#very loudly just yelled this and my mother was like ????
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Soulja Boy tell ‘em!!!!
#megan thee stallion#I’m sorry it had to be done#very loudly just yelled this and my mother was like ????#good for him for calling those people out#remember that time he was going on about ye and said he’d fight him I think if he took the mic from him
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Hello! I've read your soap and price fics and you are amazing!!!
I had an idea for a fic for Ghost. The reader would be Soaps slightly older sister who isnt like Johnny at all. Im thinking she either picks up soap from base after an op or from the bar. I'll leave alot of this up to you but i just wanna see Soaps Sister meeting Ghost!!
Brother's Coworker
PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Soap's Sister!Reader
SYNOPSIS: In the dim illumination of the streetlights, Ghost lays eyes on a woman leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp.
WORDCOUNT: 4.2k
WARNINGS: Little bit of angst, but mostly fluff and pre-relationship pining, loads of sibling banter, conflicting emotions, etc.
A/N: Finally able to use my sibling experiences for a fic lmfao, enjoy!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
The woman was leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp, the custom color a deep forest green along the sides and a cream white coating the upper third. Ghost stared at her as the rest of the men filed out of the bar one after the other—Johnny and Gaz being especially loud. He blinks slowly, hands inside his blackened pockets.
Across the way, your ears perk slowly at the sound of rapturous shouts, but you only continue to look down the sidewalk at the long illuminations of street lamps and the glints of broken bottles on the ground. Over your chest, your hands shift in their hold on your biceps, your thin jacket crinkling. Light dances in your irises.
“Oi, is that who I think it is?!” Familiar Scottish drawl brings a smirk to your face, and you turn slowly to huff, snapping out of your silent thoughts.
“Who else would it be, ya bloody git,” your voice carries, but it lacks the sheer volume of your brother’s; the great boom that reminds you of the bombs he’d used to make out of your mother’s hair spray bottles.
Never a dull day in your childhood home, really.
“‘Bout gave me a heart attack, not answerin’ my calls like that!” Johnny laughs loudly, obviously drunk, and stumbles over merrily. You’re taken into a chest-breaking hug in mere moments, leaving you squirming with a deep grunt. “Should have your head, MacTavish.” You manage to squeak out, “Put me the fuck down, you horror. And what in the hell have you done to your hair?!”
“Oh, my dear sister.” Your brother lets you go as the three other men slink over, amused with the scene but some momentarily confused by the sudden introduction. Gaz laughs, and the Captain huffs a chuckle before fixing the position of his beanie on his head.
Ghost, as always, chooses to watch like a looming shadow above the rest.
Johnny puts a hand to his chest, the other remaining on your shoulder, “You wound me. Such cruelty stuck in your black soul; I say now, mother was always right—”
You smack the side of his head and Johnny grunts.
“Ow!” He yells, glaring at you. “What the fuck?!”
“Open your mouth again and I’ll wring you out, you arse. You know I will.” Grumbling, the Scot rubs the side of his head as you raise a brow at him. The stare-off lasts for a decent bit, and before the rest of the group knows what’s going on, the two of you are embracing each other once more; laughing loudly.
Ghost’s eyebrows pull in slowly.
“Ah, it’s good to be back!” Johnny chuckles, holding you close as you pat his back.
“Of course, I’d find my kid brother at a damn pub on his first day home.” Taking a step away from the hulk of a boy, you brush down your shirt and jacket with a scoff. Looking up, you come to face the remaining men with an exasperated look. “He’s full of shite half the time, y’know, now. Can’t imagine what he puts you all through.”
“Bloody hell, Soap, you were holding out on us,” Gaz chuckles loudly, sticking out a hand for you to shake while he glances at the mohawked Scot who looks giddy despite being insulted by who’s very obviously his older sister. “Never knew you had siblings, Mate.” You take the man’s hand as he smiles brightly at you.
“Kyle.” He says, and you beam back, “But Gaz’ll do just fine.”
“A pleasure,” your voice carries to John who you raise a brow at teasingly. “Well, look who the Reaper’s yet to drag down…Good to see you again, Captain.”
Price shakes his head, a smirk peeling his lips as Gaz steps back.
“Still on that land of yours, then, Love?” The brunette asks gruffly, leaning back on his heels for a moment while you sag your side into Johnny’s arm. Your brother scoffs and loops his limb over the bridge of your shoulders as you nod.
“You know it. Proper quiet when the neighbors aren’t up to a ruckus racin’ down the streets. Christ, those kids are devils—worse than Johnny and I when we were young.”
“Now that’s hard to believe, eh?” The man beside you laughs through his slurred words and you roll your eyes.
Chuckling in return, you blink, spying on the intent black figure behind everyone else. Piercing brown eyes dig past flesh like a scalpel while you tilt your head to the side, interest alighting behind your skull. He doesn’t move or even greet you, just looks over you and then turns his attention to the street like a roaming bear would; hell, he certainly could be a bear with how big he was. Bigger than Johnny, even.
This stranger wears a large brown leather jacket, the hood of his underclothes pulled up to cover most of the pale skin that would otherwise be visible. The long swish of light lashes captures you as you study the way he blinks slowly across the road. On his chin and on the top of his forehead, the fabric of a skeletal-painted balaclava shrouds him. Cargo pants and large black combat boots sit on his feet.
He stands like a statue.
“Who’s this then?” You call easily, and those eyes travel back to you even as the head doesn’t. It’s strange the way you seem to brush aside the blatant intimidation he exudes simply by standing.
“Ah,” John grunts, chuckling, before stepping to the side. “Simon, introduce yourself.”
A low voice lowly wafts after a moment to silence, Manchester accent spearing you in the ears with its rough make-up, “Ghost.”
You blink over at the Captain, but he just shakes his head and you move on. Johnny chuckles and whispers to you, “Don’t mind ‘em, Lt’s a bit rough around the edges.”
Plastering on a polite smile, your chin moves in a nod, “Pleasure to meet you, Ghost. Good to know the other two who look after Johnny out there.” The man beside you feels his face burn, free hand going to itch at his neck.
Ghost grunts and shrugs off the veiled praise, large muscles stiff.
“You’re actin’ like I’m not the one savin’ their skins half the time,” Gaz interjects on the Scot’s point.
“Is that what you call it?” You share an amused glance at John.
Though, your eyes always sway back to Ghost, or Simon, depending on who you ask. He listens to the chatter, obviously, but he seems much more content to only stay with his hands inside of his pockets and study the street for...what exactly? The beast wasn’t shy, no, just…silent. If you didn’t know better you’d call him aggressively casual with the way his shoulders sit.
Stance relaxed but the underlying threat was palpable on the wind. Like a wolf rubbing his cheeks on the ancient trees of his territory. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ - it seems his very DNA states that.
Brown eyes suddenly lock with your own as if snapping into place and before you can release a squeak of alarm, you swiftly dart your gaze away back to the arguing Sergeants; face burning.
Christ, how long had you been staring at him?
“Alright, you two, ease off it!” Trying to distract yourself, you wave a hand. “You’re both too drunk to be gettin’ into street fights at this hour. Johnny, into the car ya fool.”
Your brother slashes you with a grin.
“Fuckin’ finally, a decent bed!” It was tradition to give Johnny the spare room when he was back home—proper meals.
“You’re callin’ mother, y’know.” You unlock your car and motion to the passenger seat with a frown. “I dinnae care if you’re trapped for hours—give the woman a rest of all her worrying.”
“You heard the woman, Sergeant,” John forces the gravel out of his throat, rubbing at his beard. Something hits your chest as your brother opens his door as you stand in the cold. You glance at each man in turn; eyebrows pulling in with thought.
“Ah, what the hell,” your voice huffs out. Ghost watches you closely, blinking as he lifts a hand to itch at his neck from under his hood. The leather jacket crumples with tiny shifts of worn-out material.
“Don’t suppose you boys need any good beds to rest your heads on for the night?” Wiggling your keys, you pat the top of your Hillman as you slide to the driver's side. Johnny slinks inside his own and chuckles as he closes the barrier with a careful thunk.
“Hospitality finally leakin’ in?”
“Next time I hit ya,” you send him a bland look, “I’ll aim for the neck.” Fake flinching towards him, the man squeaks and snaps quickly back into the car door as you snicker lively.
“Beast!” Johnny exclaims. You roll your eyes and shimmy down the window behind him, calling out as the rest share glances.
“Get in if you’re comin’ over! If not all the food I made yesterday’ll go to waste!” That seemed to get Gaz into the back, with only Price and Simon left behind.
Brown meets blue and John’s beard pulls back with a smirk. He clears his throat, “Well, I’m not one to spit in her face.” The Captain walks over and grunts as he bends down.
Ghost sighs under his breath and follows, impartial as to where this night is going. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, no doubt. The hard and unforgiving beds on base were the only things he could rest on now save the ground. And food? He could go without food for days.
Though, being Johnny’s sister bought you some favor, trust wasn’t something that Simon gave around freely. But the car you drove was nice, and the company of his Task Force was easy to basque in until they shipped out again.
Simon sits down on the refurbished seat and softly closes the door behind him. Dead-eyed, he stares at Johnny’s headrest as you glance at him from the rearview mirror—seeing his shoulder dig into the glass of the window.
You shove down a joke and hum. “Good, then, it’ll free my fridge at the very least.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Gaz offers as you start up the engine, “it’s awfully nice of you to do this for us.”
“Ah,” Simon hears you dismiss as he turns to stare out of the window; so often feeling his gaze drawn back to you as a leaf attached to a tree might act. “Don’t worry your head about it. I like the company.”
“Aye, just how she is,” Johnny says earnestly. “Was always the one to let me over with my pals when the football games were over—’cept we were usually covered in mud.”
“I’m still finding grass in my rugs, Johnny Boy,” you mumble, focusing on the road as a slight squeaking emanates from the front of the car. Simon picks up on it easily, not preoccupied with speaking. He glances at you but mentions nothing beyond a shuffling of his thighs.
Outside the land slides past in shades of verdant green and gray as the town falls away.
He was confused, rightly. You’d seen his standoffish nature but had chosen to extend hospitality as the old Greeks did just off a growl of his name. But maybe it was just because he was your brother’s coworker.
Simon grunts to himself and rubs at his wrist. Throughout the ride, the two of you would glance at each other and try to forget that you had; when the long driveway of a large secluded home expands out above the car, Gaz whistles lowly.
“Bloody hell, Ma’am,” he states and John chuckles. You easily smile and roll your eyes.
“Trust me, it was more work than it was worth.” Ghost’s attention is slightly peaked.
“You worked on it?” His tone implies he doesn’t care, but his eyes gore into the mirror to lock with your own. Blinking in surprise, even the others seem to be taken aback by the man's lack of venom in his speech.
Ghost wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when he needed to, but he didn’t do mindless chatter. Your eyes cycle between the driveway and the masked Brit before you clear your throat. Johnny glances at you with a raised brow, slight confusion in his brows.
“Mostly—left the nasty bits to people more knowledgeable than I am, but I did most of the grunt work, eh?” Simon hums as the car pulls to a stop inside the garage, eyes not leaving the back of your head.
Your neck bristles at the sensation of unrelenting contact, but the burning that joins it is telltale. Licking your lips you twist the keys out and quickly shuffle out of the door to dispel the electricity in the air.
“Alright,” you say, “out. All of ya…Johnny, you’ll be helping me with the bedding.”
A groan is cut by an unimpressed glare. “...Yes, Ma’am.”
You huff and smirk.
“Trainin’ him well I see,” teasing John as they all file out of the car, he shakes his head at the two of you as Simon scoffs. Gaz openly laughs as Soap’s offended look grows.
You all enter the house as you direct them to the kitchen after they’ve taken off their boots and hung their jackets. “It’s all in the fridge, heat what you want, and don’t bother fightin’ Johnny if he takes too much. Tell me and I’ll make him sleep in the back near the chickens.” Your voice tells them as you pat your brother on the shoulder.
Johnny grumbles and kisses the top of your head. “You’re horrible to me,” He jokes but his eyes shimmer with affection. As you leave to get a head start on the rooms, you smile and call out to him.
“That’s my job!”
Backing out into the hallway, you leave with a deep well of happiness in you. You don’t even realize that the party had only contained three men instead of four until you’re in the linen closet and a shadow suddenly blacks out the light from the bulbs. Jumping slightly, your head swivels as you carry very many sheets and pillowcases in your grip.
“Oh,” you mumble through cotton, smile growing as the flip in your stomach does, “Ghost! Done eating already?”
The man is still and silent as he glances from your face to the sheets. Without a word, he halves the load and steals them as your jaw loosens in shock.
“Johnny’s outside callin’ your mum.” Ghost turns and walks out, but waits for you in the hallway to be directed.
You push down the tightness to your throat and see the man’s feet shift on the hardwood. He looks funny, such a big man carrying bed sheets. His actions make your heart speed up. Brown eyes blink at you like a cat.
“Well,” you chuckle, “always was one to get out of housework.” Trying a smidge more, you shift past him and turn off the light. “His barracks room dirty?”
“Pigsty.” Simon blandly states, walking slightly behind you. Your pace slows so you can stay beside him. He side-eyes you but says nothing.
Leaning in slightly, you quip as Ghost tenses, “Can’t say I’m surprised. The man’s used to me bailin’ him out.” Chuckling, you go into the first bedroom and put everything on the bed.
Simon grabs the pillows and starts to dress them quickly and efficiently.
“But thank you,” you say, and the Brit pauses to look up at you, something swirling in his murky gaze. Earnestly, you tilt your head with a smile. “Ya can go back and eat more if you want. No need to help—you’re a guest.”
“Not hungry,” is all he answers, and gets back to work. You watch for a moment, perplexed, but not at all about to deny the assistance. A genuine grin twitches your lips.
“Johnny writes about you, y’know,” your fingers pull at the fabric and you chuckle as Ghost’s incredulous look turns to you—face hidden but confusion is obviously seen. “Says he looks up to you quite a bit; something about Mexico.”
Your face dips slightly, and Simon’s body stills. Along the pillow, his grip carefully tightens. He can’t find it in himself to walk out of the door and stand outside even if he knows he should.
“I really can’t imagine what it’s like,” you mutter, shaking your head. Gazing at him, you study his wound muscles and secret flesh like a tapestry—wondering if he hides himself because of the safe anonymity or a sense of numb fear.
He wouldn’t admit to either, you know. But something about Simon had captured your attention and now you had a face, or just a body really, to put to the written name like a puzzle piece.
You take a long breath, “But you’ll never know how grateful I am.”
By the way his chest stops moving and his body goes frozen, you think you hit something inside of him; the minute widening of his eyelids like pedals opening in the light. Simon peers at your expression, his eyes sliding from one point to another.
Like he can’t really pinpoint what you want.
Ironic really, because you didn’t want anything.
“Don’t thank me,” is what he settles on, moving back to the pillow as if your words hadn’t stabbed him. “Johnny knows what he’s doing.”
Your small snort enters the air above the sliding sheets. “There’s no argument there.” A sigh echoes as you finish up, putting your hands on your hips. Across the bed, you two stare as Simon tosses down the pillows. The remainder of the sheets sit on the end of the bed.
The man’s eyes narrow on you, and he clenches his jaw under his balaclava.
“The only thing that I do know is that every time my brother comes back he smiles less than he did before.” You side-eye him seriously as you move. “I can only guess what all of it does to the others who don’t have anyone else to go back to.”
Simon’s breath halts in his chest before he finds the means to take down a slow inhale. Brown eyes glare intently, jaw tight, but it’s not the fire that gets to you…it’s the lack thereof.
Ghost doesn’t like this feeling, and your candidness was something he hadn’t expected.
“So,” you drawl, “I’m thanking you for giving him someone to joke around with—a distraction,” a teasing smirk, “no matter how blunt.”
“I just told you—”
“Well, I don’t bloody care, do I?” Huffing, you smirk and tip your head back before snatching the rest of the sheets. “C’mon, we have three more rooms.”
Simon watches you leave and tries to fight the rampage in his chest; the merciless slam of his heart to his ribcage. What had you done to him? A hand comes up and rubs into the bridge of his nose, fingers heavy and tight.
What in the hell was going on?
Growling under his breath, Ghost stalks out of the room only to see your back disappear into the next. In the hallway, he takes a long inhale and closes his eyes to steady himself.
“Fuckin’ hell,” the man grunts. The tension in his shoulders was plainly visible.
For the remainder of the room, Ghost would send you tight glances as he worked but didn’t utter another peep. You had taken his voice, or what little left of it there was.
In many ways, you were like your loudmouth brother—your snark and your stubbornness. But you were different too.
He feels his eyes trail down your form slowly from time to time. Capable; hardy. Simon blinked away and grunted under his breath aggressively.
When everyone was done with their food and Johnny had come back in from his call to his mother, with a soft smile on his face, you knew it was time for bed.
“Alright,” you strut into the kitchen with Ghost on your heels—his large arms crossed over his chest as he caught Soap's intense stare. The Lieutenant's brow raises, but Johnny only frowns in conspiracy before he looks over to you and itches at his chin. “Beds are made. You can all thank Simon for that, seein’ as Johnny used our mother as an excuse yet again.”
