#I have more of a mom purse than my mother ever did

[simplyghosting]

My family mocks my trash heap until they need my trash heap. Weep before my throne of broken wires.

[nataliasquote]

Double the trouble | Yelena’s day | n romanoff

Double the trouble AU

Summary: it’s finally Yelena’s turn to babysit the twins… a big responsibility for a usually messy Russian.

Age: 4

Warnings: none

wc: 4.3k

note: Double the trouble is back! The twins are back, and so is the cuteness. Sorry for making you wait so long!

-⧗-

“Mama’s got to go, Y/n.”

“Mama go, Y/n go!”

Why was she even arguing with a four year old at this point? Natasha was crouched by the front door, her work purse resting against her calf as she held onto a whiny four year who was pouting hard.

“Aunty Yelena is coming today, you’re going to have so much fun!” Despite how animated her voice was, Y/n was not impressed and she pushed herself further into Natasha’s arms, grabbing the collar of her suit jacket in her little fists. “Come on baby, please.”

“No!” Great. She was still in the ‘no’ phase, much to the moms’ disdain. “No Lena, only you!”

Natasha sighed and stood back up, absentmindedly smoothing over her daughter’s curls as she looked over to the kitchen. Yelena was going to be there any minute and Wanda was packing the last few snack items into her purse whilst Isla showed her a drawing she’d done for her favourite aunt. She was a lot more accepting of extended family members and had been babbling about Yelena’s visit for weeks… until Y/n threw a barbie at her head.

With a sigh, Natasha hauled Y/n up to sit on her hip and wandered into the kitchen with a soft smile at her wife who looked so gracious in her red summer dress.

“Any word from Yelena?” She asked, holding Y/n tight. “This one isn’t too happy we’re leaving.”

Wanda approached the pair and kissed her daughter’s head, laughing a little at her scowl. “Should be any minute now, I hope,” she replied. “Do you girls want a snack?”

“Fruit roll ups?” Y/n was now suddenly interested, her head lifting from the comfort of Natasha’s shoulder. Ever food orientated, she was.

“I want fruit roll ups too!” Isla chimed in, finally putting her markers down as she added the finishing touches to her drawing. “Strawberry one?”

“I’m sure I can manage that,” Wanda said as she turned around from the cupboard, two snacks in hand. Y/n wriggled out of Natasha’s grip and ran over, but not before Wanda instructed her to sit at the table like normal. Snacks were never eaten standing up in their house, it was the paranoid mothers’ number one rule.

Natasha checked her watch anxiously, watching her time slip away as she waited for her sister. Punctuality wasn’t Yelena’s strong suit, but as the clock struck ten, there was a loud knock at the door and Natasha was pulling it open before the twins could even react.

“Where are my munchkins?” The loud blonde announced, tossing her bag by the door and completely ignoring Natasha as she stepped inside. But the redhead was used to people bypassing her and Wanda to get to the twins, she knew how gorgeous her daughters were.

“Hello to you too… again,” Natasha muttered, more to herself than her sister who was too busy trying to call the twins as if they were dogs.

Isla was the first to greet her favourite aunt, her arms and legs flailing as she launched her small body at the blonde Russian, giggling as she was caught and spun around. Y/n was still chewing away at her snack but she watched their interaction from her seat, shaking her head at Wanda’s offer to go and see.

Y/n was bubbly until she was around anyone who wasn't her moms. Then she clammed up, often ducking behind her curls to avoid eye contact or hiding behind Natasha’s legs if she was close by. She didn’t trust anywhere near as easily as Isla did and was always the last one to approach.

“Y/n? Doesn’t Aunty Lena get a hug?”

Y/n’s eyes darted between her Mama and her Aunt, debating hard. With some reluctance, she slid off her chair and wandered over to Yelena, but only for Natasha’s benefit. The last thing she wanted was her Mama getting mad at her over not cooperating… again.

“What are you eating?” Yelena asked, gesturing to the small piece of food still clutched in the young girl’s hand.

“We had fruit roll ups!” Isla exclaimed, grinning widely at Yelena’s animated expression.

“No way!” Even Y/n was smiling now, waving her snack up at Yelena. “I loved them as a kid!”

Natasha smiled fondly at the scene in front of her. She knew how much Isla loved Yelena, she babbled on enough as it is, and she also knew of Y/n’s hesitancy. But seeing her now, almost completely out of her shell, talking over the top of her sister in an attempt to hold Yelena’s attention, Natasha felt pride blooming in her chest and she wished to capture this moment forever.

Wanda appeared at her side, her smile mirroring her wife’s as she took her hand. “Ready to go?”

Natasha nodded and squared her shoulders in her fitted suit jacket. “Yelena, we’re going to be late. Do you have everything you need? We’ll be back at 6, there’s lunch in the fridge, all you need to do is heat it up. And don’t let Y/n run too much because she has her heart check up next week- oh and Isla can’t have raspberries because she’s allergic so don’t-“

“Yes yes,” Yelena waved her off, effectively pushing her sister out of the door. “You worry too much, we’ll be fine, won’t we girls?” Isla cheered and Y/n copied, luckily too engrossed with her sister to notice her moms were leaving.

“If anything happens, I mean anything, call me and we’ll be back as soon as we can.” Natasha was a typical worried mother and she hated leaving her girls alone, even if they were in the questionably capable hands of Yelena.

“Nat, honey, they’re going to be okay,” Wanda tried to reassure, rubbing her hand up and down her wife’s arm. “It’s only a few hours and you need this deal to go through. You deserve it baby.”

Natasha bit her lip, watching the twins who were running around chasing each other in the hallway. She so desperately wanted to stay with them as much as she could before they started kindergarten, but her business in the city was for a deal with a bank that would allow her to open up her very own dance studio, as opposed to the small rented rooms she was currently using. It was her dream and she couldn’t give it up now.

“I know, I know,” the redhead muttered, more to convince herself than anyone else. With a final smile from Wanda, the couple disappeared down the driveway and used the twins’ moment of distraction to make a tear-free getaway.

“Right, rascal 1, rascal 2, who wants to go to the park?” Yelena clapped her hands together as the door shut and the girls halted in their steps.

“Me! I got the wiggles!” They chorused.

“Well we need to get those wiggles out, don’t we!”

Yelena inspected their outfits and quickly concluded that their matching dungarees was an appropriate park choice. She would never admit it to Natasha, but she’d been reading books and online articles ever since Natasha asked her to babysit. Making a good impression was the one thing the blonde wanted so desperately, and she was determined to make sure everything went right.

After tying both pairs of converse to two sets of small feet and retying one of the pigtails in Isla’s hair, Yelena checked her backpack for her supplies and they were ready to go. It was an indescribable feeling to have her nieces clutching her hands as they walked down the street and Yelena finally understood how her sister had such a hard time leaving her daughters.

Isla babbled away for the whole ten minute walk, mainly talking about Fanny and how she wished she was here with them. Y/n listened happily, more than content just fiddling with the rings on her aunt’s fingers as they stopped at a crossing. It had been a month since they’d last spent time with their aunt and almost a year since their first meeting, and Y/n had definitely warmed up to her in that time. Which gave Yelena immense pride and huge bragging rights.

The sun really had chosen the right day to shine and Yelena made sure both girls were lathered in sunscreen before she allowed them to run free, laughing as they both made a beeline for the swing. Isla climbed up on the horse shaped seat just beside the swing set easily, her giggles echoing through the park as it began to move.

Y/n didn’t have quite the same luck. She couldn’t quite reach the swing she wanted and turned back to Yelena with a pout, her hands grabbing at the plastic.

“Hold on malyshka, I’m coming.” The blonde ran over and scooped up her youngest niece, tickling her stomach a little before slotting her legs in the holes of the swing. Y/n’s pout disappeared as quickly as it appeared and she chanted ‘higher’ as Yelena gently pushed her.

Yelena didn’t let her go too high, but she watched as Y/n stretched her legs out in front of her and lifted her arms, almost as if she was flying.

“L’Isla look!” She yelled at her sister. “I’m flying! I’m a birdie!”

Isla looked for a moment but was far too invested in her own activities to care too much, so Y/n just kept shouting for Yelena to push her higher, to which her aunt obeyed.

They were content on the swings for a while until Y/n got distracted by the slide. Yelena was grateful to give her arms a break, even though she’d have pushed her nieces for hours if they’d have asked. Taking a seat on the bench beside the slide, she watched as the energetic four year olds ran around and slid down the slide, wriggling the whole way down.

It was adorable the way they played together, often hand in hand as they circled the giant wooden structure. Isla always climbed up first before helping her sister up the last section, taking her ‘big’ sister duties very seriously.

“Aunty Lena, watch!” Y/n yelled, holding onto the red handle by the little slide as she tapped her feet together. “I’m gonna go fast!”

“I’m watching, little bug, go on.”

Y/n let go and slid down, stopping at the bottom with a grin as Yelena clapped. She raced over, breathing hard, and grabbed her little water bottle to take a sip.

“That was very impressive,” Yelena said, taking the bottle from Y/n when she was done. “Look, let’s watch Isla now.” She put her arms around Y/n’s stomach and held her in place as they watched Isla slide down before she too came running over, asking for her water.

“Have you both been practising your slides?” Isla nodded between sips.

“Mommy takes us to the park after pre-k.”

“And she gets us ice cream.” Y/n flashed a cheesy grin, trying to win over Yelena even more than she already had.

“Well, if we see the ice cream truck, then maybe.” A chorus of ‘yay’s sounded and Yelena felt like the coolest aunt on the planet. It didn’t matter that the girls already loved her to pieces, every time they smiled at her it thawed her heart and she was sure that one day she would be charged with kidnapping for stealing them both. If she barely coped with them now, prom night and graduation would hit her like a truck.

“Can we go play again?” Y/n asked, bouncing on her toes like she was eager to run off. Yelena gave them the all clear and she sprinted away with Isla yelling her name as they approached the climbing frame. Y/n scrambled up the smaller side and whizzed down the slide before Isla could stop her.

“Y/n!” Isla yelled, running back over to her sister who was sat at the bottom of the slide. “You can’t run!” She tapped her sister’s chest where her heart was before taking her hand and dragging her back to the steps. “Slowly. Mommy always says slowly.”

“I just want to play,” she huffed, placing her palm on her chest. “I’m fine.”

“I’ll tell Mommy!” Isla didn’t really understand what she was supposed to tell Wanda, but the threat was enough and Y/n walked away scowling to find the sand pit. It was slightly sludgy from the rain a few days ago so she wandered around the park again before going back to Isla and giving her a hug.

“You play on the bridge with me?”

“Only if I get to be the pirate!”

“I’ll be mermaid.”

Yelena watched from her spot on the bench, her phone resting in her hand as she filmed the girls playing. The park was relatively empty, only three other children were playing. But they looked older than the twins and so kept to themselves, which the blonde was grateful for. She wasn’t all that trusting of other people’s kids.

There was something relaxing about watching them play. It took her mind off everything else and every time the girls flashed her a smile she felt herself soften. Her sister really had won the family lottery and she felt so grateful to be an established part of their lives as they grew up. Swearing off having kids forever, this was the only way Yelena would purposefully interact with children and she was totally okay with that. The best thing about her nieces was that she could spoil them as much as she wanted and then let her sister deal with the inevitable sugar rush that followed.

An hour went by before Y/n and Isla trudged over once more, significantly more dishevelled than they were before. Long gone were the pigtails, their curls now wild about their shoulders, the colour almost matching their rosy cheeks.

“Did you have fun?”

“I think I got a rock in my shoe,” Y/n whined, standing on one leg like a flamingo. Isla went to sit on the bench as Yelena sorted out Y/n’s shoe, shaking the pieces of gravel that were stuck to her sock. “Ice cream?”

“I don’t think the ice cream truck is here, malyshka,” Yelena admitted, her heart breaking at their disappointed faces. “But we can get some at home, how does that sound?”

“I don’t want to go home!” Isla pouted, folding her arms in a little tantrum. Y/n copied her, leaning against Yelena as she stood between her legs. “Want to stay here forever!”

“Are you guys not hungry? All that running around, I’m sure your bellies are grumbling at you.” To prove her point, she tickled Y/n’s stomach, mainly to hear more of the adorable giggles she loved so much.

After some reluctance and agreement that cookies will be provided with lunch, they made the slow walk home. Y/n was dragging her feet, begging to be carried despite Yelena saying no. She couldn’t carry both of them, even if it was evident how tired Y/n was.

To brighten their mood, she started singing an old Russian song, making everyone march in time with her singing as they turned down the final street. The twins had no idea what she was singing about but their spirits were lifted and they marched happily, swinging their arms and nodding their heads as best as they could.

A quick clean up was needed as they got back home to wash away the park germs, but with soap bubbles and a mini water fight, Yelena managed to make even the most mundane activities interesting. She distracted the twins with some colouring pages whilst she located and heated up the pasta dish that Wanda had left in the fridge, instructions written on a bright yellow post it note.

The mothers really had thought of everything, which made the Blonde’s job ten times easier as she sectioned the food onto the twin’s trays. Pink and orange, just the way they preferred it.

With two tired out toddlers seated at the table, hands washed and lunch served, a quietness descended on the house as they tucked in and Yelena allowed herself a moment to breathe. Natasha and Wanda must be superpowered, she thought to herself, because doing this everyday must be exhausting. She couldn’t wait for a nap.

But when was Yelena’s life this idyllic for long? It certainly didn’t last and the blonde had just finished her pasta before she heard the sniffles beginning. Isla looked happy enough, but the same couldn’t be said for the red-eyed and teary girl beside her.

“Y/n what’s wrong?” Yelena asked, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Do you not like it?”

“I want Mama,” she spluttered, her bottom lip trembling as tears rolled down her cheeks. She brought her fists up to wipe her eyes but it didn’t stop them much. “I want Mama!”

“Oh malyshka, she’ll be back soon, I promise.” But Yelena’s words did little to comfort the young girl. “Do you want to eat a little bit more?” Her plate was hardly touched, only a few pieces of cucumber and pasta gone from her portion.

Whilst her sister cried, Isla looked at her own empty plate and back at Y/n’s, the little cogs in her head turning. Having such empathetic mothers had rubbed off on her and she looked at the little chocolate chip cookie sitting on the dessert section of her plate for a second.

“Y/n/n, do you want my cookie?” She grabbed it and pushed it towards her sister who stopped sniffling for a second to nod, taking the treat even if she had her own on her plate.

Yelena had to stop herself aweing out loud and she pulled her phone out as quickly as she videoed as much of the interaction as she could for Natasha and Wanda.

“That was kind of you Isla, well done.”

“She’s just noisy,” Isla answered back, her lips curling up in disgust that looked quite comical. Clearly she hadn’t changed and her sister crying was still just as annoying.

Yelena stifled her laugh and stood up to grab another cookie to replace Isla’s lost one. Her attitude at four years old was a clear indicator that Wanda and Natasha were going to have their work cut out as she grew up, especially combined with her ‘older sister complex’.

Y/n had eaten half of the cookie, the distraction working, before she quickly realised why she was crying in the first place. She locked eyes with Yelena and let the tears fall once more, wanting nothing more than a hug as her active morning caught up with her.

“Y/n it’s okay, it’s okay,” she tried to comfort once more, rounding the table to give the young girl a cuddle. “Why don’t we all go and find a movie to watch, hm?

“Mermaids?” Y/n asked between sobs, holding on tight to Yelena’s t shirt as she was lifted into her arms.

“Isla, do you want to watch The Little Mermaid?” The girl nodded, hopping down off her chair and running into the living room.

“Come on, big girl, let’s go get comfy and you can have all the cuddles you need, yeah?” Y/n sobbed into Yelena’s neck and held on tighter, more like a koala than a child. But Yelena never refused hugs from her nieces, not whilst they were still young and small enough to want to spend hours on her lap.

Isla had dug through the dvd shelf, leaving a mess on the floor, to find the most worn case holding their current favourite film. She passed it to Yelena and jumped onto the couch, sitting beside Y/n who was holding the corner of the soft blanket to her chest with a frown.

“Don’t be sad, we can see Sebastian! And Ariel.” Isla suddenly gasped, turning to her aunt crouched by the dvd player. “Aunty Lena!”

“Yes, lenya?” (Sunshine).

“Ariel has hair like me and Y/n/n! Does that mean we’re princesses?”

Yelena smiled to herself and settled on the couch between the two girls, Y/n immediately crawling onto her lap as Isla snuggled into her side.

“Of course you’re both princesses. What does that make me?”

“The evil queen,” Y/n mumbled, giggling as Yelena gasped dramatically. The opening credits of the Disney movie sounded in the background but no one paid attention as the twins erupted into laughter over Yelena’s expression.

“The evil queen? What!”

“Yes!” Isla squealed. “Evil queen!”

“Your mama didn’t tell me you both are little terrors!” She exclaimed, grabbing Isla by the foot so she couldn’t wriggle away. “I can’t believe you!”

“I didn’t say it!” Isla tried to defend herself, but Yelena was having none of it. “Please, Aunty Lena please!”

Yelena let go of her foot and turned Y/n around so she was facing her on her knee. “Okay then, what about Mama? Is she a princess?”

“Mama always a princess!”

“Okay,” Yelena said, wondering how her sister would take anyone but her daughter calling her a princess. “Is Mommy a princess too?”

Isla nodded frantically. “Yeah! We all princesses!”

“But Aunty Yelena isn’t?” She faked an offended expression, sending Y/n into another giggle fit. Which was a lot better than the tears that had dried on her cheeks.

“No you’re the evil queen!”

“Or S’bastian!”

Yelena paused, tapping her fingers on her chin in thought. “So… a singing crab, or a witch? That’s all I get?” The twins both nodded before Y/n stood on the couch and leaned to Yelena’s ear.

“S’bastian is my favourite,” she murmured before flopping back onto Yelena’s lap, her arms leaning on her chest. Yelena felt her heart clench, why were these kids so goddamn cute?

Only thirty minutes into the film, Isla had stretched herself out along the couch so Yelena wrapped both arms around Y/n whose head was flopping to the side as she tried to fight the sleep. But the combination of hearing Disney songs and feeling Yelena stroking her stomach had her falling asleep in a matter of minutes. Isla was watching, but barely. They really had tired themselves out for today, which made Yelena’s job a lot easier.

The jingle of keys in the door woke Yelena from her accidental nap and her heart shot to her stomach momentarily before she realised both twins were still asleep safe and sound. With Y/n’s dead weight sprawled out across her chest, she could do nothing but wait for Natasha to find her, the overplayed soundtrack of the title page luring the attentive mothers towards the living room.

Natasha had her suit jacket hanging over her arm and her white button up shirt was unbuttoned slightly lower than normal, but she still looked professional in her black slacks. Yelena craned her neck over the back of the couch and pressed a finger to her lips, gesturing to the sleeping redheads surrounding her.

“What did you do to them?” Wanda whispered as both women rounded the front of the couch. “They’re flat out.”

Natasha crouched down by Isla and studied her face momentarily before looking at Yelena with a small laugh. “I’ve never seen them so tired. What happened?”

“I let them run out their wiggles in the park,” she began, careful to not disturb Y/n. “And then we had a little meltdown so Isla picked a movie.”

“She got upset?” Wanda asked, concern lacing her tone. It wasn’t like her to get upset at all, which set alarm bells ringing in the mothers’ heads.

But Yelena quickly clarified that Y/n was the one with the tears, to which both mothers looked less concerned about.

“She just kept asking for her Mama, but that’s probably down to tiredness, right?”

Natasha narrowed her eyes at her sister, slightly unnerved at the calmness that she radiated. Yelena was not a calm or collected person, so this was a weird sight.

“Who are you and what have you done to my sister?”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Shut up. I just did my research, that’s all.”

Natasha went to tease her about it but Y/n shifted on Yelena’s lap, the voices disturbing her sleep. She rubbed her eyes softly before blinking them open and almost launching herself at Wanda with a squeal.

“Home! You’re home!” She squeezed Wanda tight in a hug, the woman melting into her daughter’s embrace as she held her close. There was something so special about welcome home hugs and Natasha didn’t feel left out as Isla woke up only seconds later and attacked her Mama with cuddles.

“Oh my big girls, we missed you!” Natasha peppered Isla’s face in kisses, having missed the way she squirmed in her arms. “Did you have a good day?”

“The best day! I love Aunty Lena!” Isla jumped back onto the couch and hugged Yelena tight, allowing Y/n a moment to shuffle over to Natasha and completely lean against her. Nothing would ever beat her Mama’s hugs. Ever.

“I missed you, babygirl. Are you okay now?”

“Missed you too Mama.”

Natasha stood up and brought Y/n up with her, holding her tightly on her hip as she stretched her legs. She smiled at the familiar feeling of her daughter fiddling with the necklace that lay on her collarbones - she always gravitated towards jewellery.

“You’re staying the night, right Lena?” Natasha clarified, watching Isla’s face light up as her aunt said yes.

“More Aunty Lena time!”

“I think it’s safe to say you’ve won them over,” Wanda added, shaking her head with a smile. She didn't mind what it was, as long as her girls were happy, she was too.

And no one was injured after Yelena’s first babysitting adventure, so there would be many more to follow.

[tarjapearce]

Grandma's Visit.

Warnings: Drama, mild angst, Strained Relationships. Comfort towards the end. No proofread

Summary: Conchata wants to meet Benji.

A/N: There might not be updates, but have this little piece as an offer :')

Hey

Gabriel's leg bounced as the main door was closed, a bit of a slam on it. His hands immediately fetched his phone.

Migue

Busy right now.

Drop that shit and listen

?? ¿Qué pasó?  (What's wrong?)

Mamá va para allá, cabrón.

The fuck you mean she's on her way? Did you tell her where do I live?

Miguel, it's mom we're talking about.

The eldest O'Hara sighed and raked a hand over his hair. He was definitely not prepared for what laid ahead.

She wants to meet Benjamin.

Miguel's body tensed as his muscles flexed so tightly, one would think he'd break. And it wasn't far from the truth.

Conchata. Or Connie for her friends, was the ever annoying stone on his shoes. Miguel had refused to have her in his wedding. Not out of spite, rather for the  notion he had of his beloved progenitor. He knew that trouble followed her everywhere and if it wasn't following her like an overly attached stalker, is cause she was the problem itself.

Conchata was anything but easy to be around. And things had gone even more acrid after the wedding. Miguel never told you about the fourty five minute call she made him just to say how much of a bad son he was for not inviting her over.

But Miguel knew better, if he'd had her, she'd either complain about everything, ruining the mood for everyone. Or she'd start making snide comments on you and he'd get pissed, some drama would ensue causing an even bigger and jagged rift between them and his wedding would be ruined.

"Hey"

Your gentle and soft touch grounded him, anchored his mind back to his body, as his attention snapped back at you.

"You ok?"

His eyes felt tired and heavy. Unable to meet your gaze completely.

"I'll be."

