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#he brought her a sandwich let’s go
harpydrawsstuff · 4 months
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Coraline’s a goblin in artist mode
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yandere-writer-momo · 3 months
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The final part of Mommy! First part
Yandere Short Stories: Mommy
Delusional Yandere Single Father x Teacher Afab Reader x Platonic Yandere Son
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Jesse wrapped his arms around (your name)‘s legs, the small boy hummed in contentment when she ran her fingers through his black curls. Why couldn’t she be his mom? She was so warm and gentle… so much better than the woman who gave birth to him.
“Jesse? I think your nanny is waiting to take you home.” (Your name) smiled down at Jesse who only burrowed himself further into her skirts. She sighed at how clingy the young boy was, but she was sympathetic to his feelings. Jesse didn’t have any warmth in his home so he sought it out from her.
“I don’t want to go home… can’t I stay with you?” Jesse glanced up at her with his blue puppy dog eyes, his lips in a pout. “Can’t you just adopt me, I’ll be good…”
“Jesse, I can’t adopt you.” (Your name) felt her heart clench when he started to cry. “Jesse-“
“But all the other kids have a mommy and I don’t! I want to be read stories and I want homemade lunches. I don’t want to be alone!” Jesse buried his face into (your name)’s skirts. His little hands clutched tightly onto the cotton fabric in a death grip. “I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be quiet and I won’t ask for much-“
(Your name)’s thumbs instantly brushed away the hot tears that dribbled down his soft cheeks to smooth the young boy. Her beautiful face now in a frown.
“Shh… you can come hang out with me when you’re lonely at school.” (Your name) warmly smiled at Jesse. She ran her fingers through his thick curls as he sniffled.
“R-really? You’ll let me spend time with you?” Jesse’s voice trembled as he tried to calm his tears. “Can I eat lunch with you everyday? I like when you cut the crust off my sandwiches…”
“Of course, Jesse.” (Your name) reassured Jesse, who buried his face in her skirts once more. This sweet boy… he deserved love.
Unbeknownst to (your name), Jesse had a wicked smile on his sweet face that was hidden in her skirts.
Jesse may have been the spit image of Liam, but he was still his birth mother’s son… and (your name) would be his mommy one way or another.
.
.
.
Jesse often hogged (your name)’s attention from the other children. He’d rush to her first whenever class would start or end to hug her, he’d raise his hand for every question so he could be praised, and he’d constantly ask for help.
Jesse was not liked by the other children but he didn’t care all that much about them.
Because Jesse wanted his mommy to only have eyes for him.
.
.
.
Liam felt nervous at the florist shop he was in. The various floral displays of affection made his stomach twist into a knot. He was so nervous… to buy apology flowers for his son’s teacher.
Liam ran a hand through his dark hair with a sigh. This was an incredibly frustrating experience for him since he’s never bought a gift for a woman before. Especially not one as lovely as (your name). Liam couldn’t get her angry expression out of his head… she haunted his dreams and lingered in the crannies in his mind.
She was an itch he couldn’t scratch and Liam disliked this alien feeling she brought out. Liam didn’t know why his heart pounded in his chest at the thought of her or why his cheeks heated up. It made him anxious.
“And what can I help you with today, sir?” The florist smiled warmly at Liam who nearly jumped out of his skin. Liam had been so lost in his thoughts, the florist had caught him off guard.
“I think I would like a bouquet of roses…” Liam’s forest green eyes glanced at the red roses in interest. “The reddest ones you have.”
(Your name) would look lovely in red… Liam couldn’t help the image of her in a red dress that surfaced in his mind. He didn’t quite understand his attraction toward her, but he hoped it would fade.
.
.
.
Liam stood before (your name) in her classroom, his cheeks rosy as he studied her expression. Her arms held the fragrant roses in confusion.
“Mister Isbert? There was no need to get me roses-“
“I’m sorry for making presumptions about your character. It was unjust of me.” Liam bowed to (your name) in apology. “Please forgive me-“
Liam gasped when she moved closer to him, which and whom snap his head up in attention. His forest green eyes wide when she gave him such a warm smile… he’s never seen a smile like that directed toward him in his entire life.
“It’s perfectly okay. I understand you may have been through some trauma but I assure you I’m not after those sorts of things with you.” (Your name) then turned her gaze toward Jesse who peaked around the corner of the classroom. It seemed the young boy was eager to enter. “I’m just concerned for Jesse is all-“
“I do not know how to be a good father…” Liam shyly admitted, his forest green eyes focused on her confused expression. “I have never been taught warmth.”
“Well I have no issue teaching you how to spend time with a child… if you’d like of course, mister Isbert.” (Your name) smiled at Liam whose cheeks went aflame.
“I’d love to…” Liam cleared his throat and gave (your name) a soft smile. “And please, call me Liam.”
The two adults smiled warmly at each other which made Jesse perk up from his spot. Maybe he’d get her to be his mommy after all…
.
.
.
(Your name) laughed when Liam tried to tie Jesse’s shoe laces. The businessman was clueless…
“Here, let me help.” (Your name) gently took the shoelaces from Liam and slowly tied them in front of him. “The dragon goes under the bridge, through the loop, and into the castle!”
Jesse giggled at the rhyme, his eyes sparkled at his dad. “See! Mommy knows how to tie shoes!”
Liam blushed in embarrassment when (your name) and Jesse shared a laugh. He never knew how simple this was… how a family should be.
“Why don’t we read a book together?”
Liam glanced over at (your name) while she picked out a fairy tale. A ray of sunlight hit her at the perfect angle that made her even more angelic.
Liam never knew someone could be so beautiful…
.
.
.
Weeks went by of Liam’s ‘lessons’ of fatherhood. The two adults would laugh together as (your name) tried to teach him how to be more affectionate with his son, unaware that the businessman started to be affectionate with her as well… Liam came to terms that he loved her.
Liam loved the young woman who was eager to help him mend his relationship with his son and teach him how to love. To not take out his trauma onto Jesse and to be more open to change.
Liam became a better person by being around (your name) and he had no interest in going back to the way his life was before he got to know her better. The two of them were truly a power couple! She’s shown him a new side of life he never knew existed… who knew Jesse would indirectly introduce Liam to his soulmate?
Liam blushed as he sat at his desk, his head filled with thoughts of (your name). The image of her holding Liam in her arms burned in his mind.
How could someone look so perfect holding his child?
Liam dug into his desk drawer and pulled out one of the many drawing Jesse had made of (your name) and him. The three of them as a happy family.
Liam lit up a cigar and took a deep inhale of the smoke. Yes… he’d ask her to be his wife. To be Jesse’s mom.
Liam held the picture close to his chest. He needed to tell her how he felt… of how he loved her.
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.
.
Liam upped security around the school as usual since he dropped by for the lessons. Liam wanted to ensure this entire ordeal remained private, he had no desire to add more stress onto poor (your name)’s life… today, they were gong to become an official family.
Liam sighed dreamily as he thought of what was about to happen today. (Your name) would be so beautiful as his wife and future mother of more children. He wondered how many siblings Jesse would like? To add onto their perfect family.
“Is there something wrong, Liam?” Liam perked up when (your name) softly called his name, she was careful not to disturb the sleeping Jesse in her arms. “You’ve been lost in space for a while now.”
“Would you be interested in dating me?” Liam’s blunt question nearly made (your name) fall over in shock. Date him? Where on earth did he get the idea that she wanted that sort of relationship with him?
“I don’t think we should.” (Your name) smiled warmly at Liam who frowned at her gentle rejection. “You’re a CEO of a big corporation and I’m just a measly kindergarten teacher.”
“I could take care of you.” Liam whispered softly. “You’d never struggle financially and you could be with Jesse every day. Don’t you want Jesse to be happy?”
(Your name) glanced down at the young boy who remained asleep. She did care about Jesse… but not enough to date his father.
“I’m sorry but I can’t do that.” (Your name) sighed softly as she handed Jesse to Liam to take. “I hope you find someone on your level to be with, Liam.”
Liam could only sit on the floor in shock when she walked to her desk to gather her belongings. She didn’t want him? Why didn’t she want him?
Liam tried to speak but he couldn’t find the words to stop her. How could he tell her he’s never felt this way before? That he wanted her? That he-
“I love you!” (Your name) froze in the doorway when Liam blurted out his declaration of love.
“W-what-“ Liam scrambled to his feet to try to stand before her. His lithe body hovered over her like a shadow.
“I love you and I’ve never felt this way before… please give me a chance.”
“I’m sorry, Liam-“
“I won’t accept no as an answer.” Liam felt his stomach twist but he needed to get her to be his… he needed her. “I’ll ruin your life if you don’t accept my love. I’ve never wanted anything in my life as much as I want you.”
Jesse stirred awake in Liam’s arms, the young boy’s eyes wide at his father’s words. “Become Jesse’s mom. I’m serious about being with you.”
“I-“ (your name) was cut off by Jesse who excitedly reached for her.
“Mommy? You’ll be my mommy?!” Jesse began to cry when he hands grabbed hers. “Mommy. Mommy!”
“Yes, Jesse.” Liam smiled down at Jesse as he pulled (your name) close. “Miss (last name) is going to be your mommy.”
“No-“ (your name) gasped when Liam suddenly bent down to kiss her which made Jesse smile brightly.
“We should head home, right?” Liam turned to Jesse who smiled brightly at his dad. “Like a happy family should.”
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harryspet · 1 month
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bambi eyes (6) r.cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, DUBCON, dd/lg, sugar daddy rafe, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression. little editing, barry doing barry things 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: Enjoy!
word count: 4.5k
In which your Daddy finally takes you to the country club.
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You were reading—slowly but surely. You took each sentence of the chapter book word by word, sounding out each syllable until it made sense to you. With a pink highlighter, you marked over every word you didn’t know the meaning of. You’d ask Rafe about those later or spend some time flipping through the dictionary. You flipped around in the cloud of linens you called a bed, attempting to find another comfortable position. You were reading about a girl with cat-like superpowers and the adventures she went on with her pet cats. 
Lana had told you about all the stray cats she feeds out by her house and how a lot of them will let her pet them once they’ve been around her long enough. You’ve been doing your absolute best to stay on Rafe’s good side, knowing the next thing you’d ask him was if he’d let you get a cat. You knew there were plenty out there that needed good homes, just like you did at one point. 
You didn’t ask him to take you anywhere unless he invited you. And after that lady had that outburst at the grocery store with him, his invites became less frequent. Every week, he took you to ballet practice and straight home. You reminded yourself to be grateful even for that experience since it kept your boredom at bay. When your Daddy called, you came straight away. When he told you to stay in your room, you stayed. When he held your wrist so hard that they bruised, you kept tears from escaping your eyes. When he brought you a present, you thanked him with your words and happily with your mouth. 
A knock at your door caused you to sit up straight. You didn’t ever need to respond with “come in,” as the knock was just a warning that he was coming in, not a request. Rafe eyed you, the crinkles in his eyes letting you know he needed sleep before he looked down at his expensive gold watch. “If I’m not mistaken, I was invited to a one-o’clock tea party and lunch, and my host has yet to retrieve me.”
You palmed your face, your cheeks heating up. “I lost track of time, sorry.” You closed your book, stood, and straightened out your short gingham dress, “Everything should be ready though. Bunny is dressed. I just need help carrying all the guests.”
Before you could leave your book on the bed, Rafe said, “Bring it. I want you to read me somethin’.”
You agreed although the idea made you nervous. You grabbed Bunny, who was dressed in a matching gingham outfit, and then directed Rafe over to your mountain of stuffed animals. Impressively, he grabbed the six stuffed animals in one fell swoop, “Got ‘em, let’s go.”
Now that it was starting to get nicer outside, Lana suggested turning your tea parties into picnics on the front lawn. She’d laid out a floral linen sheet and placed a beautiful flower centerpiece in the middle, along with a wicker basket. You took your stuffed animals one by one from Rafe’s hand, placing them perfectly along the edge of the sheet, “And you sit here, Daddy,” You directed him and waited for him to get comfortable, “I’ll go get the sweet tea and finger sandwiches!” 
“Don’t run!” Rafe shouted after you as you hurried back into Tannyhill. As soon as you were out of his line of sight, you picked up your speed, looking to find Lana. 
You found Lana in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the array of desserts, “These look beautiful, Lana!” You exclaimed as she finished piping pink icing onto the cupcakes. You opened the fridge to grab the pitcher of sweet tea. “Did you make sure to add extra lemons? He really likes extra lemons-“ 
“Yes, I did, I know,” Lana responded, “Don’t be so worried, it’s just Rafe.” 
You set the pitcher on the counter, taking a deep breath, “He wants to hear me read my book, Lana.”
“So? You’ve been doing so well in our lessons! You sound great to me when you’re reading and you’re only going to get better. The long, fancy words will come later,” She lifted the tray of sandwiches and desserts and you took it into your hands, “You’re a smart girl.” 
“I am?” Lana smiled warmly, making sure you were carefully holding both the pitcher and tray. 
“Yes, you are,” She assured you, “Go enjoy your lunch. Afterward, you’ll help me with the laundry, right?”
You beamed back at her, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” 
When you made your way back to the front lawn, Rafe was where you left him but his phone was pressed to his ear. As soon as he saw you, he said, “---Everyone has dirt. Everyone has a weakness. Find it. I gotta go, I really don’t want to hear about this shit again.”  You carefully set down the tray and pitcher, Rafe having intense conversations over the phone having become very natural to you. 
Rafe let out an annoyed breath, setting his phone down, “Doesn’t it look delicious, Daddy?” You asked, cutting through the tension. 
Rafe nodded, “It does. This is the highlight of my day,” He admitted, “You’re the highlight of my day, Bambi.” 
Your nervousness slowly turned into eagerness as Rafe looked at you. He always looked at you like you were something precious, even if you felt the opposite, and you found that you could easily be yourself around him. Although it seemed you were figuring out who you were every day that you were at Tannyhill. 
You poured Rafe’s drink into an antique-looking glass, one that Lana had entrusted you with taking care of, “Made just how you like it,” You handed it to him and promptly began to hand out the rest of the dishware, making sure Bunny and your stuffed animals had tiny replicas of them. With small tongs, you carefully placed sandwiches on your and Rafe’s plates, “I like pickles now. They aren’t so bad.”
“Oh, thank God,” Rafe responded with his mouth full, already halfway through his first sandwich, “I was really worried there for a second.”
You giggled, “You were worried?”
“I was as soon as you tried one and said you didn’t like it,” Rafe said, which made you laugh more, “This just confirms you’re perfect. And open-minded. And beautiful.”
“Me liking pickles means that I’m beautiful.” You were trying to follow his logic, your cheeks heated in embarrassment, but he interrupted you with a messy kiss.
As you finished up lunch, you found yourself entangled with Rafe, your legs over his lap and leaning against his chest as you opened up your book. You hoped starting with chapter one would make it easier, knowing you’d read it at least five times this morning. Luckily, you now had someone who could tell you the meaning of the words you had the most trouble with. Rafe used the strategy of not only defining the word but using it in an example sentence. 
“Ill-u-min-ate.”
“Every time you walk into a room, you illuminate it with your beauty.” 
“Haz-ar-dous.”
“It would be very hazardous to get between me and my Bambi.”
“Fuh-ruh-strat-ed.”
“Seeing you naked gets me extremely frustrated.”
“I thought you said it meant to angry,” You countered, and you could feel him grinning. 
“Words can mean different things,” He spoke cryptically, “Hey, you know, I’m really impressed with your reading, Bambi.”
You straightened up and turned to look at him, “You mean it?”
“I’m really proud of you,” he nodded. “I wasn’t sure if Lana could help you all on her own, but I think you’re making good progress.” 
You wrapped your arms around him, immediately needing to physically express your satisfaction, your weight effectively toppling the two of you over. Pride was a new feeling that you were getting used to. “Does this mean I could go to a real school? Like in the movies? Maybe law school? Like Elle Woods?” You straddled Rafe, his hands gently exploring the backs of your thighs.
“Are you talking about Legally Blonde?” Rafe’s eyebrows raised, his eyes undoubtedly flashing to a past memory, probably related to his sisters, “Did Lana show you that?”
“It was really good,” You nodded, “How far away is Stanford?”
“Far,” Rafe stated, and you got the feeling he wasn’t explaining as much as he could, “Let’s not  — uh, let’s focus on just reading a chapter book. Once you’re reading like Shakespeare and shit, we can talk about college.” 