“And she was very pleased to hear from me!” Your brother points to you.
“She’s our mother,” you deadpan, “It’s her job to be, ya arse-face.”
The boys all follow you down the halls as you point to the rooms. Gaz shakes your hand again and gives you a tiny hug in thanks while John pats your shoulder and calls a soft, “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
Both close their doors and you hear the large sighs through the wood. You have to wonder when they’d had a good bed to sleep on and a good meal. Last was your brother and Ghost, the latter of which kisses your head and hugs you tightly.
“It’s good to see you, truly. Been missing you, little Hen. Thanks for lettin’ me over all the time when I’m home.” You melt and grip his shirt.
“You’ll always have a place here, you know that. One call away…Now go to sleep. You smell like a pub.” He lightly chuckles against you. With a bond this tight, the two of you never had to say that you loved each other—it was just known.
Johnny squeezes you one last time before pulling away and slinking into his room, giving an unrecognizable glance to Ghost on his way in before the barrier slips into place with a quiet thunk of wood. The two of you look at and stare for a moment.
“Lucky you,” your voice is quiet but easy to hear, “you get the room with a view of the field.”
“Color me surprised,” he mutters, not looking enthusiastic. Against the tone, the look makes your mouth jerk in a laugh, and you cover your lips after a moment.
Simon’s eyes unconsciously soften.
You wave a hand, chest light, “Let’s go then, you brute.”
“Brute?” Simon grumbles, “Gettin’ familiar?”
“Please,” you shake your head and walk to the last door in this section of the house. “You all became familiar the second we met.”
The man rolls his eyes but has his smirk hidden as you open the door for him. He tilts his head in thanks and strolls inside.
You hum, crossing your arms ahead of you and leaning on the doorframe as he looks around, “Don’t think too much over it… The baseline is, you’ll always have a bed here if you need it.”
Ghost slips out, “What are you? Bloody boarding house?” The swelling in his chest made his words harsher than intended, but you just smile cheekily at him as eyes lock.
“Hell’s bells, if you want ta’ get me a business card just go ahead and print ‘em off already. I’ve no problem with it.” He stares and you laugh, shrugging. “Makes me feel good.”
Splaying your hands, you back out.
“I know you probably won’t sleep,” Simon pauses, feeling caught but not showing it. “Libraries down the hall—if you smoke, use the back door. Kitchen is free game.”
“Why?” He asks and you blink, confused.
“Well, why not?” Simon glares.
“You shouldn’t trust people like that.” A loud laugh echoes and makes the man annoyed with you.
“Simon,” you say, and he finds himself hanging on every word that falls from your lips in the moonlight. “Not everyone is out to get you. If you’re friends of Johnny’s, then you’re friends of mine. That boy can sniff a cheat faster than a hound can find a hare.” Perhaps it was the way his shoulders went back at that, or how his brows loosened, but you finish off with a soft explanation. “You’re safe under this roof.”
You wondered, not for that last time that night, if he’d ever been told that. From how his balaclava moved with a sharp jerk of his jaw, you assumed never. It made your lungs hurt.
With a few more seconds of quiet gazing you nod and move back.
“Goodnight, Simon.” You leave him staring at the door as you close it—eyes boring into the grain so harshly they might catch fire.
Ghost doesn’t know how long he stays like that, but his ears twitch at the echo of running water and soundless footsteps. He should leave, he tells himself; this is dangerous, a voice hisses. It’s not safe here, how could it be? There were no guards—no weapons. If someone were to sneak in there wouldn’t be an alarm.
A secluded home. Nothing around.
Then why had your words seeped into him?
“You’re safe under this roof.” Simon closes his eyes harshly.
—
In the morning once everyone’s gone back to the base, you admit you don’t know if you’ll see Simon again; you probably won’t. But you find that you can live with that. The memory of his loosening tension is all you need to feel special in your own right. Those brown eyes that, if but for a moment, had bled so effortlessly feelings of something other than blood and death.
As you sigh a dreamy chuckle to yourself, you get ready for the day before heading to your Hillman. The silent drive to work joins with the strange mix of weight and levitation to your chest. But halfway into town, it hits you.
Silent.
There is an obvious lack of squeaking from under the hood of your car as you slide along the countryside.
The smile doesn’t leave your face for weeks.
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hallmarks of sisterhood
putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.
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Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you.
It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked.
As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily.
All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could.
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“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister.
“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.
“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.”
Alba flushed red with anger.
“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind.
“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”
“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?”
“You are such a-”
“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room.
“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed.
“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending.
“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted.
“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter.
When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried.
Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.”
“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”
“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.
“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl.
“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit.
“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.
“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-”
It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped.
“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly.
“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you.
You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously.
They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument.
You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise.
You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong.
------
You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often.
Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock.
Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.
“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.”
“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer.
“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos.
“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go.
“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile.
“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room.
“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics.
“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it.
As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up.
If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so.
This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you.
------
The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument.
You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this.
If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it.
You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope.
Alexia had responded first.
It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.
Alba responded after that.
You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.
You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.
-------
You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today.
You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later.
You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later.
“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder.
You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible.
“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed.
You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.”
“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look.
“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.”
Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.”
You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.
-------
You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included.
That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall.
The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image.
You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life.
You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous.
You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically.
You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful.
You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song.
More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters.
Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly.
You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her.
They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.
You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation.
“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face.
“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?”
You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters.
Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck!
Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.
You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come.
A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt.
“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly.
“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head.
“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.”
You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others.
-------
Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right.
She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face.
“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly.
Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?”
Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.”
Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset.
“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.”
Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.”
Eli chuckled. “I will.”
She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that.
-------
You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you.
“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed.
“I know, mija, I am so sorry.”
“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.”
Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t.
-------
It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life.
Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.
“Mami, I-”
“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.”
“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach.
“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”
“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.”
“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were.
“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life.
Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it.
Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you.
--------
Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch.
Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?”
Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba.
It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said.
“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister.
“We really did.” Alba replied.
“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared.
“We really do.” Alba agreed.
“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?”
“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face.
Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.”
“New car?”
“New house?”
“Can we buy her a country?”
They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior.
-------
The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset.
You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face.
“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently.
“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged.
“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you.
Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands.
“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them.
“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?”
“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this.
“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly.
“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?”
Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her.
“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped.
Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that.
“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.”
Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?”
“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse.
“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety.
“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’”
“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head.
“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.”
At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot.
“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer.
With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.”
Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore.
“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments.
Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work.
-------
Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in.
Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself.
“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?”
Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face.
Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes.
“Do you think that is enough?” You asked.
Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.”
Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway.
“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight.
It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you.
“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you.
You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting.
You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears.
Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters.
Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot.
Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed.
Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you.
It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special.
You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself.
You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught.
“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other.
They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction.
“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered.
“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”
And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be.
When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands.
It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get.
-------
Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands.
And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted.
“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands.
“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.”
Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded.
“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly.
“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it.
“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.”
“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-”
Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit.
“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.”
Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed.
Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be.
-------
it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.
everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.
hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.
#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics#alexia putellas x reader#putellas!reader#platonic reader
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Reader having an absolute baby fever while seeing Lando interacting with little fans during a race weekend.
Note: I have been in my Lando feels so much recently (who knew, right? With what I've been posting 🫠), and the little ones near him just send my ovaries to the moon, I swear!
It first happened when the little boy with a Mclaren cap Lando waited for him at the entrance of the McLaren unit after qualifying. You walked with Jon in front of Lando as he was giving Sky Sports a quick interview, spotting the little boy immediately.
"Oh my goodness, look how cute!", you gushed as you approached him and his family who seemed to recognise you, "are you here to see Lando?", you asked, crouching down so you were at eye level with him. He got really shy and hid beside his mum's legs as you smiled at him, hoping would finish his interview soon.
"Well, hello!", Lando greeted the little boy as his parents ushered him gently to take a picture with him, "come here, buddy!", Lando smiled as he walked up to him, "I really like your cap!", he tried to settle his nerves and as his parents were about to take the photo, he ran away from your boyfriend, "oh- okay", he chuckled before the little boy stood back next to him, "you have to say cheeeeese!", Lando exaggerated as the little boy giggled.
"That was such a cute moment, I snapped a couple of pics to put in my photo dump! And I'm going to send this one to your mother!", you cheered.
.
Walking through the paddock, you noticed it was quieter than usual at this time of day, scanning your pass and trying to stay out of the way of the people working there and saying hello to the ones you were familiar with as usual until you spotted a little McLaren driver.
"I'm sorry, miss!", the man you assumed was his father called for you. You had on your McLaren rain jacket, and the grey pants you were wearing did make you look like you worked for the team, so when he asked you at what the time Lando would be doing autographs, you apoligised, "Oh, I don't work for the team, I'm sorry!", you explained, "Oh, it's just Liam wanted to meet him, we'll ask someone else, thank you", he smiled warmly as Liam waved at you.
"Actually, I can make that happen for you", you smiled as you explained the whole situation as you walked to the unit, calling your boyfriend's trainer to make it happen.
"Who's this?", Zak asked you as you walked hand in hand with Liam into the garage, "this is Liam, and he's a big fan of...", you encouraged him to speak up, "Lando!", the boy said loudly, "Oh - thank Goodness! I thought someone had done some magic and Lando shrunk!", Zak said, feigning relief as he out his hand on his chest to emphasise.
"Look, it's Lando!", Liam yelled as he saw your boyfriend walk to where you were, "Hi Liam! I was told I have a very special fan at the track today!", he said as he crouched down, talking to him about all things related to racing and then showing him around the garage.
"How much do you want to have his kids after this? I promise I won't tease you too much about it", Max jokingly whispered on your ear as you watched your heart eyes directed at your boyfriend as he let Liam touch the steering wheel.
"In a way that concerns what I believe and questions feminism, as in I would happily give him a football team, bench players included, so, yeah, that much", you looked up at Max with a stern face as he seemed shocked by your words, "told you, it's been hitting me pretty hard lately", you shrugged your shoulders.
.
Max had space on his jet for you and Lando, and since you were all flying back to Monaco, you accepted the offer to fly with them.
"There they are", you nodded with your head as you spotted Kelly, Max and Penelope by the passport verification counter.
"LANDO!", the little girl yelled as she jumped in her spot in excitement at seeing your boyfriend, who ran up to her and crouched down against the wall.
The little girl was quick to hug him, small arms wrapping around neck as she smooched his cheek, "Ugh, that's it", you groaned as Kelly looked at you, "I'm sorry - I don't mean it that way!", you quickly apoligised, "it's not your cute daughter I'm complaining about, she's the sweetest girl, look at her", you smiled as she happily did a few turns to show Lando her dress and then her bracelets, "it's the sight of my boyfriend near her that made me groan - it's been like this every single day, I swear. A cute little kid goes up to him and he's all cute and cuddly with them, and boom! My ovaries are doing somersaults", you chuckled at your own words, "my baby fever has been alm over the place! Oh, they're trading bracelets!", you gushed, "I think I might cry, actually!".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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・❥・Loser!Mizu Headcanons・❥・
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Firstly, I'd like to apologize for how deranged this came out towards the end, so mdni pls pls. Secondly this is a Loser!Mizu x Rebel!Reader typa shit, so it will get specific at times. My requests are open, btw.
Okay, enjoy ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
I stand by the fact that Mizu would be a huge loser. Like girlie grew up not really interacting with anyone but her mother and Eiji and doesn't really like meeting new people (Ringo for example)
She'd get shy, and you can't change my mind. She'd blush a lot, especially on her nose. Blud turns into Rudolf the moment she's embarassed.
She'd be the type to dress like literal Adam Sandler, then try to casually pull her shirt's sleeve up to flex her muscles.
She'd say shit like "Oh, these? I dunno, they just...spawned here." All while knowing damn well she spends half of her life at the gym.
She'd still wear shades all the fucking time, but not to hide her eyecolor, but because she thinks it's cool, and because she mained Johnny Cage in mortal kombat.
She'd listen to corny ass music like Joji, Hozier, maybe Mitski or even The Front Bottoms and bop her head agressively. Then she'd deny the whole thing and say that she was listening to Playboy Carti or Drake.
She'd be in the basketball team, but would be horrible at teamwork. She wouldn't pass, she'd just go for it everytime. She'd miss 20% of the time, and then yell something like "It wasn't my fault, this bitch was breathing down my neck!" or just groan loudly out of annoyance.
She'd be very drawn to water. She'd visit the beach very frequently, but the local aquarium even more often.
Mizu was standing before a smaller aquarium, looking at the spotted, green fishes' quickly pacing around between the glass walls. She came here right after basketball practice, so she was quite sweaty, and tired but being here, for some reason, always charged her energy. Her hair was in it's usual bun, but her shades were now closed, and were hanging from the neck of her shirt. Her eyes were shining in the dim blue lighting as she slowly placed her fingers on the glass. Suddenly, she almost jumbed backwards when she finally realized someone was standing next to her. She turned her head to the side and saw you. It was fucking you. It could've been anyone else, but no. You.
You and Mizu had a couple classes together, and you were one of the most prettiest girls Mizu has ever seen. She saw you on campus a lot, smoking in the parking lot, yelling at one of the fratboys because he parked his dumb car in a way that your motorbike would get stuck next to it, or literally running from one of the professors. She never talked to you though. She never had the opportunity, or at least that's what she told herself. In reality, she was just a coward.
Bit still, she would be lying if she said your face hadn't popped up a couple times when she touched herself. There was just something about you that always caught her attention. You didn't know her, but she felt like she knew you. Everytime she had a basketball game, she looked for you in the crowd. You were rarely there, and even if you were, you'd leave halfway after throwing food at someone. Still, she'd do her best, trying to impress you, knowing damn well you won't give a shit.
"What?" You laugh right in her face. "Scared you? Or did the Discus' mesmerized you so much you forgot you were in public?" You say, turning your gaze to the fishes.
"E...excuse me?" Mizu manages to croak out, her eyes widening. Why are you talking to her like you two have been friends for years? It's not like she minds, but it sends her anxieaty flying. It's her first time actually talking to you, of course she's nervous. She has rehearsed this a couple times in her head, planning to quickly guide the conversation towards how good she'd be at beating people up, (because she knows how much you do that) but now that it's actually happening she's pissing her pants.
"The Discus. Rot Turkish Discus, to be specific. The fish you were drooling at." You press a finger against the glass. "Pretty cool ones, I'll give you that. They can change the pigment in their body if they're stressed or sick." You say, casually dropping a "by the way did you know" kind of fact. One she didn't know.
"Oh." Mizu looks back to the fishes, but actually she's just looking at your reflection in the glass. "You like fishes?" Great. Stupid ass question.
"Yeah, kinda." You shrug. "They're interesting, but I'm here because they have bugs on the second floor." You point up with a small, lazy grin. Mizu remembers that, but never went up there. Bugs were never really interesting to her, but...maybe today she will. She mentaly notes that you like bugs.
"Hm." Mizu hums back. "If you think about it," She starts, glancing at you to check if you're still paying attention. "Fish are kinda like...water bugs." She says, and even shrugs for good measure. She needs to look like she doesn't give a shit.
You let out a laugh. "What a genius." You roll your eyes. "There are actual water bugs though, but I'm willing to overlook that." You say, then walk past her to look at the next aquarium, and Mizu just follows you withouth even thinking about it. "Cichlid." You say, pointing at one of the pinkish fishes. Mizu realizes how little she actually knows about fishes eventhough she comes to this aquarium a lot. She just likes watching them. "A very pretty one at that too. Jewel Cichlid if I'm correct." You say, almost as if thinking out loud.
It's as if Mizu became mesmerized. She walked along you trhough the whole aquarium, then followed you upstairs to the bugs. She listened you naming all of them, then telling her fun facts like 'An ant-eating assassin bug piles its victims onto its body to scare predators' and 'Ticks can grow from the size of a grain of rice to the size of a marble'. You were someone who'd always caused trouble in school, saying it's all bullshit and how fucked the system is, but you were actually very educated. On animals, that is.
She never really cared about people being smart or not, but right now it was the most attractive thing ever.
And with that, you unintentionally ruined her life. She was fine-ish with having this little hallway-crush on you, but now that she actually interacted with you for two full hours, she's fully in love.
And somehow that makes her frustrated.
She'd walk with Ringo on campus, listening to him ramble about this new dish he cooked and how she should totally come over and rate it when you suddenly dash by her, probably escaping from some football player you made mad again. Mizu would freeze, then mutter "why the fuck is she so cool?!" under her breath and lightly punch Ringo on the shoulder.
You're so hot it makes her mad.
You two didn't really talk after that though, just casual greetings in the hallway, and sometimes sitting at the same table in the cafeteria, but that was it. Still, it was more that nothing.
One time you started a fight with one guy outside of the parking lot because "he dick rode a teacher while the teacher was making bitchass bigot jokes".
You left the guy with a broken nose, and would've made it a broken jaw too if someone wouldn't have stopped you.
Akemi recorded the whole thing, and Mizu needed to discreetly beg her to send it to her.
She couldn't help it. Seeing your sweaty form, your face scrunched up in anger, your knuckles blood stained...it wasn't enough to see it just once. She had to watch the video on loop.