You cradled him in your arms and kissed the top of his forehead. The touch alone melted him. His own arms embracing your shorter form, that somehow did the perfect work of comforting him and ease his thoughts. But when it came to his mother, little good things came out from it.

"My... eh-" He cleared his throat, "My mother is coming for a visit"

Oh...

"What she could possibly want after so many years?"

"Meet Benjamin."

Even though his words seemed simple, the clenching of his fists until his knuckles turned white, only dictated it was far from being that. Miguel didn't fear his mother, but feared and hated the words that could possibly escape her mouth when things weren't her way.

His wellbeing would be the sacrifice for the visit, cause he'd do anything possible to avoid you or his children get hurt.

"I swear, if she says or does something stupid-"

"Mi reina, let me handle her, ok?"

Your lips pursed and your brows deepened in a soft furrow.

"I won't hesitate-"

"I know. But please. Just, let me, ok?"

Both of you knew that things weren't going to be easy, his distress was obvious, he knew you'd step in if necessary, but he had to face her, it was more like a closure for him than anything. His baby boy wouldn't suffer the dooming and cursing words she gave him so many years ago. Words he learned to loathe as he grew up.

"Alright."

----

Maybe Gabriel's heads up was a false alarm, because nearly a week had gone by. A week of pent up stress and anxiety from both sides. And you could tell from Miguel's demeanor changing.

Even though being loving and a great father remained on the top list, you knew better than that. He'd been found asleep in his office after dinner, or would shut out himself for some little minutes. You'd give him space, and when he needed you, he'd always know where to find you.

He didn't even required to say 'I need you' cause you knew. His body language over the years had been a great subject of study, specially when it came to anxiety and other negatives that always switched on whenever his mother popped up in a conversation, or when something didn't sit right in his gut.

He'd pace, pick at the skin around his nails hard enough to draw blood, chew at the insides of his cheek, drink alot of more coffee to keep himself awake, grumpier than usual, irritated, short replies for everything outside his beloved family.

With you he'd be clingier than usual, he'd spoil Gabi over to avoid thinking too much. He'd pour himself into being that amazing and loving parent he never had, but at night, he'd just hold you until he fell asleep. He'd clutch onto you so tightly that sometimes you'd have little bruises, barely visible ones, in the places he'd hold.

Your comfort skills poured into his preferred love language. Physical touch. You'd play with his hair until he fell asleep, a little purr coming from him before giving into sleep, you'd caress his back in soothing circles, letting the steady beating of your heart lull him to calm.

You'd kiss his face, showering him in affection, as if with every kiss a bit of his worries would go away.

The knock on the main door however interrupted his train of thoughts. You had gone to the supermarket to get some stuff you had forgotten for dinner. Relief washing over him as you now we're home, or so he innocently had thought. All air was caught in his throat upon seeing none other than Conchata on the front door.

Even for her age, Conchata had some beauty reserved. Her skin tone same as Miguel's, soft curls that lingered above her shoulders, deep brown eyes that if one looked close enough, would see the deep red in them. Tall and seizing him with a look he also learned to master.

A scowl disguised as a smile.

"Miguel. "

"Mamá."

A too common and long pleasantries shared between the both.

She hasn't aged much.

Miguel's mind chanted.

"You're gonna let me in to meet my grandson, or what?"

A bushy brow of his quirked, blasé and bored, but he stepped aside. His whole frame had curbed her for long enough.

Here we go

Her scrutinizing gaze was unstoppable against the nakedness of his home. Her eyes raked in every little detail out of place, loading her verbal ammo with it.

"Where is the baby?"

"Asleep."

Monotone and monosyllabic answers that matched his expression was all she could pry from him. It was ridiculous the amount of pictures you seemed to have about Gabriella. She saw her when she was two, then six. Staying in Miguel’s life wasn't something she actually liked to partake on. Too busy with her own demons and new boyfriends to care.

Why would she? He was already a grown ass man.

A man that refused to have her at his own wedding. A past resentment that has lasted over the years and her own mind had been feeding the fester inside her heart. It didn't help you had one of the wedding pictures scattered around the living room.

The few proofs she  needed to see, to know she wasn't welcome, but knowing her son had his own now, was another excuse to see what kind of man and father Miguel had turned out to be.

His arms crossed on his chest as she sat down in one of the seats in the couch.

"Come."

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"I'm trying to be civil. The least you can do is obey your mother for once."

"Why you came?"

"I told you. I need to see my grandson."

"Whatever for?"

Her eyes hardened at his words, but a sigh escaped her lips.

"God, you're so like your father. Always mistrusting people."

"You need to leave."

Hearing her say such curse, made his heart beat even faster. Hands clenched tightly at his sides. Eyes away from her, like if the mere sight of her brought back so many unpleasantness he had fought hard to work them through.

"I won't leave until your... woman shows up and throws me away."

"She will."

"Of course she will. You're not man enough. Just look at this place. A mess."

"And?"

Miguel knew that paying and baiting into her games, would only hinder so. many years of progress he had done on his own. But would also mean to give her the attention she desperately seeked, even if it meant to do it the wrong way.

"What do you mean, and?! What does she does around all day?" Conchata huffed, " In my times the wife was the one that kept everything in check. I've seen nothing but a mess so far."

"Sorry for that."

Your tired and irked voice echoed from the kitchen's door. Miguel gave you a little smirk.

"Have been busy being a real mother this whole time. Miguel, mi amor can you defrost some vegetables, please?"

"Sure do. Found everything?"

You both were purposely ignoring her. A silent yet powerful statement.

You have no power here.

Conchata's eyes set like stone into you. How dared a tiny flea like yourself to speak to her in such way?. And even worse, how could his son be lenient in allowing you to be disrespectful towards her?

You had entered quietly, the heavy and draining aura could be felt even from outside. You had told Gabi to wait outside and rearrange the groceries in the meantime.

" Oh, I didn't know you had returned."

Your name rolling off her tongue felt wrong.

" It's my house too."

"Ah, of course. You didn't do a pre-nup. Te va a dejar en la calle, Miguel." (She'll leave you bare)

Conchata's gaze never left you, it only turned even more intense as her pupils followed you every step.

"I came here to meet my grandson. Where is Gabriella? "

Said precious child helped you to get the bags from your car, while Conchata opened her arms for Gabi to cuddle her. But everything that came out was her hiding behind you, while looking between you and her, as if asking permission.

"Do you want to greet grandma, baby?"

Gabi only recoiled back, hiding further from you.

"Guess not."

You shrugged and instructed Gabi to go to her room, your eldest baby ignored her grandma.

"Muy chistosa tu mujer, enseñándole a mis nietos a irrespetarme ." (Your woman is so funny by teaching my grandkids to disrespect me.)

Miguel had to roll his eyes and stare at her boringly as he pulled out the vegetables and put them to thaw while you clenched your jaw by the sudden resented babbling that came from your mother in law.

"Where is Benjamin? I came here to see him. And I'm sure you'd love to have me here again."

"He'll be up in a minute. Would you like a a glass of water?"

Miguel offered but Conchata was already set in making you as uncomfortable as possible. And when Benjamin was brought in, rubbing his sleepy and baby face, looking for you, Conchata stood and took Benji from Miguel's arms. Holding him with such disingenuous affection it made Benji to reach for Miguel instantly.

You tensed, and so did Benjamin as Conchata admired him. If it wasn't for the skin tone matching Miguel’s, one would think that Benjamin wasn't his. Benjamin had your curls. And not Miguel's soft waves. Benjamin was the splitting image of you with a bit of Miguel's DNA painted in a few selected places. Like his eyes and height.

"I'm actually surprised you managed to pop out his children. Miguel is... big. Got it from his father."

"Didn't care much about that, ma'am."

"No se parece en nada a ti, Miguel. ¿Estás seguro que es tu hijo?" (He doesn't look like you. Are you sure he's your son?)

You didn't know what infuriated you more. The fact that she hinted that Benjamin wasn't his, a shallow and not so subtle hint at Miguel's past, or the pleased smirk her mouth turned into after spilling out the venom and seeing Miguel's discomfit grow.

Some people couldn't be helped. And Conchata truly couldn't help but love hurting her son. But you weren't having it. Not when Miguel's eyes turned away from her, not in hurt but in such anger that even you knew things wouldn't end up good for neither. And still, he regarded her with uninterested eyes.

His lack of engagement at her taunts, made her even more lashing. Like a little child that refused to have her whims met.

Even worse when Benjamin started to fuss and reach for him with a nervous cry. Even he felt odd and icky around her. You took Benjamin from her, cooing and soothing him, but he wanted Miguel. Who gladly took his precious baby, away from Connie. Inspecting him for any damage to finally kiss the top of his forehead, reassuringly.

You're safe.

"Si ya terminó de incomodarnos, creo que se puede ir, señora." (If you're done making us uncomfortable, you may go, ma'am.)

Her eyes widened at your spanish. It was clear that you had understood everything she had said, but were wise enough to not lose your temper, yet you fought back.

"Remind me to never visit you again, please."

"As if you ever do that. And no, it's not an invitation."

"Escúchame bien, chamaco ingrato-" (Listen to me you ungrateful brat)

"Ma'am."

You weren't one for yelling, but your voice was firm enough to have three pair of eyes set on you, Benjamin's fussing stopped. Conchata's lips turned into a scowl at your words.

"Thanks for your visit."

"You know, you could've settled for something better-"

"Así estoy bien, gracias. Now, if you excuse us, We've got dinner to make. The door is right there." (Im just fine. Thanks)

She left with a slam that had Benjamin cry out of the jumpscare.

Miguel hushed and rubbed his baby's back in little circles to keep him calm before giving his pacifier.

" You ok? "

Your hand squeezed Miguel's for a moment while he kissed your temple gratefully.

" Yeah. She's gone. That's why exactly I didn't invite her to the wedding or meeting you."

"It's alright. God... she's-"

"Annoying. I know. Sorry you had to hear all that."

"Nah. I'm glad you taught me cause, damn... Her face upon hearing me speaking it, was priceless. And just for you to know, I was about to explain how we almost made Benji on the car."

Miguel snorted and nodded, knowing you would. You had each other's back and that wasn't up for discussion.

" Te amo."

You mumbled in his ear before stealing a kiss from his lips.

" También te amo."

[juanarc-thethird]

Mama Arc doesn't play around #2

Outside a Chinese restaurant far away from prying eyes. A burly man with a briefcase tries to enter, but is stopped by two men well dress guarding the entrance

Guard: Name and state your business.

Ghira: I am Ghira Belladonna, I came to see "The Mother"

The guard speaks with his microphone in his jacket and waits. A few seconds pass and he turns to Ghira.

Guard: You can come in, "Mother" is waiting for you in the VIP room.

Ghira nods his head and enters. Inside the restaurant everything looked normal. but Ghira knew better than anyone that no one here is "Normal." He recognized people in politics, fame, and even crime.

Without wasting any more time, he walks straight to the VIP area. The entrance is covered by a curtain, and just like outside, two men guard the entrance. The two notice Ghira and move the curtain for him.

The moment the curtain opens, he meets "The Mother"

Mama Arc: Oh, Ghira! You finally arrive. For a moment I thought you'd never come.

She said with a smile on her face.

Mama Arc is sitting at a round table, opposite where Ghira is. She is wearing her mom's regular clothes along with her apron. An apron much loved by her, made by her husband.

Ghira: As if I had a choice.

Mama Arc: Boo~ Why are you always so serious?

Ghira:...

Mama Arc: *Sighs* Anyways, please take a seat.

Ghira takes a seat in the chair closest to him.

Mama Arc: Do you know why I called you here?

Ghira: It's because you want my wife's family recipe for almond pie.

Mama Arc: Exactly! The time is up and it's time to pay. Do you have the recipe?

Ghira: Yes.

He says as he puts his briefcase on the table.

Mama Arc: Excellent! Let me see it.

Ghira: Sure.

He opens the briefcase and in it is a folded piece of used paper. One of the guards takes the paper and hands it to her.

Mama Arc: Let's take a look.

She then puts on her reading glasses and begins to look at the recipe carefully. Ghira just stays quiet, waiting for her to finish.

Mama Arc: Ghira...

Ghira: Hm?

Mama Arc: You remember the deal, right?

Ghira: Yes, I give you the recipe and my daughter doesn't go out with your son.

Mama Arc: I like that you're still aware of what's at stake. But… did you ever talk about this with your wife?

Ghira: Yes I did.

Mama Arc: Oh Ghira… *lowers the paper* That was a big mistake.

She then turns the page showing him a handwritten message from his wife.

"You want my recipe, huh? I'll give it to you after the wedding - Kali"

Ghira: *Shock* Kali?!

Mama Arc: It seems she had other plans for your daughter. Unfortunately I'm an Arc, and we don't go back on our word. So...

Ghira: NO! YOU CAN"T DO THIS!!

Mama Arc: Sorry, but what's done is done. See you at the wedding~

She nods to her guards and they escort Ghira out of the restaurant.

Ghira: You won't get away with this, you heard me!! You won't get away with this!

Mama Arc: Oh Ghira, if you only knew...

She takes a Cuban from her purse and from the shadows Blake appears to light it for her.

Mama Arc: *blows out the smoke* ...the game was rigged from the start

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

After the tense morning, you don't speak to Walter again that day. Or the next. When he arrives, he stays outside with his thermos of coffee and waits for Timothy. At the end of the day, he gives your brother an excuse about chores at home. Maybe not an excuse. He has been spending a lot of time around here.

Nearly a week after it happened, after everything changed, your mother appears in the kitchen with a crease in her forehead. You offer her a cup off coffee as she rubs her eyes. She yawns and and shakes her head.

“We'll grab a cup at the hospital,” she says, “you're father has a check-up. Timmy's taking us.”

“Oh?” You pour yourself a mug and lean on the counter, “I forgot.”

“Lots going on,” she sighs, “can't blame you for being distracted.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you shrug.

“I called Walter, left a message,” she checks the clock hung above the door, “wouldn't be too bad if he did swing by, huh?”

“Hopefully he doesn't waste the time,” you grumble.

“Honey,” she chides playfully, “you know, I think your dad would approve… if he could. He always liked Walter.”

“Mom,” you frown, “please, I have enough to worry about.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she whines, “I'm just… looking for a little sunshine through the clouds.”

You wince, a pang of guilt between your ribs, “I'm sorry, mom, I just… Walter's nice. He helps so much and I think… I think maybe it's too much.”

“Don't I know it.  He is so generous. I gave him some money and I found the envelope in my purse,” she tuts, “you could do much worse. He… he could take care of you.”

You exhale, “mom.”

“Just listen,” her tone turns dire and her eyes gleam, “your pa can't. He's not gonna be able to ever again. I already know what the doc's gonna day and you shouldn't fool yourself. Walter won't help forever, not for no good reason. And next year, your pa won't be back on his tractor…” she sniffles and dabs her nose, “those days are behind us.”

“Ma, you don't know–”

“I do,” she utters solemnly, “I see the man I married but he's hollow. He's… a shell, honey. He's there but he's not really.”

“Oh, ma–”

“I'm just saying… we need to weigh our options. I'll look into selling if we gotta and Timmy, maybe he can go work with Walt–”

“Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?” You cross an arm around your middle.

“We shoulda been talking about this a week ago,” she shakes her head.

“Well, I can apply at the grocer or–”

“You do that,” she says, “but you think real hard. You got options,” she steps closer and cups your cheeks, “you're a pretty young thing. That doesn't last forever.”

You don't say a word as her greyness seeps into you. She draws away and you bow your head. You wait for her to go as you stare into the black depths of the coffee. You take a sip to try to chase away the ice in your veins but it only sends a shiver through you.

🌾

Your parents go off with Timmy in the truck. You set to sweeping the porch to keep yourself busy. Your mother's words ring in your ears. She can't be serious, there's more out there than the farm. Pa always said as much and you don't think he meant Walter.

As you get to the steps, the distant rumble of an engine rolls over the ground. You turn as gravel grits under treads and Walter's large truck lazily rocks along the bumpy road. You still the straw broom and grip the handle as he pulls up. Did he not get your mother's message?

He lingers in the truck as you squint against the sunlight. His door pops open and he jumps down, sending up a cloud of dust. He goes around the bed of the truck and opens the back.

He slides out a sheet of wood and drags it towards you. You watch in confusion as he stops and leans it against the side of the porch. His eyes meet yours and his brows furrow.

“Morning,” he checks his watch, “barely.”

“Morning, Mr. Marshall,” you eke out.”

His eyes flash and he nods. He turns and marches back to the truck, pulling out several planks before carrying them over. You watch him as you lean on the broom.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

He stops and looks up at you. He points to your feet and flicks his finger up, “building a ramp. For your dad.”

You look down at your slips flecked in dirt and stray strands of straw, “oh? Didn't ma call–”

“She didn't ask,” he says bluntly. 

Your lips slant and you tilt your head, “that's real nice.”

“Yeah well, I'm a nice guy,” he huffs and spins on the heel of his boots, stomping away once more.

He goes back to the truck and retrieves his toolbox. His agitation roils off his tense shoulders and the stone set in his jaw. You're too afraid to ask but you do need to. He has been avoiding you.

“Well, I'll stay out of your way,” you lift the broom and back up the stairs. “If you need anything–”

“Not in the way,” he says curtly as he takes out a measuring tape.

“Oh, I know but I wouldn't wanna bother–”

“I don't mind,” he shrugs as he steps onto the stairs and measures the angle over them.

“Right, of course, do you need anything? A glass of water or–”

“Seems like I'm the one bothering,” he stands and lets the tape retract harshly.

“No?” You bat your lashes at him, “I didn't say that, Mr.--”

“Walt,” he growls, “you know what I like best in a woman. Honesty. So why don't you be honest and tell me what you really feel?”

“I…” you gulp, “Walter, er, Walt, I… I'm just… confused.”

“Don't act like a child. We both know you're not,” he crosses his arms over his broad chest. You've seen him angry before but it's never been aimed at you. 

“I… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry. Okay,” he shakes his head and unfolds his arms, going back to measuring, “I'm open to talking when you wanna be an adult.”

You flinch as you watch him. He grits his teeth, ignoring your presence as he focuses on his work. You turn, hiding the hurt deep in your chest. You never meant to hurt him but you really don't know. As much as you try to wade through your feelings, you only feel as if you're drowning in them.

[starlightazriel]

bee 1

series general psa: this series is not for everyone proceed with caution and check warnings before indulging I love you all<3

desc: (fem reader) modern au best friends to lovers, roommate az, angsty + smutty, multiple parts (not sure how many yet at least 5)

warnings: 18+ , light smut, light angst?, pining, vibrator, self stimulation, drug/alcohol abuse/addiction, platonic childhood fluff, childhood trauma cus its az helloo, readers a lil insecure, cancer minor character

wc: 2.7k

a/n: I'm salivating

other parts will be found on my azriel masterlist

one

"Get it offff!" I screamed to absolutely no one in particular. My mother was inside cooking, my father still at work, so they clearly wouldn't hear me. My arms flailed wildly around my head. "It's going to sting me!" I scream again, going cross eyed as I looked at the bee perched on my nose, the bee buzzed, sharp pain shot through my nose, my eyes welled up with tears, too frantic to notice the boy across the street, watching me from his own front yard.

"Are you okay?" my eyes drift to the boy who had just moved in across the street, he was eating a lollipop, now standing on the sidewalk in front of my front yard. I had stopped flailing, but I was still crying, tears rolling down my cheeks as I held my hand to my nose. I haven't spoken yet, and the boy shrugs, about to turn around and retreat back to his own house. His skin was tan, hair black, short, but shaggy with a slight wave to it, there were two small purple bruises underlining each of his hazel eyes, I also noticed the scars covering his hands, almost looking like a thousand tiny cuts that had healed over, he was taller than me, and maybe just about the cutest boy I had ever seen in my nine years of life.

"It stung me," I say, watching him, he stops again, a half smile on his face, cheek popped out from the candy he was eating.

"That's because youre supposed to stay still," he informs me, matter of factly, my face scrunches up, eyes squinting at him, he laughs, pulling the candy from his mouth again. "Im Az, I just moved in yesterday, over there," he turns and points back toward his house before turning to me again. "What's your name?" he asks, his head cocking to the side slightly, it reminded me of when my parents brought my golden retriever home on my fifth birthday, I had named him Boots.

"Y/n," I inform him matter of factly, eyeing the candy that he had. A blow pop, my favorite, "do you have any more of those?" I ask, he looks at his candy, smirking and then looking back at me. "Specifically green apple," I add, it was my favorite flavor.

"Yeah, but I'm saving the green apple," he shrugs, still smirking. I purse my lips slightly, eyeing the bruises again.

"What happened to your eyes?" I ask, my own meeting his and he shrugs again.

"Got caught stealing and my step mom made my brothers pop me," he responds, my eyes widen in surprise.

"What did you steal?" I ask, my eye brows raising slightly, I couldn't imagine the trouble I would be in for stealing, but it wouldn't have been that.

"Blow pops from the corner store," he smirks and I shake my head in surprise, I would never think to steal anything in my life. "You look like Pennywise, you should put something on that," he points to my nose, I reach my hand up to touch it again, the sting aching.

"You stole them, and you can't give me even one? And who is Pennywise?"

"The clown? Your parents don't let you watch scary movies?" He asks and I shake my head, eyeing the lollipop again. "Fine, I'll go get you one but only because I feel bad for you cus your parents are strict. And only if you go fix your clown nose, Bee."

"I told you, my names y/n."

"Not anymore."

-

"Hey," I smiled softly as Azriel entered the kitchen in our shared apartment. I was perched on my stool, laptop on the counter in front of me with my most recent homework assignment open. I was pretty much glued to my computer these days, trying to become a nurse while also working a full time bartending shift at Murphys didnt leave me with much extra time. Our eyes met for a brief moment and mine narrowed at his slightly dilated pupils, his eyes quickly darted from mine as he poured himself a drink. "It's early," I commented, and he glanced back at me for a second before shrugging his shoulders and chugging the drink in a few gulps.

"What do they say Bee? It's 5 somewhere, yeah?" he smirked, his eyes finding mine again, I swallowed, feeling my cheeks heat slightly. I averted my gaze, my eyes landing back on my laptop screen, "you working tonight?" he asked, walking past me to the living room, I swiveled around on my stool, facing him now, my back to the counter.

"Yeah, nine to three," I said as I watched him ruffling through the files of drawings that were on his desk. He had a nice little home set up for drawing, an optional backlight built into the desk with an additional overhead lamp, a comfortable chair, an array of drawing utensils and unlimited transfer paper for tattooing.

There were dozens of Azriels drawings all around the apartment, even a few of me.

"If youre up for it we're all supposed to go to the beach tomorrow, Rhys' parents went home so the beach house is empty again," Azriel said, and I find my eyes drifting to his lips while he spoke, I quickly snap my eyes back up.

