#a little macaroni all night long

[facts-i-just-made-up]

how are pastas named?

The naming of pasta's a difficult matter, it isn't just one of your holiday games. You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter when I tell you a pasta has three different names.

Yeah I'm not T.S. Eliot, instead please accept this picture I took of some noodles that sound like the sequel to Mambo No. 5:

[emphistic]

Sukuna - 0 / Yuuji - 1

The both of you had reserved a dinner at this restaurant weeks prior. Not for any particular reason, just so you guys could have some fun on a night out together — something that neither of you have experienced in a while. Well, that was the original plan. Yuuji tagging along wasn't. Nor was a tantrum from the little boy, so Sukuna just had to accept the former, unless he wanted the latter . . . which he did not.

This was going to be a long night.

"Umm, can I have a Capri Sun? — Please?"

A very long night.

"Of course! I'll be right back with all of your orders."

Things weren't looking any better for the pink-haired man when the meals came.

Yuuji seemed to be struggling with his macaroni and cheese. Every time he tried to pick up a macaroni, it slid off his fork. Yuuji pouted, puffing his chubby cheeks out, and crossed his little arms.

"Aww, Yuuji. Do you need some help?" You turned to the boy, picking up his fork — that was specifically designed for kids, albeit it wasn't proving to be of any help to the toddler at the moment.

Yuuji fervently nodded his head, "Yes, please!"

"Alright, I'll help you," you ruffled his pink hair, eliciting a giggle from the boy. You picked up some macaroni and blew on it before feeding it to Yuuji.

"'s so yummy!" Yuuji exclaimed.

"Mhm," you wiped some sauce off the side of his mouth with a napkin.

When you had fed Yuuji an adequate amount of his dish, and he decided he wanted to take a coloring break, you began to try your own food. It's safe to say that after having starved yourself to feed a toddler, fettuccine alfredo is close to enchanting.

"Babe, this is so good. You have to try," you twirled the pasta with your fork and held your hand under it — avoiding any possible messes — before feeding it to the man sitting across from you.

Sukuna was ecstatic about having your attention back on him, and not on his little brother, and greedily accepted the food.

"It's not bad," Sukuna remarked, gesturing to you to give him more.

You took another bite of your pasta, before obliging to Sukuna's request, leaning over the table to reach the man.

All the while, Yuuji watched you feed his big brother with glittering eyes. "I wanna try, I wanna try!" He chanted repeatedly, in his adorable, squeaky voice.

"Okay, Yuuji. Just be careful, it's hot," again, you blew on the pasta before feeding it to Yuuji.

"It is dewicous!" Yuuji giggled, having not learned to differentiate between his l's and w's.

You set your fork down, grabbing your purse and getting up from your seat. Both of the Itadori brothers turned to you with looks of curiosity etched on their faces.

"I'm just going to the bathroom. Be right back," you rubbed Yuuji's cheek, making sure he would understand that you would only be away for a little bit.

Sukuna's gaze followed your back as you took your leave. He sighed, not wanting to be left alone with a toddler.

For a few moments, all was silent. Sukuna was glad for the lack of a squeaky voice. Unfortunately, a few moments does not last a long time.

"Umm, Sukuna. Can you help me?"

Sukuna closed his eyes, asking God what he did to be punished this way.

"Help you with what?"

"Can you help feed me, because, because my food is too hot." Yuuji looked at his brother, waiting for him to answer.

Sukuna has to face away from Yuuji, and take a deep breath just to restrain himself from going berserk on the little kid. Then he said, in the most calm voice he could muster, "First, you sit next to my girlfriend and make me sit across from her. Second, you steal her food. And third, you're making me feed you. Yeah, no way, little man." Sukuna shook his head.

Yuuji cocked his head at his brother. "But Y/N was helping me."

"Do I look like Y/N to you? . . . Don't answer that, brat." Sukuna scowlee, grabbing Yuuji's little fork and moving to feed him.

"Here comes the airplane, or whatever. I don't know what kinda shit Y/N says to you."

"Umm, it's too hot."

