#The rest of the book is a whole barrel of ups and downs

[fun-twisted-tales]

Re-read an Oz book and I have to vent

The book is an anthology and the book has a short story about “what if Nick’s cursed axe was alive and we saw the story from their perspective?” Which sounds cool and interesting but has it’s issues

The axe, who eventually calls himself Chopper after Nick’s last name, corrupts Nick bit by bit which sounds fun but then we cut to when he’s all tin and he’s just completely under Chopper’s control?? Like what?? No?? Fuck you?? Actually?? Like where did this come from? Chopper acts like he’s puppeteering Nick so does Nick realize he’s being controlled? Does Nick know his axe is alive? Does he even care? We get a vague line suggesting that maybe but it’s not confirmed

Chopper suddenly gets super philosophical out of nowhere and even gets the idea to put the flesh parts of Nick back together for some reason? And Flesh Nick dies anyway? Like what?? No?? Fuck you?? Actually?? Like where did this come from? Why do you care? You just suppose to kill one guy! Don’t go all Frankenstein on me!

The end of the story reveals that the axe wants to get more slaves like Nick. Like Dorothy and her friends. And they know the wizard is a fake when Nick doesn’t. And then they want to take over the emerald city. Like what?? No?? Fuck you?? Actually?? Like where did this come from? Nothing wrong with a little ambition but at least start small! What did Chopper even do in the original story? Chop 40 wolves and then never get used again? Ooooo, I’m quivering.

Yeah that story could have been good but got real unnecessarily bad near the middle

@woggle-bugger-me

[egophiliac]

do skully have pokemon?

Pumpkaboo is the obvious one, but y'know, sometimes the obvious one is the right one! (we'll say SUPER SIZE Pumpkaboo, just for fun. big pumpkin for big skeleton boy.) and another person actually also suggested Greavard, which I somehow hadn't considered, but feels so perfect that I feel like I should have. dangit.

(they can also have little Nightmare Suit costumes :D)

[kitteninabunker]

cw: gunplay, dubcon (??), semi-public sex, gagging, mentions of death but nobody dies so rest assured, spit, pretty rushed, lil drabble be i had to write about my man being icky b4 i forgot >.<

"are you gonna be obedient? or should i splatter these pretty little guts all over this wall?"

you don't know how you got here, and by here, i mean in an alleyway, with your brand new white skirt pooled around your ankles and nearly torn to shreds, your freshly manicured nails digging into the muscular flesh of a strange man who's stuffing your slick cunt with the shaft of his gun, his index finger is dangerously close to the trigger as his wet tongue peaks out from between his scarred lips to swipe the shell of your ear.

isn't it just your luck that you ran out of instant ramen tonight, meaning you had to walk outside to the closest convenience store all alone? hey, it isn't your fault that you're a broke college student who's just trying to make ends meet. the news warned civilians of a man lurking on the streets, described as tall, black hair, and incredibly dangerous, but they didn't mention hot. it just so happens that the same man, serialkiller!toji, has you gagged with your own panties, your back arched, stifling your cries and whimpers so not even the oblivious pedestrians passing by the whole scene know just how much danger you're in.

you slowly nod your head in compliance, careful and nervous not to make the wrong move just in case this creep decides he wants to end your life with a bullet through your uterus. "good," toji growls, slowly sliding his gun out of your tight little pussy, leaving it clenching around nothing as he brings the firearm up to his mouth to lick your sweet juices off of it. "j-just take my money, anything!!!!" you're desperately trying to plead with him, your voice muffled by your panties as tears stream out of your eyes, leaving the makeup on your face streaky. oh, who were you kidding? he clearly didn't care about robbing some girl for her money, your purse had dropped onto the ground with all of your belongings spilling out when toji grabbed you, your tiny pink pocket book sits there and you want to kick it toward him. there had to be a possibility that money would divert him from whatever he has planned for you, right?

let's say he did wanted to rob you, why would he bother to strip you naked, making you arch your back as the bright red store lights shine down on you beneath the dark nighttime sky, highlighting the curve of your hips and ass, making your slick folds glisten? he's trying to humiliate you, proving he can break any bitch into being his slut.

"i don't need your money, babygirl."

dammit.

"you're gonna give me this tight, virgin pussy." toji declares, his voice low as goosebumps riddle your skin. "college girls study better whenever they're bred by big, scary men like me, hm?"

well, it's not like you've ever had anyone's dick inside of you. his hypothesis could be correct, but you had bigger fish to fry now that the cool barrel of his gun is pressing into your temple, wet with his spit and your own slick. "d—don't kill me..." a part of you wants to shut your eyes and accept your fate, welcoming whatever is waiting for you in the afterlife, wishing he'd pull that trigger to put you out of your current misery. "scared little lamb." toji chuckles, retracting the gun from your head as he slides it into his back pocket. "m' not gonna kill you either."

the confirmation puts you a bit at ease, this totally isn't how you're gonna die!

toji's brings his calloused, large hand to rub your soft belly as he holds your waist. he swiftly unzips his pants and tugs them down, before the fabric can even hit his thighs, his fat, mushroom tip hits his abdomen as his cock flings out. he holds the base of his dick, slapping his hard length on your asscheek. you gulp thickly, its not even inside of you, yet you can still sense how bad this thing is gonna stretch you out, you don't know if you're ready for it.

you sharply suck in a breath of air as he moves his dick to slide it between your drooling pussy lips, the aching tip brushes against your clit which makes you arch your back deeper. "a-aaah!" you gasp, and toji quicky slaps his hand over your mouth. "quiet, little one." he says, lining himself up with your fluttering hole. "don't wanna get caught out here, now do we?" you shake your head in response, dare you say that you don't wanna get caught bent over by a killer? even if help arrived? toji spreads the bead of precum leaking out of his slit around, mixing it with your slick as his tip prods at your entrance.

then, you feel the burn, the stretch of your hymen as toji slowly pushes his hips forward, his thick pink tip slipping inside of you as you curl your fingers into his skin to grip his arms tighter. "do you want this?" toji asks, leaning his head close to your ear as he kisses it. want what, exactly? a crazy guy fucking you in a dingy alleyway? you'd appreciate it if he would at least buy a motel room, but you can't really complain, or think as his fingers move to your clit and make your brain short-circuit. “yeshhh...” you slur out, already so cock drunk and he hasn't even put his cock fully inside.

toji trusts his hips forward, his entire shaft slipping inside of you as your nails dig deeper into his skin. you forget about the possibility of dying right here tonight, the only thing you can focus on is the way his big cock just feels sooo good inside of you, almost as if you were made to take this psycho's dick. you feel your walls clamping down on toji's cock, molding to it's shape which sends a jolt of pleasure through the both of you.

the slick, wet sounds of your creamy pussy taking him in so deep are the only noise coming from the alley, drowned out by the nightlife in the city as you mewl incoherent babbles as toji keeps fucking you, gripping the flesh of your ass tightly as your plush skin fills the gaps of his fingers. "nnngh—too much..." your soft, whimpering voice escapes your parted lips, your knees tingle, slowly giving up as they struggle to keep you upright.

"you like getting your pussy stretched open by sickos like me?" toji asks, slapping your asscheeks and leaving a stinging red hand print on it. you nod your head, biting down harder on your panties as he fucks you from behind. he doesn't let you adjust to the feeling of his thick cock splitting your pussy open, no, he loves the way that warm, tight mouth between your legs grips onto him so tight, he's only fucking you so he can feel good. "you're taking me in so deep," he groans, his thrust growing sloppier. "no wonder you girls get pregnant so easily."

he spreads your fat cunt apart so he can stuff his cock deeper inside of you, his tip kisses your cervix almost instantly as he bullies himself into your tight heat. his fingers keep rubbing slow circles around your sensitive button, making your soft thighs shut around his wrist. he watches the white ring of your slick bubble at the base of his dick as he slams his hips against your ass, the thick push of pubic hair tickles your skin but turns you on nonetheless.

before you know it, you're cumming, squirting all over toji's dick as he stays inside of you. his finger flicks your clit harder as your juices spray out. you literally see starts as toji grips your jaw tightly to keep your quiet as you reach your high. he pulls out, giving his cunt-juice-soaked shaft a slow pump as he nuts on your lower back, spreading your thick sheet of slick around his tip. you feel the warm spurts of cum hitting your skin, toji wipes some of it up as he brings his finger up to your lips, pulling your panties out of your mouth so you can have a taste of his load.

you tighten your lips around his thick finger, suckling his cum off of them as the pad of his thumb pressed into your clit. "that taste good, baby?" he asks, biting his lip as he grabs your arm to turn you around, grabbing your face as he squishes your lips. "open." you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out as toji leans over your head to land a glob of spit on your tongue. you pull your tongue back into your mouth as you swallow his saliva, he takes your hand and slaps a heavy wad of cash into your palm.

"thanks for the free pussy."

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.

Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:

She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.

She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.

Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.

She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.

She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.

She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.

We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)

She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)

She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.

She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.

I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.

anyway shout out to my mom for being neat

Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

[helpimstuckposting]

From Santa

Prompt: Magic | Rating: G | Wordcount: 2,957 | AO3 | @steddiebingo

Steve was seven when he found out that Santa did not exist. He tried, once, the whole ‘Santa’ thing. After hearing the stories from kids at school, he ran over to Melvald’s and bought a tin of cookies with his allowance before skipping excitedly home. Some of the kids mentioned feeding the magic deer, because flying took a lot out of them obviously, and Steve wasn’t quite sure what magic deer ate, but he left out a few carrots in the yard just in case.

He was so excited, setting out the cookies in front of the big tree in the living room and hoping he’d wake up to find a present underneath, just for him. Maybe it would be a cool Hess Truck like Tommy wanted, or maybe it would be an action figure, or comic books, or maybe his parents would come home. The other kids said Santa was magic, that he could do anything, so Steve wasn’t picky.

He went to bed excited and could barely close his eyes to sleep, but the other kids said Santa didn’t come if you were awake so Steve tried his very best. He finally fell asleep with the taste of ginger snaps on his tongue (there was a whole tin, and Santa had hundreds, maybe thousands of cookies every night, so he didn’t think Santa would mind one less).

He woke up to a spotless and quiet house, no puddles from snow on Santa’s boots, no bites out of the cookies, and no present under the tree. No parents either. Steve didn’t have any more cookies that day. He couldn’t bear it.

When his parents arrived a week later, Steve was greeted not by hugs and exclamations of how much his parents missed him, but by his mother loudly and forcefully demanding answers to why her yard was scattered with gross old carrots, drying and cracking and covered in mud from the melted snow. So he told her. He told her about Santa and how he wanted him to come, how he went to bed early like a good boy, and waited all night. How he didn’t show up.

She laughed.

It was cold and icy, like the shards still hanging from the gutters on their roof. She told him he shouldn’t be impatient for his presents — they were in the car like always — and really, Steven, it doesn’t look good for a boy to be so demanding, and the presents certainly weren’t from Santa because the man did not exist.

Santa didn’t exist.

So yes, Steve knew from a young age that the jolly man in the coat and hat was simply a lie — told to children to excite them and give them something to look forward to. He didn’t really get it at first; were the presents not enough? Was the week off from school not exciting? Did they not look forward to Christmas morning without the story of a man sneaking down the chimney? But he’d also fallen for it. He was so excited, he liked the idea of feeding the magic deer, and leaving a treat out for someone delivering gifts out of kindness. He liked the story, that a man with so much power wanted to use it to make children happy. He liked being thought of, liked being remembered by someone he didn’t even know, liked that it was a reward for being nice throughout the year.

But it wasn’t true. And that was fine, Steve tried to convince himself. He still got the presents, and he still got his parents, even if they were a week late. He still got a hug from his nanny, and his mom let him have the rest of the ginger snaps, and he didn’t even have to clean up the carrots from the yard.

His parents left again, and school started again, and it was fine.

It was fine, until Tommy came barreling through the door with his Hess Truck held high and the praise of Santa spewing from his lips, and Steve noticed that not everyone shared in Tommy’s delight. Most of them did, and a lot of them brought their favorite toy to school just like Tommy, but a few kids (maybe three) sat still in their chairs — like they could avoid any questions if they blended into the background. They ducked their heads and they sank in their seats, and Steve wondered if they also found out Santa wasn’t real.

But Tommy singled one kid out at recess. He dragged him out, to the center of the playground, and told everyone that Santa didn’t go to trailer parks, that the kids in Forest Hills didn’t get presents from Santa, because only good kids got presents, and how could they be good if they lived in a junk yard. Those words didn’t sound like Tommy, but he was always repeating things his dad said, copying him and taking his word as gospel.

The kid, scrawny with a shaved head and angry brown eyes, sank into his shoes. Not in retreat, not in a cowering way. He sank into his shoes like he was grounding himself, like he was making sure his footing was firm and steady, and he shoved Tommy right into the ground.

Of course, only then did a teacher interject, and only the boy Steve didn’t know the name of was dragged away to the office. Tommy angrily scrambled to his feet and spat at the ground where the kid had stood, remarking that he was right and the Forrest Hills kids were definitely on the naughty list, Steve, wasn’t he right? Did he see that? What a freak that kids was.

Steve rolled his eyes and didn’t say anything. He knew interrupting Tommy was just more hassle than it was worth, and Tommy was wrong anyway because Santa wasn’t real. He’d figure it out eventually, Steve supposed, but he wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

It was his walk home that gave him an idea. He saw the bus pass by as he trudged along, down the road and off in the direction of Forrest Hills trailer park. He wondered if that kid from recess was there, if he saw Steve out the window as he passed, if he really didn’t get any presents. He thought about all the gifts his parents gave him that were still packaged up in his closet because he had too many and he didn’t really like them all. And he thought about how much he wanted someone to think about him on Christmas, with no other purpose or desire but to make him happy.

So, with an inkling of an idea creeping its way through his head, he ran the rest of the way home and pulled out the phone book from the hallway table, as well as his yearbook from the previous year. There weren’t many numbers from Forrest Hills, but he did find the three kids from his class and a couple from the year above. He picked out which of his unopened presents he thought they’d like the most, and he wrapped them crudely in leftover paper he found in the study. He ripped off a few pages from the note pad by the phone, and wrote out in his best writing:

From Santa, sorry I was late

And then:

P.S. my elf wrote this

Because his best writing was still pretty bad.

It took him a couple days to plan and gather things, but in the dead of night — after his neighbors clicked off their porch lights — he piled all five presents into a little red wagon and tied the wagon to the end of his bike. He took off toward Forrest Hills, a little list of names and addresses crinkled in his pocket. He tip-toed around the dirt paths, freezing in fear every time his little wagon’s wheels squeaked, and placed the presents and the notes from ‘Santa’ on the doorsteps that matched his little list. He checked it twice, just for fun.

He felt lighter on the ride back home, and not just because his wagon was empty.

Steve was seven when he decided to become Santa himself.

It wasn’t obvious, the next day at school, and Steve didn’t do it just to listen to kids whisper about Santa visiting Forrest Hills a week late, but he did notice something. The three kids who had sunk low in their seats the first day back, who avoided talking to the others to brag about their presents, were no longer trying to blend into the background. They sat comfortably in their seats, and whispered among themselves, eyes twinkling a little more than they had a few days ago. Steve was ecstatic. He sat, buzzing silently with excitement as he tried to keep his face blank and neutral. Santa had to be kept secret, after all.

He did it again the next year, adding the newest kids to his list from the years below him, and saved up his allowance to get some cuter presents for the girls; some nail polish and art supplies, some coloring books and beads. This time he wasn’t late, and his handwriting had improved a lot from the year before (though he still blamed the elves for his wonky letters).

He had fun, learning how to wrap the paper around each gift, saving up his money to pick out presents he hoped the other kids would like, wondering what their faces looked like when they opened the door to find a present on their front step.

He was a little worried that the kids would be concerned Santa hadn’t made it inside, being magic and all, but he also noticed that none of the trailers had chimneys so maybe that was okay. He also learned that most of the kids in Forrest Hills did get presents, and he felt a little stupid for assuming they didn’t just from Tommy’s dumb comments, but he also knew they weren’t the fancy presents other kids got like bikes and new games.

He tried making his Santa presents a little more extravagant. After all, why would Santa give Tommy a brand new Lego set, but give Willie across town a pack of baseball cards? Steve just wanted to even the playing field a bit, knock Tommy down a peg or two when he tried humiliating another kid on the playground and that kid said Actually Tommy, I got the new Hess Truck from Santa, too! And Steve remembered wrapping it up, much neater this time, and almost getting caught on the stoop when a dog started barking at him. He muffled a giggle into his hand when Tommy floundered for something to say, coming up empty handed.

As the years passed and the kids in his grade stopped believing in Santa, he scratched their names off his list. He kept adding to it as well, though. He paid attention to the new kids in each grade, noticed if they had a little less than those around them, noticed if they were on the outskirts or if they looked a little nervous as the holidays drew nearer and nearer. He left presents for the Byers one year when he heard that Jon’s mom lost her job after his dad left. He left presents almost all over town, had the phone book highlighted with every address he wrote down in his notebook — a much needed upgrade from the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket. He wrote a list, he checked it twice, and he made sure to slip through the dark like a shadow, avoiding anything that might give him away.

He was always surprised when no adults tried to stop him. Surely, the stoop presents were well known throughout town by the time Steve reached high school, but maybe they didn’t want to know who was behind it. Maybe they wanted to keep the magic alive, too. Either way, Steve played a successful Santa for nearly two decades before anyone found out.

It was Eddie.

It was always Eddie.