"Yeah maybe, I'll see how dead I am tomorrow after working all night. I have a paper due Monday too," I bit my lip, my eyes fixing on his jawline, the way it flexed just a little each time he swallowed.

"Just let me know, you know youre always welcome," he shrugged, checked his phone again and then started toward the door. "See you later, Bee, I got clients back to back the rest of the day."

Before I could even get any more words out he was out the door. "Bye Az," I said softly to the empty apartment, rising to my feet.

Azriel had always been there for me. Since the day after he moved across the street and we'd met and bonded over green apple blow pops, we had been near inseparable since. So naturally, when I got into college, he offered that I move in to his place, since it was closer to the city, 'I'm barely home, you'll have all the silence to study,' I recalled him saying when I had been hesitant about it. After high school, I had taken four years off to help my mother tend to my grandmother while she battled cancer, so even with my reservations about the idea I had ended up taking Azriel up on his offer... The alternative would have been dorming with fresh out of high school freshmen at twenty two years old.

The only reason why I had been hesitant really is because I had been completely and hopelessly in love with Azriel since I was fifteen years old.

I knew it was stupid. If it was going to happen, it would have happened already. He liked older women first of all, and I was two years younger. Plus, I was just Bee to him, just his friend, just the girl that had lived across the street. And that's all he would ever see me as, just his younger best friend that he had to look out for.

Azriels routine was always the same, he'd come back for his lunch break around the same time every day, whether it was to actually eat lunch, get something for work, or have a drink or two, he wouldn't be home again until usually the evening or late at night. Until whenever he was done either tattooing, or drinking with his friends from the shop after they had all finished.

So any time he left after his lunch break, I knew I had the house to myself for a while.

I put music on first, turning the volume almost all the way up before I retrieved my rose vibrator from my room and I crossed the hall to Azriels room. I knew I shouldn't be doing this, I knew it was wrong, some might even say a little bit creepy. But the rush... It was well worth it.

His bed wasnt made, there was clothes scattered, a few more folders on the small coffee table were stacked next to his bong and a small tray with powder residue, a twenty dollar bill curled next to it, unraveled after having been rolled up. "Messy," I mumbled to myself before I climbed into his bed.

I bit my lip slightly in anticipation, and slid my t shirt over my head, I tossed it to the floor, my shorts next, leaving me naked on Azriels bed. I leaned back onto his pillows, relaxing slightly, tipping my head back against them. His scent filled my nostrils, my toes curled, heat seeming to spread over my skin.

I closed my eyes and ran my fingers over my skin, Azriel consumed my mind, my senses as I slowly slid a finger over my opening gently dipping into the wetness that had gathered there.

I moaned softly, imagining the way his rough fingers would feel on my skin. I imagined his naked body, imagined how big he would be, imagined the way he would kiss me, the way he would suck on my skin.

-

"Dammit," Azriel muttered to himself, searching through the folder of drawings again and again. His next appointment was in only twenty minutes, and he had of course, grabbed the wrong folder. He rose to his feet quickly, informing Kat, the shops receptionist, that he would be right back and to let his client know when they got there.

When he reached the apartment he could hear music before he even unlocked the door, he chuckled softly, figuring that Bee was cleaning the apartment. She would blast music every time.

He entered into the living room and headed to his desk, scrambling through the folders looking for the right piece. "Fuck," he said quietly to himself, realizing that the drawing wasnt there. It had to be in his room.

His eyebrows drew together when he noticed his door open, and when he reached the doorway he halted, his lips parting in surprise.

It was Bee.

In his room.

Touching herself.

He knew he should go, he knew he should forget the drawing, cancel his appointment, and turn right back around and leave before she saw him. He would have to make something up for his client, but it would save Bee the embarrassment of the sight before him.

He couldn't move though. His mouth went dry, his cheeks reddened as he watched, his cock twitched in his pants.

Her head was turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut, face half buried in his pillow, her back was arched, legs spread wide open on his bed. Her pink nipples were adorned with small rhinestone nipple rings, her breasts were peaked in the air, chest shuddering with her ragged heavy breaths. And her moans. The sound had his gut churning and his ears hot, he couldn't move, he couldn't stop looking.

His eyes landed between her legs next, his mouth watered at the sight of her puffy pink lips. Her pussy throbbed, her juices glistening in the rather bright light of his bedroom, she held a toy to her clit, grinding against it as her other hand flew up, rubbing and squeezing at her breast. She turned her head then, her eyes opening to look down at herself but they landed on Azriel instead, her eyes widened and her face went from shocked, to horrified, to ashamed. She almost choked, chucking her toy across the room and scrambling too her feet, it buzzed a little louder now that it wasnt suctioned to her clit. Azriel watched dumbfounded from his place in the doorway, his cheeks red, his whole body feeling hot.

"Turn around!" she shrieked, trying to cover her most intimate parts with her clothes she had retrieved off of the floor and he whirled instantly, putting his back to her now.

"Y/n, fuck, Im sorry, I forgot something," he swallowed, his voice sounded slightly strained, his mouth almost too dry to speak. He never really used her name, she was always just Bee. He didnt know why he was apologizing even, it was his room after all. He'd have to ask her about that later though.

"Im sorry, I- Your bed is comfortable," was all she managed to get out.

He couldn't help but turn his head slightly when she pushed passed him to the hallway toward her room, and he noticed he small tattoo of a bee at the top of her left cheek, a lump formed in his throat at the view of her backside, her door slammed behind her and he was left stunned. Her vibrator was still buzzing on the floor and he picked it up, turning it off and he tossed it on the bed next to the wet spot that was there now, he didnt know what else he was supposed to do with it. He figured shed come back for it later.

He was trying to process what had just happened but his phone rang, it was Kat, informing him that his client had been there for fifteen minutes already so she hoped he was on his way.

Azriel snapped out of it, finding the folder he needed on the coffee table and he tucked it tightly under his arm pit. His cock ached in his pants and he didnt know how to feel about it. This was Bee. His best friend Bee, he hadn't ever looked at her in any other light than that. She was beautiful, sure, but she was Bee. His silly, goofy, younger childhood friend. They had practically grown up together.

Azriel reached into his pocket, pulling out a small round tin, the folder still neatly tucked under his arm as he used his car key to give himself a little bump. He rubbed his nose free of any powder, before he shoved the tin back into his pocket, he had to get back to the shop. He wasnt even on his way yet and his client was waiting already, he couldn't remember the last time he felt so flustered.

Azriel found the rest of his day to be extremely hard to focus. He thought about texting Bee, trying to make her feel better in some way because he knew she must be going absolutely out of her mind with embarrassment. He just didnt know what to say.

He did know that he couldn't get the image of her splayed out on his bed out of his head though. It was like torture, he was aching for release, shifting uncomfortably in his seat while he tried to focus on tattooing. He couldn't stop wondering what she would taste like, what it would feel like to have her underneath him.

She had gone to work when he got back, even though he had tried to finish a little early, hoping he could at least have a conversation with her. It wasnt just that he couldn't stop thinking about what she looked like naked, he was also slightly concerned about the awkwardness of the situation. The fact they lived together and saw each other every day. Was she going to avoid him now? Did he want her to avoid him for a while?

Azriel groaned quietly to himself, kicking his jeans off of his body when he was finally in bed.

Usually with this much of a pent up sexual frustration, he would have called one of his hook ups. Let them take care of it for him. But he couldn't get Bee out of his head. He was battling himself internally.

Something felt morally wrong about looking at Bee like that. It had always been his job since they'd met to look out for her. He felt like this was the opposite of looking out for her, like he was becoming the problem that he was supposed to be protecting her from. It felt like dangerous territory, but it was her lips he thought about wrapped around his cock when he pleasured himself that night.

-

a/n: hope there's no mistakes lmk i proof read this very quickly because i have to be up in 3 hours but im literally frothing at the mouth hehehe

[vivalas-vega]

Can I request a fic with Jake? I was thinking about something where he stands up for the reader when they come over to a family dinner or something like that and her relatives all just keep criticizing her and being mean and she is used to it but Jake won't stand for it and defends her?

Thank you so much either way, I love your fanfics!!!

hi nonnie!!! thank you so much for your sweet words - I hope you like it! and thank you so much to @natrace for beta reading this for me!!

You smoothed your dress over for the dozenth time since parking the car as you waited for the exact right moment to enter the restaurant, swaying uncomfortably from side to side at the way the fabric clung to your calves. “If I smoke really quickly do you think they’ll smell it on me?” you asked Jake who was standing next to you and looking like you’d grown an extra head with how neurotic you’d been acting all day.

“You smoke?” he asked incredulously, and you smiled sheepishly.

“Sometimes, under duress,” you replied, fishing in your purse. 

“You are not under duress, it’s just your family,” he said, grabbing your hands.

“Uranium mission was less stressful than this,” you muttered and he just laughed, tugging you along to walk inside. You were led back to a semi-private area where your mother and father sat who greeted the two of you with tight smiles and one-shouldered hugs.

“It’s nice to see you,” you said, smiling at Jake who pulled your seat out for you. 

“Lieutenants,” your father said, taking a sip of his scotch. “Lucky we were able to catch you while we’re in town.”

“Yes sir, very lucky,” you agreed, reaching for the glass of water on the table. 

“I hear you’ve been doing good out there at Top Gun,” he said to Jake, “how’s Maverick been treating you?”

“Maverick has been great, sir, it’s been an honor teaching alongside him.” he answered and you took a deep breath, dreading the moment he turned his attention to you. 

“It’s nice you’re also back at Top Gun, I was surprised they’d recalled you for that mission at all,” he said and you bit your lip. “Do you feel like you’re learning anything new?”

“Well, there’s always something new to learn, dad, but I am an instructor as well,” you pointed out and he just nodded halfheartedly. 

“That’s a lovely dress, dear,” your mom interjected, trying to grab your attention.

“Oh uh, thank you… I think you got it for me a few years ago, haven’t really had time to do any shopping recently,” you said and she nodded.

“I can pick up a few more things for you when we arrive home and ship them out if you’d like,” she offered and you smiled.

“That’s okay, mom, you don’t have to do that,” really you hoped she wouldn’t.

“It’s no trouble,” she said and you gave a bright smile to the waitress who came to take your drink orders and you watched as your mom was pleased with you not ordering a cocktail and instead ordering a sparkling water. 

“I’ll be right back, need to powder my nose,” you said, not entirely sure what you even meant by that but you hurried down the hallway and flagged down your waitress. “Can I ask you to do me the biggest favor?” you asked and she smiled knowingly.

“Vodka or tequila?” she said and you flushed, “not the first tense family dinner I’ve served.”

“Tequila, you are an angel… thank you so much, you can just slip me a separate tab for the drinks,” you said before heading back to the table where your father was continuing to fawn over Jake. You didn’t mind, not at all… Jake was a great pilot and though his ego rarely ever fit through the door, he did deserve to be told how great he was but you did hope that every once in a while he would acknowledge you as well, but tonight did not seem to be that night.

“You should be spending more time in the air with Jake, you’re lucky to have him on your squad, there’s a lot he can teach you,” he said and you bit your lip as you looked at Jake.

“Well, sir, I actually feel like I learn more from her than she ever could from me,” he said and you smiled softly but you knew your dad wouldn’t accept it.

“She’s unfocused, you being here tonight proves just that… Top Gun isn’t a matchmaking academy but she turned it into one nonetheless.” 

“Well, either way it’s lovely you two found each other,” your mother said, “honey, have you given any more thought to taking a more permanent teaching position?”

“I wasn’t aware that was something I was thinking about,” you replied.

“Oh, I just assumed with the two of you getting together you were finally starting to think about settling down and starting a family,” she shrugged, as if that was the most nonchalant thing ever and Jake reassuringly rubbed your knee under the table.

“That’s not really our priority right now,” you said. 

“Maybe it should be,” your father said gruffly, “being a pilot doesn’t seem to be your strong suit.” Jake went to respond but you just knocked your knee against his and softly shook your head. 

“Besides… I’m sure it’s crossed Jake’s mind once or twice, are you sure you’d be able to withstand the demands of being a wife and mother while being in the Navy?” your mom added and you choked on your drink.

“Excuse me?” you asked, looking at her wide eyed.

“Mind your manners,” she whispered, “I just mean that you’re not getting any younger, dear, and Jake is a good man with a very promising Navy career ahead of him… you’d be smart to start thinking about this now before you lose him,” she finished.

“I haven’t actually,” Jake interjected and you all turned to look at him, “thought about starting a family. We’re not quite there yet, but the two of us will talk about it when the time comes,” he said. “I’m not interested in making her a wife until she’s ready.” 

“You should do it soon, promotions are going to start coming your way Lieutenant, wait too long and you won’t have the time.” your dad said and you suddenly felt like cattle being sold for auction. “And while she has the opportunity to leave the Navy gracefully.” 

“I’d be willing to wager she gets promoted before I do, sir,” Jake said and your dad just shook his head.

“It’s a good thing you’re a better pilot than you are a betting man, son.” 

“If you take a step back from active duty it will give you more time to plan the wedding too, dear… we could have it back home at the country club,” your mom said and you scoffed.

“Are you two even listening to us?” 

“Watch your tone,” your father said and you shook your head in disbelief. “You’re lucky this is all this conversation is with how you’ve tarnished our family name.” 

“Okay, that is enough,” Jake said suddenly, losing his grip on his patience. “You should know that your daughter is better than anyone in our squad and we all know it, we’re all competing for second best because none of us have a shot in hell at taking first with her around.”

“You might want to watch yourself, son,” your father warned.

“I’m not your son. And when your daughter feels ready for me to propose you can bet your ass I’ll do so at the first chance I get, but not a moment sooner because she is not just a potential wife or potential mother to my children for me… she is my partner and should we make any decisions about our future we will be sure to let you know… otherwise, sweetheart, I actually think we double booked ourselves.” he said, standing up and tugging you with him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” your mom asked, looking up at you in shock.

“Right now? Oh, right now I’m going to go get drunk with my friends, thank you for a lovely evening,” you said, tossing your napkin onto the table and walking out of the restaurant with Jake. “Hard Deck is only a five minute walk from here?” you suggested and he nodded, laughing as you took your heels off and let them dangle from your fingers. “Thank you for doing that, standing up to them was incredibly hot of you,” you said.

“Wasn’t going to let them talk about you like that, your dad is insane for not being proud of you… I know I am,” he said, looping his arm around your waist as you walked along the beach towards the bar. 

“I love you, you know that?” you asked and he just nodded, leading you through the front door of the Hard Deck and flipping off your friends as they whistled at your appearances. “Hey Pen, I’m going to need a lot of tequila,” you said, graciously accepting the two shot glasses she set before you. 

“To us and our country club wedding and lots and lots of babies,” he joked, clinking your glasses together as you laughed and downed the shot.

“Wait, what? What babies?” Rooster asked as he approached and you just shook your head as you ordered another round. 

“Come on, I wanna kick your ass at pool,” you said, dragging Jake behind you and giggling as he spun you around and enveloped you in a kiss. 

“I really am so proud of you, you know…” he said and you nodded, leaning up to kiss him again. 

“I know, and I love you so much.”

“I love you too…”

[blooming-violets]

Hurt/Comfort Bingo Card - Dragging themselves along the ground

Bring Your Kids to Work Day

[tasm!peter x fem!reader]

TW: effects of fire and smoke inhalation, descriptions of a dead body, injury of a child, it's a fic about being trapped in a burning building with a child so you'll be reading grim descriptions of that

A/N: I started this bingo card almost exactly one year ago and I've only finished five fics from it since. Slow and steady, baby!

Bring Your Kids To Work Day. Of course, it would happen today, of all days. 

Your office building was nothing special. Four stories and a basement. It paled in comparison to the surrounding towering skyscrapers. The newspaper company you worked for was located on the top floor. A local, independent newspaper that tried to focus on uncovering the truths the Daily Bugle would fabricate. Your company was barely staying afloat as it were. People enjoyed the gossip more than the truth. The struggling business thought today would be a wonderful time to allow their children to come and witness what their parents did each day. There were only about twenty employees total and, over half of you didn’t have children, so there weren’t that many kids in attendance. It was adorable at first. You got to meet your coworkers' kids and even got to snuggle with a five month old. You thought about texting Peter that you were coming down with a terrible case of baby fever but chose to wait until you saw him in person to spring the news on him. 

It was supposed to be a good day. 

Until it wasn’t.

“Hey,” your desk mate, Jenny, tapped you on the shoulder. She had her two twins in tow, Ollie and Ellie, the cutest set of four year olds you think you’d ever witnessed. “Would you mind watching these two while I run down to my car? I left my purse there. I’m parked in the garage just across the street. I shouldn’t be too long. It will take me ten times longer to drag them along with me.” 

You beamed, more than happy to oblige and help fuel your growing need for your own kids, “I would love to!” You turned your attention to the twins and gave them a wink. “I even have a secret stash of lollipops hidden in my desk. I was hoping to find someone to share them with.” 

Both their eyes lit up at the prospect of the sugary treats. 

Ellie squealed, “You can share with us! We’re good at sharing! Right, Ollie?” She elbowed her brother and he happily nodded in agreement. 

Jenny clasped her hands together in thanks, “You’re a lifesaver. I’ll be right back. You two be on your best behavior.” She ruffled the tops of their blonde heads before turning to hurry out of the office. 

You pulled open your desk drawer to show them the pile of lollipops hidden in there. Your inherent sweet tooth was worth any potential cavities. The sugar helped you get through your days of uncertainty, never knowing if the paper would go under or not. You rolled your chair out of the way to let the kids grab what flavor they wanted. 

Soon, the three of you stood around, lollipops sticking out of your mouths, while you waited for their mother to return. 

“Did you guys have fun today?” You asked. 

The twins both hopped into your chair, squished side by side, while you slowly spun them around. 

Ellie nodded, “Yeah. Mommy let us watch Moana on her phone.” 

That wasn’t exactly the answer you were looking for but a room full of introverted writers and stacks of newspapers everywhere wasn’t going to be the most fun for a young child. 

“I love Moana,” you sighed happily. “Maybe I’ll watch that when I go home tonight.” 

“I like Maui,” Ellie replied. “He’s funny. Will your mommy let you watch it on her phone?” 

You were starting to get the sense that Ellie was the dominant one of the twins. Ollie mostly grinned up at you, staying silent, with big, round eyes and cherry red staining his lips from the lollipop. He was adorable and you wanted nothing more than to eat him up. You really needed a baby of your own…

“I don’t live with my mom anymore,” you answered.

“You live alone?” She gasped, looking sad for your wellbeing, as if living alone was the worst thing her little mind could ever think of.  

You laughed, “No. I live with my boyfriend.”

Ellie made a long “ooooo” sound, followed by a fit of giggles, “A boyfriend! Is he handsome? Is he a prince?” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself, knowing Peter would get a kick out of this conversation, “Yes, I think he is very handsome and, no, he’s not a prince. Not in the royal sense, at least.” 

“I think Aladdin is handsome. I’m going to marry him,” Ellie paused to listen to what Ollie was now whispering in her ear. A mischievous grin spread across her face. “Ollie says he’s going to marry you when he grows up!” 

They both burst into high pitched giggles. 

“He thinks you’re pretty like Moana,” Ellie laughed. 

“I would be honored to marry Ollie,” you smirked, growing fonder of these two the more time you spent with them. Jenny had tried to get you to babysit for them before. You think it might be time to accept that offer. Peter and you could play house for a night. “I think he’s as sweet as a lollipop.” 

Ollie’s shoulders rose up to his ears as he shrunk into himself with a bashful smile, “I’m going to be Spider-Man when I turn 5. The real one. Not a pretend one.” His voice was hardly above a whisper and you had to lean forward to catch what he was saying. 

“You mean I’ll get to marry Spider-Man?” You widen your eyes in feign shock. Peter would absolutely love this conversation. You knew he would be just as smitten as you. “That sounds like a dream come true.” 

Ellie nudged his shoulder with hers, “He always says he loves Spider-Man because we saw him in real life one time. He swung above us when we were driving home from preschool. He waved at Ollie. It was so cool. We never saw a real live superhero before that. Mommy made us Spidey masks. I can tell her to make you one, too. Then we can all match.” 

“That sounds amazing. I think Ollie would make a wonderful Spider-Man some day.” 

“Are you guys talking about Spidey?” Harrison, the office college intern, strode up behind you with a coffee mug in hand. “He saved me one time. Some bad guys shoved me into an alley with guns to try and mug me. They were going to shoot me if I didn’t give them everything in my pockets.”

You shot him a death glare for talking about gun violence in front of the young children but he ignored you. He could tell he had them hooked with his story and was enjoying their attention. You rolled your eyes at the young man. You’d heard this tale about a hundred times before. He brought it up whenever he could. He finally had new and excited ears to listen to him. 

“Were you scared?” Ollie asked, his eyes wide . “I never sawed a real gun before.” 

“Yeah, I was so scared, but then something amazing happened.” Harrison knelt down to better hold their attention. “Spider-Man jumped down behind the bad guys. He was as silent as a cat. The bad guys didn’t even know he was there until he started talking.” 

“What did he say?” Ellie whispered, leaning in closer to catch every word. 

“He said, ‘Hey, assho- uh, I mean- hey, buttheads! You mind if I join in the fun?’ and then he started shooting his webs at them until they were all tangled up. He hung them off a street light like some human pinatas for the police to get. Then he came back with my wallet and phone in hand, tossed them over to me, patted me on the top of my head, and told me to enjoy my night.” Harrison ended his story with a satisfied sigh. 

You had asked Peter about the validity of the interns story once. He claimed he couldn’t remember the exact insistence but that it sounded like something he would do. Then he started bragging about how shocked Harrison would be if he knew you were sleeping with the “world famous” Spider-Man. That was when you had shut him up with a kiss before his boasting became too much. 

“I gotta go potty,” Ollie huffed, like it was such a shame to leave a conversation when they were discussing superheroes. You would have to get Peter to meet the kids some day in his suit. They would lose their minds. Actually, you should have him meet Harrison some time too, just to watch the young man fangirl. 

“It’s down the hall,” You pointed him in the right direction. There was only a single bathroom on the floor that the entire office had to share. 

Ollie jumped off the chair and made his way to the bathroom, pausing at the door to look over his shoulder at you. 

“That’s the one!” You called to him. “You found it! Yell if you need any help.”

He smiled and disappeared inside. 

“Did you get Spidey’s autograph?” Ellie asked Harison. 

He shook his head, “Sorry, kiddo. Not that time. I was too shaken up. If I ever meet him again, I’ll make sure to snag one for ya.” 

He tipped an invisible hat to the little girl and made his way back to his desk. Being the youngest in the office, he got stuck with the one directly next to the bathroom, in the spot no one else wanted. You watched him plop down into his rickety wooden chair and smile happily to himself. He was a good kid. Talented, with a lot of potential to be a future investigator and reporter. 

You finished your lollipop and tossed the stick in the trash, “What else did you like doing while you were here besides watching Moana and talking about Spider-Man?” 