She'd wonder if you'd make a similar face in bed too. She'd wonder if you're a top or bottom.
She'd wonder if you're even into girls at all. It seemed too good to be true though.
Still, watching that video over and over again made her mind wander.
"Fuck..." Mizu mumbles out as her fingers finally reach her folds under her boxers. With her phone in hand, the video of you beating the shit out of some guy playing, your huffs and groans on full volume in her headphones. She closes her eyes, and imagines you kneeling between her legs.
She had a long day. She argued with Taigen, listened to Akemi whine about this guy, Takayoshi, then Ringo kept talking about this boring ass anime he watched about a broke God, or whatever...plus, she didn't see you once today. She couldn't catch a whiff of your smell as you walked by, or she didn't hear your sharp and raspy chuckle, or saw your smug grin. Torture at it's finest.
Is she proud of it? Nah. It's embarassing as hell to masturbate to your crush who probably forgot you even existed, but hey, a girl has to blow of steam somehow, right? And you just couldn't leave her head. It gotten to the point where she can't even watch porn, unless one of the actresses look like you, which is...rare. You're too good looking to be compared to sluts like that.
She imagines that it's your hand that is slowly circling around her clit as you whisper in her ear. Things like "You're so warm...I can't wait to taste you" or "You want this as much as me, don't you? Mizu..." and it gets her to buck against her fingers.
She licks her lips as she imagines your pussy hovering over her mouth while you slowly finger her. She imagines your taste, and how'd you drip on her face before you allow her to dive in.
She'd eat. Oh, she'd devour.
She saw your ass in jeans before, and it made her clit throb in public, so she just knows it's perfect when it's bare. She quietly moans your name as her fingers work deeper, placing the phone down to only listen to the audio, her other (now free) hand moving up to tease her hard nipples through her shirt.
She slowly pumps her long fingers inside herself, her back arching on the bed. She whispers your name as she imagines you slowly lowering yourself on the strapon she has inside her drawer.
She doesn't know why she has that toy though. She has only ever been with one person, and that was a guy. It happened years ago, back when she was still in denial about her gayness, and when she was still living with her homophobic mom. But after she first masturbated to the tought of you, she impulsively bought the light teal strap on dildo, just in case you ever somehow ended up in bed. She'd fuck you just the way she imagines it right now (lies, btw, she'd freak out and cum after two seconds). But still, there's no harm in having dreams.
She'd watch your tits bounce as you ride her, her hands firmly grabbing your ass. You'd moan her name, hair falling in your face as you lose yourself in pleasure. "Fuck...so fucking pretty...loving my cock, aren't you?" Mizu coos into the air, her thumb circling her clit as her fingers move faster inside her, agressively curling into her g spot. "Yes...Mizu, it feels good..." You'd moan back as you throw your head back when she starts thrusting her hips upwards, fucking you from under, leaving you no choice but to lean on her for support, pushing your beautiful plump boobs so damn close to her lips.
She'd suck on your nipples until they're red and puffy while she brings you to your climax. You'd love her cock, she's sure. She got the one that was the same teal that was also the color of one of your bracelets. Small, almost stalker-sih detail? Yeah, but she imagines you'd be impressed.
Afterwards, she'd lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, post nut clarity hitting her hard. And the next day, she wouldn't even be able to look at you, withouth getting embarassed...and horny. Oh only if you could hold her for real.
#bes mizu#blue eye samurai#bes x reader#blue eye samurai mizu#blue eye samurai x reader#mizu x reader#fanfiction#mizu fanfic#bes smut#smut#bes headcanons#mizu blue eye samurai#mizu headcanons
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I loved your stories with Clarisse. I wanted to know if I could do one where Reader is a daughter of Nemesis. Normally very quiet and "calm", to the point that many don't understand how she and Clarisse work out. But one day, some campers set up an ambush for Clarisse in the capture the flag and she ends up getting hurt. Even though Clarisse doesn't care much, Reader comes up with a plan worthy of Annabeth's surprise, and takes revenge on the campers who hurt her girlfriend. Everyone knew it was her, but there was no concrete proof so she gets away with it.
RAHH‼️‼️
I’m not your friend
Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Daughter of nemesis! Reader
An - im Actually loving all these request also i didnt add much of the song to the fic bc low-key i forgot that was the song I choose but it’s ok I’m just a girl
Palestine help links
The conch shell rang loudly. You looked up and sighed, finishing tying your shoes you grabbed your weapon of choice before heading towards your spot at flag patrol.
Clarisse ran past you but stopped. She gently grabbed your waist, kissing you she grinned. “Feel like a winning day?”
“Maybe” You mumbled with a smile. Clarisse kissed you one last time for ‘good luck’ before she ran off to do some hunting.
Many campers were confused about your relationshp. Clarisse who was an arrogant and abrasive girl who had to much pride for her own good, managed to end up dating you a calm collected and quiet daughter of nemesis. Some figured your gentle nature just happened to balance out clarisse chaotic one.
——
You aimlessly walked in circles around the flag with the other kid who was patrolling with you doing the same. You stepped on a twig which made a loud snap, you felt an over whelming sense of anxiety. Your kiss earlier for good luck had also connected you and clarisse both in battle a gift you had inherited from your mother.
You grabbed your weapon that was sitting on a near by rock quickly. “Where are you going!” The kid who was patrolling with you yelled as you ran off.
Soon you found clarisse sitting against a tree wincing in pain as her sibling was adjusting her arm into a sling.
“What happened” You anxiously dropped by clarisse moving some curls out of her face. “Fucking Athena kid made some dumbass trap” clarisse nodded her head as a signal for her siblings, they moved her arm fast making her yell a string of insults in Greek. After a few minutes she panted as the pain subsided “Sprained my arm but it’s fine, i can still fight”
“No Your not” You sternly spoke.
“It’s whatever just a sprained arm I’ll live, can’t say the same for that Athena bitch though” clarisse muttered under her breath.
You looked up at her siblings and gave them a look which they understood was ‘don’t let her leave from here’. The kids looked at eachother but kept quiet, you leaned over and kissed clarisse. “Stay here ok.. 20 minutes and if I win the game you will take a break for a few days ok”
Clarisse grinned at the bet “and if you don’t?”
“You’ll get my meats for the next month”
“Fine”
——
You spent the next ten minutes getting caught. You get caught then you had the advantage in setting your trap.
Luke tossed you down with a small pile of kids one of which was your brother Ethan. You pretended to be sad and dissaptioned using your clean record charm to your advantage.
“Sorry y/n It’s Nothing Personal Just fun and games” Luke gave you his same old sarcastic smile.
“No it’s ok I get it” you shrugged your shoulders. Waiting for him to walk away you turned to Ethan. “You set the ropes right?” You leaned over and whispered
“Yeah did everything like you asked” he muttered while glaring up at the blue team kid who’s as standing guard over the captured kids.
It took about 10 minutes until you heard a loud commotion, with that you had knocked out the solider standing guard stole the flag and ran off to the lakes shore.
——
The final conch rang signaling your teams victory. Clarisse rolled her eyes as she walked over towards you shaking her head at your dumb sarcastic grin. As your group celebrated, the blue team walked over with Chiron in tow.
“Her fucking y/n she’s the one who set up that damn trap” Liam a Hermes kid pointed at you accusingly you however remained innioncent.
“What trap?” You played it off.
“Oh you little—“ liam started to get into your face but clarisse immeaditly stepped in. Chiron however put his arm inbetween the two to keep things cordial.
“How about you tell me what the trap was” the centaur looked down at the angry kid. He had been scuffed up pretty bad with a few bleeding cuts of his own.
“It was a Large rope scheme, we stepped into our safe zone and boom a loud explosion of green fire went off before we could leave more went off getting practically all of our team surrounded in Greek fire, then once we got free half of us were swept up into the tree upside down by that point the flag had been taken and now we’re here and I know it was y/n because… well I can’t actually prove it but I know it was her!” 
You kept your innocent appearance with a small smile still denying the accusations.
“I’m sorry Liam but if there’s no solid proof I can’t do anything, as far as I see y/n is innocent” Chiron sighed while setting a comforting arm on his shoulder. The kid scoffed and stormed away, as everybody cleared off you smiled at clarisse giving her a kiss. “So about the bet” you grinned.
“Shut up” she laughed but kissed you back. In the corner of your eye you saw annabeth chase of all people walking over to you.
She stopped infront of you with a serious expression. You raised an eyebrow confused but waited for her to speak. “I know you set that trap, and I know you made sure not to leave an evidence you did it. Next time you wont be so lucky” she crossed her arms, you knew annabeth was a force to be reckoned with and crossing her was a bad idea. “But you have my respect that was a good trick you pulled today. Enjoy your celebratory dinner” she sighed before walking away.
You looked back at clarisse for a moment. You smiled wide at her laughing at her pretend agitated face at the fact you had won and clarisse ultimate lost.
“You know” clarisse started while walking back to the dining hall with you. “It’s kinda hot how you managed to fuck up a bunch of kids just because I got hurt, don’t tell me your over protective”
“Shut up clarisse”
Clarisse - this is bullshit
Y/n - you lost now you have to rest for a week
Clarisse - again this is bull shit
———
#lesbian#wlw#clarisse la rue#clarisse pjo#clarisse my beloved#clarisse x female reader#butch clarisse#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse x you#clarisse larue#clarisse x reader#percy jackson show#pjo show#pjo fandom#percy jackson fanfiction
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When Their S/O Meets Their Family
Type of Writing: #4 - Poll Result
Characters: Manjiro Sano, Mitsuya Takashi, Souya Kawata, and Hakkai Shiba
Family: Sister (M.S.), Mother and Sisters (M.T.), Brother (S.K.), and Sister (H.S.)
Name: When Their S/O Meets Their Family
Original Poll Link: Here
A/N: For Hakkai's part, it only features Yuzuha meeting the reader because of how Taiju is an abusive a-hole to them. Anyways, have fun reading this!
Slight spoilers for: Black Dragons Arc
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🍡 Mikey is very close with his family, and everyone who has ever met him knows this
🍡 When you first met Mikey, he no doubt wanted you to meet his sister, Emma, because he knew that she would like talking to his brother's S/O
🍡 He introduced you guys to one another a couple weeks after your relationship began, in which he just rode up to your house and asked you straight-up if you wanted to meet someone important to him
🍡 You hopped on his bike, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and rode with him from your home to his to meet this person
🍡 Mikey has told you all kinds of stories about his family, from his late older brother Shinichiro to his younger sister Emma
🍡 His bike came to a stop in front of a Dojo, it was his family's, the same one that he was raised in and technically adopted his sister, Emma
🍡 He grabbed your hand and dragged you through the doors, announcing his and your arrival loudly for someone to hear
" Emma! You here? "
" Yeah, oh! Who's your friend, Mikey? Is this your S/O? "
🍡 A youthful girl walked out from around the corner of the hallway and looked into the Dojo-themed room, her yellow eyes stared into your (E/C) eyes and she smiled
🍡 Introducing herself, you learned that this was Emma Sano, Mikey's younger half-sister, specifically her father's mistress' child
🍡 Unfortunately for Mikey, you and Emma bonded so much that you were pushing Mikey's affections down a peg, meaning you were ignoring him slightly, prompting him to start pouting
🍡 Why was his family such good conversationalists?
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🪡 You have heard millions upon millions of stories of Mitsuya's younger sisters, Luna and Mana, and his mother
🪡 He has wanted you to meet them for so long, but, since his mother worked late and normally wasn't given many breaks from work, he hasn't had any time to actually set up a meeting
🪡 Both thankfully and not thankfully, his mother was given time off, only because she had gotten sick
🪡 Mitsuya was putting in a lot of effort to helping his mother get better fast, so, when you called and he explained the situation, he was shocked when you said you were coming over with some soup
🪡 He tried to protest, claiming he didn't want you getting sick, but, you protested his protests (omg i've never typed that word that much) and you hung up after telling him you'd be there later that day
🪡 Mitsuya sighed and and laid the phone down, you really were a stubborn person when it came to things like this
🪡 When he heard the sound of his sisters yelling that a person was at the door, he got up from the kitchen stove, where he had a tea kettle and opened the door
🪡 You held out a tupperware filled with a reddish-orange thick liquid, he was guessing it was the soup you had made, probably tomato
" Love, you really didn't have to do this. "
" Well, I can't have my future mother-in-law staying sick for long, now can I? "
🪡 Your boyfriend directed you to his mother's room while his sisters played in the living room, and when his mother saw you, she smiled and laughed, teasing her son
🪡 He smiled lightly as he handed her a spoon and laid the smooth-vegetable soup in her hands, before wishing her health to reach her and leaving the room with your boyfriend
🪡 This may have not been the most ideal way for you to meet his family, but it did remind him of why he loved you, you're an amazing person with an amazing heart
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💢 If you met Angry, you no doubt were destined to meet his twin brother, Nahoya, or Smiley
💢 Angry has wanted you to meet his brother for a while, but, his brother could be quite a lot to take at once, and he understood that, he grew up with him for Pete's sake
💢 When you called his home one day and Smiley picked up, he pretended to be his twin brother, since he obviously wasn't gonna step up to have you meet him anytime soon
💢 He snickered once you hung up, bidding goodbye, and he began to start laughing, though he attempted to hold it in, his brother was in the next room after all
" Who was that? "
" Oh, just a spam. I decided to prank the scammer, it was fun! "
💢 Angry was relaxing on the sofa, messing around with a plush you had gotten him a few days prior, by what he knew, they weren't expecting any guests, especially ones after 5:00pm
💢 When he opened the door and saw you standing there, his eyes widened and he cocked and eyebrow, asking why you showed up unannounced, and when you replied with how he asked you to come over for dinner that night, he connected the dots
" That must have been Nahoya, my brother... "
" Oh! Now I'm embarrassed, I can't even tell my boyfriend apart from his brother. "
" Not by voice, no, but, you'll definitely tell us apart by our physical features... "
💢 Nahoya jumped out from behind the corner and hugged you, saying how happy he was that he could finally meet the person that his brother raved about when healing or resting
💢 This was gonna be a long night...
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☄️ I'm gonna layer this on very thickly, he does not want you to meet his older brother, he's a sadistic man by heart, and he doesn't need you to suffer from his cruelty
☄️ Hakkai wanted you to meet his sister, yes, but, due to your busy schedules, he couldn't seem to find the perfect time where Taiju and Yuzuha were apart
☄️ So, whenever you guys had met up to hang out, he normally led you to your home and away from his, he didn't need any trouble now
☄️ But, when you came to his house unannounced, he froze in place
☄️ Oh God, why were you here now?! Taiju wasn't in the brightest moods by what Yuzuha told him, and he didn't need to risk your safety like this!
" Hakkai! Who's at the damn door?! It's takin' you forever! "
☄️ You cocked and eyebrow as he yelled out to the male how it was someone he needed to speak to outside for a few minutes
☄️ He ushered you back outside the doorway and stood with you outside his home, and he sighed, knowing you were gonna ask him a ton of questions on what was going on
☄️ Hakkai slightly teared up as you asked what was happening, and, when he just told you that they had some 'familial bonds' that were kinda rusted over, you groaned, knowing he was lying
☄️ Instead of pushing salt into the wound, you hugged him, allowing him to sigh and wipe his tears away as the door opened
☄️ He swung around to shield you as a young girl walked out, she had light-orange hair and piercing amber eyes, and when she saw you she tilted her head
" Who are you exactly? "
" I'm- "
" This is the person I've been telling you about, Yuzuha. Y/N, this is my older sister, Yuzuha, and this is my S/O, Y/N L/N. "
☄️ Yuzuha smiled and held her hand out for you to shake, saying how she figured he had an S/O with how cheery he was whenever he hung up the phone sometimes
☄️ Hakkai got flustered and tried hiding his face as you and Yuzuha exchanged stories about Hakkai being a dork as he mumbled about how you guys were 'ganging up on him'
#Tokyo Revengers#Tokyo Rev#Tokyo Manji Gang#Toman#Tokyo Revengers x Reader#Tokyo Rev x Reader#Tokyo Manji Gang x Reader#Toman x Reader#S/O! Reader#GN! Reader#Manjiro Sano#Manjiro Sano x Reader#Mitsuya Takashi#Mitsuya Takashi x Reader#Souya Kawata#Souya Kawata x Reader#Hakkai Shiba#Hakkai Shiba x Reader
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AITA for telling my mom I don't like it when she slaps my ass? potential tw
so I (22 trans m) currently live with my mom (65), and I've always had issues with how she interacts with my body. today she woke me up to try on a pair of pants I bought yesterday before she washed them, and I asked her if she could stop staring at me while I took my pajama pants off to try on the jeans. she pushed back and laughed it off saying it didn't matter, so I had to change in front of her cause she refused to leave the room. this has happened many times before where she insists on watching me change, even when I'm completely naked, despite me asking her not to.