Eddie, the boy who knocked Tommy clear to the ground that first winter. Eddie, the boy who made Steve want to help. Eddie, the boy who received the first ever gift from Hawkin’s own Santa, though Steve kind of hoped that was a secret he could keep.

They were putting up the tree in their apartment, the first Christmas they were spending together. Eddie had brought several old ornaments from the trailer, ones that he stole from right under Wayne’s nose because lord knows the man wouldn’t want to part with them if he didn’t have to — a collector, that man was. Steve picked up one that, at first, had been unassuming, a clear bauble filled with glitter. Hanging it on the sad twiggy branch of their Charlie Brown tree, however, he noticed a little piece of paper inside. It was aged and a bit crumpled, but not too shabby for how old it was.

From Santa, sorry I was late, it read in squiggled, messy handwriting, the wonky letters leaning to one side more than the other.

P.S. my elf wrote this

Steve stared at it for entirely too long, catching Eddie’s attention as he hung the last ornament.

“Wayne made that one, if you can believe it,” Eddie said, tapping the plastic bauble with the nail of his pointer finger. “I mean, not the note,” he clarified, “that was Santa.” He whispered the last part conspiratorially, as if letting Steve in on a huge secret. Steve felt like he was going to cry, suddenly, the tears pricking behind his eyes. With a start he realized, selfishly, that he didn’t want Eddie to know. He wanted to keep this mystery alive for just a little longer, like a parent too sad to let their child grow out of the world of magic and wonder, like it was too soon though the secret had been brewing for nearly twenty years.

Eddie wrapped a cautious arm around Steve’s shoulders, unsure of where his sudden teary-eyed expression came from. Instead of facing his questioning look, Steve tucked his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck and listened as the man regaled him with the story of his first ever gift from the Santa Claus.

That year, Wayne had lost his job as a trucker because Eddie had fallen into his lap. He couldn’t leave the kid all alone, had to stay and take care of him, and he was between jobs until the holiday snuck right up on them both. They had a tree, just as shabby and sparse as the one they currently stood in front of, but there was no money to spare for gifts. Wayne had apologized, and Eddie had been very understanding for an eight year old — after all, he had been learning not to rely on adults, anyway.

He’d gotten in trouble when the school year resumed, however, for shoving an insufferable Tommy Hagan to the ground during recess. Of course Tommy hadn’t gotten in trouble, since vigilantism was an under appreciated form of justice, Eddie declared. Steve snorted into Eddie’s neck, just imagining the ranting tirade the skinny boy with a shaved head must have gone on, trying to defend himself to the principal.

Eddie was furious as he got back home, pissed off at Hagan, pissed off at his parents, pissed off at the world. And then — what to his wondering eyes did appear — two days later, Wayne had opened the door to the shittiest wrapped present he’d ever seen. Steve bit his tongue. It was for Eddie, according to the name scribbled onto the wrapping paper, and the little note declared it was a lost gift from Santa.

“Like magic,” Eddie smiled.

Steve had no idea that was his first Christmas at Wayne’s, and he had no clue what that first shove on the playground could lead to. He could still picture Eddie’s scrunched brow as he glared daggers at Tommy, could still remember the way he sank into his shoes and grounded himself for a fight, like he was used to it, like he knew what was coming. He wished he could picture Eddie’s face as he realized Santa hadn’t forgotten about him.

“Anyway,” he said, startling Steve from his thoughts, still tucked away in Eddie’s neck, “Wayne kept that note, and I think he’s got the one from the next year, too. He’d saved enough money for a couple presents that year, but I think he was grateful for a little extra help.”

Steve pictured himself, a tiny little thing, curled up in the living room, all alone on Christmas Eve as he wrapped up presents and wrote out his Santa letters. He remembered feeling less alone for the first Christmas in forever, because he was too busy sticking too much tape onto glittery wrapping paper and worrying about not getting caught to care that his parents weren’t home again.

He thought about the bag full of presents, tucked away in the back of the closet so Eddie wouldn’t find them, and his list of kids he collected from the library’s giving tree. He had planned on sneaking out, planned to slip away from Eddie’s prone form and deliver the gifts alone, like always, but Eddie squeezed his shoulder and kissed the top of his head and he realized that he didn’t have to be alone anymore. Maybe this year there could be two Santas, delivering gifts to the children of Hawkins in the dead of night. Maybe this year he could have some help. Maybe this year, there could be twice as much magic as the year before.

—

Bingo Prompts

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Desiring Defiance | Kim Taehyung | One Shot | Teaser

Summary: Taehyung as a Mafia Lord takes care of his own, but when his priority becomes you, imagine his surprise...and delight when he figures out you want nothing to do with him. Pairing: f!reader x Yandere Mafia Lord Taehyung (Contract Marriage) (Taehyung's pov) Word Count: TBD Warnings: Smut, Explicit Language, Weapons, Drugs, Violence etc. (I haven't finished it so I'll add more warnings when the full fic comes out) A/N: I wanted to get this out to see if there's any interest in this story since I usually write fics for Jungkook but I'll be writing it regardless. Just wanted to have an opportunity to get a taglist going if possible p.s. This is my first Mafia fic and it's barely edited so pls have mercy on me 🥲 Requested by @bluehaven143 💜

"I've scheduled the jet for your birthday and have alerted the local staff to be ready for your arrival" my assistant relays, my men and I having a leisurely meeting and therefore feeling comfortable sharing in front of them since they're usually a part of those plans.

"You should book this new stripper I found while we're there. I've heard that she leaves her patrons thoroughly…satisfied" one of them says, wiping his nose off after inhaling a line of a white powder that we all know leads to no good.

I wave him off, knowing if I let him run his mouth the suggestions will go from crude to vulgar if left unchecked.

"No stripper?" one of the guys chimes in, feeling as though he got a toy he was entitled to taken away from him.

"You guys aren't coming this year" I say after telling my assistant we'll discuss this matter later.

"What do you mean we're not coming?" another chimes in, looking utterly betrayed. "I have other plans in mind this year" I inform, loosening my tie, it suddenly feeling a little too tight.

"Who are you going with if not us?" another asks, the notion completely ridiculous from their self centered viewpoint.

"My wife" I say, pulling out my phone to check her location, seeing that she's still at the office when she was supposed to be home an hour ago making me sigh and stand up, the group raising to their feet as a sign respect.

"You mean the woman you paid to marry you?" one of them mumbles, making a bold statement leaving me chuckling darkly while shaking my head, my pace slow but deliberate as I walk up to him, resting my hand on his shoulder before drawing my gun seconds later and placing the barrel against his temple.

The cold steel on his skin makes him shudder, the implications of what just one single pull of it's trigger could do to his life. His very well being dancing in the palm of my hand, oh so tempting to snuff out but I show some restraint and press the gun a little harder against his temple making him lean over, trying to get away from the no doubt painful pressure.

All the rest of my men are frozen in place, knowing better than to intervene, very well aware that any sign of fear or questioning of my judgement could result in the intent to kill being pointed towards them.

"I suggest you watch your fucking mouth when you talk about my wife" I growl and he nods, apologizing profusely, sinking further and further down onto the floor, practically shaking in fear.

When I cock the gun I can see the way his body tenses up as he forgets to breathe, holding back the wince he no doubt wants to let out.

I stand there for a while, debating whether or not I should make an example out of him in the most extreme way possible, the sound of a pin dropping would resound through the whole room.

I ultimately decide to withdraw my gun, placing it back on my person, fixing my suit jacket and running my fingers through my hair, letting out a sigh.

"Take him out back" I say and turn to walk away, leaving his pleas for mercy to fall of deaf ears.

He should know better.

They all should know better than to question me, my wife or my judgement. Leaving me turning back to address the rest of the group once the guilty party has been taken away, his wails for mercy soon being exchanged for wails of pain, muffled by the door now separating us.

"My business with my wife is none of any of your concern. Plus, it's not like many of you remember the reason we go abroad at the end of the year anyways. So there's no need for you to be included" I sigh and they all turn their eyes down, disappointed but not surprised that this fate was cemented as a result of one man's sin.

"Make sure there aren't any loose ends I need to tie up while I'm gone…or when I get back" I say giving a pointed look to all of them, resulting in a unanimous sound of intent to do as they're told.

"Clean up my office. I don't want to see a single crumb or anything out of place when I get back" I say looking at one man in particular that has been crunching on a bag of chips since I walked in leaving him closing and setting it aside.

I leave with a unison farewell from all as I head to my car that's been pulled around front, waiting for me.

"Where to sir?" my driver Andrew asks once I get in the back seat, the only one I let speak freely in front of me. "My wife's office" I say leaving him humming.

"You don't approve?" I ask, cocking my brow at him through the rear view mirror, but he finds no fear in it.

"She's requested not to be disturbed until she's called for a ride home sir" he relays leaving me sighing, debating on whether or not I should respect her wishes.

She's always so stubborn when it comes to work and does everything she can to keep my claws from sinking into it.

I don't feel like listening tonight though, especially not after what happened.

I want to see her. I need to see her.

"Sir?" he asks, trying to see if I've changed my mind given the new information. "My wife's office" I repeat and sit back, knowing I'm making the wrong choice but I won't let anyone keep me from getting what I want.

