hoarded around Steve who passed out dogs and burgers to everyone.

“What will you take?” He asks when he finally gets to you.

“A hotdog, please,” you say, holding your plate with the bun on it for him.

“Don’t shake it!”

“But nothing’s coming out-woah!”

It takes your brain a minute to process the feeling of something hitting you. You raise your hand to your hair and it instantly touches something wet and slimy. Bringing it back down, you look at your hand to find it’s covered in mustard.

The first thing you do is look at Steve, whose expression makes your heart drop. You probably look like a total idiot right now.

“Dude…” Steve turns to look beside you.

“I am, so, so sorry,” you hear Dustin say.

“It’s okay,” you say, more so telling yourself that rather than getting upset over an accident.

“Do you want to use my shower?” Steve asks, looking at you pitifully.

“Thanks.”

“Gimme that,” Steve says, grabbing the mustard bottle from Dustin as he walks past.

“Hey, I was still going to use that!”

“Just turn the knob to, like, right here and the water should be plenty warm for you.”

Steve shows you how to use the shower while mustard still drips from your hair. At least he’s not making fun of you. Just another reason to love him

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Don’t thank me,” he says, turning to look at you. He’s very close to you in this bathroom, so much so you can smell his sweaty skin and cologne. “If you want I can run your bathing suit through the dryer real quick.”

“That would be perfect, thanks.” He stands there for a moment, and you don’t really know what to do. “Um, I’ll get undressed now.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” He leaves the bathroom and pulls the door shut.

You start to pull the bathing suit off when the bathroom door starts to open.

“What the hell,” you say, closing the door.

“Oh, sorry,” Steve calls through the door, “This door is broken and doesn’t always stay latched. I’ll stand outside the door while you shower to make sure no one comes by.”

“Okay,” you call back.

Once undressed, you stand behind the door the best you can and stick your arm through the opening. Steve takes your bathing suit and you close the door behind you.

You do your best not to wash your make up off while in Steve’s shower. You do take the time to huff his sweet smelling shampoo. You’ve smelled it on him before, and it reminds you of him. It was crazy to think he was just on the other side of the door while you were in here. The idea made you a little crazy. Something to think about later tonight when you’re alone.

Turning the water off, you pull back the curtain and find that the bathroom door is cracked open a bit. You decided not to think much of it. Not like anyone would see you while Steve was manning the door

You took the towel that Steve had given you and started to dry off before wrapping your hair in it. You wondered if Steve had a blow dryer some where and decided to ask.

“Steve?”

You hear a thump from the other side of the door.

“Y-yeah,” you hear him reply.

“Do you have a hair dryer?”

There’s a quiet pause.

“Under the sink,” he replies.

“Thanks!”

You bend over and look for his hair dryer, finding it hanging on the side of the cabinet on a little hook. A smart idea.

Plugging it in, you take the towel out of your hair and lay it over the shower rod to dry. You take your time to dry it, you used your fingers to run through it since you didn’t have a comb.

“You can use my brush,” you hear from behind you. It startles you, and you look at the door through the mirror.

You’re shocked when you can see an eye peeking through the crack.

You place the dryer back down on the counter and grab the towel, wrapping it back around your body slowly. 

Then, you suddenly grab the door and swing it wide open.

You weren’t sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t Steve Harrington with his cock in his hand.

“I can explain!” He says, covering himself. Well, trying to cover himself. He was huge. So big in fact that not even his big hands could cover the horse between his legs.

“Steve…were you spying on me?”

“I-I-wasn’t-I was--”

There’s no way this was real life. You’ve been trying to get Steve Harrington to notice you for months and you catch him not only jerking himself off, but doing it while spying on you.

So you make a bold move.

“Steve.” You drop your towel, fully exposing yourself to him. His eyes drop with the towel, slowly moving back up your body, examining you closely.

“If you wanted to fuck me, all you had to do was ask.”

He stands there, still as a statue as he tries to compute the words that just came out of your mouth. Since he didn’t seem to be getting the hint, you decide to grab him by the shirt and pull him into the bathroom. Pushing the door closed behind you, you hear it latch just fine.

“Are you going to say something, Stevie?” You say in a silky smooth voice.

“I-I--”

But you don’t give him the chance to stutter more. You take his cheeks in your hands and bring his lips to yours. The smell of his aftershave fills your senses as your lips move in tandem, waking him up from his stupor enough to get the hint.

He starts to take off his shorts, letting them drop to the floor and kicking them off. His shirt comes next, your lips parting for just a moment to let the fabric pull over his head. You let your hands land on his chiseled chest, fingers desperately running through the hair that resides there. The feeling only confirming that this was indeed happening.

His hands land on your hips, sliding down until they reach your ass. He cups you, and suddenly you’re being lifted up and onto the counter. He pushes you back, kissing you with such force that you hit the mirror behind you.

“You were so hot out there undressing,” he says as his lips trail down to your neck. “And when you let Max see your swimsuit. That was so sweet of you.”

“Really, that’s what got you going?” Your laugh turns into a moan as his hands grope your breasts.

“I’ve got a soft spot for those kids. Seeing you be nice to them just--” His lips meet yours again, his teeth taking your lower lip and pulling on it.

One of his hands moves from your breast and lowers down to between your legs. You feel him rub his fingers in your wetness and it makes your breath hitch when he hits your clit.

“Right there, huh?” He says, his fingers beginning to rub gentle circles into your bud.

“Oh, shit, Steve--”

“Sound so pretty when you say my name,” he says against your ear.

He does some moving between your legs and you suddenly feel his finger making its way inside of you, his thumb replacing them to keep tending to your clit. His finger pumps inside of you at a breathtaking pace, the thick digit hitting that spot inside you.

“You’re so wet. Is that for me or is it just from the shower?”

“Definitely for you,” you pant out. You could feel yourself getting close to your release the more he worked you. When he added a second finger stretching you out more, you felt the coil tightening at an alarming rate.

“Oh my god, Steve, I’m gonna--”

“Do it. Cum for me, baby girl.”

That chord snaps, and you start to cum on Steve’s fingers, legs shaking around him as you do.

Steve slows down, letting you come down from your high while giving you kisses all over your neck and cheeks.

“You think you’re ready for me, baby?”

You nod your head drunkenly. Steve uses the spend on his fingers to pump himself, lubricating his cock with it before bringing the head to your entrance. In a moment of clarity you almost panic. The sheer size of Steve between your legs had you worried.

“It’ll fit, I promise.” He says as if reading your mind. You gulp, but choose to trust him. “Just tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop.”

You nod your head again, and the both of you watch as Steve lines himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing into you. The stretch was something else. You’d never been with anyone as big as Steve before and it started to make you question any guy you’d been with before.

But he took his time. He definitely knew his limits and rocked in and out of you at a gentle pace until he found himself fully sheathed inside of you.

“You ready?” He asks in a sultry tone, giving you a half smile.

“Y-yes, please,” you gasp out, still amazed that he was able to fit.

Steve chuckles and begins to move. And it feels amazing. It wasn’t a brutal pace, but as it picked up, you could definitely understand why all the girls in high school talked about his game back in the day. This was the fullest you’d ever felt in your life.

But Steve wasn’t just fucking you. No, this felt like there was passion behind it. Something about the way he was staring between you with an open mouth expression really turned you. It didn’t feel like just a random fuck on a random Tuesday.

“Steve, Steve, Steve,” you moan out as his hips smack into your ass over and over.

“That’s right baby girl, tell me who’s fucking you right now,” he says as his pace starts to quicken.

“You are, oh my god, you are, Steve,” you say. You start to feel that familiar feeling in your stomach again the more he pounds into you.

“Fuck yea,” he moans, moving in close to take your lips as his once again. “Been wanting-to do-this for-a while.” He talks between kisses and his words set your body aflame. Steve wanted to fuck you. If you weren’t experience it in real time, you’d say this was just another one of your wet dreams.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” he says as he pulls away. His thumb returns to your clit to rub quick circles  into it, only heating you up more.

“Fuck, fuck, Steve--” You feel yourself getting closer to the edge as he continues to work you. It’s not much longer before you feel yourself cumming on his cock, squeezing and contracting around him in a way that drives him crazy. And in just a few more pumps, you feel Steve starting to fill you up. 

After a moment, you finally come down from your high to see Steve panting like he just ran a marathon. You’re about to speak when he brings his lips to yours. Even in his post nut clarity, he feels the need to kiss you like a man starved.

But you kiss him back joyfully, glad to know that this wasn’t just going to be one big mistake for him.

“That was--”

“Crazy.” 

“Yeah,” he says with a smile that melts your heart.

You wince as he pulls himself out of you. He grabs the towel from the ground and reaches around you to wet the end of it, using it as a rag to clean you up.

“You’re too sweet, Steve Harrington,” you say with hearts in your eyes.

“Nah, I just really like you,” he says throwing the towel to the ground.

“You like me?” You say with surprise. “Like, like me, like me?”

He looks at you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“For a while now. I just didn’t want it to become a whole thing with the kids if I asked you out and you turned me down.”

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t do that. I’ve liked you longer than you’ve even known I existed.”

Steve head tilts back and he laughs that sweet laugh of his. 

“Of all the girls I try and ask out, the one I had a chance with is the one I actively avoided.”

“I guess you should ask her out then. She’d probably say yes.”

“How’s Friday night looking for you?”

“Looks like I’ll be busy with Steve Harrington.”

[zvdvdlvr]

— Lunch Break

— 🫧. Synopsis. Spencer hasn’t been feeling well lately. When he accidentally gives you his lunch as well as yours, you have to leave work to make sure he gets his lunch and eats to make sure he gets better. But the thing is, no one knew Spencer had married someone.

— 🫧. Warnings. Blue!collar reader. Female reader. Collective group shock lmao. Foul language. Welder!reader. Pet names. Possible out of character Spencer but i dont really care. I’m so sleep deprived yall.

— 🫧. Other welder!reader pieces. Alive and Breathing.

“Bye, angel,” you murmured after pressing a kiss to your sleepin husband’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Spencer replied tiredly, eyes opening the slightest bit. “I already put your lunch in your cooler. Be safe.”

You smiled. Of course, even though you have to leave at 2 in the morning, Spencer’s already five steps ahead. You turned to leave the bedroom but stopped after hearing him cough. “Before you leave- I got you a few more boxes of that DayQuill/NyQuill stuff and Mucinex. Should be on the counter. Make sure you take them, Spence. I know you haven’t been feeling well. Bye, I love you,” you spoke quickly, throwing your coat on.

Spencer felt a smile forming on his face. His wife: always attentive and gentle (to him at least). “I love you, baby.”

“Hey,” Spencer greeted, picking up his phone and heading out of the bullpen. “What’s up?” Spencer was confused: you didn’t usually call him or contact him when you were at work unless it was absolutely necessary. Were you in trouble? “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright, angel. I’m coming over to drop off your lunch. You, uh,” your voice paused, probably observing other drivers’ movements at a red light. “You gave me my lunch and yours. So I’m on my way. Do you want me to come up or… drop it off? I’m all dirty ‘n everything,” you rambled.

“I think you look hot when you get off of work,” Spencer replied with a smile. He felt himself sigh. He was glad nothing had happened to you.

Your laugh crackled through the line. “That’s because it’s a very physical job, Spence.”

Spencer chuckled, “No, babe, I think you’re just… naturally very attractive.”

“You’re too good for me, Spence. Did you take your medicine? You sound pretty nasally,” you questioned.

“Yeah, I took it,” Spencer replied quietly with a smile on his face. You noticed everything- and Spencer was the profiler! “Anyway, I gotta go, babe. Drive safe, my beautiful wife. I love you.”

“I love you too, husband.”

Spencer tucked his ohone back into his pocket and wandered back out to the bullpen. “Hey, so… I have something to tell you,” Spencer blurted out to Emily and Derek who were watching him like a hawk.

“What is it?” Emily asked immediately, eyebrows furrowing.

“So, I want to apologize for keeping this for so long but I just- I didn’t know how to tell you. I mean, not to mention the fact that you wouldn’t have believed me anyway but that’s not the point. The point is I want you to stay calm and don’t be mad at me.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, kid, slow your roll. What’s goin’ on?” Derek asked.

Spencer looked at both Emily and Derek before sighing. “My wife is gonna be swinging by soon and… she’s… all I’m asking is don’t scare her away. Actually,” Spencer paused, smiling slightly, “she might scare you a little bit.”

Emily’s brows raised higher then Spencer previously thought possible. “You… What?” She asked, standing up.

“You’re actually joking.” Derek stated, face solemn. “You’re joking, man, come on.”

Spencer shrugged, hand coming up to pull the necklace his ring was on from under his shirt to show his coworkers. “We went to the courthouse one year, eleven months. two weeks, four days, and twelve hours ago.”

Derek blinked. “Are- You’re seriously not joking?”

“I have the documents at home to prove it,” Spencer replied, tucking it back under his shirt. “If, you know, you want to see them.”

“I’d rather see her in person,” Emily stated, already starting her pacing. “But like, you didn’t kidnap her or anything did you?”

Spencer shook his head. “No, believe me. She loves me, Emily. I love her.”

Derek sat, hands on his head. “So we missed the wedding and everything? You didn’t say a word, man.”

Spencer nodded. “We were gonna tell you, invite you over for our anniversary.”

“Spencer, what’s her name?” Emily asked suddenly.

“Who’s name?” A low, gravely voice asked. Aaron Hotchner stood, hands on his hips, staring each of his agents down.

“Spencer’s wife’s,” Derek responded slowly.

“Oh,” Hotch replied casually.

“You knew?!” Emily asked loudly, mouth dropped open in shock.

“I saw he added someone else to the insurance, and there was another emergency contact. I haven’t seen her though,” Hotch answered honestly.

“When’s she gonna be here?”

“Soon. She called me probably five minutes ago, so estimating the amount of traffic about this time, I’d guess probably ten minutes.”

“I assume you can find something to do for ten minutes?” The corner of Hotch’s lip turned up just the slightest bit, and he had a hint of amusement in his voice. When Derek finally tore his eyes off of Spencer and Emily bee-lined for her desk, Hotch turned around and stalked over to Rossi’s office to tell him the good news.

Spencer stood up when he heard the unmistakable sound of your steel-toed boots making comtact with the floor. A sweet smile painted his face as he gravitated to you, shoulders relaxing at your presence. “Hey, baby,” he whispered when he was close enough to you.