"That's not my problem, now eat it."

Yuuji gulped, deciding to blow on the macaroni himself, and eating it.

"See? Wasn't so bad."

This continued on for a whopping five minutes. Sukuna finally relented and blew on the macaroni before feeding Yuuji. The little boy was happy to spend time with his older brother, and was practically bouncing in his seat. On the other hand, Sukuna was just glad Yuuji wasn't crying about you not being there.

When you came back from the restrooms, Sukuna immediately put down Yuuji's fork and returned to eating his own meal.

"So, how was it, you two? Did you guys have some quality brotherly love time?"

". . . You are never leaving me alone with this brat again, ever."

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Night Night, Nugget!

PAIRING || Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Fem!Reader x Toddler!OC

WORDCOUNT || 2.3K

SUMMARY || Your nighttime routine may not always be the most conventional when married to an Avenger, but you two have found a way to make it work for your little family. Bucky is often away for missions, which makes the evenings he is home with you and your toddler even more special, and the three of you make them unforgettable each time.

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || Established relationship. Dad!Bucky Barnes. Kid fic. Use of nicknames. Referenced pregnancy.

SMUT || Grinding. Spooning. Light dirty talk. Praise. Fingering. Sleepy sex. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). Orgasm delay. Multiple orgasms. Cream pie. Cockwarming.

A/N || This one-shot is written based on the request I received from the lovely @pipsqueakkitten! As soon as I saw the request come in, I had a plan for it, and I hope it is everything you've wanted! I want to give my endless thanks to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this fic, even though you have a hectic schedule! I'm so proud of you for everything you're doing, bestie, I love you! 💙

EVENTS Masterlist || @fandombingo || Dinosaur cookies Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Book Night || Broken silence Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Frosty || Sleepy sex

Masterlist || @mcukinkbingo || Spooning Masterlist || @multifandom-flash || Glasses are sexy Masterlist || @seasonaldelightsbingo || Buck Bean

GIF: Source || All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Sunday has been your favorite day of the week for as long as you can remember, but they have become extraordinary since the birth of your now two-and-a-half-year-old son, Onyx. Your happy-go-lucky toddler brightens every room with his excited laughter and endless talking. The fact that he looks exactly like your husband, Bucky, is the cherry on top for you.

Today has been a fun day for all three of you, as you and Bucky have taken Onyx to the large playground Tony has built on the grounds of the Avengers Compound as soon as you told him you're pregnant, and now you're preparing dinner for the three of you.

"Mama is back!" Onyx cheers as you enter the dining room. Bucky is sitting at the table beside his son, waiting for their dinner to be plated.

"Yes, Mama's here! Are you excited for dinner, Nugget?" Bucky asks, and your toddler nods happily, his dark brown curls bouncing with every move of his head. You bend down to kiss him on his head before moving to Bucky, who tips up his face to kiss your lips softly.

As soon as the food is plated for all three of you, Onyx dives in while you and Bucky talk about your husband's day at work, which was surprisingly uneventful for once. Being an Avenger has downsides, especially when he can be called away without a warning.

"Dada?" your son asks after practically smearing half his dinner onto his face and hair.

"Yes, Nugget?" Bucky answers, trying not to burst into laughter as he looks at the macaroni smeared across his forehead and curls.

"I love you," he says shyly, and your heart melts slightly at the sight as your son's cheeks turn a bright shade of red as he says it. It's not unusual for the three of you to show affection towards one another, but his sudden shyness is charming either way.

"I love you too, little Nugget. More than you'll ever know," Bucky tells Onyx with a smile before kissing him on the head, expertly avoiding the cheesy pasta sticking to his curls. A small giggle leaves your son's lips, instantly making you and Bucky smile.

"Mama?" Onyx then asks in a soft tone.

"Yes, little Nugget?" you answer with an arched brow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you already know what's about to come.

"I love you!" Onyx exclaims, bouncing up and down in his high chair. His baby teeth show in a broad, goofy smile, and his eyes shimmer with happiness. Your heart fills with pure joy as you look at him and then at your husband.