Not even her.

~~~~

Please let me know what you think and comment or click the link to join the taglist <3

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @coralmusicblaze @whoa-jo @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater Taglist continued in the comments 💜

[bokutosbiceps]

don't be afraid to catch feels

eustass kid/monkey d luffy/roronoa zoro/trafalgar d water law/usopp/vinsmoke sanji  x gn!reader | fluff | ~2k words

warnings: some suggestive/18+ themes but nothing explicit

a/n: idk i just really wanted to write so THIS was born !!! how some of the one piece boys realize they have feelings for ya !!  might do this for other fandoms too…actually yeah i will LOL probably if i don’t forget

NOTE: i end them after their confession on PURPOSE so you can choose your own adventure 😆 also there’s more dialogue for luffy’s + usopp’s so they’re a bit longer !!

18+ MDNI | under the cut for length

eustass kid is angry. he's angry that he developed a crush on you. it's so stupid, he thinks. so outta character.

everyone on the victoria punk knows it, including you. and much to kid’s dismay, so does killer. killer talks to him about it everyday, trying to coax a confession out of him in the most gentle yet firm way he can. he wants his captain to be happy, and he knows that you can make him happy, because you already do without knowing it.

kid is completely docile in your presence, and protective. he’s more quiet, because he wants to hear what you have to say. he’s around more, because he wants to keep an eye on you. and maybe because he likes being in your presence.

kid tells (threatens) the rest of his crew that, even though they’re like brothers to him, they’ll be ripped to shreds if any of them so much as glance at you the wrong way.

luckily for you and unluckily for him, you’d heard his very public threat to the kid pirates, save for you. 

you ask kid what the hell all that was about and he simply shrugs, rolling his eyes and trying but failing to keep his cool. you scoff and chuckle at his indignance. you continue to press him till he finally gets annoyed and locks eyes with you, his pupils dilated and his lips spread out into a crazy grin.

“jus’ claiming what’s mine.”

monkey d luffy is seeking out the smartest person he knows, and once he sees her, he’s barreling toward her at lightning speed. hands appear, arising from the wood of the sunny’s deck and forming a net right in front of robin, effectively catching luffy and recoiling him flat onto his butt.

“robin! what was that for?” luffy whines, adjusting his straw hat and tilting it back so that he can look at robin.

“i’d prefer to not be crashed into, captain.” robin shuts her book and gives luffy a gentle, almost maternal smile. “now, what has you so excited?”

luffy is thoughtful as he opts to lay back down on the deck, tilting his straw hat over his face to shield his eyes from the sun. he’s not excited, kinda confused, actually. 

he’s good with his feelings, because he knows his feelings. he's familiar with them. but these feelings—the ones he's been feeling for the past couple of weeks or so—are new. he doesn’t know them, but he wants to learn about them. so here he is, ready to learn with the smartest person he knows.

“well…i wouldn’t call it excited, ya know?” luffy stretches his arms overhead before folding them behind his head. robin chuckles quietly, already aware of luffy’s feelings before he'd even realized them himself.

“what would you call it then?” robin asks patiently.

“like…i dunno! it’s different! it’s different with ‘em…” luffy trails off, sinking back into his thoughts.

“different with who?”

“y/n!” luffy chirps, feeling himself smile at the mention of your name. “i’m really happy they’ve joined the crew!”

“happy like…you’re happy that i joined the crew?” 

“nuh uh, like…i always wanna be near ‘em. i like when they laugh, when they’re happy. their smile’s real nice, too.” luffy pauses. “it’s a lot of fun to be alone with ‘em! makes me feel good…”

robin takes her time explaining what these feelings mean, that that bubbly, queasy feeling in his stomach was not, in fact, indigestion. once robin’s words seep into luffy’s thick, rubber skull, he jumps up off the deck and wraps robin in a tight hug, grinning the whole time and whisper yelling i gotta go tell ‘em!

luffy finds you instantly, almost like his body contains a homing device that always leads to you. you notice way too late that you are in the direct path of the tornado that is luffy, and he tackles you, causing you to fall back. luffy is quick to catch you, stretching an arm around your waist and bringing you to his chest, looking at your face with such intensity you can’t keep your face from heating up.

you’re breathless. due to the adrenaline from almost cracking your skull against the wood of the ship, and from the i’ve got feelings for ya! robin says they're love feelings! do you feel the same? that rushed out of luffy’s mouth.

roronoa zoro is confused. honestly, more confused than he’s ever been in his life. then he’s annoyed. why did he have to develop feelings for a crewmate, let alone you? it would just get in the way of everything. he wants to focus on his dream, on luffy’s dream, and sometimes even on sanji’s dream.

he doesn’t consider himself a particularly selfish person, but he wanted to focus on himself first. 

but then he sees you smile. he hears you laugh. he watches you work and hone your craft, a look of ecstatic determination on your face and the tip of your tongue peeking out between your pursed lips as you focus. suddenly, he realizes it’s really not about him anymore. it’s about you.

he starts to avoid you like the plague—he figures that if he can’t see you, you can’t see him. but he’s oh so wrong. 

when you decide you've had enough of this, you stop zoro, your hand gripping his shoulder and pulling as hard as you can. zoro raises an eyebrow at you and turns around, crossing his arms and waiting for you to explain yourself.

“you’ve been avoiding me.” you state, leaving no room for disagreement or excuses.

“says who?” zoro is very good at playing dumb.

“says me. and luffy.” you huff a bit as you remember your encounter with your captain. how his lips had twisted to the side and how his eyes had shot up to the sky when you’d asked what zoro’s problem was.

“luffy doesn’t know—”

“know why you’ve been avoiding me?” you step closer to zoro, your eyes locked on his and staring into his soul, searching for answers. “i’m sure we’d both love to know.”

zoro scoffs and rolls his eyes, taking a step back from you and turning his face to the sea. the cool ocean breeze feels nice against his burning face. he grimaces as he turns back to you, figuring he might as well get this over with.

“ilikeyou.” zoro mumbles, the words rushing out of his mouth and stopping quickly as they had started.

you shake your head and lean closer to zoro, turning your head to the side so his lips are inches away from your cheek. 

“can you repeat that, please, roronoa?”

“i like you.” zoro says the three, short, quipped words. he’s frowning and his arms are crossed and pulled tightly against his chest, in hopes to dampen the hammering of his heart.

trafalgar d water law is no stranger to stuffing his feelings deep inside of his chest and leaving them there to rot. so he’s wondering why in the fresh hell these annoying feelings for you keep resurfacing. they crawl up his esophagus and reflux into his mouth, leaving a bitter taste behind and making him scowl every time he feels them. 

and to you, it seems as though every time the two of you lock cross paths, he narrows his eyes at you and stalks away. he rarely talks to you anymore, although the conversations you'd shared before were usually very short, yet somehow still meaningful.

you decide to confront him about it, byway of bepo, who happened to know exactly why law was seemingly scarce around you. 

“c-captain? our captain?” bepo stutters, bringing his paw up to his mouth and feigning surprise. “wow! i have no clue why he’d do something like that!”

you frown at bepo. it’s painfully obvious he knows everything about the answer to your question. “spill it, bepo.”

bepo starts to make gestures with his hands and little struggle noises with his mouth. he has no clue how to get out of this one. so he does, indeed, spill it. 

a few minutes later, after bepo was done with his rambling and law’s confession, you approach law with a smug smile on your face.

it doesn’t take a genius to be able to tell why you’re smirking like that, and law immediately pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head down.

“that damn bear…”

usopp is sweaty. he’s sweaty, he’s wringing his hands, twirling his hair around his fingers, readjusting his goggles on top of his head. he can’t sit still. he’s been thinking about how on earth to deal with his feelings: does he just shove 'em deep down inside or does he shout 'em from the crow’s nest? he hasn’t had romantic feelings for anyone since he left kaya, and he simply cannot deal. 

“usopp…” nami says softly, touching usopp on the shoulder. he jumps, then flinches at his overreaction to his best friend’s simple and gentle gesture. “can you just tell them, please?”

“n-no! why should i?” usopp frowns at nami and furrows his eyebrows, knowing full well that it’d be best for his health and the crew’s sanity to just come out and tell you.

“if you don’t…” nami grins at him, slowly and mischievously, “i’ll tell them myself.”

usopp immediately springs up from his chosen sulking location and mutters an okay, okay! behind him as he leaves nami. he’s back to sweating, wringing his hands, playing with his hair, and fidgeting with his goggles.

you notice usopp looking particularly dreadful and wait for him to get closer to your position on the deck. you reach out and catch his hand, giving it a light tug so that he’s moving closer to you. he seems so deep in thought that he doesn’t even notice.

“usopp?” you tug on his hand twice, trying to get his attention. usopp meets your gaze and stares at you blankly before shaking his head and becoming aware of the situation. he tries to withdraw his hand from your grip but you’re holding on tightly, and he realizes he’s trapped.

“y/n! fancy seeing you here!” usopp laughs loudly, trying to mask the way that he’s absolutely crumbling and melting.

“what’s on your mind, usopp?”

“you.” usopp covers his mouth with his free hand immediately after the words come out of his mouth. what was he thinking, being so forward? he quickly looks away from you, directing his eyes to the clouds above. “i mean, nami was talking about you earlier. that’s why i’m thinking about you. no other reason!”

a small smile spreads across your lips. “oh, yeah. she told me something super interesting about you earlier today…” you say, drawing out the last few syllables and relishing in the way usopp looks at you in utter horror.

“nami told you that i like you?” he breathes.

“no, but you just did.”

vinsmoke sanji is aware that he actually likes you. that you're not just another pretty face he admires. he’s always known you were gorgeous, the apple of his eye, the object of his affection. you never noticed that it different, though. thinking back on it, you’re glad that you didn’t notice, because you might’ve thought it meant something bad. quite the contrary, in fact.

sanji knows he loves you when he feels calm in your presence. when he’s not acting like a fan boy and when he spends hours talking with you while he cooks or does the dishes or plans the crew's next meal. you’re always around, and yet, he’s never nervous. 

when he really realizes it, though, it’s when he catches a glimpse of nami’s naked silhouette through the crack in the bathroom door and he doesn’t even flinch. not a tingle, not a single palpitation. it’s not you, and his heart knows it, so he’s calm. this is when he knows he has to confess.

“y/n…darling…” sanji says, grasping your hands in his own and looking you in the eyes. “i have to tell you something—something i’ve never told anyone before.”

you look at him, an eyebrow raised in skeptical curiosity. sanji looks worried, and he almost never looks worried. your mind is going a mile a minute, your brain flipping through pages and pages of things he could possibly say to you within the next minute. because of this, you miss the way sanji squeezes your hands, and the way he sucks in a deep breath.

“i’m in love with you.”

taglist: @usoppsstar (i literally can’t remember anyone else rn lolol, i just knew i wanted to surprise ya coco) | @kingofthe-egirls | @pileofmush | @anemptypuddingcup

[demie90s]

🎫 ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴘᴏʀᴛ ✈️ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ🎫

(Something about a spoiled gf really hits)

꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Nika Mühl x READER ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ MASTERLIST

Part 1, ALL PARTS

⭑ pairing: Nika Mühl x reader (rich!fem!reader)

⭑ summary: After another W on the court, Nika’s ready to celebrate—in Croatia. You think it’s just a little family trip for her and her sister… until you find out the whole damn team, coaching staff, and media crew are coming too. Of course, you’re footing the bill. But who’s complaining? Definitely not Nika.

⭑ genre: Rich fluff, chaotic humor, softcore spoiling, travel chaos, team antics

⭑ warnings: Swearing, rich girl antics, mild delusion, jet-setting behavior, Instagram captions that bite

⭑ word count: ~ 0.7k

You didn’t even get to sit down post-game before Nika was tugging your sleeve like a child in Target.

“Let’s go to Croatia.”

You blinked. “…Huh?”

Her eyes were gleaming, cheeks still flushed from the win, messy bun half-untied and jersey clinging to her like she belonged on a billboard. “To see my family,” she said sweetly, “We haven’t been back since Christmas. I miss them.”

You nodded, already reaching for your phone. “You wanna take your sister too?”

Nika tilted her head. “No, babe. I mean everyone.”

You froze mid-text.

“Everyone?”

“Everyone.”

The locker room door creaked open just as KK, Azzi, Ice, and Aubrey barreled in, music playing off someone’s speaker. They were mid-celebration, towels whipping and voices echoing. Nika just looked over and pointed.

“Yeah. Them. Coaches. Media team. Jana. Inês. Whole squad.”

“…You want me to take the entire UConn program to Croatia?”

“Uh-huh.”

You blinked again. Nika smiled wider. You were dangerously in love.

“Okay.”

—

You booked the charter that night.

No commercial. No long lines. No customs chaos. You didn’t even blink when the travel agency confirmed you needed three full rows of first-class pods, a yacht-like Airbnb in Dubrovnik, four sprinter vans, two private chefs, and a backup stylist. This wasn’t a trip. This was a movement.

KK was the first to post.

@kkarnold2: GIRLY POPS IN CROATIA 🇭🇷✨ don’t ask questions just know it’s giving elite program energy

The internet lost its mind.

Comments rolled in like water:

“IS THIS A SCHOOL TRIP OR A FASHION SHOW?”

“Who tf is funding this???”

“Not KK casually posing in front of a villa like she own it 😭😭😭”

“Someone said spoiled rich girlfriend y/n supremacy 😭”

“Y/N got that Sofia Richie aura I fear.”

You didn’t even notice. You were too busy telling the sprinter van driver to detour through the scenic route because Nika liked the ocean view. She was curled up beside you, braided hair resting against your shoulder, already live-streaming while half the team yelled in the back about who got aux next.

Aubrey was threatening violence if someone didn’t play Beyoncé.

Jana was trying to teach Inês a TikTok dance that clearly required more coordination than she had.

Azzi was fake-texting Coach Geno, pretending to ask if she could wear a bikini on the beach and showing everyone his all-caps reply: “NO.”

—

By the time y’all got to the Airbnb—a seaside cliff mansion with glass floors and lemon trees—KK was already filming the “MTV Cribs” intro and pretending the marble staircase was hers.

“I’m standing in the foyer of my $12.6 million vacation home,” she said with a straight face. “Shoes off, bitches.”

Nika looked over at you and mouthed: thank you.

You just shrugged and said, “You’re lucky I like your face.”

She kissed you right then and there, right in front of the team. No warning. No lead-up. Just one hand in your hair, lips soft but certain, like she knew she was the only person in the world you’d do this for.

KK screamed. Ice nearly fell off the balcony. Paige shouted from the hot tub, “ABOUT TIME.”

Nika pulled back, smiling. “You didn’t even flinch.”

You licked your gloss and smirked. “This isn’t new to me, sweetheart. You are.”

—

Dinner was chaos.

Jana accidentally ordered six pounds of squid.

Ayanna somehow started a heated debate over whether or not Sprite tastes better in Europe.

KK tried to convince the media team to film a fake reality show called “UConn: Overseas and Overdramatic.”

You didn’t talk much, just scrolled your phone and occasionally fed Nika from your plate. She was wrapped up in a silk robe with sunglasses on indoors like she was born in this life. You leaned over halfway through and whispered, “Y’know I would’ve taken just you.”

She smiled without looking. “I know. But this makes it better.”

Later that night, Paige found you two curled up under the stars with a blanket wrapped around you both. You were showing Nika old baby pictures your mom had sent, and she was mocking your 5th-grade bowl cut like it didn’t make you bite your lip every time she giggled.

“Y’all are disgusting,” Paige muttered.

“Don’t be mad,” you said without looking up. “Some of us are in our soft era.”

Nika kissed your temple. “She said what she said.”

—

By the time the trip ended, the tag #PassportPrincess was trending. Every girl on the team had posted at least one thirst trap in matching white dresses on the yacht. One of the assistant coaches got a tattoo. The media crew uploaded a vlog called “Day in the Life of the Richest D1 Team to Ever Exist” and your comment—“y’all better not post me eating that lemon peel”—became the pinned top like.

When you touched down in the States, Nika leaned over and kissed your cheek one last time before getting off the jet.

“You’re really insane for this.”

You tucked your sunglasses on. “Only for you.”

She paused, grinning. “Next trip?”

You raised a brow. “Greece? Paris? Turks?”

She snorted. “Nah, just wanted to go to Target.”

You nodded. “I’ll get my keys.”

And that’s how the most expensive group vacation in college basketball history ended—with you pushing a red cart through the toy aisle while Nika danced to the store playlist.

Life was good. And she was worth every penny.

[sturniololuvz]

can you do like a part two of Lego boy “unexpected crush” and Lego boy “Liam” came over to finish building the legos and they are flirting with eachother when everybody was in there room and they are in the living room so they start making out and Chris walks in on Lego boy and the sister making out and they start teasing her about it

(This also sucks I’m sorry I’ll give you more ideas when I can!!)

-🔥

it doesn’t suck lol!!!

“Lego boy”

Part two of “Unexpected Crush”

Y/N sat cross-legged on the living room floor, sifting through the pile of Lego pieces spread out in front of her. Liam sat next to her, their shoulders brushing every so often as they worked together to finish the Lego set they’d started last time.

“Okay, but I’m just saying, if I wasn’t here, this whole thing would be falling apart,” Liam teased, smirking as he clicked a piece into place.

“Oh, please,” Y/N scoffed, nudging him playfully. “You literally put that last piece on backward.”

Liam gasped dramatically. “Wow. First, you steal my Legos, and now you insult my skills? You really know how to hurt a guy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. The rest of the house had gone quiet, which meant her brothers were in their rooms, giving her and Liam a rare moment of peace. The playful teasing had gradually turned into lingering glances and subtle touches—his fingers brushing hers when they reached for the same piece, the way he leaned in closer than necessary to check the instructions.

“You got something on your face,” Liam said, leaning in slightly.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Nice try, that’s the oldest trick in the book.”

Liam chuckled. “No, seriously, you do.” He reached forward, brushing his thumb gently over her cheek, his touch warm and lingering.

Her breath hitched as their eyes met. The air between them shifted, the teasing tension turning into something else entirely. Without really thinking, Y/N closed the space between them, pressing her lips against his. Liam responded instantly, his hands settling on her waist as he deepened the kiss.

The Lego set was completely forgotten as Y/N moved onto his lap, her hands tangling in his hair. It was the kind of kiss that made her head spin—slow, intense, and way overdue.

Just as things were heating up, a voice rang out—loud and unmistakably amused.

“NO. WAY.”

Y/N and Liam sprang apart like they’d been electrocuted, scrambling back to their original spots. Chris stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a smug grin stretching across his face.

“Oh my God—” Y/N started, face burning.

Chris immediately turned and sprinted down the hallway. “NICK! MATT! YOU’RE NOT GONNA BELIEVE WHAT I JUST WALKED IN ON!”

Liam groaned, running a hand down his face. “We’re so dead.”

Footsteps pounded from down the hall as Nick and Matt came barreling in.

“What? What happened?” Nick demanded.

Chris, still grinning like an idiot, pointed at Y/N and Liam. “Caught them full-on making out on the couch.”

Matt’s jaw dropped, and Nick wheezed out a laugh. “Oh, this is gold,” Nick said. “Lego Boy really built his way into Y/N’s heart, huh?”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands as the boys burst into laughter. Liam, to his credit, just sat there with a sheepish grin.

Chris flopped onto the couch beside her, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “So, should we start wedding planning now, or…?”

Y/N shoved him off. “I hate you.”

Liam just chuckled, leaning over to whisper, “Worth it.”

And despite her embarrassment, Y/N couldn’t help but agree.

[the-winter-spider]

Yours, Always | Part Eleven

Steve x reader, Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: All of it

A/N: the way i woulda left steve the moment bucky got back but i guess thats not realistic 🤣🤣 i just cant wait for the dramatics ugh

Masterpost

---

The task was supposed to be simple. But nothing about war was ever simple. Bucky had been through enough hell by now to know that.

It was supposed to be their last operation before heading back home, one more and he’d be back where he belonged. Back with his Ma. Back to where he belonged, back to where he should have never left but he had to, back to you. That was all he thought about as he moved through the dense, humid jungle, his rifle heavy in his hands.

You.

You, standing on your parents’ porch, arms crossed, rolling your eyes at something stupid he said. You, twirling your hair between your fingers as you read one of your books. You, in the passenger seat of his truck, bare feet on the dash, singing along to some old song on the radio. You, in the box of his truck where you shared something with him you’ll never be able to get back. You, who stole his heart and he never wanted it back. You, staring at him like he was your whole world, before he shattered it.

“Stay close,” Sam muttered, eyes sharp as he scanned the treeline. “I don’t like this.”

“Since when do you ever like anything?” Bucky shot back, but he gripped his gun a little tighter.

Sam didn’t laugh and that’s when Bucky knew.

That’s when the first shot rang out. It all happened too fast.

One second, he was walking, heart pounding, sweat dripping down his spine. The next, an explosion lit up the sky, the ground shaking beneath him.

His ears rang, his vision blurred, but he forced himself to move, to fight, to find his men. But they were already surrounded.

A dozen, maybe more, masked soldiers, rifles raised, shouting orders in a language Bucky didn’t understand. A gun barrel slammed against the back of his head, and he dropped to his knees.

“Fuck,” Sam rasped somewhere beside him, his hands behind his head as they yanked his gear off.

Bucky barely heard him. Because all he could think about was you. The last thing he had ever said to you.

“I have to do this.”

And the last thing you had ever said to him.

“I hate you. I never want to see you again.”

He had clung to every word you had ever said to him, every moment you ever shared with him until they were ingrained in his skin.

Did you know that if he could take it all back, he would? That he would have never left? That he loved you? Maybe you never knew. Maybe you already moved on or maybe you’ll just give up on him like he’s sure the rest of the world will now.

It wasn’t fair. But then again, nothing ever had been and as the butt of a rifle crashed against his temple, as the world faded into darkness, Bucky thought, maybe this was what he deserved.

---

Sam doesn’t waste a second. The moment he sees you, he grins wide and pulls you into a tight hug, his arms warm and firm around you.

“It’s good to see you again” he says, giving you a squeeze. “Feels like I see you every day, though.” You don’t even get the chance to ask him what he means before

“Sam.” Bucky’s voice is low, warning.

Sam smirks but wisely keeps his mouth shut. You laugh softly against Sam’s shoulder, but your eyes are locked on Bucky’s, and his are locked right back on yours. There’s something unreadable in them. Something that makes your stomach twist.

Sam finally releases you and turns to Steve, extending his hand. “I’m Sam. Nice to meet you, man.”

Steve shakes his hand firmly. “Steve.”

You and Bucky are just standing there, caught in this moment, caught in this place between the past and present, between what was and what could have been.

Sam clears his throat. Loudly.

You blink, snapping back to reality. “Bucky,” you breathe.

Bucky swallows hard. “Y/N.”