“Hi you,” you replied, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You brandished a brown paper bag, Spencer’s name written in your handwriting.

Emily watched you walk in. You were wearing two shirts, dark in color with small holes decorating the sleeves and the hem of both shirts. Your pants were dark and thick, dark liquids and stains all over them. The boots on your feet were definitely thick: steel toed if Emily had to guess. A physical worker, she put the pieces together. Electician? That wouldn’t explain all the stains. Mechanic? Couldn’t be: why would your shirts be all torn if you were fixing cars? Welder? The pieces fit, though Emily wasn’t too educated in that department. She had respect for you. Not many women Emily knew could handle the responsibilities of such a physical job, or handle all the creeps, jerks, and perverts that passed in your workplace.

“Derek,” Emily whisper-yelled. He looked up and she gestured to where Spencer had strode over to you.

“Come on.”

Emily stood up, brushing her hands on her pants and followed Derek to where you were conversing.

“-come back? He’s been slacking off too much, baby, you shouldn’t let him keep relying on you to get his stuff done,” Spencer rambled angrily.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Spence. How are you feeling? I brough- oh. Hi,” you greeted.

“Hi! Mrs. Reid, right?” Emily asked, sticking her hand out.

You smiled brightly and nodded. When you saw her hand and showed her your own: “I don’t, uh, think you’d want to do that,” you murmured.

“Doesn’t bother me,” Emily assured honestly.

You returned her genuine smile and clasped her hand. “Thank you. You’re… Emily? Right? And then you’re Derek?” You asked, turning to face Morgan.

“That’s us,” Morgan answered.

“I don’t think Spencer’s brought me up. I’m y/n Reid,” you introduced. “Sorry for all the grime. I came to drop off Spencer’s lunch,” you explained, shooting Spencer a smile, who kept his eyes trained on you the whole time.

“Good to meet you, y/n.” Emily said. “If… if you’re alright with it, I’d like to get the team together. To meet you. If,” she glanced between you and Spencer who was watching you unblinkingly, “that is okay with both of you? I don’t want to push you.”

Derek side eyed Emily. Penelope would probably scare y/n away, even though she didn’t mean to.

“Up to you, baby,” Spencer murmured when you turned to face him.

“Doesn’t bother me,” you answered. Glancing at your Casio, you nodded, “I’ve got an hour.”

“It’ll be fast,” Emily reassured with a smile.

Emily and Derek split up, Emily going up to get Rossi and Hotch, Derek rounding up JJ and Garcia.

“Are you sure, baby?” Spencer asked. He led you to his desk, setting down the bag you gave him. “I don’t- they-“

“Do you want us to do this another day? When I’m not in my work clothes?” You asked, refusing to sit down on anything.

Spencer shook his head. “No, no. I just want you to be prepared. They can be overwhelming.”

“‘Overwhelming’ I hear?”

You turned your head and saw two men and Emily walking towards you both. The younger looking one was Hotchner because you knew David Rossi’s face; him being a famous author and everything.

“Hello! You must be the missus,” Rossi greeted, sticking his hand out. Good lord, you thought, feds and their handshakes.

You showed Rossi your dirt stained hands and opened her mouth.

“We’ve touched dead bodies, y/n. I promise we won’t get upset at a little grease,” Emily explained gently. Good god, you thought.

Regardless, you shook Rossi and Hotch’s hand, grateful for Emily’s reassurance. Spencer wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He leaned in, whispering “You’re doing great, baby.”

“So,” Hotch began, “I want to personally thank you for keeping Reid sane and healthy.”

Emily and Rossi both laughed. “Yeah, he’s got enough trouble on the field,” Emily joked.

You elbowed Spencer, a grin painting your face. “Is that right?”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s right or not: I’ll always come back to you,” Spencer replies softly, eyed swiftly darting to your lips.

“Spencer!” You reprimanded, smacking him (lightly) on the stomach. “Your bosses are right there, you-“

A loud shriek cut you off, making everyone’s gaze dart to a person behind you. “She’s real! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Reid! You didn’t even drop a singular hint that you were hitched!”

Spencer chuckled, pulling your form a little closer to his. “If I remember correctly, JJ saw my ring when I was asleep on the plane: I assumed she had told everyone and you didn’t want to bring it up.”

“For a genius, you’re pretty dumb,” a new voice cut in. “Hi, I’m Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ.” The blonde smiled warmly and brought you in for a swift hug.

“Ah! Hello, you gorgeous soul! I’m Penelope!” A shorter blonde, more colorful and energetic, embraced you. “I’m so glad to meet you, even though, you know, I didn’t even knew you existed until about two minutes ago.” She shot your husband a look. “But, I would cery much like to get to know you, as would JJ and Emily if you can’t tell.”

You smiled. “I’d love to now, but seeing as I’m technically on my lunch break, I don’t think I’ll have time to do everything you probably have in mind. Could we,” you turned to Spencer, eyes glinting, “bring them over for dinner?”

“Anything you want, babe,” Spencer replied. Truly, if you had asked him to give you his heart, he would find a way to rip the organ out of his chest and give it to you in his bood stained hands. Dinner? No problem.

“I’ll give you my number. Penelope could make a groupchat or something,” you suggested.

Everyone nodded. Hotch was looking forward to this dinner. And Rossi, no matter what he said.

After you gave Penelope your phone number and everyone dispersed, Emily and Derek were wise enough to go busy themselves with a vending machine.

“You alright, baby?” Spencer asked.

You nodded. “I’m alright. Glad I finally met them. I, uh, hope you’re not mad about the dinner thing.”

Spencer scoffed. “I wouldn’t get mad over that.”

You shrugged. “Well. I should probably head back to work. Sorry for getting you all dirty,” you apologized again, pulling away from Spencer quickly, remembering you were in your work attire.

“It’s alright, baby. ‘M just glad I got to see you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, a sly smile forming on your face. “You’ve been awfully sappy lately, Spence. Are you sure you’re alright? I’m seriously considering taking you to a doctor.”

Spencer laughed. “I’m your sap,” he responded casually.

“Okay. Seriously. Stop making me get lost in your eyes because I got to go to work. Bye. I love you,” you babbled, pulling Spencer down to kiss you.

“Bye, wife,” Spencer whispered into your lips.

“Bye, husband.”

[yuff7e]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ tanjiro, inosuke, & zenitsu bf headcanons !! gender neutral reader

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ tanjiro !!

- literally the cutest ever.

- he’s soso respectful and genuine

- if you want a boy that will genuinely listen to you and how you feel about certain things, get a tanjiro.

- he deserves sm love and he’d definitely put you in his top priorities while also making sure you weren’t getting hurt in the process !!

- he’s a big fan of physical touch, so if you’re also training to be a hashira don’t be surprised when everytime he passes you he brushes his hand up against yours. (HES SO CUTE IMA EAT HIM)

- WILL defend you.

- like if someone’s talking bad about you he’s walking right up to them with no fear

- of course, he isn’t aggressive so he would handle the situation calmly

- “why are you saying that about [name]-sama? did they do something to you?”

- will purposely choose you each time they get to pick who they want to train with, and will get a little jelly if u don’t pick him

- but it’s fine !! as long as he sees you happy he’s happy.

- you’re one of the people he trusts with nezuko during the daytime, and will let you carry her box if you ask

- he enjoys seeing you and his sister spending time together, he feels like you’re genuinely apart of his family

- he finds comfort in you when he’s missing his family, and isn’t ashamed to cry or show his true emotions infront of you

- he likes it when you hang out with inosuke and zenitsu too, but gets a little embarrassed if they act weird.

- like, if zenitsu starts flirting with you or inosuke starts screaming like a grizzly bear

- he knows you wouldn’t judge him though, he just wishes his friends acted cooler around you !! because … you’re so cool !!

- “i want to be with you forever, [name]-chan.”

—

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ inosuke !!

- ohh boy, you got this man’s attention.

- if you seriously got him to like you and date you, you’re the one and you don’t have a choice

- you’re definitely his top priority besides defeating muzan

- like genuinely you’re right up there, you’re over his basic needs like eating and sleeping

- he can get a little flustered if you’re a fan of physical touch and decide to touch him in front of tanjiro or zenitsu

- but he secretly loves it, although he’d never tell you that !! (just kidding, he absolutely would but would make you swear to never tell anyone)

- WILL flex infront of you during training, especially his arm and back muscles. since he’s so flexible he’d show that off too

- “hey babe check this out!” (cue him spinning on his head, crashing into 4 different hashiras and getting in trouble)

- he’d have those moments where he’d just stare at you and gawk, not even in a weird way but genuinely just because he likes you so much

- like you’re so attractive !! and nice !! and… amazing !!

- if you were as flexible and strong as him just know he’d be picking you and training everyday and not hold back

- like he’d throw you over his head and if you lost he’d laugh at you, but if you win and knock him over your head he’d be head over heels

- he loves it when you beat him, which sounds crazy considering the fact inosuke is a pretty sore loser .. but when it comes to you and seeing how strong you are he’s so impressed

- that was one of the main reasons he started to like you

- you’re basically his idol, and that MEANS SOMETHIMG BRO !!!! RAAHGG !!

- i think his love language would be gift giving, hes definitely showing up to the demon corps with a pretty rock he found and putting it on your nightstand and wait for you to notice

- “inosuke! did you get me this?”

- “no”

—

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ zenitsu !!

- such a flirt we already know this

- but, he’s also extremely respectful

- he has pretty bad self control but if he genuinely likes you and who you are instead of just what you look like he’s actually a great guy

- he’s the definition of if he wanted to he would

- like, if you’re sad he’d get you 3 bouquets of roses and the other 3 would be outside because he couldn’t carry them all

- “zenitsuu!! you didn’t have to do that!!”

- “if it’s for my lady/man i’d do anything!!”

- his love language is love in any form

- physical touch, gift giving, words of affirmation

- but omg does this boy needs words of affirmation

- there’s a big part of him that feels unworthy of your love, like - you seriously love him? no way.

- will wake up with a HUGE smile on his face every morning with you being the first thing on his mind

- would beg to share a room with you alone, not for anything weird (although zenitsu is lowkey so weird) he genuinely doesn’t want his friends to see you sleeping (╥﹏╥)

- he gets so jelly over every single thing, like - why do inosuke and tanjiro get to see you sleeping?! in your purest form!! ahhhhh!!

- would pick you every time during training and if you pick someone else he’s begging you to train with him until you finally give in and train with him

- if not and you’re adamant on training with somebody else he’s giving that person a death stare the whole time, no exceptions

- unless you tell him to stop, he’ll try - but he can’t help himself… you’re just so amazing

- he always talks to you about yalls future together and will actually get emotional as he speaks, holding onto your hands as he speaks about how yall are going to have 5 kids and a big house

- “i love you so much [name]-chan!!! i want you to marry me!!!”

—

yay that’s it !! thx for reading guys :3 i might do the other hashiras next, but if anyone has any demon slayer requests PLEASE send them in, demon slayer is one of my biggest interests right now and i will go OFF while writing for you guys !! send em in !!

REQUESTS : OPEN

[violettwrites]

quiet birthdays — trailerpark!daryl

a/n: hi my lovelies ! i actually had a lot of fun writing this, and i really hope you enjoy ! i love writing the trailer park trio so much !!! i also listened to the birthday party by the 1975 while listening to this, but you don't have to ! it just fit the quiet vibes of the story when i wrote it.

as always, if you enjoyed reading this, please don't forget to like, reblog, and/or comment !! you know i always appreciate your support !

summary: anon requested ! reader keeps quiet about her birthday, but the dixon brothers find a way to make it special

warnings: none !

word count: 1,308

resources: divider by @/adornedwithlight

➵ rules

➵ masterlist

➵ ask box (requests are open!)

the sun had already begun to dip below the horizon when you pulled into the trailer park, the air thick with the lingering heat of the day. your limbs ached with hours spent on your feet at work, and all you could think about was getting home, throwing yourself into bed, and forgetting that today was supposed to be special. it was your birthday— though you hadn’t bothered to mention it to anyone. not because you didn’t care, but because you didn;t see the point. it was just another day, another year passing by without fanfare. you honestly couldn’t remember the last time you celebrated, anyway. no birthday parties when you were younger, no birthday cards from family. nothing. so you never bothered anymore.

but as you approached your trailer, something caught your eye. there was a faint glow coming from the corner of the lot where the dixon brothers lived, and you could hear the low murmur of voices. curiosity piqued your interest and you made your way over, wondering what they were up to. as you rounded the corner, the sight stopped you in your tracks.

a bonfire was crackling, the flames licking up into the darkening sky. around it, there were a few mismatched chairs, a cooler, and some string lights that were lazily hung from daryl’s trailer, casting as soft glow over the area. daryl stood by the fire, poking at it with a stick, while merle sat on a lawn chair, leaning back with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

“well, look who decided to finally show up!” merle called out as soon as he spotted you, his voice loud and teasing. daryl glanced up from the fire, his expression more subtle but no less aware of your presence.

“what are you two doing?” you asked, stepping closer, your brow furrowed in confusion. it wasn’t unusual for merle to light up a bonfire randomly through the week and have a few beers, but the slight effort that was present in their set up threw you off. you had just left for work this morning like any other day, and now this?

daryl wiped his hands on his jeans and looked at you, his eyes darting away quickly like he was embarrassed. “heard it’s ya birthday,” he muttered, shuffling his feet a little. “figured we’d do somethin’.”

merle chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a beer in hand. “took ya long enough to get home. baby brother said ya’d be back by five. we been waitin’ all damn afternoon!”

you stared at them, completely taken aback. you hadn’t told anyone it was your birthday, and yet here they were, the two roughest boys you had ever met, putting together a surprise for you. your heart swelled at the thought, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to say.

“you did this for me?” you asked, still trying to wrap your head around what was happening.

daryl shrugged, his eyes flickering to merle as if he was uncomfortable with the attention and wanted merle to take over. “ain’t much.”

merle let out a bark of laughter. “yeah, well, he didn’t do it alone. i helped.” he gestured towards the cooler. “we got drinks, and daryl here even made ya a cake.”