Ellie shrugged, “Mommy let us color on some newspapers. I drew a cat farting out rainbows. We wanted to make a fort out of all the stacks of papers but she said it was too dangerous and might fall. She didn’t want us to get crushed. Can we look out the window to see if we can see her? I want to wave to her.” 

“Sure. Come on,” You took her tiny hand and helped her hop down from the chair. 

The best features of the old building were its large windows. They ran from the floor to the ceiling and had a beautiful arch at the top. They were the kind of windows you could happily stare out of for hours. 

Ellie pressed her nose up against the pane, her breath fogging up the glass, “I don’t see her yet.” 

You looked down, searching the sidewalks for Jenny, and shook your head, “Me either. I’m sure she’ll be back any moment. Keep an eye out for her.”

Your voice trailed off as something caught your attention. Two people were sprinting down the street, a look of sheer terror plastered on their face. Even from four floors up you could easily see how scared they were. The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly sprung to life as you watched more people round the corner. All running. All terrified. You couldn’t hear the screams behind the thick glass but you could see the way their faces contorted. 

They were screaming for their lives. 

You felt a strange disconnect between the people on the ground and yourself. Like watching a movie inside of a dream. They felt like they were in a different reality from your own. Behind the crowd appeared a giant ball of moving fire. It took a few seconds for your brain to process what you were seeing. The closer it got, the more you realized it wasn’t just fire. It was a man encased in the flames. At first you thought maybe he was on fire but then you realized he was the fire. He was controlling it and bending it to his will. He was what the people were running from. He was the danger they feared. 

He tossed fistfulls of balled up flames towards the running people and haphazardly shot them off into the windows of every building he passed. He was creating a flaming destruction in his wake. A villain who wanted to watch the city burn. 

And your building was next in line. 

Your hand immediately went to grab onto the back of Ellie’s shirt as your own reality finally caught up to crash with the people below. You dragged her down onto the floor just in time for the big window to explode into shards of flying glass and rain down over the tops of your heads as a ball of fire burst to life against the back wall. The wood paneling went up in flames in a matter of seconds. People were screaming as chaos broke out. They were grabbing their children and sprinting towards the nearest exit. Loose pieces of newspaper floated down around you, some igniting on fire mid flight, and sizzling to soot before they hit the ground. Glass fell from your hair to trickle down under your collar and rolled down your back as you pushed yourself onto your elbows. Ellie was whimpering beside you, tears filling her eyes, and she reached a shaky hand out to hold onto yours. You gripped it tightly, noting that she had a small, bloody cut across her cheek from where the glass hit her. 

“It’s okay,” you shouted to her. The wailing sounds of the fire alarm bursting to life deafened your words. You weren’t even sure Ellie could hear you but you were speaking more for yourself anyway. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We have to get up quickly and get out of here.” 

Tears brimmed in her eyes and you read her lips form the words, “You’re bleeding…” She pointed a fearful finger near your forehead. 

You reached up and felt a large, jagged piece of glass sticking out from over your eyebrow. You gripped onto the shard and pulled it from your skin. A rush of warm blood waterfalled down over your cheek, blurring into your eyes. You didn’t feel any pain. 

“We have to get up,” you shouted to her again. 

Ellie grabbed onto your hand as you both scrambled to your feet. 

An old, wooden building and a floor covered in newspapers were no match for the ravenous fire. It was rapidly engulfing everything it could devour. In the short amount of time you spent on the ground, half your office was gone. Between the blinding, red hot glow of the flames and the white flashing lights of the fire alarm, mixed with the deafening sounds, you were overwhelmed and disoriented. 

“Stairs…” You mumbled to yourself, trying to focus your panicked thoughts. “We have to get to the stairs.” 

Thick black smoke was already starting to fill the small space. Whatever limited vision you had seconds ago was quickly dissipating. You caught a glimpse of your boss ushering out the last few remaining employees out of the door. His arm motioned for you before a wall of smoke blocked him from view. At least you had the right direction. 

You tried your best to duck down low as you dragged Ellie behind you, keeping a death grip on her tiny hand, as you forged towards the direction of the stairs. She kept planting her heels into the ground and tugging against you. She was screaming something that couldn’t be heard over the wailing alarm. 

You yanked her by the arm up to your side and wrapped her in a tight embrace, “Stop fighting me! It’s okay! I’m going to get us out!” 

“Ollie!” She cried. “We have to get Ollie!” 

Your heart dropped into your stomach. She was right. 

Ollie was still in the bathroom. 

Your eyes scanned the room. You couldn’t see more than two feet in front of you. The smoke was starting to irritate your eyes. They burned and watered, the tears falling freely down your cheeks. 

You scooped Ellie up into your arms and sprinted as fast as you could towards the exit. Your thigh crashed into the corner of a flaming desk, sending your body jerking in the opposite direction, but you ignored the sharp pain and did your best to blindly correct your course. If you could just pass Ellie off to your boss then at least you wouldn’t have to worry about her safety while you tried to find Ollie. 

You stumbled to the exit, nearly slamming into the wall, only to find your boss already gone. You tried to pull open the door but reeled back when you felt white hot, searing pain burn into your palm. You couldn't hold back the scream of shock that burst out of you. The metal handle was impossible to hold onto with your bare skin. Thinking fast, you tried to wrap the bottom of your shirt around the handle to pull open the door. The pain still burned through the thin cotton but you managed to open it just enough to stick your foot through. You kicked the door open the rest of the way and shoved Ellie into the stairwell.

“Go down the stairs and out the door!” You shouted at her. “I’ll be right back!” 

The stairwell was pitch black apart from the flashing white light of the fire alarm. It made it difficult for your eyes to gain their bearings, making you feel off balance, like walking through a funhouse at a carnival. Ellie stood frozen in place. Her entire body was shaking with fear. Black soot was staining her skin. Her eyes were watering, either from crying or the smoke, as they illuminated with each flash of the light. Her pant leg was soaked through with urine pooling by her feet. At some point she had lost a shoe. You knew she was too petrified to move. 

“Ellie, go!” You tried to give her a small shove, knowing how important timing was to get to safety, but she didn’t budge.  

“Ollie’s scared!” She cried. “He’s scared. We have to get him. Don’t leave us! I want mommy. I want mommy. Where’s my mommy?” 

There was no time to think. No time to argue with her. No time to convince her. You were afraid that if you left her there, she wouldn’t move, or get lost, or trapped. You knew children’s instincts in fires were often to hide instead of run. You didn’t trust this 4 year old to make it out on her own. She would get lost in the crowds below. Swept away in a sea of people. You couldn’t leave her. The risk was too high. She had to come with you. 

You lunged for her hand, forcing the two of you down to your knees to army crawl under the smoke. It was getting harder to even see your two hands in front of your face. Sweat dripped down your back. Your lungs were starting to ache as they filled with toxic gas. Both you and Ellie kept coughing but you dragged her along beside you, refusing to let her out of your grasp. You knew if you let go, you wouldn’t be able to find her again. 

The wooden floors were heating up. Fire raged above you. It was on the ceiling now. Eating everything in its path. You prayed that Ollie was still inside the bathroom and that he was unharmed. You couldn’t see, struggled to breath, and your body was reaching unhealthy temperatures. 

Down the hall. 

That’s all you had to get to. Down the hall and first door on the right. 

A charred, wooden beam fell from the ceiling and landed directly against your right arm. The flames licked at your exposed skin as the wood splintered and cracked. You flinched away from the pain, nearly crawling on top of Ellie to get away from the heat. Fire was on nearly every side of you now. The left, the right, and above all glowed orange in the darkness. Orange every way you looked. It seared your retinas until all you could see was the blinding light. The heat was forcing you down as low as your body could manage, pressed tightly against the floor. 

You had no idea where in the office you were now. You didn’t know if you had traveled one foot or twenty. You just kept inching forward. You knew if you reached the back wall, you would have gone too far. 

This was a mistake. You should have gotten Ellie out first. You were leading her straight to her death. The flames would eat you both alive. 

The noise all faded into a constant loud roaring in your ears until it dulled into nothing like your ears decided to stop working. Instead, you felt the rumbling noise in your chest. Your brain was vibrating in your skull. Smoke blocked out the orange the further you crawled into the fire. It snuffed out everything in its wake. All you could see was black and all you could hear was your own blood pounding in your ears. It was like being in a terrible nightmare. If you closed your eyes, maybe you would wake up somewhere else. You felt like you were floating. Drifting. It was getting hard to breathe. You’d forgotten what fresh air felt like. Ellie was getting slower, too. You were having to drag her more. She was smaller than you. She would die first, you thought. 

A canary in the coal mine. 

You had to get to Ollie. And then what? You could hardly drag Ellie this far. There was no way you would be able to pull along two terrified children all the way back to the exit. There was no guarantee it would even still be accessible. This side of the building had no fire escapes. You’d get to the bathroom and then you’d be stuck. The three of you would be trapped inside. The fire was spreading too fast. You weren’t able to outrun it. 

Your hands bumped into something on the floor. The bump was enough to recenter your attention. You felt around with your free hand wondering if you had gone too far and hit the back wall. You fumbled around you with touch being your only working sense. This was no wall. It was something soft. Fleshy. Your hand found fingers. You traced up their arm and over their shoulder until you found a face. You dragged your body closer and tried to see through blurry, smoke filled eyes who it was. It was only when you were centimeters from their face, your noses touching, that you could make out any features. 

Harrison was staring back up at you. His bright blue eyes were unblinking. His face still. You shook his shoulder but his eyes showed no signs of life. Half of his face was bright red and outlined in charred black from where the fire had devoured his flesh. It had eaten him nearly down the skull. There was no breath in his lungs. No life in his eyes. He was gone. 

Dead. 

He had just turned 20 last month. 

Harrison’s desk was right next to the bathroom. 

That was the only thought you allowed yourself to think. Your emotions had disappeared along with your hearing. Your mind was set on a single track. 

Get to the bathroom. 

That was it. 

That was the goal. 

You crawled over Harrison’s body. Your knees sunk into his chest, feeling the crack of his ribs underneath you, as you pushed your weight off him to propel yourself forward. Ellie was like a dead weight, a ball and chain, attached to your arm that you had to drag along with you. Her head was lolling limply back and forth as you pulled her over the body after you. She wasn’t moving on her own anymore. Maybe she was dead, too. Maybe you were dragging the corpse of a child around. You didn’t know. You didn’t care. You just had to get the two of you to the bathroom. Dead or alive.

You used your hand to feel along the wall for the bathroom door. The old wallpaper bubbled under your skin. A part of your brain was telling you that what you were touching was extremely hot and burning your flesh but, since you no longer felt anything, you didn’t stop until your fingers brushed over a hinge. 

You scrambled around for the handle, gripping it tightly, and yanked open the door. Heavy black smoke immediately flooded into the tiny room. You quickly pulled Ellie and you onto the tiled floor and slammed the door closed with your foot. You lay staring up at the white ceiling being clouded with rising smoke. Your lungs sucked in the cleaner air. The fire hadn’t touched this room yet. Besides the smoke that you let in when you opened the door, it was relatively untouched. 

An oasis amongst the desert sands. 

You slowly let your eyes wander into the corner where Ollie sat huddled. His legs were pulled tight against his chest and his arms were clinging onto them. He stared at you with wide eyes, glancing tearfully between your soot covered face and his motionless sister. 

A surprised laugh fell from your lips which quickly turned into another coughing fit. You rolled onto your side, hacking up black saliva over the white floor. 

“You’re alive,” you croaked out to the scared little boy. 

You forced yourself to sit up. Wads of wet paper towels were lined up on the ground. You realized Ollie had stuffed them under the door to stop the smoke. Smart kid. They have been pushed to the side when you opened the door. You quickly bent down to shove them back into the cracks, keeping the smoke at bay, and then turned to find Ellie. 

She looked so small face down on the floor. Her pink t-shirt and blonde hair were now completely black. You rolled her onto her back in a daze. It was hard to think. Hard to move. You felt like your limbs were full of wet cement. You stumbled onto your feet, your head spinning with a pounding headache, and grabbed some brown paper towels from the dispenser. You tried to run them under the sink but the faucet wasn’t working so you dunked them into the toilet water instead. Then you turned to Ellie and began wiping the soot from her mouth and her blocked nostrils. Her chest rose with short, labored breaths. Her eyes were caked close from the greasy smoke residue so you tried your best to wipe them clean too. She was still alive but she wouldn’t be for much longer if she didn’t get out of here. There was no way you’d be able to carry her body back through those horrors with Ollie in tow. You were too weak. Too sick. The three of you were trapped. This would be your fiery coffin. 

“Spider-Man will save us.” 

Ollie’s tiny whisper hardly reached your broken ears. You gazed through half closed lids over your shoulder to look at the boy. You were starting to forget who he was or what his name was. His words felt foreign to you. All your thoughts were moving at a sluggish pace. 

Spider-Man. 

Save us. 

Yes…yes…Peter. 

You fumbled to grab your phone out of your pocket. Of course, Peter would save you. There was still hope. 

The black grime coating your fingers wouldn’t let you use the touch screen and you let out a frustrated cry.

“Siri!” You whined, the desperation heavy in your tone. “Call Peter Parker.” 

“Calling Peter Parker,” her pleasant, robotic tones echoed back to you. It was a stark contrast to the nightmare you were currently living through. 

You sunk against the wall, slumping into yourself, feeling like the world was spinning. Peter would know about the man with the fire. He would know he was on your street. He would know it was your building. He would have been searching for you right now. You’d just have to stay awake long enough for him to find you.

It rang twice before his panicked voice answered, “Where are you? Tell me you're safe.” He sounded breathless and far away to you, like listening to an echo bouncing off an underpass. Your body was starting to shut down. 

“Bathroom. Trapped.” It was all you could say before what little vision you had left started to fade. You didn't have much time left. The oxygen in the room was running out. 

A small hand wrapped over your wrist as the boy snuggled up to your side. 

Ollie. His name was Ollie. 

Ollie and Ellie. The cutest set of twins you had ever seen. 

It was supposed to be a good day. 

“Spider-Man is on the phone,” you mumbled to the frightened child. “Talk to him. He’ll keep…keep…keep you safe…he’ll find you…” 

Ollie picked up the phone. He was speaking into it but you couldn’t make out anything he was saying. You were floating away to wherever Ellie’s mind was currently being held. Someplace away from here. Away from the flames. Someplace without smoke. Somewhere you could breathe again. 

You were going to close your eyes. Just for a minute…one, little, short minute…

A crashing rumble of bricks being smashed startled you back to life. You tried to take in what was happening but your brain was stuck in a haze. One of your hands was clutched onto the front of Ellie’s shirt and the other was holding onto Ollie. Someone else was in the room with you. It was smokier than it had been when you had closed your eyes. Time had passed, that much you knew, though you were unsure how much. Something was breaking a wall. Bricks were flying. It was filling the room with white smoke to compete with the black and blocking out whatever sunlight was attempting to push through the holes being created. 

“It’s okay,” Ollie spoke into your ear as he curled up next to your side, noticing that you were awake again. “Spider-Man is here. He’s saving us just like you said.” 

Peter. 

Your sweet, beautiful Peter. You had no idea when he got here or how but he was here and he was breaking apart the side of the building with his bare hands so they could escape. 

You tried to focus your attention on Ellie. Her eyes were open now and she was curled onto her side. She was weak but somehow she was still alive.

The masked face of Spider-Man appeared in your line of sight. His hands were on either side of your cheeks as he cradled your face in his palms. 

“Stay with me. Don’t you drift off again. I’m getting you out of here.” 

There was a steadfast determination in his voice. Many months ago he once told you that he refused to ever let you die. You had laughed at him then, telling him that was impossible, not even Peter Parker could control death. He had told you it didn’t matter. He would fight Death himself with nothing but his two fists if it meant getting to hold onto you for another day. 

He had meant it then and he was proving it now. 

“Get the kids first,” you croaked. “Get Ellie to an ambulance.” 

“I can hold all of you at the same time!” He bent down to scoop Ellie into his arms. She offered no resistance but was too weak to hold onto him herself. Her head flopped against his shoulder and her eyes closed. Ollie leapt up into his other arm and clung tightly around his neck. 

He couldn’t hold all of you and manage his webs at the same time. He was lying to himself and to you. 

“Can you get on my back?” He tried to fight the reality he was being faced with. He didn’t want to leave you behind but you both knew the children needed to be evacuated first. As stubborn as he was, not even Peter would choose you over them. Children came first. Always. That was the life and sacrifice of a hero. 

“Peter,” you ordered, forcing what little energy you had into your words. “Take the kids. Hurry. You’re wasting time.” 

The fire was at the door. You could feel its heat on your back as you leaned against the wall. The smoke was pushing through the cracks. The wet paper towels had long since failed their duty at keeping it at bay. Time was slipping through your fingers.  

“I’ll be right back!” He shouted. “Stay alive or I’m going to kill you.” 

Then he was gone. 

The smoke was becoming too much. The heat was getting too strong. It forced you to drag yourself across the floor towards the hole in the wall. You let your head hang outside, gulping at the fresh air as the black smoke rose above you. The smell of singed, burning hair hit your nose. You could see the ends sizzling orange from your peripheral vision. You were starting to feel pain again as some of your senses slowly returned. You looked down at the pavement four stories below you. It was getting too hot to bear. Your skin was screaming. A part of you wanted to keep dragging your body into the fresh air even if it meant you’d fall. For that one second of falling, you’d be free from the oppressive heat. Behind you meant death. In front of you meant death. 

All that you had left was Peter. 

At least the kids were out. If you were able to accomplish anything today, it was that. 

Even if Peter did most of the work. You were able to start what he could finish. 

Your lids felt heavy. Your breath was weezing. Your chest ached and your right fist was clenched close from the pain. The skin on your palm was black and peeling from where you had gripped onto the burning door handle. You wanted it all to be over. 

The pavement never looked so enticing. 

It was supposed to be a good day. 

You dragged yourself further out the hole so your entire chest was now hanging over the edge. Your body was craving the clean air. It desperately wanted to escape the heat. You pulled yourself a little further. Inch by inch. Flirting with the idea of death. 

“Oh, no you don’t!” 

The scruff of your shirt was balled into a fist as you were lifted upright into the safety of Peter’s arms. You were swinging through the air. The wind in your face never felt so delicious as it slid down your shriveled lungs. He was holding you tightly to his chest and using one arm to swing you away from the burning building. 

Tears sprung into your irritated, red eyes. 

You were out. Free from the fire. Free from the smoke. Alive. 

“I got you, baby,” he chirped against your ear. “I got you. I’m not letting you go anywhere I can’t follow.” 

He landed softly on a rooftop a few blocks from the chaos. There were people who still needed his help. A villain to be fought. Damage control be done. 

But he didn’t care about any of that. 

Peter placed you delicately onto your bottom on the roof and he knelt down in front of you, tugging off his mask to get a proper look. 

“I’m going to bring you straight to the hospital but I need to see you first,” he whispered. “I just need to look at you…make sure you’re still here with me.” 

He slipped his hands free from his gloves to push back your singed hair from your face. He grabbed his mask to carefully wipe away some of the soot from your eyes. 

“You look like you clawed your way straight outta hell,” he smiled down at you but his eyes held his real feelings of worry behind them. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. You both knew how close to losing you he had come today. 

You cracked a half hearted smile of your own, “I think I did.” Your voice was unrecognizable to your own ears and a constant, high pitched shrieking sound kept ringing in your head. 

“You’re okay,” he asked. 

You weren’t sure if it was meant as a question for you to answer or a statement he was speaking to help ease his anxious heart. 

“I’m okay,” you replied. “I’m alive, at least.” 

The further away you got from the fire, the more pain you started to feel. It wasn’t just your hand that was hurting now, the pain was shooting all the way down your back, and your right arm felt stiff and unable to move.

“I told you I wouldn’t ever let you die. That’s not allowed. We’re going to die together, hand in hand, snuggled up in bed like The Notebook.” Peter leaned his forehead against your own and took a deep breath. 

“Okay,” you mumbled, lost in the moment of softness, until the thought of Ellie and Ollie crashed to the surface. You gasped and jerked away, horror etched onto your face. “The twins!” 

He tugged you to him, kissing your temple, “They’re safe. I send them off in an ambulance. I think the little boy will be fine. The girl looked like she was suffering from serious smoke inhalation. I had to give her CPR when I showed up. She wasn’t breathing. I got her to wake up. She’ll be seen right away. Speaking of which-” He stood back up, pulling his gloves and mask back on. “The hospital is exactly where we need to get you.” 

Peter scooped you back into his arms and hopped onto the ledge of the roof, “You ready?” 

“I’m ready.” 

[jessybarnes]

Fixer Upper

Pairing - Mechanic!Jensen x Single Mom!Reader

Rating - 18+ Only! Minors DNI

Tags - Angst, Anxiety, Fluff, SMUT, broke down car, walking alone on a deserted road, being a single mom, mentions of an ex, mentions of abuse, NSFW gifs, unprotected sex, reader on top, Jensen on top, and I think that’s it, but let me know if I need to add more to the tags. 

Word Count -  2.4k

Beta - @winecatsandpizza

Fic Aesthetic - Yours truly

A/N - This is a repost from my old Tumblr account. I am in the process of transferring all of my fics over to this blog. I hope you enjoy! :)

“Dammit!”

You slammed the driver’s door to your car and kicked it for good measure. A new car was definitely a need, but who could afford one in this economy? Much less a tow truck and a mechanic. To top it all off, your AAA membership you had expired a month ago. Part of you wanted to just set the hunk of metal on fire, but that would make you feel better for all of five minutes before you’d really be shit out of luck. 

The afternoon sun reflected off the hood as you reached for the release latch. As soon as you lifted it up, hot grey smoke poured out making you cough. 

“Well, that’s just fuckin’ perfect. Icing on the damn cake.”

You put your hands on your hips and turned to look at the long stretch of highway that went in both directions. Not only was your car broken down on the side of the road, but the nearest town was at least twenty minutes in both directions. To make things even more annoying, your phone had died about ten minutes before your car did so it looked like the only thing left to do was to start walking. 

Grabbing your keys and purse, you locked the car and started walking along the shoulder of the road. At least it was nice out, not a cloud in the sky, and fairly warm. The faint feeling of a summer breeze blew strands of hair out behind you as your car became smaller and smaller in the distance. A fence came into view after about fifteen minutes of walking, and if you were being honest with yourself, it was pretty inviting. 

You brushed one of the wooden planks off and plopped down on it with a sigh. Maybe your Mother was right, maybe you should have moved back in with her until you could get back on your feet. But no, you just had to be stubborn and prove to her that you could make it on your own as a single mother. Swallowing your pride wasn’t something that came easily for you. So, you’d do what you always do and find a way to fix whatever was broken. 