Then you close the space between you, wrapping your arms around him, and he hugs you just as tightly, his grip strong, steady, like he’s afraid to let go because he never wants to.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against your hair.

You close your eyes. “I missed you too.”

Bucky pulls back just enough to look at you, his hand brushing lightly against your back. His eyes soften as they trace over your face, drinking in every inch.

“You look beautiful,” he says, voice rough with emotion. “I never realized how much I missed seeing you back home.”

Your chest tightens, but you smile. “I missed you too,” you whisper.

Then, taking a deep breath, you glance over toward Steve. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Bucky tenses slightly, but you take his hand without thinking, tugging him toward where Steve and Sam are standing. Sam has already wandered off, introducing himself to your mom, leaving Steve alone.

“Bucky, this is Steve. Steve, this is Bucky.”

For a moment, they just look at each other. Then Bucky extends his hand, and Steve does the same, shaking it firmly.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Steve says, his voice steady. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Bucky huffs a small laugh, brushing his hair behind his ear. “Mostly me being a shit-disturber, probably.”

Steve grins. “Yeah, mostly.”

They both laugh, and Bucky’s eyes flicker to you again, that same look in them, the one that makes your heart feel too full, too heavy. The one that makes you feel like his whole world, because to him, you are and Steve sees it, but he doesn’t say anything because how could he?

The moment is broken when Lily comes running up, giggling as she jumps into your arms. You spin her around before setting her down, and she immediately turns to Bucky, wide-eyed.

“This is your Bucky?” she asks, studying him curiously. “I know you from the pictures, this is your Bucky?”

You laugh. “Yeah, baby, this is my Bucky.”

Bucky crouches down to her level, offering his hand. “Hey, I’m Bucky. Who are you?”

She shakes his hand, grinning. “I’m Lily, your hair is really long.”

Bucky throws his head back and laughs, deep and full.

From beside Steve, Sam laughs “I told you!”

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Yeah, it is. I should probably get it cut, huh?”

Lily frowns. “No! Boys can have long hair too.”

He smirks. “Fair point.”

Then she tilts her head, eyes bright. “I hear you’re my mommy’s best friend.”

Bucky glances up at you, his throat working as he swallows, before looking back at Lily. “I am.”

Lily nods, satisfied. “Good. ‘Cause she really missed her best friend.”

Something in Bucky’s expression cracks. His lips part, but for a second, no words come out. Then, softly “I really missed my best friend too.”

Steve steps in then, clearing his throat lightly. “Hey, why don’t we go fix you a burger, Lil? They’re all done.”

Lily nods enthusiastically, giving you a quick hug before running off with Steve.

Sam joins them by the grill, and you glance at Bucky, who’s already watching you.

“Wanna do a lap?” you ask quietly.

Bucky nods.

You and Bucky walk side by side, slowly tracing the outskirts of the yard. The sounds of laughter and clinking plates echo softly from the porch, but out here, it’s quiet. Peaceful.

Bucky exhales, his hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m glad you’re here.”

You glance up at him, the corners of your lips lifting. “Me too. I missed this place so much, but coming back has been…difficult. With you here, though?” You take a breath. “It feels like home again.”

He nods, looking down at his boots as he scuffs them against the grass. “I don’t think I’m leaving.”

You blink at him in surprise. “No?”

He shakes his head. “Loud noises… crowds… it’s too much for me now. The city, all the people, the sirens…I can’t do it. But here? Here, it’s quiet. It helps.” He pauses, chewing on the inside of his cheek before murmuring, “I used to dream about this. About being back, with Ma, with you and now that I’m here, sometimes it still doesn’t feel real. Like maybe I never made it out, I just died and this is heaven.”

Your throat tightens. A single tear escapes before you can stop it, sliding down your cheek. Bucky sees it instantly. Before you can wipe it away, he does his fingers brushing gently over your skin, his touch warm, steady, grounding.

“You’re real,” you whisper. “You’re here.”

His lips press into a thin line, his blue eyes searching yours. He pulls you into another hug, holding you tight, his chin resting on the top of your head. You breathe him in, clinging to him for just a moment longer before pulling back.

Bucky’s gaze flickers past you, toward the porch.

“Steve seems like a really good guy,” he says, his voice unreadable.

You follow his gaze. Steve is already watching, his expression calm but unreadable as he gives you a small wave.

You wave back before murmuring, “He is, he’s the best.”

There’s a beat of silence before you admit, barely above a whisper, “I don’t feel like I deserve him though.”

Bucky’s head turns toward you sharply, like he’s about to ask why, before he can, Winnie’s voice rings out. “Come on, you two! Food’s ready!”

You glance back toward the house. Bucky hesitates, like he’s debating whether or not to press further. But in the end, he just nods.

“C’mon,” he murmurs.

----

You were driving, the sun setting in the rearview mirror, painting the sky in gold and rose. Steve was in the passenger seat, one hand lazily draped out the open window, the wind threading through his fingers.

“Why don’t we ever go to where you grew up?”

The question hung in the air, casual but weighted. Your hands tightened around the wheel, knuckles going white.

You swallowed, watching the road stretch endlessly ahead of you. “What do you mean?”

He turned his head, studying you, his blue eyes soft but searching. “I mean, we’ve taken a million road trips. We’ve gone upstate, down south, to the coast, through the mountains. But we never go back there. You never even mention it.”

Your breath hitched, but you masked it well.

You shrugged, forcing a lightness into your voice that you didn’t quite feel. “There’s not much to see.”

Steve hummed lowly, unconvinced. “Not even for nostalgia’s sake?”

You exhaled through your nose. “Some places are better left in the past, Steve.”

That should have been the end of it.

But Steve was Steve, kind, patient, and always paying attention. He didn’t press, but he also didn’t let things go. He let the silence stretch between you, like he was giving you space to fill it.

And maybe it was the way the evening light softened everything, or the steady hum of the tires against the pavement, or the fact that you were just a little too tired to keep running from it, but the truth threatened to spill. Because the real answer?

You couldn’t go back. Not without seeing ghosts in the places where you used to be alive. Not without feeling like your ribs were caving in. Not without aching for something you lost before you even had the chance to hold it.

Not without feeling like you were leaving a part of yourself behind all over again.

The question lingered between you, stretching out into the spaces neither of you had filled. Steve let the silence sit, didn’t push, but he was still looking at you. Still waiting.

You could feel his gaze even as you kept your eyes on the road, watching the painted lines blur past. You forced a breath through your nose, your grip loosening on the wheel just slightly.

Before he could ask again, before he could dig beneath the surface of what you weren’t ready to say, you answered.

“Here’s better anyway.” It came out quiet, but firm. Final.

Steve studied you for a long second, then turned his head back toward the window, letting the wind catch his hair.

He didn’t argue, didn’t question it. Didn’t say that you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself just as much as him.

He just nodded, eyes fixed on the fading skyline. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess it is.”

---

The fire crackles softly in the quiet of the night, casting flickering shadows over your backyard. The scent of burning wood fills the air, mingling with the faintest trace of beer and summer.

Your mom and Winnie had taken Lily for ice cream before announcing that she’d be sleeping in Gigi’s room for a summer sleepover. “You two should go have some fun,” your mom had said, wagging her finger at you and Steve with a smirk. “Like old times.”

Now, it’s just the four of you, sitting around the fire, beers in hand, laughter still lingering from the stories you and Bucky had been telling.

Steve and Sam are getting along surprisingly well. When Sam finds out that Steve works with veterans, part rehab, part outreach, part training at a gym that partners with the VA they immediately start swapping stories about people they both know, common connections between their two very different worlds.

It’s easy, the kind of conversation that flows effortlessly. They talk about fitness programs and training regimens, about how important it is for soldiers to find purpose when they return home.

“They need something,” Steve says, shaking his head. “A reason to get up in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Sam nods. “It’s why I started helping out at the support groups. It’s the in-between, y’know? Before they figure out what comes next.”

Bucky takes a sip of his beer, staying quiet as he listens.

The conversation drifts back to the past, to you and Bucky as kids, and before you know it, you’re both laughing, taking turns telling stories.

“—so we were just about to hop the fence when I saw the headlights,” Bucky says, grinning. “She was already on the other side, too far ahead, and I hissed at her to stop, but do you think she listened?”

Steve is already laughing. “No way.”

“Of course not,” Bucky shakes his head. “She’s halfway to the pool when I see the car pull up and I know it’s the cops and she’s just standing there, staring at me like I have all the answers—”

“I was weighing my options!” you interject, chuckling.

“She was weighing her options,” Bucky repeats mockingly, rolling his eyes. “Then the sirens come on, and I swear to God, I’ve never seen her move faster in my life.”

Steve is full-on laughing now. “And what, you got caught?”

“Yeah, we got caught,” Bucky huffs. “And do you wanna know why?”

You grin. “Yeah yeah, because I was laughing too loud.”

Bucky points at you, exasperated. “Exactly! And yet, somehow, I was still the troublemaker in this friendship.”

“You were the troublemaker,” you counter.

Steve shakes his head, still grinning. “Were you guys the kind of friends that were like, ‘if you do it, I’ll do it too’?”

“Oh yeah, man,” Bucky says without hesitation, tilting his beer toward you. “Every damn time.”

Steve nods knowingly. “That was me and Natasha. Our whole group, really.”

Sam tilts his head. “Who’s Natasha?”

Steve’s expression softens just slightly, and he clears his throat. “She’s Lily’s mother.”

Sam’s eyebrows lift just a little before his gaze flickers to you and then, suddenly to Bucky.

“She, uh, she passed away during childbirth. There were complications.”

Sam exhales, nodding. “I’m sorry for your loss, man.”

Steve gives him a small nod, not saying anything more.

The conversation shifts again, Sam telling Steve about the classic car he’s been working on, and that’s all it takes to reel Steve back in. “No way, let me see it,” he grins.

“C’mon, I parked it out front,” Sam says, already standing up.

Steve looks over at you. “That okay?”

You nod. “Of course it’s okay.”

Steve leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before following Sam across the yard toward the garage pad, just like that, it’s only you and Bucky now.

The fire crackles beside you filling the silence. Till you finally speak “You check out any of our old spots yet?” you ask, glancing at him as you get up.

Bucky takes a swig of his beer, shaking his head. “Nah… feels wrong without you,” he admits, eyes flicking to yours before he looks ahead again. “I mostly just stick to Ma’s house. Grocery store, city with Sam once or twice… other than that, I’ve just been fixing up things around the house. Stuff Ma’s been neglecting.”

You smile a little, finishing off your beer.

Bucky chuckles, watching you. “Always an eager beaver,” he teases.

You roll your eyes, opening another. “Shall we go for a walk?”

He raises a brow. “You wanna do laps around the yard again? Were not dogs y’know?” He jokes

You shake your head, grinning. “Smartass, but nope. Grab another one.”

Bucky doesn’t even hesitate. He grabs another for himself, another for you, and you shoot off a quick text to Steve:

Taking Bucky to our old spot, be back soon <3

A moment later, Steve responds: Have fun baby! Helping Sam fix something on his car.

You smirk. “Your new best friend is occupying Steve, and Steve is occupying your new best friend.”

Bucky laughs as you both start walking. “There is no new best friend. There’s only one and that’s you.” He nudges your arm with his. “Sam’s just… someone I’m now stuck with for the rest of my life.”

“Poor you,” you tease, bumping him back.

Silence settles between you as you make your way through the familiar streets, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s easy, natural.

“Remember when we climbed that tree?” Bucky nods towards an old oak by the edge of someone’s yard.

You snort. “You climbed. I fell. Sprained my wrist.”

He grins. “Right. Your Mom was pissed.”

“You were supposed to catch me, Buck.”

“You were supposed to warn me before you jumped,” he fires back.

You laugh, shaking your head as the memories come flooding back once you supressed for years.

A few minutes later, you reach your old spot, a clearing by the pond, tucked behind a stretch of trees. It’s exactly how you remember it. The moon reflects off the water, the leaves rustle softly in the night breeze, and a deep sense of nostalgia washes over you.

Bucky sighs, stretching his arms out as he takes a seat on the grass. “God, it’s like muscle memory.”

You nod, sitting beside him. “I know. Didn’t even have to think to get here.”

Bucky hands you your beer, popping the cap off both of yours, you feel seventeen again and just like that you’re finally home.

The night was thick with summer heat, the air humming with the distant chirp of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. The pond stretched out before you, glassy and still, reflecting the sliver of moonlight cutting through the trees. It looked exactly the same.

Like time had stopped here. Like it had been waiting for you to come back.

Bucky sat beside you on the damp grass, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the water like he could find all the answers to the last decade hidden beneath the surface. His hair was longer now, just brushing his jawline, but the wind still caught the strands like it used to. His left shoulder, the one still healing, was wrapped in bandages beneath his shirt, and he winced slightly when he shifted, but you didn’t acknowledge it. He wouldn’t want you to.

Silence had stretched between you for what felt like hours, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was heavy, though. Full of things unsaid.

“You remember how we used to come out here and try to catch fireflies?” you murmured, absently picking at a blade of grass between your fingers.

Bucky huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. You were always better at it.”

“You let me win.”

He turned to look at you, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. “No, I didn’t.”

You raised an eyebrow, but he just stared at you, something lingering in his gaze, something raw. Your stomach twisted, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the water again.

The night air was thick, clinging to your skin like a second layer. The quiet hum of cicadas filled the spaces between your breaths, between the words that neither of you had spoken yet.

You could feel him watching you. He always did that—like he was memorizing, like if he blinked too long, you’d disappear.

“I don’t wanna go back,” Bucky said suddenly, voice quiet but firm, like he had been sitting on the thought for a while, like it had been resting heavy on his chest.

Your breath hitched. “Back where?”

“Anywhere that isn’t here, with you.”

Your fingers curled into the grass beneath you, grounding yourself in something, anything. “Bucky…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he cut in gently, shaking his head. “I just… I need you to know that. I need you to know that if I could choose, if I ever had that choice again, I never would have left.”

The words hit you like a blow, knocking the air from your lungs.

“But you did.” It came out before you could stop it, barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s eyes flinched shut, pain flashing across his face like a crack of lightning. When he opened them again, they burned with something raw, something ruined. “I did.”

Silence settled between you, thick and suffocating, pressing against your ribs. You wanted to let it crush you. You wanted to push against it. You didn’t know what you wanted.

Bucky exhaled, tilting his head back, looking up at the sky. “You know, when I was over there, there were nights when I’d close my eyes and I’d picture this. You. Here. I’d think if I could just reach out, if I could just touch you, I’d know I wasn’t dead yet.”

Your chest twisted painfully.

“I used to think that if I ever got back to you, I’d never let go again.” His voice was hoarse, wrecked. “And now I’m here, and I can’t even fucking hold you.”

You turned to him then, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, even though it hurt. “You could.”

His whole body tensed, like the air had been knocked out of him, like he had been bracing for a hit and hadn’t realized it was coming from you. His fingers twitched at his side, barely noticeable, but you saw.

His voice was rough when he spoke. “Don’t.”

“Bucky.”

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

Your throat tightened, because you did. You meant it.

His hand moved then, so small, so slight that it almost didn’t happen at all. His fingertips brushed against yours, warm, trembling.

But then, he pulled away, like it burned.

A bitter chuckle left his lips, and he shook his head. “I’m finally here, we’re finally here, and I still just can’t. I don't want to ruin this for you."

The weight of it all pressed against your chest, heavy and unbearable. You sucked in a sharp breath, blinking against the tears stinging at the edges of your vision.

“We should go back,” you murmured.

Bucky nodded, "Yeah." but neither of you moved right away because there was no going back. Not really.

--

The air between you crackled with tension, thick and suffocating. The reflection of the moon danced across the surface of the pond, but you weren’t looking at it. You were looking at him. Furious, heartbroken, tired.

“You always do this,” you snapped, your voice sharp, cutting through the night like a blade.

Bucky scoffed, running a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “Do what?”

“Ruin things for me!” you shouted, throwing your hands in the air. “Every time something good happens, you find a way to step in and mess it up! Why?”

His jaw clenched, his shoulders tense. “Because I know you! And I know you’re not gonna find love with any of those guys.”

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “And how the hell would you know that?”

“Because it’s not them, Y/N! It’s never gonna be them!” His voice was raw now, desperate, but you were too angry to hear it the way he meant it.

“How is that fair?” Your voice cracked, the weight of all the unspoken things pressing down on you. “How can you say that to me and then go kiss all those girls at the parties? Huh? How is that fair to me, Bucky?”

He flinched, his face falling for half a second before he masked it with anger. “That’s different.”

“Different?” You laughed bitterly. “How? How is it different?”

“Because you’re not them!”

The words hung heavy between you, an admission, a confession wrapped in frustration and regret.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your hands trembling. “Then what am I, Bucky?”

His lips parted, but no words came out. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his fists clenching at his sides.

But he said nothing and that silence hurt more than anything he could have said.

You let out a broken breath, shaking your head. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Then, without another word, you turned and walked away and for the first time in his life, Bucky didn’t follow you.

--

The walk back was slow, deliberate, neither of you in a rush to leave the quiet behind. The night air was thick with something unspoken, something you had carried for over a decade. The only sound was the rustling of the trees and the occasional crunch of your footsteps against the dirt path.

The walk back was quiet, but the weight between you was anything but light. The air was thick with something unspoken, something that had been left lingering between you for over a decade. Your fingers fidgeted at your sides, and finally, you found the courage to speak.

“Bucky… why?”

He glanced at you, confused. “Why what?”

“Why did you leave?” Your voice was steady, but there was something fragile underneath. “I never really understood why you left.”

Bucky slowed his steps, inhaling deeply as if he needed a second to brace himself. Then, after a beat, he turned his head toward you. “Have you read that last letter yet?”

You hesitated, the guilt settling deep in your chest as you shook your head. “No.”

Bucky nodded, like that answer didn’t surprise him. “It’s in there,” he murmured. “Read it, and you’ll understand.”

You swallowed hard, staring down at the dirt path beneath your feet. “Okay,” you said quietly.

He glanced over at you again, his voice softer this time. “Just… promise me when we get back, you’ll read it.”

You nodded. “I promise, Bucky.”

His shoulders eased slightly, and he exhaled like he had been holding something in. “And then we’ll talk about it later?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

The porch light flickered, casting a warm glow over the front yard as you and Bucky walked up the driveway. Sam was leaning against the hood of his car, arms crossed, watching Steve’s legs stick out from underneath it.

You smirked. “Are you giving out free labor, Steve?”

Steve slid out from under the car, wiping his hands on a rag. “Well, someone had to help this guy before his car falls apart.” He shot Sam a pointed look.

Sam scoffed. “Hey, don’t blame me! I was letting her breathe.”

Bucky chuckled as he grabbed a beer from the cooler sitting on the steps. “Sure, that’s what it was.”

Sam ignored him, grinning instead. “Anyway, the towns two troublemakers are back.” He narrowed his eyes playfully. “You two didn’t get into anything, did you?”

Bucky shook his head, smirking. “Nah. Just hit up our old spot.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Where’s that?”

Bucky chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. “Like I’d ever tell you. It’s our spot for a reason.”

Steve stood beside you, wiping sweat from his brow, but he missed a streak of oil on his forehead. You didn’t think, you just reached out, licking your thumb before gently wiping it away.

Bucky’s breath hitched, just barely as he watched, Steve’s eyes were locked onto yours. It was such a small thing, such a simple thing, yet it felt intimate and Bucky hated it.

His entire body stiffened. His jaw clenched, his grip on his beer tightening. He looked away, swallowing hard, shoving the feeling down, burying it beneath layers of years lost and moments stolen.

Sam noticed immediately. He saw the way Bucky’s hand twitched, the way his chest rose and fell just a little too fast. “Alright,” Sam said suddenly, clapping his hands. “I think we should call it a night. None of us are as young as we used to be. Some of us aged worse than others, but I won’t name names.” He coughed, loudly, pointedly right at Bucky.

Bucky rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. “You’re hilarious Wilson.” But it was enough to shake him out of his mood, to pull him back before the jealousy settled too deep.

You watched the exchange, noticing how effortlessly Sam pulled Bucky out of his own head. The way they cared for each other was obvious, unspoken, but real. You smiled. “I agree. I promised Lily we’d be at the diner bright and early tomorrow.”

Steve stretched, cracking his neck. “You guys should come.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, we’ll be there.” He pulled Steve into one of those brotherly hugs, patting his back before turning to you, wrapping you up in a warm hug. “Goodnight, troublemaker.”

You laughed. “Goodnight, Sam.”

Your gaze drifted to Bucky. He didn’t step forward, didn’t reach for you. Instead, he just lifted a hand in a small wave. “Hope you two have a great night.”

Something about it felt off. Your stomach twisted, but before you could say anything, he turned and walked toward Sam and just like that, the night ended with a lingering weight in your chest.

[fastlikealambo]

Connubium.|| Coriolanus Snow x Black Fem Reader

Chapter One

table of contents.

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

Chapter Three.

Chapter Four.

Summary: Stealing from The Capitol is a deadly offense, yet you’ve done it more times than you can count but when you do something you should not have done, Volumnia Gaul decides a fate for you that might just be worse than death.

Notes: This takes place post The Ballad of Songbirds And Snakes and Coryo is in his last year at The University, studying under Dr. Gaul. This might not follow canon, I’m not an expert on all the lore so I apologize if I get things wrong.

Disclaimer: You know Coriolanus is a POS, I know Coriolanus is a POS, please don’t yell at me because this is just a fun little story, something for thee hotties, and  if you feel that strongly against President Snow, please let me know if you’d like me to sign you up for tessarae.