“Okay,” You agreed, pressing your nose to his, “How many books do I have to read before we get a kitty cat, Daddy?”
“I see what you did there,” Rafe stared you down. You gave him a mischievous look as you pressed your lower half closer to his. “I think Daddy’s going to need a lot of convincing on that idea as well.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt Rafe’s fingers trailing over your panties, “What can I do to convince you, Rafey?”
You saw the lust in his eyes. That was one nickname he seemed to like even more than Daddy. “Slide those panties to the side and take Daddy’s cock out.”
“But the guards–” You rushed out, and Rafe’s grip tightened on your thighs. 
“You didn’t seem to mind when you climbed on top of me,” Rafe countered, “C’mon, you have to finish what you started, little girl.”
After those words, you tried to ignore the idea of one of Rafe’s men catching a glimpse of what the two of you were doing. You did as Rafe said but as timidly and covertly as possible, sliding your panties to the side and then undoing his zipper. Like Rafe had taught you before, you spit into your hand, rubbing the liquid against your hole and using the rest to lubricate his tip. 
You looked Rafe in the eyes before he could command you to, and Rafe gave you the same proud look that he had on his face when he complimented your reading skills. Rafe sat up on his hands, and as you placed him against your entrance, you made sure the skirt of your gingham dress was fully covering your ass. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you slowly enveloped every inch of him. 
You whimpered into his ear, already feeling overwhelmed. Your thighs burned as you tried to move up and down his length, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were doing it wrong. You and Rafe didn’t often have sex in this position, and if you did, Rafe would just end up pinning your hips in place and thrusting up into you. In this position, you were almost in complete control, and it made each sensation feel even more heightened. 
“Grind into me,” Rafe spoke huskily, “It’ll feel better that way.”
You started to roll your hips against him, and instantly you felt something building within you. With that motion, you could feel your clit rubbing against him. As you controlled the speed and how deep he was inside of you, you adjusted it entirely to your liking, and it surprised you how good you made yourself feel, “You gonna make yourself cum on my cock, Bambi?”
You gave him a shaky nod, “Y-Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Cum for me.”
You whimpered into his ear, suddenly burning up even though you were directly under the sun. “Thank you, thank you,” you muttered breathlessly. “Thank you, Rafey.”
“Look at you,” Rafe said, “My grateful little girl is squeezing me so good. Keep going, baby.”
Rafe squeezed you tightly in his arms like he was hugging you as you felt him fill your insides. “Fuck,” Rafe grunted in your ear, “Didn’t know you were so good at that.”
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Rafe was doing something he promised himself he’d never do. 
Maybe this would’ve been an option at the beginning of their relationship when he wasn’t so attached. The idea of doing this now … every fiber of his being was telling him that this was wrong. “Everybody has a weakness. You told me that, right? I did some digging. Some super fucking deep digging,” Barry had started. 
Atlantic Crest Properties is one of Cameron Development’s biggest rivals both on the island and the mainland. Nathaniel Sterling, the CEO, was one of Ward’s closest friends, but since his death, Rafe had struggled to maintain Nathan’s favor. In fact, he disliked Rafe so much that he was purposely starting to poach Cameron Development’s construction laborers and spreading misinformation about the company’s financial status. 
Rafe had worked hard to dig the company out of debt, and Sterling was preventing future investors from giving the company a chance, “There’s this high-end bar on the mainland that he always visits, placed called the Platinum Parlor. This guy is there every weekend, at least. One of my boys tells me that the place is basically a front for a swingers club. They won’t let you in unless you’re a member, and there’s like secret codes you use to, you know, get access to what you’re looking for.”
“Get to the point, please.”
“Basically, he’s a freak. He always asks for a girl named Venus. My boy was telling me this, and I realized I knew that girl; she used to buy from me. I rode over there looking for her before her shift started, and I offered her some powder for some information. She couldn’t tell me everything, but he’s shown her videos of him doing some stuff, and he always asks that she wear pigtails, a plaid skirt, glasses, the whole school-girl look …” Rafe listened as Barry delved further into all the debauchery he’d heard. 
“...what are you implying, Barry?”
“I’m trying to say you have the perfect tool to solve yo’ problem. This is the only thing the dude gets off on, and I know his wife ain’t home dressing up for him. You have the most innocent girl in the world, and she actually likes wearing her hair in pigtails.”
“I know you’re not telling me I should let him fuck her–”
“No, no, Rafe! I’m saying that you can let him think that he can for as long as you need him to. That’s your in.”
“Fuck, I don’t wanna do that.”
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve ever done, country club.”
Barry was right about that. 
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You liked the way the Kooks dressed, and they all seemed to exude happiness. They matched and coordinated every piece of their outfits, and even the ones playing sports had at least one piece of expensive-looking jewelry on. 
Rafe’s black polo and khaki shorts were nicely pressed, and he looked every bit like a seasoned golfer. He also gripped the golf cart’s wheel in one hand, carefully and quickly navigating the expansive green course. 
After you made your first stop, Rafe started by showing you the basics of acting as his caddy. He pointed at the clubs he would most likely be using and made you practice grabbing them. He also placed you in charge of keeping up the scorecard, slowly explaining all the numbers you were meant to help keep track of. You quickly learned this was a more complicated game than you imagined, and you weren’t sure how much fun it would actually be to play it.
Still, you were overjoyed that Rafe had even invited you out of the house to the country club, of all places. You spent a total of two hours deciding what to wear that morning until Rafe ultimately made the decision for you, choosing a short-sleeve, collared white dress. He also helped you tame your hair into two high ponytails wrapped in pink bows. As soon as you saw how cute you looked, you made sure to ask Rafe if they made golf dresses in Bunny’s size. 
You watched intently as Rafe stepped up to the first tee, positioning his feet and adjusting his grip on the club with practiced ease. With a smooth swing, he sent the ball soaring through the air, landing neatly on the fairway with a satisfying thud.
“Wow,” Your mouth hung open as you watched, “That was amazing, Rafey!”
“You wanna try it?” 
Hands behind your back, you nervously stepped closer, “Relax,” Rafe said, “I’m gonna help you.”
The actual golf club was much heavier than you were expecting and probably too tall for you, but Rafe adjusted your position accordingly. You felt him pressed against your back, his strong arms enveloping your frame and his hands wrapped around yours. “You’re always going to start with a tight grip, and then it’s all about your stance.” Rafe placed his leg between yours, kicking your feet apart until they were about shoulder-lengths apart, “Bend your knees for me, sweet girl.” 
“This feels … hazardous,” You tried and you felt Rafe’s chest vibrate as he chuckled. 
He stepped back from you, “Try bizarre,” You nodded, mouthing the word quietly, but kept your stance, “But you look great. Now, for the backswing. When you swing, you’re going to keep your arms straight and shoulders relaxed, and I want you to turn your upper half until the club is all the way back.”
You tried to follow his list of instructions, but Rafe ended up grabbing ahold of you again to demonstrate the motion, “You’re going to let the club flow naturally through the ball,” He guided you until you were ready to entirely give it a go, “You got this, Bambi.”
You obeyed Rafe’s final instruction and were surprised that you actually hit the ball, although it landed about five feet in front of you. “Look!” you jumped from excitement. 
“You did it,” Rafe grinned, “Wanna try again?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but your voice trailed off as another golf cart approached. Instinctively, you closed the gap between you and Rafe. 
“Mr. Cameron!” An older gray-haired man, maybe in his 50s, approached, grin hidden partially by a thick mustache, “So lovely of you to grace this fine club with your presence after so many years.”
His deep and commanding voice soon matched his stature as he climbed out of the cart. A shorter, younger man was riding in the passenger side. A gold name tag was pinned to the left side of his chest. “Mr. Sterling,” Rafe greeted back, and you looked up to see a tight, slightly painful grin on his lips. “From what I’ve heard, you frequent this place a little too much. Do they have a reserved parking spot for you yet?”
Mr. Sterling let out a pinched laugh.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” 
It was then that the tall man made deep, soul-searching eye contact with you, “Bambi, this is Nathaniel Sterling. He owns Atlantic Crest Properties, which operates here on the island. Nathaniel, this is my girlfriend, Bambi.”
Nathaniel reached out a hand, and you officially felt you’d been thrown into the spotlight. You hadn’t interacted with anyone outside of Tannyhill or your ballet class. Rafe nodded slightly, signaling that it was okay to accept his hand. The man’s grip was strong and calloused.
“It’s nice to meet you, Bambi,” He greeted you. 
“Hi,” You spoke softly, “You do work like Rafe does?”
“Oh, yes, and much better, sweetheart,” You smiled, believing he was trying to make a joke, “I saw your swing on the way up. With some more practice, I can see you becoming a pretty good player.”
“Really?” Your eyes widened. 
“Rafe’s gonna have to get you your own set of clubs,” Nathaniel smirked. “Or maybe you can have my daughter’s since she only uses them sparingly anymore.”
“That would be–” The words came out faster than you could stop them, “That’s a really kind offer, Mr. Sterling.” 
You looked up at Rafe, excited by the offer, “I’m sure I can afford a new set,” Rafe stated. 
“Anyways,” Mr. Sterling coughed to clear the tension, “If the two of you aren’t too exhausted after your game, you should join me at the Steakhouse for an early dinner. Why waste the opportunity for us to catch up.”
You got a similar feeling to when you were around Barry and Rafe, like the two of them were having a conversation with their eyes. Mr. Sterling seemed intimidating, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to see more of this place. 
“Sound good,” Rafe agreed, which you were grateful for, “We’ll see you there.”
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After playing a few more holes and Rafe finishing your crash course on golf, he started showing you around. There were two Olympic-sized pools, a spa, daycare, and gym, and they even offered horse rides along the beach on special occasions. The two of you explored a women’s boutique—well, you explored it while Rafe had a conversation over the phone with Barry. You noticed Mr. Sterling’s name come up a few times but became distracted when you saw the perfect dress. 
Although you thought Rafe might say it was too fancy for dinner, Rafe immediately called the attendant over so you could try it on. It was princess style, with short sleeves tied with cream-colored ribbons and a skirt flowing out in three tiers. The attendant helped you into the corset, and you were practically locked in by the time you showed Rafe. 
He was already leaning against the payment counter, black card in hand. “We’ll take it; she’s going to wear it out,” he said as you twirled around. “You want anything else?”
“No,” You spoke breathlessly. “This is perfect. Thank you, Rafe!”
Rafe entwined his fingers with yours and held your hand throughout the entire walk to the restaurant. You found Mr. Sterling waiting for you at a table in the corner of the restaurant, with large windows on either side of him that looked out onto the beach. As he waved you over, Rafe leaned down to whisper to you, “You don’t have to say anything or answer any question you don't want to.” 
“Okay,” You said softly, knowing he was just looking out for you. 
“Rafe, Bambi,” He said as the two of you approached. You took the seat closest to the window after Rafe pulled it open for you, “How was the rest of your game?”
Despite the words he just told you, Rafe looked at you first as if he wanted you to answer, “It was really good,” You replied, trying to maintain a certain level of confidence, “I learned a lot and, uhm, the weather was just really perfect today.”
“I agree, it’s a beautiful day, and let me also say how beautiful you look in your dress, Bambi,” You had to glance away, a reflexive gesture to hide the embarrassed gesture that reached your face. You smiled despite the fact that your face was trembling, “It’s new?”
“Y-Yes, thank you. That’s—" You remembered the menu sitting on the table in front of you, and then you realized you were far too nervous at that moment to try to read it. “Do they have ice cream here?” you blurted out. 
Rafe’s lips parted, but Nathaniel interrupted, “I think you’ll be quite happy with the dessert selection. Order whatever you like,” You felt Rafe’s hands suddenly on your thigh. He was trying to hide how tense was, but it wasn’t working. 
When the waiter approached, Rafe ordered for you, which you were grateful for: chicken fingers, mac and cheese, and apple juice. He then went ahead and ordered you a dessert called strawberry crunch ice cream cake. 
Rafe and Nathaniel bantered for a while about business and things related to Kildare that you didn’t fully understand. For the most part, you focused on enjoying your food and addressing Nathaniel whenever he addressed you. Some of your nervousness washed away because the man seemed to smile and laugh in reaction to every word that you said as if you were the most amusing thing in the world. 
Halfway through the dinner, you leaned over to whisper in Rafe’s ear. 
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“I need to go potty.”
Rafe nodded before pointing across the restaurant where he knew the bathroom was, “It’s over there. Go straight there and come back, please,” Rafe felt you squeeze his hand before you got up from your seat. 
Usually, he’d love to watch you walk away, but his eyes were entirely fixed on Nathaniel, who was watching you intently. 
“She’s quite … cute,” the man said sincerely, as if he were thinking deeply. “She’s so pure … hard to believe she was a whore when you found her.”
Rafe squinted, nodding his head, “She was never a whore, Nathaniel.”
“She knows how to fuck, doesn’t she?” 
“She comes from unfortunate circumstances, yes, but I’d appreciate it – greatly – if you didn’t call her that,” Rafe tone was sharp as he leaned closer, elbows on the table, “I really want to work something out with you, Nathaniel, but you’re not going to treat me like I’m just Ward’s son. I want something from you, and you want something from me. I’ll respect you if you treat me the same.”
“You’ve grown attached,” Nathaniel seemed to brush off Rafe’s intensity, “I apologize. Really, I’ve spent a short time with her, and I’m already quite enamored. I admire you, Rafe. You’ve trained her quite nicely.”
“She’s a good girl,” Rafe tried to set his emotions aside, and the feelings he had about you that seemed to make him go crazy. He needed to be cold. He needed to be the Rafe who’s able to pull a trigger and not feel any remorse, “She’s under tight lock and key. She’s under my watch, and I know exactly where she is 24/7.”
“Cameras?” Nathaniel’s interest peaked. 
“In her playroom,” Rafe shrugged.
“Huh,” The man’s jaw clicked, “I want pictures and videos, at the very least.”
This is what Rafe wanted but he couldn’t help but feel pause. The man in front of him was desperate. He could own Nathaniel with the knowledge he was giving up and the secrets that you could probably draw from in. It was dangerous involving you, but what Barry said was true, you were going to open doors for him. 
“At the very least?”
“Yeah, everything after that we can negotiate.”
Rafe could only think for a minute because you were happily skipping back towards the table. Your hands were cradled together, open towards him and holding peppermints, “Look, Rafe, they had a whole bowl of free mints in the bathroom,” You chirped, “I’m going to save some of these for Lana if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, baby, that’s fine.” Rafe smiled at you. “I was just telling Nathaniel about the amazing tea parties you like to throw.”
As you plopped down in your seat, your princess-style dress puffing up and then deflating like a balloon, your eyes widened. “It’s really fun!” you added. “Next time, I want to paint tea-cup handles. You should come, Mr. Sterling. Is that okay?”
The two men exchanged glances before Nathaniel narrowed his eyes back on you, running a hand over his face to smooth down his mustache, “That sounds delightful, sweetheart.”
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joelsgreys · 3 months
Text
softness
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.
word count: 3.5k
a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.
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She’d made her entrance into the world early.
About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.
Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.
And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.
For several months, all you could do was hope.
Hope for a smooth pregnancy.
Hope for a safe labor and delivery.
Hope for a strong, healthy baby.
When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.
“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”
Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”
He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.
On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.
Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.
“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”
“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”
For a split second, that panic had ceased.
“She?”
Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”
“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”
“I did?”
“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”
Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.
“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”
He truly, honestly hadn’t.
It’d slipped before he could even think about it.
But his accidental slip had been right.
After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.
“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”
“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.
Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.
“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”
Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.
“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”
Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.
“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”
You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.
“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”
He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born. 
“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”
“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.
Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”
Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.
“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”
Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.
“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.
Dr. Porter walks into the room.
She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.
“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”
Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.
Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”
“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”
“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”
“How’s she sleeping?”
“Like a rock.”
“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”
You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”
“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”
Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”
“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”
After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.
Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.
“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”
“No.”
Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.
Your face falls. “Why not?”
“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”
“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”
“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”
“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”
“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”
“Take off your shirt.”
His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.
“What?”
“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”
The blood drains from his face and he pales. 
It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.
He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.
Still.
The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.
Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.
The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.
The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.
The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.
Joel?
He isn’t soft.
Nothing about him is soft.
Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.
“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”
Joel swallows harshly.
“What is it?”
“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”
Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it’s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”
His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.
Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.
The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.
And when it does, it breaks down.
“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”
Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”
You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.
The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.
It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.
He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate. 
And Rosemary stops crying.
She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.
Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”
“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”
Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.
“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.
“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”
Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you really believe it?”
Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”
“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”
“Of course I do.”
“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”
Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”
Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.
Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.
Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”
“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”
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lxkeee · 2 months
Text
TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
-PART FIVE
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: Angst (for now)
Warnings: Depression and mentions of self h*rm.
Notes: Heads-up, this chapter is filled with the Caeles Family trauma/lore lmao.
PART ONE | PART FOUR | PART SIX | NAVIGATION
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Two angelic beings—currently in their human forms, sat across each other outside their garden, early morning sunlight streaming past the leaves of the large wisteria, they sat underneath the tree, a tea table in the middle with of course, a steaming and freshly brewed lavender tea and a platter of tea sandwiches to go with. The smell of roses and lavender is present around the garden as the sun rises through the horizon, calm and gentle cool breeze caressing their skins as they enjoy this peace and quiet. They are in the mortal realm at the moment, they didn't want heaven's ears to listen.
Xavier can be seen talking animatedly to his mother, his eyebrows furrowed as he did so, his hands moving around comically as he explained something to the older woman. [Y/n] sighs and nodded, bringing back the teacup into the table.
“So you're saying that Sera approved of this cleansing without the other's knowledge?” [y/n] asked with a small hum, bringing the teacup to her lips once more, pinky extended, she sipped her tea slowly before bringing the teacup back down to the table, making sure to use her pinky as a cushion to avoid making unnecessary noise.
She was awestruck, in disbelief by the information Xavier told her. Unacceptable. Sera's decision mocks the heavenly hierarchy, who is she to play God? Sure, God left her in charge as the higher being is off to who knows where but the reason God chose Sera is because the Seven Virtues were busy with work in the mortal realm. To think she made a major decision such as this without consulting the Seven virtues is unacceptable.
[Y/n] was bubbling in fury inside, as the angel of kindness, she can't imagine what the sinners are going through with the cleansing. Sera's decision is truly unacceptable. It felt like Sera didn't respect the status of the seven virtues and that is something she cannot allow. She worked so hard to be here, to where she is now. After Lucifer messed up and left an empty spot with the seven, she worked herself to the bone to fill that spot and is now one of the strongest and Sera couldn't even consult one single virtue to this decision. Blasphemy.
Xavier looked worried as he could tell that his mother is beyond pissed despite the gentle and calm look on her face, but he knows her. He could tell just by how tense her shoulders are, how deep the exhale she let out or the way her left eye twitched.
“I am glad you told me, I'll request a meeting with the others soon but I doubt it'll happen immediately as everyone is busy here on earth.” [y/n] sighs, picking up a small tuna sandwich and taking a bite of it. Xavier nodded as he took a sip of his own tea, nodding at her.
“I couldn't let Sera get away with this, after all.” He answered, looking away from his mother and to gaze at the garden. [Y/n] chuckles, her eyes darkened a bit as she follows where Xavier is looking—at the mini pond of the garden, two ducks and two swans swimming around. Surprisingly, a duck and swan were playing with each other. It brought a smile to [y/n]'s face, remembering the times she and Lucifer would play together in the skies, laughing and giggling. Times were easy and peaceful before. Oh how she wished she could turn back time.
Xavier's eyes narrowed slightly as he watches the two birds swimming around. A sigh escaping his lips before turning back to look at his mother once more.
“What do you want me to do for the time being?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, [y/n] smiled as she looked at her son, he grew up so fast. Proud of how far he came in life, though, she still felt a little guilt and sadness within her as she remembers how she neglected him during his toddler years, she was far too depressed that just one look at her son she would spiral into depression as Xavier bears so much resemblance to Lucifer. Her negligence to Xavier caused the boy to hate his looks so much to the point he tried to carve out his face with his weapon, thankfully Azrael was there to stop him and it served as a wake up call to her and realized how her actions affected Xavier so much. It took awhile and lots of therapy for her to finally face her son without having a mental breakdown and she apologized to the boy over and over again for the horrible things she had done and it took some serious therapy for Xavier too to accept his face—though, he hasn't fully accepted it but it isn't as worse as before.
[Y/n] sighs softly, shaking away the depressing memories. She's healing now and finally getting better, she doesn't need to look back at the negative memories. She smiled at Xavier, a look of adoration in her eyes, proud of her son for all the things he did for her. Her pride and joy.
Placing her hands on her lap, she gave him a small nod, “Just continue doing your duties, I'll take care of the rest, hmm?” she suggested with a smile and Xavier nodded, “Alright, I'll leave you to deal with it mother.” he says and [y/n] hummed in agreement.
[Y/n] took out her phone, typing something. Her fingers danced across the screen as she pressed the letters.
You: @everyone, when will you guys be available for a meeting? Seen by Michael, Azrael, Gabriel, Uriel
Michael: I won't be available for a couple days, I am unsure about the others. Why? Did something happen? Seen by [Y/n], Azrael, Gabriel, Camuel
Azrael: Did someone mess up? lmao Seen by Michael, [Y/n], Gabriel, Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel
Camuel: It's rare for you to actually summon us for once @Y/n Seen by Michael, Azrael, Gabriel, Camuel, Jophiel, [Y/n]
You: I am requesting for a meeting as a certain Seraphim left in charge is currently playing God. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel, Azrael
Gabriel: What the fuck? Seen by Michael, [Y/n], Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel, Azrael
Azrael: Hey, watch your fucking language ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ Seen by Michael, Gabriel, [Y/n], Camuel, Uriel, Jophiel
Uriel: Well... That is certainly news.. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, [Y/n], Jophiel, Azrael
Jophiel: Indeed. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, Camuel, [Y/n], Uriel, Azrael
Michael: We'll have a meeting in a week, all of us are far too busy at the moment. Thank you for telling us, [n/n]. Seen by Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Jophiel, Azrael
Michael: Is the schedule fine with you guys? @everyone Seen by Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Jophiel, Azrael
Jophiel: The schedule is fine, I guess I'll meet you guys soon. Seen by Michael, Gabriel, [Y/n], Uriel, Camuel, Azrael and everyone heart reacted to his message
[Y/n] turns off her phone and slips it back to her pocket, Xavier looks at her with a raised eyebrow, “So...?”
[Y/n] chuckles a bit, “I already told them and we'll have a meeting in a week or so. We'll handle it, don't worry.” she says, sipping her tea. “I am sure Michael will do something about it.”
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“That meeting certainly didn't go well for me.” [y/n] muttered in annoyance as she left the office of the Seven. They just finished holding the meeting and Michael thought it was a good idea to make her take care of it, Azrael offered to help her but he has his own plate of responsibilities to finish, he is the angel of death after all. “Why did I have to lose the rock-paper-scissors?!” she whined to herself, pouting slightly.
She looked down upon her hands to see it shaking and pale, she's scared of going down there, she's afraid of what'll happen to her if she ever sees Lucifer again.
Contrary to popular beliefs, [y/n] doesn't consider Lucifer her ex-husband, no divorce ever happened and even after all the pain she went through, she remained loyal and always acted upon her vows to him even if he wasn't here in heaven with her.
Her eyes landed on the gold metal band around her ring finger, the very ring that Lucifer slipped into her hand when they got married. She didn't have the power or the courage to remove it.
She won't remove it unless Lucifer actually tells her to, unless Lucifer says it to her face that he no longer loves her or needs her.
She'll let him go willingly once he tells her all those things. But for now, she'll hold on. No matter how bruised and wounded her hands are, she'll hold on. She hopes that they will be a complete family one day, heck, even Charlotte can join. She'll treat the girl like her own daughter. She just wants her family complete, is that too much to ask for?
She dreams to give her son the father he deserves, Xavier didn't say it but as his mother she can tell how envious the boy is when he looks at other families. The longing look in his eyes, he's jealous that Charlie had the father—the very same father that left him for another family.
Her steps faltered as she finally arrived at her own office, opening the door and quickly got inside and locking it. Her back pressed against the door, her body getting heavier as she slid down to the floor.
Looking up at the ceiling, the ceiling of her office, the chandelier with apple and duck crystals hanging from it—she commissioned it in memory of Lucifer.
“Some people long for a life that is simple and planned”
She softly sang, standing up from the floor, her eyes softening as she gazed outside the window of her office.
“Tied with a ribbon
Some people won't sail the sea 'cause they're safer on land
To follow what's written”
She sang softly, her feet gracefully bringing her across the room, reaching to her desk. Her hand opened the cabinet of her desk, grabbing a small black box. Opening it to see a gold necklace with a pink crystal heart pendant. Sighing before closing the box once more and returning it back to the drawer.
“But I'd follow you to the great unknown
Off to a world we call our own”
She says softly, her eyes downcast as her voice became significantly lower. [Y/n] remembers Lucifer giving her the necklace for their first anniversary.
“Hand in my hand
And we promised to never let go”
A tear streamed down her cheek, remembering the promises they've made for each other. The room was tinted pink from the rays of the setting sun, shadows casting into her dull office.
“We're walking a tightrope
High in the sky
We can see the whole world down below”
The memories of them flying together in the skies, laughing and joking with each other.
“We're walking a tightrope
Never sure, never know how far we could fall”
Lucifer catching her when her wings gave out.
“But it's all an adventure
That comes with a breathtaking view
Walking a tightrope
With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
With you”
Despite fearing for her life, she trusted him to catch her always when she falls.
[Y/n] sighs softly, her steps light as a feather, graceful as she dances as if Lucifer is there with her. Slow dancing in her office like he's with her.
“Mountains and valleys, and all that will come in between
Desert and ocean”
They promised to never let go of each other regardless of what comes in-between them.
“You pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream
Always in motion”
She listened to all of his hopes and dreams of the future, future of the world and his future with her.
“So I risk it all just to be with you
And I risk it all for this life we choose”
She knew what she was getting into when she dated him, he was the most beautiful angel of all of creation. Many wanted him but she trusted him to only want her.
“Hand in my hand
And you promised to never let go
We're walking a tightrope
High in the sky
We can see the whole world down below”
With a flex of her wrists, golden dusts of her power came of her hands, forming a faux Lucifer. She still remembers what he looked like. The Lucifer made of golden dust smiled at her, holding her body close as they waltzed across the room.
“We're walking a tightrope
Never sure, will you catch me if I should fall?”
[Y/n] was crying softly, Lucifer wipes away her tears with his thumb, leaving specks of golden dust in her cheeks. Lucifer twirls her and dips her, effortlessly catching her. He pulls her up to allow her to stand.
With a sad smile, [y/n] waves her hand and the Lucifer made of golden dust gently disappears like a dust in the wind. [Y/n] extending her hand, as if to stop the love of her life from disappearing once more. Even if it was just something she conjured up with her powers.
“Well, it's all an adventure
That comes with a breathtaking view
Walking a tightrope
With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
With you
With you, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
With you, ooh, ooh, ooh
With you.”
[Y/n] grabbed her handkerchief from her pocket, dabbing the fabric onto her eyes. No matter how much she tries to dry her eyes, tears never seem to stop falling.
“After all these years, I am still a mess without you.” she whispers, eyes gazing outside the window of her office, the sunlight shining down on her like the universe is listening to her anguish. She grips the fabric of her dress, on where her heart is beating and aching.
“What happened to death do us apart? Why did you leave me Lucifer? WAS I NOT ENOUGH?!” She asked, screaming in anguish and as always, no answer to her questions.
“I need you, Lucifer... I still do...” she whispers, defeated as she dragged her emotionally heavy body to her office chair, slumping down with a loud and choked out sob.
With shaky breaths and trembling hands. She calms herself down, calming herself down. She still has work to do.
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TAGLIST I:
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sweet-as-an-angel · 10 months
Text
Miguel Having A Crush On You Would Include…
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Warnings: Implications of Smut, Obsessive Miguel, Possessive Miguel, Implied Yandere Miguel, Miguel in Love, Vampire Marking, Marking (Kind Of), Fluff, Typical Crush Behaviour, Petnames/Nicknames, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.
Him being absolutely OBSESSED with you.
Literally completely feral, down bad, infatuated, etc.
Initially, when he realised he’d started liking you in a romantic sense, he tried pushing you away; tried drowning his feelings in work, missions, Hell – even resolving petty spats between the Spiderpeople at the base. Anything to exorcise this rising feeling of butterflies in his chest whenever you were around. Vulnerability.
However, you were persistent.
You’d bring him lunch whenever you knew it would be a long day in the office for him, telling him that “Even the best superhero needs a sandwich every now and then!”
And by God were your sandwiches phenomenal.
Though he’d never admit it, his heart would skip a beat whenever the door to his office opened, knowing that it could be you paying him a visit with your delectable lunchables, or even just to check in on him. Make him feel special in ways nobody else had or could in years.
Eventually, this turned into a daily affair; one Miguel would watch the clock for, wait for. Long for.
Miguel also tried hiding his feelings when you brought him hand-crafted, love-filled desserts that he just couldn’t bring himself to ignore or throw away. Or, when Miles offered to take them off his hands, let anyone else have.
Eventually, there isn’t a day that goes by where you aren’t with him in some capacity. And it shows.
Whenever you’re late, even only by a few minutes, Miguel can feel his heart spike, asking Lyla where you are, if she can track you, etc.
“Sounds like you liiiike (Y/N)~” Lyla gives Miguel a knowing smile.
Miguel just grunts, ignores her. Though, he can feel the corners of his lips turning up, and hides them behind a well-placed hand, rubbing his temples.
Soft glances whenever you’re in the room, all his attention turning to you and you alone.
He just loves to stare at you. You’re so beautiful that he can’t understand why nobody else passing you has to stitch their dropped jaw back onto their face.
Then again, he is grateful. The fury that bubbles inside him whenever he catches someone glancing at you, gaze lustful, is all-consuming, enough to make his teeth grind, his eyes bleed a light rouge hue, piercing. He makes sure they’ll never cross paths with you again.
Gradually, your warmth and kindness thaws his walls, and, once the floodgates are open, neither you nor he can predict the dark ocean that is to flood your lives.
He doesn’t mean to throw himself full-force into his feelings, but after being so guarded for so long, he just can’t help it.
Becomes overly-concerned with every facet of your life. More so than he already was.
Constantly trying to find out information about you, though being stumped as to how to do so without arousing your suspicion.
Asks Lyla to track you, see what you’re doing, who you’re with, their relation to you.
However, she begins to deny Miguel such luxuries, telling him to “Grow a pair and ask (Y/N) yourself!”
When he realises Lyla is steadfast in her resolve, he does so. Reluctantly.
Though, once he starts, he finds it difficult to stop.
“Where are you going after work?”, “Are you going out tonight with anyone?”, “Who?”
Eventually, you just look up at him, seemingly oblivious to his growing desperation, and say: “Gosh, Miguel, you’re starting to sound like you’re my boyfriend or something!”
His heart stops. His throat dries and he just looks at you, eyes wide.
One second passes. Then two. Then–
“Oh– uh– yeah... I mean, not that that’s weird, right? Unless you think it is weird, then–”
Lyla has to step in and save him from himself, telling him he has ‘urgent business’ in one of the other wings of the facility.
His suit suddenly feels too tight and too hot beneath the collar whenever he has to speak with you alone.
And tight in…other places when his mind wanders to the more intimate aspects of your hypothetical relationship.
Miguel likes to rationalise this as him preparing how best to please you when the time, inevitably, comes for him to claim you, make you his. At least, this staves off the post-nut clarity (guilt) just a little longer when he’s pursuing a release, blasphemous images of you running through his mind.
A good example of this occurs almost nightly, with Miguel thoroughly loving a pillow clad in a shirt he’d lent you once, your scent still woven, though faded, into the fabric.
Many nights, his face is pressed to the cotton of that shirt, muffling his lips and his moans as his teeth sink into your temporary body, extending, marking, hand moving fervently beneath the bed sheets, your name the chant of many a spell of ardour.
You might mistake that red glow on his cheeks for the illumination of the console screens, but anyone who looks close enough knows better.
He loves showing you around the facility. Especially when your eyes light up and you remark how intelligent he is for “Doing this all on your own,”
Any compliment from you makes his heart thrum and his cheeks burn with the urge to smile. And, if it’s only you in his company, he does so.
Maybe even give you a nervous laugh.
You’re the only one he feels comfortable with showing emotion to.
He hopes that his displays aren’t lost on you; that you know him well enough to know that every smile, every laugh, is for you and you only.
And he is determined to, one day, make that smile of yours for him. And only him.