Just as you were about to get up and start walking again, a red Chevy truck came into view. You had never thought about hitchhiking, but the thought of it driving past seemed worse than the former. Your hands waved to get the driver’s attention and then gave him room to pull off on the shoulder of the road. What you weren’t expecting was the most gorgeous man you have ever seen get out and approach you. 

“Everything okay, ma’am?”

Your mind was still reeling from the fact that this man was talking to you when you realized he’d asked you a question. 

“Umm yeah, I uhh…my car broke down and my phone died so umm…I was just going to walk until I found civilization.”

A look of concern flashed across his face as he looked around. 

“How long have you been out here walking? I don’t see a car anywhere.”

You shrugged like it was no big deal and gestured in the direction of your unreliable hunk of metal. 

“Cars a ways that way. I’ve been walking for maybe twenty minutes? I don’t know. I kinda lost track of time.” 

The man shook his head and looked firmly down at you. 

“Yeah, I’m not letting a pretty lady walk alone on this stretch of road. At least let me take you and your car back to my shop. You look like you could use a break.”

Did you die and go to Heaven? There is no way that you got this lucky. The one car you see on this deserted road turns out to be a mechanic and he’s this good-looking? Yeah, no, things like this didn’t happen to you. 

“Thank you, sir. I don’t have much money, but I can give you what I have for gas.”

He shook his head again and opened the passenger side door. 

“Please, call me Jensen. I don’t want your money, sweetheart. It sounds like you need it more than I do.” 

“Thanks, and you can call me Y/N.”

You smiled at him and climbed into the cab of his truck. The ride to your car and back to his shop took less time than you anticipated. You quickly found yourself warming up to Jensen. He radiated kindness and you felt like you’d known him for years. You told him you were a single mother, and how your daughter was staying with your parents until you got yourself moved into your new apartment. Mentions of your ex came up, but you tried to avoid delving too much into your past life with Tanner. He’d been abusive, and you pushed those memories to the back of your mind at all costs. 

Jensen pulled his truck into a big open yard and you noticed an arched sign that read Singer’s Auto stood high above the entrance. He lowered your car to the ground and unhooked it from the hitch before leading you inside. 

“Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got water, coffee, sweet tea, whiskey, rum, and any type of soda you can imagine.”

For the first time all day, your smile met your eyes. This man was too good to be true. If only you could be in a relationship with something this amazing. Jensen had to be either gay or unavailable because there was no way he was single with a personality like this. Let alone his looks. 

“I’d like some sweet tea, please. Thank you so much for doing all this. I’m sure you’ve got a family to get home to, and the last thing you probably wanted to do today was help a hitchhiker and her piece of shit car.”

The confused look he gave you made you instantly regret your words. Here was this man going out of his way to help you, and your brain-to-mouth filter probably just fucked everything up. You didn’t want him to think that you didn’t appreciate everything.

“Don’t get me wrong, Jensen. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I just have this mindset where I wait for the other shoe to fall. I’ve never really done well in the relationship department, and I’ve always been let down eventually. You’ve only just met me and you don’t need this kind of turmoil. I should probably go. I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

It took a moment for Jensen to get his bearings, but once he did you felt his hand gently grab your wrist. He slowly spun you around to face him, and his eyes bore into yours with a fire you hadn’t seen on a man before. 

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart wait a minute. Can’t a guy just help a beautiful lady out without her thinking she’s being a burden? Y/N, listen, I’m not doing this because I feel like I have to. I’m doing this because I want to. There’s just something about you, something that draws me in, and I can’t seem to put a finger on it.”

For a few minutes, you both were silent. Staring into each other’s eyes with such intensity made you want to look away, but something stronger kept your gaze locked onto his. Ever so slowly, Jensen closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss you. His kiss ignited a fire in your core that had been dormant for as long as you could remember. 

When he pulled away, his pupils were just as lust blown as your own. Soon you were pushed against the nearest wall, his work uniform becoming disheveled along with your outfit. 

“I don’t know what it is Jensen, but I have never wanted someone so much in my life. I only just met you, and the thoughts I’m having scare me, but at the same time it’s thrilling.”

Your hands came to rest on his muscular chest as his hands cupped your face. 

“It scares the shit out of me too, Y/N, but I really want this,” 

Jensen admitted as he continued to devour your body with his eyes.  

“Do you want this as much as I do? If you don’t, we can stop. I’ll fix your car and we can both be on our way.  If you’d let me, though, I’d love to show you what it’s like to have a real man, Y/N.”

Instead of answering him, you pressed your lips firmly against his. Immediately his arms traveled down your small frame and came to rest on the back of your thighs. Without breaking the kiss, you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. His clothed erection pressed against your pussy making a small moan escape your mouth. 

Jensen began leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He grabbed one of your breasts in each hand and began to massage them gingerly, his thumbs grazing over your nipples making them harden instantly. 

“You have entirely too many clothes on Y/N.”

You smirked and stepped away, slowly unbuttoning your shirt. It sent heat straight to your core seeing the effect you had on Jensen. His eyes roamed your body like a starving man, and the arousal in his pants was hard to miss. 

“You know, I’m no expert on lovemaking, but I’m pretty sure it’s easier to do when you’re naked, Jensen.”

A low growl escaped his throat as he stalked toward you like he was a predator. He picked you up and flung you over his shoulder making you squeal. 

“Jensen! Put me down! Where are we going?!”

“Bedroom.”

The one simple word held many promises as he climbed the stairs with ease. Seconds later you were placed gingerly on the comforter of his bed. He only left you for a moment to turn the light off and shut the door, and then he was on you again. His calloused hands pushed your shirt off your shoulders and slowly pulled it off each of your arms. 

Even though he was undressing you agonizingly slow, you relished in the fact that a man was paying this much attention to you. Your ex was a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of guy who was only interested in getting off before going back to his video games. Your mind completely forgot about your ex as soon as Jensen pulled down your bra exposing your breasts, his lips closed over one of your hardened nipples greedily sucking into his mouth. 

“Mmmm Jay … Fuck that feels so good”

He moved to the other nipple paying it as much attention before leaving a trail of kisses down to your navel. 

“You’re so beautiful Y/N”

Jensen made quick work of the rest of your clothes before taking his off as well. If you thought he was gorgeous with clothes on, he was even more glorious without them. Perfect was the only description appropriate for the man that stood before you. 

“C’mere Jensen. I won’t bite.”

You winked at him invitingly, and he let out this full-body laugh that was contagious.

“Y/N I don’t know if I believe that.”

He climbed onto the bed and positioned his body over yours before pulling you in for another kiss. His tongue swept your lower lip asking for permission which you granted almost immediately. Your body arched up, his cock hard as a rock pressing against your leg.

“Please … need you.”

Jensen smirked against your pulse point, grinding himself along your slick folds. 

“Gonna have to be a little more specific Princess. Where do you need me exactly?”

If you could form a coherent thought you’d make a smart-ass comment, but right now you barely knew your name. Much less able to speak in full sentences. 

“Fuck me, Jay! Wanna feel your cock inside me. Please!”

Jensen lined himself up and slowly thrust inside you, his cock filling you up inch by inch was almost enough to make you cum right then. It had been a while since you’d been with a man, and he hadn’t prepped you. 

“Unnghh fuck … you’re so wet and tight for me, Y/N.”

Your nails dug into his biceps, his forehead resting on yours as you both got used to each other. 

“Make love to me, Jay.”

Ever so slowly, he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you. His moans were barely heard over your cries of need. The steady rhythm of his cock hitting your sweet spot made the coil in your lower belly tighter and tighter. You wouldn’t last long with him like this, and you wanted desperately to make him cum with you. 

“Let me ride you, Jensen.”

The look he gave you was almost primal. In a matter of seconds, he had flipped over onto his back and helped you sink down onto his throbbing length. 

“Christ, Y/N, I’m not gonna last like this.”

Using the muscles in your thighs, you rose up off his cock and looked deeply into his eyes.

“Neither will I, Jay. Want you to cum with me.”

His hands held onto your sides as you began to ride him. His hips rose to meet yours, thrusting his cock deeper into your soaked cunt, and pretty soon he was completely in control again. Your cries echoed off the walls as your climax neared. 

“J-Jay! I … I’m so close baby! Please … make me cum!”

One of his hands left your side and began rubbing circles around your clit.

“Your wish is my command, princess.”

Seconds later, he felt your walls tighten around his cock, as you both fell over the edge together. Your chest heaved as you aid beside him on the bed. He covered you up before cradling your face and kissing you sweetly.

Jensen pulled away, his smile met his eyes as he looked at you with nothing but love.

“So, how about some sweet tea?”

[bellysoupset]

Wendy and Vince - Purposefully overeating part 2. NSFW

Hi, hello. This is kink. This is fetish writing. No one look at me for one thousand years. 😳

Read part 1 here

-----------------------------------

“Can I sleep with you?”

Wendy let out a sigh, crouching down in front of Livia and brushing the girl’s hair back, “how about you sleep over tomorrow night? Then Monday I can take you to class with Vin?” 

The little girl’s pout cleared up as she nodded eagerly, “can you braid my hair?”

“Yes, I can braid your hair,” Wendy grinned, planting a kiss on Liv’s brow, “now up to bed, c’mon. I’ll help you brush your teeth.” 

“You’re getting exploited, Wendy,” Giuseppe warned her from the couch, as Wendy guided the little girl up the stairs, holding her hand, “keep giving her an inch and she’ll take the whole mile.”

“I don’t mind,” Wendy shrugged and she really meant it. She had never been the type to like children, but she didn’t actively dislike them either. However, Vince adored Livia so much that Wendy couldn’t help but have it rub off on her. It helped that Liv was very much like her brother, all touchy and sweet, it was like looking at a little girl version of him.

“Vincenzo, help me with the tupperwares, will you?” Wendy heard as Ma called from the kitchen and Vince got up with a small sigh from the dining table. He had already polished off two servings of dinner — veal chops with fava beans and radishes — and had been previously munching on cookies while helping with the dishes, before his mother banished everyone from the kitchen as she sorted through the leftovers. 

Livia was sleepy already, so it wasn’t hard to put her to bed, watching her brush her teeth and change into PJs, before crawling under the blankets with her stuffed animals. Most of them were purple and Wendy snorted as she wondered how did the child not suffocate with that many plushies surrounding her.

“Goodnight, Wendy,” Liv whispered, curling up and pressing her face to the belly of her stuffed bear.

“Goodnight, sugar,” Wendy leaned in, kissing the top of her head and then making sure Liv’s night light was on, casting stars on the wall it was plugged to, and walking out of the bedroom. Vince was just outside, in the hallway, and she jumped, “how long you’ve been there?”

“Just got here,” Vince shrugged, as Wendy pulled the door half closed, “just wanted to kiss Liv goodnight, then we can leave.”

“Are you still-”

He rolled his eyes, circling her and whispering in her ear, “yeah, I’m still sure.” 

Wendy’s face burned and she fought the urge to squirm, leaning against the hallway wall as Vince disappeared inside the bedroom to kiss his baby sister goodnight. 

She walked back downstairs, instead of waiting for him, and paused in the staircase, watching Giuseppe and Magda cuddled up on the couch, chatting over some soap opera, while Sophia was sprawled on the opposite couch with her face buried in her phone. It was such a domestic, mundane scene and yet Wendy couldn’t remember ever seeing her parents do that. 

“Let’s go?” Vince wrapped his arms around her from behind and Wendy nodded, leaning her back against his stomach. She could just feel his belly pressing on her back and it was comfortable more than anything. 

“Wendy, the basket on the left is for you,” Ma called as they entered the living room, Vince passing Wen her purse and going to retrieve all the leftovers his mom so happily separated for him. 

“That’s too much, Ma-”

“Nonsense,” the woman scoffed, “you live alone, you’re a doctor, you don’t have time to cook and I don’t want you eating garbage. I put in some jars of my sauce and the premade pasta, there’s torrones- Oh! And the big metal jar is for Leo and Jonah, tell them congratulations for the engagement. It’s chocolate coated cookies- Leo likes chocolate, right?”

“He loves it,” Vince said truthfully, while Wendy eyed the huge amount of food with a guilty conscience. Ever since her and Vin had gotten back together and gotten in the routine of long distance, she had been barely feeding herself. 

“It’s still too much-”

A string of annoyed italian words interrupted her, Ma getting up from the couch and angrily grabbing the basket, shoving it in Wendy’s hands, “don’t be rude,” the woman berated her, “buona notte, bambina. Buona notte, mio cucciolo.” 

Wendy hugged the woman with one arm, the other one busy holding all the things she had been given, “buona notte, ma,” she felt very proud of mimicking the accent. 

Vince answered his parents in Italian, exchanging some rapid fire words with Sophia, who didn’t even bother looking up from her phone and then they were out of the house.

“You have got to stop fighting her,” Vince berated lightly, as they entered the car, “the more you say you don’t want food, the more she thinks you’re embarrassed and she needs to feed you.”

“I need to start paying your mom somehow,” Wendy scoffed, putting the seatbelt on, “she’s spending a fortune.”

“She can quit whenever she wants,” Vince shrugged. He started the car and then planted a hand on his stomach, rubbing it lightly. All thoughts about his mother flew out of Wendy’s mind and she stared at his hand.

“So what’s for dinner?”

“Pizza,” Vince drove out of his street, “I’m thinking vegetarian?” 

“Uhum,” Wendy licked her lips, then reached in and touched her boyfriend’s stomach. A jolt went up her hand as she felt how full his belly already was, rounding out nicely under his sweater, “you ate a lot already.”

“Please,” Vince snorted, “that was nothing.”

It was still early, barely past nine, and most restaurants were open and with people coming and going. They parked across a small cantina, near Vince’s place, and sat in the far back, in the most reclusive spot. 

If Vince was honest, he was already feeling quite full. Ever since deciding they’d do this, five hours ago, he had been eating non stop. Two sandwiches, two servings of dinner and who knows how many cookies and juice were packed in his gut, so he was far from hungry… But nowhere near queasy, which was their end result.

Vin leaned back after they ordered, half listening as Wendy rambled on nervously — she was always chatty, but when feeling awkward it seemed to go up a notch —, too preoccupied taking all of her in. 

He missed her so much, it wasn’t even funny. Wendy continued to talk as he reached in, pushing a wavy strand of hair behind her ear and letting his hand linger, tracing the soft curve of her jaw. She had baby cheeks and he loved them, freckles dusting the bridge of her button nose, lips that curved up on a perfect, pouty shape, no cupid’s bow. 

Tonight she was wearing glittery eyeshadow and dark mascara, speckles of pink glitter clinging to her lids and the inner corner of her eyes, making her green eyes sparkle. 

“-I don’t know, I just think if the concussion rate is so high, why aren’t they doing anyt-” Wendy interrupted herself, “are you listening to me?” 

“I am,” Vince nodded, but instead of repeating what she was saying, he tugged on the belt loop of his girlfriend’s jeans and pulled her closer to him in their little booth, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, “I was just looking at you.”

“Staring,” she corrected, but melted against him, sliding a hand around his middle in an inconspicuous manner. It made his tummy fill with butterflies. Vince pulled her even closer, pressing a kiss to her temple as Wendy hugged him by the middle. 

They had ordered a large veggie pizza with a side of pesto sauce and Vin immediately went at it, while Wendy slid from under his arm, aimlessly biting on the crust of his pizza. 

“You’re not gonna help?” Vince whined, after he cleared up his first slice entirely and opened the sparkling water bottle. Wendy wrinkled her nose. 

“I’m not hungry anymore,” she reached in, wrapping a curl of his around her index finger, then letting her nail trace his prickly cheek, “you’re gonna finish the whole pizza?”

“Not sure,” Vince tore the second slide apart, fidgeting a little on his seat. He was already starting to feel his pants dig on him, “gonna try.”

Halfway through Vince was forced to pull back, breathing strongly through his nose and planting a hand on his stomach, grateful that they had picked such a reclusive corner and that their table disguised his movement. He was packed full, it was hard to breathe, and Vince let out a groan. 

Wendy leaned in, her whole face flushed. For the longest minutes she had been trying and sort of failing to strike up conversation, blushing and squirming whenever he let out any noise indicating how full he was or had to pause before taking another bite. 

“Vin?”

“Just- Just a sec…” he cupped his mouth, trying to force up a belch, but nothing came up. His belly throbbed with the sheer volume of what was inside of it and Vince groaned, throwing his head back, “fuck.”

“Vince,” now her voice wasn’t just breathless and excited, but there was concern tinging it, “honey, let’s stop-”

“Wendy,” he leveled her with a glare and his girlfriend snapped her mouth shut. Vince gulped down the tight knot in his throat and forced another breath, “just give me a minute, okay?”

“Okay,” she moved even closer in the booth, pushing his hair back, unable to keep her hands to herself, “deep breaths.”

“I’m not even nauseous,” he said quietly, blushing and looking around. It was getting rather late and no one was paying them any mind. Across the restaurant, leaning on the bar, the waiters were talking, just occasionally sparing them a glance. There were two other couples, far from them, enthralled with each other. “Just full.”

“Do you wanna get the rest of this to go?” Wendy leaned in, whispering in his ear, “and maybe dessert too?”

The thought of eating dessert on top of all that food made a twinge of nausea blossom inside his gut. Vince thought about it, then nodded, turning his head to capture her lips into a kiss. 

Wendy let out a little happy noise, cupping his cheeks and then pulling back just enough to breathe. 

She didn’t say anything else and Vince didn’t need her to. With the help of their seat, he pushed himself up and then groaned out loud as the movement made his insides start to churn. Wendy got up as well, squeezing his arm in a sympathetic manner.

“Go sit in the car, I got the bill,” she tiptoed to kiss his cheek and Vince lowered himself slightly to allow her. He stared at his shoes, trying to muster up the energy to walk to the car when it felt like there was a huge brick sitting in his middle.

“Did you see who was inside?” Wendy asked, carrying a white to-go box as she walked out of the restaurant; There was an excited thrill in her voice, green eyes alight with mischief.

Vince was leaning against the hood, near the headlights, staring at his feet and grimacing as he felt the bellyache build. The little nausea twinge was still there, making him reconsider the idea of eating another bite.

“Uhm?”

“Your new bestie,” his girlfriend teased, putting the food in the dashboard and then circling the car, slotting herself between his arms, “Daniels.”

“What- Wendy,” Vince waved the subject away, he didn’t care if Daniels had been inside the restaurant or not, he cared that he was feeling increasingly pukey and he didn’t want to barf outside of his place. That would ruin the whole night, “honey, let’s go home.”

“Yeah?” Wendy pressed him back against the car, on her very tippy toes to keep kissing him, clutching the front of his shirt, “you ate too much?”

“Fuck yeah, I ate too much,” Vince sighed, “you don’t want me to puke on you, let’s go home.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she teased him, causing Vince to let out a surprised, startled chuckle and clutch at his stomach. 

“Oh my god, Wendy, get inside the car, you perv!” he exclaimed, still chuckling, a cramp gripping the insides of his stomach. He tried to swallow air and force up a burp, but the bubble he could immediately feel forming in his belly came up and then fizzled out in his throat. 

“Okay, okay,” Wendy pecked his lips, “just hold on a little bit more, Vin…” 

There was no way he could drive, nor did she want him to. Wendy was focusing on the drive, but her cheeks were a delicious strawberry shade and one of her hands was off the steering wheel, resting on his thigh… Tracing little invisible patterns there, up and down and then a circle…

“Hurts right here,” Vince bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile, as he took his girlfriend’s dainty hand and pressed it to his stuffed belly, "it's so heavy, Wen…” 

She let out a forceful breath through her nose, squeezing the steering wheel, “you’re terrible…” there was a whine to her voice and Vince felt a smidge of pride bubble in his chest. The fact he knew she was so turned on by him, every little part of him. 

Vince squirmed, planting his hand over hers and pushing it in, leaning in and almost pressing his forehead to the dashboard. The added pressure caused his overpacked stomach to gurgle angrily and next to him Wendy let out a noise in the back of her throat, her fingers curling against his shirt. 

“Don’t… Don’t puke yet,” she bossed, voice all breathy and Vince shook his head, sitting up straight. 

“Not gonna,” he thumped on his chest, forcing up a tiny little burp that brought no relief, “not there yet.” 

“Good,” she pulled her hand back, clearing her throat and rolling down the window, as if the car was too stuffy. Vince appreciated it, even if it wasn’t done for his benefit. The light breeze helped some.

His tiny house was really just a large living room with a bathroom, that he had slotted in separate rooms, creating his tiny bedroom, kitchen, living room. He didn’t fit lying back on the couch, but that didn’t stop Wendy from promptly pushing him against it as soon as they got inside. 

“Easy,” Vince glared at her, sitting down and spreading his legs, throwing his head back, “c’mere, honey.” 

She took his hand in hers, but instead of sitting on his lap, as Vince was pulling her to, Wendy sank down to her knees between his legs and reached for his jeans. The buttons were pressing against his belly and Vin let out a moan as she undid his fly, tugging on the pants to give his stomach more space. 

“Better?” 

“Uh-hu,” he cupped her face, thumb on her chin, forcing their eyes to meet and making an amused face, “sorta counter intuitive with your goal, though.” 

“I’m not in a rush,” Wendy shrugged, although the rasp in her voice said the opposite. She leaned in, kissing the little sliver of exposed stomach, then grabbing his shirt and rolling it up, lips pressing against his full belly as she continued kissing up. 

Vince stripped down the shirt, throwing it to the left and letting out a groan as Wendy moved up, body draping over him and capturing his lips with hers. It felt like her hands were everywhere. Pressing against his unsettled tummy, index finger circling lazily against his belly button, roaming up his chest, curling in his hair-

He turned his face and muffled a thick, relieving burp against her neck and Wendy moaned in his ear, haphazardly grabbing his face and kissing him with renewed fervor. Vince pulled back after a second, pressing his forehead to hers and taking a measured breath. The bigger belch had cleared up some space, so he whispered, “didn’t you say something about dessert?”

Wendy pulled back, stunned and then glared down at his packed belly. It was rounding out, still gurgling and snarling, “are you sure?”

“Yes,” Vince’s voice was decisive. There was a manic glint to her eyes that made him feel warm all over, he wanted to see how much more he could push. If he could make her cum without even touching her. Probably, judging by the way Wendy’s chest was heaving as if she was the one struggling to breathe. 

She got up to retrieve the to-go box from the small table that marked his “kitchen”, then walked back to the couch, crawling on it and sitting on his lap with a happy sigh, “I got you blueberry pie,” she opened the cardstock box, “I figured you didn’t like it too much…?”

“I don’t,” Vince frowned, “so why…?”

“I don’t want to ruin a dessert you actually like,” Wendy shrugged, tearing the lid of the box off without a thought and throwing it on the ground. There was a plastic fork and she dug into it with glee, squirming on his lap to get more comfortable. Vince opened a smile as he could feel just how turned on she was, a hard on pressing against his thigh. 

He leaned back and obediently opened his mouth, resting his hands on her ass. 