I put the pants on and she immediately comes over to inspect how they fit for herself, tugging on the waistband and looking them over, then promptly slaps my ass. I immediately recoil and tell her I didn't like it and I want her to stop, and she scoffs and rolls her eyes at the suggestion. I tell her it's weird because we've had this conversation before since her slapping my ass is a frequent occurrence, and like usual, she insists there's nothing weird about it because she's my mother and she isn't doing it to be sexual. when she does this, she usually says, "I birthed that ass, so I'm allowed to slap that ass if I want to." I tried to tell her that I'n an adult and I should be allowed to tell her when I don't like something she does to me, and I was visibly pissed off and kicked her out of my room to go back to bed.
I could hear her in the other room walking around saying loudly, "ohh, so I'M aaaaalways the problem. I'm the problem, of course," in like a mocking tone because she clearly thinks I'm in the wrong. I know she's an asshole for a lot of other reasons (she's pretty transphobic and doesn't respect my name, pronouns, or that I'm on hormones, and she frequently takes out her anger issues on me by yelling at me if I even look at her wrong when she's mad), but this one has been bothering me a lot since I moved back home after college (I'm also unemployed and wouldn't be able to move out for a while despite already wanting to get away from her)
for further context, she's always had a specific way of interacting with my body that I think is weird but she refuses to see it. she insisted on personally bathing me into middle school, then continued to say that I needed her help to shower correctly even up to now, so she frequently walks into my bathroom or bedroom when I'm entirely naked and will look my body over and I'm not a fan of it. she also still tries to force her way into changing rooms if we go shopping together so that she can have the final say in how I look in clothes, and she never even wants to turn around or wait outside while I strip.
I've tried to get her to stop before but she keeps doing it, insisting that she's my mother so she's allowed to, even though I'm an adult who hasn't lived with her for the past four years and is very autonomous, so it's not like she still does everything for me. she also pushes back and says that if I think it's weird then it must mean I've been assaulted before and that's why I don't like it when she touches me. I'm also autistic and don't like frequent hugs or any kind of touching and she doesn't like it when I tell her to stop doing that too, but her slapping my ass and insisting on seeing me naked is the stuff that really bothers me, the rest I tolerate just so I don't have to argue with her all the time.
I've asked friends before if they think it's weird she does this, but she's so insistent that she should be able to touch me whenever and however she wants just because she's my mom and that she can look at me naked because she birthed me and has seen me naked before, so why is it different now that I'm a full on adult. I honestly don't know who's in the wrong for this specific thing and if I'm over exaggerating like my mom says I am, but I'm so sick of her touching me when I tell her not to that I needed to poll answers, so:
am I the asshole for telling my mom to stop slapping my ass and insisting on looking at me while I'm naked despite being an adult and asking her not to?
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I wanna eat Thomas up like he my LAST MEAL 😫😫
Shawtyyy like I’m beating up his guts like I die TOMORROW!! 💖💖
Honestly if I saw him with my (dumbass) group of friends I would turn to them and be like “hol’ on i’ma try to wife up this super model ova here, go on without me cuz this town is my new home as long as he here.” While LOUDLY pointing to Thomas and trying to be suave AF but lookin dumb in the process. Lowkey though I feel like realistically he would think I’m making fun of him and kill me first 😭😭.
What’s your take on it?? How would our (hot-sexy-mouthwatering) Thomas Hewitt take a very bold flirtatious reader?? Thanks and bye!! ✌️💖💖
I am having thoughts and feelings about this thank you very much
So, we all know Thomas is a very shy and reserved man. He isn't bold or confident by any means. He does as he's told, and sticks to himself, pretty much never leaving his comfort zone.
But, Luda Mae's getting older, and despite her head-strong and strong-willed demeanor, Thomas worries about her.
So, he starts spending more time at the old country store, if for no reason other than to serve as a deterrent for the off-handed biker or degenerate looking for an excuse to try and rob a poor old station clerk.
It works, and Luda Mae enjoys spending more time with her son.
There's not much to do out at the shop, and so more often than not Thomas finds himself resting out in the old rocker to escape the hot smoky air wafting from the patron's and his mother's cigarettes.
It's a cool October afternoon, a nice breeze keeping the hot sun at bay as he gently pushes himself back and forth with his foot, eyes closed as he rests.
He hears you before he sees you, the loud, excited yells of a group of young women fading in from the distance as a jeep kicks up dirt, pulling up to one of the old, rusty pumps.
He squints his eyes open, watching as the four of you sing along to the radio, no one concerned with how off-key y'all may be.
He sighs, closing his eyes again, not moving from his seat in the old rocker as your group continues having the time of your lives.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," A clear voice suddenly emerges from the chaos, the music lowering to a quiet hum, "Who is that?"
He opens his eyes again, seeing that you have set your eyes on him from your place in the backseat, sunglasses lowered to take in a better look.
He frowns behind his mask, face scrunching in expectancy, waiting to hear the barrage of rude comments and hideous bullying.
The rest of your friends glance over his way as he shuffles in his seat, shoulders tensing as he looks away, uncomfortable with the attention.
"Goddamn." You start again, letting out a low whistle, "If this is what this town has to offer y'all can just leave me here."
A large eruption of playful teasing, groans, and eye rolls come from your friend group as you wiggle your eyebrows at him with a large, flirtatious grin.
He looks back, caught off guard by the terrible pick up line, frozen in place as you blow him a kiss.
"Are you for sale, pumpkin, 'cause I could just eat you up!"
"Oh, my god, leave the poor man alone." One of your friends tease you, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you further into the car.
He can't help but stare, left in shock by the sudden and unexpected flirting.
You couldn't be serious, right...?
There's no way you could actually be flirting with him right now... Right?
His thought process is broken as you ungracefully climb out of the truck, pulling yourself over the door and almost busting your face in the process.
Brown eyes stay glued to you as you walk over to him, hips swaying in what he was sure to be a much more suave and appealing way than the dorky saunter you were pulling now.
...This was definitely a joke.
"Hey." You barely stifle through your amused giggling to speak, "Do you have a name or can I just call you mine?"
"Y/N!" Your friends groan loudly from the car, watching you attempt to work your magic.
He looks you up and down, trying to figure out if this was some strange attempt to mock him or if you were actually coming onto him, the latter making his face flush pink at the idea.
"Thomas!" His mother steps out of the shop, poking her head out to look at the two of you, "Come help me put this stuff up."
He isn't sure if she really needs help or if it's a feeble attempt to get him out of the situation, and to be completely honest, he's not really sure he wants to leave.
But his mother says she needs help, so he stands from his chair, rising to his full height, something that would cause most people to take at least a small step back, but your smile only seems to grow as you stand in place, clearly checking him out as you look him up and down.
He starts to ignore you, heading back inside, only to hear the wooden floorboards creak behind him as he reaches the counter.
He looks back, a confused look on his face as he sees you following behind like a lost duckling.
"Don't mind me," You wink, "My mama just always told me to follow my dreams."
He huffs in amusement at that, shaking his head.
Maybe your pickup lines weren't all that bad.
...
As time goes on, and the more he gets to know you, the more he's going to find your flirtatious advances amusing and endearing, but if you don't make it very clear from the beginning that there's actual feelings behind your remarks, he's going to assume that they're just jokes and you're not actually into him.
He's a big romantic, he'll catch feelings rather easily the more you flirt and tease him, and if he isn't 100% sure that they're more than just jokes, he'll eventually grow to resent them because he feels like he's being teased, even if you have no idea he has feelings for you at all, so communication (while a big deal in every relationship) will be especially important if you're a flirtatious person.
#is this cat calling?#maybe#but thats okay#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt x reader#thomas hewitt x you#thomas hewitt x y/n#thomas hewitt x s/o#slashers#slasher fandom#slasher x reader#slasher x you#slasher x y/n#slasher x s/o
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movie night (jess mariano x gilmore reader) ♡.｡.:*
a/n: just letting you know before you read, i wrote this at like 10:30, i was super tired and i did not proofread 😭 i’m just trying to get this out tbh. also this is kinda just bc i may not be able to get out chapters 5 and 6 for iwmflyb this week. ik it’s not billy but maybe i’ll do something for him tmr
wc: 1.4k
“rory! where’s my white sweater?” you yelled to your sister. you walked out of your room and ran downstairs to her room. “can i give it to you tomorrow?” she asked with puppy dog eyes, pouting. you folded your arms in her doorway. “why tomorrow?” you raised an eyebrow. “dean’s coming over tonight.” rory told you , getting up from her bed. “hm, okay. as soon as prince charming leaves, i’m stealing it back!” you sassed. rory stuck out her tongue at you in which you did right back.
then a knock was heard at the door. mom forgot to get luke to fix the doorbell, so everyone had to knock for now. “coming!” you yelled. you ran out of rory’s room to the door. you opened the door to reveal a slightly messy jess. “oh, hey.” you greeted. this was very random. “oh, hey back.” he teased. he welcomed himself into your home and walked to the kitchen. “wait why are you here?” you followed.
he took off his jacket and put it on the back of a chair. “i thought we were hanging out today?” he stated, confused. “no, you’re coming over tomorrow, silly.” you walked over to the fridge and took out a chocolate pudding. “dessert before dinner? naughty, naughty.” jess joked. “shh.”
“your mom won’t mind right?” he questioned slightly nervously.
“mind what?” you replied with a mouthful of pudding. rory came out of her room in a rush but stopped in her tracks seeing jess. “um. what’s he doing here?” rory folded her arms and tapped her foot. “hello to you too. i’m great, thanks. how are you?” jess spoke sarcastically. “you guys are bad hosts.”
you ignored jess and turned to rory. “jess forgot that he was coming over tomorrow instead of today, ror.” you explained. “you mind of we change it to today?” he wiggled his eyebrows. “no! dean is coming over today and i don’t want you to ruin it.” rory whined. “how would i ruin it?” he responded highly offended. “yeah, please tell us.” you quipped.
“by being… jess!”
“now that’s a great answer if i’ve ever heard one.” you giggled. “i mean it though, dean doesn’t like him, he doesn’t like dean. you see the pattern?” she tried to convince you. “oh hush, you.” you silenced her, turning to face jess. “sure, you can stay. as long as you bring us the goods from Luke’s.” you ordered, standing taller. “i’ll go get them right now.” he winked.
rory rolled her eyes as soon as he left. you put your spoon in the sink. “why are you being so mean today? you’re friends with him!”
“okay, i’m sorry, but dean really doesn’t like him. i just don’t want him to ruin anything between us.” she confessed. “MOMMY! RORY’S HAVING BOY PROBLEMS!” you yelled very loudly. “shut up!” rory grinned, laughing. “NO IM NOT!” she yelled back upstairs.
the thudding of lorelai’s loud boots was heard as she ran into the living room. “spill it, sister.” she sat down excitedly. rory turned back to you. “he’s bringing Luke’s! i think it’s a pretty fair deal. and it’ll be like a double date!” you reasoned. “oooohhh. a double date!” lorelai’s eyes shone brightly like a cartoon character. “well fine, but what am i supposed to tell him? ‘oh, hi dean! do you mind if your least favorite person on earth joins us for our very romantic date tonight? thanks!’” she overdramatically acted out.
“ooh, ooh, i’ll be dean!” lorelai turned her chair. she furrowed her brows and her voice changed to a deep tone. “oh no way, rory, i repeat, NO. WAY.” you giggled at your mother’s impression.
“he doesn’t sound like that!” she tried to hide it, but rory couldn’t help grinning. “just don’t tell him.” you simply put. you nodded while rory scoffed. “whatever you say.” she walked back into her room. lorelai looked at you.
“she seems excited.”
the first knock of the night was heard at 7pm. “knock knock!” rory went running to the door hoping it was dean first. but she was disappointed as it was jess instead with a box. “food!” rory cheered, grabbing the box from him. “thanks.”
jess closed the door and stepped inside. you were spread on the couch with a soft blanket on top of you. he walked over to where you were and bent over to kiss your head. “someone looks cozy.”
“i am.” you grinned. “what are we watching tonight?” he asked sitting on your feet. “Donna Reed!” rory yelled from the kitchen. jess rolled his eyes smiling. “that’s not a movie. this is supposed to be a movie night.”
“whatever. she still deserves to be seen.” you sat up and leaned onto jess’ shoulder. “dean says he’s gonna be here in five minutes.” rory announced walking into the living room with a bowl of popcorn. “ooh, ooh!! you should hide and scare him.” you giggled mischievously.
“no, that’s a terrible idea. that’ll make it even worse for him.” rory sympathized. she wasn’t wrong, dean would probably get super mad. “fine.” you shrugged. it’s alright, there will always be next time!
the second knock of the night was heard a few minutes later to which rory got up to answer the door. “hi, dean.” she leaned up to kiss him. he walked in and gave her the tub of ice cream. “what flavor did you get?” you asked him, shouting.
he chuckled and walked into the living room. “hey-“ he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw jess’ face staring back at him. he turned to rory. “wh- is this some kind of joke?” you could see the anger starting to rise.
“y/n wanted him over tonight. he said he’s going to behave.” rory soothed, handing you the ice cream and sitting down on the couch. his mouth formed a straight line when jess gave his little wave.
dean walked over and sat next to rory with his arms crossed. you gasped. “neapolitan!” you cheered. jess grabbed a spoon from the table and dug in with you. “what are we gonna watch?” dean questioned, taking some popcorn. “donna reed.” you and rory answered simultaneously.
“what’s that?” he manspread on the couch. “i’m sorry, what? you’ve never seen it?” you exaggerated, putting a hand to your heart making jess grin. “that’s a sin.” rory gasped. “that’s a cruel statement.” you quipped.
“so it’s like a show?” he asked, smiling softly. he was slightly nervous with jess being here. part of him didn’t know how to act. “it’s more than a show. it’s a lifestyle!” rory boasted and turned to you. “it’s a religion.” you pointed with your spoon and a mouthful of ice cream. rory nodded with you.
“oh jeez, can you put it on already? i’m dying over here.” jess groaned dramatically. you stuck your tongue out at him and pressed play.
“bye dean!” you waved goodbye after watching a few episodes of the great donna reed. rory was quite upset, though. jess fell asleep on the couch while you guys were watching so you decided to leave him there for a few minutes to talk to rory privately. “how could he like that kind of stuff?” she whispered. “i think he just meant that the idea of a wife cooking for her husband is nice.” you reasoned.
“but i don’t think he understands the time period. what it was like for women at this time, you know?” she continued whispering. you nodded your head in understanding. you think she was being a little extra, but you kept that to yourself. “i’m tired i’m going to sleep.” rory kissed your cheek and walked to her room. “nighty night!” you whisper yelled.
you crawled onto jess and he shifted over slightly. “jess,” you shook him slightly. “wake up for a sec, babe.” you needed to quickly make sure he was allowed to sleepover without luke going into a frenzy before you could sleep comfortably.
you could hear him awakening from his slumber. “yeah, what’s up? you okay?” he sat up quickly. “i’m alright, are you able to sleepover?” you asked, rubbing his arm. he nodded and laid back down, bringing you with him. he stroked your hair as you covered yourself with the blanket. “goodnight!” you kissed his neck before snuggling into him. “goodnight y/n.”
you sat up all of a sudden. “my sweater!” you whisper-yelled out. “huh??” jess hummed. “i need to get my sweater back from rory!” you got up and ran down the hall to her room, slamming her door open. jess chuckled to himself. “I WANT MY SWEATER BACK!”
#jess mariano#donna reed#that damn donna reed#gilmore girls#gilmore girls x reader#y/n#jess mariano x reader#jess x y/n#jess#movie night#lukes#dean forester#rory gilmore#lorelai gilmore#drabble#y/n gilmore#𝓳𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓷𝓸 ☕️
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DP x DC Prompt #7
Robin is heretofore thought to be alone when he swings his katana behind him, almost catching the Adam's apple of his mother's new lover.
"Whoopsie!" Danny says, taking an agile step back, as if Robin's slice was a slip of the hand rather than a deliberate and likely fatal attack.
"What are you doing here," Robin demands, mask hiding the momentary widen of his eyes. No one sneaks up on the heir of Batman, least of all his mother's latest toy.
"I wanted to chat, just you and I," Danny says, as if they are standing on a sidewalk and not the rooftop of a forty floor building in the dead of night, Robin in full costume. "I know you were kinda caught off guard yesterday night."
"I was not caught off guard."
This is a lie. Yesterday night when Talia had appeared at the latest Wayne Charity Ball as the date of Daniel Fenton, an up-and-coming name in renewable energy, Father's dumbfounded look had been nothing less than genuine.
And even the Annoyance had choked on his non-alcoholic champagne when Talia had instructed Damian to greet his "new stepfather".
"Talia," Danny had said levelly, running a hand over hers placed delicately in the crook of his arm, "Remember how we were going to break this gently?"
"Darling, Al Ghuls do not require a gentle break," Talia had replied.
"What is happening," Tim had quietly muttered, squinting at the contents of his glass suspiciously. "What."
Tonight Danny is as calm as he was the previous night, looking amused if anything. Damian resists the urge to take another swing at him. Mother would probably not like that. Danny's affections towards her had seemed quite genuine, his eyes often on her with a light Damian reluctantly recognized from Grayson's many dalliances. And dare he say it, Mother had seemed to reciprocate.
"My mistake. Still," Danny says, "I was hoping to speak with you alone."