But, for now, he will content himself with daydreams and night ventures into territory not yet known, all the while possessing a seat beside you, being a shoulder for you to cry on, an ear into which you may pour your worries, a hero on whom you can always depend in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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Text
My Everyday
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Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate. 
Word count: 5.5k
Warnings: Minor injury, idiots in love <3, some angst, pining
a/n: My first fic in a century!! Thank you so much for reading if you’re still here. Depending on how this does I hope I’ll have motivation to write more! College athlete Bucky never fails to get me inspired :)
Masterlist
~~
“What’s this punks name again?” 
The breath you let out was long and excruciating. “I am not repeating myself.” 
“C’mon, y/n,” Bucky whined, knocking his head back on the couch. He watched you bustle around the kitchen from his inverted vantage point. “How the hell am I supposed to swoop in and save the day if I don’t even know the kid’s name?” 
“Okay, well, first of all—” the fridge door clicked shut with a swift motion of your hips “—he’s not a ‘kid’. I’m pretty sure he’s a few months older than you.” 
“Semantics.” 
“And second of all,” you stressed, pointing a butter knife in his direction. “There will be no ‘swooping in’. I’m going to have a nice date and you are going to go hang out with your puck rabbits or whatever they're called. There will be no thinking about me and no swooping in my vicinity.” 
Bucky rolled his eyes, kicking up from the couch and rounding the kitchen counter to pick at your sandwich. You knocked his hand away several times, but you both knew it was futile. In the months you’d been living with the hockey player—who was far too big for the small, shoebox of an apartment you leased—you’d learned that food was non-negotiable for Bucky Barnes. 
There were many other things you’d learned about him as well. He sang in the shower, but only when he thought you weren’t home. He had an annoying penchant for using your $30 lotion—again, when he thought you weren’t home. And he loved to throw his massive, smelly gear just about anywhere it would land right when he got home from every practice. 
He didn’t really care if you were home for that last one. 
Bucky was the last person you thought you would be rooming with when you posted that ad last summer. A small, quaint room previously occupied by your now engaged (and traitorous) best friend, you assumed someone like-minded to yourself would have taken you up on your offer. The price point wasn’t egregious and the building was relatively close to campus. 
But weeks ticked by, and you started getting desperate. Your landlord wasn’t a nice lady, something you were positive she took pride in, and she decided that a rent increase was the perfect way to ring in the new school year. You were on the verge of destitution, and as it so happened, the only other person as desperate as you was the starting center for your college’s hockey team. 
You hardly got along. It had taken weeks for your eye to stop twitching every time he tumbled through the front door at three in the morning, and even longer for you not to feel an infuriating aggravation at his random, nighttime smoothies. You supposed he probably felt the same about your cleanliness rules and your incessant reminders about trash days. Because Bucky was in charge of bringing the trash down those long, apartment steps. Not you. 
But you’d be lying if you said things hadn’t gotten easier as of late. Conversation flowed more smoothly, things that made you seethe before were only mildly annoying, and Bucky was being… considerate? You weren’t quite sure what to call the random cups of coffee he brought home on occasion. Or his sudden urge to warm up your car when he had a morning class before yours. 
There was also the case of that party last weekend. A frat party with far too many drunk men and not enough common sense, you had had the urge to leave the second you got there. But Wanda had dragged you along for the sole purpose of driving her home after she got hammered, so you were essentially stuck. 
It was fine at first. Hot and crowded and loud, but fine. You kept a general eye on Wanda and scrolled aimlessly on your phone in the armchair you claimed. And then it wasn’t fine, because a man twice your size was encroaching on your space and unrelenting. 
“What kinda girl comes to a party and doesn’t even wanna talk to anyone?” 
“You want to come up to my room and watch a movie or something?” 
“Hey, I’m talking to you, bitch.” 
You weren’t even aware that Bucky had been at that party. It wasn’t surprising—the line between fraternities and sports was blurred at your college—but the space he took up as he intercepted the man in front of you was.
~~
“There a problem here?” Bucky posed, crossing his arms over his chest, his presence looming above your seated position. His weight shifted to his toes.
The man didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, you. Move.” 
“Wanna fucking tell me what to do again?” 
“Fuck you, man.” 
A harsh shove to Bucky’s chest was all it took for a right hook to echo in the living room of the frat house. There was chaos. Grunts and screams from the drunk people surrounding the unnecessary fight created a cacophony of unpleasant sounds that seemed to get the attention of someone in charge. The man—Brian, you had now learned based on screams—was pulled back from Bucky and getting chewed out by some president or manager of something. 
And Bucky was seething, chest rising and falling laboriously as he wiped at the new bruise forming on his face.
Fights were not uncommon. But this one had been about you. For you.
“Bucky?” you asked when the crowd calmed and Brian was no longer in the room. 
You watched his back release its tight coil. He turned. “Are you okay?” 
The words were almost lost in the noise of the crowd, but he was close enough that they created a tactile vibration across your skin. His pupils were dilated and he looked so disheveled it would have been charming if there wasn’t also a cut forming on his brow. 
“Y/n.” 
It took you a moment to realize that you hadn’t answered him. Your response fell out of you as if you’d been shoved. “I’m—I’m fine.” 
He grunted, but it was more of a puff of air. “The fuck was that guy?” 
“I don’t know,” you replied, realizing by the way you swayed that you had stood up at some point. “He just—” 
“We’re going home.” 
“What? I can’t, I’m here with Wanda. I’m driving her, Bucky, I can’t just leave.” 
He grabbed your wrist, the grip achingly soft compared to the blows he was landing minutes before. “She left with that British guy she’s been on and off with. Asked me to tell you.” 
That explained his random appearance. Your brows pinched as you took in the information, eyes cast down to the angry red marks marring Bucky’s knuckles. He’d been in fights before. So many fights. On the ice. 
This was different. 
“I haven’t been drinking—I can drive myself home. You don’t have to leave,” you shouted over the music now bumping in the room. 
He didn’t respond, not verbally. He pulled you to his front instead, leading you through the impossible crowd until cool night air began melting into your skin. His silence was strange. Bucky’s favorite activity was talking your ear off until you told him to shut up, but right now… nothing. Even his earlier words had been clipped. 
You felt responsible for easing the tension in the air as Bucky continued to guide you to your car. You hadn’t told him where you parked, but he seemed to know the exact location anyways.
“You really don’t have to leave with me,” you mumbled. “It wasn’t a big deal or anything.” 
“It was a big deal.” 
~~
The drive home had been silent. The walk to the door had been as well. Bucky spent a few minutes appraising you in the overhead light of the living room when you got inside, but after that there was nothing. He went to his room and you went to yours. 
There was no discussion about it the morning after, either. Bucky apparently wanted to pretend nothing ever happened, so you respected that. Even now, you ignored the fading cuts on his hands as he shoveled food into his mouth.
Bucky’s next words were muffled by a mouthful of bread. “Well where’s this dude taking you at least?”
“Ice skating.”
The cough and sudden exasperation was very expected out of the man next to you, Bucky’s next words hardly containing syllables. “Huh?” 
“We’re going ice skating,” you reiterated. You picked up your lunch and headed for the living room, ignoring the slightly heaviness in your chest. “It’s winter and ice skating is festive. The rink on campus has decorations.” 
“Without me? Y/n, you’re gonna let some guy who probably doesn’t even know how to skate—” 
“Bucky—” you attempted to interrupt. 
“—drag you around the rink like a rag doll?” he continued, holding his hand up to mute your incoming speech. “I’ve asked you to come by the rink, like, a ton of times. You’ve never shown any interest.” 
You rolled your eyes and shot him a cross look as he picked your feet up from where they rested on the couch and dropped them into his lap. He went on with his rant for a little while longer, knocking his head back against cushions and accusing you of being a bad roommate. You had a few rebuttals of your own, but there was a reason you had never accompanied him to the rink. 
A good reason. 
You didn’t date athletes. 
It was true that simply going to visit Bucky at a practice, or letting him be the one to drag you around the ice like a rag doll, wouldn’t mean you were in a relationship by any means. But it would be an extra step. And if you were being honest with yourself, it would only take a few of those extra steps for the irritation you felt towards Bucky to melt into something else. 
And you didn’t date athletes. 
You did not. 
You didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to put up with the cheating, the anger issues, or the crazy schedules. And there wasn’t a single athlete you’d met at your sport-centered university that was willing to compromise on any of those subjects. Especially the cheating. You’d learned that the hard way after dating a lacrosse player for approximately one month before receiving the dreaded DM from a girl you had never met. 
The man hadn’t even given you the courtesy of pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about. He just admitted to his wrong-doing and shrugged. Shrugged. 
So athletes were not exactly in your good graces when it came to dating. 
“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky cut through your thoughts, patting your shin in impatience. 
You blinked and reoriented yourself, focusing on the hairs that fanned across Bucky’s face. “Of course I am,” you lied. “But my answer is still the same. I’m going on my date and you are not going on my date.” 
He groaned, apparently giving up as he cradled your legs closer to him to lean over and grab the remote from the coffee table. He flipped the channel to ESPN—typical—and you ate your sandwich, silently cursing him. He had a TV in his room. 
“When is it?” he suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had knitted itself into a comfortable blanket over the room. 
“Tonight,” you answered plainly. 
The arms atop your legs tensed. 
~~
The dichotomy of the man sitting beside you was impressive. On one hand, he was so full of himself that he had missed almost all of your conversation starters due to being so transfixed by his reflection in the rink’s glass. He had yet to ask you a single question about yourself and had insisted that the four other girls skating tonight were in love with him. 
On the other hand, he was, quite possibly, the most uninteresting person you had ever met. You were usually very quick to laugh, but every word out of his mouth was almost painful. He wouldn’t stop talking about his ex-girlfriend, gave you one word answers about anything other than baseball, and was honestly really terribly at ice skating. You were no pro either, but you found yourself on your back every time he tried holding your hand.
The tumble five minutes ago had you seeking out the penalty box on the side of the rink. You needed a break, you had told him, hoping he would continue on making a fool of himself and give you a moment alone. But he followed you instead, and was now sitting beside you, talking about baseball.
You supposed that was better than making you fall while talking about baseball.
“I bet we could do that,” he remarked, pointing out onto the ice and catching your attention. A couple who clearly had more experience than you was twirling each other around. “We definitely could. I pick up good speed.” You cringed. “I really don’t think we should try, Sean. My tailbone is already pretty bruised.” 
“Oh, c’mon! I won’t try the throwing part, just the twisty stuff.” 
“We are literally on rental skates. You will kill me,” you deadpanned. You were tired at this point and seriously questioning why you thought ice skating was a good first date idea. 
Well, there actually was an answer for that. But you were not going to think about the hockey player that popped into your head when Sean asked you on a date in the dining hall last week. 
Definitely not. 
“I’m not going to let my date think I’m boring,” Sean groaned, yanking you up from your seat. 
You gave a few tugs and words of resistance but they were ultimately useless. You figured it would be just as useless to tell the guy you already thought he was boring. He probably wouldn’t even hear you. 
On unsteady skates, Sean guided you to a mostly cleared corner of the rink and gripped your forearms. He squinted as he surveyed the area, the corner of his mouth turning up in a way that made your stomach roll. This entire date had been a bad idea.
“Maybe we should just watch them do it,” you tried, words wavering. 
“No!” he grinned. “No, we got this. It’s gonna look so cool.” 
And then you were spinning. You’d never been spun against your will before, but it sucked. Your skates kept getting stuck in the divots in the ice and the grip on your forearms was close to bruising. You were starting to get dizzy and Sean showed no signs of caring. God, he really was dragging you around the rink like a rag doll. Bucky was going to get a kick out of this.
“Okay, ready?” Sean called, an unwarranted jubilation in his tone. 
“What?” you yelled. 
He didn’t answer you. Instead, he let go, and you went flying in another direction without a clear path. It only lasted a moment, but the sound of your head smacking onto the ice signified the end of that movement. You landed on your arm next, and then your back. Again. 
This time felt different though. Your head was spinning and there were muted pinpricks trailing up to your wrist. The ache there was dulled compared to the biting iciness in your back, but as soon as you tried leaning on it to get up, it became sharp.
“Oh shit!” came Sean’s laughter-filled gasp. “My bad. I really didn’t mean to let go.” 
You blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from your vision but it proved unhelpful. “I think… I think my arm’s broken.” 
“Wait, seriously?” he asked, wobbling down to a seat beside you. 
“Yeah, it’s—”
“Everything okay over here?” a voice interrupted. You tried blinking again to take in the man that towered over the two of you, but the lights overhead washed him out. 
You recognized him…maybe? You felt like you were going to throw up. 
Sean answered for you. “Yeah, man, we’re fine. She just fell.” 
“Y/n, are you okay?” the man asked, ignoring your date completely.
“Do I know you?” you slurred.
You thought you heard a curse. “What made you think throwing her around was a good idea?” 
“Dude, it wasn’t even that fast. Or my fault. She just couldn’t keep her feet under her.” 
“Well, dude, maybe you should go home.” 
Sean scoffed. “Right, and who’s going to take this one home?” 
Your head was starting to hurt with all of the back and forth. The man that just joined, the taller one, kneeled down beside you. His blonde hair cast a harsh glare that had you squinting again. 
“You want me to call Bucky?” he asked.
Bucky? How would he know Bucky? Blonde hair began morphing into a man in your memory, and you reached for the material of his shirt, looping it between your fingers.
“Steve Rogers?” you mumbled. 
The man, now identified as Steve, sighed. “I’m calling him. Go home, Sean. Her roommate is coming to get her.” 
There was more discussion, something about Steve having the authority to kick him out and Sean not understanding what all of the fuss was about. Steve warned him about something and Sean scoffed as if the situation was beneath him. And then he left. 
Steve was then in your line of sight again, brows pinched together and a bright orange vest covering his shoulders. His hands hovered in front of you as if you’d break if he touched you and you almost found it funny. Steve was a huge guy with a lot of authority on Bucky’s team, but right now he looked like a scared animal. 
“Why are you dressed like a construction worker?” you asked. 
A small smile graced his face. “I’m working at the rink today. Everyone on the team has to take shifts during the holidays.” 
“Hmm,” you hummed. “I think my arm is broken.” 
“I know. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion too. Let’s get you off the ice, yeah?” 
You tried to nod, but that hurt too much so you let Steve assist you in shakily standing up. He guided you to the seats by the rental skate counter with a soft but sure hand on your back, asking some guy named Antonio for an ice pack. Everything around you felt like a fever dream. 
Gentle touches rolled the sleeve of your sweater back to reveal a swollen wrist that Steve immediately covered with an ice pack. 
He cursed again. “Well he’s gonna be pissed.” 
“Who?” Your head swayed with the question. 
Steve looked up to meet your gaze, lips parting to answer, when he was replaced by a different face. Your brain was having trouble keeping up with everything, obviously, because Bucky was in front of you now. He was kneeling between your legs with his hands on your face and you had no idea where Steve went. 
“What the fuck?” you blurted out. 
“Hey, y/n.” Bucky spoke your name low and soothing, his fingers moving to your eyes where he pried them open one at a time and looked for something you couldn’t see. His next words were directed over his shoulder. “Maybe a concussion. Tell me what happened again?” 
“Sean Marcus was being an ass. Flung her all over the place,” Steve replied. 
“Why are you here?” you interjected, trying to focus on one thing at a time. “I told you not to come on my date.” 
Bucky moved his assessment to your arm next, shifting the ice pack. “Never really agreed to those terms.” 
He turned back to Steve after that, having another discussion that you barely understood. Bucky absentmindedly fiddled with the material of your jeans as he spoke, and you put all of your energy into not face planting on the ground. This past week had truly been a series of terrible events with terrible men. 
After some amount of time elapsed, you were walking to the parking lot with a jacket thrown over your shoulders and Bucky continuously jutting a hand out each time you took a step. He was very well versed in concussions, apparently. 
“Okay, in you go, killer,” Bucky prompted, opening the passenger door. 
You eyed the front seat, scrunching your face up. “My arm hurts.” 
The man in front of you seemed to soften, his shoulders dropping on a long exhale. “I know, sweetheart. But we gotta go to the hospital to fix that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“I should just call Wanda. Or Nat. You don’t have to be the one to take me.” 
“I can take you just fine.”
“Why do you want to you? Aren’t you busy?” 
Another long sigh, this one accompanied by hands on your shoulders, fingers at the base of your neck. “Get in the car.”