It wasn’t his favorite, but it was still really good. Even full as he was, Vince’s mouth still watered at the sweet taste and he happily ate the two first bites. It was the third bite that turned sour.Wendy had gotten him two slices, about 5 bites each, and Vince eyed it wearily as he struggled to swallow. 

Her eyes were trained to his face and she pulled back, raised the fork and an eyebrow, “Vin?”

He forced the bite down, then grimaced, smacking his sticky lips together and clearing his throat, “not feeling so hot, honey.”

She bit down her lip, looking conflicted, cheeks aflame, “do you want me to-”

“Gimme another bite,” Vince opened his mouth, squeezing her thighs and Wendy didn’t need to be told twice. 

The smell, fruity and sickening sweet, made him want to gag, but he took the fourth bite and then the fifth, finishing the first slice. Immediately he brought up a hand to his mouth and let out a little sickly burp, followed by another… A bigger belch, thick and tasting disgustingly of his dinner and Vince heaved, but didn’t bring up anything. 

He whined, leaning forward and his forehead met her collarbone, since Wendy was taller sitting on his lap.

“Shhh,” she whispered in his ear, a hand rubbing up and down his back, “I got you…”

It wasn’t enough. A horrible threshold between feeling like absolute garbage, but so horny and unable to act on either. Vince moaned, swallowing air and forcing up a little burp, squeezing her close, “my stomach… Fuck, Wen, it’s all churning and…” his mouth watered, not with hunger, but revulsion and Wendy squeezed her legs around him. 

“It’s not sitting well…?” This was dirty talk and Vince knew it. Thinking of everything that was packed inside of him only made him feel worse – the sandwiches, veal chops, the pizza, pie –, and yet he leaned into it, voice thick and words sticking together. 

“No… No, I think the pie- I think it wants up,” he gagged and a thin dribble of saliva rushed up, bringing with it the crumbs– Vince wasn’t playing it up as he retched suddenly, grabbing Wendy’s shoulder and pulling her back to avoid puking on her. A thin, watery dribble of sweet smelling vomit fell on their laps and Vince’s back arched with another violent heave, but nothing else came up. 

He forced up a burp and Wendy cupped his face, “oh honey,” she sounded more than breathless, almost dizzy. In his badly lit living room he could see the green of her eyes was almost gone, pupils blown, “darling…” fingers caressing his cheek, so gentle and then saying, “do you want more?”

“Fu-Uck!” The thought of eating even another bite had his stomach squeezing and Vince retched, bringing a much thicker wave of vomit. It splashed on his undone jeans and Wendy’s baby blue ones, a terrible shade of brown mixed with streaks of blue, splatters hitting his naked stomach and pure disgust washed over him, causing him to heave again.

Wendy let out a little noise, squeezing his nape, nails sinking on him and Vince gasped for air, closing his eyes and trying to quell the nausea. This was enough, he was done- A rumbly burp came from the pits of his stomach and he gagged, bringing up a thin dribble of puke and breathing heavily. 

“Wen-”

“I’m here, I’m here-” she pressed her lips to his temple, “deep breaths, baby, it’s over. Let your tummy settle-”

“No, Wen-” he squeezed her arm, squirming on the couch as hot nausea continued to churn in his belly, “Wen-” her name up in a retch and he thought of the sheer amount of food, flashes of everything he had consumed appearing in front of his eyes. It was like he could taste every bite all over again.

Vince pushed Wendy off his lap slightly, spreading his legs and grabbing his bloated stomach, shame be damned, no longer giving a crap about the mess- Wendy’s hand found it’s way to his tummy as well, pressing in. Gentle, but steady, deeper- 

The next heave was productive and Vince made a horrible choking noise and a large wave of vomit covered his jeans and splashed between his boots. He gasped for air, goosebumps running up and down his arms, head twirling with the lack of oxygen. 

Wendy was rubbing his back, her mouth pressed to his naked shoulder, no longer bothering to say anything- He wiped his mouth and the tears clinging to his lashes and then groaned, falling back against the couch’s back. 

“Vin?” Her hand on his naked chest, massaging it in circles. Sweet, voice concerned, “honey?”

He turned his head lazily and then let out a drained smile, noticing the wet spot on her jeans that was not caused by him, “fuck me, Wendy, without even touching you?” Vince said proudly, his voice hoarse and his head swimming with the remaining queasiness, but there was a burning deep in his belly. Down in his groin, so pleased with himself.

Wendy’s cheeks turned red and she looked away, but Vince darted out a little uncoordinated hand and grabbed her by the back of her neck, pulling her in. He smashed their lips together and his girlfriend let out a small noise, startled, before she wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed him back.

Her tongue pressed against his, teeth on his bottom lip, nose pressing to his cheek, “you’re so fucking hot,” Wendy whispered in his ear, “so fucking hot.”

Vince pulled back, pleased with himself, then wrinkled his nose “and I need a shower.”

Wendy chuckled at that, giving him a peck, the fire in her eyes clearing out, “can I join?”

“Can you join? Girl, you’re gonna be doing all the washing, this is your mess,” Vince scoffed, smoothing a hand up her back, curling his fingers on her wavy hair and basking on the sex dazed eyes she was giving him. Wendy opened a bright smile. 

“Damn right it is, you’re my mess.”

[scribbling-punk]

“Where do babies come from?”

Andrea freezes with her coffee mug halfway to her lips, convinced that her heart is about to stop as she meets the curious green gaze of their daughter.

Another set of pretty emerald eyes suddenly seem to find a whole lot of interest in the ceiling, Lena’s lips firmly pursed to stop the inevitable laugh from bursting outwards.

It’s Andrea, though, that Iris is searching for answers from.

Not the mother who is most likely armed with an accurate, scientific description. The one who wouldn’t at all be embarrassed about telling their child the truth. No, Iris is asking the one who is internally crying and wearing a blush so bright that the inside of their kitchen could end up looking like a brothel at any moment.

“Mama?” Iris’ brows wrinkle with concern, “did you hear me?”

Andrea sighs and places her coffee back on the table, sending Lena a desperate glance that is wilfully ignored. Her wife is far too amused—and perhaps intrigued to hear her answer—to bother helping her out with this one. Asshole.

“Well,” Andrea awkwardly clears her throat, “when two people love each other very much—”

“Oh my god.”

Andrea glares across the table at Lena as her soft laugh cuts her off.

“You can do better than that,” Lena grins.

Lena’s grimace when Andrea kicks her beneath the table offers her a moment of satisfaction, but it is soon replaced with dread when she realizes Iris is still waiting for her answer.

She’s seven for crying out loud, shouldn’t she have more time before these kinda questions start?

“Do you not know?” Iris frowns. “Did Mom not tell you?”

Andrea spots her out and grabs it with both hands.

“Sorry, baby, your Mom didn’t explain it,” Andrea offers a wry smile. “She brought you home as a surprise birthday gift and you’re not supposed to question a gift.” Andrea winks at their daughter, “best present I ever got, though.” She grabs her coffee again and takes a sip, “what makes you ask?”

Iris hesitates for a moment, thoughtfully gazing between her parents.

“Was I expensive?”

Andrea stares at her, vaguely aware of Lena choking on her own coffee at the question.

“Because I think that’s what I’d like for my birthday, too,” Iris nods, determined. “Or maybe for Christmas,” she shrugs.

“You… what?”

It’s Lena who speaks, her voice weak and her grin long wiped from her face.

“I’d like a baby brother,” Iris tells them, “or a sister. I don’t really care which.” Andrea and Lena watch in awkward silence as Iris stands and takes her empty bowl to the sink, unable to meet each other’s gaze as the reality of what their daughter is asking for sinks in.

Iris turns back to face them, “we have enough money to buy another baby, right?”

Ko-Fi

[maknaesdancersrappers]

devoted 2.

part 13

Overall warning/s: kinkier smut (eg. voyeurism, exhibitionism, etc.) character death, dark themes

Chapter warning/s: dementia

Just how devoted is Jaehyun to you?

prev: part 12

wc: 6.1k

“I’m flying back.”

“Absolutely not.” You grimaced. “It’s just a fever, Jaehyun. I’m not dying.”

He’s been in China for almost a week now and just yesterday, you felt sick like you’ve never been before. You initially didn’t want to tell him about it but it was hard to hide it from him if he asked for a call every night.

He frowned through the video call at you, crossing his arms over his chest like a child that’s been denied his treat. You were tucked into the corner of the backseat with a cooling patch stuck on your forehead and a heating pad on your stomach, pathetically putting on a brave face despite the cramps absolutely demolishing your lower abdomen.

It must have been a sight for your bodyguards through the rearview mirror to see you like this. Ever since you came down with a fever last night, Jaehyun had suggested that you check into the hospital but you insisted on staying with your parents. You’ll feel a lot safer there and what could possibly beat the tender, loving care of your mother, right?

“I don’t understand how you’re sick all of a sudden. Did you eat something? Food poisoning, maybe? Does your stomach still hurt?”

“It’s probably PMS, babe. It’s not my stomach hurting, my abdomen is cramping up.”

“You’ve never gotten fevers before your period in the past.”

You sighed, “Yeah, it sucks to be a woman, no? I’ll be fine, Jae. It’s actually right on time if it is.”

He still looked hesitant, his brows slowly merging together on his forehead. “Okay… If you say so, but I’m going to have a doctor come by as soon as possible.”

You reached your parent’s home and you sighed, “Alright. I’m here and you have a meeting.”

“I hope you feel better soon, baby. I miss you. Tell your parents I said hi.”

“I miss you, too, and I will.” You giggled. “Good luck, baby. I love you.”

“Thanks, I love you more.”

He took another hesitant, longing look at you before finally ending the call.

You settle back down and let your face contort into pain as another wave of cramps tortured your lower half while Jooheon gets out of the front seat. You’ve never had PMS this bad before. Usually it only cramped during your period and you never got a fever, too. You had a classmate back in high school that always got a fever before her period.

Seeing that Jooheon had circled around to your door, you sat up and let him open the door for you.

“[Y/N], dear!” Your mom came bursting out of the house, hurriedly making her way to you, and engulfing you into a hug while you gathered the heat pad and purse into your arms. “What happened? It’s been years since you had a fever!”

“It’s probably just my period coming.”

Jooheon had brought over your overnight bag inside the house for you and bowed as he passed by you, “We’ll be a call away, Ms. [L/N].”

“Please,” You shook your head, “you and Hyunwoo can go home for today. I’ll call when I’m better and can go back home.”

He looked unsure - you knew Jaehyun had different orders for them, but he relented and bowed again to both you and your mom as a bid farewell.

“I cleaned your room the second you said you wanted to stay over. Come, come. Go lie down and I’ll make you some hot soup.” Your mom assisted you up the stairs and into your childhood room. “I’ll have your dad bring your bag up when he’s finished taking a bath.”

You whistled as you looked around, “Did you preserve the room or something, mom? Nothing’s changed. I thought you would have wanted this extra room for hobbies or knick knacks.”

It dawned on you that you never brought Jaehyun up here, even when you brought him home for the first time so he could meet your parents. It makes you wonder how his childhood room looked; it was probably way bigger than this. More sleek and modern — his mom gave off that vibe and she definitely had a hand at styling his room.

Your mom clicked her tongue, “Don’t be ridiculous. Both your father and I always hope you’d want to come back and sleep over some time.”

“Aw, mom.” You cried, “You can always ask me to come over if you wanted. Jaehyun wouldn’t mind.”

“Gosh, you sound like he’s not invited! Stop stalling me, get yourself to bed and I’ll go cook now.”

You laughed at her, you could really tell she missed fussing over you so much. When you went home for long weekends or school breaks during college, she was always all over you — acting as if you were VVIP or something along those lines.

“I’m just gonna put a pad on just in case I start bleeding.” You reasoned, calling out as she scurried out of our room.

You fished out one of the pads you stuffed into your purse and tossed your bag onto your bed, along with the heat pad. The pain is still a bitch but this was something only you could do. The bathroom was across your room and the tiles were still a little wet when you entered. After carefully stepping on the mats, you pulled your leggings with your underwear down and sat on the toilet.

“Oh, there it is.” You grumbled, the faintest splotch of red on your panties. You would’ve preferred to change out of it already, but your bag was still downstairs and you really couldn’t be bothered by it. You were already starting to feel chilly again. Without a second thought, you slapped the pad securely onto your underwear and did your business.

You weren’t used to staying put anymore. Despite the immense comfort and nostalgia of being in your old bed again where you could remember a handful of times where you refused to move because you would rather sleep, your body wasn’t programmed that way anymore. You had woken up a little past midnight to a horrible cramp and you just couldn’t go back to sleep anymore after snoozing the entire day once your dad had delivered your dinner to your bed. You wanted to work so badly, you were thankful to have stashed your laptop into your bag to at least check your emails.

Once you had your email on, you noticed Jaehyun was also online.

“Jae?” You chatted.

Without missing a beat, there was an incoming video call from him.

“Hi.” You both greeted each other once the connection was stable.

“Your dad said you were sound asleep.”

You cocked your head to the side, “You were messaging my dad?”

“I wouldn’t want to ring your phone if you were resting. Besides, I’m trying to build a relationship with my future-in-laws, is that so wrong?”

“Well, if you put it that way…” You trailed off with a giddy smile. “How are you?”

Jaehyun sighed, “We can’t get the heads of the branches in the same conference room, let alone in the same building. Sicheng is very close to calling his dad for help but it’s not gonna look good for him. We’re gonna try again in a few days. Let them cool down some more. How about you? Your mom said your temperature was getting lower when she last checked.”

You didn’t have any more cooling patches other than the one you had on when you came over so you had to cool yourself off the old fashion way with a damp cloth. You brought the back of your hand to your forehead and nodded, “It’s still a little hot.”

“Hold on, why are you even awake and on your laptop?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I thought I could get a little work in and read some emails.”

“You still shouldn’t stay up for too long. I scheduled one of the family doctor’s for you. Dr. Bae. She’s gonna clear her schedule for you so you can have her come over at your convenience.”

Your phone chimed after Jaehyun sent the doctor’s contact information.

“Alright. Thank you.”

Jaehyun moved his face away from the screen, but you can see his jaws move as he let out a big yawn.

“You must be tired from today, Jaehyun. You should get some rest, too.”

“But I wanna stay on call with you.” He pouted, lower lip jutted out.

You giggled, “We can stay on call until we both fall asleep, yeah?”

You left the camera on, leaving him to do his own thing while you skimmed through your unread emails. You took your time responding to the important ones, making sure your grammar and tone was professional. After replying to a handful of emails, you checked on Jaehyun.

You snorted, “You’re such a creep.”

While you were working, he must have taken a quick shower because his hair was messy and damp and he switched out from a dress shirt to a plain tee. He seemed to be seated at a table with his body leaned forward, elbow propped up and supporting his head’s weight. 

“Am I not allowed to watch and feel proud of my wife working so diligently?”

Wife. You couldn’t hide your smile. Usually, you’d correct him — not yet, you’ll quip, but you didn’t feel like it tonight.

“I realized I never let you up into my room before.”

You watched him pout, a little confused, and then he nodded in agreement.

“I guess you’re right. But to be fair,” He shrugged, “Whenever you brought me over, I was on my best behavior. I did not want your parents — especially your dad — to think I couldn’t keep my hands off you so maybe I subconsciously avoided it if the opportunity arose.”

“But you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

“I am aware.”

You laughed at him, rolling your eyes.

“But like I said,” Jaehyun’s features softened, “I wanted to show your parents that I’m worthy of being with you. That they can be assured that their daughter is safe with me.”

“You don’t have to worry about that now.”

He shook his head, “No. Not until they walk you down the aisle and your father personally hands you over to me. Only until then will I believe they trust me to take care of you.”

Your heart swelled at his admonition, tears springing to your eyes.

“Baby,” The corner of his lip curved into a half smile along with his brows that expressed concern.

“You can’t expect me to not be emotional over that, Jaehyun.” You sniffed, wiping at your eyes before the tears could even spill. “I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you.”

“You probably put a hex on me when we first met to make me fall for you.” He joked.

“Hey!” You reprimanded, trying to sound mad but you couldn’t help but chortle at him. “Maybe you were the one who hexed me.”

“If I believed in it, I would have if it meant having you to myself.”

The mood turned a little somber after he said that. 

“You don’t need to.” You murmured just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know.”

The moment was interrupted by something beeping in Jaehyun’s background and he looked over to the source of the sound. He disappeared from your view and after a while you hear the sound of water being poured.

“Are you having coffee at this hour?”

“No.” His voice was a little distant from the mic, “Ramen. I’m a little hungry.”

He emerged back into your view with a cup of ramen and a pair of chopsticks keeping the lid down.

“Ooh, ramen does sound good right now.” You longingly looked at the cup noodles on your laptop’s screen. “I just don’t know if my mom would have any in her pantry.”

“I can have someone bring you some.”

“No, it’s fine. It might keep me up longer.” And just on cue, you let out a yawn.

“Wanna go to sleep already?”

You huffed, “No. It’s my turn to watch you.”

You placed your laptop by your pillow, pulled your blanket over your body, and shimmied down the bed until you were comfortable. You faced your laptop to see Jaehyun’s amused expression at what he had just witnessed. “What?”

“You’re so cute. I wish I was there right now.”

“I wish you were here, too.” You mumbled, your eyelids feeling heavy already. “I hope you can come home soon.”

“I hope so, too.” You watch him stir his noodles with his chopsticks, taking a big bite after blowing on it. As he slurped his food, you commented, “You eat so well, babe.”

“Hm?”

“I said you eat so well. I think I remember my mom commenting about it too when I first brought you over here.”

Jaehyun wiped the corner of his mouth while chewing, “She’s an amazing cook.”

“Please don’t talk with your mouthful. You’re a full grown adult, Jae.”

He rolled his eyes at you, making an exaggerated movement to show you he swallowed. “There, happy?”

“I hope our kids eat as well as you. They’ll be chubby toddlers like you were.”

Jaehyun pursed his lips, “I wasn’t that chubby when I was a toddler…”

“Your cheeks looked so squishy, though. No one wants skinny babies. Chubby babies mean they’re healthy.”

“You are aware that means it’ll be painful for you if you’re going through natural birth.”

You drawled, “Yeah, but if they’re healthy, then it would be worth it, no?”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he chuckled, watching you fall asleep in front of him. He doesn’t say anything more but you just know he’s still laughing at you. You wanted to open your eyes to check but you didn’t have the strength to do it and you couldn’t even open your mouth to talk. 

“Sweet dreams, baby.”

You were able to make a soft noise to let him know you acknowledged him.

“I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

Dr. Bae was one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever laid your eyes upon - and she has a face mask over her mouth. Your own mother was flustered when she let her into the house and led her up to your room. Through the small talk you shared to break the ice, you found out that she was the Irene Johnny had mentioned before that he was supposed to get arranged to marry. She spoke so gracefully, yet confident and it almost made you insecure to be in her presence.

She goes through the usual tests; checking your vitals, heart rate, and blood pressure — she was about to forego checking your weight but your mom had brought over a weighing scale from their bathroom.

“Everything seems normal. Any other anomalies can be attributed to your period — and it just started today, correct?”

“No, yesterday. But the heavy flow started today.”

“Do you usually have a heavy flow for your period?”

You shook your head, “Oh, I have an implant, an IUD. My periods’ flow is irregular, if you can put it that way.”

Irene pensively looked at you with pursed lips, “By any chance, do you feel it?”

“The IUD? Right now?” You clarified, awkwardly shifting in your seat. “Not at all.”

“A displaced IUD could cause the user to experience heavy bleeding, cramping or soreness in your lower abdomen. I highly suggest you visit your gynecologist as soon as you can, Ms. [L/N]. Just to be sure.”

“Wait, how bad is a displaced IUD?”

“It’s not life-threatening.” She reassured you, “However, if it’s not in the proper location - your uterus - then it won’t be able to do it’s purpose as contraception.”

You mentally counted the days since the symptoms showed up and the last time you and Jaehyun had sex. Your gynecologist told you that sperm could live in the vagina up to 5 days. It should have been more than a week if you were counting right.

“You look a little frightened, Ms. [L/N].” Irene snapped you out of your thoughts and you forced out a laugh.

“Oh, sorry. I was just trying to count the days in my head since I last had intercourse from when the symptoms started… what are… what are the chances I could get pregnant?”

“It’s not in my field of expertise,” She sheepishly admitted, “But if you’re trying to avoid getting pregnant, you can take some birth control orally just to be safe. Again, you should really visit your gynecologist as soon as possible.”

After prescribing you with some pills for your cramps and fever (if it ever rises again), Dr. Irene left your parent’s home. Your dad offered to go and buy the medicine for you while he ran errands while your mom had to run her own errands — both hesitant to leave you until you convinced them you were fine. 

You had messaged Dr. Ahn immediately, explaining the situation already. While waiting for a response, you sent a similar message to Jaehyun to update him.

What if you were pregnant? It shouldn’t be so bad. Both you and Jaehyun have already talked about it — you even debated on having the implant removed but kept it in when you were informed you could easily get pregnant afterwards. You snorted, you couldn’t be pregnant at present though. You’re sure it’s been well over a week after having sex with him that the symptoms started. 

You checked your phone for responses from either Jaehyun or Dr. Ahn, but there was nothing.

The doorbell rang and you inwardly groaned, dreading the combination of walking down the stairs with the mild cramps you were experiencing. You fumbled around your bag to look for a spare facemask and put it on as you begrudgingly made your way down.

As you put your hand on the doorknob, there was a split second of fear that coursed through you. You were alone. You were so caught up with the implant issue that you had sent both your parents off without asking Jooheon or Hyunwoo to drive by. You peeked through the peephole and expelled a heavy breath of relief.

You swung the door open, “Kun?”

“[Y/N]? I didn’t know you were here. Did something happen?” Kun’s eyes widened in shock. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“I am. I decided to stay here because Jaehyun’s been overseas and I can’t really take care of myself. Would you like to come in?”

He shook his head, “No, I only meant to drop this off.”

Kun raised the box in his hands and then flinched, “Uhm, my… my family came to visit from China and they brought this for your parents. Tea leaves and herbal medicine.”

“Oh… they’re out, but thanks.” You tried to get it from him but he refused to hand it over.

“Let me. Where can I put it down?”

“The kitchen counter.” You stepped aside to let him in and you almost wanted to laugh that he didn’t even need to be directed to where the kitchen was. As you closed the door, you called out to him, “You didn’t come to the housewarming.”

Kun huffed after placing the box down, “Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m getting a lot of work done now so I could take a vacation to spend with my family.”

“How are they?” You quietly asked, “Is this the first time they’re back here?”

He sighed slowly, “Yeah. They’re well… but…”

Kun shrugged his shoulders, “My mom. She has, uh, she has early onset dementia.”

“What? She’s the same age as my mom.”

“Dementia can happen to anyone in any age group. It’s actually in our genes.”

Your mouth slowly fell open, unsure of how to react or say.