"I love you too, Nugget," you say before planting a giant kiss on his cheek, exaggerating the kissing noise as you do. Bucky looks at the both of you with a soft, love-filled expression. The rest of dinner is finished quickly, and then you take Onyx upstairs for a much-needed bath while Bucky clears the table and does the dishes so you two can relax after your son is asleep.

"Are you ready for your bath, Nugget? I put your favorite duckies in there!" you say, and he quickly rushes to the bathroom to watch his colorful array of rubber ducks floating in the bathtub.

"Duckies are swimming," he says excitedly as he points at them. It doesn't take long for Onyx to be between them as you're washing the pasta out of his hair, and he's happily babbling away.

You consider yourself very lucky to be the Mom of such a happy-go-lucky toddler, and being married to the man you fell in love with a little over a decade ago is everything you could ask for, and more.

As you wash the shampoo out of Onyx's hair, your mind drifts to the news you want to tell Bucky later tonight. It's something you had to keep secret for a little while. Today is officially the day you can tell him, and you can't wait to tell your husband the amazing news that you're expecting baby number 2 later this year.

"Do you want me or Daddy to read your bedtime story today?" you ask Onyx as you're drying him off. He doesn't like to stay in the bath for too long, so you pull him out and wrap him in a big, fluffy towel as soon as he's done.

"Daddy tells a story!" he answers, and you nod. Seeing how Bucky isn't always home due to his meetings, he wants his Dad to read to him, and you do it on the nights he's not there. And sometimes he asks for you both to do it, making it a family activity.

"Okay, but first, we must put a diaper on and get you into some jammies. After that, we will cuddle with Dada, and you can get one or two of the dinosaur cookies you love so much," you tell him, and he agrees. Onyx will do practically anything for his dinosaur cookies, and you always have a stock of them on hand, just to be sure.

Soon after, Onyx changed into a clean diaper and his favorite pajamas before you sent him off to Bucky, who made the couch comfortable for the three of you with your toddler's favorite blanket and cookies.

"I'm ready, Dada!" he says as he walks into the living room. Bucky spreads his arms, ready to grab Onyx for a much-needed cuddle. Onyx gets comfortable on Bucky's lap, and Bucky wraps him in his favorite blanket as the cartoons he loves so much play on the TV.

While your son is cuddling with Bucky on the couch, you take a quick shower before changing into one of Bucky's henleys and some sleep shorts combined with your glasses, which is Bucky's favorite thing to see on you. In all fairness, he'd rather see you without clothing, but if he has to choose, he prefers it to be his.

As you walk into the living room, you see Onyx nibbling on his cookie while his gaze is fixed on the TV, but you cross Bucky's gaze as he takes in your appearance. He's having an absolute field day right now, from the wet hair to the glasses, his henley, and your bare legs.

"What's going on in that brain of yours, Barnes?" you ask as you sit next to him on the couch, your brow raised as a smirk tugs on the corner of your mouth.

"You," he says with a fond smile, and you immediately smile at him.

"What do you mean, Buck Bean?" you ask, and he can't stop laughing at the nickname.

"I just think your glasses are sexy. They make you look like a sexy librarian or something," he whispers before capturing your lips in a longing kiss. But you don't get to enjoy it for long because Onyx is wiggling his way between you two.

"She's my Mama!" he says before pushing Bucky away, making you both laugh.

"Well, that may be true, but I was here first," Bucky challenges his son, to no avail. He crawls closer to you before cuddling in your lap, his head against your collarbone as he gets comfortable.

"My Mama," he says with a slight pout, and Bucky gives in.

"Okay, you win. You can have her until your bedtime, but after that, she's mine again. How about that?" he asks, and Onyx nods, now smiling again, before grabbing another cookie, which he happily munches on until his eyelids are getting heavy and he's almost asleep in your arms.

"Let's get you to bed, Nugget," Bucky tells his son, who is quickly scooped up before being carried to his bedroom. As always, he gets to pick a story, but before Bucky can get through the entire thing, Onyx is fast asleep. Your husband tugs him in carefully before turning on the nightlight and monitor, and then he joins you on the couch again.