“a cake?” you couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it. daryl dixon, the gruff and silent man you had come to know, had baked you a cake?

daryl looked even more uncomfortable now, and you could see his cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink. oh, now he was blushing. you watched as he rubbed the back of his neck, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment. “well, tried to. merle here ain’t much help.”

merle stood up with a mischievous grin, and waved you over to the small folding table they had set up near the fire. “c’mon, darlin’! take a look at this masterpiece.”

you followed, your curiosity getting the better of you— daryl had baked you a cake, so of course you wanted to see. and there it sat, in the middle of the table. the most chaotic looking cake you’d ever seen. the edges were burnt to a crisp, the middle sagged like it hadn’t fully risen, and the frosting was a mess– half melted, uneven, and smeared across the plate like it had been slapped on with no real plan.

daryl dixon had baked you a cake.

you covered your mouth to stifle the laugh that was threatening to escape. it was a disaster, but the fact that he even tried melted your heart.

“it’s… something,” you said, finally letting out a chuckle.

merle grinned and clapped daryl on the shoulder. “told ya she’d appreciate it.”

daryl shot him a glare before turning his attention back to you. his expression was softer now, his usual guarded demeanor cracked enough for you to see the effort he’d put into this. even if he was definitely no baker. “it ain’t that bad,” he muttered, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

you stepped closer to the cake, your chest warm with emotion. it wasn’t even about the cake at this point– it was the thought behind it. the fact that they had gone out of their way to make today feel special when you hadn’t expected anyone to notice.

“i love it,” you spoke sincerely, moving towards daryl so you could wrap your arms around him. you felt how stiff he was underneath your embrace, but he eventually softened, arms wrapping around your frame now. “thank you.”

he nodded his head once you both pulled from the embrace, his face relaxing a little. “glad you ain’t mad we made a mess,” he chuckled softly, his voice low.

“it’s not my kitchen i have to clean,” you teased, shaking your head, looking back at the cake.

merle, ever the one to break the mood, cracked open another beer and shoved one into your hand. “enough with the mushy, lovey dovey crap. let’s celebrate! yer gettin older, and that’s worth drinkin’ too!”

“everything’s worth drinking to with you, merle,” you retorted, rolling your eyes. but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you accepted the beer. the three of you settled around the fire, the crackling of the flames filling the comfortable silence between conversations. merle kept the jokes coming, loud and brash as always, while daryl stayed quieter, content to sit besides you, occasionally chiming in with a dry comment directed towards his older brother that made you laugh.

as the night wore on and the fire burned low, you found yourself watching the flicker of the flames, feeling something you hadn’t in a long time— contentment. this wasn’t the kind of birthday you’d ever imagined, but it was exactly what you needed. simple, messy, but full of heart.

you glanced over at daryl, who was staring into the fire, his profile softened by the glow of the flames. there was something about him that always put you at ease, even when he wasn’t saying much. you had grown fond of his quiet presence, the way he showed care through actions rather than words, and tonight was no different.

“hey,” you said softly, catching his attention. he looked over at you, his eyes meeting yours. “thanks again. really.”

daryl shrugged, but there was a warmth in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “ain’t nothin’.”

but it was. to you, it was everything.

you didn’t need a big celebration or an extravagant party. you just needed this— two people who cared enough to sit with you by a fire, drink a few beers, and share a burnt cake. and for the first time in a long time, you felt like your birthday truly mattered.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Big Boss II

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You're not just Not-Wolfsburg's Big Boss

You're a very good Big Boss.

You know this because Coach Emma and your mothers tell you so.

Sometimes though, you wish you weren't the Big Boss of Chelsea.

Specifically, now.

You wiggle happily in your seat as you sit in a video review session. The team are playing Arsenal at the weekend and you swing your legs back and forth as some of your favourite players appear on the screen.

"That's Daan!" You tell Jessie and Niamh. "She's so cool!"

Niamh looks at you a little wounded. "Cooler than us?"

You give her a look. "Of course! 'Cause she's Arsenal."

"Maybe tone down the love, princesse," Momma laughs as she moves to sit in your seat, swinging you up into her lap," We're still Chelsea here."

You sigh. "Why? Morsa says that if I love something I should let people know."

"I think she meant someone's cooking or a game, not one of our rivals."

"But why?"

"Well..." Momma has to think for a second. "Because being a good Big Boss means that you have to take into account other people's feelings. Jessie and Niamh might feel sad if you keep talking about Arsenal."

You hadn't thought about that before so you slump in Momma's lap.

"Sorry," You murmur. You shouldn't lie but if it's to save someone's feelings you think it's okay like that time Morsa lied about how your cookies tasted even though you know that you put salt in one of them by accident.

You wiggle on Momma's lap excitedly though at the thought of seeing the Arsenal girls again. Leah and Katie are super cool and Jill's tall so you climb up onto her shoulders so you can be tall too. Beth and Daan are extra special though because every time you see them, they give you a juice box and a snack.

You kick your legs out a little as you wonder what snacks Daan will give you this time.

"That's Leah!" You say before turning around in Momma's lap to peek over her shoulder at Morsa," Is she better than you?"

Morsa chokes a little bit, thumping her chest as she coughs. "What?"

"Cause you and her play the same position," You explain like Morsa's slow," Is she better than you?"

"Princesse," Morsa says in shock," What makes you think she's better than me?"

You shrug. "Dunno. That's why I'm asking."

"Just because she's Arsenal doesn't mean she's better than me," Morsa says," I'm one of the best."

"Was just asking!" You defend, sticking your tongue out," Momma says that if I ever wonder about something it's better to ask!"

When game day rolls around, you're very excited.

You're excited for every match day but especially against Arsenal. You get up extra early and go downstairs to play with your toys while Morsa and Momma wake up. You thought about going to the Big Bed but you know that you would just fall asleep and you want to be awake for the game today.

"Seeing the Arsenal girls," You tell Morsa when she asks what's got you so hyper," They're my favourite!"

She groans like she always does when you proclaim your love for Arsenal.

Momma laughs before going serious. "I know the Arsenal girls are your friends, princesse," She says," But this is very serious, okay? You can't tell them anything about how we're going to be playing, okay?"

Your brow furrows. "Why?"

"Well, because then the match won't be any fun for anyone and we all play football because it's fun, don't we?"

You think about that for a moment. It makes sense. You love playing football. You can't imagine what it would be like for it not to be fun anymore. "Okay, I won't tell."

"You're a good secret keeper," Momma says," I have no doubts you'll do very well."

You puff out your chest in pride as the car comes to a stop and you all get out.

You don't really understand why you all have to check the pitch because it's the same every time but Momma and Morsa make you.

"Daan!" You cry out, immediately detaching yourself from Morsa to run over. You stumble a little bit before crashing into her arms.

"Hey there!" Daan laughs as she swings you around. You settle happily on her hip and she pulls a Freddo Frog out of her pocket that you munch happily on.

She walks you both over to a bigger group of Arsenal girls and you high five everyone.

"That's a nice shirt," Daan says, pulling it down from where it's ridden up," What does it mean?"

"Means I'm the Big Boss!" You boast, puffing out your chest," I'm the best Big Boss 'cause Momma and Morsa tells me so."

"Oh, wow," Daan says with the perfect amount of awe at your status," I wish we had a big boss."

You look around quickly and bite at your lip. Momma and Morsa made you promise not to blab about Not-Wolfsburg tactics to Arsenal but they said nothing about helping them.

"I can be your Big Boss!" You say," But you have to ask my Momma and Morsa 'cause I'm only little and they still make lots of my choices."

Daan laughs but brings you over to where Momma and Morsa are milling about on the other side of the pitch.

"Momma," You say because you know she's more likely to give you what you want," Can I be the Big Boss for Arsenal today?"

She seems to catch on to what you're doing because she shrugs. "I don't know. Why don't you ask your Morsa?"

"Morsa, please?"

"Trying to pinch my daughter, van de Donk?" Morsa says," That's low."

Daan shrugs. "I'll give her back?"

"See that you do." Morsa presses a kiss to your forehead before letting Daan take you away.

You make sure to be just as firm as you always are because Coach Emma always tells you that being firm is the best way to get a team to play good so, just because you love Arsenal, doesn't mean you go easy on them.

"Run! Run! Run!" You order," Hurry up! Stop being slow!"

You cross your arms over your chest firmly and stamp your foot on the ground.

"Faster!" You yell," Or my Morsa's gonna catch you and she's not going to let you win!"

[tinylilacbun]

Sunburn

Request: The second one would be at the beach!! Brother!jj keeps warning his sister to apply sunscreen but she doesn't want to listen and at the end of the day she got sunburns and cries to her brother and jj would be like "i told you, you ain't listening to me" but somehow will still applying after sunscreen, or a cream to ease her pain <33

Pairing: brother!jj maybank x toddler!sister!reader

Warnings: sunburn, fluff, not proofread cause I'm tired :3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ♡ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

"We gonna go swim now?" You ask excitedly, holding JJ's hand and skipping by his side.

"Sure thing, squirt." He smiles at her, waiting for Kie to spread out the blanket before placing the cooler onto it together with the bag that was slung over is shoulder that had all necessities for you in it, such as snacks, your floaties, towels, etc.

You quickly get out of your shirt and shorts, revealing your swimsuit that had a turtle printed on the front, a gift you got from Kie on the first day of summer.

As JJ was rummaging through the bag for something specific you already took of running but didn't get far when he circles an arm around your body without even looking.

"Ah, ah, ah. Nice try." He chuckles, pulling out the sunblocker. "Didn't we forget somethin'?"

You make a grimace, shaking your head. "Don't need it! It's stinky."

"Trust me, ya would rather stink than have a sunburn later." He retorts, sighing when you didn't stop wriggling in his hold.

"Don't want it!" You whine loudly, pushing at his face so he would let you go.

He reluctantly let's go of you, dropping the sunblocker onto the blanket. He catches your wrist again as you were about to bolt after John B and Pope who were already jogging towards the water with their boards.

"Floaties." He reminds her, getting them out of the bag.

You huff but let him slid them over your arms, knowing that these are not up for discussion as you still can't swim without them.

"Can I go now?" You ask impatiently.

"Go." He waves you off, shaking his head with a smile as you dart off, shouting after you. "Stay close to JB or Pope!"

Kie had just finished getting out of her own clothes, smirking at the blonde. "She'll have one hell of a sunburn later."

JJ groans, grabbing your discarded clothes and dusting off from the sand before putting them in the bag for later. "Don't remind me but she gotta learn from it somehow."

Kie nods, reaching into her own bag and tossing a bottle of aloe vera at him. "You'll need that later."

"Thanks. You're a lifesaver." He smiles.

After a while of swimming and JJ helping you stand on his board a few times where you fell in the water a few time because he accidently shook the board you were now back on the sand, building castles with Kie while the boys did their thing.

Your sand castle was decorated with all kinds of shells, sticks, and leaves that you both collect from the beach.

Kie grimaces a little when she sees your back already in a light shade of red but continues to help you.

Soon enough the boys came out of the water for a snack and drink break. JJ whistles you over to him, holding out a juice box for you which you happily take. "Thank you."

He ruffles your hair and glances at your self made castle. "Whoa, that's a lit castle, cupcake."

You beam at that, smiling brightly. "You think so?"

"'Course I do. Y'think we can live in there?" He asks and you giggle.

"We too big for that, silly."

Later in the afternoon the pogues were sitting outside the Chateau with a crinkling fire, a few beers and some music while you were inside getting ready for bed.

JJ could hear you crying before you even came out, throwing his head back with a sigh. "There we go."

"Jay..." You sniffle, trotting over to him and tucking yourself into his side.

"What's wrong, hm?" He asks despite knowing the answer not even rubbing your back like he usually does when you're upset, knowing it would only hurt with the possible sunburn you definitely must have.

"It hurts!" You whimper against his bicep.

"What hurts? You gotta be specific, kiddo."

"My back." You mumble and he turns you around, lifting your shirt just enough to see your irritated skin.

"Damn, that's a nasty sunburn." He winces, turning you back around to face him. "I told ya this would happen."

The way you were looking at him with big teary eyes makes him soften and he stands up, picking you he carries you back inside and to the bathroom.

He sets you down on the toilet lid, patting your head. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

He leaves to retrieve the aloe vera cream Kie gave him earlier, rushing back to the bathroom. JJ grabs under your armpits to hoist you into a standing position, pulling your shirt over your head.

"Turn around. I promise it'll feel better soon." He instructs and starts to apply a good amount aloe vera onto your back, cooing softly when you whimper from the sudden coldness. "I know, I know."

As soon as he was done you turn back around still sniffling, reaching your arms out for him and he instantly scoops you up, swaying with you from side to side.

"Better listen to me next time."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ♡ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

@chimindity

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For JJ:

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[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 3)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: banter, fluffy Jake (if you squint)

words: 3.3k

Summary: Jake brings a date to the bar and she is not, well, the nicest person alive. Which is kind of expected of him but still annoying. Thankfully, Maverick convices Penny to close the bar early to sneak off and you close up. You start singing along to your playlist while you cleaned up, thinking you're alone at the bar...

a/n: The songs used in this chapter are Blue Eyes Forever by Charlotte OC and Ceilings by Lizzie McAlpine, if you want to listen to them while you read.

Link to my masterlist

"Can I play something for you, Darlin'?", Jimmy asked on his way to the storage room, passing the Jukebox. The bar had just opened and you and Jimmy were holding down the fort until Penny was supposed to come in later that evening.

"Could I have some Hall & Oates, please?", you mentioned with a smile. "I got you", the old man smiled and pressed some buttons on the old machine.

You make my dreams come true started playing.

"Oh Jimmy, you know me too well", you cooed at him, betting your eyelashes and shooting him a smile.

You started to sing along to yourself while you polished some glasses and put the beer from the box into the cooler. As you were crouched down, you didn't see a new patron approaching the bar.

"You make my dreams come true", you sang as you got up and suddenly found yourself face to face with a grinning Hangman.

"Only if you're a good girl", he said, accompanied with a cocky smile. "Barf", you said dryly and rolled your eyes.

You checked the big clock on the wall behind him. 5:10 PM. "It’s Tuesday, do you not have a job?", you simply asked.

"So, just anybody can give you a nickname but me?", he ignored your question and asked his own. For a second, you didn't know what he meant, but then you remembered that Jimmy had called you Darling just before. You were already so used to him calling you that.

"By god, she's got it! Good job, Eliza Doolittle", you mockingly cheered him on, booping his nose with your finger. He flicked your finger away like it was an annoying fly.