This is a quick sample chapter to test the waters and see what people think! If you’d like to see more, please comment, reblog, or like!

The streets of The Capitol looked different during the day. 

You were used to the shadows, two feet in the dark at all times kept you secret, kept you safe, hiding was not cowardly, it was instinctual.

But you weren’t hiding now, a coward in high heels and stockings dark enough to hide the  purpling bruises that kissed the back of your legs, a high collar dress and coat the color of fresh blood concealed the rest that served as a reminder of how you got there in the first place.

Somewhere, a clock struck noon and as if on a timer of his own, Coriolanus Snow emerged from the university doors, chiseled face even more sculpted in person and  you took your place on the opposite side of the road.

You stepped off the curb, turning your face ever so slightly towards a camera and a tucked curl behind your ear signaled the car Gaul had waiting to come barreling around the corner and down the street.

A few capitol citizens jumped back onto the sidewalk but not you, you had your nose in a book, seemingly oblivious to the car that would surely end your miserable little life if this plan did not work.

You did not know Coriolanus Snow, but you did know men. 

Peacekeepers who’d do anything to relax after a hard day, Capitol boys who wanted to know if district lips tasted like treason or honey wine, they were all the same when the lights were off and pockets went unattended.

You tripped and dropped the books, loud enough for Snow to look up and see the car mere feet from you now as you bent down to retrieve the books,  silently cursing everything and everyone that had led you to this moment.

It occurred to you now that perhaps the madwoman in the lab had no designs on Snow that required you and this was an opportunity for her to kill someone in a fun, if not slightly convoluted, way.

You were going to die.

And then, you weren’t.

The lean body of Panem’s golden boy crashed into yours before the car did, strong arms around your middle and sent you both tumbling out of harm’s way. That pretty face of his blocked out the sun and the whole world went still, freezing the pair of you in a tableau of heaving chests and scraped hands.

Beauty made men blind and you had made a blind man of Coriolanus Snow.

And now, the games begin.

[burnednotburied]

Chapter 5: The Aquarium

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas; sorry (but not that sorry) to any Owen fans, but he’s kinda a huge asshole in this

Note: I added chapter titles and finally figured out exactly where I’m going with this story lol. Hooray for having a plan!!

(Sorry it took more than two weeks to get this chapter out! End-of-semester craziness, ya know? I hope this chapter being like twice as long as usual makes up for it!)

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

Abby realized too late that she probably should’ve warned you about the life-sized whales on the ceiling.

By the look on your face, she could tell you’ve never seen anything like it.

Which made sense. She hadn’t either before she and Owen found this place three years ago.

She paused to watch you for just a second, taking in your amazed expression as you marveled at the enormous hanging sea creatures above you.

Abby could easily remember what her first time here was like. How incredible and other-worldly this place felt. She imagined it must be even more overwhelming for you, this fractured piece of a world you were not a part of and knew little about. A world where humans built a place where they could go to look at fish for no reason other than that it was entertaining. A world where people did things just for fun.

Of course, Abby had also never been a part of that world, but at least she knew about it. She’d caught glimpses of it, carefully and intentionally gathering bits and pieces. She watched films and documentaries. She read novels and history books, newspapers and magazines if she could find them.

Knowledge was power. And, to Abby, having power was important. Having power meant being able to keep the people she cared about safe.

And if you had enough power, no one could ever take it away from you.

So she dedicated herself to becoming powerful, both of mind and of body. It’s all she had known and cared about since she lost her dad.

It’s why she lost Owen.

She still wasn’t sure if that had been a good thing or a bad thing, but she knew she felt guilty about it.

Three years ago, Owen had quickly claimed the aquarium as his own. He cleaned it up, made it feel as homey as possible, and spent as much time here as he could get away with. Abby didn’t tell anyone, not even the rest of the Salt Lake crew. It was right around the time they were breaking up. She felt like she owed him her discretion at the very least. Not that it really made up for anything.

Yesterday morning, when Nora told Abby that Owen was missing, she assumed he’d come here.

God, she hoped she was right.

Abby shifted the injured Yara in her arms, her muscles burning from carrying the girl for so long.

It was early in the morning now. The sun had just begun to rise as the four of you had been making your way into the aquarium.

“Owen!” she shouted, leading the way down one of the hallways off the main entrance. Abby thought he would most likely be out on the boat, either sleeping or continuing in his never-ending attempts to get the thing in working order.

“Owen!” she called out again. “Owen! Are you here?”

She paused for a moment, listening. Nothing.

“Owen—”

“I’m here.” She heard his voice just before he rounded the corner, stopping short when he saw the whole group of you. “Are those Scars?” he asked, genuinely surprised and definitely confused as hell.

Abby ignored the question. “I need whatever medical supplies you have.”

Before Owen could respond, Alice came barreling around the corner, barking aggressively at the perceived enemies.

The next few seconds were chaotic to say the least.

You screamed and jumped back. Lev reacted quickly, his bow drawn and an arrow notched.

“Alice, no!” Abby yelled out.

Owen grabbed for the German Shepherd, holding her back as she continued to lunge forward, trying to attack.

“Put the bow down! It’s okay!” Abby shouted.

Owen gripped the dog’s harness tightly. “Put that down!”

“Alice, shut up! Lev, put the bow down!”

“Alice, stop—Abby, what the fuck?!”

“Lev, listen to them! Put it down!” you insisted, putting a hand on his shoulder as you tried to push him behind you.

All of this happened simultaneously, muffled by the sound of deafening, echoing barking.

“Alice!” a new voice, one that Abby knew belonged to Mel, shouted. To her, the dog listened, sitting down obediently with one final bark.

Mel stood next to Owen and Alice, staring.

There was a moment of silence.

Abby turned to the young boy. “Lev, lower the bow. It’s okay.”

Reluctantly, he listened.

“Abby, who are these people?” Mel asked.

“They saved my life,” she said, hoping that would be enough of an answer for now. “Can you take a look at her?” Abby looked down at Yara, who seemed to be barely conscious in her arms.

Mel dropped a hand on Alice’s head, instructing her to stay, as she slowly stepped closer, eyeing you and Lev cautiously.

“This is Yara,” Abby said before nodding over to the kid at her right, “That’s Lev. And that’s—” She stopped short. She wasn’t about to introduce you to them as Prophet.

Behind her, you spoke, offering up your name. Abby and Lev’s eyes both swung to you, widening for two entirely different reasons.

Abby’s because she was hearing your name for the first time. It was your name. It was like she discovered a brand new piece to this puzzle she had been frantically trying to assemble since the moment she saw you.

She wasn’t sure why Lev looked shocked, but it seemed like a big deal, for you to use your name in place of the title that had been forced upon you by the other Scars.

Abby quietly repeated the name, committing it to memory.

Mel gave a small nod, unaware of the mini revelation that was happening right in front of her, instead focusing on Yara with a concerned look on her face.

“What did this?” she asked, looking down at the girl’s mangled arm.

“A hammer,” you said, stepping forward until you were standing right next to Abby.

“It wasn’t me,” Abby quickly added. Guilty, despite her innocence. She was ashamed that she needed to make that clarification. Worried about what you would think about it.  

Mel hesitated, regarding each of the Scars one by one again before sighing. “Alright. Let’s lay her down.”

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The pregnant woman—clearly someone Abby knew but wasn’t exactly friendly with—decided that Yara had compartment syndrome, which apparently meant they would have to cut her arm off.

While everyone else argued about the best way to accomplish that task, you stood off to the side, feeling sick. If you had been able to stop Emily’s men last night, this wouldn’t be happening.

It shouldn’t be happening.

Yara was going to lose her arm or die because you failed her.

You were trying not to spiral. Trying to be helpful now. (Too little, too late.) Trying to pay attention to the Wolves’ conversation.

They didn’t have the supplies they needed to perform the amputation safely. Yara didn’t have time to wait the couple days it would take Abby to travel all the way to the hospital and back.

“What if we could get you there in two hours?” Lev asked, hands grasping the metal table where Yara laid in the center of the room. “The Wolf hospital, right? On the west side?”

The man—Owen—stood, interested. “How?”

“The bridges,” you said, realizing what Lev was getting at. All eyes turned to you. “Our people built them. High up.”

Lev nodded. “It’s how we get around the flooding. And… you people.”

After a quiet moment, Abby stepped forward. “Can she handle two hours?”

The woman considered this, her hand comfortingly placed on Yara’s shoulder. “Probably, yeah.”

Abby nodded. “Then make a list of what you need.”

Owen stepped closer, joining the circle the rest of you had formed around Yara. “Wait. Are you serious? Abby, these bridges are used by Scars.”

The fact that he was arguing against the plan frustrated you. Yara didn’t have time for this.

“They only send in small groups at a time,” Lev said.

“You heard that? Small groups.” Abby said, watching as the other woman jotted down the supplies on a loose piece of paper and handed it over.

“This isn’t a joke.” Owen looked only at Abby, trying to catch her eyes. She seemed to be actively avoiding making contact.

Instead, she turned to you and said your name, followed by, “Let’s go.”

You looked up at her, at a loss for words. It was sad that something as simple as hearing your name could have this effect on you, but it had been eight years since you’d heard it… And this was already the second time Abby had said it.

You wanted to turn and walk right out the door with her, happy to follow her anywhere, but reality set it.

“I can’t,” you said. “I don’t know where the hospital is. And I don’t know our bridges well enough to guide you. It will have to be Lev.” It looked like Abby might argue with you, or at least tell you to come with them.

You wanted to. The idea of letting Lev go back out into danger without you made you sick with worry. But, foolish as it may seem, you trusted Abby to look out for him. And you didn’t understand these other Wolves and the strange dynamic at play here. You certainly didn’t trust them to be alone with Yara.

“Someone needs to stay with her,” you said, holding Abby’s gaze.

She nodded, grabbing her backpack off the floor. “Alright. Lev.”

He looked to you, taking your hand in his. The group splitting up must’ve felt wrong to him, too.

Almost on instinct, you did what you had been trained to do. You offered a bit of comfort.

“May She guide you,” you said quietly, giving him a small, encouraging smile as you squeezed his one hand between both of yours.

The words were familiar to you both, a common Seraphite mantra. He reciprocated your tight grasp and finished the line, “May She protect you.”

When you released his hand, he placed it on Yara’s shoulder, as if to tell her goodbye as well. She was unresponsive.

You felt a hand fall on your own shoulder and looked up to find that it was Abby. She nodded her head to the opposite end of the room, impatiently taking your wrist in her hand and leading you over there when you didn’t immediately catch her meaning.

She didn’t let go.

Abby stood close, speaking quietly so that no one else could hear. “We’ll be back as soon as possible. Yara’s going to be fine, okay. And I’ll keep Lev safe.”

You couldn’t help the slight upward curve of your lips. “I know,” you said. “I trust you.”

She blinked, caught off guard, but continued. “I wouldn’t mention the whole you-being-the-Prophet thing to Owen and Mel if I were you.”

“I’m not a prophet,” you deadpanned.

She let out an exasperated breath. “Okay, sure. Well I wouldn’t tell them that the Scars think—”

“Seraphites,” you interjected.

“—Seraphites—Just… you get the point. Don’t mention it, okay?”

“What if they ask questions?”

“Dodge them. Be vague.”

“You don’t trust your friends?” you asked, more serious now.

“No,” Abby said. “Not with you.”

You couldn’t begin to guess what she meant by that.

“I trust them… for the most part.” She glanced at them over your shoulder before meeting your eyes again. “I just don’t know how they would react to that information. It’s not exactly a small thing. I don’t know what they would do with it.”

You looked at her for while longer, then nodded your head. “Okay. I won’t say anything.”

“Abby?” the man’s voice came from behind you.

She let go of your wrist immediately, as if she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

You turned around to find the woman—Mel—and Owen both looking at you like they were witnessing something truly insane, instead of just two people having a conversation.

Lev stood on his own by the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eager to get moving.

From behind you, you felt Abby’s hand wrap around your wrist again, squeezing lightly and then letting go.

“We’ll be back,” she said, this time at a normal volume. She joined Lev by the door, opening it and leading the way out.

“Abby!” Owen said again, moving to follow them out.

Mel groaned, frustrated. “God! Owen, just let them go.” When he ignored her, she went after him, the door slamming loudly behind her.

You stayed behind with Yara.

She was blinking slowly, barely awake, her shallow breaths too few and far between for your liking. You felt helpless, knowing there wasn’t much you could do other than sit and wait.

You pulled up a chair.

Just outside the door, the two Wolves were arguing. Although, you only caught bits and pieces of it.

Something about Abby and Scars and a cloak… Something about someone who looked like she just stepped out of The Lord of the Rings. You didn’t know what that meant, but it was clear they were talking about you.

Again, you unfastened the cloak and freed yourself of your top layer. Whether that was due to embarrassment or a sudden recognition of the uncomfortable warmth of the room, you couldn’t tell.

“Did you see how she was looking at her?” “Owen, why do you care? Why does it matter to you?” you heard through the door.

The dynamic here was becoming more and more confusing.

You’d assumed that Owen was the father of Mel’s child, just because they seemed to live here together. But that didn’t explain Mel’s rather apparent unfavorable opinion of Abby. And it definitely didn’t explain Owen’s preoccupation with Abby.

Their conversation continued for several minutes, volume rising and falling periodically. There wasn’t much you understood and even less of it seemed important or interesting to you.

Eventually, the door swung open again, making you jump in your seat. Mel reentered the room, offering you a strained smile as she checked on Yara. You quietly watched her work.

“There’s not much we can do for her until Abby and your friend get back,” she said to you, eyes still focused on Yara. “If you want, I can get you set up with a place to sleep while we wait.”

“No,” you said, too quickly to be polite. “…Thank you. I’ll stay with Yara.”

Mel pulled her lips into a tight line and nodded, leaving the room again. She came back a few minutes later with water and a shiny red apple, offering them up for you to take.

“Sorry. I know it’s not much. Owen isn’t well-stocked on food right now,” she said after you’d accepted the snack.

You smiled. “Thank you. You’re very kind to be helping us at all.”

Mel didn’t really answer, instead gesturing to the door as she walked toward it. “Well, we’ll… be around. If you need anything. And I’ll come in and check on her periodically.”

You nodded, quietly thanking her again. The discarded cloak that you’d left on a table by the door caught your eye. “Oh. Wait.”

She turned to face you again, eyebrows raised in question.

“What is The Lord of the Rings?” you asked.

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

An excursion that was supposed to take two hours ended up taking nearly all day.

But hey, Abby had done the best she could.

She faced her deeply-rooted fear of heights on that sorry excuse for a bridge. She fought off Infected and Scars. She was, let’s say, detained by her fellow WLF soldiers at the hospital. And then she had to fight and kill what must’ve been the biggest, gnarliest, freakiest blob of cordyceps infection to ever exist.

She barely got out of there alive, but she managed to leave with the medical supplies in hand. Plus tons of new material for her future nightmares.

Mel had started operating as soon as they got back to the aquarium, with Owen assisting her.

You and Lev sat just outside the door the entire time.

The surgery had gone well. Yara was doing okay, all things considered.

After, Owen handed Abby a pile of sleeping bags and blankets and walked off without saying a word.

Abby handed them off to you and carefully lifted Yara again, this time to move her to a more comfortable spot to rest. She led the way to the next room, you and Lev trailing behind.

There was a long couch in the new room. You motioned for Lev to lay down on one end while Abby set Yara down on the other.

She stepped back and watched, amused, as you fussed over the two of them for a few minutes, using most of the blankets on your young friends.

When you were sure they were both as comfortable as possible, you left them to rest and walked back over to Abby. In your arms, you held the two sleeping bags that you hadn’t used on the kids.

You offered one of them to her.

She shook her head, motioning to the space on the floor in front of the couch where there was an old, worn-out rug.

“Lay mine out for me? I have to go do something before I go to sleep.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, looking concerned.

“I just need to talk to Owen. I’ll be right back.”

You studied her face, like you were trying to figure out whether or not she was being truthful.

Abby doubled down, pointing again. “Go. Get some sleep. I’ll be back.”

You sighed but went where she had pointed and began laying out the two sleeping bags.

One for you. One for her. Right next to each other on the floor.

You had been doing a good job of hiding it, but Abby could tell you were exhausted. She couldn’t blame you. Hell, she was exhausted. And the sooner she touched base with Owen, the sooner she could come back.

She turned and went out to track him down.

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

You didn’t know what was wrong with you.

You had been awake for almost forty-eight hours, but you couldn’t fall asleep. Your mind was racing. Filled with worry for Yara, concern about her condition, guilt for having been unable to prevent the injury from happening in the first place. Thoughts of your own people hunting your friends with the intent to kill them. Fear that, despite your desire to keep them safe, your lack of knowledge and experience in the world outside of Haven would make that impossible.

You thought about the woman you killed yesterday. How she’d so tenderly and earnestly called you her Prophet just moments before you snuck up behind her and ended her life.

You wondered if you too were now an apostate. If the Seraphites had found the bodies of Emily and her men and assumed you were dead, or if they somehow knew that you betrayed them all the very moment you were given the chance.

You wondered if your mother knew what you had done. If she would be punished for your sins.

You thought about Abby, hoping that your faith in her was not misplaced. Hoping that your attraction to her hadn’t clouded your judgment.

This was crazy. All of it. It was too much.

You had tossed everything and everyone you’ve ever known aside, thrown the first twenty years of your life to the wind like it meant nothing at all, and run off into the forest with a Wolf without a second thought. And now that you, Yara, and Lev were finally (seemingly) not in immediate danger, you had time to think things through. Contemplate what you’d done and try to figure out where it left you.

By your own hand, your life had been irreparably changed forever. It was done. There was no undoing it. No going back.

You would stay with Lev and Yara. You would stay with Abby if that’s what she wanted.

But where would you go? It wasn’t safe for any of you to stay here.

That wasn’t a question you could answer. You didn’t know of anywhere else. You wouldn’t know how to find a place that was safe.

All of these thoughts bombarded your mind at once, taking turns at the forefront. Contradicting emotions swirled, adding to the chaos.

There was a sadness, a sense of loss for the people you had always belonged to.

Guilt and shame. Two feelings that were not at all foreign to you, but you had never felt as strongly as you did now.

A lightness. A happiness. Almost a thrill. A hopeful nervousness for the freedom you had claimed for yourself, the agency you had uncovered, and the possibility of what was to come.

Sadness, again, for the mother you would miss, and the realization that you had already been missing her for a very long time.

Frustration—simmering anger—for your childhood that was stolen and the shame that did not originate within yourself. The unrelenting voices that lived in your head, weighing in on every thought and critiquing every action. But those voices were not your own. You would take your dagger and cut their presence from your mind, carefully carving them out of your head and disposing of them yourself if you could.

And, amongst everything else taking up space inside of you, demanding your attention, it felt stupid and frivolous and wasteful, but you couldn’t keep Abby from your thoughts. She kept appearing, in the middle of it all. This was something that you truly did not have time for and should not be putting energy toward.

But you had never felt intrinsically drawn to someone in the way you were drawn to her…

Behind you, you could hear slow, heavy breaths coming from either end of the couch. You were glad that Lev and Yara were getting some rest. You’d do your best to make sure they got their fill of it this time.

You got up quietly, trying not to disturb them but feeling like you needed to move. You shook out your arms, rolled your neck around, wiggled your fingers, stretched your legs.

Honestly, you wanted run. Or hit something. Or scream. Loudly and for a long time. Until you ran out of air and your voice was ragged.

But you didn’t do any of those things.

Instead, you went to look for Abby.

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

“Seriously? You’re telling me Isaac’s top Scar killer just… turned over a new leaf? Decided to befriend and help three Scars?” Mel was staring into Abby’s soul, her words dripping in disbelief.

Abby had found her and Owen upstairs, in the same room that had once housed the boat man’s skeleton and the couple’s Christmas stockings (not at the same time, of course).

Owen was angry. Exactly what she had done to earn his anger, she couldn’t say. He held a jar of his homemade moonshine. A jar that was somewhere between three-quarters and one half full. Abby assumed it had been filled to the top just a few minutes ago.

He had apparently decided to be a silent, brooding drunk tonight, so Mel had been the one to interrogate her.

Abby tried to explain everything, albeit keeping things pretty vague. She didn’t want to give them too much information about you specifically, and she didn’t want them to get the wrong idea about you, so she made sure to omit the part where you nearly gutted her. And the part where you were the new Scar Prophet that Isaac was after.

Mel wasn’t buying the part where Abby simply had a change of heart.

She shot Owen a cautious look before she said, “Abby, do you—I thought you might—Is it possible that you’re…” Mel stopped, gathering her thoughts, trying to find the best way to word it. “It’s not… like… a problem that she’s a woman. It’s just… it is kind of a big deal that she’s a Scar—”

“Abby isn’t into a fucking Scar,” Owen interjected, his knuckles white around the mouth of the jar. “And she’s not fucking gay.”

Then he started chugging the jar’s contents, forcing down swallow after painful swallow.

The women were both silent for a second, surprised by the anger in his words.

Abby didn’t know what to say. She knew she was into you—and she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t at least part of the reason why she was helping you and your friends—but she had never considered if that made her gay.

She honestly didn’t really care to label herself as anything either way. It felt stupid—in the honest-to-god post-apocalyptic hellscape that they lived in, where they had been engaged in a never-ending war since they were kids—to care about that kind of thing.

Why should it matter—when her family was dead, her friends were constantly in danger, and there were enemies closing in from every angle—if she was romantically or sexually interested in men or women or both? Wasn’t that almost guaranteed to be the least important detail at any given moment? And why should she waste any of her time or energy trying to define herself in that way?