"I do not require another father," Damian says promptly. This is true. He already has a father, and a Grayson, and the other annoyances, and Alfred. "And you should not be speaking to a...minor...without their guardian present." He does not like saying this, as he is fully capable of being his own guardian, but Dick had been adamant once updated by Tim and Barbara that should Damian come in contact with Danny alone he was to say as such. He had extracted a promise from Damian after a high-pitched lecture via video call going on nigh an hour. Damian had been waterboarded, twice, and would have preferred a third time to one of Grayson's seminars on "stranger danger" and "parental custody". It had prevented him from going on patrol with Batman, who had left shortly after the gala, presumably to meet with his mother.
Batman had not succeeded, returning without a word. Red Hood, cackling, had pulled up behind him to congratulate Damian on his new "daddy" and loudly tell Oracle how Bruce had gotten an eyeful. An eyeful of what, Damian wasn't sure, and asking only made Jason laugh harder and Dick yell from the Batcomputer.
"Good thing I'm speaking to Robin, then," Danny says with a grin. Damian updates his mental file on the man to less of a goody two-shoes than previously thought. "And like I said last night, I'm not here to overstep."
"Then?" Robin asks crossing his arms.
"You and I are a lot alike, actually," Danny says. Despite the chill of the night, wind whipping at his hair, he seems very comfortable in his t-shirt and jeans.
Damian scoffs and Danny holds his hands up.
"Okay, I deserved that one. What I mean is, and bear with me here, I had a lot going on when I was your age, and my parents weren't always super...present. Their work kept them pretty distracted as we got older and more independent."
The background check they'd run indicated Danny's parents were scientists, his sister a therapist and women's self-defense instructor. The man himself had nothing remarkable on his record beyond a public intoxication charge in his early twenties, but that hardly meant anything. Talia Al Ghul's public record was nothing short of exemplary, one of the many facts that had made the judge reluctant to grant Bruce full custody.
"And listen, I know the way I was raised in the midwest is vastly different from your upbringing, and comparing the two would likely be condescending and a disservice to you, but I also know that while I liked my independence, I wish I had been able to talk to my parents more when things got tough."
"I fail to understand what you are saying," Damian says flatly. "Are you instructing me to speak to my parents as you believe I am having a hard time? And your basis for this incredibly incorrect hypothesis is you were once a teenager whose parents were neglectful? Also, this is certainly overstepping."
Danny's smile is sheepish. "It is, isn't it?"
Damian turns to leave.
"What I'm trying to say," Danny says loudly. "Is that I intend to stay in Gotham. I have some things I need to see to here so I'll be here a while.
"And this is important to me because--"
"Talia will be staying." When Damian continues to stare at him blankly, he clarifies: "With me. Here. I mean, we definitely will go on a honeymoon at some point, even though I'm not sure we're actually married no matter what Talia says about that ceremony--"
"Tt. Grandfather will never let Mother simply galavant around."
"You don't need to worry about Ra's any more," Danny says, straightening. His voice is firm and certain. "He won't be bothering you or your mother."
"That's impossible," Damian says sharply.
"You can ask Talia yourself." Danny pulls out a card. "This is the hotel we're staying at. Room 805. You are right that you definitely shouldn't come without your father's permission, but if he's alright with it please feel free."
Danny takes a step closer, and if Damian's quick grip on his katana bothers him he doesn't show it.
"I mean it Robin. I'm not saying Talia's going to petition for joint custody, and I'll make sure Batman knows that as well. I just want you to know she's here. If you ever want to...see her."
He holds out the card until Damian plucks it from his hand with a growl.
"And also, Damian?"
"What?" Damian snaps.
"Your mom talks about you all the time. I think she'd like to see you too."
"Tt." Damian says, eyes darting down to the card. When they flick back up, Danny is gone.
Damian pulls a quick 360, sword drawn, but the man is nowhere to be seen.
"Robin," Batman says in his comm. "Need you on the west docks."
His comm line was open the whole time, he realizes, but Oracle is uncharacteristically silent. A further investigation shows no time has passed since Danny arrived at the roof. Only the card clenched in his fist indicates he was ever there.
"On my way," Damian says, sheathing his weapon.
Hmph. Of course. His mother is no fool, least of all in her selection of lovers.
Upon arriving at the cave later that night, Damian exits the clock at the rear of the group.
"Father," he says as he clears the threshold. "I wish to spend time with Mother and Stepfather at their earliest convenience. Perhaps tomorrow after school."
Everyone stops still, turning to look back at him. Tim pauses mid-stretch, Steph's jaw drops, and Cassie smiles pleasantly at him. Even Alfred, a tray of freshly baked cookies in hand, blinks at him.
Bruce's mouth opens and closes, wordlessly.
"Absolutely not!" Dick Grayson screeches from the other end of the hallway, dufflebag in hand. Behind him Jason grasps the doorway, doubled over in laughter.
#dick ain't no one bad touching my baby grayson#danny: I think it's important I meet your son#talia: why tho#batman#batfam#in case it wasn't clear bruce thought this was some sort of trap#then accidentally peeped on two newly wedded people getting it on#damian wayne#talia al ghul#danny phantom#danny fenton#dp x dc#dp x dc au#dp x dc prompt#I also subscribe to the concept where this is a diff dimension#danny's been alive for a millenia#and talia is sam reincarnated#puppy dog stepdad ghost god loves his goth assassin single mom gf#my writing
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Our Life
Pierre Gasly x Reader
Genre: established relationship, parents au!, dad Pierre
Warnings: angst, yelling, arguing
Word Count: 1.5K+
Author's Note: I realize this is probably the most I have ever posted here. and this is probably the first time I have two different 'on-going' stories out at the same time. well I had this idea for a while, except it was with Charles and I can't keep posting things with Charles man. but this concept works with Pierre so yeah. I don't think there will be a part two, unless you guys absolutely beg for a part two but there's a happy ending so yeah. also Idk if this is a fear for a lot of people or if im just being irrational, because its definitely a fear for me lol. anyway enjoy reading, pls let me know what you think.
------------------------
“If I want my son at the race then he will be at the race,” Pierre spoke loudly as he tried to get his point across to you.
“Pierre, he’s only 10 months, I don’t think a race track when cars are flying past is the best idea for him,” you matched Pierre’s volume, you couldn’t understand why he just wouldn’t get it.
“He can wear a headset, just like all the other drivers' kids do, I want my son at the race with me,” Pierre wouldn’t let it go.
“No Pierre, I don’t want him there, and I don’t want all the media with pictures of our son, we’ll be…”
“You don’t have to come this weekend, but my son will be there this weekend, nanny can come with him.”
“Pierre you’re not getting it, I don’t think that's the best environment for our son, right now, maybe when he’s a little older.”
“y/n what do you think is gonna happen to him?”
“I don’t know,” you shook your head at this point, “anything could happen to him, I don’t wanna risk it.”
Pierre sighed, running his hands through his hair, “he’s coming to the race this weekend, he’s my son…”
“OUR SON,” you shouted at the top of your lungs, cutting Pierre as the tears finally escaped you, “he is our son.”
The sound of the baby crying coming through the monitor stopped you from continuing on. You and Pierre both sighed, knowing that you’re shouting at each other is what woke him. “Let me…” Pierre spoke up first.
You waved your hand to dismiss him, “I’ll get him.” You quickly exited your shared bedroom with Pierre and made your way to the nursery, wiping away the escaped tears. Down the hall, before you entered the nursery you took a deep breath, calming your racing heart.
“Hi boy,” you spoke softly to the crying baby, picking him up. You held him close to you, afraid that he would be taken away. You closed your eyes, breathing him in, your perfect son. You cradled him in your arms, rocking him back to sleep. You watched him sleepily yawn, he had his father’s eyes. Eyes you loved very much.
“Dear,” Marta called out to you. Marta was an older woman that Pierre hired as a housekeeper to help around the house. Marta didn’t have any kids, her husband had died many years ago. She became a mother to you, since your mother wasn’t anywhere near.
“Marta,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, did me and Pierre wake you?” Because it’s only Marta by herself, Pierre had her move into the downstairs bedroom, it’s especially helpful when Pierre is away during the season.
“Don’t worry about me, I can sleep plenty when I’m no longer here,” Marta smiled, taking a seat next to you in the nursery, “what’s bothering you?”
You shook your head, as you smiled at your little boy in your arms, “Pierre wants to take the boy to Monza this weekend, and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“That’s not it,” Marta said, as she gave you a look. A look a mother gives when she knows her child is lying.
You felt the tears begin to well in your eyes, “he’s our son.” You whisper into the night, like the words are a sin. You look up at Marta, meeting her kind eyes, her eyes telling you to continue you on. “He’s our son,” you speak a little louder, as the tears fall, “he’s not just Pierre’s son, he’s my son too.”
“I see,” Marta hums, nodding her head, “and? Why does that bother you?”
“He’s all I have left Marta.” You pulled the baby closer to you. “He’s all I have.” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You breathed him in, you burned this moment to your memories. You treat this as if it’s your last moment with your son. You opened your eyes looking at Marta, “He’s all I have. You know, when I got pregnant, it wasn’t planned. It was an accident, me and Pierre had only been together for just under two years. But we said we were gonna do this, we were gonna have this kid and raise him together. Pierre makes more money than me.” You took another deep breath, trying to gather all your thoughts. “I had a good job, a place of my own, but there was no way I could raise a child by myself, and I couldn’t expect Pierre to move. He lives in Milan because it’s best for his career, he was set up already. I gave up all that I had, so he could be in his son’s life, and maintain his career.”
“You regret that?”
“No, no, never, Pierre is so good with him. He’s such a good father,” you smiled at the thought of Pierre with the boy. “But I’m so scared Marta.” you felt guilty for even speaking your feelings aloud. “Everything belongs to Pierre. I live in Pierre’s house, I drive Pierre’s cars, I fly on Pierre’s dime, I am completely dependent on Pierre. We’re not married, I own nothing, all I have is this boy, and Pierre has all the power to take him away.”
“You think…”
“I know,” you spoke quickly, “I know Pierre wouldn’t just randomly kick me out, but that doesn’t mean I don’t fear the possibility.” You felt the hot strikes of your tears, “If Pierre doesn’t want me anymore, I won’t have anything. I have no money to my name, I have no job, no place to stay, I have nothing without Pierre. If he decides he no longer wants me, I have no way to support myself or go back home.”
“That possibility scares you?”
“It does, and everytime we argue, he reminds me of that possibility, by saying ‘my son.�� He’s not his son, he’s our son, our child. Both mine and his, our son, together.”
“Oh dear,” Marta sighed, as she stood, pulling you close to her standing figure.
“Is it wrong to be scared?” you asked as you silently sobbed, holding your son closer to you.
“No dear, it’s not wrong to be scared, it’s the world we live in.” Marta said, as she held onto you tightly, wishing she could take away your fears. She wondered where in her lifetime did she go wrong? Why do the women of today have the same fears as the women of before?
Little to your knowledge, Pierre had overheard your conversation with Marta. And he thought how could he be so stupid? How did he not realize how damaging his words were? How did he not realize the weight they carried? How could he allow this to happen? He mentally slapped himself over and over again for not realizing his mistake. Our son, the boy, was your’s and Pierre’s son.
-
“Pierre, where are we going?” you asked as you sat in the passenger seat, as Pierre drove.
“To do something I should’ve done a long time ago,” Pierre said, as he pulled into a parking garage.
“Isn��t this your lawyers’ law firm?” you asked, as Pierre parked the car.
“Yes,” Pierre answered, as he made his way around the car to open the door for you.
“What are we doing here?”
“You’ll see,” Pierre said, taking your arm, as the two of you walked into the building lobby. You silently followed after Pierre, as he made through the lobby, up the elevator and to his lawyer’s office. You watched him exchange a few words with the man behind the desk, before the two of you took a seat, opposite of the lawyer. “I’m sorry these changes are a bit spur of the moment, but it’s something I should have done a long time ago.”
“Since the house is paid off, it was actually really easy changes,” the lawyer spoke before setting down paperwork before you and Pierre. “I’ll just need you both to sign on the line, and initially at the tabs.”
“Pierre what is this?” you asked, picking up the paperwork before.
“I’m putting your name on the house,” Pierre said, as he signed his set of paperwork.
“What?” you asked, as you threw the papers back on the desk, as if they were burning your hands. “Pierre this is a big thing, that’s your house…”
“Our,” Pierre said, correcting your statement. The one word had you shutting your mouth.
“Huh?”
“Our house,” Pierre said, as he set his paperwork and pen down, “We have a son together, and our son needs a home. We need a home for our family. This house can be our home, together. y/n, I should have done this when you gave up everything for me, for our family together. I am sorry this is so late, too late, but I want it to be our home together. This is our life together, none of this mine anymore.”
You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face even if the devil himself appeared before you. You signed away at the line and initialed at all the tabs. You were so grateful that Pierre was willing to share his life with you. “You know, you could’ve just asked me to marry you,” you joked as you and Pierre made your way back to the car.
“I am, I’m just going to do it right,” Pierre smirked at you, “plus it actually doesn’t cost money to add someone’s name to the deed of a house, when the house is paid off.”
#formula 1#formula 1 au#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 angst#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 au#pierre gasly#pierre gasly imagine#pierre gasly x reader#pierre gasly au#pierre gasly fanfic#pierre gasly as a dad#alpine f1#f1 2023
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Eddie Calls Wayne "Dad"
{ i 100% wrote this for @friendly-jester because it was their birthday and THEY DIDN'T TELL MEEEEEEE!!! so yeah this happened for them! Happy Belated birthday day yet again dearest!!! }
The first time Eddie calls Wayne "dad" he's 7 years old. He wakes to this small boy, teary eyed and shaking, clutching the little stuffed black cat Wayne had won him at the fair the first month he'd been here. His little hand on Wayne's shoulder wakes him. Warm and gentle. Almost too gentle. Wayne knows it's because he's afraid Wayne will get mad. He's only been here a year and half, and he's getting better. But he's still skittish. Wayne clears his thoat of sleep and blinks up at the boy.
"What is it son?" He calls him that all the time. He knows Eddie's not his. But he is. He is to Wayne. He is now. Eddie sniffles, wipes at his little nose with the back of his hand and says,
"I h-had a nightmare Daddy." And he's crawling up onto the cot with Wayne before Wayne has time to open his arms for him.
He scoots back, makes room for the kid. Throws his blanket back and then coveres them both back up as Eddie snuggles into his pillow. He holds the little cat up to Wayne. Wayne kisses it's head, like always, and Eddie smiles a teary smile, holding it close. He's already almost back to sleep. Wayne rubs at his head gently. Soothes him. And lowers his head back to his pillow, hand resting on Eddie's small shoulder as he falls back to sleep as well.
Eddie doesn't remember the nightmare in the morning. Just asks Wayne if he missed him when he wakes up in Wayne's bed. Wayne laughs and says,
"Yep kiddo. Missed you so much I had to bring ya in here with me." And Eddie giggles, grabbing his cat and shuffling to his room.
But Wayne sees the look he gives him, a small sideways glance after the smile fades. Wayne's pretty sure Eddie remembers just fine. But he grew up, at least partly, he's not grown yet, in a house full of anger and secrets.
Wayne is sure Eddie is keeping things to himself because he doesn't want Wayne to have to worry. Wayne is also pretty sure that this boy is smarter than he could ever dream of being. He watches Eddie shuffle back out in his school clothes. Just a black t-shirt and black jeans. He rubs his hands over his eyes and pulls his shoes on. Sits at the table and eats the toast Wayne made in silence.
Wayne doesn't know what to say to him. Has never been much of a talker. So he sits silently too. And when he's finished he walks past Eddie, ruffles his hair, and asks him if he's ready for school. Eddie smiles brightly and grabs his backback, yelling something about how they're supposed to be learning about dragons today. Wayne is pretty sure he means dinosaurs, but Wayne had also been informed by a very stern Eddie that dinosaurs were just dragons without fire and wings.
~°~
The second time it happens is before the talent show. Eddie is nervous. Bouncing on the balls of his feet next to Gareth and Jeff as they watch the Cunningham girl do some cheer and gymnastics across the stage. Eddie is watching her, but Wayne can tell he's only half paying attention. Wayne clears his throat from behind them, grabbing their attention. All three of them turn, Eddie's face lighting up when he sees Wayne, he bounds into his arms.
"You made it!" He whispers loudly into Wayne's shoulder as they collide. Wayne catches him easily. His arms wraping around Eddie, he's still so small, Wayne's not sure he'll grow much more. He hopes not. His mother was small too. He wants Eddie to have that from her. He smiles tho, giving him a squeeze.
"Almost didn't. Traffic was a bitch on 75." Wayne mutters. Eddie pulls back with a laugh, holding Wayne's shoulders.
"But you made it."
"I did." Wayne nods. Eddie smiles. The Cunningham girl's act ends, the curtains close. She comes running in their direction, bumping into Eddie and turning as she runs, calling out,
"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! Good luck out there!" And then she dissappears into a group of laughing girls. Eddie mutters a nervous 'thanks', holding his guitar in his hand, his knuckles are white. Wayne grabs a hold of his neck as Gareth and the others help get there stuff center stage. Eddie's eyes are wide, there's fear, but also excitement.