"Welcome back," you say as you kiss Bucky again after he sits down, this time without interruptions. His Vibranium hand is cold against your cheek, and the metal digits softly rub against it, but you don't mind.

You moan softly in his mouth as you fist his shirt, pulling yourself closer to him, and without a second thought, he pulls you onto his lap, where you can already feel his growing erection pressing against your slowly dampening core.

"God, I can never get enough of you, Doll," Bucky whispers against your lips, and you smile into the kiss as you slowly grind your hips over the bulge in his dark jeans. His hands grip your hips as he guides you, and the fabric of your shirt gives you precisely the friction you need to reach your high not long after.

"Hmm, have I told you how sexy you are with these glasses on?" Bucky asks after you've come down from your peak.

"Maybe once or twice," you say with a whisper, and you capture his lips in a soft kiss that leaves him wanting more as he follows your lips when you pull away.

Bucky looks at you with fondness in his eyes, and you can't help but smile as he takes in your features. You're the best thing that has happened to him since he was released from his past in Wakanda, and to this day, he's thanking his lucky stars every day for you.

"I have to tell you something," you tell Bucky, breaking the silence between you. His steel blue eyes are focused on you as his hands lie loose on your hips, his thumbs rubbing the skin under the henley you're wearing.

"You do?" he asks, and you nod.

"I'm pregnant," you blurt out, despite the ''speech'' you had prepared. Now that the moment is here, you couldn't care less about that; instead, you want your husband to know about the baby growing inside you as a token of your shared love.

"Are you serious? I'm going to be a Dad again?!" Bucky asks in disbelief, and you nod as the tears gather in the corners of your eyes.

"You're going to be a Dad again, Bucky! And Onyx is going to be a big brother!" you tell him proudly, and Bucky quickly lifts the fabric of the henley to touch your belly. The contrast between his Vibranium and flesh hand feels comforting, as it reminds you of your husband.

"I-I don't know what to say," he whispers, tears trailing down his cheeks. He already thought his world was complete with you and your son, but this proves how wrong he was about that because his universe could only get better with the addition of your baby.

"I love you so much, Doll," Bucky says before pulling you into a hug. That evening, you two share a whole lot more tears and laughter, thinking back to your first pregnancy and everything you've gone through since giving birth to your son.

Now, you find yourself in bed with your husband, both completely bare and his chest pressed against your back. His Vibranium hand is splayed over your belly as he presses many soft kisses on your shoulder and neck while whispering the sweetest things to you.

"I can't wait until you're showing again, Doll. When your belly is nice and round with my baby," he whispers as he ruts his hips against your butt, his erection trapped between your bodies. You're already starting to get sleepy, but Bucky can't stop lovin' on you since you've told him about your pregnancy.

"B-Bucky," you say in a breathy voice, and his hand trails lower until his cold, metal fingers make contact with your heated, dripping core, and you let out a soft whimper at the feeling of the metal digits playing with your sensitive clit.

"You're doing so well for me, Doll," he whispers as he keeps peppering your neck and shoulder in soft kisses, your breathing getting heavier as he lets his fingers glide through your folds before teasing your entrance.

"Please," you beg softly, and Bucky won't deny you anything when you beg this sweetly for him. Two of his fingers disappear into your entrance, and you bite your lip to supress the loud moan that threatened to escape.

His fingers keep working their magic as he brings you to your high again, but just before you fall over the edge, he pulls out your fingers, leaving you clenching around nothing - however, he's quick to soothe you and your longing pussy.

"Don't worry, Doll, I wanted to be buried inside you as you cum for me; I want to fall over the edge together," he whispers before lifting your leg and hooking it over his, giving him enough space to work his magic between your legs.

"Good girl," he says as he lines up with your entrance. It doesn't take long for him to be buried to the hilt, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. His pace is slow, but it has you feeling every inch of him in this position, feeling him deeper than you thought possible.

"Oh god, you fill me so well, Bucky," you groan as you work your hips in tandem with his, and he keeps up the slow pace as you're both still lingering between wake and sleep, making the fuzziness in your head even more enjoyable.