This was all really new to her. She hadn’t really let herself be interested in anyone since Owen, and she honestly wasn’t sure if she had ever been into him for the right reasons. Again, she remembered how uncomfortable it made her feel to kiss him, to be touched by him…

She couldn’t imagine that it would feel like that if you touched her. And just the fact that she hoped one day she’d find out was probably telling enough.

So maybe, in the Old World, people would’ve called Abby a lesbian. Maybe she would’ve identified with that title if things were different, if her life was lower stakes, and if she’d had more time to explore herself and her interests.

What-ifs didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was here now. You were with her—and she needed to figure out a plan of how to proceed from here—so she could make sure to keep it that way.  She could figure out the rest later.

Mel was the first to speak, annoyed, but addressing him calmly, like she was talking to a rabid animal. “Owen—”

He didn’t even let her get a word in.

“No. This is bullshit! Abby—” He looked past Mel to meet Abby’s gaze, insistent. “I’m going to Santa Barbara to find the Fireflies. If you’re smart, you’ll ditch the Scars and come with me.”

Mel slammed her hands on the table, causing both Abby and Owen to jump. “What the hell do you mean, you’re going to Santa Barbara?! We are going to Santa Barbara!” They weren’t used to seeing violent outbursts from Mel. She was the queen of passive aggression, but she rarely lost her cool. “What is wrong with you, Owen? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? This is all so seriously fucked up.” She turned away from them, clenching her fists at her sides, looking like she might cry. Or hit something. Or both.

But for the first time in years, Abby wasn’t on the receiving end of her disdain.

Guess all she had to do for her old friend to stop seeing her as a threat was get entangled with the Scar Prophet. No big deal.

Owen, in a moment of clarity, seemed to realize how huge of an asshole he was being to the mother of his child. He set down his jar, stood, and walked over to Mel, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her into him, her back pressed against his front. He was swaying on his feet, his cheeks flushed, hands clumsy. If he hadn’t been drunk before, he definitely was now. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. We are going to Santa Barbara. Of course it’s we. Hell, the Scars can come too for all I care. We’ll make it a party.”

Abby rolled her eyes at his quick switch-up and turned to go. Clearly this conversation wasn’t going anywhere productive tonight, with Owen drunk, Mel upset, and all of them exhausted beyond belief.

There was a creak by the door, and all three of them turned to look, Owen’s reaction far more delayed than Abby and Mel’s.

You stood there in your long white dress, hesitant to come in. Shy, having clearly interrupted a tense conversation.

Abby wondered how long you’d been standing there unnoticed. Her instinct was to meet you in the doorway and take you back to bed, away from Owen’s rude drunkenness and Mel’s inquisitive eyes.

“Hey! Scar! How the hell are ya? Come join us! We were just talking about sunny California. Ever been?” Owen pulled away from Mel and plopped back down on the couch, finding his jar again.

“Umm…” You looked to Abby for guidance, but she was just as unsettled as you. “No. I haven’t… Sorry, I was just looking for Abby.”

“Yeah, I bet you were,” he mumbled under his breath. Abby wasn’t sure if you caught that, but she wasn’t interested in having you hear any more of this.

“Let’s just go,” she said to you, moving toward where you still stood in the doorway.

“No! Come! Sit! Let’s talk,” Owen insisted, slapping the spot next to him on the couch.

You gave Abby another hesitant look before walking past her to join Owen. Mel sighed and lowered herself into a nearby chair. When it became clear to her that retreating with you wasn’t an option right now, Abby walked back over. She stood right across from the couch so she could see you, leaned against the wall behind her with her arms crossed over her chest.

You sat next to Owen, although not so close, putting as much distance between you as possible.

“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Abby wanted to punch him.

All of this was out of character for Owen, but she knew that he was always kind of unpredictable when he got drunk. With everything that had happened and emotions running so high, everyone really should just be going to sleep.

With that in mind, Abby would continue to stand nearby until you were ready to leave. She wouldn’t let things get out of hand.

“So… Scar—”

“Seraphite,” Abby corrected him. He scoffed and took another swig.

You smiled softly at her, looking grateful.

“Scar,” he said again. “Can I perhaps interest you in some hooch? Made it myself.” He offered up the jar for you to take, tilting it towards you with unsteady hands.

“No,” Abby immediately answered on your behalf. “She does not want any of your hooch.”

“Well give the girl a chance to answer,” he slurred. “What? Your little girlfriend can’t speak for herself? She can’t make her own decisions?”

You glanced back and forth between him and her, reaching for the open jar of clear liquid, properly baited by his taunting words.

Abby tried to remember that Owen was her friend—her best friend—and that he wasn’t usually like this.

“What is… hooch?” you asked, staring down into the glass jar suspiciously.

“It’s moonshine,” Abby said. When that didn’t clear things up for you, she added, “Alcohol.”

“Like wine?” you asked, tentatively sniffing it.

Owen laughed. Abby nodded, “Kind of, but it’s much stronger. Seriously, you won’t like it.”

There was a flash of something that looked like defiance in your eyes, offense taken at the idea that you wouldn’t be able to handle something that others could.

You put the jar to your lips and tilted it back enough to take in a generous mouthful.

Abby watched as your eyes went wide and you struggled to swallow it. Honestly, she was impressed that you didn’t immediately spit it out. You managed to choke it down before breaking out in a harsh coughing fit.

Owen laughed, accepting the jar as you shoved it back into his hands. Your eyes watered as you tapped on your sternum, taking a second to regain the ability to speak.

“You made that?” you wheezed in disbelief.

“Yep!”

“On purpose?”

Abby laughed at that, leaning back against the wall again once she was convinced that you weren’t dying.

“Hey, that’s prime hooch! You should be thanking me right now.” Owen took his own swig of it, lounging back against the couch with his arm resting along the back.

“Thank you?” You squinted your eyes but tried to be polite.

“I was kidding, princess. You don’t have to thank me.”

Abby, again, resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

“So,” Owen began, “tell me. How is it that you’re a Scar… but you’re not scarred?” He chuckled to himself, as if he had made a joke.

Your eyes shot to meet Abby’s, clearly unprepared to answer that question.

“Not every Seraphite has facial scars,” you said, keeping things vague.

“Every Scar I’ve ever seen does.”

“You’ve seen me, haven’t you?” you shot back.

Abby let out a surprised laugh. Owen clenched his jaw.

“Every Scar has face scars. It’s like your defining thing. It’s why we call you Scars.” He was adamant, unyielding. And the playful mask was starting to slip back into anger. Abby could tell this wasn’t going to end well.

“Well I guess you don’t know as much about Seraphites as you thought you did.” You were frustrated now, pressing yourself further into the far end of the couch to put more distance between the two of you.

Owen opened his mouth with a rebuttal, but Abby jumped in. “Lay off, Owen.”

He threw his hands up in surrender, leaning back against the brown cushions. “Fine, fine. Whatever. Forgive me for having questions. Fuck me, I guess. I’ve just never seen a hot Scar befo—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Mel was on her feet. “Alright. That’s it. You’re done.” She had been sitting silently up until then, ready to intervene if things got out of hand, just as Abby had been. Apparently, Owen calling you hot was where she drew the line.

Abby was glad Mel was saying something. Because if things had gone much further, she really might’ve hit him.

“Get up,” Mel instructed firmly, standing over him. “You’re going to bed.” He let her take the jar out of his hands and, with much effort, pushed himself up off the couch and started walking toward the door. Mel was right behind him, hands hovering on either of his sides in case he lost his balance. He was grumbling under his breath the whole way, like a toddler whose bedtime was being enforced.

Abby watched them go.

Once they were out of sight, she looked down at you, only to find that you were already looking at her.

“Sorry,” she spat out. “About him. He’s not usually like that.”

You nodded, but you didn’t seem sure that you believed her.

“So you guys are… friends?”

Abby cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. We’ve known each other for years. Joined the WLF together. Me, Owen, Mel, and a few others.”

You considered this for a second before responding. “Where were you before?”

“Salt Lake City,” she said, looking down at her feet. “Utah.” Abby didn’t know if that would mean anything to you.

“Mel doesn’t seem to like you very much,” you said, observant, not trying to offend. Abby smiled, despite the meaning behind your words. You added, “And Owen doesn’t seem to like me.” You stated it like it was a fact, like it was neither good nor bad, just true.

“He’ll get over it. He’s just drunk.” Abby didn’t know if that was true, but she wanted to comfort you in that moment, not that you actually seemed to care all that much about Owen’s opinion of you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You were looking up at her, eyes wide and vulnerable.

Anything, Abby thought. Out loud, she said, “Sure.”

She pushed away from the wall and came to sit next to you on the couch, filling the spot where Owen had been.

“Why do you people keep calling me princess?” you asked. Abby laughed quietly under her breath, turning her body to face you.

“I don’t know. There’s something about you that’s very princess-like I guess.”

You made a face at her. She smiled wider.

“It’s not a bad thing. You just come across as soft. Delicate. I don’t know… Graceful.”

“I am not delicate,” you said, defensive.

“I know.”

“I’ve killed.”

“I saw.” Abby was being serious, although she did find the conversation amusing. “You’re very skilled with a knife.”

You nodded, satisfied with her response, and fully turned to face Abby. “And what does hot mean? Why did he call me hot?”

“Oh—” Abby stuttered, “Uh—He meant… He was saying that you’re very pretty.”

“Oh.” You considered this, eyes wandering away. “Earlier he said I look like The Lord of the Rings.”

Abby smiled again. There was something about you that felt like it might’ve been taken straight from the high fantasy genre.

“Do you know what that is?” she asked.

“Yes. Sort of. I asked Mel. She said it was a film about a magical land. With fairies and stuff.”

“They were books first.”

“Have you read them?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you read a lot of books?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I try to read as much as I can. Whatever’s available.”

You nodded, thinking, letting the conversation die down.

After a moment, “Abby?”

“Hmm?” she hummed. She liked the way you said her name. Just the sound of it made her heart beat a little bit faster.

“Owen also called me your girlfriend.” You were studying her face, trying to read her reaction.

“Yeah. He did.” Abby said, looking into your inquisitive eyes.

“Does that just mean friend? Or is it something else?”

“He was just trying to piss me off.”

“So it does mean something else?” Your eyes were on her lips now, and you were ever so slightly leaned forward. Almost subconsciously.

“It doesn’t matter,” Abby said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

She was pushing you away, and she didn’t know why. She could’ve answered that question so differently. Maybe she should’ve.

Abby wanted you. And she was almost certain that you felt the same way. At the very least, there was a curiosity. A hesitant attraction.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong. That anything with you would be something she wasn’t good enough for.

Something she didn’t deserve.

Something she would ruin if given the chance.

So tonight, she didn’t give herself that chance.

Was that noble or cowardly? She wasn’t sure.

You pulled away, turning to face forward as you let out a long breath, puffing out your cheeks.

“I’m tired,” you said, standing. “And I should check on Yara and Lev.”

“Yeah.” Abby nodded. “Okay.”

She remained in place, ready to mentally beat herself up some more and stew in her thoughts alone for a while.

You cleared your throat lightly, swaying on your feet. “Umm… I’m not sure that I can find my way back to the room. Can you… please—?”

“Oh.” Abby hopped to her feet. “Okay, yeah. I’ll… I guess I’ll go with you.”

She avoided eye contact, leading the way into the dark hallway.

[sinsdaycorp]

Here’s a Drabble for the Selena X Morgan fandom.

Scrawled out between customers at work.

Beta? I tried.

Fluff. Family time. And the kids refusing to share their Mama ‘Lena with Morgan.

The days that Morgan doesn’t have to work and Selena does? Those days suck. The family spends the whole day waiting for Mama Lena to come home for cuddles and family time.

Morgan put her phone down after confirming Selena’s location for was moving from the station towards the house.

She looked up with a smile as Ava came down the hallway, ready for bed, but wanting to say goodnight to both her mothers first.

“Elliot is reading while he waits,” Ava let Morgan know as she snuggled into the elder blondes side, pulling Morgan’s arm over her shoulder.

“Chloe still asleep?” Morgan asked, rubbing Ava’s arm lightly.

She felt her daughter nod and pressed a kiss to the top of Ava’s head. “Thank you for your help today, I appreciate you.”

Ava lifted her head, smiling up at her mother. “Of course, mum. It’s literally my job to be a good sister and daughter. I’m just trying to do my best.”

Morgan’s eyes watered. “Ava, you don’t have to try to do your best. You are an amazing daughter, and sister. You’re beautiful, inside and out. I’m so proud to call you my daughter.”

Ava sniffled and clung tighter to Morgan, arms tightening as much as possible before she released into a looser hold.

Morgan opened her mouth to speak when headlights lit up the room.

The blondes looked towards the front door as they heard Selena’s car shut off in the driveway.

Ava pushed her mother away quickly, jumping up and launching over the back of the couch in excitement.

“Mama Lena!” She called out as she opened the door before the woman could get close enough. She leapt out the doorway, wrapping her arms around Selena.

“Good evening, Darling One,” Selena said softly, pressing a kiss to the side of Ava’s head as she wrapped her arms around the teen. “How was your day?”

“Was good, Mama,” she said, pulling from the hug and grabbing Selena’s bag and coat from her, taking them inside so Selena’s arms were free.

Ava quickly stepped out of the way as Morgan and Selena gravitated to each other so easily.

Morgan rested her chin on the top of Selena’s head as she embraced the shorter woman.

“Angel, I’m home,” Selena sighed happily from where she’d buried her face into the crook of Morgan’s neck.

Morgan chuckled, dipping her head to kiss the top of Selena’s head before she tucked a hand between them and lifted Selena’s chin, their eyes meeting and calming loving smiles were on their lips.

“Welcome home,” Morgan murmured before leaning down to kiss the other woman.

Ava childishly gagged despite the grin.

“Elliot, Mama’s home.” She called up the hallway to her brother.

The sound of a book thumping and the boys speedy footsteps gave the couple enough time for another quick kiss in greeting before Morgan was forced away as Elliot barreled into Selena’s side for a hug.

The brunette laughed, settling her arms around the boys shoulders.

“What’s the story tonight?” Selena asked him, happily pulled into conversation as he led her through to the kitchen.

As the kids spoke Selena about their day, Morgan reheated the meal she’d set aside for Selena and poured her a glass of wine.

As soon as the meal was set in front of Selena, the glass beside it, Morgan stood behind the woman, rubbing her shoulders and neck while she ate.

There was a lull in the conversation as Selena finished her meal.

Morgan bent down to kiss her head, taking the empty plate. “Would you like something else?”

Selena shook her head, eyes drifting to the siblings as they yawned in unison.

Selena chuckled as she took a sip of her wine, her heart filled with nothing but love for the family that had claimed her as one of them. She didn’t mind one bit.

Morgan returned to Selena’s shoulders, fingers kneading gently into the tense muscles.

Morgan’s phone chimed from the couch, and she glanced in its direction before she looked down at Selena.

“Come on, let’s go relax and put your feet up. It’s been a long day.”

Selena nodded, finishing off the wine and standing. Morgan took the glass, a brow raising in silent question as to if she wanted another.

The brunette shook her head and allowed the kids to drag her to the living room.

“Mama, can you read over my assignment?” Elliot asked, a hopeful look in his eye. “It’s due on Friday, but I wanted to hand it in tomorrow.”

“Of course, have you printed it off?”

He nodded and scampered off to his room to retrieve the homework.

“How about you?” Selena asked Ava as they settled on the couch, her arm slipping over the teens shoulders.

“Handed my final assignment in today. Nothing but exams now.” Ava sighed.

Morgan settled on the other side of Selena as Elliot came back down the hall, squishing between Selena and Morgan.

Morgan only huffed and shifted further down the seat while Elliot handed Selena his assignment.

“Why my favourite person, is my mother’s girlfriend,” Selena read the title aloud and already had tears in her eyes as she looked at the boy. “Do you want me to read it now?” She asked him.

Shaking his head, Elliot smiled. “No, later is fine.”

Pressing another kiss to the tip of his head, Selena smiled. “Can’t wait. Thank you, Elliot.”

He gave her another quick squeeze, turned to his mother and hugged her quickly too. “Goodnight, guys.”

“Night, Elliot,” Morgan said softly, kissing his cheek. “Sleep well.”

“Night, Sweets,” Selena said, ruffling his hair.

The adults looked at Ava after the boy went to his room.

Ava pouted from where she was pressed to Selena’s side. “Five more minutes?” She asked.

Selena smiled and nodded as Morgan rolled her eyes, dramatically sighing.

“Fine.” She groaned out, not at all annoyed or upset.

Ava used the cover of a hug with Selena to stick her middle finger up at the blonde playfully.

Morgan shot one straight back at her and grinned as Ava gasped and dobbed her in to Selena.

“Mama, she gave me the rude finger,” Ava sang-songed.

Selena turned her attention to Morgan who only shrugged. “It’s my house, and I’m an adult. I can do what I want.”

Selena rolled her eyes at the two’s constant playful teasing of each other and patted Ava’s shoulder gently. “Don’t worry, Darling. I’ll deal with her later.”

Ava stuck her tongue out at Morgan.

Morgan pointed to the hallway. “Go on, you’ve had your five minutes. I want my lady back.”

Ava whined, looking up at Selena for help.

Selena only pressed a kiss between her brows and hugged her tight. “Go on, big day of exams tomorrow. Get some sleep, Ava. I’ll be here in the morning, I don’t have to go in to do extra paperwork early.”

Ava huffed and stood, bidding them goodnight before sulking exaggeratedly up the hallway.

The second Morgan heard the bedroom door click closed, she pulled Selena in to a hug, laying them out across the length of the couch.

“I missed you,” Morgan sighed, relaxing into the cushions when Selena settled into a comfortable position, laying on top of the blonde.

Selena rested her chin on Morgan’s chest, looking at the blonde while she spoke.

“I missed you too, Angel,” Selena leaned up, pecking Morgan’s lips.

Morgan smiled, resting one hand beneath her head and the other settled in the dip on Selena’s lower back, tracing little patterns with her fingertips across the constellations of freckles along the brunettes spine.

Selena shivered a little at the tickling featherlight touch and playfully frowned.

“Be serious,” Morgan said, frowning back at her.

Their frowns deepened before Selena broke first, her lips quirking up into a smile and she dropped her face to hide in Morgan’s neck, laughing.

Selena always felt like a teenager in love when she was with Morgan. She was treated so gently and loved so fiercely by the blondes family that she feared daily that she was going to get cast aside for a younger model.

“Stop thinking,” Morgan murmured tiredly.

“I can’t help it,” Selena said, sitting up, straddling the blondes thighs. “One of these days-“

“Babe, ‘Lena, my sweet sweet love,” Morgan sat up, kissing her repeatedly on the lips in quick succession. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, but I’m All In. You are not going to be replaced, there’s no one that could even come close to even replacing a quarter of the love I feel for you. I want to spend the rest of days making you smile, and laugh, and keep you happy.”

Tears dribbled down Selena’s cheeks and she fell forwards, kissing Morgan again. “I just don’t want you to wake up one day and realise that I’m not who you really want.”

“Selena, from the second I met you, every cell in my body has craved you in my arms. I told you the day you finally agreed to let me take you out, I’m not interested in anyone else. I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I want you with me, I want you for all your good days and your bad ones. I want to be the one you come to when you just need a shoulder to lean on, or cry on. I want to be the one you think of when you have a desperate need to tell someone something.”

“You already are that person, Morgan. You’re the one I look for as soon as I lift my head from whatever’s taken my attention. You’re the one I want to fall asleep and wake up beside.”

Chloe’s cry echoed down the hall and Morgan kissed Selena’s forehead, carefully lifting her off the blondes lap and to the couch before she stood.

“You should start on Elliot’s assignment while I’m gone, it’s a good read.”

Selena leaned forward and grabbed the homework while Morgan went up the hall to tend to the youngest.

Why my favourite person, is my mother’s girlfriend.

My mother’s girlfriend is a lieutenant, she’s smart, and strong and brave.

Selena sucked in a breath, sniffling a little.

When we met Mama ‘Lena, our lives changed for the better. My mum says it’s because Mama ‘Lena is a ray of sunshine and a breath of fresh air combined.

I think, Mama ‘Lena is like those things my mum described. But she’s also kindness and warmth. She’s funny, and caring.

I chose Mama ‘Lena as my favourite person, because our family is a lot happier with her in it. She is that breath of fresh air and warm sun. She is also so much more than that.

Selena sniffled as she dabbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, placing the homework back on the table.

“Short and sweet?” Morgan asked in a whisper as she came back into the living room.

Selena nodded, looking up at the blonde, eyes red from tears. “Can we go lay down?” She asked.

Morgan smiled, holding a hand out. “Come on.”

They walked down to Morgan’s room, hand in hand.

“I cried too,” Morgan admitted as they parted ways to change into their sleep clothes. “I wasn’t expecting him to choose you, I thought he’d pick a superhero or something.”

Selena smirked. “You don’t think I’m a super hero?”

Morgan huffed a laugh. “Baby, you’re my super hero.” She pulled the blankets down, slipping into the bed and waited for Selena to join her.

The brunette dipped into the bathroom for a quick face and teeth clean before she was back in the room, curling up with Morgan spooning her from behind, a twin sigh leaving their lips as they relaxed into each other.

“My kids love you, Selena. I love you.” Morgan dipped her head to kiss Selena’s shoulder through the shirt. “We are a lot happier with you in our lives. You are important to us, and we will crash and burn without you.”

“You’ve been doing well for sixteen years, Angel,” Selena said, rubbing a hand along Morgan’s arm that was over her waist.

“Nope, can’t do it. We’ll die without you.”

Rolling her eyes, Selena turned in the blondes arms. “I think you won’t.”

“I know everything, I think we will. We’ll never survive.”

“Mm, I highly doubt that. But you won’t have to find out, cause you’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, thank the gods!” Morgan praised. “Cause I for real, will not survive without you. My heart will break, my body will give up on me. You’re my oxygen. I need you to keep going.”

Selena cupped Morgan’s cheek, kissing her. “It’d be pretty hard to live without you, too.”

“So it’s settled, then. You’re not leaving, I’m not leaving… we’re stuck.”

“Hm, how horrible,” Selena muttered sarcastically before pulling Morgan into another kiss.

[nikosama13]

Captain's Orders! (New! Law x Reader)

Description: After attacking and cleaning out a marine ship you and the Heart Pirates stumbled across some good old fashion booze. But when Law by accidentally swapped his cup for yours things got a little out of hand..

Side Notes: Hello loves! This was lowkey rushed but I did my greatest! (My requests should be open + probably spelling mistakes) (づ￣ ³￣)づ

-Shanks Version Here-

Enjoy the read! <3

Consider following..?