"You're gonna do great. And I know this is a long shot for you, but try to stay focused." He winks at Eddie, gets that huge smile in return. Eddie's missing a tooth. He'd told Wayne it had just finally fallen out. But Wayne had seen the scrap on his face. Let Eddie have the lie.
Eddie holds his guitar close, moving it into position and jogs out onto the stage, calling over his shoulder,
"Thanks dad!" It's said without thought or realization. And then he's out there. And the curtains open, and him and his friends do their thing. And Wayne's not into the hard metal like Eddie is. But he likes the music his boy makes. Because as loud and scary as it may be to some people, his boy puts his heart into it. Like he does with everything. Wayne could watch him play music with his friends all day.
They dont win. But they hadn't entered to win. They just wanted to play on stage. Wayne takes them all out for pizza after. A few of their parents come along. The smiles on all their faces as they eat and shout and laugh warms Wayne's heart. Eddie had found these boys, like rescuing strays. Wayne could never articulate how proud he was, not in words, or any other way. So he just rests his arm on the back Eddie's chair, squeezes his shoulder and smiles back when Eddie beams at him.
~°~
The third time it happens. Eddie's a junior. He comes home dripping blood from his face. He storms past Wayne and shuts himself in the bathroom. Wayne can hear him sobbing. Hears him cursing. But he waits.
Eddie finally comes out of the bathroom. Stops in the hall. His shoulders hung. They shake for a moment. And then stop. He turns, his face bruised, his eyes glassy, but there's something in them, under the sadness. Defiance. He takes a step toward Wayne. Takes a deep breathe, and sighs.
"I'm a fucking idiot." He says, shaking his head. Wayne smiles a little, shakes his head.
"Now I know that ain't true. You wanna tell me what happened?" He folds the newspaper on his lap, throws it on the coffee table. Eddie swallows, hard, stares at Wayne. And Wayne can see fear in his eyes again. It's been years since he looked at Wayne with fear in his eyes.
"Go on. Ya know I'm listenin." He folds his hands in his lap, never looks away from his nephew. And Eddie, he does the thing he's best at, he throws Wayne a fucking curve ball.
"I'm gay. And I kissed a boy. The wrong one. Turns out. He said he was the right one. He kissed me back. This was..." Eddie crosses his arms defensively, looking toward the ceiling, thinking,
"Three days ago? And today he punched me in the face when I said hi to him in the bathroom. And then his friend punched me because I apparently I attacked his friend? Which I didn't." Wayne watches his hands fist in his shirt as he speaks, his arms tightening around himself.
"He said he liked me. I- I don't know what happened." His arms fall, he looks defeated. His chest shakes as he tries not to cry. Wayne stands, too quickly, Eddie flinches back. Wayne opens his palms, holds them out to Eddie as he moves closer. Eddie's trembling by the time Wayne gets his arms around him. Eddie sobs against him, clutching at Wayne, his fingers almost painful. Wayne tries to sooth him, moves his hand over Eddie's back slowly.
"He said he liked me dad. Why did he do that?" Eddie cries into his shirt. Wayne grimaces, holds him tigher. Fights the urge to leave Eddie here and go find this boy. Make him feel the pain he's caused Eddie.
"I don't know son. But hey, look at me." He pulls back, Eddie looks at him, reluctantly.
"He's an asshole if he doesn't know how good he's got it with you. Yeah?" Wayne says, watches so many emotions fly across Eddie's face it almost makes him dizzy. He settles on confused, maybe a little wary.
"You- you're not mad? Y-you don't hate me?" His voice hitches, and Wayne immediately shakes his head.
"Nothin. And I mean nothin, you could ever do, would ever make me hate you. You hear me?" Wayne grabs his shoulders, gives him a little shake, for emphasis.
"Mhmm." Eddie hums.
"Hmm?" Wayne hums back.
"Yes sir." Eddie sniffles, wipes at his nose. The same way he'd done all those years ago when he'd woken Wayne.
"Good. Now listen, cuz I want you to hear me okay?"
Eddie nods.
"Ain't nothin wrong with likin what you like. You just gotta be careful. And safe. Because people round here. They are small minded. And vindictive. And they will hurt you. But hey," he moves his hands to Eddie's neck, bending a little to look him right in the eyes.
"I am so proud of you. And your mama woulda been proud too. Okay? You trust me?" He frowns, hoping he'd said everything right. Said everything the way his mother would have wanted. Eddie's crying again, but he's smiling. He nods again, enthusiastically, his hair shaking wildly.
"You know I love you?" Eddie snorts.
"Yeah. Love you too." And then he's in Wayne's arms again. And Wayne just sighs. It wasn't like he hadn't seen it. The way Eddie would look at boys. But he never said a word. Knew Eddie would tell him if, and when, he was ready. And today was that day. He hugged Eddie closer and then pulled away.
"Pizza?" Wayne asks, already reaching for the phone.
"Uugghh GOD yes!!" Eddie groans, wiping at his face as he falls on the coach, Wayne smiles into the phone until there's an answer on the other line.
~°~
The fourth time it happens it's because Wayne is telling Steve secrets. Secrets that eddie had sworn him to go to the grave with. And then he breaks out the fucking photo albums, like some fucking romantic comedy. Eddie had told him he was dating Harrington about a week ago. Wayne told him they were having a family dinner on Sunday, so he could, and wayne smiles at the memory, "officially meet his boe."
Eddie had groaned at the choice of words, but his cheeks were red and his eyes were shining with delight. Wayne didn't know exactly what happened, but he knew the Harrington boy had saved his son. And he knew that he was always leaving Eddie's room just as Wayne showed up to sit with him in the hospital.
He wasn't always alone, but he was always there. And then he'd... stayed. Eddie talked about him constantly. To say Wayne was shocked that Eddie had fallen in love with a Harrington, would be an understatement. But he'd seen them together a few times, lingering glances, soft smiles, and on one occasion the dorkiest bout of laughter Wayne had ever heard come from Eddie. They were so different, but they worked.
So wayne was showing him the few baby photos he had of Eddie. Sent in the mail from his sister before she passed. One of them, his favorite, was of a four year old Eddie, sitting naked in the middle of a creek, holding a box turtle on the top of his head, his hair a curly mop, the biggest smile on his face. Wayne could hear his sisters laugh every time he looked at the photo. And he cherished it, knowing it was probably one of very few genuinely happy moments Eddie and his mother had had.
He happily points the picture out to Steve, who coos and cackles over it. Eddie falls to the floor dramatically, his face shoved into the carpet.
"Oh my gooooooddddd daaad! Seriously?!?" His voice is muffled, but Wayne hears him, smiles when Steve looks between them, Steve smiles back.
"You were so cute Eds!" Steve says gleefully, then he turns to Eddie, nugdes his toe into Eddie's thigh.
"What happened?"
Wayne laughs then. A real laugh. He laughs over Eddie's undignified squawking.
"Hey! This was supposed to be a nice dinner and now I'm under attack! It's two against one, suddenly, how's that fair!?" He flops over on the floor, looking up at both of them, crossing his arms over his chest as they both laugh at him. He's putting up a good front but there's a smile sneaking its way onto his face, and then Steve snorts while he's laughing and Eddie loses it.
All of them laugh together until they're red in the face. Eddie ends up with his hand curled around Steve's calf, Steve leaning over, his hand on Eddie's shoulder. Everytime the laughter dies down Eddie snorts, mocking Steve, and it starts all over again. Wayne laughs and watches the two boys in his kitchen, laughing and laughing and feeling at home.
~°~
It happens off and on with time of course. But the most important time it happens, for Wayne anyway, is in the Byers backyard in October.
It's 1989. Halloween day. And their backyard is decked out to the nines. But it's not Halloween they're celebrating. It's a wedding.
An illegal one. But no one attending cares about that. Not here. Not with everyone smiling, and Jonathan taking pictures. And the banner Will had drawn for them hanging against the side of the house, full of music, and bats, and dragons, and magic, and Steve and Eddie.
El tosses flower petels as she walks down the makeshift aisle, tossing them playfully above her head, Steve is waiting in front of the crowd, looking nervous in his tux. His suit jacket is black, but the shirt underneath is a bright, warm, yellow. He watches El with a smile, laughing when she tosses flowers over his head, letting them fall around him. She kisses his cheek and takes her seat, wiggling in next to Will. He smiles at her and takes her hand, giving it a squeeze.
And then the music starts. Some Dio ballad Wayne had heard a thousand times. Steve and Eddie had clamed it as their own. Eddie walks next to him, his arm looped through Wayne's, he's wearing a deep red suit, it's almost blood red, his shirt underneath is black, and the pants are jeans, deep red jeans.
Joyce had pinned his hair up on his head, loose, stray strands falling out around his head. El had made him a flower crown out of dandelions, Eddie had been wearing it since she gave it to him this morning. The yellow matched Steve's shirt perfectly.
Wayne looks at him as they walk, his smile blinding at he sees Steve. He looks beautiful. So much like his mother. And so, so happy. Wayne rests his hand over Eddie's on his arm as they walk towards Steve. Wayne smiles when Steve gives Eddie a little wave, wiggling his fingers as they move closer. Eddie giggles, it's high pitched and a little manic, and so Eddie. Wayne and Eddie stop in front of Steve and Hopper asks,
"So, who's giving the lovely bride away today?" He's wearing a gaudy Hawaiian shirt, his hair all slicked back, everyone chuckles, but Eddie sobers fast, turns to look at Wayne.
"He is. My dad is." He smiles, big and bright, and a tear falls down his cheek. Wayne wipes it away with his knuckle, his face feeling flushed from all the attention suddenly on him.
"Guess that's me." He mumbles. Steve and Eddie laugh.
"Take good care of him son. I know you will." Wayne says to Steve. Steve is already nodding. His hands wobbling at his sides and Wayne knows he's trying not to reach out to Eddie. Eddie gives Wayne a quick hug, whispers a sweet,
"Thank you. For everything." In his ear, and then he's stepping up to stand in front of steve.
There's tears. And laughter. Especially when Eddie pulls out a piece of paper and says,
"Let's see what Will came up with shall we?"
But the vows are his. Wayne knows. They're full of Eddie, his words, and his mind, his soul, and his heart. That big heart that Wayne fell in love with so damn fast.
The first time he'd watched little 6 year old Eddie pick up a bug that had gotten into the trailer and carry it outside, all the while telling the thing that it was gonna be okay, that he wouldn't hurt it. Wayne loved him so much.
But he also knew, the only other person who loved Eddie even close to how much he did, was, by some odd fucking miracle, Steve Harrington. And that's why, when Steve came asking for permission. Wayne immediately said yes. And when Steve mentioned picking out the perfect ring, needing it to be right for Eddie. Wayne had opened a box he hadn't opened in years, and he'd given Steve an old ring of Eddie's mother's.
He had planned on giving it to Eddie when he wanted to ask someone. But this was better. This was perfect. Steve had cried, and thanked him. And he'd asked Eddie to marry him three days later.
They were sitting on the roof of the trailer. Eddie was telling him stories about the stars. Steve had slipped the ring on his finger and given him a look. The watery smile Eddie gave him, along with the nodding, gave Steve his answer. He'd pulled Eddie into a kiss and that had been that.
Eddie had given him a ring a month later. A golden band, simple, with golden leaves etched into it. And on the inside. The words "my salvation" in black. Steve had cried. It was perfect. He'd saved Eddie. In so many ways. The most important one, obviously being... literally. But there were other times too. Recovery was hard. But Steve was strong. Strong for both of them.
So Wayne watches Max carry the rings down the aisle to them on a small black pillow, watches Hopper marry them. Watches them cry, and laugh, and dance. Watches Eddie dance with Max until they're both laughing too hard to stand up straight any longer. Watches Steve and Robin dance until they're crying into each other shoulders, Eddie and Nancy dancing near by, ready to jump in if they're needed.
He watches Eddie and the family he'd found. The family that loved him. The family he'd dragged Wayne into, weather he liked it or not. And for the most part. He liked it.
He watched his son dance with his husband, and smiled to himself, his attention only moving on when Ms. Henderson sits next him at the table, her hand landing on his arm, friendly and warm.
"You did a great job with him Wayne. He's such a good boy." Her eyes are a little teary as she watches Dustin and Eddie jump around and headbang to some metal song that's come on.
"Thank you ma'am." Wayne nods, his cheeks flushing. He reaches into his pocket, hands her a hanky for her tears.
"Oh! Thank you." Wayne's not sure if he's imagining it, but she looks flushed as well.
"I don't know of you remember me or not. But we had-"
"English. Fifth period. Mrs. Fitzgerald. I remember." Wayne says immediately. His eyes widening at himself, he clears his throat and looks away when she laughs.
She's about to say something when she hears Dustin yell for her. And then she's gone, being pulled onto the dance floor by her son. Wayne sighs, watches her dance until he notices movements in his peripherals. He turns a bit, sees Steve and Eddie, their arms wrapped around each other, looking at him.
Both of them nodding toward Mrs. Henderson and making faces, Eddie tries to break away to get to Wayne but Steve holds him back with a laugh as Wayne hold his hands up. He rolls his eyes at them when they nod toward her again, grumpy little faces telling him if he doesn't do it, they will.
He takes a deep breathe, puts his hands on his knees, and pushes himself out of his seat. He takes a step onto the dance floor, towards Dustin and his mother, and his next adventure.
#Fates Endless Inkwell#fei#steddie#steddie ficlet#long blurb#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#steddie fic#uncle wayne#wayne munson#eddie and wayne munson#my writing#mine#my fic#stranger things fic
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all american whore (e.s)
pairing: step brother!eric x step sister!reader
preview: your dad has just married eric's mom. but, you're not blood related so you should be fine to hook up, right?
tags/warnings: fem reader, handjob in the back of a car, oral (69 on the edge of a pool....), fingering, unprotected penetration (BOOOO), hickeys, breast slapping, pet names (angel, slut, cock whore), 4th of july celebration (and by celebration i mean orgasms for everyone), creampie
trigger warnings: STEPCEST!!!, like two mentions of reader having a dead mom
wc: 3.0k
song recs for this fic: american horror show by snow wife, all-american bitch by olivia rodrigo
a/n: i was so invested in writing this for like 4 days good lord
“you could at least try and be a little excited, y/n. sure, you’re meeting my new wife and her son today, but it’s also the 4th of july. it’s a celebration,” your dad says to you while driving. “whoopty doo,” you say as sarcastically as possible. you can feel him glaring at you without even looking over at him. “i know you miss your mother, but it’s been over a decade, i’m moving on.”
you lean your head against the window, the air hanging heavy between you and your dad. “i’ll be nice to them but i can’t promise i’ll like them,” you say, turning to see your dad crack a small smile. “i think you will like them, pumpkin. just trust me,” you nod as he speaks.
____________________________________
as your dad parks, nerves run through you. it’s finally hitting you that you’re meeting these people that your father intends to keep in your life forever. he walks up behind you and squeezes your shoulders. “you ready, kiddo?” he asks and you give him the most unconvincing nod ever.
you walk up to the front door and knock loudly. “you’re here!” a woman cries out as she opens the door. you assume this is your dad’s wife. “hello honey, this is y/n,” your dad introduces you and you give an awkward wave. “come in, come in. eric is just upstairs playing his video games,” she ushers you in and shuts the front door behind her. “you guys can just head out to the backyard, that’s where everyone else is,” she walks over to the base of the stairs and angles her head upwards. “ERIC SOHN GET DOWN HERE,” she yells.
you walk out to the large deck in the backyard with your dad and greet lots of people you’ve never met. you notice lots of things in the very large backyard. in-ground pool, hot tub, etc. your step-mom is rich. you settle yourself in a law chair by the pool with a spiked iced tea in hand. you’re soaking up the sun when you feel a presence next to you. you open your eyes and see a man standing there. “my mom told me i had to introduce myself to you. i’m eric,” he scratches the back of his neck and turns to yell to his mom on the deck. “happy now?” his mother shrugs. he walks away from you, clearly unhappy with your presence.
as the afternoon goes on, the family gathering becomes more lively. you’re sitting on the edge of the pool with your legs in the water when eric comes to talk to you again. he slips his shoes off and plops down next to you. “here because your mom told you to?” you raise your eyebrow at him and he shakes his head. “no, i came to apologize. i’m sure you’re in the same boat as me with our parents' marriage,” he swings his legs, creating small waves in the water. you sigh, your shoulders slumping.