“What can I get you?”, you asked him. “The usual”, he simply stated and put his credit card on the counter, his typical sign to open his tab for the night. “So, a Tet-shot and the morning after pill for whoever fell for your bullshit?”, you suggested and gave him the sweetest smile. “What do you think of me?”, he asked playfully shocked, a hand on his chest.

“Only the worst”, you told him as you put the bottle of beer in front of him and the smile on your lips took the harshness out of your words. He shot you another wink as he grabbed his drink and left for the darts board.

You hated to admit it, even just to yourself, but your shift was always more fun when Hangman was around. Someone to look out for, someone to be excited to see. That this was all just one-sided wasn't even a question to you. Every time you felt that way about someone, as annoying as they might be, it was always one-sided. And even on the off chance it wasn't, you never dared to ask and nobody ever came forward. So, as always, you shot him another glance and kept on working.

Later that evening, the others arrived at the bar, too, as always gathering at the pool table. You brought over a trey of beers that the group had ordered.

"There you go. Phoenix, Fanboy, Bob, Coyote, and Eliza", you said as you placed the last beer in front of Hangman.

Fanboy almost did a spit-take as he had just taken a sip of his drink. "Excuse me, what?", Phoenix asked and she didn't do a great job at suppressing her laughter.

"Just a little inside joke we got, don't we, Lizzie?", you turned to Hangman. He chose to remain silent but the look he gave you let you know that you were gonna pay for that joke at some point.

But for now, you took the win of shutting him up.

For a Wednesday night it was surprisingly full at the bar and Jimmy was not in after requesting a sick-day. You and Penny had your hands fulfilling all the orders. Even though you had some practice by now, you were still lacking in speed compared to Penny.

You spotted your usual group at a table in the middle of the bar, letting other people play pool for once. But you noticed that Hangman was missing tonight. It was odd to you, but you didn’t think much of it.

Until he came in at around half past 9 with a tall blonde on his arm. She was dressed in an expensive-looking short dress and looked totally out of place between the khaki uniforms and informal clothing on all the other patrons. She looked like the type country club, my daddy bought me a horse for Christmas kind of girl. The Hard Deck was clearly Hangman’s idea, who was not wearing his khaki uniform for once but a black pair of jeans and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. If you didn’t already know him as part of the bar’s interior, you would also find his appearance here out of place.

Your eyes followed the pair to the table of Hangman’s colleagues, his date getting introduced to the others. They all exchanges polite smiles and hellos. When the woman sat down, she let her eyes wander over the place, looking a little disgusted. You could tell that this was not the place she thought the night would bring her to. She took off her cardigan and hung it over the back of her chair before she even attempted to lean back.

There was no use of prolonging the wait, you would have to get over there to take their order. Also, the glasses of the others looked rather empty as well. You took a deep breath and walked over to the full table.

“Welcome to the Hard Deck. What can I get you?”, you welcomed the woman and smiled at her politely. She looked up at you with an annoyed face. Her eyes let you know where your place in her world was. You were the help.

“Do you have anything here that costs more than 10 dollars?”, she asked and the tone in her voice could only be described as disgusted. “I can sell you everything for at a least twenty if you prefer it”, you commented, trying to knock her ego down a peg. It wasn’t like you didn’t have any practice with Hangman.

You heard some suppressed chuckles from the others but kept your eyes on Hangman’s date. “Excuse me? You better watch your tone or I’ll will have to talk to your manager”, she snapped at you. And she couldn’t take a joke. Great taste, Hangman.

You swallowed and took a moment to calm yourself before you spoke again. “I apologize. We have a very good Chardonay you might like, Karen”, you said to her instead but couldn’t help yourself at the end. Another round of chuckles behind you. “My name is not Karen, it’s Whitney”, she told you and her tone got more indignant. She looked over at Hangman, looking for support of her outrage.

“She will have the Chardonay and I’ll have a beer, please”, he said, ignoring his date. You nodded and then turned to the others. They ordered another round of drinks and you basically fled towards the bar.

Penny was overrun by a new group that had just entered the bar and you helped her out before you prepared the drinks for the table and brought them over there.

“Here’s your Chardonay”, you said and placed the glass of wine in front of the woman. “About time”, she only mumbled, no Thank you or even eye-contact. Lovely girl, you thought to yourself.

“Here’s your beer”, you placed the bottle in front of Hangman. “Thank you, Y/N”, he said and shot you a smile. You looked at him a little weirded out. The please before was already a little out of character for him.

“What?” he asked innocently. “Nothing, you’re just weirdly nice”, you simply said and kept placing the drinks in front of the guys. “I’m always nice”, he countered and a little mischievous glimpse was back in his eyes as he followed your round around the table. “Oh yeah, I’m always so touched by the empathy you display every time you’re here”, you said and put a hand over your heart, pouting your lips, holding the empty trey in your free hand and letting it hang down your side.

Whitney watched your exchange with a watchful eye and put her hand on his thigh, seemingly displaying some sort of ownership. “Do you come here often, Jakey?”, she asked the man to her left, a warning tone in her voice not to say the wrong thing. Whatever that may be. You and Phoenix exchanged a glance over the heads of the others, both of you biting down a smile.

“No, Darling, only when these knuckleheads drag me here. They can’t have fun without me”, Jake told her and she seemed satisfied with his answer. “We drag him here?”, Coyote whispered to Payback, who was sitting right in front of where you stood.

“It’s true, he’s not here often, but he certainly leaves an impression”, you chimed in before anyone could say something. Hangman looked up at you and you couldn’t tell if he was waiting for you to say something compromising or silently thanking you for having his back in this lie.

“Alright, just yell for me if you need anything else”, you said and finally left their table. It was getting uncomfortable and you were glad that you had a good reason to get out of there. After looking at some of the faces of the guys you could tell that they were just as uncomfortable.

“Come on, Penny. We’ll just sneak out of here”, you heard Maverick say as you came back to the bar circle. “I can’t just leave, not when it’s that packed”, you heard your boss answer but the tone of her voice let you know that she actually wanted to.

“I can finish the evening”, you just entered their conversation and they both shot up like they were planning some secret mission. “No, you can’t handle this many people on your own”, Penny said and took a look at the still pretty well filled bar. “No offense”, she quickly added. “None taken, you’re probably right”, you said and scanned the bar as well. “But you can close early”, you suggested.

“That’s right”, Maverick agreed and you both looked at Penny with raised eyebrows. Your boss looked at your faces and chewed her bottom lip. “It’s your place, you run the show”, Maverick added. You nodded agreeingly. You also wouldn’t mind to get off early. “I’ll clean up, I can definitely manage that”, you offered. “She’ll clean up”, Maverick repeated. Penny contemplated for a few more moments, then she sighed defeatedly.

“Okay, I’ll close early”, she gave in and you and Maverick high-fived. Penny walked over to the bell and rang it. “Last call!”, she shouted and a common groan erupted from the crowd. “Alright, settle down. It’s still my bar”, she added and waved off their protests.

While you were handing out the last drinks of the night, Penny asked repeatedly if you were okay to close up on your own and you waved it off. “I’m working here, aren’t I? And I have to learn sometime. You don’t always want to stay ‘til last call, don’t you?”, you said. She answered you with a smile and handled the register.

When everybody was finally out and Penny had left with Mav, you were suddenly alone. It was weirdly quiet compared to before when the room was filled with people. So, you took out your phone and put on your Spotify playlist while you started to clean up.

You collected glasses and bottles from all over the place. You even found a cardigan on the chair that Hangman’s date was sitting on. You grabbed it to put it behind the bar for when she came back for it. It was a warm night though, so she probably wouldn't notice right away. The urge to wipe the counter with it was almost overwhelming. Instead of following the urge, you placed it somewhere safe as it looked expensive and was probably worth more than your month’s salary.

You continued cleaning up and started to sing along to the song that was currently playing. It was Blue Eyes Forever by Charlotte OC, one of your favorites.

“But when we talk in the middle, in the middle of the night. Oh, we get closer every time. But when we meet in the middle, I feel the clarity rise. Oh, it moves over, straight from your eyes”, you sang as you put the glasses in the basket for the dishwasher. It wasn’t like singing Karaoke with friends or the impromptu concert with Rooster a couple of weeks ago. You got really into it since you were all alone and nobody could hear you.

“Blue eyes forever, oh oh oh. Blue eyes forever, oh oh oh”, you kept singing and grabbed the dishtowel to wipe down the counter

“I actually have green eyes”, you heard from the door and you jumped in surprise. You spun around to where the voice had come from only to find Jake Hangman Seresin of all people standing there.

Shit, did he hear you sing? He must have. Why else would he say that?

“Jesus Christ, you scared me”, you said as you put a hand over your heart that was racing like crazy. You turned away from him again, seemingly to finish wiping off the counter and putting the damp towel back in the small sink behind the bar. You mostly needed a moment to collect yourself. You felt so embarrassed that he had heard you sing. You thought you were all alone for the rest of the night, singing like you only did when you thought no one would hear you.

You heard his steps coming closer, resting his underarms on the bar top when he arrived across from where you were standing. You turned down the music on your phone.

“You have a beautiful voice”, he said and as much as you looked for it in his face, you couldn’t find any hint of mockery. Hangman and an honest compliment? Were you in the Upside Down?

“Thanks”, you said, still startled, and blushed a bit. “What are you doing here? We’re closed”, you asked, still in disbelief that he was nice to you. “My date forgot her cardigan”, he finally disclosed why he was back here so soon. “Ah, and she doesn’t put out if she doesn’t have her precious cardigan?”, you said and a smile creeped on your face, revealing the joke. “The chances are better with it”, he answered, also with a smile, indicating that he wasn’t here purely out of a gentlemanly gesture.

“I’ve got it here”, you said and walked the few steps over to where you put it for safe keeping. You handed him the garment and when he took it from you, his fingertips brushed along your fingers. You were sure he didn’t even notice it, but it sent an electric jolt up your arm.

As soon as he had it in his hand, you pulled your arm back, putting your other hand over the one Jake had just touched, folding it in front of you. Your fingers still tingled. You almost rolled your eyes at yourself for this stupid reaction.

“Thank you”, he said, glad that it hadn’t got lost somewhere else. “Now you can be her knight in shining armor when you bring back her precious cardigan”, you said with a chuckle and grabbed the broom from behind you. You came around the bar to sweep up the peanut shells that were scattered all over the floor. “And you’re Cinderella?”, he asked jokingly, nodding at the broom. “Yeah, well, there are other balls, I’ll dance another time”, you said with a shrug of your shoulders and a light smile.

Jake looked at you for a moment before he lifted his hand for a goodbye. “I’ll see you around, have a good night”, he said. “Yeah, you too”, you answered.

You didn’t wait for him to leave the room, you turned around and turned the music louder on your phone again. Your playlist had kept playing while you talked to Jake. Now it played Ceilings by Lizzie McAlpine, a slow song. The mood to sing along was gone anyway, you were too afraid someone else would show up again.

You started moving the broom over the floor but you only managed to get about three sweeps in before you felt a hand on your shoulder. When you looked up, it was Jake again. Without saying a word, he took the broom out of your hands and leaned it against the bar.

He grabbed your right hand with his left and put his right hand on your lower back. You looked at him with big eyes, too stunned to speak.

“You get your dance now, Cinderella”, he winked at you and started to sway you to the slow music. With his hand on your back, he pushed you closer to him and slowly moved both of you in a circle.

You were aware of every single spot where your bodies touched, beginning with his big, warm hand clasping yours. You were afraid he could hear how fast your heart was pounding.

He removed his hand from your back only to have you spin around which made you giggle lightly and then pull you back in, even closer this time. He put his hand which was holding yours against his chest, pulling your arm with his. He put his hand on top of yours which meant your hand was placed directly on his heart. You felt how hard his peck was beneath his shirt and swallowed. You looked up only to find those green eyes of his looking down at you. He held your gaze while he moved your bodies slowly from side to side. His hand on your back slid a little lower but you almost didn’t notice it because you were so hypnotized by his eyes. Almost.

“Bedsheets, no clothes. Touch me like nobody else does” came out of the speakers of your phone and you suddenly became very aware of the lyrics of the song. It made you swallow hard. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t. Did he notice the lyrics, too?

His fingertips felt like they were burning through your shirt, leaving permanent marks on your skin. Instinctively, you licked your lips. Jakes eyes darted down to your mouth and back up to your eyes. He seemed lost in thought for a moment.

You both got snapped out of your stare as the broom fell over and hit the floor with a loud bang.

As soon as the moment had come, it was over again. The song drained out as the two of you stopped moving. Like you were both snapping back to reality, you let go of each other.

You opened your mouth and inhaled to say something but you didn’t know what, so you closed it again. Was a Thank you appropriate? Did that mean anything? Did he just want to be nice? But Hangman wasn’t nice. Your head was spinning as all kinds of thoughts invaded your brain.

Hangman looked at you for a second longer, then turned around, grabbed his date’s cardigan off the bar top and left the bar for good this time.

With shaky hands you grabbed the broom off the floor and held on to it for dear life. Your heart was still pounding rapidly. You weren’t even sure if it had actually happened or if it was just a day-dream of yours if it wasn’t for the hand you still felt on your back like an echo. That was something you couldn’t dream up.

Next chapter: Part 4.1

[awkness]

Serial killer! Platonic! Yandere Older Brother & Genderneutral Teenage Reader (Part 2)

(Part 1) (Part 3)

As reader tries to adjust to their new life without their father, a number of concerning incidents occur, including off-putting behavior from your brother, prevents that from happening. But despite everything, you make a new friend. Surely, this can only mean good things for you, right? Things must be looking up!

Content warnings: implied murder, manipulation, domestic abuse, briefly mentioned alcoholism and child abuse, and general yandere shenanigans. If I missed anything here, please let me know :3

Authors note: lmao I have no excuse for being this late I'm just slow. This was originally supposed to be the last chapter but it got too long so I had to split it up. It feels like a bit of filler but I promise we'll get to the good stuff soon it just needs some set up. Part 3 should be the last part so I'll try not to be too slow uploading (<- lying)

There were very few things about your father you liked, but his house was one of them. It was something he had inherited from his father, who Ben would inherit as soon your father could be pronounced legally dead. It came with a master bedroom, two normal bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, a kitchen, the basement, and an attic.