~~~

It was a lively night on the Polar Tang, the Heart Pirates were celebrating after attacking and clearing out a whole marine ship. You guys came across all kinds of supplies which you all of course took back with you to the ship. But one of the most important things you found was barrels and barrels of booze. Now, nor you or the rest of the crew drank to a great extent, however it was nice to let loose once in a while and today seemed like a great day to do just that. Law sat in the corner of the dining room reading away, struggling to focus on his new book. (Which he also probably stole from the marine’s ship) You and Heart pirates ignored his scrunched up and scowling face, continuing your loud dancing and games. Eventually, Law stood up to go get a glass of water and grabbed your cup instead. After he had inhaled the whole glass it hit him.. He basically just swallowed a load of booze. He wasn’t really bothered about what had just happened, however he knew that his booze tolerance wasn’t really that strong at all… So he sat back down and continued reading his book.. Forgetting the whole situation. You on the other hand.. didn’t notice that your drink was missing. The booze had already hit you hard and you thought that you just never refilled the cup. By the end of the night you were all worn out and plopped on your bed, wasted. But soon after, somebody interrupted your peace of mind.. Law just walked straight into your room, bold and without a care in the world. “Oi, y/n-ya you made a mess in the dining room, go clean it up, now.” He said, his voice had a hint of drunkness to it.

Not like your voice was any better.. “Ugh.. no, not right now.. leave.” you suggled further into your pillow, ignoring the captain's orders. Well that was.. until you felt two hands creep up on your waist. The next thing you knew was you were being picked up, swung over Law’s shoulder. You smacked his back with your hands and kicked your feet up and down. “Lawww!” you groaned, dizzy and unhappy. “Fine, I'll take you somewhere better..” his pace picked up and walked quicker to this ‘Better place’, all while carrying you. You were confused by the random change of heart. He was usually more strict about things, especially cleaning up.. But you weren’t complaining if he was going to get you out of it. The next thing you saw was the door frame of some room and the door shutting behind you two. After he gently placed you down on something soft like a bed.. When your vision unblurred you realized where you were. Law’s Room.. You gasped and sat straight up. “L-law what the hell are we doing here!?” you felt your cheeks burning up. “Well you didn’t wanna clean..” he walked closer to you.. “I-..” you were speechless and frozen. “Why so stiff darling..?” he mischievously smiled at you. Eventually your lips crashed together before you could do anything and in that moment you decided that maybe this situation wasn’t so bad after all.. Maybe this was a blessing to have Law act like this.. But out of all the people.. Law? You were just so shocked why he acted like this.. 

His lips slowly and gently pressed on your own. He wasn't rushing it, and took his time in trying not to hurt you in any way.

Law continued the kiss softly and slowly, gently moving his lips across your own before slowly picking up the pace. His arms slowly wrapped themselves around your back and pulled you even closer to him.