“you wanna go up to my room? it’s quieter and we could watch tv or something,” eric nods towards his house and you give him a small smile before getting your legs out of the pool. you grab your sandals and follow him close behind. “y/n and i are gonna hang out in my room for a bit,” eric tells his mom and she gives him a warm smile. “have fun, kids,” she says. she shoots your dad an excited look as you two walk into the house.
as you settle into eric’s bed, you feel as though this is a very intimate space to be in with your step-brother. he puts on some brainrot show as background noise and sparks up a conversation with you. despite being invested in your conversation, you can tell there’s something else on his mind. the way his eyes dart between your own eyes and your lips brings butterflies to your stomach.
eric snakes his hand onto your bare thigh, your shorts having ridden up from adjusting to sit comfortably in his bed. he strokes your skin with his thumb like it’s second nature. goosebumps rise in the wake of the soft movements from his thumb. you look at him with doll-like eyes and he can’t seem to get enough of your appearance.
slowly, his hand snakes higher and higher before his fingers are teasing the stitching of your underwear. you can tell he wants to shove his hand in there and play with your wet heat. you know his fingers can feel how wet you’re getting. he shifts his arm a little bit so he can reach his pointer finger out to brush over your clothed clit. slowly, it gets harder for you to hold the conversation.
eric leans over to whisper in your ear, despite the two of you being the only people in the room. “can i? please let me make you feel good” is all he says to you and you honestly can’t get your head to nod fast enough. you’re not blood related so you should be fine to hook up, right? at your consent, he slips his fingers under the fabric of your panties and plays with your clit. small moans and whimpers escape your lips when he touches you. it feels amazing. his soft fingers on your skin lights your nerves on fire.
eric scooches closer to you so he can press kisses onto your jawline and neck. you tilt your head back on instinct, giving more access to the expanse of your throat. he slides his middle and pointer fingers into your wet hole, pumping them in and out slowly. your muscles clamp around his digits, desperate for more pleasure. “eric, oh my god,” you breathe out, your hand shooting down to hold his wrist while he fucks you. he holds your face with his other hand, making sure you’re looking at him while he fingers you.
your high creeps up on you as the tips of his fingers jab the gummy spot inside you. you arch your back as your walls throb around his fingers. “give it to me, y/n. i know you’re fucking close. cum for me,” he whispers in your ear again. you dig your nails into the skin of his wrist as you cum around his fingers. eric lets out a sinister laugh before pulling his fingers out of you. he brings his wet fingers to his mouth and licks your release off of them. as you’re about to say something to him, you hear your dad’s voice. “y/n! it’s time to go home!”
____________________________________
for the next 3 days, all you can think about is eric. was what you did wrong or immoral? it can’t be. you’re not blood siblings. the only thing bonding you is your parents’ marriage. unfortunately for you, you can’t help but want more.
today must be your lucky day because your dad has some amazing news for you. “we’re going on a little shopping trip with eric and my wife today. do you wanna go there in separate cars or take one car?” your dad asks, leaning on your doorframe. “we can take one car, it’s fine with me. i’ll sit in the back with eric.”
your dad gives you a warm grin, only happy that you’re getting along with your step-brother. he pulls out his phone to text his wife about your transportation decision. not even 10 minutes later, an suv pulls into your driveway. you rush to put your shoes on before climbing into the large backseat with eric. he pats the seat right next to him, despite the whole rest of the backseat being empty. happily, you oblige. the car is chilly and eric has a blanket over his lap.
it’s about a two hour drive to the biggest outlet mall near you. so you settle next to eric, watching a movie on the laptop he’d brought with him. about 20 minutes into the drive, you notice eric shifting around uncomfortably. you take a single glance down and you know exactly what’s wrong. he’s hard. so unbelievably hard. you can see it through the blanket.
“do you want my help?” you ask in a hushed voice. eric catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he nods. luckily, he decided to wear basketball shorts, so you have easy access. you pull the waistband of his shorts and underwear down just enough to get his cock out. you wrap your hand around it under the blanket and pump him slowly. he digs his teeth into his lip to suppress any sounds coming out. you run your thumb over the pink, dripping tip and he lets out a sigh. “you okay back there, hon?” his mom asks, seeming concerned. just as he’s about to open his mouth, you start pumping faster. “y-yeah, i’m so fine,” eric responds. his mom seems to accept this answer as she goes back to looking at her phone.
“the fuck is wrong with you?” he whispers aggressively. you give him a mischievous smile as your hand continues to work on him. you stroke him with firm, mildly swift motions. his hips buck to meet your hand’s movements and you can’t help but smile at his desperation. eric slides his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. he digs his fingers into the skin of your hip as his orgasm approaches. “right there, angel, fuck,” he squeezes his eyes shut as his cums, his hips stuttering. white ropes of cum paint your hand and forearm. as you bring your hand to your mouth to lick it clean, he shoves his cock back into his shorts.
____________________________________
after your shopping trip, your parents drop you off at eric’s house. you walk into his empty house and plop down onto the couch. eric stands in the doorway of the living room, watching you. “you wanna swim?” he asks, nodding his head toward the back door. “i don’t have a bathing suit,” you reply, smirking at him. “swim in your underwear.” you shrug, not really minding the idea.
you rise from the couch, walking past eric towards the back door of his house. as you walk, you drop items of your clothes on the floor. first you drop your shirt, exposing your back and your black bra. next, your shorts. they left almost nothing to the imagination anyway. your black panties hug your hips and ass in a way that almost sends your step-brother into a frenzy. you peel your socks off last, throwing them into a corner. finally, you reach the pool. you dive in head first, drenching yourself head to toe. “you coming?” you call out to eric, who’s been a statue since you started stripping.
you can barely see him from the pool but you can tell he took his slides off and threw his shirt somewhere in the room. he comes darting out the door, diving into the pool the same way you did. when he comes back up, he flips his hair out of his face. you’re holding onto the edge of the pool and watch his movements. he swims over to you, halting in front of you. there’s a moment of silence between you before he grabs you by the back of the head and crashes your lips together.
eric kisses you like it might kill him if he doesn’t. the kiss is sloppy and full of saliva. he kisses you like he’s been poisoned and your lips are the only antidote. your hands travel to his exposed chest, digging your nails into his chest. he groans against your mouth and the sound goes straight to your core. you wrap your legs around his waist underwater and he kisses you harder.
“i wanna fuck you, but not here. not now. let me taste you,” he whispers against your lips as if someone will hear you. you nod, but suddenly a better idea comes to your mind. “get out of the pool and lay on your back,” you instruct, also pulling yourself out of the pool. eric follows suit, doing what you told him to. you stand by his head and shimmy your wet panties off. you throw them onto the lawn before turning back to eric.
you put both feet beside eric’s head and lower yourself slowly, sitting on his face. his tongue almost immediately darts out to taste you and you fall forward, catching yourself with your hands on his hips. he wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your core further onto his face. with trembling hands, you push his shorts down his thighs. he lifts his hips to help you in sliding them off him. you lay your torso down and take his cock into your hands. you stroke it a couple times before spitting on the tip.
you take the first half of his cock into your mouth, already choking around it. he moans against your pussy, his hips bucking into your face. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it lightly. your knees fight to squeeze around his head but you don’t let them. you stroke the portion of his cock that you can’t fit in your mouth, trying to work an orgasm out of him. you bob your head up and down rhythmically. eric eases two fingers into you and they follow the same rhythm as your head.
your orgasm creeps up on you faster than you would’ve liked it to, but you can tell he’s close too. you pull your mouth off of him to let out a high-pitched squeal when he curls his fingers inside you. “ah, fuck, i’m gonna cum,” you exclaim, clenching around his digits that are abusing your hole. “me too, angel,” eric replies. his voice is so husky and strained that it almost sends you over the edge.
you manage to pump him a few more times before toppling over the edge. you shake above him, your thighs clamping down on his head. the noises you make as you cum send him into his orgasm. he releases onto your face and neck, causing you to flinch a little. you roll off of him, laying naked from the waist down on the warm concrete. when you sit up, you hear a car roll into the driveway. eric shoots up and give you an ‘oh shit’ look. you both bolt into the house, grab all your clothes and rush up the stairs. he barely closes his door before your parents open the front door. you can hear them talking and laughing about something but you’re too focused on how fast your heart is beating.
you collapse onto his floor, laughing about how close you were to getting caught. eric listens for the movement of your parents, trying to find out what they’re doing. relief washes over him when he hears them leave again. he turns to you to find that you’re moving to put your clothes on. “don’t you fucking dare.” he walks over to you and hooks his arms under yours, lifting you off the floor and onto his bed. you rest your body weight on your elbows and watch as he admires your body.
eric runs his hands up your thighs and spreads your legs for him. he pulls you so you’re almost hanging off the edge of his bed. “please, angel. let me fuck you. i need to know how that pretty fucking pussy feels,” it almost sounds like he’s begging you. your core throbs as he speaks. “please,” is all you can muster as a response. eric grabs the base of his cock, lining up with your wet hole. “god, you’re gonna be my fucking slut. right, angel? a whore for my, ngh, cock. gonna ruin you for everyone else. you’re only ever gonna want me” he shoves himself into the hilt before pausing.
your walls pulse around him, trying to adjust to his size. before you’re fully adjusted, he starts to thrust. his cock abuses your hole and it feels so fucking good. you wrap your legs around his waist as he uses you. “god, it’s like you were made for me. such a good cock whore. you’re taking me so well.” roughly, he pulls your bra down to expose your breasts. he slaps both of your breasts, leaving bright red marks. you cry out in pleasure, your back arching. “such a whore for your step-brother. what would your father say?” he teases.
he leans down and connects his mouth with the plush skin of your breast. he sucks on the skin, leaving a dark purple mark. he continues the same motions a couple more times, leaving your chest riddled in his love bites. “you’re fucking mine. you hear me?” he says, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. “say it. say it and i’ll make my sweet angel cum.” the idea of finally cumming makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“fffuck eric, i’m yours. i’m all fucking yours,” you cry out. your orgasm is right there. “good fucking girl. so obedient,” he slaps your chest again, leaving a bright handprint. “where do you want me to cum?” eric asks as his thrusts speed up and become sloppy. “inside, inside, god please inside of me,” you beg, your pussy clamping down on him. he chuckles at your desperation. he connects his pointer finger with your clit, rubbing it in circles. “cum. cum for me right now, slut.”
the combination of his words, his motions on your clit and his cock abusing your wet cunt sends you crashing over the edge. you cry out loudly, a string of curses erupting from you. he quickly follows suit, spilling his seed into your weeping hole. you both rest for a few moments, feeling his cum seep out around his cock. you wipe sweat off your forehead before looking at him.
“we can never tell our parents.”
© lomlhwa 2024
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If that's okay could i request it for Epel?
How to win the heart of Epel Felmier?
a/n: Thank you for requesting~~ Dear Readers, while I am not a native English speaker, I wrote this ff in the English-pronounciation (?) mindset that “Epel” and “Apple” sound very similar. If it’s not all that similar, may Reader be too obsessed with apples to have that selective hearing when it comes to Epel’s name or let’s blame it on the Harveston’s dialect, haha
Be a zealous apple lover.
You envy this boy’s name.
“Apple”? What a majestic word to be named after. The first time you’ve heard a woman calling someone like that, you remember stilling in place and whooping your head at a ten-year-old boy who yelled that he was coming.
And he… doesn’t look like an apple. Maybe you weren’t expecting a walking apple, nor a boy with red hair dressed in all browns, carrying a big basket of apples (and of course, eating one in the other hand) like a character created for a show whose audience is a tad younger than you, but none of the apples you know turn purple.
Never have you imagined someone with such a beautiful name would move so wobbly in snow, the sledge he dragged behind definitely too heavy.
The realization of how unfitting this name was makes you lose a grip on the basket of fabric you got from one of your new neighbours. Well, everyone here is “new” if you just came into this little village just three days ago.
That boy notices you. He must have heard the news because a flash of recognition paints itself on his face. You didn’t return a shy smile at the staring, even if you wanted to. You remember your cheeks prickling from the freezing wind when you bolted home as the apple boy looked like he wanted to say something.
“He doesn’t look like an apple,” you argue with your mother that night, as she kisses your temple goodnight.
“Maybe not. But I would have loved you two to be friends…” Your mother stops in her words as you roll your eyes at her and pout with all your might. She suppresses a laugh that you would take to your heart. “…But, maybe I should be glad he doesn’t resemble an apple at all? You would have fallen head over heels in love with him if he did.”
Yeah, your mother doesn’t need to look so happy as you grew agitated.
“I wouldn’t!” You protest loudly and bury yourself deeper into bed sheets even if your face grows hotter. Maybe of the embarrassment, maybe of the fury, but surely not because of the boy. “I would never fall in love with a boy like him. And I don’t want you to talk about this to anyone!”
You remember your mother’s eyes twinkling with utter amusement. “Yes, yes, all right.”
2. Challenge Apple to a sled race.
Maybe it’s the fault of far too many action films being aired on TV, yet the idea of being able to win anything a fight was stuck in your head.
Some limited part of your brain thought that, hm, Apple might just give up his name to you if you won in this town’s most famous activity: the Harveston’s Sled Race. It seemed only appropriate for you to pick something the boy must know, even if you had only got your first sledge barely two weeks ago.
“Ya… want my name?” Apple blinks as you grow irate when you repeat your offer once again. You remember rolling your eyes ostentatiously at him, and Apple huffing loudly at you. “What does it even mean, duh?”
He crosses his arms and glared at you. He has the advantage of being just a little bit taller than you, but thankfully, his The-Great-Seven-Better-Bless-Her grandmother never ceases to dress him in fluffy, puffy clothes, always in pastel colours; the cute pompom on top of his beanie and shawl in the adorable pink shade made him much less imposing.
“Whoever wins in this sledge race will be called Apple,” you repeat. Apple squints his eyes at you. “I like this name so much, you have no idea. Please give it up to me.”
“Oh.”
You have no idea why his face slowly turned red. If you knew better, you would have used this opportunity to tease him, but little you didn’t want to mock a newly met boy, even if you just threw down a gauntlet for his name.
“It’s a normal name….” He mutters, and before you can protest, he draws his eyes to you, somehow redeeming you speechless. “…But I’ll challenge you if that’s what you wanna do.”
Huh. You weren’t expecting him to agree so easily.
…Nor were you expecting him to glide on the snow with his sledge. He looked frail enough to not care about things like rides and thought that it would give you the advantage. It did not. Apple flew or used magic, or illusions because he rode so fast the snow beneath him barely left a trace.
That was some cool skill, even if you hated how awed you were.
It seems like you challenged the wrong boy because this one wins with ease.
“Sorry,” he says with flushed cheeks, and his deep breaths create little warm clouds in freezing air. He lays on the snow, and his fringe sticks to his forehead. He has won, and it was a tough victory yet a well-earned one. “I will still be the only Epel in this town.” He shifts his gaze on you. “So. What’s your name?”
Well, he is a (treacherous) winner. You give your name to him.
He smiles slightly, he repeats it slowly and goes quiet. You look over to see him open his eyes from reverie and bright lights dance in his eyes.
“It’s nice. I think it suits you well.”
3. Have some baking skills.
“Epel, dear. We’ll be having our little neighbour helping us this year’s festival, so please show how responsible can you be and teach [Name] how to prepare apples for the pies.”
Ugh. If only Grandma Marja wasn’t so kind, you would have been protesting more.
Apple looks at you and you frown slightly as he sighs at your sight.
“You again?”
And because Grandma Marja already left, you feel free to announce your displeasure with the situation as well. Sadly, there are no other kids your age in this village, so you are probably bound to accompany him for the rest of your whole life here as he’s your only peer.
“Unfortunately.”
Apple hands you an apron, before ordering you to wash your hands. Because the kitchen island is too occupied with other dishes and too high for any of you without a stool, you take a seat next to a coffee table that was impractically set between the salon and kitchen, leaving just enough space to create a narrow route from one room to another.
“Have you ever baked an apple pie before?” He asks and you shake your head. His brows furrow slightly as he thinks whether you will be a help here at all. “So, it will be a long day…”
He better not write you off before you can even start.
You cross your arms. “Test me first, complain later... if ever.”
“I’m not complaining. But we have a knife and a peeler. Oh, and it hurts if you get cut. You should take it slowly and be careful,” he adds and hops to the other room to grab a basket full of apples. He lays it between you two.
Apple doesn’t let you use a knife.
“I am older than you,” he says and takes an apple from you to cut it into even pieces. You don’t notice the skill he has to make careful cuts precise and clean, as you glare at him.
“Barely.”
The few-month gap in your age isn’t enough to stop you from insisting that you can do more complicated things than just peeling apples. That’s some arduous work, especially when the peeler doesn’t cooperate and the thin fruit’s skin gets stuck between the blades.
So, Apple, who couldn’t contain that last annoyed sigh, finally lends you a knife. He instructs you, but after several times that you tell him you know what are you doing, he hesitantly goes back to his work. You could feel a worried gaze at you nonetheless, and at one time you looked over your shoulder to see him staring at you.
And that’s when the knife slips from your hands.
You don’t scream, but a gasp and a sudden flinch gives you away.
“Aaaand that’s what I was saying,” he immediately drops the apple he was taking care of, and stands next to you, scrutinizing the cut. It’s not bigger than a paper cut, yet it’s a bit deeper and stings as much. You quickly hide your hands from him. “Go take your hand under the cold water. I will get some bandages.”
He gets some. He then orders you—” I am the older one here and I was right before, so I am in charge between us two,” as you were told—to sit on the sofa as he carefully wraps one bandage around your finger. The gesture it’s almost cute from him, but it doesn’t lift your foul mood at all.
“I made more trouble than I’ve helped,” you say quietly. Epel looks at you, a bit surprised.
“You sayin’ that this little cut is making you quit?” And now he has that stupid smile on his lips that makes your blood not boil, but warm up at least five degrees. “Awh, poor thing.”