His eyes were boring into yours, searching for something, or maybe already finding it there. You still had your arm cradled to your chest and you titled your head to the side as you observed him. There was something else to his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe. It reminded you of his expression after he came home from a rough game. Angry. Discontent. 
“You’re being weird,” you commented, breaking the silence you had created. 
“You broke your arm and smacked your head on the ice,” he simply replied, as if the statement was an explanation. 
“Yeah, but—” 
“And then that douchebag did nothing about it,” Bucky interrupted. “So please, y/n, get in the car so I can help you before I find him and kick his ass. Because you know I’m not above fighting people.” 
You blinked, and then slid into the front seat. 
The drive was quiet. You’d never been in Bucky’s car before, but the spinning in your head didn’t give you much space to inspect it too closely. You caught hockey gear in the back, a keycard to the rink dangling off the rearview mirror, and a small collection of hair ties in one of the cupholders. One caught your attention.
“Hey, this one’s mine.” You picked up the purple band and rolled it between your fingers. “Thief.” 
Bucky snatched it back. “Mine now.” 
He made a sharp turn that had you sucking air between your teeth and repositioning your arm. Bucky sent you a quick, achingly apologetic look. 
“Sorry, almost there.” A long beat of silence and then a mumbled, “I should keep your hair tie. You won’t be able to do your hair alone with a broken arm anyway.” 
~~
Your wrist was fractured, not broken. You also only had a minor concussion. This was all great news to you, especially since they told you after administering a hefty amount pain reliever. To Bucky, this was apparently terrible, life-altering news. 
After practically body slamming into the front door of your apartment, he chucked his wallet and keys down on the kitchen counter and began grumbling to himself as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets. You watched from a distance, half amused, half concerned for the rusting hinges. He finally found what he was looking for—a cup—and continued to mutter to himself as he filled it with gatorade. 
“Are you… okay?” you asked tentatively. 
Bucky ripped the freezer open and manhandled three to four ice cubes. “I’m fine. You are not.” 
“I’m okay now,” you assured. Bucky stalked over to you anyways, pressing the sports drink into your hand that was not wrapped in a cast.
You looked down at the glass and sent him a baffled look. He nodded at it and raised his brows, a silent demand for you to drink. 
“Okay. And why do I need to drink gatorade?” Your words were slow. 
“You were just on the ice and haven’t had any water for at least three hours.” 
“Bucky,” you began. “I was ice skating recreationally for about thirty minutes. I don’t need to replenish my electrolytes.” 
“Will you just… will you just drink the damn drink?” he groaned, gesturing to it with a firm hand. “Jesus, I can’t take care of you when you go and get yourself hurt by idiots. So just let me do what I know I can do, alright?” 
“You don’t have to take care of me.” You were beginning to raise your voice, matching some of the frustration in the room. 
Bucky threw his hands in the air, tugging at his roots on the way down. He moved further into the kitchen and leaned against the counter with stiff, rod-like arms propping him up. And then he sighed, long and profound as if this was the hardest conversation he’d had all year. His head hung heavy between stiff shoulders and you felt the environment shift. 
You almost wanted to intervene on his thoughts again, to make some comment about the dishes in the dishwasher or pretend you were going to go take a nap. But he had something to say, something you needed to hear, and so you stayed. You blinked and clenched your fist in the uncomfortable silence, but you stayed. 
“Y/n, I want to take care of you,” Bucky breathed out, words still directed toward the floor, almost too low to make out. “I’ve been tryna get you to see that for weeks now, but you’ve either got no clue or you want absolutely nothing to do with me.” 
You stopped blinking, stopped fidgeting, stopped breathing altogether. You watched as Bucky drummed his fingers against the counter and still refused to look up. You swallowed hard because you weren’t clueless, but also because you wanted everything to do with Bucky Barnes. 
And nothing at the same time. 
“Bucky…” you began, with a tone of surprise you weren’t sure was believable.
“Don’t do it yet,” he stopped you. “Don’t…don’t tell me no yet. I’m still pissed as hell that you got hurt and you shouldn’t be alone with a concussion. I don’t need you avoiding me when you can’t even drive a car.” 
“You’re being presumptuous.” 
He snapped his head up, his eyes rushing back and forth between your own. The drumming on the counter ceased, instead replaced by balled up fists turning white under days old cuts and fading bruises. He didn’t say anything. You searched the empty air for a reply. 
“I wouldn’t avoid you. I don’t know if I could avoid you—not anymore. You’re sort of a big part of my life now.” A good start, you thought. Not a real answer, but not a rejection. 
Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and eyed the drink still perspiring in your hand. You set it down at his observance, moving closer to his slumped posture in the kitchen. 
But Bucky stood up straight at your movement, becoming guarded, stiff. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Bad timing, just forget it. You should try and get some sleep.” 
“I don’t want to forget it,” you softly spoke, shaking your head.
He clenched his jaw. “And I don’t want to hear that you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you. Not right now. I feel like I’m going insane, watching you go out on dates and having my best friend tell me that my girl—that’s not really my girl—is all banged up on the ice because of some asshole.” 
You opened your mouth to speak, but Bucky kept going, now pacing in the kitchen. “I mean, y/n, you’re my everyday. I wake up and you’re making coffee. You text me in class to ask what I need at the grocery store and then I call you after practice to make sure you got back to the apartment. I think about you so god damn much and I can’t believe there was a time in my life that I didn’t get to end my day in a home that has you. And you’re just my roommate. You want nothing to do with athletes, I get it—” he added, catching your eye in the middle of his rant, “—but, shit, I haven’t even looked at another girl since… well it doesn’t even matter.”
“Tell me,” you whispered. There were a million other things you could’ve said, a million explanations that would have made sense. But the two soft words stopped Bucky from tracking holes in the ground. They shoved him from his shallow breaths and made him look at you. 
And, god, did he look at you. You must have been worse for wear. A hospital visit mixed with one too many tumbles onto solid ice probably had your hair in disarray and your face pressed with exhaustion, but his gaze was revering. Candy-coated red with soft blues melting below brows that fluxed with the movement of his lips; Bucky was beautiful, and he was looking at you as if you matched.
His tone confirmed as much, light and saccharin as he said, “That dumb movie a few weeks ago, the one about the superheroes. Your friends wouldn’t watch it with you so you made me. You were so excited even though it was awful and you were out like a light within the first hour. You rolled over onto me and I wasn’t gonna wake you up so I sorta just held you.” 
He paused, trailing his eyes up to the light fixtures. “At the risk of sounding pathetic, it felt like I had you, you know? Like we were going through all our usual motions, but after I annoyed the hell out of you and you told me off, you were mine. I can’t… I can’t really picture that with another girl.” 
There were very few times you had considered yourself speechless. But with Bucky Barnes standing in front of you, red-faced and vulnerable and still wearing the stupid hospital nametag they made him put on in the waiting room, you had no words. There was none of the arrogance you usually associated with him, no short-temper or pestering taunts. It was just Bucky, and he was pouring his heart onto the kitchen floor. For you. 
“You get why you can’t tell me no just yet?” he asked, trying to get something out of you. Anything. “You can break my heart, but let me just make sure you’re okay first. And I can’t beat the shit out of Sean if we aren’t on speaking terms.” 
The laugh that left you was one of disbelief, but the breathiness and accompanying tears fit the heaviness of the room. Your glossy eyes met Bucky’s and something flashed on his face, but it was soon out of your line of sight because you were kissing him. You were kissing him hard and your bodies were too close for the cast between you but it didn’t matter. 
He didn’t respond at first, hand hovering at your back. But then he did and the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor was gone from your bare feet. He sat you on the counter, so gently, as if you were glass, and you let your hand brush against the cracks and divots of your home. The one that Bucky came back to every night to see you. 
The one that had housed so many nights of confusion and longing and denial.
The one that had Bucky kissing the life out of you on the kitchen counter. 
He pulled away first, forehead pressed to yours. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to do that.” 
“You can do it again.” 
“Oh, I will, baby.” 
Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so many instances like the one he shared before where you were left questioning boundaries and feelings and lines. But, you figured, there would be so many opportunities to tell him. So much time together. 
“I texted Wanda that night,” you shared, interrupting the kisses he was pressing to your cheek. “After I woke up and you had taken me back to my room.” 
He smiled against your skin. “What’d you say?” 
“I told her I was an idiot—that I was falling for the enemy.” 
Bucky ran a soft hand along the back of your head, a smirk lighting up his face. He was slotted between your legs and kept his other hand firmly pressed onto the kitchen counter, caging you in, making sure your arm didn’t hit the cabinets. 
“And is that true?” 
“I don’t know,” you hummed, connecting your foreheads once again, wanting to stay impossibly close. “Try to cure my broken bone with gatorade again and we’ll see.”
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bluesidez · 30 days
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GymRat!Miguel Part 2
content warning: mentions of food because big boys gotta eat, there’s a ref photo for an outfit in here that is unfortunately NOT a plus-size girl 😞 (I couldn’t find a big girl wearing an outfit like that for the life of me, but let’s use our imagination), 18+ towards the end so MDNI!
word count: 1.7k (not very drabble-like, ik) kinda proofread
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
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GymRat!Miguel who wakes up when his 6 am alarm rings, eyes tired and bleary. His roommate is sound asleep, thank god, and Miguel is just staring at the ceiling for a good 10 minutes before he decides to move. He has an 8 am and he needs some type of breakfast before he heads to class.
GymRat!Miguel who uses the college cafeteria to his full advantage. He made sure that his dad’s money went to the highest meal plan. One free meal plan a day and a loaded campus card for everything else. He stacks his plate high with everything the cafeteria is offering today. Sausages, eggs, 2 bananas, a blueberry muffin, and a protein shake he brought from his room.
GymRat!Miguel who made friends with one of the cafeteria ladies, Ms. Beatrice, by the third week of school. She noticed how much he visited the cafeteria and always snuck him an extra treat from the kitchen when she saw him.
“I missed you last Tuesday!” she says, squeezing his shoulder when she walks up to his table. She slides a wrapped egg sandwich across the table. “I was saving some extra cookies for you, but you were nowhere to be found.”
Miguel thanks her, happy to have something light for later, “Ah, I was stuck in the library doing a group project. Sorry about that, Ms. Beatrice.”
“As long as you’re getting your education, I don’t mind,” she says, hands on her hips. “Don’t go out there skipping class now, ok?”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Miguel says, waving her goodbye. His mom would kill him if that ever happened. Not that he would tell her, she just had a sixth sense for his “fuck-ups.”
GymRat!Miguel who makes it to his class fifteen minutes early to arrange his part of his desk to his liking. Sometimes he feels so embarrassed when he needs to grab something in the middle of class, his ears hyperfocusing on every little noise he makes in quiet, crowded areas. He always makes sure to get out his laptop, a pen, a pencil, a highlighter, a notebook, some white-out, and a water jug. He prefers to be over-prepared.
GymRat!Miguel who’s feeling anxious when the sorority girls pass by his table, giggling and twirling their hair. They attempt to make conversation with him, speaking ill of the professor. He just nods along for the sake of being a gentleman. He thought the professor’s Millennial attempts at Gen Z jokes were kind of funny, albeit very 2010. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he actually enjoyed the lectures.
GymRat!Miguel who’s never been more excited for a lecture to start in his life. He didn’t know many more “wow”’s snd “that’s crazy”’s he had left in him. The noise of the ice hitting their plastic coffee cups as they struggled to get every drop out was starting to grate against his ears. He missed you and your sticker-covered water bottle. He looked over at his jug and smiled when he saw the ‘Game Over’ sticker you gifted him before the last lab. You noticed his joystick keychain and felt that his water bottle was empty.
GymRat!Miguel who declines the girls’ offer to join them on a morning jog after. He liked to work out in solitude and morning jogs with them would mean conversation. He would also have to be extra conscious about what he wore. No older lady walking her dog needed to spot him jogging with shorts that were too short for his own good and a tank top cut so deep that it was like string on his chest.
GymRat!Miguel who decides to head to the library in between class to kill time. He figured he can see if there are any science fiction he can check out to read in his free time. As he walks there, he opens Instagram to scroll. No, he has not been checking the app since this morning to see if you let him in, he’s not a freak. He stops walking when he checks his notifs to see that you accepted his follow request. He wastes no time to click your page again and is bombarded with tons of photos.
GymRat!Miguel who has to close the app immediately when he sees your first photo. It's a picture of you outside of a restaurant in a knitted two-piece. The top is open just a bit to see your chest and the long skirt is low enough to see a part of your stomach peeking through. Your smile is radiant and the caption is something about congratulating someone. You look delectable and Miguel can’t afford to run back to his dorm to let his mind wander over it right now.
GymRat!Miguel who gets another notification as he steps into his dorm room after his last class of the day and sees that you’ve liked and commented on his most recent post. It’s a mirror picture of him flexing his arm after his last work out. His shorts are riding high on his thighs and the curve of his ass is very noticeable. Gabriel had blew up his phone with voice memos of him cackling after he posted it.
“Looking good!! 🫣 Get those gains Miguel! 💪🏾”
Miguel runs a victory lap in his dorm room, thankful that his roommate wouldn’t be back until that night. He’s jumping and punching the air excitedly as if he were a boxer. If he wasn’t fearful of busting his ass, he’d do a backflip. Take that, Gabri.
GymRat!Miguel who decides to go back to your account, running on the hype of that one compliment from you. He stares at that first photo again, still mesmerized as if he didn’t see it earlier. He gives a like and starts typing.
“Wow…”
No, that’s corny.
“Loving the blue…”
Is he a frat guy?
“You look stunning”
Was that too much? He decides to add on a heart eyes emoji, afraid he might be coming on too strong.
GymRat!Miguel who goes a little further down your page. There’s a photo of you in a crochet cover up, your swimsuit peaking through the material. He groans as he slides to the next picture and the top of your cover up is off and it’s just a view of your back with your bikini string wrapped around it. Your lower half is in the water and if he can imagine it just enough, he can feel himself right behind you, taking in the view of your ass against him.
He’s hard. Again.
He decides to just let everything hang while he has the dorm to himself. His boxers are to his ankles as he sits on the bed, back against the wall. He keeps staring at your swimsuit pictures. Your breasts pushed together while you lean over the boat. Your hips swaying in a clip of you dancing with your friends. Your stomach on display as you lay in the sand, ready for him to squeeze.
He grit his teeth as he played the clips over and over again, his hand moving fast to bring him his relief. He closed his eyes and imagined he was there, watching you swaying before him. He would join you, grab your hips and let you guide him in the dance. He felt faint as he let go, voice shouting and white splattered across his shirt and fist.
He breathes fast, trying to calm down. He decides to like the photo dump and comment some aimless beach emojis under the post. It was the least he could do after using it to get off. How embarrassing.
GymRat!Miguel who jumps when his phone dings again. He was prepping to go to the gym when your response comes flying to his phone. His heart picks up when he sees you replied to his comment.
“That is so sweet of you to say! 🥺 Thank you 🥰”
He doesn’t know if you took it as a friendly gesture or a sign that he wanted you. Either way, he’s over the moon. There’s a pep in his step as he blasts Super Shy in his ears on the way to the gym. He had a new motivation to push harder in his sets.
GymRat!Miguel who tacks on 10 extra pounds during his arm workout. The guys in the gym are eyeing him in wonder and horror as he uses the 70lb weights for tricep extensions. He thinks of seeing you in lab later that week and decides to do some hip thrusts.
He can never be over-prepared.
GymRat!Miguel who decides to take a picture at the end of his work out to post on his story. He’s sweating, hair dripping towards the ends, his chest glistening. The angle is awkward as he moves the camera below him and flexes an arm for the picture. The story was meant for one girl and one girl only, so he didn’t really care how silly it looked to others.
GymRat!Miguel who almost fist pumps on the walk home when you like his story and leave a reply. He checks the private messages, grin on his face before he even reads what you have to say.
“Looks like you had a nice workout. I might have to join you next time and get some tips 🤔”
Miguel swiped the app up and texted Gabriel:
“Don’t ever question my game again”
"? Wtf are you talking about"
Miguel opened up his messages with you again and replied to text him whenever and he’d be happy to help.
GymRat!Miguel who winds down for the night, scrolling on his phone before he closes his eyes. Of course you posted a story and of course he pressed it within record speed.
It was a photo of you laying down all bundled up with a cute ‘good night’ gif moving across the bottom. You had on a spaghetti strap tank top and if your blanket wasn’t in the way, he’s sure he would see more than that.
You looked soft, adorable, kissable.