Let’s just say you two would have a long talk in the morning..

~~~

The End~

Thank you for reading! &lt;3

Consider following..?

[repulsiveliquidation]

don't wander

Caretaker! Leah Williamson x Little! Reader

whipped up a little (hehe) something for those who wanted more little! action

“Good morning sunshine.”

“Mama!”

Leah peeked her head into the bedroom with a tray of breakfast. There you sat with your back against the headboard with a huge smile on your face. She sets the tray to the side and climbs into bed with you, pulling you into her arms.

“Did you sleep well, pea?”

“Yeth Mama.”

“That’s good baby. Want some breakfast?”

You nod enthusiastically, Leah leans over and grabs the tray with your Froot Loops (a/n it’s the best cereal, fight me) and orange juice. She insists on feeding you, grinning proudly when you finish your breakfast. You were just coming out of a cold, knocked out by a bad fever for two days and were finally on the mend. Leah planned to bring you to training today, there were no important games this week and she was back on the pitch for training once a week now so she could keep an eye on you while you were there. The rest of the girls would happily keep you entertained if Leah couldn’t you’d been missing your favorite Aunty Katie (don’t tell Aunty Lessi.) and had been begging Leah to let her visit. Since you’d been sick, she didn’t want to risk the girls catching it so no one had been over to visit in a week.

You pounced out of bed and ran to the bathroom, jumping up and down excitedly to get started on your day. Leah gave you a nice warm bath and did your hair real pretty (at least she tried to) and before you knew it you were buckled up in her car and on the way to the training ground.

“Can you hold my hand please?” Leah asks as you walk into the grounds. There were cars around, she didn’t want you running off. You hold her hand tight, bouncing off the walls with excitement. Maybe the cereal for breakfast wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“Y/N/N!” yelled Alessia when she saw you both walk into the changing room. You let go of Leah’s hand, running into Alessia’s arms. She was warm.

“Oh, I’ve missed you baby. Is your cold all better?”

“Yeth! Mama let me have owange juth today too! Owange juth is my favowite.”

“Oh such a healthy girl you are!”

“Do I hear me favorite little monkey in there?”

“AUNTY KATIE!” you yell, squirming out of Alessia’s and barreling towards your favorite Irish gal.

“Inside voice, my love!”

“Sowwy Mama, hewwo Aunty Katie!”

“Come ‘ere darlin’. Give me a good hug, I’ve missed ya!”

Alessia lets you go and you hightail it into Katie’s arms. She picks you up easily and spins you around, the whole room grinning when you giggle happily. Alessia pulls you to her cubby and fixes your hair, pulling it back into a nice ponytail and braiding the end.

Leah is already changed by the time you’ve said hi to all the girls and had your hair done, happily taking Lia’s hand as you walked out to the pitch with everyone.

You’re sat with Beth and Viv, they kept you busy with a coloring book you brought along with you. They were resting for the day, Jonas not wanting them to stress themselves before big matches in the following weeks. Viv looked over your shoulder as you colored, Beth softly brushing your fly-aways out of your face.

“That’s not inside the lines, lieveling.”

“Is to.” you insist with a lisp.

“Is not.”

“Viv, leave her be. Your coloring is wonderful, darling. Good job.” Beth scolded and praised, Viv giving her a pointed look.

About an hour in, Leah came over and pulled your boots out of your bag and smiled.

“Ready for some football, baby?”

She helps you pull your boots on, tying them nice and tight. Lotte and Lessi help you stretch and warm up, you were giggling loudly when they started a game of tag with you. 

“I’m gonna get you, little bit!” Lotte yells, running after you with Lessi close behind.

“No get me!” you yelled back, barely missing Alessia’s grip. You suddenly crash into a wall and land on your bum. You look up in shock, Lotte and Alessia coming up behind you and pulling you up. They dust you off and smile sheepishly, the wall you ran into apparently scared them.

“What did I say about running off hm?” Leah asked you, pulling off some grass that got stuck in your hair.

“No run wifout Mama.”

“You could have gotten hurt, pea. Don’t do that again, please?”

“I sowwy Mama, peas don’t be mad,” you say quietly, looking at your pretty boots Leah had custom made. They had unicorns on them; they were shiny too!

She tilts your chin up, smiling softly before leaning in to kiss your nose.

“I’m not mad, peanut. Thank you for apologizing. Now, Mama thinks that Aunty Katie wants to shoot some goals with you,” she tells you, standing behind you and pointing towards Katie, who was talking to Manu when she looked over and waved at you. You waved back, running towards her. She stands up straight and shakes her head, walking over to the side to have a little water and watch you shoot some pretty goals with your pretty shoes.

//

It was finally lunch time and you were STARVING. Lotte was holding your hand and walking with you to the cafeteria, Leah following behind her with your backpack and boots. You stood in line like a good girl, asking politely for what foods you wanted on your plate as Alessia plated it for you. She sat you down with your full plate, a glass of orange juice suddenly appearing beside it. Katie kissed the top of your head and walked off to get herself some food just as Leah came and sat beside you.

“Did you say thank you to everyone that helped you bubba?”

You nod hard, chest puffing out proudly for remembering your manners. Leah leans in and kisses your temple, handing you a fork.

“I want you to try and eat everything on your plate before you get more okay?”

“Yeth Mama!” you answer, immediately digging into your diverse plate. You had grilled chicken in tomato sauce with two pieces of garlic bread, mushroom quiche and a side caesar salad. Big you loved food unlike Leah “Plain Chicken Burger from Nandos” Williamson so your plate always had something flavorful and new on it. Lotte sat beside you with a similar plate, digging in with a big smile on her face. She looked at you and frowned, noticing that you were struggling to cut your chicken into smaller pieces. She silently pulled your plate towards hers and began to cut up your chicken and the rest of your food into more manageable pieces. You leaned your head on her arm in thanks, she merely kissed your cheek and whispered, “Eat up, little bit,” before going back to her own plate. Leah and the table watched fondly, hearts swelling at the sweet scene before them.

//

Leah didn’t want you running around too quickly after eating so you sat in the gym and watched the girls workout. Lia and Manu were on some spinny thing that looked a lot like your bicycle at home while Katie and Stina were using the poor, single monkey bar. Mama was on a bench, she was lifting something that looked really heavy. In all honestly, little you did not find anything interesting. No one was paying attention to you! Not even with your special shoes on. You decided then and there that you were a big girl now and wanted to explore yourself. That’s what big girls do, right?

You slipped out of the room quietly, amazed by all the pictures of Mama and all your aunties. They were so big, all taller than you! You were pretty sure they weren’t that tall when you were with them, maybe the print man got it wrong but didn’t want him to feel bad so they put the pictures up anyway.

There were so many rooms here, there was big Arsenal signs everywhere too! You kept walking around and looking at all the nice rooms and nice things, even stopping to say hi to a cat that you saw outside. His name was Pebbles, he said. He liked his ears rubbed.

Back in the gym, everyone was working out diligently when Lia noticed your bag was where you were supposed to be. Leah, now on the lonely monkey bar, was just about to pull herself up when she heard Lia calling your name.

“Y/N? Where are you, Schatz?”

Everyone around her stopped what they were doing and looked around but didn’t see you. They started to get worried, Leah immediately walking over.

“Where did she go? Did someone take her to the loo?” Leah asked, checking to see if anyone else was missing.

“No, we’re all here. Y/N/N! Where are you?” Viv called, checking the back rooms. Beth called out for you as she and some of the girls split up to look for you on the pitch. Everyone else began to comb the stadium while Leah checked her car with Viv.

“Y/N!”

“Pea, where are you?”

“Little bit, this isn’t hide and seek. Please come out from where you’re hiding!”

“Kleintje! Please, we’re worried about you!”

You could hear faint screams of your name on the pitch, so you ran out to it. You knew the way, Mama taught you so if you ever got lost, you could find someone on the pitch.

When you saw Aunty Lessi, you ran straight to her. She picked you up and spun you around like a ballerina, hugging you really tight.

“Why eweryone calling Y/N/N? Me wight here,” you ask innocently, looking down at your kneeling Aunty Lessi, Lotte and Katie.

“Where did you go, young lady? We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Just as Katie asked you, Beth and the rest of the team joined you all on the pitch. Leah ran frantically towards you, pulling you tight into her arms like Alessia did.

“Fuckin’ hell Y/N, thank goodness you’re safe. We were so worried! Where on earth did you disappear to?!”

“Went walk. Got bored. No one play wif me,” you pouted and crossed your arms, huffing at the girls.

“I don’t think so, little girl. If you want to go play somewhere, you tell one of us and we’ll be more than happy to take you. I am very disappointed in you, young lady. I want you to apologize and thank everyone for looking for you. Especially Aunty Lia, she noticed you were gone first.”

You made your way around the big Arsenal circle, thanking everyone with a kiss on their cheek. You did Aunty Lia last, giving her the biggest kiss on the cheek that you had saved for her.

“Thank you, liebling.”

Leah pulled you in for a hug, rubbing your back softly as you mumbled an apology in her neck.

“I know darling, thank you for apologizing. How about we call it a day, hm?”

You nod, the wear of the day and your little adventure catching up to you. Leah carried you back into the gym and grabbed her stuff, quietly thanking the girls herself for taking care of you for the day with her.

//

Finally back home, Leah had to carry you into the house after you had fallen asleep in the car. She gently placed you on the bed, smiling softly when you snuggled into it intuitively. She decided to take a quick shower before anything else, leaving you on the bed alone to take a quick little power nap.

She stepped out of the shower only to hear crying, rushing out of the bathroom to find you sniffling into your sweater Viv had pulled onto you.

“What’s wrong, bubba?”

“Had a bad dweam.”

“Oh pea, what was it about?”

“Mama got mad at Y/N. Weave Y/N/N all ‘wone.”

“I wouldn’t do that, peanut. I love you too much to leave you all alone.”

“Mama pwomise?”

“I promise, baby girl. I love you.”

“Wuv you too, Mama.”

You hugged her soft, cuddly, towel-wrapped body, tucking your face in her neck and taking a big whiff of her clean scent; the smell of vanilla clouding your senses. She kissed the top of your head, wiping away the stray tears that fell.

“How about we order some pizza and cuddle in bed?”

You nod, grinning happily. Leah sighs softly, brushing the hair out of your face. You were a right handful when you were little but seeing that big, toothy grin on your face made it all worth it.

[concidineart]

@fwhimmy-week Ficlet below the read more and ao3 link above!

PROMPT: Angel/Devil

fWhip and Jimmy have an angel to devil sort of situationship. In both directions.

Knelt in the sandy furrows of his wheat field, Jimmy poured bonemeal through his fingers as the sun beat down on his back. He forgot why he’d brought it out. He’d needed some wheat, but not so much it made sense to bonemeal the field.

“A sample! A sample from the goblin empire.” 

The little goblin man gave Jimmy a whole stack of bonemeal. He’d tried to turn down whatever dusty rag of leftovers he’d expected, only to be handed a proper stack. It wasn’t the help Jimmy asked for, but it wasn’t an amount to scoff at. Apparently, goblins were generous.

“I like the goblin empire. Can we be friends? I like that.” Jimmy strode to catch up with fWhip, who hadn’t paused after handing off the gift.

Now fWhip stumbled, glancing at Jimmy with wide blue eyes. His green skin flushed a deeper shade as Jimmy flashed a smile and his voice pitched up as he stuttered, “Uh-yuh-yuep big time re-respecting the law over here.” He cleared his throat, turning away. “You know what they say in the goblin empire. We love to make sure the Sheriff’s happy.”

Jimmy sidled up closer and leaned down, “You’re making sure the big man’s happy, huh?”

fWhip’s face was a vivid jungle green now, freckles disappeared into the color. “Oh yea, yeah yeah. We don’t wanna be crossing paths with you. No no no.”

Jimmy wasn’t oblivious. He just didn’t put much stock in crushes. So he stopped flirting and hashed out a rough alliance between Gobland and Tumble Town, and showed fWhip to the alliance board.

“We respect the sheriff!” fWhip declared for Gobland.

Jimmy handed fWhip a copy of the law book. “We respect the sheriff and the law. They go one and one.” 

fWhip nodded with a thoughtful expression as he said, “The law. The sheriff makes the law, so we respect them both.”

fWhip took the alliance seriously. He delivered barrels of needed stone and pork without Jimmy needing to ask. And whatever project Jimmy was working on, eventually fWhip would show up to add his two cents. Jimmy could almost set a clock by fWhip’s visits. fWhip wasn’t subtle about what he wanted: to be deputy, to… have Jimmy's attention, respect. Maybe something more.

And Jimmy wanted to give that to him. It was dangerous, letting compliments and gifts flatter the Sheriff. But this was exactly what Jimmy wanted . A partner he could always rely on to have his back. Respect and adoration all rolled up in a small goblin-shaped package.

Jimmy rubbed the bonemeal between his fingertips.

He fired fWhip last week. He left a notice on his door, which Jimmy felt a little bad about. Breaking up through a letter was harsh. But fWhip. Left. A. Warden . In. his. Base. He deserved it. 

Sighing, Jimmy stood up and dusted his hands on his jeans. He gathered up the wheat, tied it together, walked up his porch steps, and stopped short. A book was nailed to his door.

Jimmy pried the nail out with one hand and flipped open the book. Dear Sheriff. First, you cannot fire me. Jimmy closed the book. Oh man. Closing the door behind him, Jimmy read through the rest of the book. 

It was nonsense. Accusing Jimmy of not having self respect? Self respect was why he fired fWhip. Jimmy had been stepped on too many times to let it fly. Who would respect him if he gave fWhip special treatment? No one.

Jimmy grabbed a clean piece of paper.

fWhip was just really bitter. Like really bitter. About being fired. And Jimmy had good reason to fire him. He killed him. Multiple times! ‘A gift’. fWhip could just get over how he was feeling. Bitter man.

Those furious thoughts propelled Jimmy all the way to Gobland and he pounded on fWhip’s door. No answer. No problem. Jimmy fished out the spare key fWhip gave him and stepped in. 

A quick nosy revealed that fWhip really was out. It also revealed contraband. Tucked in the back room, one of Joel’s plush Sheriffs mocked Jimmy. Of course. Jimmy knew he shouldn’t have trusted him. ---

fWhip closed his door and locked it. It was looking at that lock, realizing he’d have to change it, that broke him. An ugly wet snuffle coated his throat with mucus. He rolled over a barrel and wedged it under the door handle, then collapsed against it. He pulled out his deputy badge. Its metal shone differently from the toy replicas he’d made, realer. He ran his clawtips over its smooth surface. Tink tink tink .

“Our fearless leader!” fWhip cheered as he spotted Jimmy waiting on his porch months ago.

Jimmy’s face brightened. “Oh, there he is! There’s our little guy!”

“Hi!” fWhip said breathlessly. “It's good to see you. How’re you doing?”

“I’m good. I’m good. I got your message, fWhip. And I got something for you now.” Jimmy was trying to look solemn, but a sneaky smile twitched at the corner of his lips, giving him away.

fWhip stood up on his tip-toes and lifted his ears in anticipation. “Yes.”

“You said you wanted to be deputy number two.”

“Yup. I can be deputy number two. I got you.”

Jimmy pulled out a small flat piece of gold from his breast pocket and fWhip let out a soft gasp. “Is that?”

Jimmy held it out for fWhip. “Here’s your badge.”

fWhip grabbed it with both hands and traced its shield-like shape. “It’s a deputy badge!” It was real . The gold was of good quality. From the mesa? The idea of Jimmy personally mining the gold for this badge made fWhip’s face heat.

Jimmy grinned. “You are hired.”

“Oh, yes yes yes. Speaking of which.” This was perfect. Perfect timing! Jimmy was perfect. fWhip grabbed Jimmy’s hand, dizzy with excitement. “Speaking of which, I have something to show you. Follow me this way, please.”

Jimmy nodded, probably thinking he was going to tell him about his arrest. Which he was, but that wasn’t the surprise. The surprise was along the cavern wall with a view of Gobland’s entirety.

fWhip let go of Jimmy’s hand to scamper ahead and gesture theatrically to the house. “For you!”

Jimmy blinked. “Wait. ‘The Sheriff’s Home Away from Home’.” His mouth fell open and he looked down at fWhip. “No way!”

fWhip laughed and gave Jimmy the tour. Maybe Jimmy would visit more often!

Jimmy fired him. Jimmy tried to fire him. When fWhip said no, Jimmy rescinded their alliance. So he wasn’t expecting to find Jimmy loitering by the Gobland storage building.

“What are you doing here?”

Jimmy gave an incredulous look at the squeaky toy badge fWhip was fidgeting with. “What is that? My badge isn’t a toy .”

fWhip shrugged evasively. “The badge squeaks, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Jimmy rolled his shoulders back and shot fWhip a dirty look. “Give me the badge, fWhip. I’m here for the badge. That’s all I’m here for.”

Of course. Because if you messed up, Jimmy dropped you. Because Jimmy cared more about things (hats, badges, his personal brand of respect) more than he cared about even himself, let alone fWhip.

“Nope.” fWhip took a few quick steps back into the storage building. The lower ceiling felt safer for some reason. “Why?”

“fWhip. I need the badge.”

fWhip shook his head and clutched the fake badge closer to his chest. “We’ve been over this. We’ve been over this! The badge is mine! You gave it to me!”

“Are you sure you want this heat?”

fWhip noted his bonk stick’s place in his inventory, but obtusely misinterpreted the threat. Why couldn't Jimmy drop it!? “There’s lava… so yes, the cave is pretty warm?”

“Are you sure you want to play volleyball with your big abs?” Jimmy wasn’t even looking at fWhip now. He was looking around the cavern and dragging out his words.

fWhip uncurled, reached a baffled hand toward Jimmy. “Are you gesturing for something? Are you… so what’s the plan here?”

Jimmy ignored him. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the cavern. “I said: Do you want to play-”

“Hotguy!”

A blur and sharp stab of pain caught fWhip off guard. He was dropped to his knees as heat erupted in his side, a flame arrow cracking into pieces in a seam of his netherite.

fWhip pulled out his bonk stick, its heavy weight steadied him, and scrambled deeper into the storage building as Scar peppered the chests with arrows. “Really? Just like that?!”

“Get him! Get him!” Jimmy called.

It wasn’t a bad plan. But fWhip was well armored and knew this cavern better than either of them. Gobland protected its own. For an assassination attempt, fWhip got out with minimal harm. Physically anyway.

Shivering against a barrel in his house after the fact, covered in snot, fWhip could admit the betrayal hurt. Yeah Jimmy was mad at him. Didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. But to try to kill him? fWhip’s fingers curled, remembering the feeling of his bonk stick cracking into the Sheriff’s skull. Jimmy just wouldn’t give up. He wasn’t going to leave until fWhip made him. 

Scar left behind half of Jimmy’s stuff, Sheriff hat and badge included. fWhip returned the hat. Eventually.

The badge… well. Jimmy wasn’t in his right mind right now (He had to be. He couldn’t mean it. fWhip couldn’t take that.). So when he could prove he was the just sheriff he claimed to be, he could have it back. But until then, the badge could sit in fWhip’s Cave of the Law. ---

fWhip didn’t see the Empires Christmas Village until Jimmy, Oli, Sausage and the others had built it up. A winter wonderland: tinsel and stars, the smell of pine and gingerbread, complete with festivities of all kinds judging by the drunken carolers. fWhip took a suite in Scarland, preferring the sunny weather and ready-made infrastructure of the park.

The Rift affected some emperors more than others. Jimmy was regular sized again. Average human height instead of goblin toy sized. 

fWhip was human. 

Worse, his memories were a shifting smear. He recognized people. If reminded of certain events, he might recall them. They told him he was a goblin. He doubted them at first. But day by day in Hermitcraft, his memories settled back in and the gaps in his memory became increasingly more frustrating. He was a goblin. He was here looking for someone, not on vacation. He hadn’t figured out who he was looking for though.

Jimmy, face flushed with ‘festive’ drink, waved at fWhip and stumbled down the ice-packed stairs. “fWhip! I’ve missed you buddy!”

The two of them made a truce. They wanted the hermits to stay. They failed. Whether that meant the truce was over was a bit up in the air.

Jimmy slung his arm across fWhip’s shoulder. “Woah, you’re tall. That’s weird. Look at the river we made!”

Jimmy, Oli, and Sausage led fWhip through a narrow frozen tunnel crammed with candy canes and boughs of holly. fWhip complained the ceilings were too low and Jimmy laughed so hard he hit his own head on a candy cane, setting off Oli and Sausage.

Other emperors arrived and they all crowded around the fire pit while Oli hammered out holiday tunes. fWhip wasn’t dressed for the chilly weather and bundled a blanket stolen from Sausage’s bed around his shoulders. Jimmy collapsed next to fWhip and leaned his head against his shoulder. fWhip stiffened.

“This place is great. Just great.” Jimmy mumbled.

“You don’t miss the Sheriff hat?” fWhip regretted the question the moment he said it. Why couldn’t he let a good thing be?

Jimmy was quiet for long enough, fWhip figured he’d fallen asleep. Then Jimmy asked, “Do you miss being a goblin king?”

What kind of question was that?  “I’m not a king.”

“Sorry, right, you don’t remember.” Jimmy sat up and fWhip missed his warmth. “We were friends though. Sort of. Then you changed and…”

“Changed?” What was Jimmy talking about? Jimmy turned on him . 

“Not, like, the human thing. That’s been nice actually. I can forget it's you with that face. I meant, we weren’t friends anymore. No respect.” Jimmy sniffed and downed the last of his drink.

Sniff. That’s who fWhip was here for. Gary and Sniff. The exploration team from Animalia and Gobland. fWhip stood up, letting the blanket fall to the ground.

“You could be my friend though. If you wanted. We can keep the hat out of it.” Jimmy grabbed fWhip’s wrist.

It was a nice thought. But fWhip didn’t believe for a moment that Jimmy could follow through on that. Not anymore than fWhip could.

“You’re drunk.” fWhip answered.

Then he left on a mission for a hog and a fox.