You get up in a hurry.
“…I didn’t say that.”
“Then don’t give up like that,” he chastises you, but he can’t hide a (still very stupid) smile when you pass him to get to the kitchen counter. “But be more careful from now. No one wants to eat a bloody apple pie.”
4. Get into NRC and survive a shock.
Over the years, you’ve become friends, close enough to plan to go to college together, if the opportunity arises. It did.
“Cheers!”
The perfect way to celebrate getting into NRC is with a soft drink, sparkling soda and a big plate of snacks. Although you bought chips for the occasion, your and Apple’s parents prepared a pile of homemade goodies and they couldn’t compare to those store-bought.
Your can clinks against Apple’s and you take a sip.
“It’s not like I ever thought of Night Raven Collage rejecting the best candidates ever,” Apple says with a sigh. Only today you can notice how stiff he was before; although he’d been playing it cool, he was tense all the time. “But that’s one burden off your chest.”
You nod in agreement and look at the acceptance papers once again. When a time will come, carriages with Gates will come for you two… And that’s a thrilling thought.
“This document looks so official,” you say. “What a pretty paper. It looks so elegant.”
Apple empties his can and briefly glances at you.
“Nothin’ special about it…”
And because you want to see the comparison (maybe there are hidden hints where you might be allocated to by the Dark Mirror?), you take his document. The first thing that crosses your mind, is that there is something wrong with his name.
“Wait,” you shriek loudly, and Apple shudders from surprise. He would chastise you for screaming so loud if you didn’t look so worried. “They spelled your name wrong!”
“Huh?” Apple feels a pang of horror, the same you feel when you tap your pockets in search of your phone. As if he found it, once he reads the top of the document again, he relaxes. His lips form into a thin line: he thinks you are pranking him. “No way. Everything is correct.”
“No, look here. Your name, Apple!”
“It’s… Correct.”
“E- P- E- L. And your name is A- P- P- L- E, no?”
“…What?” Epel, not Apple, looks surprised but not as surprised as you. “You thought my name was ‘Apple’ for all those years?!”
You bite your lip to not question it. Is it not? Your cheeks burn from embarrassment, and your heart feels heavy as if you have just betrayed your best friend. It never crossed your mind to have him write down his name, and there wasn’t a reason for him to do so: in this small town there is no school, neither are there the tests you need to sign.
“…I’m sorry.” You stutter, and Epel brushes the crumbs off from his blouse and gets up.
“Goodbye,” he says, making his way towards the door. He doesn’t seem that upset over the whole thing, as much as confused. Tomorrow everything will return to normality, but Epel will have a top-tier teasing material for years. “That’s too many revelations for today.”
“Wait, Epel!”
“Go to ya Apple boy.”
“No!! I said I’m sorry!”
5. Get sorted into any dorm but Pomefiore.
“Stop laughing.”
“I can’t…! Ha…”
You take a big breath to calm yourself down, but once you look up at Epel and his grimace, it’s impossible to not burst out laughing so loud and so breath-taking you drop to the floor. Epel nudges you. You might be in his room, yet he knows if he’ll be too loud, someone will come to shush you two.
And maybe they will punish him, but Epel isn’t familiar with Pomefiore’s customs, so he doesn’t know what to expect.
“How come you got sorted into another dorm, while we are practically the same?” Epel mumbles, lying down on his bed. The sheets are heavy yet comfortable, luxurious like the whole room. It feels like a museum here, where each item is more valuable than your life and you need permission to rearrange the interior.
To Epel, Pomefiore is the worst dorm. He remembers you teasing him about getting sorted to Pomefiore, but neither of you thought it would come true. It’s too stiff, too restrictive and cares too much about appearances. Epel’s heart feels heavy at the thought of the next four years here.
“Maybe Dark Mirror doesn’t sort the dorm judging by the alikeness of two last brain cells but the shape and colour of the soul,” you nudge him back, waking him up from his reverie.
“Or maybe it didn’t get any input of brain cells from you.”
“Well, your desire to be the prettiest boy in the town got to it, so I think it functions well.”
You chuckle at the dead glare he throws you.
Epel finally sighs.
“…I would like to change the dorms.”
“I don't know whether the Dark Mirror accepts complaints,” you tease him. The gloom is abruptly replaced by irritation, and that’s nice. An angry Epel is better than a devastated Epel. “But if you ever want to escape for a while, you are welcome in my room. We can have a sleepover whenever you want.”
“…Thank you.”
5.5. Sorted into Pomefiore exception.
“You ain’t elegant at all, though.”
“It seems like my elegance bleaks in comparison to yours, pretty boy.”
“You are blind.”
Epel tries to push you away, but you sidestep while giggling. He glares at you, and thankfully, his eyes don’t seem that sad. When he returned to his seat after getting sorted to Pomefiore, he looked bewildered, as if he suddenly wasn’t in the NRC he dreamed of but some other, less-dreamlike school.
You remember him blinking back tears, but maybe not from sadness—thankfully, Epel doesn’t pity himself—but melancholy, as if he just lost something he didn’t even have. Maybe also fury and confusion.
“It will be fun to stay here together,” you prompt, and Epel sighs but a trace of a smile appears on his lips. Thank Great Sevens for the little lights that brighten the azure tones in his eyes.
“Guess I’m stuck being your neighbour forever.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“No?”
“Of course not. You already know how great friend I can be.”
“…I guess you’re right,” he sticks out his tongue. Vil will have a lot of work if he wants to make him a fine gentleman. Well. You will take any version of Epel, even the pettiest and most teasing one, so it’s Vil’s burden to bear. “Kind of.”
You pout at him, but a quiet smile breaks your coolness. “So petty.
6. Listen to your manly man complain about Vil.
After several weeks in NRC, you could tell Epel still hasn’t gotten used to Pomefiore, and especially its leader.
“I can’t handle him pointing out each… well, everything!” He hides his face in his hands and sluggishly rubs his eyes; he looks tired enough even if Pomefiore must have those eight hours of sleep every night mandatory. “He would find wrongdoings in the way I breathe.”
“I would too. You don’t breathe as much through your nose as you think you do. That’s so very unhealthy, Epel. Your skin will be ruined in the next week of running.”
Epel throws you a warning look as if you had hit the nail with your talk. “Stop or I will strangle you with a pillow in your sleep. I already have Ace on my list.”
You chuckle at a threat, and Epel rolls his eyes. “How dramatic.”
“I have enough drama in my life,” he continues, and you can feel from his tone that he either suppresses the sigh. No apathy or fury anymore, though. Pomefiore must be slowly growing on him, and you take it as a good sign. “My two upperclassmen are going to be a death of me. I don’t know how could I end up in Pomefiore. This kind of lifestyle doesn’t suit me.”
“You complain about them a lot, but, in reality, you look up to him, no?” You tease. “Even you can say the beauty he possesses is influential and somewhat powerful.”
“He might look majestically but it doesn’t make him any less annoying. Now, let’s stop talking about him.”
“Why not? I might become Vil Schoenheit’s fan.”
He clasps his hands on your mouth, so you have to fully focus on his glaring.
“You can’t. You are my fan.”
You pout but after he takes his hands off you, a lopsided smile cracks your lips. “I guess you’re right.”
7. Argue, duh.
That’s a hobby of you two, although a risky one. It always leaves a weight on your heart, because you cannot not care for Epel. While jokes and sarcasm are never intended to hurt any of you, and you can almost always distance yourself from teasing comments, his every word is precious to you.
“Don’t be a killjoy,” would make you roll your eyes if Epel didn’t look so serious. Your smile falters, and something in your stomach twists. You know this conversation was going to end in an argument even before he glowered at you.
“Hey, don’t say it like that,” you stutter the words, placing a hand on his arm. It would come as a reassuring gesture, yet Epel made an effort to move a seat away, and your arm fell aimlessly, sadly. “I am just worried about our grades. That have. Uh. Dropped marginally.”
You stare at your shoes because listening to your best friend being displeased with you so greatly is heartbreaking.
“We have the whole weekend ahead of us to study,” he argued. “Be serious. You don’t want me to go, because you weren’t invited, isn’t that so?”
You sigh. You’ve never expected to be invited to each of their meetings: they are Epel’s friends, and you have yours.
While you knew Ace and Deuce were delightful company, you always thought Epel would choose you over them, even if you suggested something as unentertaining as studying because you would do the same.
You were wrong, after all. Maybe that’s the difference of willpower between a just-a-friends mindset and having a crush on him. Do you really have a crush on him, though? Or maybe you’ve expected too much from a childhood friendship.
“Well, no. I mean, I would love to be invited, but—”
“We don’t need to hang out together every time we have a spare afternoon,” he said, and while it was a true statement, it hurt. If you weren’t able to somehow steel your nerves, you would know you wouldn’t be able to bear the prickling in your eyes. Epel’s next suggestion comes as a whisper. “Sometimes… We should take a break from each other, ya know? And I need to figure, uh, something out.”
The news shocks you so much, that you don’t notice how he visibly abstains from lifting a hand to his chest.
Well. You always knew you were a hopeless romantic.
“Breaks from each other, huh…”
You take in the phrase in silence. Epel takes this chance as an opportunity to gather his things and pack them.
“…I’ll be leaving. Good luck studying or whatever.”
“…Alright. Have—” fun, you wanted to say, but the door shut and Epel left you alone.
8. Go through the silent treatment phase.
After a week of awkward conversations, Epel has forgotten about that talk. The pain in your chest dulled and you were growing indifferent as if you were watching a show—your life—that started to bore you, not engaging you at all.
You stared blankly at the screen of your phone.
— today —
Epel: Hey
Epel: are u free todya?? you’ve been so absent last weeks >:((
Epel: Grim and prefect invited us for gaming night
Epel: dont ya DARE do skip it again
— seen: now —
…Yeah. You feel nothing, maybe only a little sad at the memory when you felt so vivid and happy when you got a message from Epel.
“No, sorry, I am busy with studying lol,” you type, and while you know that excuse will wear out in the next few days, for as much as you’ve been using it for the last week to avoid hanging out with Epel, your (ex-?) best friend starts to type something. He will protest and argue and try to convince you, but you don’t want to talk today. “Maybe next time.”
So you turn off your phone, sinking deeper into the pillows on your bed.
You don’t have the energy to confront Epel right now.
And that’s it.
…
You fell into a slumber deep enough to not hear the hesitant-turned-frantic knocking to your room.
9. Let Epel hear the advice of unreliable gurus of love.
They are really unreliable, look messy, and they judge you. The worst kind of people to go for (love?) advice, but Epel assures himself that he needs honesty, not a pat on his back or a shoulder to cry on. He also is out of other options.
Moreover, he would like to cry nowhere near Ace, who would obviously mock him. Even now it’s hard to have a heart-to-heart conversation when he and Deuce chomp on some type of dessert and some awfully happy music from videogame plays in the back of the room. “So? What did you do?”
“Ace,” Deuce is kind enough to elbow Ace in the stomach when Epel’s stoic expression falters.
His shoulders drop. “No, he… He is kinda right.”
Ace throws a winning smile but moves too far away from Deuce to have him punch him for the cheekiness. “’ Kinda’?”
“…Totally right,” Epel finally admits. “[Name] has been avoiding me and I have no idea what should I do,” He throws his arms on the table, and almost hides his face in the palms of his hands. Instead, he moves away the strands of his unruly hair. “Ugh. Why I am even asking you guys to help me? You’re even worse at this kind of thing.”
“Speak for yourself. And Deuce,” Ace cuts him off. And before Deuce can do anything else than glare at him, Ace shifts closer to Epel and throws an arm over his shoulder so he has to hunch. “Epel, question: what is “this kind of thing”. You mean… as in friendships or dating?”
Deuce looks shocked, even so more than Epel. “Dating?!”
“Why are you even so shocked?” Ace asks him, furrowing his eyebrows. When Deuce starts to ponder over his words, he rolls his eyes. “[Name] probably have had a crush on this imbecile”— he points his fork at Epel—” for damn years now, if I had to guess”.
“Years?!”
“Thank you for the dramatic echo effect again, Deuce,” Ace snarls and finally focuses on Epel. Too distracted with a bickering between his friends, his spirits lift up a little. “And you, Epel. Pull yourself together. Do you want to sever the relationship? Do nothing. Do you want to be friends? Apologize to [Name] and try to patch the bond. Do you want to be in a relationship? …Welp, figure out that for yourself.”
…
“Amazing advice, Ace,” Deuce claps his hands theatrically.
He sticks out his tongue and winks. “You could never give a better one.”
Epel gets up from his seat.
“Thanks, you two. I… will do something.”
“Good luck,” Ace waves at him as Epel makes his way over to the door. “If it works out, you owe us a free drink. Especially me.”
10. Have Epel fight for your love!!
It’s hard to find someone when the person knows your schedule and actively tries to avoid you. Choosing more roundabout corridors and sacrificing your wallet to have most of your meals in Monstro Longue instead of the cafeteria are only some of the things you did to avoid encountering Epel.
But he didn’t give up, and maybe his tenacity is what makes you oblige Epel once he finds you.
You don’t question him when he grabs your hand and asks you to skip the last lesson with him that feels almost unimportant as his intertwined fingers warm yours. You don’t comment on how his grip is stronger than usual and how he doesn’t let it go when your hands begin to sweat.
But as you leave the main building of NRC, the curiosity gets the better of you.
“Where are we heading to?”
Epel looks over his shoulder to blink at you. “I…,” he stammers, as confused enough to leave you wondering what is your final destination. Or what was your final destination, Epel seems to have forgotten whatever plan he had in mind. “I guess it can be here.”
He ushers you into one of the side alleys, a bit distanced from the main street and sits you down on a bench. You eye him curiously as he slowly lifts his hands to your face—and that is the first time he let go of your hand—and cupped your cheeks.
“Let me be clear. I- really like you,” he said loudly, gazing into your eyes. “And I know I… overreacted earlier. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to avoid me.”
You breathe out slowly. The heat from the “I really like you” moment prickles and makes your face hotter. It doesn’t help that Epel doesn’t shift his gaze from you nor that he has his hands firmly on your cheekbones as he awaits your answer.
“I’m… sorry. I shouldn’t have been getting between you and your friends.”
Epel eyes you, bewildered. “Why are you focusing on that part?”
“Huh?”
“Ah. Maybe… I will phrase it differently,” He hesitates and his tone wavers, but he says the words without a stutter, as if he’s been practising them in front of the mirror, effectively. “I love you.”
“And I- I want to be friends even if you don’t feel the same.” He rushes with an explanation when you don’t answer as your mind goes blank. “Because. I don’t want you to… avoid me anymore. A-actually, you don’t have to rush with your answer. Just, decide, someday, in the near future, haha? I will wait.”
He glances at you and you know he won’t be able to bear long without hearing your answer. As he rushes past you, you think you heard a hushed whisper.
“Dear Sevens, I said it…!”
#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst#twisted wonderland imagines#twst imagines#epel felmier x reader#epel felmier#epel twst#epel twisted wonderland#epel x reader
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Hi it’s 🚬🎀 anon again, I gave you a break from writing these so you didn’t get too annoyed but imagine the angst of someone getting fed up with the fact that she still slightly wants her father’s love, so at one point someone just says something like “Your father doesn’t love you, stop hoping he will.” But they just keep laying into it and just keep going to the point of tears. Feel free to age her up slightly because honestly that is pretty harsh to say to a seven year old. It can be anyone from Velvette to even Husk if you want. But seriously, don’t hold back on the Angst because I feel like I’m about to fail my science class and I am desperate to feel anything but the crushing doom that is my impending lecture from my mother. Love your new pfp<3
Thanks, and I’m choosing Velvette because more angst :D
TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship, abusive behavior, abusive relationship, Velvette fucking lays into a seven year old, this is like…pre angel dust, Degrading and insulting a LITERAL child, tell me if I need to add more
Summary: How stupid were you to think that your dad would ever love you!? At least you can thank someone to give you a ‘reality check’
Velvette groaned, you were making another drawing for Valentino. Usually she could deal with it but you’ve been doing it over and over! It’s getting on her damn nerves now! She knows you want his love but she knows you’ll never get it either! He doesn’t love you! Yet being a child you have some hope. Yelling as she slammed her phone then looked at you.
“Y/N! He won’t love you! For fucks sakes! Stop hoping he’ll love you!” She shouted at you which made you flinch. You couldn’t say anything as she kept going. “There’s no use of making gifts for him! He’ll keep denying them! He’ll keep ignoring you! He’ll never give you any fucking love! Get that through your thick skull!” She stated very loudly. You were on the verge of tears yet held them in.
One of the demon assistants that liked you rushed over. “Come now little one…let’s go play” they softly said as they picked you up and rushed to your room. You held onto them tightly as you let the tears out. You softly and silently cried. The assistant rubbed your back and bounced you around a bit. As soon as you two got to your room they sat on your bed letting you cry.
#✉️mail arrived✉️#genderfluid enity answers!#yandere#please don’t do this#obession#unhealthy#platonic yandere#yandere platonic#🚬🎀 Anon#Valentino daughter!reader#Val’s daughter!reader#yandere hazbin hotel#female reader#fem reader#yandere x female reader#yandere x fem reader
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