"Hmm, and you feel so good when you're wrapped around me, Doll," he responds, his thrusts slowly picking up as he gets closer to his high, yours being built up right alongside his own.

"I'm so close, Bucky, please make me cum," you beg again, and his Vibranium fingers move from your hip to your clit, and with a few quick, tight circles on your sensitive bud, you're clenching and milking him for all he's worth, his cum spilling deep inside you.

"I love you so much, Doll, and I can't wait to meet our baby," Bucky whispers after working you both through your highs, and you sigh contently. Not long after, you fall asleep with Bucky buried inside you, and you both have some of the best night's sleep you've had in a long time.

[nohoney]

there’s knocking at bakugou’s front door that he assumes is from you, probably too drunk from your girls night out to get your house keys out from your purse. imagine to his surprise when he opens the front door and he sees three of your girlfriends carrying you together while the fourth one was the one who knocked on his door and you’re knocked out.

“hey bakugou, (name) is home safe and sound!”

he’s gotta hand it to your friends, they’re good ones for carrying you all the way up to the front door.

“thanks, you can give her here. i got her.” bakugou offers up his arms for your friends to relieve them of carrying you.

“no we can take her in, we just wanna kiss her goodnight.”

god the amount of affection you and your friends have for one another once you’re all wasted is something else. but bakugou has long gotten used to it too so he steps aside to let your friend group in. even as your head lolls, one of them carefully readjusts so that your head doesn’t hang at an awkward angle. it sort of reminds bakugou of the one time sero had to carry kaminari over his shoulder after getting too wasted at a house party.

you’re laid down on the big couch you and him purchased together recently, all of them gathered around you and making sure that you’re comfortable. it must be some sort of intuition you have to know that your girls are about to leave that you suddenly open your eyes, still pretty drunk, and you open your arms for your girls. bakugou watches as you and your friend group drunkenly voice your love for one another, smirking a little when one kisses you on your mouth and the other one playfully grabs at your tit with a compliment of how hot you looked tonight.

“bakugou, this is our girl okay? you better take care of her!”

“yeah katsuki!” you join in on hanging up on him, “if you do some stupid shit, they’re gonna get you!”

oh he has no doubt about it; one of the girls in your group is somewhat notorious for petty revenge and even he would not be up for that.

bakugou bids your girlfriends good night, watching from the front door as they all gather into their car. he waves them off as they drive away, the friend that knocked on his door being the designated driver to take the others home. he shuts off the porch light and locks his front door, already knowing the drill of what you want when you’re this drunk at this hour.

“tsuki, i’m hungry and i want-“

“macaroni and cheese with fries. i know baby.” bakugou finishes your sentence, kneeling down to take off your high heels first and then holds the palm of his hand up, watching as you carefully peel off your fake eyelashes and you place them in his hand. “you gonna clean these or toss them?”

“toss.”

into the trash your lashes go and bakugou brings out the boxed macaroni and heats up the air fryer. you go into the bathroom where your makeup remover and all your skincare is already laid out for you, taking in a breath as you gather all two brain cells you have left to clean your face and at least do a body rinse in the shower.

food is ready by the time you exit the bathroom but you haven’t sobered up quite yet. while you eat your usual drunk-past-midnight meal bakugou comments, “i like your friends.”

“yeah, they’re great aren’t they?” you agree with a nod before munching on a crinkle fry. “they like you too. they say i should marry you.”

“really?” bakugou chuckles, “and here i am thinkin’ that my girl is gonna leave me to elope with her girlfriends instead.”

“they’re gonna be my bridesmaids when we get married.”

your words bring a fuzzy, sentimental feeling bloom in his chest. he knows that you’re drunk still and you possibly won’t remember this conversation, but he wants to hear more of what you have to say. “is that so? you talked about our wedding already?”

in drunken detail and while eating your food at the same time, you go over how each of your girlfriends will help support you in planning your supposed future union with bakugou. he listens, not bothering to hide the smile on his face as you go on and on. you talk more about how your friends will be involved rather than you and him but bakugou likes it. he likes how your friends like him and that they’re the most supportive group of girls he’s ever seen.