He liked the story and responded back a “good night” and closed his phone. He wanted you to visit him in his dreams once more.
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dividers by: @gigittamic 🩵
a/n: tumblr mobile kept deleting full paragraphs of my draft. not happy about that because I kept losing my flow. 😒 it happened like THREE TIMES 😭
Thanks for reading! Like, comment, reblog, and tell me how you feel! 🩵
Wanna be added to the taglist for GymRat!Miguel? Comment and let me know. 🤗 (PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO. This series has been and will get even more NSFW!)
taglist: @ghost-lantern 🫶🏾🥺
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i-cant-sing · 7 months
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okay first i need you guys to see these gigs and have a mental image in mind before I begin word vomiting about Yandere Nanami👁👅👁
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If we're going the platonic route, I'm imagining Yandere Nanami just going off the rails when he finds out that baby/teen/adult Fushiguro has entered Shibuya because "I wanna help Gojo escape the box!" And he SAW reader get knocked out by Kenjaku and Mahito who have now kidnapped her. So it's upto papa/godfather Nanami to fucking obliterate everyone until he finds you🥰 (it is very obvious that Nanami does not die in my world) And just like look at the unbridled rage on his face, THE VEINS POPPING, papa Banananananmin is soooo mad at YOU and EVERYONE ELSE because first of all, did he not tell Yuta and the others to keep their eyes on you AND NOT LET YOU ENTER SHIBUYA??? And secondly, why are you going against his direct orders to leave the school grounds??? Eh??? You are in for a LECTURE of your lifetime when he catches you, and you are GROUNDED for life (after he makes you a sandwich ofc)
If we're going down the romantic route, it's Yandere Nanami actually catching reader after she escaped from him and then got attacked by curses so he had to save her, but while he was busy fighting these curses, you had the fucking NERVE to use that as a distraction and run off????? Nuh uh! Nanami, who has been nothing but a complete gentleman to you (except for the part where he kidnapped and locked you away), JUST LOSES IT! He's never been one to resort to violence, he's a gentle lover (frankly he's too tired to hurt you) but perhaps it's time that you and your bottom be brought to a firm hand...
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vivwritesfics · 1 month
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Hooked On A Feeling
Chapter Twenty - Monaco Daniel
Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.
Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)
2.7K
Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader
Warnings: light smut, eating out, handcuffs, Daniels gorgeous nose being put to work
Series Masterlist
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"I can't wait for you to meet Monaco Daniel."
He'd said it after she'd explored the entirety of the gorgeous apartment, had looked out onto the balcony and then put her bags in the room they would be sharing.
She was looking at the pictures on his walls when he walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around her and placed his chin on her shoulder.
"Who is Monaco Daniel?" She asked him, placing her hands on top of his.
Daniel moved his chin from her shoulder and whispered in her ear. It was enough to make her choke as she pulled away from him. "Monaco Daniel sounds..."
She had no response. Not because she didn't want Monaco Daniel. Quite the opposite. She wanted Monaco Daniel real bad. "Who are the friends who would look after the kids?" She asked.
"Max and Lando," he answered.
Y/N knew very little about Max and Lando. But Daniel trusted them, and that was enough for her. Plus, every time she had met them, they'd been friendly towards her. "Sounds brilliant," she said, turning to kiss him.
Daniel gave her a bit of time to shower, freshen up and change into something else. As soon as she was done, she walked out of the bedroom and got herself a glass of water.
"Milo, Olivia and I were thinking about going out for lunch," Daniel said to her, his arm settling around her waist.
All he wanted was to be near her. He was like a teenager in love again. Of course, he didn't notice the way that Milo refused to look at him, the way Milo looked down at his lap.
"Sounds great," said Y/N, leaning against him. "What're we thinking of getting?"
That was how the four of them found themselves walking around Monaco, looking for somewhere to eat. Daniel let the way, pointing things out of them as they went.
They sat in a café. Milo and Olivia got sandwiches and juice, and the adults got coffee's. "Hey Milo," Daniel called, wearing a grin. "Do you wanna walk the track after this?"
Milo looked up at Daniel. He'd seen the Monaco Grand Prix that year, had seen the other AlphaTauri crash into the wall. He didn't realise it wasn't Daniel, at first. It had panicked him slightly, until he saw the driver that wasn't Daniel climb out of the car, safe and sound.
Milo nodded his head, chewing on his lip. He finished his sandwich and looked towards his mother.
But it wasn't his mother who spoke to him next. "My daddy won the Monaco Grand Prix a few years ago," she said proudly.
"You did?" Y/N asked, turning her attention to Daniel.
Daniel grinned and nodded his head. "The year that Olivia was born. I had technical problems but I pushed that car over the finish line and brought home the seventh win of my career."
"That's incredible," she said, reaching for his hand under the table. "We definitely need to watch it, right Munchkin?" She asked, turning her attention to Milo.
Again, Milo just nodded.
After they had eaten, the four of them headed out of the café. Daniel let the way, walking them around the streets that made up the Monaco Grand Prix. He walked beside Milo the entire time, pointing things out and telling him facts and stories from the Grand Prix he'd taken part in.
Y/N could see what Daniel was trying to do. She just had to hope it was working. At first Milo nodded along to what Daniel was saying, not offering much in terms of conversation. But Daniel kept going, kept trying. He wasn't going to stop until Milo was talking to him.
And it worked. Soon, Milo was talking back to Daniel, asking him questions. Daniel pointed out the breaking zones and the two of them visibly slowed their steps before taking the corner. It was adorable.
"Are you excited to go to America with your dad, Olivia?" Y/N asked as she walked beside her.
Olivia nodded her head. "Yeah! Daddy said we could go to a ranch and go horse riding!"
"That's great, Livvy! Can you do me a favour and get your daddy to send me pictures? I'd love to see it," she replied.
Olivia looked up at her. "Can't you and Milo come with us?" She asked innocently.
Y/N gave her a grim smile. "I'm sorry, Liv," she said quietly, shortening her name even further. "But Milo and I need to get back home. We'll try to call you as often as we can," she promised.
"Can you guys come next time?"
"We'll try our best."
***
There was a knock on the apartment door. Daniel got up from the sofa and pulled it open, greeted with the faces of two of his best friends. He stepped to the side, letting Lando and Max walk into his apartment.
"Uncle Max!" Olivia cried, running towards her favourite uncle.
Immediately, Max picked her up. It lasted maybe two seconds before Olivia was back on the floor. "Hey Milo," Max called, waving across the room.
Lando stepped out from behind Max and opened his arms for Olivia. "You gonna come say hello to your Uncle Lando or what?" He asked, wearing a grin.
The hug Olivia gave Lando was less enthusiastic than the way she hugged Max. But she instantly broke out into giggles and gave Lando a proper greeting.
"Hey guys," Called Y/N as she walked out of the bedroom, putting in earrings.
Daniels breath caught in his throat. She was dressed in a red satin dress that fell to her knees. The material hugged her body. The neckline dropped slightly lower at her chest, but revealed nothing, and two thin straps went over her shoulders.
"Hi Y/N!" Both Max and Lando called across the room.
Her small heels clicked against the floor as she walked over to where Milo sat on the couch and crouched to his level. "Milo, munchkin," she began as she moved Rexy to one side. "Max is gonna take you and Olivia to go play with his cats. Would you like that?"
Milo picked up Rexy yet again. "Can I ask him about racing?" He asked.
"I'm sure you can, Munchkin," she said.
Taking his hand, she got Milo down from the sofa and walked him over to Max and Lando. "Hi, Mr Verstappen," he said. Milo immediately began showing off Rexy.
His mother turned to Lando. "Thanks for taking them," she said and leaned against the wall. "He's probably gonna spend the night asking you about racing."
"It's no worries, seriously," Lando replied. "He can have a go on our sim if he wants. You two just go have fun, you crazy kids," he said and grinned.
Lando and Max took the kids with them as they left Daniel's apartment. They said goodbye, Milo hugging his mother, and followed the F1 drivers away.
As soon as they were gone, Daniel turned his attention to her. His hands were on her hips, pressing her against the wall. "You look incredible," he whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Tempted to skip dinner and show you Monaco Daniel right here and now."
She leaned forward and kissed him quickly. "You know I can't wait to see Monaco Daniel. But lets get food first. For stamina and all that, you know?"
Daniel grinned. He stepped away from her, holding her hand and pulling her away from the wall. She followed her into the bedroom and sat her on the bed as he began getting dressed.
As soon as he was ready, they were heading out of the apartment. Daniel held her hand as he led her down to the parking garage. He pulled open the car door and held her hand as she climbed in. "Thank you, Danny," she said. He kissed her hand before letting go of her and shutting the car door.
Throughout their dinner, it was hard to concentrate on anything but each other. For Daniel it was hard to concentrate on anything but the way she pressed her leg against his in the rounded booth they shared. For her, it was hard to concentrate on anything but the way his hand gripped her thigh.
Daniel could hardly pull himself away from her to eat. He had no idea what he ordered, wouldn't be able to tell Max and Lando if they later asked. He was far more interested in her.
After the dinner, Daniel parked up near the beach. As he walked her across the beach, the waves crashed against the stones and pebbles. "Milo would love this," she said as she leaned against Daniel, looking out across the sea. "He'd sit here and draw the view."
"Tomorrow," said Daniel. "We'll bring them here tomorrow."
And suddenly, Y/N got an idea. She pulled away from him, pulled her phone from her bag and placed it on the ground as it softly played music. "Come on," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and began swaying. "Just like our first date."
Daniel was more than happy to move with her. His forehead was against hers and he kissed her as they moved. Soon the dancing stopped and they were kissing beneath the stars.
She pulled away from him and rested her head against his chest. "Take me home and introduce me to Monaco Daniel," she whispered.
Before she knew it they were driving back home at such a speed. A thrilled laugh ran through her as Daniel pulled into the parking garage. He parked quickly, grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the car, up to his apartment.
"You're gonna love Monaco Daniel," he said as he rushed to unlock the apartment door. "Monaco Daniel is all about you."
As soon as he got them into the apartment, he kissed her. Her back was against the door and he kissed her as he pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders.
Monaco Daniel wasted in time and undressed her, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. It seemed unfair that he was still fully dressed as he led her into the bedroom. "Sit on the bed," he commanded, and she did just that.
Monaco Daniel stripped himself as he dug through his closet, looking for something. "Aha!" He called when he found what he was looking for, pulling a box forward from the back of the closet.
Daniel presented her with handcuffs. "Oh, so Monaco Daniel is kinky," she said, reaching forward to take the handcuffs off of him.
But Daniel held them just out of reach. "Whose wrists do you think these are going on, baby?" He asked, pocketing them. He reached back, unclipping her bra, and laid her on the bed.
He pulled her bra away from her body and dropped it to the floor. Daniel kissed her, raising her arms above her head, until her wrists were up by the headboard.
There was no protest as Daniel used his handcuffs to secure her to the bed. She tugged once, testing out the strength of the metal. She let out a satisfied hum when they held up.
Daniel kissed her again. He kissed down her body, kissing between her breasts and down her stomach, until he was where she needed him most. "Monaco Daniel is gonna eat you out until scream my name."
Monaco Daniel dove in. His hands were on her stomach as his tongue moved across her folds, pushing in.
She couldn't deny that she had thought about Daniel's nose before. At first she thought it was gorgeous. And she still did think it was gorgeous. But she couldn't wait to see it in use.
The moment his nose bumped against her clit, she let out an almost pornographic moan. "Holy shit," she cried as she tried to reach for his hair. But, fuck, the handcuffs held her back. She settled for gripping the headboard instead.
***
"Ugh, you beat me again!" Cried Lando as Olivia once again beat him in a video game. "How are you so good at this, Liv?"
"You're just really bad, uncle Lan," Olivia answered as she started another game.
In another room, Milo was asking Max any and all questions he had about being a racing driver. Max leaned against the counter as he cooked up something for the four of them to eat. He'd made the effort to go shopping to get something for Milo and Olivia to eat the minute Daniel texted him.
As Milo asked his questions, he had a piece of paper in front of him, drawing away. Max had opened his laptop in front of Milo, giving him a picture to draw.
"Do you wanna be a driver?" Max asked as he began plating things up.
Milo shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno," he answered. "I don't think my momma has the money for it."
Max gave a grim smile. "Well then, I guess you'll have to just watch me and Daniel race until you can join us on track."
"Really, Mr Verstappen? That would be so cool!"
Milo grabbed his colouring pencils from his bag and began to fill in the F1 car he was drawing with colour. Dark blue, just like the car Max drove.
He put the plates on the table, calling Lando and Olivia to sit and eat with them.
"My daddy said I could start karting soon," Olivia said as she ate. "Uncle Maxy, Uncle Lando, do you think you could come to my races?"
Lando nodded. "Are you gonna go karting too, Milo?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Probably not," he said.
The look Max sent Lando told him everything he needed to know. "Well, Olivia said it's your birthday in a few months," he said. "Maybe Max and I chip in, help you pay for karting as a birthday present."
"Really, uncle Lan?!" Olivia called excitedly. "That would be so cool!"
After they ate, Lando stuck on a movie while Max cleaned up. Full up, both kids found themselves nodding off as they watched the movie. Max and Lando made a decision to take them home. They gathered their things, put them into their bags and checked their phones.
Suddenly, Max's phone began ringing. He swiped his phone across the screen, silencing it before it woke up Milo or Olivia. "We're just about to take the kids back to yours."
"Don't!" Cried Daniel, his voice panicked. "We're having a little emergency here. Y/N and I will be by to pick the kids up in a little bit. Just keep them there!"
"What the hell is going on?" Max asked, his voice hurried. "Are you guys okay?"
They were, in fact, not okay. Y/N was still stuck to the headboard, her body sweaty. She had only just stopped shaking and Daniel was desperately searching for the key.
"Maybe we should have made sure we had it before sticking me to the bed," Y/N said. It was obvious now. She desperately pulled as Daniel searched through his closet.
"Fuck," he cried, digging through his things. But it was nowhere to be seen. "Shit, babe. I think we might have to find another way to get them off."
She looked up at the handcuffs. "Do you have a bread knife we can cut them off with?"
Suddenly Daniel was out of the bedroom, running towards the kitchen. He searched through his kitchen drawers, desperately searching for the serrated bread knife.
"AHA!"
Daniel ran back into the room. "Danny! Stop running with the knife!" She cried and he slowed down. "I can't have you stabbing yourself while I'm stuck here," she said.
Placing the knife between his teeth, Daniel crawled on top of her. He took the knife from between his teeth and instantly began cutting at the leather of the handcuffs. It was a good minute before the knife went through the leather.
But Daniel kept going, until the knife went all the way through and she pulled her hands apart.
The handcuffs were still around her wrists as she and Daniel rushed to get dressed. "We'll get them off later," he said as he threw a clean shirt towards her.
Together, she and Daniel rushed to the front door. But he stopped her before she could pull it open. "I love you," he said and kissed her.
Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow
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wannabeschyulersister · 9 months
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Clingy Carmen?
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It had been a week and a half since you last saw Carmy. Your best friend from college was getting married in Maine and you wanted to be there with her to finalize any details and of course on her big day. You took your maid of honor duties very seriously.
You missed Carmen everyday. He would text you during the day to check on you but it wasn’t very often. You knew he was extremely busy so you didn’t take it to heart. He did FaceTime you once right when he got home one early morning. He looked exhausted so you didn’t chat too long.
On your last day in Maine, you got a text from Richie.
Richie: next time you go out of town, take my idiot cousin w/ you. He’s been a fuckin nightmare.
It was around nine in the evening when your flight got in. By the time you made it out of the airport and got a cab, it was close to half past ten. You knew it was still early and Carmy wouldn’t be home anytime soon.
To your surprise, he was already sitting on your sofa when you walked into your apartment. When he spotted you, it was like you could see the stress leave his body.
“Carmy? What are you doing here?”
He stood up and made his way towards you without saying a word. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, “I missed you so fuckin’ much.”
You returned the hug without a second thought. He smelled of your body wash and cigarettes. A weird but familiar scent. “I missed you too.”
Carmy held onto you tight, but not painfully, as if he were scared you would slip right through his arms. “Richie sent me home. Said I was being a dick.”
You laughed a little. Your head resting on his chest. His heartbeat soothing you in that moment. “If Richie said that then you must’ve really been a dick. He texted me saying that I should bring you with me next time.”
“That dick.” He mumbled as he rested his head on top of yours. You rubbed his back softly and for the first time in a week and a half, Carmen felt at peace.