He took notice and waved his hand, “Don’t worry about it. She’s still doing fine — but also, I should really get back to them.”

“Where are you guys staying?”

“Our old house. It was fortunately up for sale when I decided to randomly drive by. I was able to lease it and have it ready for my parents before they came over.”

“That’s amazing.”

He chuckled, “Right?”

You both walked back to the front door and he opened it to let himself out. Before he stepped away, he turned to look at you.

“Would you like to have dinner with my family? It’ll be nice to catch up with you. It could help jog my mom’s memory as a mental stimulant.”

“Yeah, I would love to.” You literally felt like someone kicked your abdomen. “Uhm, when I get better, yeah?”

“Yes, of course.” He nodded, “I should go. Get well soon, [Y/N].”

“Take care.”

You closed the door after he had stepped off the porch. Usually, you would have waited until they got into their cars before closing the door but you couldn’t stand straight anymore. You trudged towards the staircase and sat down, pressing down on your abdomen. Have either Jaehyun or Dr. Ahn responded to you already? You were so preoccupied with Kun and the news of his parents being back in Korea that you had forgotten the urgency of your possible situation. You got up at once and turned to walk up to your room but there was a knock on the door.

“Kun?” You called out, “Did you forget something?”

You opened the door without a second thought and was confused to see no one there. You looked around until your eyes fell to the doormat and your body froze. Your blood ran cold at the sight of what looked to be a black flower on top of a small folded card. Your eyes shot up to look around, even bravely stepping outside of the door frame to look for something — someone, that could have left it there, but there was nothing. 

There was no one.

You snatched the flower and card from the ground and slammed the door closed, frantically locking it behind you. Your legs gave out and you fell on your knees to the floor, but the pain that struck your knees couldn’t distract you from inspecting the items in your hands.

It was a rose. And it wasn’t naturally black, but rather it was withered and dead. The dark gradation of the dried petals told you it was a red one. With one hand, you shakily pried the note open.

“Are you sure you know everything about the peccant man you love?”

Peccant? You weren’t even sure what that meant.

“The truth is in the apartment.”

You balled your fist, crumpling the note in your hand. This is a trap. It has to be.

You got up from the floor, rushing upstairs like your body wasn’t hurting to begin with. You grabbed your phone from the bed and checked the notifications for messages. Jaehyun hadn’t messaged but Dr. Ahn has and she told you to come into her clinic the day after next, as she’s currently out of town. After sending a quick thank you to her, you searched up the meaning of ‘peccant.’

“Having committed a fault or sin. Corrupt.”

You reread the note again. 

What had Jaehyun done for this person to call him corrupt? Was it so bad that it could possibly drive you away from him?

You pulled up Jaehyun’s contact and found yourself hovering over the green call button. 

Why are you hesitating? You wouldn’t have waited a second longer to tell him about this.

“Do I know everything about him?” You whispered to yourself, fixated on the pixels on your phone that made up his name. 

“[Y/N]! Look at you! You’ve grown up so well.” Kun’s dad greeted you, opening his arms up for a hug that you gladly accepted.

It’s been two days and you were a lot better. You contacted Kun and you’ll be free for a few more days until you need to get yourself back to work. Dr. Ahn was going to see you in the afternoon later so Kun suggested having lunch at their house.

“Hello, Mr. Qian. How have you been?” You pulled away and smiled.

“Still kicking, that’s for sure.” He laughed, however his face grew soft as he turned towards the lady beside him. “Honey, do you remember this young lady?”

Mrs. Qian hummed as she looked up at her husband. He gestured towards you and her head cocked to the side. After a beat, she gasped. “Oh, Kun, is this your girlfriend? What a beautiful woman she is.”

“No, Ma, she’s not. Well… she’s my ex-girlfriend… from high school.”

“High school?” She repeated, tone a little perplexed. But after a few more seconds, she clasped her hands together in a ‘Eureka!’ moment, “[L/N] [Y/N]! My word! You’ve matured into such a lovely lady!”

You bashfully smiled at her, “Hello, Mrs. Qian. It’s been so long.”

“It’s been ages, dear! Gosh, let’s come inside and seat ourselves. My memory may be foggy, but I haven’t forgotten my recipes!”

As you entered, you couldn’t help but look around. The structure was still the same for sure, but a lot of things have changed. The photos and awards Kun had weren’t on the hallway wall anymore. They had a very traditional Asian vibe to their interior before but it seemed like the previous owners were more into Scandinavian design.

You walked into the dining room and smiled to yourself at the sight: although the interior screamed Modern European, the table set for brunch was clearly meant for Chinese cuisine.

“Oh, wow.” You remarked, “I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve had a proper homemade dumpling.”

“Well, you’re in luck.” Mr. Qian quipped, opening one of the few bamboo steamers on the table. “My wife has dumplings, dim sums, and pork buns ready to be gobbled up! Please, take a seat, [Y/N].”

Your eyes wandered over to Kun, clearly feeling a bit awkward and on edge. You do have to admit it’s a little weird to be having brunch with your ex from high school. Maybe he’s worried his mom would bring up the reason you two broke up.

Fortunately, lunch went on smoothly. Conversations jumped from fond memories of the past to catching up with the present to future plans — and it jumped from each one with no particular pattern. Mrs. Qian’s food had always given you comfort when you were able to eat it. Like a Chinese version of your mom’s food. You caught yourself glancing at Kun, who was playfully telling his father to keep quiet about an embarrassing childhood story. You feigned a smile, pretending to be listening but your mind flew back to when you were still dating Kun.

Back then, you were convinced that Kun was the first and only for you. Before the impending break up brought upon finding out you were going to pursue Arts, you really did get along with his parents. They practically treated you like a daughter-in-law already. It’s a bittersweet memory.

“Please tell me you’re in a relationship, [Y/N], unlike Mr. I-don’t-have-time-for-that-in-med-school over here.” Mrs. Qian dismissively waved her hand as if to dismiss her son.

“I, uh,” You cleared your throat, caught a bit off guard by the sudden attention on you, “I am. I’m actually engaged.”

You brought up your hand where your engagement ring fit snugly on your finger.

“Congratulations! Oh, how wonderful! I’m so happy for you, [Y/N].” She clapped, smiling brightly.

“Who’s the lucky fella?”

“He was a classmate in my first year in college.” You felt like a teenager telling her parents about a crush, “His name is Jaehyun. Jung Jaehyun.”

You could have imagined it, but the bright smile Mr. Qian had plastered on his face, dimmed. The air in the dining room seemed to have shifted as well.

“What a lucky guy. Congratulations, dear.” He nodded to himself before proceeding to focus on his food.

“Jung Jaehyun? What a familiar name.” Mrs. Qian leaned forward a bit, pressing her forearms against the table while looking up at the ceiling. 

“Their engagement was on the news. Maybe you had watched it in passing.” Kun quickly said.

Mrs. Qian nodded her head but didn’t seem satisfied with the answer.

You could feel tension between Kun and his father for some reason. Before you could properly react to it, Mr. Qian cleared his throat again.

“Honey, didn’t you make something for dessert? We should serve it now, [Y/N] has somewhere to be afterwards.”

“Oh, yes. I made some egg tarts! You can bring some with you, dear. Let me get it from the kitchen.” She got out of her seat and after a few steps away, she spun around, “Oh! I remember now! Jung Jaehyun’s father is the one who provided our retirement fund!”

“Mom.” Kun sternly scolded at the same time Mr. Qian stood up, saying her name in a similar tone.

“What?”

“Am I remembering it wrong? It was Jung Jaegun. He had a son named Jung Jaehyun.”

You couldn’t properly process what’s happening. “He… provided your retirement fund?”

“[Y/N],” Kun interrupted, but his mom kept on going, clearly not sensing the growing distress from her family.

“Yes! That’s why we moved back to China. He even paid for Kun’s tuition up until college.”

At those words, Kun’s face turned red - but you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment or shame.

“But.. But why?”

Before she could get another word out, Mr. Qian loudly cut her off with something in Mandarin. 

Mrs. Qian looked shocked at her husband, morphing into concern when she turned to you.

You hadn’t noticed but you had a death grip on the skirt of your dress. You could hear your heartbeat pumping in your ear as if you had a stethoscope to your chest. You’re still confused at what’s been said, you had so many questions.

Kun muttered something to his parents in Mandarin and you watched Mr. Qian escorts his wife out without another glance at you.

“Kun,” You whispered, unable to make your voice any louder. “What was that?”

He took in a deep breath, running a hand over his face. You could see that he tried to look at you but his eyes just wouldn’t follow through.

“Kun,” You repeated, “I would very much appreciate you telling me something I don’t know about a man I’m about to spend the rest of my life with.”

“It’s all true — what my mom had said. They were paid to leave their jobs here and move back to China. There were better paying jobs there prepared by Jung Jaegun and he also paid for my schooling.”

“Why?” You repeated the question from earlier. 

“I swear to you, this is the truth.” He calmly responded. “He said it was what his son, Jaehyun, would have wanted… and that’s all we ever knew.”

“I don’t understand. How did your family get mixed up into the business of a family like the Jung’s?”

Kun shook his head, “I told you. We don’t know. My parents were just approached one day and we were only given a day to decide. The offer was too good to be true, but too hard to pass on for my parents.”

“So we broke up because…”

“They signed an NDA… we all did.” He admitted, “So I’m gonna have to ask you to pretend you don’t know because I don’t know the consequences of breaching an NDA with the Jungs.”

You licked your lips, “When you said you were trying to protect me… did you mean you were trying to protect me from Jaehyun?”

“Yes. What are the chances the son of the man who essentially paid us to leave started dating — now engaged to — the girl I had to break up with? It was all too suspicious.”

It really was.

“But I didn’t meet Jaehyun until college.”

“I know. That’s why I think it’s just a horrible coincidence.” Kun pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again. “I don’t want to cause a rift between you two. I’m genuinely happy for both of you, but…”

“But what?”

Kun shrugged his shoulders, “What are the odds of it, you know?”

“Ma’am, we’re here.”

You flinched, surprised to be pulled out of your trance. You looked at Hyunwoo who was driving and then outside to see Jooheon opening the door for you. Behind Jooheon was the familiar entrance of your old apartment building.

“Thank you. You don’t have to wait for me here. I’ll walk over to the clinic and I’ll call when I’m done.” You smoothed out your dress as you stepped outside.

“Okay, ma’am.” Jooheon bowed his head and closed the door, promptly walking to the passenger seat. The car didn’t move so you surmised they were waiting for you to go inside before they took off.

As steadily as you could, hoping you wouldn’t trip from how nervous you are, you walked into the building and greeted the doorman that still remembers you.

You approached the front desk with faux confidence, slowing down as you greeted the receptionist and giving a lame excuse that you wanted to change up the interior of the unit. They let you on your way without another doubt.

In the elevator, you finally let your nerves show. You pulled the note you had received the other day from your bag.

“The truth is in the apartment.”

You were very aware that this could be a trap. You were probably going to get jumped the second you step foot into the room, but you’re going to hope that you’ll get some answers from it either way.

The elevator opened and you cautiously stepped out of  it, approaching the front door of the apartment. With a hand on the knob, you almost thought that it could have been rigged with an explosive that would set up the moment you open the door. 

You lied to Hyunwoo and Jooheon about your visit to the apartment, giving the same excuse you told the receptionist. Jaehyun didn’t even know about the dead rose and note. No one did. But you had slept on it, deciding to keep it a secret. You weren’t going to do anything about it. At first. Not until the revelation from the Qian’s.

You were going to take matters into your own hands.

Fuck it.

You punched in the code with your other hand and opened the door once it unlocked.

You braced yourself for a few seconds, but when nothing happened, you peeked inside. All the furniture was still there, although a bit dusty. You were so caught up in trying to start your own company that you never got around redecorating the place to have it rented out as an AirBNB like you had initially planned. Most of the decor was gone, though. Those were family photos and some art pieces that you were too fond of that you just had to take them into the new house.

Your steps echoed as you slowly walked further in. It felt so empty. Memories of this place started to flood your brain; from when you and Jaehyun first moved in, when you realized you hated the interior and took it upon yourself to slowly redecorate until you were satisfied, when you two were almost caught doing the nasty on the floor by the front door because neither of you could keep it in your pants and Yebin just had to go back up to use the restroom (Jaehyun was very annoyed at her). So many milestones in your relationship happened in this apartment. 

Your heart started to clench in your chest; you’ve been through so much with Jaehyun. Yet somewhere in this very apartment is something that could ruin all that. 

You could walk away. Choke all of it down like what you did like that night in college. Keep it together until Jaehyun comes back home so both of you can talk it through like how both of you learned from therapy. 

Inhaling deeply, you swiveled on your heel to walk back out but you stopped. You blinked at the front door; it was just a few steps away. But your eyes caught something peculiar. Something you were sure shouldn’t be there when you had left the apartment for the last time.

You bit down on your lip.

On the dining table, there were stacks of paper - files and records of something. Some were bare on the table, just haphazardly spread across. Some were peeking out of manila envelopes or colored folders - as if to say, hey, there’s something interesting in here, too.

Your eyes skimmed through the pages, reading bits and pieces of what you can. Your throat started to burn as you picked up the first paper you could.

[L/N], [Y/N]. 

Female. 

16.

a/n: happy birthday to me 🎉 we did it hoes, we're here 💪 its time for shit to go down 😈

next: part 14

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Black Light 6

Warnings: namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Hottie wakes you up with a hot chocolate. The scent alone is enough to rouse you. Your mother always said you were a bloodhound.

You put on some cool DIY tutorials you found, explaining to her how you want to convert your old vanity, but first you need a lot of glitter. She seems interested but she's more concerned about the glitter being everywhere. You don't see what's so wrong with that but she suggests sealing it with resin. Well, it's all just plans until you get the materials.

You hear your mom and dad get up and notice how Hottie quiets down. She glances at the door, almost looking guilty. You smile and hop up from the bed.

"All cool, my parents are pretty chill," you say, "I'll just go tell them you're here."

"Is that okay?" She asks.

"Sure, I'll be right back."

You leave the door slightly ajar and go downstairs. You smell and hear the coffee machine brewing as you enter the kitchen. Your mom rubs her eyes as your dad leans on the island.

"Morning," you chirp, "hope you don't mind I brought a friend back last night."

"Oh, is it Kam?" Your mom asks.

"No, my new friend. I told you about her."

"Hmm, well, it's good you're making other friends," your dad hums, "hopefully better ones."

"She's awesome!"

"Are you sticking around, hon? The new couch is being delivered tonight so we have someone coming to get the old one around noon. Your dad and I have some running around to do."

"Oh, sure, is it okay if my friend hangs out til then?"

"As long as you're not up to your usual shenanigans," your dad girds playfully, "shouldn't be a problem."

"Great," you clap your hands.

Your dad growls and your mom groans as she turns to watch the coffee percolate.

"Where did she get the energy?" You father bemoans, "it certainly wasn't from us."

You giggle and leave them, rushing back upstairs to find Hottie with her purse on her shoulder. You nearly run smack into her as you enter your room.

"Hey, are you leaving?"

"I don't wanna intrude--"

"No, it's cool, really. They don't care. And they're going out for the day. We just needa wait here for the couch guys."

"Couch guys?" She echoes.

"Yeah, pleaseeee, stay," you whine, "it'll be so boring without you."

She sighs and gives a soft smile, "alright, I guess I haven't even finished my coffee."

🍪

You and Hottie sit out on the back deck, getting some sun as you wait. She fiddles with her phone, scowling as she often does at the small screen, as you cut up old magazines and fill a scrap book full of ideas. You like to put your fantasies together even if you know they won't ever be true. Besides, your mother never does anything with her old issues.

"You should try pinterest," she suggests over the top of her phone as she lays on her stomach, legs bent up behind her.

"Oh, I have an account!" You announce proudly, "I can send you the link!"

"Sure," she accepts with a smile, "so, you in school for something..."

"I wanted to do interior design. Mom said no. She doesn't see a career in that. So I'm taking Psych."

"Psychology? Wow, that's interesting."

"I guess. Oh, I was thinking about this study we read. They did an experiment where they had people with scars interview for jobs. And then they went over with the interviewer and interviewee how they thought it went and it talked all about how the people with scars factored in their appearance a lot more than the interviewer... I don't know, it just popped up in my head."

"Ah," she squints, "no reason for that, I'm sure."

Before you can respond, you hear the doorbell through the screen door. You get up, promising to be right back as Hottie rolls over. You head inside and tramp through the house in your flip flops. The doorbell rings again.

"I'm coming," you sing as you get to the door and pull it open, "hel--lo."

You stare dumbfounded at the man on your porch. August has an equally flabbergasted look on his face, his scar turning white as his eyes flare.

"You again," he growls.

You raise your chin defiantly and muster your inner Hottie.

"Um, excuse me, but... you need to go. I'm the bouncer here and--"

His brows furrow and he crosses his arms, making himself seem even bigger. You bat your lashes and cringe. You're not really convincing.

"I'm here for a couch," he glowers at your meanly.

"Really?"

"Mmm," he growls, "this is 387 Willow, isn't it?"

"Yes, but... don't you work at the club--"

"It's extra money. Now do you want your couch gone or do you wanna keep yammering at me?"

"Sorry, I..." You push the door back and retreat inside, "do you need help?"

"Not yours," he turns back and whistles, "Bodecker, get over here."

You glance past him and see another familiar face. It's the other bouncer, the one with the round belly. He comes up the steps and smirks at you.

"Ah, what are the odds?"

"Yes, what are the odds?" August sneers, "how exactly did you find this pick up?"

"Hey, it's money," the other man says, "so, where's the couch?"

[krirebr]

Because I’m an ass another what if ask for your Kris-mas:

In More than This - Steve deserves the world. That’s a fact. And I will not be taking questions. So my what if:

What if readers mom and Steve’s dad didn’t get together until they were adults?

If you don’t already know where I’m going with this…what if Linda was actually onto something about Steve and readers relationship (again they did not grow up together, etc.)

😘

Ok, first off, I'm answering your 2nd ask before your first and just ruining all continuity. 😂 I just love this question so much and couldn't wait to get it posted!

So, I thought very long and hard about this and I knew I wanted to rewrite a scene from More Than This with this alternate alternate universe in mind. I considered doing their Ch 2 conversation together right before the wedding with Linda as a kind of looming specter, but Steve let me know that in these circumstances, he would have taken control long before then. So instead, here is a rewrite of their first scene in Ch 1. This happens right after Joseph makes her sign the contract. I hope you like it!

This is also about 1.2k and really pushes the limits of the definition of a drabble.

Tell Me One Thing

Pairing: Steve Rogers x f!reader

Warnings: Explicit language, angst, hopeful ending

You let yourself into Steve’s apartment, using the key he’d given you on the day he’d moved in. He wasn’t in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. As you entered, you lightly knocked on the doorframe, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm, loving smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. “What happened?” he asked as you stepped into his arms.

“I think we might be really fucked, Steve,” you muttered into his chest. You knew you shouldn’t be taking comfort in his body right now; you should be starting the process of pulling away, putting distance between the two of you, but you just couldn’t. He was all you had and you didn’t know how you’d survive losing him.

He took your face in both hands and made you look at him. “Tell me what happened,” he demanded seriously, as his eyes searched your face. You were freaking him out.

You sighed. “Your dad–” you blinked away tears as Steve’s face darkened. Another sigh. “I’m engaged.”

He dropped his hands and stepped back, looking at you carefully. “You’ve been engaged before,” he said, his voice purposely measured, trying not to show he was upset. “Nothing ever comes of it.” 

“I think this one is real, Steve.”

“What makes you think that?” his voice was harsh, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you. Never at you.

“They set a date.” His eyes widened and he pursed his lips. You took a deep breath and continued, “A month from now.”

“A month from now?” he almost shouted, and your resolve finally crumbled, unable to hold back the tears anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head while you tried to wipe the tears away. “I can’t– I–”

You were in his arms before you realized what had happened. “Hey, hey,” he soothed. “You’re okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“How?” you asked. “How is it going to be ok? I’m getting married, Steve!”

He gently sat you on the couch and then pulled a chair from the corner to sit across from you, close enough that your knees touched. “I’ll talk to my dad. Buy us some time at least.”

You shook your head, remembering the most damning detail. “It won’t work. Everything’s already signed.” You squeezed your eyes shut. “I signed. They made me sign, Steve. I’m so sorry!”

You felt him grab your hand and you reluctantly opened your eyes, afraid of what you’d find on his face. But when you made yourself look at him, all that was there was concern for you. How had you been so lucky as to find this man? Four years ago when your mother had finally been desperate enough to accept another arrangement, you’d only expected more of the same. Just another old man with a say as to what your future would look like. Joseph was exactly who you’d thought he’d be. But Steve, you never could have dreamed up Steve. Kind, attentive, generous, and so beautiful. The two of you quickly became very good friends, and then, after a drunken night out, something else. As you found yourself repeatedly falling into his bed, you knew you should stop. You both did. But you couldn’t. How were you supposed to resist him? He was your one good thing. So you kept it between the two of you, knowing your family would never stand for it. And before you knew it, you’d fallen in love with him. You’d kept that a secret too. 

His voice brought you back to the present, his thumb gently moving over the back of your hand. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“What are we going to do, Steve?” you whispered. “I don’t think I can lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me,” he said, in his most serious voice. “Not ever. No matter what.” Neither of you said anything for the next several moments, Steve seemingly lost in thought, while you just tried to remember how to breathe. Then, finally, he spoke again. “Maybe nothing really has to change. We’ve kept this a secret for so long. We can just keep doing that.”

You took a deep breath, still not ready to confront the worst part of this. “He lives in Boston,” you said quietly. “I’ll be moving to Boston.”

 Steve’s face fell, his hold on your hands getting tighter. “Who.” he said, without any inflection.

“Ransom Drysdale.”

Steve stood up so fast that the chair tumbled over behind him. “No,” he growled. “Absolutely not!”

“Steve,” you sighed, suddenly so tired, looking up at him from the couch. 

He didn’t say anything, just stood there with his hands on his hips, shaking his head, his jaw ticking, staring into the corner. 

You sank into the silence, holding your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe how quickly everything had fallen apart. You should have been more prepared. Of course, this day would come.

Finally, after you didn’t even know how long, Steve spoke again, still staring into the corner. “We could just go.”

Your head shot up. “What?”

He turned his attention back to you. “We could go. Tonight. Why not?”

“A thousand reasons why not!” You were suddenly shouting. What was he thinking? Where had this come from? You couldn’t keep up. “I– What? Where would we even go?!”

He shrugged. “Somewhere. Anywhere. I have a little money put away, don’t you? Anywhere we want.”

You wanted to shake him. “Steve, that’s not–” You shook your head. “That isn’t a plan!”

“You want a plan?” he asked.

You stood up, throwing your hands in the air. “Yes! At minimum!”

“Ok,” he nodded and then grinned at you. “Come back in an hour and I’ll have a plan.”