“you’re gonna wear a orange tie, mmkay? and we’re gonna have a mango cake!” you start to go off about what kind of food will be served at the wedding as bakugou cleans up the plates before you abruptly declare, “katsuki, you’re the only guy my friends like. the only one so don’t fuck this up, okay?”

“i won’t sweetheart, not with your gals ready to hide my body if i break your heart.”

you don’t remember the conversation the next morning when you wake up with a pounding hangover. but bakugou does. he remembers it as he gazes at you with a drink hand, wearing the orange tie you told him to wear and little bites of mango cake having already been fed to him by you. he watches how you hug your bridesmaids, your best friends, the girls who carried you home when you got too drunk and supported your relationship with him.

bakugou remembers how he waved off the girls that night as they drove back to their houses, and now they’re the ones waving you off as you and bakugou get into your car together to head to the airport for the honeymoon.

“you know my girls told me that i should marry you?”

bakugou plays dumb to the question, just only to hear the story from you again how he earned the seal of approval from your closest friends. he owes a mountain of gratitude to them because you and him probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them.

they were the ones who told you to go up to him after all.

[luveline]

hey jade!! i love kisses before dinner and was wondering (if you like the idea) maybe you could write something about avery realising how scary giving birth can be and starts worry about it before the new baby arrives? <3<3<3

thank you for your request! kisses before dinner —mom!you and dad!steve comfort avery when she has concerns for your health. fem!reader, 3k

cw discussed maternal mortality and death

Steve Harrington looks out over the kitchen table that night with a great sense of success. You're sitting at the other end with Dove on your knee, feeding her bites of macaroni cheese between feigned spoonfuls given to her rainbow teddy bear. Bethie sits to his left eating without complaint (a victory considering her pickiness). Avery sits to his right, trying to pour her own glass from the juice jug. It's awesome. 

Steve quickly swallows the drink he'd been sipping on and offers to help her, hand extended, "Here. I got it."

"I can do it," Avery insists, her long arms shaking under the weight. 

He doesn't mind her being independent, nor her improving capabilities, but the last thing he wants to do tonight is clean up a huge juice spill. Steve takes the juice gently and refills her plastic cup. 

"Dad," she whines. 

"Avery," he whines back. 

She huffs and grabs her fork, ignoring her fresh cup of juice to shovel in bites of broccoli and macaroni instead. 

"I think I'm done," Bethie says. Steve must have jinxed it. 

He attempts to do the impossible —convince Bethie to finish dinner. He takes up station by the side of her chair, having tried everything now, and only this works. 

"Beth," he says, putting his hand behind her back, "Are you sure there's no room left? I don't want you to be hungry again before we go to bed 'cos you won't tell me, will you?" 

"I'm full," she insists, reaching for her drink bottle. 

"Is there something wrong with it?" he asks, rubbing up and down her back.

"No, daddy, it's nice," she says. She isn't quite convincing, but she tries. 

Steve looks at her. She looks like Steve sometimes, like neither of you other times, but mostly he looks at her and he sees you. Your smile, your frown, Bethie's tell is the same as yours when she lies. Steve can read you both like a book. 

"Is it cold?" he asks, sticking his pinky finger in the corner of her macaroni. "A little. If I heat it back up for you, would that make it better?" 

"No, please," she says. 

He sighs. "Make you something else? Sandwiches?" 

"I'm not hungry, daddy." 

Steve plasters a smile over his worries and kisses her cheek. "Okie smokie. Well done, honey, you ate lots and lots. Let's try even more for breakfast, yeah?" 

"Yes!" she agrees, sliding off of her chair.

"Where are you going?" he asks. 

"Need to pee!" she yells, running to the stairs. She opens the baby gate (which she’s known how to do for too many years, way before supposed to know how to —thanks so much, Avery) and Steve listens to her sprint up the stairs with a wince. 

"Call me if you need help!" he yells after her. 