The attic was something you had always been fascinated with as a child. It was spacious, fully insulated and even had an openable window. It could have been a bedroom all on its own. As a child, you had often daydreamed of moving your stuff up there, utilizing the bigger space for blanket forts and storing all the toys your little heart could desire. In reality, it was used in the same way the basement was, except it stored much more valuable items. Holiday decorations, clothes, old valuables that had no room to be displayed, and whatever family heirlooms your late father kept were shoved up above your head, taking space that could have been used for you. You had thought you had grown out of this fantasy, content with the room you had, but with your father gone and your brother running the house, the childhood dream had crept its way back into the front of your mind, tempting you with visions of a bigger, cooler room.

So, after working up the courage, you finally asked Ben if you could move up there. It surprised you just how easily he said yes.

And now you're here, Ben helping you sort through trash and treasure alike as you both clear out the room.

You pulled an unlabeled box from the seemingly endless pile, the top covered in dust and cobwebs. You try not to think about how many spiders are in the room with you now. Cleaning them out will be a trouble for another day.

The box opens easily, cardboard weak from age, a musty smell emanating from within. You look inside, only to be left dumbfounded. Why were there women's clothes in here?

"Hey, Ben, do you know whose clothes these are?"

Ben looks up from his own box, a vaguely confused look on his face. As he makes his way towards your box, you watch it drop into a frown.

"Those are moms."

"Oh." Is all you can say.

An awkward moment passes between you two as Ben stares into the box, face strange as he becomes lost in thought. You decide to break the tension.

"Why do you think he kept them?"

He looks away from the box and towards you, his body slowly beginning to relax.

"He was always a sentimental man, I guess that's reason enough for him."

You let out a snort. "What's there to be sentimental over? She cheated on him, divorced him, and then dumped us on him. She's not exactly a woman worth pining over."

"I'm not arguing with you, but you remember how he was. Couldn't ever let anything go."

He began rummaging through it, quickly getting to the bottom before closing it back up.

"Nothing but clothes. We should probably donate this."

You give a nod as you watch him put it in the growing donation pile. That was going to be such a pain to bring down to the car.

Instead of thinking about that, though, you turn your head to the box that Ben was searching through before you called him over.

"Is this one mom's too?"

Before you get an answer, you take a peek inside, only to once again be at a loss for how something like this could be in your home.

Inside was an assortment of strange objects. A broken polaroid camera, a stained photo album, and an array of metal objects like locks, deadbolts, and... were those shackles?

Before you could make out any more objects, Ben had made his way to you and reached over to close the flaps of the box.

"I doubt it, probably just more junk he couldn't throw away."

He turned around to you and smiled, hands holding the flaps shut.

"Want to do me a favor and go start bringing the donation boxes to the car?"

"Ugh, why do I have to bring them down?"

"Because you're the one who wanted to move up here."

You glared at him as his smile turned into an amused smirk, before you finally gave a huff and picked up a box from the pile.

"Jerk."

"Brat." The smile never left his face.

With only moderate trouble, you navigated your way down the stairs and out the door, making your way to the car. Unfortunately, you had only realized you forgot the keys when you tried to open the door to pop the trunk open.

You quietly mumble curses under your breath as you set the box next to the car, ready to make the trip back inside. Instead, you go completely still as you catch a look at the people across the street.

It was a small group of high schoolers your age, maybe older, who go to your school. They were standing the the yard across the street, a few houses down, talking together to throwing glances in your direction. Your ears strain as they try to make out their incoherent babble. They couldn't have known about your situation, could they? Or at least, what the official story was. It had been over a month since that happened, it doesn't make sense that they would be talking about it now. But you were just moving boxes out of the house such a short time after it happened. That looks suspicious, doesn't it? Of course it does. Why did you have to ask to move into the attic now?

You had been standing like a deer in headlights, openly staring for what felt like minutes before one of them seemingly made eye contact with you. You avert your gaze down as you feel your cheeks grow hot and your hands grow sweaty. A chorus of laughter erupts from the group.

Without thinking, you rush up to the door, fling it open, and slam directly into Ben as he was carrying. You hear it hit the floor as you speed walk past him.

"Wha- Hey! (Y/N)! What happened?"

You didn't reply. You barely even heard his words. Panic had fully taken over and kept you moving away from Ben, away from the door, away from the outside world, and all the judgemental people it contained.

You finally make it to your room, shutting the door behind you, and seating yourself on your bed, trying to get your bearings. 

Tears begin stinging your eyes as your shaky hands try and wipe them away. You wonder if they were still laughing at you.

A soft knock comes from your door, and your body shrinks inward, unprepared for the upcoming talk.

"Kid? Can I come in?"

You don't reply. You know Ben is going to come in anyway.

He waits a beat before opening the door, his face the picture of concern. His footsteps are quiet, and his movements gentle as he sits next to you. You find your body leaning away from him.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

You shrug, turning your head away from him. Even if you did want to talk, you couldn't trust your voice right now.

"Alright, that's fine, we can figure it out together. Was it something to do with mom's clothes?"

You don't move. Maybe if you don't answer, he'll leave and let you deal with your embarrassment in peace.

"The attic?"

A pause.

"Something in the box you were carrying...? Or maybe something outside?"

You stiffen, and immediately try to make yourself relax. Maybe he didn't notice?

"Does this have something to do with the neighbors?"

Oh. Nevermind.

Despite your best efforts, your body language must have given you away again. You hear the bed creak as he gets up, the blinds rustling a moment later as he gives a huff.

"It's those kids across the street, isn't it?" His voice takes on an edge of irritation, and you feel yourself curl inwards again.

The bed shifts as he takes his seat next to you again, a comforting hand placed on your shoulder. His voice takes on the softer quality it had before.

"I can't help you if you don't help me, kid. Did they talk to you?"

You shake your head, trying to talk, but finding the words stuck in your throat.

"They-" Your voice falters and you clear your throat, barely able to speak above a whisper.

"They didn't have to. I could see them looking at me and laughing, I knew they were talking about me, just like all the neighbors do whenever they see us. It's like they know. And these-"

You sniff, snot beginning to run and throat burning as you talk. Ben squeezes your shoulder, and you continue.

"These people go to my school, Ben. They know me. When I have to go back, they'll talk and tell everyone and the whole school will know what happened. They'll treat me different, they'll ask questions, and I won't know what to tell them-"

Your quivering voice finally gives out, and you cover your face. Ragged, irregular breaths come out as you try to force back the wave of emotions you've just unleashed. Gently, Ben pulls you to his chest as he rubs your back, murmuring gentle reassurances you couldn't quite hear.

Moments pass until your breathing finally evens out, eyes dry but still red and puffy. You slowly pull back and he lets you, his face full of worry. His hand still remains on your shoulder, an ever-present weight.

"You've had this on your mind for a long time, haven't you?"

You give a feeble nod. The thought of having to return to school had been weighing on you, but you hadn't realized how bad it had been until now. The thought is almost enough to send you spiraling again.

"I don't want to go back."

Ben gives you a smile. "You don't have to."

Your mind freezes for an instant, any and all thought muddled into incohereency.

"What?"

"Why don't I sign you up for online school this year? I remember you talking about wanting to do it a couple of months back, so why not now?"

"I..."

Your brows furrow. You did tell Ben that you wanted to do online school a couple of months ago before summer started. But this wasn't a new wish. You had been dreaming of being homeschooled since you had dreamed of living in the attic. Troubles in finding friends and fitting in had always followed you throughout the years until you realized the futility of it all, and only dreamt of a home where you didn't have to leave, and Ben and you could spend your days in peace. But the reality of your father's abuse had made school a begrudgingly safe haven of yours and you had slowly given up on that dream, too. But now that it was fully within your hands, you found yourself hesitating. Why? There was no monster in your home anymore, you were safe, and there's no reason to say no.

"I don't know."

He smiled.

"It wouldn't have to be permanent, just for this year. And if you don't like it, I can reenroll you back into your old school, so your options are always open. Plus, you're right, (Y/N). I know how cruel kids can be, especially when they're confronted with situations and people they don't understand. I don't want you to face that if you don't have to."

You gnaw on your lip, unsure of what to say. Ben was right on all accounts, the things he was saying made sense, and yet you couldn't find yourself saying yes. Why couldn't you let yourself have this?

"Can I think on it?"

Ironically, it came out of your mouth before you could think at all.

He nodded, his good-humored smile still on his face. You let out a small breath, so glad to still see it there.

"Of course, kid, it's a big decision. Take your time."

He gave your shoulder one last pat before getting up.

"I'm going to move the rest of the boxes in the car and go drop them off. You want me to pick up dinner on the way back?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with whatever."

"Alright. Rest up, I'll be back soon."

Unable to say much else, you nod as he gives you one last smile before he heads out the door, closing it behind him.

You rub your eyes, your body slowly unwinding from the tension just moments prior, until it gives in and you lay down on your bed.

With nothing else left to do, you crawl under your covers, the familiar comfort of the soft and worn fabric soothing your nerves. Distantly, you hear the sound of Ben's footsteps as he makes his way back and forth from the attic, the familiar and comforting sound lulling you into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was pretty uneventful. Ben was off at work while you continued clearing the attic, sorting out the junk and keepsakes, only occasionally getting scared by the stray spiders that had made their home in the crevices between the boxes.

By noon, everything was sorted, with the only thing left being to take the boxes to be donated or tossed in the trash. But you needed Ben to help you with that, so you found yourself heading down to the kitchen, heating instant noodles in the microbe, wondering what you were going to do until he got home.

Around this time is when you usually went to go check the mail, but since yesterday, the thought of having to leave the house left you with an uneasy feeling, tension building in your spine and shoulders the longer you thought of it. A part of you was ashamed that you couldn't even walk out to the mailbox without it being a big deal, and another, much larger part, found immense relief in the thought of abandoning the task altogether, and not having any more chance encounters like yesterday. The more you considered it, the more you found your body sagging in relief. Yeah, Ben can grab it when he gets home, you're sure he wouldn't mind. It's no big deal.

The microwave beeps and you grab the noodles, all thought of the outside quickly leaving your head.

You had just dumped the flavor packet in when you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart, ashamed you were to admit, skipped a beat, and you froze mid-action, breath catching roughly in your throat. Who could that be? Maybe that was Ben, and he had just forgot his keys? No, that's stupid, he wouldn't be home this early, and he never forgets his keys. With no other answers coming to mind, you quietly set the packet down and got up to the door to peek through the peephole.

On the other side of the door stood one of your neighbors, a kid your age. You see him the most often out of all of your neighbors, often doing yard work and tending to the flowers in his front yard. He was also the guy you caught staring at you the most. Well, maybe staring wasn't completely accurate, but whenever you looked his way, you two would usually make eye contact before one of you shyly looked away. You didn't know why, and it played havoc on your nerves. He wore a hoodie despite the summer heat and had an envelope in his hand. He looked nervous.

You pull away and bring your hand to undo the locks before stopping.

For one glorious, tempting moment, you picture yourself turning around, going back to your noodles, and taking them upstairs and away from the door to eat in peace until Ben comes home.

Instead, you undo the locks and open the door.

Your neighbor looks slightly taken aback like he didn't expect anyone to answer. You try not to notice.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Oh, uh, hi! I'm Alex, your neighbor. I live right next to you, the house to the right, well- uh, my right, your left. The one with the red car and lawn gnomes out front?"

He gestures sheepishly towards his house, face nearing the complexion of a tomato.

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I'm (Y/N)."

The social protocols of politeness take over, unable to fully pay attention as your mind stalls, still in a state of shock from the anxiety of the situation.

"(Y/N)? That's a nice name." He smiles at you before quickly looking at the ground.

He hands the envelope over to you, speaking as you look over it.

"Uh, I just wanted to drop this off. I think our mail got mixed up."

Sure enough, the envelope had your brother's name and address on it.

"Oh, thank you." You say lamely.

For a beat, you wonder if you should say something more. It felt wrong to just leave the conversation as it was and close the door, but what else were you supposed to say? Before you can think about it, he speaks again.

"I, uh, wanted to say that I heard about what happened to your dad, and I'm sorry."

Again, your heartbeat skips, and you stiffen, body alert, eyes wide. You probably look like a deer caught in headlights in front of him if he wasn't still looking at the ground. The thought would embarrass you if it weren't for the sharp spike of adrenaline hitting your veins.

"I... I had a dad like him too."

And just like that, your body pauses its panic response, and you find yourself fully focused on him as he continues.

"I thought it would be easier after me and my mom moved away, and it has been, but those kinds of experiences don't just go away, and I wanted to say that you aren't alone."

You still felt a little wired from the previous scares, you you felt a strange sense of ease slowly pass through you at his words.

You stare at him, as he stares down, no words passing between you two before you finally speak.

"Thank you."

You only hesitate for a moment before continuing.

"It has been rough, but it's been more of a relief than anything. It's nice not having to hide away in my room until he leaves."

He looks up, a small smile gracing his face as he finally relaxes.

"Yeah, it's nice not having to check to see if he passed out in the house again."

You find your lips quirking up. "Or having to check his pulse when he is passed out."

"Not having to worry about him throwing a fit whenever he runs out of beer despite him being the one who drank it all."

"Not having to constantly hide food in your room so you have a supply when he does throw his tantrums"

Alex gave a disbelieving laugh.

"Yours let you get food out of the kitchen? There was a lock on the fridge and pantry when I lived with mine."

Your smile widened into one of disbelief, amusement, and shock. "What the hell? Why?"

"Kept getting upset that the food would go missing. Worst part is, every time he got blackout drunk, he'd binge eat, pass out and get mad at us for eating all the food."

You couldn't help it. You started giggling, and he started giggling, unable to react in any other way to the absurdity of it all.

"Sorry! I really shouldn't laugh-" You began, failing to stifle the laughter.

"Don't be!" He said. "He's a stupid guy, you should laugh at him."

You both share the moment, the laughter slowly dying down as you both take your first good look at each other. In this moment, you see something you can't help but talk about.

"Is that a minecraft necklace?"

He looks surprised, but pleasantly so. He glances down before holding it up with a grin. The pendant was the shape of a creeper head.

"Yeah, I'm a big fan!"

He puts it back down and his demeanor changes back to being sheepish, but not painfully so like he was before.

"I have minecraft for Xbox and a spare controller at my house. If you want, you can come over and play?"