“Steve,” you breathed, helplessly. 

He stepped back into your space, taking your face in his hands. “I love you. More than anything. Do you love me?”

Your eyes fluttered shut for just a moment then looked back at him. “Yes. You know I do.”

He nodded as a genuine smile lit up his entire face. He was so beautiful. “I think, I’ve always known we might have to do this. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it’s always been there. I’m not losing you. Especially not to Ransom Drysdale,” he growled the name. “Go home, get Lola. Maybe an overnight bag. Then come back here and I’ll have a plan for you.”

You searched his face, for what you didn’t entirely know. He was confident, resolute. Sure. Despite yourself, you nodded. “Ok.”

You started to pull away but his hands on your face wouldn’t let you. You looked at him in question and he shook his head. “I can’t believe you’ve been in my home all this time, and I haven’t kissed you yet. What’s wrong with me?” He leaned in and kissed you, gently at first, but as soon as you started kissing him back, he made it more passionate, filthier. It felt like he poured everything he wanted you to know into it. How much he loved you. How sure he was of a future together. This, of all things, had you believing, too, that maybe it was possible.

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[hayatheauthor]

Do you have any tips/guides for writing abusive parents? How they act, and how a fight where they lash out at their child would be? I’m writing a story in which one of the main characters grows up with abusive parents that mistreat her because she doesn’t fit into society’s definition of ‘normal’ (they basically see her as a monster in the literal meaning of the word), and at one point they have a fight because the parents find out that she’s kept a secret close friendship from them for several years, and they snap at her for going behind their backs (despite the parents not really caring about her and what she’s up to normally) while simultaneously being skeptical of their friendship, what it entails, and what being friends with them child says about the friend.

The problem is that no matter how I try to write the scene, it feels dramatized, if that makes sense. I get the feeling that it becomes unrealistic or stereotypical, especially since I know that in abusive households, a lot of the aggression and communication happens without words. I’ve tried researching a bit, but I struggle to find anything that’s relevant, and my childhood struggles were (luckily) not related to abusive parents, so I don’t have many experiences to use as reference when writing.

Resources And Advice For Writing Abusive Parents

Your story sounds really intriguing! I don't have personal experience with this but I asked around and did some research, and I uncovered a lot of interesting facts. If just been looking for a bit of advice/resources, in which case you can scroll straight to the bottom of the blog where I have some resources and niche advice for you.

But, if you, or any other reader for that matter, needs general help in writing abusive parental figures, here is everything I've uncovered thus far.  

Understand The Abuser 

Most of the blogs I read stated it's important to first understand your abuser. While not excusing the behaviour, understanding the motivations behind the abuser's actions can make your portrayal more nuanced. Abusers often have their own traumas or issues.

Abusive parents can emerge from a variety of traumatic backgrounds, each influencing their behaviour in distinct ways. 

Some may have experienced abuse themselves, perpetuating a cycle they learned as children. Others might grapple with deep-seated insecurities, projecting their fears onto their children in an attempt to regain control. Understanding the diverse motivations behind abusive behaviour allows you to create a more authentic and layered portrayal of your characters.

You mentioned your character's parents mistreat her because she doesn't fit in the social norm, so start with figuring out why they're behaving this way. More often than not parental abusers abuse their children because they think they're 'saving' their child from something. 

This is a common trend in female relationships, i.e the mother will abuse her daughter in an attempt to 'protect' her from what the mother faced. A mother who faced fatphobia might become an almond mom, etc. 

The Motive 

Understanding their motive will help you build a reason for their abuse, and then you can create realistic reactions based on that. 

Let's continue with the almond mom example. Now, the mother might presume by verbally abusing her daughters and telling them to look/eat a certain way she shelters them from ever having to face this from other people. 

If the mother's purpose is to ensure her daughter doesn't gain weight then she would likely have a more subtle abuse style.  

So rather than having the mother snatch away the daughter's food in public and eat it for herself, the mother would take her daughter to a food court and fish out veggie bags from her purse claiming that is their lunch. 

Maybe she constantly checks the daughter's weight and takes away certain food privileges (carbs/sugar) depending on the changes.

First, figure this out, or if you're having a hard time, you could tell me their motive and I'll help you with some realistic reactions/abuse tactics. 

Complex Relationships

One important thing to understand about abusive parents is that at the end of the day. As children, we naturally crave parental approval, an instinct deeply embedded in our emotional fabric. This yearning persists even when we recognize the toxicity of the relationship. The deprivation of affection intensifies our desire for it, leading to a complex interplay of emotions.

In the context of your narrative, consider how your character might unconsciously seek their parents' approval despite the abusive dynamics. The power dynamics are not solely physical; emotional manipulation plays a significant role. An abusive parent's disapproval, expressed through statements like being disappointed or claiming their actions are for the child's benefit, can profoundly affect the abused child.

Perhaps their new friend is teaching them to detach from this mindset, something the parents deeply dislike and thus they want to distance your character from this friend to reinstate their control. 

The Emotional Turmoil That Comes With It 

Incorporating subtle cues to showcase your character's emotional turmoil can add layers to their experience of abuse. Consider a poignant example: your character choosing to wear a hoodie as a shield against the verbal assaults from their mother.  

Perhaps on a day when they wore a hoodie, their mother made a disparaging comment, implying that concealing certain features made them appear more "normal." This traumatic incident could prompt your character to adopt hoodies as a protective barrier against the verbal onslaught, highlighting the lasting impact of emotional abuse.

Abuse vs Negligence 

Exploring the nuances between abuse and negligence is crucial for creating a realistic portrayal of an abusive household. While physical and verbal abuse may be more visibly evident, neglect can be equally damaging, leaving lasting scars on a child's psyche.

Negligence encompasses a range of behaviours where parents fail to fulfil their responsibilities. This could involve emotional neglect, where a child's emotional needs are consistently ignored or dismissed. It might manifest as a lack of guidance, support, or affection, creating an environment where the child feels invisible or unimportant.

Moreover, neglect can extend to physical care, where parents neglect their child's basic needs, such as nutrition, hygiene, or medical attention. This form of neglect can have severe consequences on a child's health and well-being.

In your story, consider how neglectful behaviour intertwines with the abusive elements. Maybe the parents, consumed by their own issues, consistently overlook your character's struggles, reinforcing a sense of isolation and abandonment. 

This interplay between neglect and abuse can deepen the emotional impact on your character and provide a more comprehensive portrayal of their traumatic experiences. It can also help you build a more meaningful tie with this friend. Maybe your character befriended this friend at a time when they felt abandoned and rejected by everyone, including those who were supposed to care for them the most. 

Manipulation 

In the realm of abuse and negligence, manipulation becomes a powerful tool that abusers often wield to maintain control. It's essential to recognize the subtle ways in which manipulation seeps into the dynamics of an abusive relationship.

Manipulation in neglectful situations might involve gaslighting, where the parents distort the child's reality or dismiss their feelings and experiences. This psychological manipulation can make the child doubt their perceptions and question the validity of their emotions, further intensifying the emotional toll.

Abusers may use manipulation as a means to deflect responsibility, shifting the blame onto the child for their own neglectful behaviours. This can create a warped sense of guilt and shame within the child, fostering a belief that they are somehow responsible for the inadequate care they receive.

In your narrative, explore how manipulation intertwines with neglect. Perhaps the parents employ manipulative tactics to downplay the severity of their neglectful actions, creating a distorted narrative that serves their agenda. This manipulation can deepen the emotional trauma experienced by your character, adding layers to their complex relationship with their parents. 

General Resources 

Here are curated resources to aid you in portraying the complexities of abusive dynamics and crafting a scene that resonates truthfully:

Movies:

Precious (2009): A poignant exploration of abuse and resilience.

Sleepers (1996): Delves into the impact of childhood trauma.

Books:

The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls: A memoir unravelling the intricacies of challenging family dynamics.

The Color Purple by Alice Walker: A powerful narrative addressing abuse and empowerment.

Real-Life Stories:

RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network): Offers survivor stories and resources.

Domestic Violence Hotline: Real-life narratives and support.

Online Articles:

Psychology Today: A wealth of articles dissecting the nuances of abusive relationships.

National Domestic Violence Hotline Blog: Real stories and insightful perspectives.

Approach these resources with sensitivity, understanding that the subject matter can be triggering. Always prioritize your mental health and well-being while navigating the intense world of abusive relationships in your writing journey. 

Resources Specific To Your Question

My main advice would be to read personal accounts or case studies of individuals who have experienced abuse. This doesn't have to be real people, it can also be fictional characters. One character who comes to mind is Rapunzel. 

Hear me out—just like your character Rapunzel meets Flynn who is someone her mother does not like. The ending of Tangled is a scene that comes to mind. You mentioned a fear of seeming too dramatic, but you could showcase the parents suddenly showing their 'true colours' in order to reinstate control over their child. 

This can either backfire and the child realises it's now or never, they need to take a stand, or the child is terrified of the repercussions and gives in. Maybe you could write things like 'and suddenly, she was a five-year-old again, with tears and snot racing down her face as she begged her parents to simply look at her.' 

I hope this blog on Resources And Advice For Writing Abusive Parents will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[afro-hispwriter]

The Outsider and The Cheifs Daughter(Falling) pt.3

Neteyam(20) x Metkayina!reader(20)

Summary- Jake and Neytiri know this love story all too well. The outsider falls in love with the Chief's daughter, who's promised to someone else.

Song- Bound by Ponderosa Twins Plus One

Warnings- slight angst, slight possessive Neteyam 

1 2

Wc-2.8k

-

"No, no Neteyam not like that," Tuk says and she snatches the bracelet from her brother's hands. "You have to secure the bead first."

"Okay okay." He chuckled and took the bracelet back. 

"Why did you all of a sudden want to make stuff with me?" Tuk asks and she watches her brother blush. She gasps and starts giggling. "Is it for a girllll?" Neteyam did answer and looked away from her. "IT ISSS!" Tuk started jumping up and down and ran around the mauri. 

"Tuk calm down," Neteyam says and he sets the bracelet down and tries to stop the small girl. Jake walked in and Tuk almost ran into him.

"DADDY DADDY! NETEYAM HAS A GIRLFRIEND!" She yells excitedly and grabs her father's hand. 

"Does he now?" Jake says no amusement in his voice, it was sterner. Neteyam looked at his father and his ears dropped. "Babygirl can you go find your mom, I have to talk to your brother." Neteyam stood to his feet and hung his head low. Tuk frowns and looked between her family members before dropping Jakes's hand and walking away. Once she was out of earshot Jake stomped in front of his son.

"Your mother told me to speak with you, at first I didn't think it was necessary but I thought about it and it is. What were you thinking about flirting with Y/n? She is promised to someone else, she is to be Tshaik." Neteyam backed away and shook his head. 

"She doesn't want to be with him." 

"That doesn't matter, when or if the union ever gets called off, you gotta back off."

"Nothing going to happen," Neteyam says and turns away but grabs his shoulder.

"What if Tonowari and Ronal find out? We are here under Uturu, who knows what they would do to our family." 

"I just kissed her hand to thank her!" Neteyam held his hands up. 

"Even a blind Na'vi could see through the two of you. This is your warning. Back. Off." Jake pushed his son's chest with his finger with every word before walking out. 

Neteyam bit his cheek and rubbed his face. 

"Fuck." He hated how right his father was. He couldn't risk his family being kicked out just because he fell for the Cheifs daughter who's marrying another man. 

He grabbed the bracelet from the floor and shoved it into a wooden case of his stuff. 

-

"Sister, why are you smiling so much?"Aonung asks and he sits beside you. Your smile drops and you look at your brother's face. The black eye forming was taunting, making you roll your eyes. "Still mad about this morning." 

"You did not defend me." 

"I tried." 

"Not enough, we are siblings. We are supposed to defend each other." You and Aonung had always been close as children, being close in age. 

"I know I know, I do not like Reykxu any more than you do, none of us do." 

"Father should not have chosen him." Ao'nung nodded in agreement before pursing his lips.

"Who are they?" 

"Who?"

"I know that smile you had, someone's made you very happy." You sighed before scooting close to your brother and laying your head on his shoulder. 

"I trust that you can keep a secret?" 

"Of course." You sigh before smiling.

"It is Neteyam." 

"Ahh forest boy." You playfully shove him away and he held his hands up in defense. "As much as I do not like him I will tolerate him, because unlike Reykxu. I see that Neteyam makes you happy."

"I'm glad you support me with something for once." You tease.

"Does he return your feelings?"

"I hope so, he tried to kiss me."

"He did?" He seemed a little shocked. "Did you kiss back?" You shook your head and wrapped your arms around your knees. 

"I couldn't, it would be bad on my part." 

"I understand." He rubbed your back. "If the great mother plans it, I may just get a better brother-in-law." You sometimes forget Aonung is not a complete fan of Reykxu. 

"We'll see, now will you help me with dinner?" 

"Do I have to?" He groans.

-

The next morning you practically skipped to the Sully's pod. You greeted them, not noticing the slight glare Neytiri gave you. Tuk giggled as she went up and hugged your torso. 

"Hello Tuk, how are you today?" You passed your hand through her small braids. 

"Good!" 

"Tuk finish your food," Jake says and Tuk frowns before going back to eat.

"Where is Neteyam? We are practicing hunting today." 

"He is down by the beach," Kiri says and you thank her. You walk down the beach, butterflies making you tense your stomach. You spot Neteyam, he wasn't facing you, but his dark blue skin gave him away. He looked like he was speaking to someone. You did a slight skip and in the process, a small teal hand wrapped itself around his bicep. You stopped and your brow bone pinched together. You peered around and your shoulders dropped.

Reytiti smiled and giggled obnoxiously and swiped her hand up and down Neteyams arm.

"Your training has shown off Mighty Warrior." She says and drags her wording out.

"You think?" Neteyam chuckles and lifts his arms to flex the large muscle. 

Your fists clenched and face scrunched in anger, confusion, and jealousy at what you were seeing. You cleared your throat harshly pulling their attention away from each other. 

Neteyam dropped his arms and he took a step back from Reytiti. 

"Finish your conversation, we train immediately." You say sternly before walking away, putting yourself at a good distance from them. Neteyams jaw clenched and his ears twitch before flattening.

He knew what he was doing was wrong. You told him of your dislike for Reytiti in general. It was cruel he knew that, but he didn't know how to let you down since he confessed his feelings just last night. He didn't bother saying goodbye to the girl in front of him, just turned around and walked towards you.

"Ready." He says and he watches you kick some sand then brought your hand up to your face to wipe the tears he couldn't see but knew were there.

"Come." You say and start walking away again. Every time he tried to walk next to you, you would always speed up past him. 

-

"We go deep in the forest so we have no mishap with the spears." You say as you grabbed a spear that rested against a tree. "You see worn down trees, hit them." You point at the trees with all the split wood. He nodded and took the spear from your hands and positioned himself to throw the spear. He brings his arm back and throws it. The spear didn't get far and landed a few feet before the trunk of the tree. 

"Shit." He groaned and you grabbed another spear.

"You are using the knowledge you know of your bow, do not, they are very different. Get into position." You say and watch him, he enters the same position he was in and you shake your head. "Stop." You kicked his feet smaller than shoulder width apart, you then grabbed the unoccupied hand and raised it in the air, and straightens his hand. "Use your hand to guide the spear." 

"Yes ma'am." He says and you huffed and stepped back. He throws it and it went slightly farther but still didn't hit.

"You use your back too much, just breathe. Now go get them." You say sternly and glare at him. Neteyam swallowed and started walking to retrieve the spears. He knew he was getting punished, but he couldn't help but get hard at the authority. 

-

He lost count of how many times you made him throw the spears. It was now eclipse and he's only managed to hit around the tree, not the center. 

"Y/n can we please have a break, or call it a night? My muscles hurt and so do my legs." He says, he wasn't one to complain about training but he couldn't go much longer.

"Fine. One more and we're done." Neteyam nodded and rolled his shoulders back, wincing at the pain. He lost the momentum he had slightly so you stepped in. You stepped close to him, one leg in between his, and helped lift his arms. Your cheek brushed against his clavicle and the heat of his skin burned but it felt nice. He looked down at you and licked his lips.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers and you back up. 

"Did you tell Reytiti that? Shoot." He frowned, almost a pout at your words. 

"No woman's beauty compares to yours." He drops the spear and faces you completely. He takes a step forward and grabs you by the arms. 

"I bet you have said that to all the women from the forest and Reytiti." He backed you up into a tree and practically pinned you to it. 

"I have not said that to any woman." He placed .his hands on your hips and squeezed

"Then what was that this morning hmm?" 

"Mamas, my parents-." A loud horn cut him off and you stepped away from him. "What does that mean?"

"Something is wrong, come we must go." You say and grab his hand to pull him with you. 

-

Just as you reached the outskirts of the village, Aounung passed you and dropped Neteyams hand. 

"Brother, what is happening?" Aonung seemed stressed as he grabbed at his scalp.

"I did something really bad." You grabbed his shoulders.

"Tell me." You say, urgency clear in your voice. Aoung glanced at Neteyam and took in a deep breath.

"It's about Lo'ak, fuck it's all my fault." Neteyam launched at your brother and pinned him to a tree.

"What about my brother?" 

-

"You are stupid brother but I did not think you'd ever do this. If Lo'ak is dead it is murder." You say freaking out at your brother whose braid was in a tight hold by Neteyam. 

"I know I know."

"Well, you did not if you did it." 

You made it back to the village. Na'vi were running everywhere, calling out for each other and saying the situation. 

"We must find our fathers." 

It didn't take long for you to find them. They pointed down at a wooden table talking with a few others.

"Dad," Neteyam says in English and they all turned around. All of their brow bones pinched together as they saw Neteyam have a tight hold on Ao'nung, and you with your arms crossed behind him.

"Y/n?" Tonowari looks to you for answers. 

"It is about Lo'ak." 

"What about him?" Jake asks and Neteyam shoved Ao'nung forward roughly.

"Tell them what you told us." Ao'nung grabbed Neteyams wrist and shoved it away. He started telling his story and in the process, your father scolded him. And just as he finished, your people sounded the horn and said the Sully boy has returned.

Jake and Neteyam didn't waste any time before taking off to find him. Tonowari stepped forward and grabbed Ao'nungs shoulder tightly.

"I did not raise you to do this, just because your ego is bruised does not mean you can attempt murder." 

"Father I did not attempt-."

"Quiet. Lo'ak does not know the true dangers of beyond the reef, I was already skeptical of letting you and your friends go out and hunt." Ao'nung head hung in shame as your father walked away. 

"Are you going to yell at me too?" He asks and you shake your head.

"You already got enough." You say and walk away. You approached the growing crowd and eased through it. Neteyam was crouching down on the stone ledge. You walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He tensed up at the cold touch and looked up. 

"Hey." He says and you gave him a small smile and his tail gently wrapped around your calf making you chuckle. 

"Is Lo'ak alright?" 

"From what I can see, yes."

"Good." 

Neytiri rushed past you and hopped down to check on her son. Your father grabbed Ao'nung by his neck and pushed him down to a knee.

"My son knew better than to take and leave your son out beyond the reef," Tonowari says and Tsireya then rushes through the crowd.

"Lo'ak!" She pushed herself into his body and hugged him tightly. You sucked in a breath as you watched them hug so freely, expressing the feelings they have. It made you wonder what your relationship with Neteyam is. If there even is a relationship there, because you were still a little pissed off at him and you still had... Reyxu to deal with.

Neteyam stood, tail unraveling from your leg. He stood to his full height as the people started dispersing. He grabbed your wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze before letting it go and hopping down to his family. 

Unbeknownst to either of you, your mother watched the whole interaction from afar. A scowl planted on her face.

You watched Jake scold Lo’ak, your sister standing close. You hop down and go to wrap an arm around her. 

“Lo’ak is okay.” You say, trying to reassure her. She nodded and took in a shaky breath. You felt a harsh tap on your shoulder and you turned around with brow bones pinched. 

“Where have you been?” Reyxu asks with his arms crossed. You roll your eyes and shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter where I was?” 

“Yes, it does.” He takes a step forward but you hold your ground. “Your parents question me where you are  and I can’t give them a solid answer.” You roll your eyes.

“I have to teach the Sullys.” He scoffed and shook his head.

“Teach the Sullys? No you mean teach Neteyam.”

“So what if I am?” He shakes his head and grabs your arm.

“I see the way he looks at you, the way you look at each other. Imagine the disgrace you’d bring upon this clan when they find out.” Your ears flatten and you shake your head. But you knew he was right.

“There is nothing to find out.” Suddenly Reyxu grabbed your arms and held them tightly. Tsireya gasped and grabbed your shoulder. 

“Stop hanging out with that freak, and your parents won’t find out.” You shove him away and hissed. 

“Don’t act as if you care, now leave me alone.” He squinted his eyes and looked behind you. 

Neteyam stood there. Nostrils flared. The tail sticking straight up. Hands in tight fists. And a wild look in his eyes. Jake’s hand rested on his son’s shoulder, shaking him, trying to get his attention. 

“Neteyam, stop this. She isn’t yours.” He seethes in English but Neteyam wouldn’t back down. 

You turned to see what Reykxu was looking at and your heart fluttered. 

“Go home.” You tell Reyxu and turn away from him. Tsireya’s gentle hands inspected your arm for any bruises. “I'm okay sister.” You brushed her off and gave her a reassuring smile. She didn’t buy it but stepped back. You turned your attention to Neteyam who was burning holes into your head. You walk over to him with a pout and gently grab his fist. “You cannot act this way.” He looked down at you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes I am, I can handle him.” 

“I know I just-.” He paused and sighed, in the process releasing part of his stress. “I don’t trust him.”

“You act as if we are together.” You placed a hand on his arm and peer behind him to see Jake and Neytiri glaring. It honestly scared you. 

“You’re mine, baby girl, just nobody knows yet.” He says, very lowly, even you almost didn’t catch what he said.

“I like these names you’ve called me, even though I don't know what they mean.” You giggled and Neteyam let out a light chuckle. 

“I’ll tell you what they mean. I’ll also tell you why I did what I did this morning.” You frowned at that but nodded.

“No training tomorrow, you’ve advanced greatly. You will be ready for your rites in no time.” 

“Good.” He looked you up and down and you blushed.

“I’ll see you later Neteyam.” 

“Bye.” Neteyam watched you leave, making sure nobody bothered you. He also watched your hips and tail sway side to side but that's beside the point. 

Jale stepped forward and looked at him. 

“Are you going to listen now?” He asks and Neytiri joins him on the other side. 

“You risk our family’s safety”

“Nothing will happen. And I’m not going to stop, and the two of you know that.” He took a step back from them and walked away. Jake and Neytiri looked at each other, clear worry on their faces. 

-

A/n- I HATE THIS ENDING, it's a piece of shit im sorry the next part will be better. This was also supposed to be slow burn but i said fuck it and got to the point.