When you left, he felt this knot forming in his chest. It seemed to get bigger and bigger as the week went on. He felt restless and irritable. Now, with you in his arms, it felt like that knot was gone. He felt like he was finally able to breathe.
“I need to shower and get this airport smell off of me.”
Carmy reluctantly let you go but grabbed your hand in one and your luggage in another. He brought you to the bedroom and watched as you gathered clothes for a shower.
He sat on the toilet seat as you bathed and told him about the wedding. He wanted to hear all of the details about the week.
As soon as you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself with your towel, he was up and hugged you from behind. His head resting on your shoulder. You reached back and touched his hair softly, “You really missed me, huh?”
“You have no idea.” He mumbled as he kissed your bare shoulder.
He watched as you did your skin care routine and helped brush your hair. Carmy was delicate with it in a soothing way.
“Did you eat somethin’? I should’ve asked when you first got here.”
You nodded, “Yeah, I grabbed a sandwich at the airport.”
Once you were dressed for the night in your favorite pajamas, you made your way to the living room when Carmy right on your heels. He had a movie playing from before but he hadn’t been paying too much attention to it. He had been antsy for your arrival.
You sat down on the sofa and he sat right next to you. Arm around your shoulders and he pulled you closer so you were resting against his chest. He breathed in the scent of your floral shampoo.
“How has things been at the restaurant this past week?” You asked him as he trailed his fingers up and down your left arm.
He sighed, “Horrible. We only have six weeks until we open and it seems like everything is shit.”
You hated leaving Carmy in the middle of the restaurant’s renovation. You had a full-time job that made you unavailable to help during work hours. The second you were off for the day, you made your way to The Bear. Carmy appreciated you being there for him to help with any decisions where he needed the opinion of Sydney or you.
Sometimes, you just being there to give him a quick kiss or a comforting touch on his arm made a world of a difference. He felt safe whenever you were near. Like he could handle any shit that was thrown his way.
“You know I’m here to help with anything that you need.” You told him softly.
Carmy kissed the top of your head, “I know. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 months
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Hiiiii, I have a request for the newly arrived Indigo Disk-
A really happy ending for Kiki where after the whole DLC, he then starts to make amends with the BB Elite 4, his sister and protag which eventually gains him Ogerpon's recognition, prompting her to wanna go with him as an extra treat after all his angst (quq)
Yessss we gotta give him the happy end he deserves <3
.........
Setting up a small picnic within the Terarium, you brought your current Pokémon team out to play, deciding to take in the beautiful coastal biome and its warmth.
Even though you knew it was all artificial, it didn't make much of a difference to your companions. They happily frolicked in the sand and grass, although some opted to take a nap under the sun after a hard day of battling.
Meanwhile, you were fixing up a sandwich for everyone to share, deciding to add a little bit of spice to it (at Crispin's suggestion, of course). You didn't want it to be too flaming-hot for your Pokémon--or at least none that were fire types who could handle the heat.
However one in particular just seemed to be hungry for anything, as upon hearing a crystalline trill, you looked down to see Terapagos at your feet. It was gently pawing on your leg, eyes sparkling as it wondered what you were cooking up.
"Hey, little guy." You cooed, reaching down to pat its head before you scooped it up, allowing it to climb into your lap. "Smells tasty, huh? I bet you're super hungry after sleeping all those years."
It only responded with another happy trill, and you just sighed.
Who would've known this would be the legendary "Hidden Treasure" of Area Zero Heath and [Turo/Sada] sought after, the creator of the Terastal Phenomenon...
And the Pokémon that put up one hell of a fight against you, Carmine, and Kieran?
Speaking of whom...
It's been roughly a month since those events down in the Underdepths, and for the most part things have been looking up for both you and him. You were just happy to see that spark return to his eyes...
The spark he had once lost...mainly because of you.
Part of you would always remain guilty over unknowingly setting him down such a dark path--obsessing over defeating you in battle to the point where he didn't care who got hurt in the process.
He didn't wanna be that weak little kid you kept beating back in Kitakami anymore, always bragging about how much he's changed and demanding you to never hold back.
But after being humbled in front of the entire school, he was willing to do anything to have at least one victory against you.
Even if it meant utilizing a dangerous legendary Pokémon he had little understanding of....
He tried to control it, and as punishment it attacked him directly.
Arceus only knows what could've happened if your 'raidon didn't absorb the blast in time, and that selfless act made him feel all the more guilty for the way he acted towards you.
He idolized you, hated you, and yet.....you saved his life when you could have just saved yourself, his sister, and Briar instead.
He cried like a baby the whole way home, overwhelmed by everything that's happened from last year up to now, yet you comforted him and didn't tease him once.
After returning to Unova, he made a promise to fix things between you and everyone else he hurt, finally letting go of his envy and deciding to start fresh with you. His request to be your friend again had you laughing, much to his confusion..and a little worried you were making fun of him.
Then he almost sobbed after you explained that you've never considered him an enemy at all.
Despite everything, you never stopped seeing him as a friend.
Sometime later you went home to Paldea, although not without exchanging rotomphone information with him so you could have more chats.
Yep. Kieran finally got his own phone, but being from the countryside made him only somewhat familiar with the basics. You and Carmine helped him with that, of course. He loved the camera function and would often send you photos of his Hydrapple doing something cute.
They're mostly blurry, but he's getting the hang of it.
You eventually went back to the BB Academy to further your studies of the biomes, and winded up taking a small picnic break within the Terarium. No rules said you couldn't, and Drayton did insist that you didn't overwork yourself...
Which is funny coming from the guy who had to repeat classes, although you took his advice.
"Roto-to-to-to~"
Your eyes lit up as you received an incoming call from Kieran, and you greeted him with a smile, waving. "Kiki! How's it going?"
"Hey, [y/n]." He smiled back, and then he blinked upon realizing how familiar the background behind you was. "Wait..you're back in Unova? In the Terarium?"
"Uh..yeah! I was gonna surprise you, but I guess it's too late for that now." You awkwardly chuckled. "How are things going with the League?"
"Better than..I thought, actually." He sat back in his chair, tying his hair up. "Drayton and I are finally on speaking terms again."
"Oh that's great!"
"Mhm. We both felt kinda bad about how we treated each other with the whole "ex-champion" thing...said some stuff we didn't mean. Last week we were avoiding each other, and now we're having casual Pokémon battles to ease the tension between us."
"I'm glad to hear that." You nodded, taking a bite out of your sandwich.
"I..really do owe you one for bringing the club back together. I've been so bitter and didn't realize how much it was hurting Lacey and the others...not to mention how many people I wrongfully kicked out. I promise I'm gonna get all of them back into the club. I swear."
"I fully believe you. Just don't run yourself dry trying to patch up everything with everyone, okay?"
Kieran nodded in understanding, although he suddenly went quiet. You wondered why until you realized he could see Terapagos, who was currently climbing onto the table trying to get some lettuce.
"Heyyyy that's not for you, you little scamp." Teasingly, you scooped it up again, keeping a gentle grip on its belly and shell before you looked back at your friend, bashful. "Don't mind Terapagos. It's always hungry."
"I see." He chuckled. "You've been taking care of it well?"
"Yep, but have you been taking care of yourself, too?"
"...yeah." He muttered. "Carmine's been getting on my case about properly eating and sleeping again. Don't tell her this, but I appreciate it more than she realizes. And..I'll admit I was turning into a jerk like she used to be, and that's not something I want..."
"Well sounds like you're doing much better now..don't beat yourself up over it." You reassured him.
His shoulders relaxed. "I'm..trying not to....so [y/n], do you think we could meet up in person? Like at your dorm? I...feel like we haven't talked face-to-face in a while."
"Sure! I got nothing planned later so....see you in a few hours?"
"Sounds good." He smiled. "See ya."
The call ended as your rotomphone dropped back onto the table. You picked it up and stared at the case, feeling giddy about seeing him again after so long.
And to think when you first arrived here..you felt nothing but tension whenever he was in the same room as you, feeling the negative vibes rolling off of him like an aura of Bitter Malice.
You were glad those days were gone and he was your friend again.
"Pon?"
"Huh? Ogerpon..? You were here the whole time??" Surprised, you glanced over to see the grass legendary sitting on the ground beside you, being sure to stay clear of the camera view. She lowered her mask and looked at you with a knowing smile.
Considering the way Kieran freaked out when you brought her into the championship battle (not to mention him doing everything in his power to knock her out)...you would've thought she'd never wanna see or hear from him again--especially since her "betrayal" was still a fresh wound.
Yet apparently she was listening to your entire conversation with him, and had this understanding look to her starry eyes.
"Pon, ponnn?"
"Huh?" You blinked. "You wanna..see him, too? Are you sure?"
She hopped to her feet, nodding eagerly before pointing in the direction of the academy.
"Okay. Maybe..it'll be a good thing." A smile appeared on your face, although in the back of your mind you hoped that seeing her again won't scare Kieran too much.
...........
"Okay, so the Golurk congregate here....and they're usually guarding the Goletts.."
Back in your dorm room, you were just jotting down notes about recent Pokémon outbreak sightings. Ogerpon was sitting on your countertop, swinging her legs while munching on a bowl of her favorite berries you've found for her throughout Kitakami.
Right as she finished the last one, there was a knock at the door, and you both immediately knew who it was. She was a little nervous, but you reassured her that things will be okay before you went to answer it.
Sure enough Kieran was on the other side. He's never been to your dorm until now, and as he walked in was surprised and intrigued by all the stuff you had hung up on the wall.
"Excuse the mess." You chuckled, closing the door.
"Don't worry, my dorm's worse." He shyly smiled back at you, although his expression faltered as his gaze went to a certain legendary..
He immediately tensed up, not out of anger.....but like he was expecting her to use Ivy Cudgel at any given moment. "What's the Ogre doing here--wait, no..that sounded rude. I'm sorry."
"No, no. It's fine. There's actually something we've been meaning to talk to you about."
"..oh?" Turning back to you, he tilted his head.
"So Ogerpon overheard our little chat earlier, and she wanted to see you."
"She did?"
"Yeah," you nodded, feeling your heart start to race with anticipation. "And..um...maybe it's easier if she explains."
Kieran was confused as you gestured to Ogerpon, but his eyes went wide when she approached him. With no mask on, she wore a confident expression as she handed him...
A pokeball?
No..
It was the pokeball you caught her in.
"What is this? Some new trick you taught her?" Looking to you for an explanation, all he could see was your smile. "Why isn't she...afraid of me?"
"Because she knew you were trying to make amends with everybody." You patted her head, beaming. "I think she finally recognizes you as a strong Pokémon trainer, and...she wants to be yours."
".....huh?"
"She wants to be yours." You repeated, watching as he tried to process this information. And his jaw damn near dropped to the floor, but he closed his mouth and shook his head.
"Y-You're joking, right?"
"Nope. We both decided that she's ready for a new partner. Someone who's believed in her side of the story since-"
"No, no, no..I..I-I can't do that.." He shook his head frantically, backing away from Ogerpon. "I'm sorry. But she's yours, [y/n]. She chose to go with you. You passed her test and...I didn't. I was being stupid and selfish and-"
"I think I was being more selfish."
Looking up at you, he blinked a few times.
"Listen, I know everyone likes to say such great things about me...but I'm not some perfect angel." You frowned slightly. "I lied to you, I stole the Pokémon you've idolized for years...and I hurt someone who considered me a friend. You called me out on that and you had every right to."
"........"
"If anybody here needs to apologize..it's me." Bowing your head, you sighed softly. "So I'm truly sorry for the way I treated you, Kieran. I'm sorry for never considering your feelings before. I wasn't a good friend, and I wanna be a better one. So I'm gonna make this right...both of us will."
You looked back up at him, seeing the shock written all over his face. Then you glanced at Ogerpon, taking the pokeball and instructing her to get her masks off the wall. She nodded and did just that.
"You deserve to know what her power is like. The masks, the TMs I taught her...you can have them all. No trades. No strings attached..except for us staying friends, of course."
Finally, Kieran found his ability to speak again, but he was already getting choked up. "[Y/n], the apology is...th-that's more than enough for me." His eyes watered. "I forgive you. There's no way I can take her from-"
"You're not taking her away. I'm giving her to you, silly." You chuckled.
"....I..I still don't know if I can accept that. I'm not worthy of her even looking my way anymore. I was disrespectful to her wishes, I stole her mask..a-and you're saying...she forgives me?"
"I think she's gonna let bygones be bygones. Isn't that right, 'pon?"
"Ponio! Pon!" With her masks together, Ogerpon gazed at you, nodding confidently. You could only smile back as you patted her head again, seeing that she was ready for a new adventure.
You've trained her well, helping her grow stronger than ever before as you've mastered her abilities with all four masks.
But now it's time that someone else had the chance to bond with her...
Someone like Kieran.
After sending her into the pokeball for the last time, you gazed at the purple-haired boy. His whole body refused to move, so you approached him and took his gloved hand, placing the device snuggly into his palm.
For the longest time, he stared at it, and then he looked back at you. "A-Are you sure I can't just...keep her for a day and then give her back?" He began to sniffle, face growing bright red. "Because if...wh-what if she doesn't-?"
"I want you to have her permanently." Knowing what was coming, you brought him into a tight hug, feeling him wrap his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder. "Don't worry. She's gonna love you, Kiki." You rubbed his back. "She trusts you now. She's all yours."
All he could do was nod, your shirt getting soaked by his tears as he hiccupped, thanking you over and over again. He wasn't bawling loudly like before, but he still had a tough time keeping himself together; so you led him to your bed where he was more comfortable.
You're 99% certain this poor guy's never received a hug in his life, given how he refused to let you go. So you allowed him to hold onto you for as long as he needed or wanted.
At last you got out all of the things you've been meaning to say to him...and even Ogerpon got to apologize in her own special way by wanting to be his partner Pokémon.
You thought this would have been too much for Kieran to handle, but you could see he's grown a lot and that he was ready to accept this huge responsibility.
Terapagos will remain with you, and Ogerpon will be his forever.
After everything that's happened, it's what he deserves.
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babywriter · 2 months
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You were making yourself a sandwich when a beautiful woman wearing only a shirt and underwear came in. Strangely, her underwear consisted of a very thick purple diaper.
“Hum, excuse me?” you said. Not that you minded beautiful women walking into your house, but strangers are strangers.
“Yes?” she answered.
“Who are you?”
“What?”
“Who are you?” you said louder.
“I’m me?” She looked genuinely confused.
“What is your name?” perhaps she was a little slow.
“Jean?” She answered very slowly, as if you were the stupid one.
“Last name?”
“Billings?” You did know a Gene Billings, your roommate, but the thing with your roommate was that he was a man and this was a woman.
“He brought you home last night?” which confused you, because Gene hadn’t gone out last night.
“Who?”
“Gene.”
“I am Jean.” she said.
“Ok, this isn’t leading anywhere. What’s your real name? Where’s Gene?”
“There isn’t any other Jean, I am Jean! Why are you doing this?"
You had enough of this and went to Gene’s room, where he probably was anyway, or so you thought until you opened the door. Because this was definitely not Gene’s room. This was the room of a grown woman. 
“Ah, I get it. Trying some roleplay?” said Jean behind you. “It’s okay, I can do that.” And suddenly her hands were all over your chest. She pushed you towards her bed and unzipped your pants.
“I’m really sorry, mister. I just came in because I was thirsty.” she said.
“Hey, hey, what are you doing?” you said weakly so that she wouldn’t really hear you.
“Oh, mister, it’s so big!” Her every touch was electric. And when she put it in her mouth, your limbs couldn’t help but spasm immediately.
“Mmm.” She said with her mouth full. “Thank you, mister.” She swallowed. “I feel much better now.” She stood up while you were laying on the bed, panting. 
“I just love sucking.” she said while rummaging through her drawers. “It’s great. Bet you loved it too, uh?”
“Yeah.”
“So, now we’re just going to diaper you and get rid of that little manhood of yours and we’ll be done!”
“What?” But it was too late. By the time she said it, a thick white diaper was already getting taped to your bottom.
You felt the effects immediately. Your breasts, thighs and hair were growing while other things were most definitely disappearing. Like your chest hair. After about a minute, you forgot you ever were a man.
“Thanks for the change, Jean.” You said.
“No problem.”
“So, that guy you were talking about?”
“Daddy? Yeah, he said he’d be willing to let BOTH of us do it. We could even move in with him.”