It was your turn to be nervous again.

On one hand, you wanted to say 'absolutely'. You couldn't remember the last time you got invited to hang out, and the thought of something as normal as playing a video game with a friend was something you needed. Well, maybe you couldn't call him a friend yet, but you feel like you could, given enough time. Plus, after being so afraid of your neighbors and leaving your house, having someone come up to you and act so warm and friendly made you feel soft. It was hard to say no to that.

On the other hand, you had the nagging, unnameable feeling that Ben would be, upset, but you couldn't think up any concrete reason as to why. In fact, if you focused on that feeling too long, your mind went blank.

Sure, you were going about out of the house without him knowing, but Ben has always been supportive of you. Sure, he's never really discussed rules about going over to a friend's house because the situations never come up, but he's fairly easygoing. You were sure that if you explained why you went, he would be understanding. Happy, even.

Plus, you were only going next door, you had your phone on you, and you would be back before Ben came home, so it's not like he had to even know what happened. Not that you wanted to lie to him, but something about that option comforted you more than any of the other things you listed.

Discomfort pushed aside, you gave a smile back to Alex.

"Sure thing, let me grab my phone."

It could have been the perfect hangout. Alex's mom was nice, bringing you two snacks and telling stories from Alex's childhood despite his embarrassment, as you two hung out in the living room while he helped you figure out the controls. Soon enough, you two were building a base together, laughing at each other as a creeper or sneaky skeleton would get kills on you both.

You were halfway through making the third story of the base when your phone started ringing. You felt your heart drop to your stomach when you saw Ben's picture on the screen.

"Shit."

You immediately pocketed in and got up.

"What's wrong?" He paused the game and looked up.

"I wasn't supposed to stay so late, my brother's probably home by now."

You went over to the window and peeked through the blinds, and as fate would have it, you saw his car in the driveway.

You hear Alex speak from the couch, voice slightly concerned.

"You're not going to get in trouble, are you?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

"I... don't think so. Maybe? I've never been out late before."

"If you want, I can come with you and explain what happened. I'll take the blame."

Despite your growing worry, you felt a pang of gratitude come through. You gave a small smile.

"That's okay, he'll probably be a little mad, but I don't think it's that serious."

You headed to the door, Alex following behind.

"Hey, on the chance you don't get grounded or whatever, here's my phone number."

You look back and see him scribbling on a piece of paper before he hands it over to you. You take it and look at sloppy, but thankfully still legible writing, and give a bigger, more genuine smile.

"I'll text you later. If I still have my phone, that is." You joke, or at least try to.

He gives a smile and a wave as you turn back and exit the front door.

As it closes behind you, the warmth of the interaction slowly leaches from you and leaves you feeling cold and rattled.

You didn't fully believe the things you said to Alex. You had no real idea what Ben would like because you had never gone against what he said before. The thought alone turned your stomach into knots. It was simply how you two functioned, Ben was the one in charge and made the big decisions, and you listened. Sure, he never had any explicit rules about this, but that didn't mean anything.

As you made the short walk to your home, you began strategizing.

You should do damage control right away, start apologizing straight away, and let him know where you were and what you were doing. Wait, should you mention Alex? At that thought, you shoved the paper with his number deep in your pocket. You didn't want Ben to see it.

Before you could think about it anymore, you were at your front door. Your back tensed, and you hesitated only a moment before opening the door. Waiting would only make it worse.

Before you can fully step in, you see Ben pacing the kitchen, brows furrowed, face strained. As soon as he heard you, his head whipped up, and you felt yourself freeze like a rabbit spotted by a wolf. Frozen, unable to do anything else than stare.

"(Y/N)?"

Just like that, you were broken out of your trance, finally allowed to move again.

You step in all the way and close the door behind you.

"I'm sorry! I didn't think I'd be out that long, I wasn't keeping track of time, I-"

Your voice died the moment you looked back to Ben's face, his features looked so... angry. You've never seen him look at you like that before, never seen him look like that at all. It set off a loud, blaring warning in your brain that something was wrong, and that you needed to leave. But that was crazy. This is Ben, your brother, you were fine.

You tried to start again.

"I was..."

It tapered off as you saw him move towards you, movement swift and robotic as he kept his attention on you. Without thinking, you shrunk back.

"Ben-"

Before you could finish he's in front of you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly it's borderline painful. You grip his arms, weakly trying to push away, knowing better than to seriously try.

"Where were you?"

There was such a dangerous edge to his voice that you couldn't think, couldn't look away. Your breaths came out shallow and your voice so tiny you could barely hear it.

"With the neighbors."

That only made him angrier.

"What neighbors? We don't talk to the neighbors here."

Oh, you were shaking now.

"With- with the neighbors right next to us, the Rogers. I was hanging out with Alex-"

"Who the Hell is Alex?"

His grip got tighter as he shook you, and you could feel the bruises forming. You started pushing at him again, but your arms trembled so badly you might as well not have tried.

"B-Ben, it hurts."

Your voice was so thick with emotion that it was hardly coherent, but Ben understood.

His face blanked for a moment, body shocked to stillness as you continued to try and leave. Then, without warning, he let you go, turned his back and walked a few paces away from you, pinching his nose as he let out a sharp breath.

You listen to him as he takes deep breaths while you rub your sore arms, snot beginning to run as your eyes turn wet. As you step away, you feel your back pressed against the door, and you have the fleeting idea to open it and run away. You realize what you're thinking, and the idea terrifies you so deeply you stay rooted to the spot.

Finally, Ben turns back, face still hardened but not as severely as before.

"Who's Alex?"

You sniff. You really didn't want to do this anymore.

"He's the neighbor's kid. Our mail got mixed up and he brought it over to me, and invited me over to hang out."

You probably should have stopped there, but some scared, hurt part of you needed Ben to understand that you didn't mean this, it wasn't your fault. Your voice cracked as you continued.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. It was only supposed for a little bit, I didn't think I would be over for so long, just an hour or two. I- I didn't mean for this to happen, I should- I should of called you."

You stopped, but only because the shaking in your hands had spread to your voice, and you didn't think you could keep going without sounding like a complete mess.

His face didn't soften for a moment, staring blankly as you had gone on. After it ended, he closed his eyes, rubbed his face and gave a sharp sigh.

You couldn't read him when he looked away. Was he calming down? Did that make him more upset? Every second that ticked by frayed your already worn-out nerves. You were only one yell away from bursting into tears.

He looked up again, face the same as it was before.

"Do you know what it's like to come home with the door unlocked and see you missing, with no goddamn clue where you could be? What was I supposed to think? You didn't even pick up your damn phone!"

He stopped, took a breath, and then continued, a dangerously calm edge to his voice.

"And then you tell me you decided to stay over at a stranger's house without calling me? A person you only met today? They could of been anybody, anything could happened to you. I thought you had better sense than that."

It stung.

"I'm sorry."

It sounded small and pathetic, even to your own ears.

He let out a sigh.

"Go to your room. We'll talk about this more later."

You don't think twice. You rush away on shaky legs to your room and quietly close the door behind you, afraid of doing anything else to set him off. The bed lets out a soft creak as you sit down. You gather your quivering hands in your lap and look down on them, not sure what to do with yourself.

Before you can think about it any further, you hear the front door open and slam shut, then the car turning on and driving away.

As it quiets down, you can't help it. Stifled sobs climb their way out of your chest, feeling like they're choking you until you can't resist anymore. You collapse on your bed, openly crying until you exhaust yourself to sleep.

The next morning felt almost surreal. You woke up to hearing Ben walking about the house as he did his morning routine. Usually, you would be out of the room right now doing the same, with you both then sitting down to eat breakfast together until it was time for him to leave. This time, you stayed in bed the entire time, idly scrolling your phone as you listened to his footsteps.

A part of you expected him to knock at your door, and ask you why you weren't out yet. Instead, you heard the sizzle of eggs hitting a hot pan as they cooked, and after a short few moments, the front door opening, closing, and locking behind him. The familiar sounds of the car's engine slowly faded away, and you finally got out of your bed, ready to start your day.

You decided to text Alex. You were hesitant to give the details of what happened, simply saying that Ben was upset and things were tense, and thankfully, Alex never pushed it. Instead, he started sending you memes and talking about his ideas for the minecraft world you both started. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him, the conversation going for hours before he had to leave to help with dinner.

When it was time for Ben to come home, you scurried back to your room, feeling relieved but guilty when you closed the door. On one hand, you could still feel the fear you had last night, and you had no idea what to do with it. It was perplexing and off-putting, and thinking too hard on it made you feel like your brain was turning to static, so you opted to not think about it at all, which meant avoiding your brother as well.

But the guilt wouldn't let you be. It turned what should have been the comfort of your room into a place of wrongness, that you were doing something awful by keeping yourself here and not going down to see him like you usually did. Your lip began to bleed, and only then you realized you had been chewing on it since you heard Ben's car pull in.

You contemplated texting Alex for a distraction as you heard him make his way into the house. And then, step by step, make his way way to the hallway, and then to your door.

And then, the knock.

"Can I come in?"

You don't know if you want to answer, so you don't.

"I know you're awake, kid. Your lights on."

Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to figure out what to do. For a moment, your mind latched onto the idea that you could pretend to be asleep, but you immediately shrugged it off. This was going to happen anyway, might as well happen now.

"Come in."

The door opens, and you see Ben, completely exhausted, his gaze nervously flitting towards you and the floor as he carried a fast food bag in his hand.

"I brought dinner."

You instinctively perk up at the mention of food, and he takes that as a sign to step closer and sit on the far side of the bed, bag between you two, as he clasped his hands together. His leg starts to quickly bounce before he stops it.

"Figured I'd pick up something on the way home. Didn't feel like cooking.

You nod, even though there's something in you that compels you to do or say more to try and ease his nerves. Even now, after what he did, you hate to see him upset. You try to push the urge to comfort down as you pointedly look away.

Both of you sit in silence while looking anywhere but at each other. In your peripheral, you can see him fidgeting with his hands.

"I know I scared you last night, I just-"

He nervously shifts in his seat. His voice is halting but sincere.

"It worried me, seeing you gone. You mean so much to me, (Y/N). Ever since you were born, I've been there to take care of you. I can't remember a time without you, and I don't want to. You're a part of me, without you, I... I don't even know who I am."

You look over at him and freeze. You're big brother, the man who protected you and cared for you your whole life, is bunched in on himself, face strained and twitching with barely contained emotion as he doggedly stares directly ahead, like looking at you would hurt him. His eyes are red and dark circles frame them. You swallow, years of experience screaming at you to reach over and comfort him, but instead, you sit, never once looking away as he continues talking.

"I shouldn't have done that to you, kid. I should of known better. Should of contained myself. I try so hard for you, but there's times it feels like it isn't enough, and it keeps me up at night."

He sniffs, and your eyes begin to blur.

"I never wanted to be like that in front of you, you didn't deserve to see that. I-"

He wipes his hands over his face, taking a deep breath as he tries to collect himself. After a beat, he uncovers his face and finally looks at you.

"I'm sorry."

It was like a spell had been broken. You found yourself pushing a food to the side and leaning against his shoulder. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around you, and when you didn't resist, he reached his other arm around you, pulled you into his chest, and began softly rocking you back and forth.

You feel the rise and fall of his chest, and it feels the same as you did as a kid when you would run up to him when something scared you, or when you felt your emotions overwhelm you. He would hold you tight and it felt like you were in the safest place in the world. The relief of that feeling after everything you had been through was like coming home.

Still safely tucked in his arms, you spoke again, voice more quiet and child-like than you meant it to be.

"Promise me you won't do that again."

The mere thought of him acting so uncontrollably and violently towards you was enough to make you nauseous.

He squeezed you tight.

"I promise, kid, never again."

You nodded, unable to reply. The both of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he slowly began letting you go.

After getting fully untangled, you rub your eyes, a feeling of exhaustion settling in as your stomach rumbles.

"I'm hungry."

"Hi hungry, I'm Ben."

His reply is so quick, you think it's automatic for him.

You shoot him a glare, but it's undermined by your smile. He returns it with one of his own.

"You wanna go down and eat? I got you a milkshake too, it's down in the kitchen. But might be a bit melted by now."

You spring up, fast food bag in hand as you make your way towards the door.

"Why didn't you say so, let's go!"

You hear him let out a chuckle, and you let out one reflectively, too.

You both share the meal together, talking and laughing late into the evening, until it was finally time to sleep. You drifted off easily into a deep, restful sleep, finally at peace.

[eddiesxangel]

Kiss Me Underneath the Mistletoe | Mechanic!EddieMunson x Friend!Reader

Cw: Eddie and you share your first kiss. Fluffy goodness. Implied smut (Mentions of a car accident but no injuries) Eddie and the reader are both in their 20’s. Use of nicknames for reader. GN Reader :)

WC: 1.5k

The party was in full swing when Eddie and you arrived at Steve’s house. There were about fifteen cars parked outside his house, and music and laughter filled the home.

Eddie had offered to pick you up because your car was still at his shop due to slipping on some back ice that put you into ditch a few days ago. You were okay; only some minor damage to the bumper had to be fixed. Thankfully you had your mechanic friend's phone number memorized.

“There you are!” Steve sounded exasperated.

You really had only been half an hour late. You had to rush home from work with no car, so you had to take the bus, which took ten times as long, then you had to get ready, and then you and Eddie had to rush to the bakery before they closed for the evening to pick up the Christmas cookies you promised to bring tonight.

“Sorry Stevie, I had to pick up the goods.” you wiggle the box of Christmas cookies you had picked up. And Eddie wiggled the bottle of bourbon in his hands to show you brought gifts.

“Yes!” Dustin said as he zoomed past you, swiping the sugary treats out of your hands.

“Hey!” You scold.

“Sorry! But can’t wait any longer! You’re late enough; we only get these once a year.”

“Whatever, just save me at least one” you giggle.

“I’ll sneak you some, don’t worry,” Eddie whispered in your ear triggering a fantasy of his lips touching your neck instead. Your body shivered from the proximity, and Eddie noticed. He knew he got you. You would be his tonight whether you knew it or not.

There were a lot of people here you didn’t recognize. The night continued without a hitch; dinner was excellent, there were party games, music, and many more drinks afterwards.

Most of Steve’s guests were his coworkers from the office. You had gotten separated from your friend group when a few of the other guests cornered you with the most god-awful conversation about trades and charts and who knows what.

You had been stuck there for what felt like an hour before you finally spot someone out of the group.

Eddie, who can read your face better than anyone, thankfully beelined to your rescue after you gave him save me eyes.

“Hey, there you are! I need your help in the basement. Steve needs us to bring up more booze,” he rests a hand on the small of your back.

You quickly and politely excuse yourself from the conversation, and as soon as the basement door closes, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank god! I don’t think I could stand another moment; I don’t know how Steve does it!”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll always be here to save you,” Eddie smirks, his big hand still on your lower back, guiding you toward the cold cellar.

“Oh, we are actually getting drinks?” You question.

“Yea, babe, what did you think we would be doing down here?” he playfully wiggled his eyebrows before passing you a smaller case of beer while he took on the heavy load.

You were a little disappointed; you thought you might get some alone time with Eddie before returning to the party.

You make your way back up to the sounds of cheering and laughing, unsure what’s going on. You both make it into the kitchen, restocking the cooler and fridge, oblivious to the crowd following Steve, who came running in, waving around some green and red plant while simultaneously spilling his red cocktail on the floor.

“Kiss!” Steve pops up behind you and Eddie, startling you both.

“What the fuck, man”—“You scared me!” You both say simultaneously.

“Too bad, you gotta kiss,” he says, wiggling mistletoe above your heads. You scan the group behind Steve; all your friends stare at you like zoo animals.

“Wha-” “Come on-“ you and Eddie were cut off.

“My party, my rules, you’re standing under the mistletoe. You gotta kiss,” he smirks like he knows what he is doing. It wasn't a secret to your friends you had a crush on Eddie.

“Steven!” You scold. Did you want to kiss Eddie? Yes. Did you want to do it forced in front of all your friends?! No.

As you stood your ground, it became more apparent that Steve wasn’t leaving until Eddie planted one on you.

You look to Eddie to gauge his feelings, but his poker face is not helping.

"You really don't want to kiss me that bad, sweetheart?" he raises a brow to you. Maybe he had read your situation wrong.

"What? No. Yes-No! I just want-"

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!”

You were cut off because you heard your friends begin to chant behind Steve’s stupid, smug face.

“Fine!” You succumbed to the peer pressure. You turn and grab Eddie’s head in both hands, pull him down, and plant one on him.

If you were paying attention, you would have heard the cheers from your friends. A minute later, you would have heard the gags and them scurrying away when Eddie stuck his tongue in your mouth. You would have heard Steve mumble “atta’boy” before leaving you two alone, but you didn’t hear anything other than your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

All of your senses were consumed by Eddie. His mouth was soft and gentle like he didn’t want to break you. He tasted like cranberries and bourbon. His tongue broke through, and you let out the slightest whimper as your hands moved from his cheeks to his waist…. His tight little waist that you have been drooling over since you saw him in that tight black tank top with his coveralls hanging off his waist, sweat dripping down his chest and grease-stained skin. When you walked into his work for the first time all those months ago. He was pure sex appeal that day, and you hadn’t seen him the same way since.

Eddie’s hands crept up from the waistband of your pants, slipped up under your shirt and grazed the soft skin of your back. Goosebumps spread throughout your whole body as Eddie continued to pull you closer to him.

You could have been there for a minute or an hour, you didn’t know, but the moment finally broke when Dustin walked back into the kitchen for those special cookies you’d brought.

“Oh my god! Get a room” he rolled his eyes, and the two of you broke apart, not realizing you were sucking face and feeling one another up in the middle of Steve’s kitchen like you were two teenagers.

A rush of blood spread across Eddie’s face. His lips were just as red as his cheeks. Your face was also just as hot. You could feel the rush of blood travel up your chest to your throat and across your cheeks as you took in what had just happened.

An uncomfortable giggle left your lips, and Eddie swore he heard angels singing. A smile broke on his face, and you felt at ease.

“You wanna get out of here?” Eddie reaches out a hand. You grab it while frivolously nodding your head. Eddie pulls you through the crowded house, trying to slip past everyone.

“Get it, Eddie!” “That’s my boy!” “Finally!” “About damn time!”

All your friends shout, and you hide your face in Eddie’s chest while he pulls your coat out from the closet.

Eddie giggles as Steve approaches the both of you, blocking the door.

“So when’s the wedding? Do I get credit? Or does Eddie? 'cuz he asked me to set up this elaborate ruse?” he wiggled his eyebrows at the two of you.

“What?” You looked at Eddie, and he chuckled uncontrollably.

“I’m going to have to cut you off, man. No more Christmas cocktails for you.” he swiped the crystal glass from Steve’s hands and chugged the rest.

“Hey!” Steve drunkenly protested.

“What’s he talking about Ed’s?” You giggle.

“Ol’Eddie here asked me to help divise a plaaaaan to get yo-” Eddie cupped a hand over Steve’s mouth and smiled at you with the biggest grin that said he was guilty.

“Real smooth, Munson,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He stepped closer and lifted your chin up to him. He was so cocky, but it made your stomach do a summersault at his touch.

“Ok, turtle doves, get out of here already and make a little drummer boy,” Steve winked.

“Ew, you're gross! Ed’s right, no more cocktails for you.” Robin grabbed Steve by the arm and whisked him away while you and Eddie giggled out the door.

“So you’ve been wanting to kiss me?” You bite your lip as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Yeah,” he sighed as he pushed up against the car while looking into your eyes.

“You know you didn’t need to drag Steve into it” you giggle.

“Well, where’s the fun in that baby?” He whispered before leaning in to kiss you again. Your body felt it was on fire even though it was below freezing outside. You didn’t care. Eddie’s warmth was enough, and his warmth was indeed the thing that kept you warm for the rest of that night.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡A Big Night In｡⋆.

Dick Grayson x plus size reader

The one where Dickie and Dove finally have a night to themselves

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, fluff, mom!reader, embarrassment, sort of breeding kink?

WC: 1.8k

Minors DNI

The Graysons

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Now, if she gets fussy, she really likes the koala with the missing ear. She literally can’t sleep without it.” Dick was panicking, that much was plain to see and Bruce couldn't help but smile. It was moments like this, where his boy was filled with anxiety about something so normal as leaving his 6 month old baby with her grandparents overnight, that made his heart ache in the best way.

“Chum, I know how to take care of Alice, I think the 20 page binder you gave each of us on her needs helps.” He glared at his father, arms tightening around his baby as she sat on his narrow hips, happily playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“Oh leave him alone.” His mother scolded, giving her husband a light slap on his arm. “Don't pretend you weren't even more upset when you had to leave Dick alone for the first time. I seem to remember you calling me every ten minutes to get updates on how he was doing.” A light pink flush spread across Bruce's cheeks at the memory.

Grumbling, his eyes dropped to the floor like a petulant child. “It wasn't every ten minutes.” Dick shot his mother a grateful smile before turning his attention to Alice who didn't seem to share her father's level of anxiety.

It was a big day, her first sleepover without her parents. It would have happened sooner, in fact the first attempt had been when she was three months old. You and Dick needed some 'alone time' and your in-laws had been more than happy to extend their babysitting services. But an hour before they would come to pick her up, you and Dick had a breakdown and cancelled, instead spending the night curled up together in bed, Alice between you.

But, you couldn't put it off any longer. Alice needed to be socialised with other people and you needed to get laid.

So after a tearful goodbye, Dick drove her to Gotham, insisting on a little daddy-daughter bonding time before she was handed over to her grandparents.

“She likes thunderstorm sounds when she goes to sleep. And if she's still fussy, there's some frozen milk in the cooler bag.” Said bag was handed over to the awaiting hands of her grandfather, along with a Wonder Woman themed duffle-bag that held everything else she could possibly need.

“Ba.” Alice spat out, chubby arm pointing to her grandmother. Dick knew he had to get this over with, like pulling off a bandaid.

He pressed a long kiss to the patch of dark hair on the top of her head, inhaling that baby smell she hadn't yet grown out of. “You’ll be good for nana and pops won't you?” She cooed, eyes still locked on the older woman. He sighed, pecking her soft skin a couple more times before she slipped from his arms and placed safely in his mother's.

“Everything will be fine, I promise baby bird. You two have fun tonight.” Dick was quickly shooed out of the manor but not without a vague threat to Bruce to keep her safe, which he brushed off with his usual nonchalance.

By the time he had returned to his apartment in Blüdhaven, his mood had improved, especially with the text he received from you telling him to come straight to the bedroom when he got home.

“Dove?” He called into the darkened apartment, slipping off his shoes as he stumbled forward. A trail of clothes, haphazardly thrown on the hardwood guided him forward. There was a dim glow coming from the room just off of the kitchen, the smell of vanilla like a siren's call.

“Come on Dickie, we have a lot to make up for and not a lot of time to do it.” Your voice called out to him.

Dick groaned and palmed his already throbbing cock- it had been a long time, too long. “You're playing a dangerous game, Dove.” His voice thick with arousal as he called back to you.

His own clothes quickly joined yours, leaving him in just his boxers as he stepped into the bedroom where all the air was knocked from his lungs.

Your perfect, soft, naked body was completely on display for him as you lounged on the bed. 

Your skin glowed in the soft orange light of the room and for a moment, Dick thought that there was no way you were real and that you were his.

“Holy fuck.” He watched with wide eyes as your legs fell open, revealing paradise to him, your fingers already tracing over your clit. “Leave it!” He suddenly shouted, now furiously tugging at his boxers. “That's all mine baby!”

Your giggles quickly turned into moans as your husband's strong body forced you further into the mattress and his lips met yours in a truly desperate kiss. Your nails dug into his muscular back making his hips buck into yours.

“Well, what are you gonna do about it daddy?” You cooed into his mouth, your left hand travelling down his front deliberately slow.

He caught your hand before you could reach his cock and with a dangerous gleam in his eye, he responded. “How about baby number 2?”

The cold metal of his wedding ring against your heated thigh sent a shiver up your spine, making his smirk grow as your nipples pebbled beneath his gaze. His fingers inched towards your centre, quickly gathering the arousal that had smeared onto your skin.

“God, you get even sexier by the day.” You gasped as he finally touched where you needed him the most, both easing and adding more fuel to your lust. His own patience was quickly wearing thin so your husband wasted no time in sliding two thick fingers inside you.

“Dick!” You threw your head back with a moan of his name.

“That's it, that's my pretty dove.” With his other hand planted by your head, Dick watched his fingers pump in and out of you, his skin now shinny with your wetness. “You're so fucking wet dove, must be aching for me.”

Your only response was to tighten around his fingers, your orgasm dangerously close. “Please please.” You begged.

“Do you want to cum on my fingers or my cock?” Dick breathed into your ear but the way that he was pressed so tightly against you, you could feel his thick cock throbbing against your thigh, the decision was already made for you.

“Want you inside, wanna feel your cock again.” His body sagged against you as he groaned from deep in his chest.

“Fuck, you can't say stuff like that- gonna make me cum before we even get to the good part.”

“Then you better fuck me already Grayson.” But the bite of your words was softened by the moan he forced from you as he ripped his fingers from your aching cunt and replaced them with the fat head of his cock.

“If you insist.” The first thrust was always deliciously painful as he stretched you out, making you feel every inch of his perfect length until he was nestled against your cervix and his balls pressed tightly to your ass.

Your groans mingled together in a beautiful lewd symphony, filling the bedroom like music. “So fucking tight.” Dick moaned through clenched teeth. “Need to fuck you more.”

“Yes.” You hissed both in response to your husband and because at that moment, his hips twitched causing his cock to brush against that sensitive bundle of nerves inside you.

“My poor girl, been neglecting my perfect wife. Gonna make it up to you, make you sit on my face till you beg me to stop.” His first thrusts were tentative, almost shy just like the first time you fell into bed with him but as you began to relax beneath him, he switched it up.

He knocked the moans from your lungs as he jackhammered into you, his own desperate need for release blinding him to everything else. “Never gonna let you feel empty again, I'll make sure you're always full of me one way or another.”

You sobbed with a particularly brutal thrust to your cervix and you dragged your nails down his back, leaving bright red marks. “Yes!” You cried.

“Fuck, your pussy is so fucking warm and tight, need to cum.”

“Inside, need it inside.” Your ankles locked around his hips. Your stomach began to pull tight just as Dick's thrusts began to waver.

“C'mon dove, cum for me- please.” And you shattered below him, melting into a puddle of ecstasy as your husband filled you with his cum, prolonging your orgasm.

Your left hand tangled in his dark hair and tugged his lips into yours. Your breath mingled as you both came down from your highs but Dick remained inside you, neither of you keen on having this end just yet.

“I love you.” You whispered to him and your husband smiled against your lips.

“I love you.” He replied with a gentle peck. “Soooooo, round 2?”

——————

“Dick's late.” Bruce's eyes once again flicked to the grandfather clock in the corner of the living room and then to the entryway but once again, there was no indication that his son had arrived.

Looking up from the floor where she had been playing with their granddaughter, his wife rolled her eyes. “Bruce, we've just given them their first uninterrupted date night in months, of course they're gonna be late. And hopefully they spent the night productively.” She said this last part almost to herself as she turned back to Alice who suddenly believed her right foot to be the most delicious thing ever.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at his wife. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” She sing-songed. “Oh look! They're here!”

And sure enough, Dick and a limping you walked through the door, not looking as well-rested as Bruce assumed you would be but both of you had big smiles on your faces.

“My girl!” Of course Dick immediately dove for his daughter, sending her into peels of laughter at seeing her father trip over his own feet in his hurry to get to her. You instead approached your father-in-law, greeting him with a warm hug and kiss to the cheek.

“Thank you for watching her, I hope she didn't give you too much trouble.” Bruce waved you off.

“She was an angel, like always. I thought you and Dick were going to get some rest, you look like you haven't slept a wink.” Dick snorted but immediately stopped when both you and his mother shot him a look.

You cleared your throat and with a look of embarrassment, you avoided Bruce's eyes. “We lost track of time and didn't get to bed until late.” You were content to leave it there but apparently, your husband had other ideas.

“Alice, what do you think about having a baby brother?” You and your mother-in-law sighed heavily as Bruce went pale, the realisation finally dawning on him.

“Oh-oh god. I think I need a drink.” 