“I don’t want to move in with a guy.” you said. “I’d rather stay single to get ALL the guys.”
“Fair point. Men sure do like girls in diapers, don’t they?"
Photo credit: @littlestkittenxx
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thebearer · 10 months
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could you do a subtle (maybe teering on mid/heavy) dominance with carm and they’re getting ready for bed ? ( you don’t have to do getting ready for bed it just the first thing that came to mind) anyways thanks in advance !!
You walked through the door, shedding your clothes with each step. "I can not fucking wait to get in this bed, and I swear to God I'm not leaving it all day tomorrow." You huffed, flinging a shoe then the other towards the closet door.
Carmen snorted lightly, setting down his phone to look at you. "Yeah? Sounds good t'me, baby. You know I won't stop you." He grinned, lazy and sweet, your chest feeling with warmth.
You rolled your eyes lightly, bending over to shimmy out of your jeans. Carmen's eyes were trained on you, tongue running over his bottom lip. "Was the dinner that bad?" He asked. He got his answer with how hard you flung the jeans towards the hamper.
"The worst, Carm." You huffed, falling dramatically on the bed beside him. "I don't understand what the purpose of a work dinner even is. We didn't even fucking work, and the food was so disgusting, I couldn't even eat it-"
"-Hold on." Carmen held up his hand, eyes cutting to you. "You didn't eat? You didn't eat at all?"
You huffed, an eye roll of a sigh that had Carmen's brow raising at you. "No, Carmy, I didn't eat. It was disgusting. I couldn't even fake it. Plus, with how much Tonya was talking, I didn't really get a chance."
"Baby, that's not..." Carmen was already rolling out of bed.
"Carmen." You groaned, rolling over to the other side of the bed. "I'm fine. I'll be alright."
"You're hungry." Carmen insisted, one look at you and he could see the way you paused, just a passing second, but it was enough for him to know he was right. "What do you want to eat, huh? I've got a left over sandwich in the fridge or-or I can make you somethin'."
"I'll be fine, Carmy, please." You whined, pushing up on your arms to watch him pad down the hall. "Come back to bed. I just wanna sleep."
"I'm not letting you go to bed on an empty stomach. I know you haven't eaten shit since this morning," True. "And I know you didn't drink any water today, and you'll wake up all sad and sick tomorrow and be in a terrible fuckin' mood." Also true. Carmen knew it, the finality of his voice told you that.
"I will not." You pouted, crossing your arms over your bare chest.
"I'm not arguin' with you about this." Carmen's tone was firm- final. It sent chills down your spine, thighs pressing together. "So what did Tonya talk about?"
"Her kids. One wants to be a chef and she was asking me pointers, like I would know." You rolled your eyes, shimmying your body half off the bed to grab one of Carmen's shirts- your favorite one to sleep in, slipping it over your body.
"Tell her to tell them to not fuckin' do it, that's my advice." Carmen muttered, a plate clattering on the counter.
You could feel the guilt settling in your tummy, in a deep pit that had you fidgeting. The guilt of Carmen taking care of you, when you'd been to careless to do it yourself. You knew he didn't mind but it still made you feel a little uneasy, even when he brought the sandwich in, glass of water in his free hand.
"You really didn't have to do that, Carmy. I was fine." You muttered, looking at the plate in front of you.
"Stop." Carmen shook his head at you. "Eat, alright? Don't need to be goin' all day without eatin'. You know that."
"I could afford to miss a meal, I promise. I'd be alright." Though your tone was teasing, playing on the edge of a joke, Carmen found it anything but funny.
"What did you just say?" Carmen's eyes were hard, cutting like his tone. You paused, looking at him carefully. It was a tone he rarely used, saved it for the kitchen. Only bringing it out on times when he was really upset.
"I was just-"
"Don't you ever let me hear you say some shit like that again, you hear me?" Carmen's jaw flexed, shaking his head at you. You could feel the warmth spreading from your cheeks to your chest. Embarrassment? Maybe at being chastised like that. But judging by the dull ache between your legs, you knew it was probably something else.
"Eat your food." Carmen nodded, still firm but with a softer edge this time.
You didn't argue, his tone was final, you were hungry, and, fuck, was that sandwich good. A classic Italian sub with a positively Carmy twist on it. Carmen waited until you finished your water- after having to remind you to finish it with so much as a sigh and a "there's that much left, just drink it f'me please?"- pulling you under the covers with him to listen to the rest of your dinner.
You felt better. Soured attitude dissipated and the dull headache forming behind your eyes was gone, no longer thudding with every beat of your heart.
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yourmidnightlover · 1 year
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(You don’t have to do this) Xavier Thorpe x reader
The try not to kiss each other challenge on tiktok
ahh YES! i hope i brought your request to justice
i'm gonna take this as like a lovers to friends to lovers kinda thing bc there isnt enough of that going around with our beloved xavier
i also wanted to let y'all know that i am working through my requests! inspiration strikes at odd hours, and i'm trying to delegate all of my time respectively to all of the fics i'm working on. but i assure you i will work through everything!
tension
paring: xavier thorpe x reader (duh)
summary: after months of flirting, your friends take matters into their own hands and dared you to do a tiktok trend.
warnings: kissing, tons of tension (also duh),they're cuddly? i don't think there's really anything else but let me know if i've missed something!
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it had been months and months of flirting between you and xavier thorpe. consistent, unending, raw flirting. this included the batting of eyelashes, shoving of arms, longing stares, buying of gifts... everything. the whole shebang.
and god, were enid, ajax and wednesday tired of it. wednesday constantly wanted to claw her own eyes out when she saw you. enid thought it was cute the first two months, but after that she was only confused as to why you would never make it official. and ajax would just tease the two of you. he voiced his concerns with xavier, occasionally with you, but mostly with xavier. he would mostly talk about how dumb he was to not just ask you out or make it official.
so, as enid was scrolling through tiktok, she stumbled upon a certain video of two friends... or mayabe they were more? either way, they were sitting in front of each other, and each one moved closer to the other. the premise was whoever breaks the tension and kisses the other loses, she guessed?
regardless, there was tension and there was a kiss and that is exactly what needs to happen with you and xavier in order to put everyone out of their misery.
so, she sent the tiktok to ajax and wednesday, the message reading:
weregirl: OMG! we've got to get them to do this! they'd totally admit everything!
middleoftheweek: this is repulsive to watch, but i hope it will be worth it as long as they get whatever they need to out of their system
snakes4hair: if this gives my boy the push he needs to make a move then i'll do basically whatever
and just like that... the game was afoot.
"dude," ajax was laughing at the lunch table. you had thrown your legs over xavier's lap, your head resting on his shoulder as he played with your hair. "there's this new thing i saw online the other day. enid sent it to me, and i doubt you and y/n would be able to do it," ajax chuckled as he looked towards enid.
"oh, definitely not," enid shook her head exaggeratedly. "they'd never be able to do it."
"do what?" xavier spoke up as he took a bite of your sandwich.
"yea, do what?" you perked up at the idea of a chellnege. "we could do it, right?"
"hell yea," xavier nodded as he pat your thigh. "we could 100% do it."
"i don't think you could," wednesday said curtly, sneering at both you and xavier's closeness. "at all."
"yes we could!" xavier removed his hands from your hair, throwing them up dramatically.
"alright," ajax spoke up. "i dare you to complete little challenge. you have to record it though, as proof, and post it."
"deal!" both you and xavier looked at each other, giving each other a high five that only resulted in your hands holding.
later that night, you and xavier had retreated to his shed as he painted before they sent you the video you had to recreate.
"seriously?" you scoffed. "they're just sitting there looking at each other with music playing," you looked at xavier as the video played.
"wait," he pointed at the screen. "they're like inching closer to each other. like one does and then the other."
"but why?" you got your answer less than thirty seconds later. "oh..." you glanced at xavier, who bit his lower lip before glancing at you with a smile.
"i never back down from a dare," xavier shrugged as he looked at you.
you nodded, "neither do i."
after setting up the camera with the video on the three-minute setting, about to start recording. you were sitting on the mattress that you had both smuggled in his shed, the one that used to be rowans before... well. yea. both sitting across from each other, your legs were overlapped with each other's. then, the music started playing.
at first you were both smiling, giggling, even. you inched closer to his face first, around 10 seconds after the music started. your faces seemed closer than they ever were before, and that's when the smiles faded and the tension built.
he reached around you and pulled you on top of his lap for his move. the longer this went on, the more it felt like a game of chess, only physical. you swore you could see every shade of green littering his irises. his cologne somehow radiated around you. you made the mistake of looking at his lips, curiosity getting the better of you. he was gently biting his lower lip. it was almost as if he wanted you to kiss it better.
then, you placed your hand on the lower side of his face, nearer to his neck. you could feel his pulse rate picking up. it was exciting to see what kind of power you had over him. you could now feel the way you affected him. now, you saw as his eyes went to your lips which only made you smirk that much more.
he used both of his hands to bring your face right in front of his. he was everywhere. to your side, you would see his hands. his hands took up nearly your entire face, and you loved the way they felt against your skin. part of you never wanted them to leave. you could nudge his nose with your own if you even slightly moved. you were getting close to losing this whole game. you wouldn't. you couldn't.
you tilted your head to the left, bringing your lips closer to his own but not touching. you were so close you could practically breathe in each other's air. you could feel his pulse pick up once more before you licked your lips, you felt his chuckle radiating around your head. but when you looked in his eyes you felt something totally different. it was heavier. it was more.
then, with a mumble, "screw it," he pulled your face into his own, kissing you with all the tension he had built up over not just the past two minutes, but from the past months of doing nothing.
your hand moved up to his hair, running through it like you had so many times. in this context, though, your hand running through his hair was so, so much different. it was much more intimate.
you let his tongue into your mouth happily, nearly breaking the kiss with how big of a grin you had on your face. one of his hands moved to your waist, wrapping around you like the warmest hug you've ever had. your other hand was holding the hand still on your face. you meant it when you said you never wanted them to leave.
truth be told, you never wanted him to leave. you never wanted to stop kissing him. you've wanted to for months on end, but you were too scared of being rejected. you thought he was joking about all of the flirting sometimes. the touches, everything. but this kiss felt more real than time.
"i think i won," xavier whispered as he went up for air. you shook your head.
"i think ajax won," you chuckled as you both began to laugh. "him or myself, of course," you rolled your eyes.
"we all won," he compromised.
"stupid tension, huh?"
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marvel-ous-m · 1 year
Text
Eddie Munson's Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (1/5)
Part Two
Eddie Munson is many things, but he is not the kind of guy who will kick someone while they’re down.
Call it a hero complex, call it too many hours spent licking his wounds after particularly harsh words from a bully- whatever name you give it, Eddie is vehemently against hurting someone who's clearly already hurting, no matter how much he may hate that individual.
Which is why, in early November of ‘84, Eddie hatches a plan.
It starts in the library, as most of his brilliant ideas do. He’s spending his lunch hour pouring over a borrowed fantasy novel to try and get ideas for NPC’s for his latest campaign with Hellfire, but he gets distracted by a loud thump and a whispered ‘shit’, followed by a sniff. Eddie turns, book still in hand, and proceeds to drop the book onto the carpeted floor of the library in shock.
Because there is Steve Harrington- face beat to hell, hands shakily holding on to a lunch tray, and a salad spewed in all directions at his feet. The librarian- Ms. Boliene (a bitch to everyone other than her outcasts)- began cussing Steve out, demanding he pick up the salad, and Steve got a glossy look in his eye that told Eddie that he was about two seconds from breaking down in tears.
Which- honestly, that was probably the strangest part of this whole ordeal. Steve was King of Hawkins High (and maybe, Eddie theorized, was was the operative word there). Steve had been on a downward slope of popularity since last year when he and Tommy had their falling out. Billy Hargrove (barf) had been getting more and more popular, and, after last weekend, there was a rumor going around that Steve’s girlfriend, Nancy, broke up with him then immediately hooked up with Jonathan Byers.
(Hey, Eddie’s always one to root for the outcasts, he is one, after all- but kinda a dick move, Wheeler. Also, not great of Byers to agree to something like that, especially if he knew about the situation.)
Eddie focused his attention back on the scene in front of him- Steve was now crouching down to pile the wasted salad onto his lunch tray and was blinking rapidly, trying to stave off tears. His head was also doing this thing where it was dipping forward than instantly picking up, like he was trying to even stay awake. Which… huh.
Eddie was sure at this point- this was the lowest he’d ever seen someone get. Even his dad after his mom passed wasn’t like this- at least that bastard could still go out and break shit and get arrested. Steve looked like the only thing he wanted to do at this point was fall apart. Why was he even at school?
Eddie sighed and stood, crossing the room to where Steve was crouching. He gently batted Steve’s hands away and finished cleaning up his lunch, tossing it (and the plastic tray- because fuck this school, honestly) into the large garbage can sitting by the front door of the library. When he turned around Steve was standing, looking a bit shell-shocked. “I… that was my lunch.”
“The floor salad was your lunch? I could believe that before you dropped it, but after? Dude, that’s a low that you cannot reach. I have an extra sandwich in my bag, c’mon.”
Eddie grabbed Steve’s arm, letting go immediately when he felt the whole-body flinch that Harrington gave. Eddie held his hands up, backing up towards the table where he was sitting previously. “I won’t touch you, but you should probably eat, Harrington. I’m extending the metaphorical olive branch in the form of food, I promise that I’m not gonna bite your head off.”
Steve assessed the situation, eyes darting around the library, before he finally nodded and joined Eddie at his table, sitting across from the spot where all of his materials were strewn about. Eddie grabbed his book from the floor and ripped into his backpack, pulling his lunch out and passing it to Steve. (It wasn’t really an extra sandwich, it was his lunch, but it was fine. Jeff always brought snacks to Hellfire and Eddie wasn’t even that hungry today).
Steve stared at the cling-wrapped sandwich in shock, then carefully set to unwrapping it. Eddie noticed a slight tremor in his hands, but decided against commenting on it. “So, uh… what happened?” Fuck, Eddie, abort, abort, that was literally the last goddamn thing you were supposed to ask.
“Um…” Steve finished unwrapping the sandwich, pulling the bread slices apart. “Bologna?”
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it. I know it probably goes against your rich folk sensibilities, but I promise it’s worth a try.”
“Yeah.” Steve took a bite of the sandwich, then washed it down with the bottle of water Eddie slid his way. “S’not my first time having bologna and it won’t be my last. Not bad, though.” Steve set the sandwich down, licking his lips. “Thank you, by the way. Eddie, right? You played at battle of the bands last year?”
Eddie blinked in surprise. The change in conversation topic made him totally forget his previous question. “Um- yeah, that was me. Me and the boys- Corroded Coffin. Not your thing?”
“No! I liked it, actually. Very ‘stick it to the man’. I can get behind that.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow at Steve, to which he received a responding chuckle. “My dad- he’s an asshole.” oh shit, did Steve’s dad do this?
Eddie’s expression must have shifted, because Steve immediately started rambling. “Shit- no, fuck, I know what you’re thinking, he didn’t do this, my parents have been out of town for like, three months. This was Billy- but it’s fine, really! Like, I can see, and I’m not super dizzy, I’m just a little lacking in coordination which- yeah, the lunch tray. You know what? I’m gonna shut up now.” Steve took another bite of the sandwich and another swig of water, and Eddie noted that Steve’s knee began to bounce up and down.
Eddie decided to push everything aside and deal with it later. Apparently this wound was still fresh (both emotionally and physically), and while Eddie could get into a number of things that Steve just spewed out (his parents have been gone for three months? Billy did this? Steve is halfway to falling over but he’s still at school?!) Eddie elected to change the subject.
“So, Steve, do you know anything about D&D?” Steve’s eyes lit up and he launched into a rant about a couple of kids that he hung around. Eddie listened with a small smirk on his face, eyebrow raised.
Steve was… different than expected. Kind, a little awkward, anxious. There’s only one reason that a jock like him has lunch in the library, and it’s because he didn’t have anyone left to sit with in the Cafeteria. He reminded Eddie of an abandoned dog… specifically a golden retriever with Steve’s eyes and his floppy hair.
Curse Eddie’s big heart and savior complex, but he knew what he had to do. Steve was about to become the newest member of Eddie’s little herd of lost sheep, whether he liked it or not.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I haven’t decided if I’m going to write a part 2- let me know if you’d be interested in one! I’m so glad to be back to writing after a very long semester of school. I should be writing a lot this summer, so drop some prompts in my ask if you want to see something specific!
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