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The Graysons

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[makethemhoesmad]

first sight

dancing with our hands tied part one!

paige bueckers x reader

—

brooke’s pov

“holy shit brooke,” taniya shouts from her room. 

“what,” i yell back. it’s a questionable method of communication, but it works for us. i hear her footsteps clambering towards my room, then my door bursts open and taniya, my five-foot-barely anything roomate flings herself onto my bed.

“paige FUCKING bueckers commented on your post and all you did was like it? i thought i taught you better than this, bee,” taniya says, shaking her head at me.

“well, it’s not like-“

“HOLD ON,” taniya cuts me off, “she liked this comment saying ‘the spine tattoo…my god’ brooklyn mae johns she’s fucking in love with you.”

i roll my eyes at taniya’s wild predictions, which aren’t new to our friendship. “first of all, my name isn’t even brooklyn, second of all, wait, check my phone, who’s that message from?”

taniya picks up my phone, reads something, then screams at the top of her lungs and chucks my phone at me.

Paige💕

Hey was just wondering what college you went to?

i stare blankly at the screen, starstruck. taniya nudges me, motioning at the phone to respond.

Brookee🐝

Uconn, like you. 

Paige💕

Oh shit really? I didn’t know you knew so much about me😏

“is she really tryna flirt with me IN MY DMS right now?” i say out loud. taniya giggles.

“no shit sherlock, that’s why she slid into your dms. tell her you like basketball or something!”

Brookee🐝

i mean, i like basketball and my dorm isn’t that far from gampel. the mcdonald’s like twenty minutes away is like ten times cooler tho.

“you sneaky shit,” taniya snickers.

Paige💕

Fr you should meet me there in like 30.

Brookee🐝 

No shit?

Paige💕

Yeah i’ll see ya then

i swipe out of instagram and start pacing around my room, opening drawers and holding things up to my body.

“bee, cool it. paige is about to show up in team travel gear, so your sweatpants and cute ass tank top are fine. put on some mascara or something if it’ll help you chill, but you’ll look great.” taniya is a little psychotic most of the time, but she’s calm as fuck in these situations.

i twist my hair up into a clip and climb into my car, palms sweaty. i don’t know why i agreed, this is so creepy and random.

Paige💕

i’m otw, u almost there?

Brookee🐝

yeah almost, ps don’t text and drive

Paige💕

hypocrite

Brookee🐝

😔

~

“hey brooke!” i hear a voice from behind the booth im sitting in, nursing a sprite and a small fry.

“hi paige,” i say, grinning. she smiles back, and slides into the other side of the booth, then reaches over and takes one of my fries.

“get your own,” i chide, while sliding the fries closer to her. “besides that, why’d you randomly want to know what college i go to?”

she shifts in her seat. as she opens her mouth, a waitress comes by with a happy meal. paige opens it up and dumps her fries into the other end of the nugget box. before she eats, i quickly snap a picture.

“you don’t mind if i post this? it’s kinda how im paying for my guilty pleasures.”

she nods, “yeah, tag me. anyway, i asked you about what college you went to because i thought i knew you from somewhere, but i just could not figure out what. also, you’re like, really pretty so i wanted to talk to you.”

she blushes at the last part, which makes my cheeks go a bit pink. 

“well, you’re not exactly bad looking yourself. when can i see you again, because it’s getting late and i want to see my bed,” i say. taniya would be proud of my straightforwardness.

“Well, i’ve got tickets to a Sun & Fever game for monday, and the person i was going with just bailed on me, so do you wanna come?” 

i blink at paige in shock. i’ve literally known her in person for maybe twenty five minutes and she’s already offering me things?

“i mean, im not doing anything, and the Sun’s arena isn’t that far, is it?” i ask, hoping to get any more information on whatever she’s proposing.

“yeah, it’s probably only like an hour with traffic, but i can pick you up and drive you home if you want? or we can get a hotel? i have a hotel, but i can cancel it if you wanna you home, i just didn’t want to drive again after the game because leaving would be hell.”

i nod, hoping it looks cool and confident and not utterly confused.

“yeah, we can keep the hotel, it’s okay.”

“aight, i’ll get you on monday around three.” 

paige walks me out to my car, and as i climb in, she grabs my hand and squeezes it. once i see that she’s gone, i call taniya.

“Bitch do i have so much to tell you.”

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 51

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 48, part 49, part 50

“What if we let him stay with us,” Eddie says out of the blue, sitting on one of their new kitchen chairs.

Wayne stops unpacking glasses, turning to look at him. “What?”

“Steve, what if we let him stay with us. Just while he tries to find a place.” He fidgets with his hands, avoiding Wayne’s eye contact. “We’ve, uh, been talking, and he’s put off trying to find a place. Now that he knows the end date, he’s started looking but can’t afford any of places that are open right now.”

Wayne pushes the box back onto the counter, he can finish it later. He turns fully toward Eddie, leaning back on the counter and crossing his arms. “So, you want us to let him stay here.”

“Yeah, and it could be like paying him back, you know. For letting us stay with him. Return the favor, and everything.”

He sighs, wiping a hand down his face. “We don’t exactly have the space for that. Unless you’re planning on him sleeping on the couch.”

Eddie stutters, further ignoring Wayne’s gaze. Mouth opening with no sound coming out.

“Or is this the part where you finally tell me you two are seeing each other?”

Eddie freezes. “How did you know?”

Wayne shakes his head. “Cause I’m not an idiot. You two go from chewing each other’s head off to being super close and touchy. And I saw Steve try to sneak out of your room when I got back from a shift. He thought he played it off, but I knew.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wanted to see how long it took you to tell me yourself. It’s been almost three weeks, and we all live together. You really thought I didn’t know?”

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know. We were just feeling it out, didn’t want to tell anyone in case it blew up fast.”

“And now you want him to move in with us? Sleep in your room, in your bed. You really think that’s a good idea?”

“I thought you would be cooler about this. Steve’s a good guy, you know that.”

He does know that. But he knows a lot of things that leave him questioning. Even if it’s just from passing comments. Ammunition that could have been meaningless, but there was history behind it. History Wayne doesn’t know but can assume what it means.

Maybe he’s an ass for assuming. Maybe he’s just being overprotective. But when it comes to matters of the heart, people can be reckless. They can jump without looking just to get hurt in the end.

Steve might be a good guy for letting them stay in his house. He might be a good friend, a good role model for the kids. But a good boyfriend, for Wayne’s boy, he’ll never be good enough. No one will.

“I know. I’m just worried that letting him stay here would make a jump you’re not quite ready yet.”

Eddie nods, looking down at his hands. “It’s early, I know. And it’d be temporary. I just—I don’t want to leave him high and dry. He helped us when we had nowhere else to go, I thought we might be able to so the same.”

Wayne gets where his head’s at. He gets wanting to do something to thank Steve that would be anywhere near the way he’s helped them. Hell, Wayne does too. There are just so many reservations in his head. So many ways that this could go wrong.

“I’ll think about it,” Wayne concedes. “On a few conditions, it is actually temporary, and I’m the one who talks to him about it. You say nothing until I do, got it.”

“Got it.” Eddie smiles brighter than he has in a long time. “Thank you, it means a lot, even you just thinking about it.”

He sighs. “Yeah well, you have a point.”

“You’re not going to get, like, super weird and protective now that you know right?”

Wayne scoffs, going back to the box that needs unpacking. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Steve told me what happened while I was still in the coma. I know you didn’t like him around me. I know that has changed, but it’s different now. And don’t you remember back in my freshman year where I told you about that guy in my English class and you threatened to kill him if he looked at me wrong?”

He shrugs. “That’s just part of being a parent, can’t turn it off.”

That kid would have deserved what came to him if Wayne actually followed through. After the first few months of peace, he made Eddie’s life a living hell.

“Well, Steve’s a good guy, and he’s good to me, so just, tone it down a little bit.”

Wayne turns to look at Eddie again. He’s honestly surprised that this conversation is happening, but also glad that it is. Eddie’s hasn’t exactly seen that many people. Not in the town that threatens to crucify you for walking on the wrong side of the road. As far as Wayne was supposed to know, this was Eddie’s first time seeing someone. But he knew that on some of the weekends where Eddie would disappear for a night, it was to sneak into one of those bars down in Indy.

That was dangerous, this was less so. As far as Wayne knows, Steve’s romantic life is a mixed bag. Short term relationships and one long one that ended semi-badly. Sue him for being cautious. Sue him for looking out for his kid. After all the pain they went through in the past year, he could at least try to make sure heartbreak wasn’t added to the mix.

“You happy?” Wayne asks, watching as Eddie’s face softens.

“Yeah.”

“You being safe?”

“We haven’t gotten that far yet, but when we do, we will.”

Wayne nods. “Then I’ll tone it down a little. Just a little. Don’t go expecting miracles.”

The rest of the box gets unpacked, the glasses and other dishware slowly filling the cabinets. The home starting to really look like a home.

“Thank you,” Eddie says quietly.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Steve gets back from work late. Wayne wasn’t exactly waiting for him, but he wasn’t exactly not waiting for him. He was just in the kitchen, putting something together for a late dinner, knowing that Steve was going to be home soon. If it felt like a good time, he was going to bring it up. If it didn’t, he was going to give it a day.

But he can feel that protective burn bubbling up and can’t snuff it out. He needed to know.

“I know about you two,” Wayne says. More menacingly than he meant to, but doesn’t know how else to start this.

Steve freezes, hand on the fridge’s handle. Holding it open. “What?”

“You and Eddie, I know.”

He nods, closing the door and clearing his throat. “For how long?”

“Few weeks. You’re really not a slick as you think you are.”

Steve leans on the counter, crossing his arms. Ready for a lecture. “We were going to tell you, just wanted to make sure we weren’t making a mistake first.”

“Interesting word there, mistake.” Wayne’s pressing, trying to lure out what he needs to see. Make sure that this isn’t something he needs to worry about.

“I just didn’t want to lose another friend because of a relationship. It took me years to be able to be friends with Nancy. I didn’t want the same to happen with Eddie.”

Wayne nods. Satisfied with the answer.

“What you said a few weeks ago, that you saw the way I acted around him. And you wanted to stop the hurt before it started. I’m not planning on hurting him. I can’t promise I won’t mess up; I tend to do that a lot. But I always try to make up for it, to learn. I’ve gotten really good at apologizing.”

The protectiveness dies down, Steve hitting everything he wanted to hear. And Eddie’s right, Wayne knows that he’s a good guy. He’s made mistakes, but he’s grown. He’s changed. It’s as much as Wayne can ask for.

“You know, earlier today, Eddie brought up this idea of letting you stay with us until you find a place on your own.”

Steve’s face fills with shock. “He did?”

Wayne nods. “Yeah. As you can imagine, I had my hesitations. We don’t exactly have spare rooms like you do. But,” Wayne can’t believe he’s really saying this, but it feels right, “if you wanted, you could stay with us. With the promise that you find a place on your own, and that this won’t put an unnecessary strain on your new relationship.”

“I—” Steve tries to get out. “Thank you.”

Before Wayne can register what’s happening, Steve’s hugging him.

“Thank you,” he repeats. The words heavy with relief.

“Yeah, well. After all you did for me, it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

Steve lets go, taking a step back. “But you didn’t, a lot of people don’t. So, thank you.”

He realizes that there is so much story of Steve that he still doesn’t know. Hurt and pain that he keeps hidden away. Not for other people to see. Steve walks away before he can ask, or even question. Hesitating before walking down the hall to Eddie’s room.

This was going to be interesting.

apologies for the late post, I was at work and then driving home from break, and forgot to post before I left (like I planned to). And posting tag lists from mobile sucks ass.

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[dumbasswithapen]

can we just listen to Disabled people when they say what accommodations they need??? Like it really isn’t that hard to just take someone’s word on what is best for their own body! Whether it’s more or less or different than what you deem they need it really isn’t your place to say!!!

Sometimes, people need more than they show! Especially if they’re used to being in pain all the time, then they won’t always display that discomfort.

Sometimes the accommodations someone needs are different than what you assume. A friend who struggles with noise sensitivity may ask for you to turn on a different type of music, instead of turning it down, and if that is what they express they need you don’t have to say “oh no I can just turn it down!” and ignore them saying that that isn’t necessary because your idea of noise sensitivity is different than their own experiences and needs.

And sometimes people need less than you try to provide! Or simply don’t want that accommodation at the time! And here’s the crazy part: this applies even if what they say to do could hurt them. Obviously this isn’t a rule for every situation*, but for some it absolutely is. If your friend wants to tag along for, say, a hike, and they have joint pain it isn’t your place to add in “oh no but they can’t do [the hike]! They’ll be in pain! We have to do something else to accommodate them!” If that person expressed a desire to go, especially if offered other options prior that wouldn’t hurt them, let them live. Let them do the thing that puts them in pain, because Disabled people don’t always want to be shoved into a little box of safety. Absolutely sometimes they do, and some might always want to, but if they don’t, then let them make their own choices for their body. Just as anyone else does. You go out and get drunk, even if it gives you a hangover. You go skating even if you’re shit at it and scratch up your knees a bunch. Just because someone is Disabled doesn’t mean that they can’t do the same thing and do that fun thing that hurts them.

I don’t know if I’m displaying my point how I want, so here’s my own example: I am allergic to the cold. Anything below 60 degrees (f) I get hives. Any water cooler than a fucking warm shower I get hives. My joints don’t do great when it’s cold out. This does not mean that when I say I want to go swimming, you can say “oh but you can’t you’ll get hives!” Or “no you can’t do that you’ll be in pain!” Because. I know that. I know that. I know my Disability better than anyone else can, and I can ask for accommodations I need. I am not a child to be wrapped in bubble wrap so I don’t get hurt. My body is my body and I can do with it what I want, and face the consequences. Likewise, just because I said I wanted to go swimming doesn’t mean that when I don’t want to go out and muck around in the snow it is anyone’s right to say “oh but you wanted to swim earlier, so obviously it isn’t that bad for you!” Or “oh it’s fine it’s not that cold! Just wear a sweater!” Because at that time I need and want different accommodations and that should be listened to and considered accordingly, as far as it can be in that situation.

Seriously. Just listen to us. We are in our own bodies. We know ourselves. It really isn’t that hard

*a situation where this point would be null is, for example, a situation where the person has been peer pressured into doing something, or one where you know the person well and know that the endurance of pain is a self-harming behavior