"Okay!" 

"You think that's why she didn't want to eat?" you ask, wiping the corners of Dove's mouth with her bib. 

Steve stands up and stretches his arms behind his head. "I don't know," he says, rolling his neck around in a circle. 

"Is it gross if I eat her leftovers?" you ask. 

"I'll make you another pot, if you want it," Steve offers, arms dropping down to his side. He's been trying to get back into shape lately. It's not working out. "You having cravings?" 

"I'm just hungry all the time," you say, your voice melding into a sing song as you finish wiping Dove's face. "All done! Good girl, Dovey! You're my good girl." You plaster her forehead with a layer of kisses before putting her down on the floor. She wobbles, hands on your thighs. "Okay? You want another drink?"

"Dotty Dolly," she says, taking your hand. "Please. Please, Dolly."

"Yeah, my love. I'm coming." You groan as you stand up, not quite pregnant enough to worry about popping soon but more than enough to feel exhaustion to the marrow. 

"Just me and you then," Steve says to Avery, tucking in chairs and piling plates at the table. 

"Me and you, sir," she agrees in a funny voice. 

"Still mad at me?" 

She remembers to glare at him. "Yes!" She takes another bite of macaroni. "Okay, no." 

"If you're not gonna chew with your mouth closed, put your hand over your mouth. I don't wanna see your chewed up dinner." Avery pokes her tongue out, laughing when Steve says, "Ewww." 

He sets the leftovers aside for you rather than waste Bethie's largely untouched pasta in the trash, stacking the dishes in the sink and wetting a cloth to wipe down the table. He cleans around Avery, squeezing her neck, shoulders and arms to make her squirm as he goes.

"You want seconds?" he asks, returning to the sink. 

"I want dessert." 

"Good idea. You know Mom's so pregnant all she does lately is wake me up for ice cream."

"She wakes you up?" Avery asks. 

"By accident trying to put her socks on at the end of the bed. Baby's getting too big now, she can't see her toes." 

"It's a good thing she has you, dad."

"Yeah, but you'd help mommy, wouldn't you? Help her put her shoes on if she couldn't reach?" 

Avery hops off of her chair and passes him her plate, completely clean of food. She grows like a bamboo shoot and eats like a rabid dog. He loves it. She's evidence that he's a good cook. 

"Thank you. What did you want for dessert?" he asks. 

"I have something to ask you." 

"Oh." Steve hates the sound of that, theorising that she wants a new something or other he'll have to say no to. He grabs her by the waist, wet hands and all, hoisting her up onto the counter by the dish rack. He puts a rag in her hands. "You dry and I'll answer." 

"It's a weird question," Avery warns.   

"Avery, you wouldn't believe how weird some of the questions I've asked are. Don't worry about it." 

He scrunches dirty water out of the dish sponge and squirts soap onto a dirty plate. The hot water burns his fingertips. Avery dries a plastic plate diligently, her question coming out slow as running wax. 

"Mom's gonna be okay, right?" she asks quietly. 

Steve fights to keep his eyebrows down. They bob anyways. "Okay from what?" 

"When she has the baby. She's not going to get hurt?" 

"Well, having a baby really hurts. But there's medicine for her to take, and I'll be there to hold her hand." 

"No," Avery says, frowning, "that's not…" 

"Sorry, Ave. Ask me again, try a different word." 

She puts the dried plate down to her left and picks another to dry. "Will mom die?" 

"No," he says. Doesn't miss a beat, though his pulse capers. He knows that childbirth is hard, that lots of things can go wrong, but if he truly thought you might die he wouldn't have asked for another baby. And even if he did think it were going to happen, it's not a thought Avery needs to have. "She won't die, I promise you. Where'd you get that idea, honey?" 

"Jordan's mom died having a baby." 

Steve nods and tries to recalibrate the conversation. He knew of Jordan's mom passing away, he made a couple of trays of food for Jordan's dad and put money in the collection plate for her memorial, but he didn't know Avery knew precisely how it happened. 

"Right, she did," he says gently. "And that's scary, huh?" 

"Why can't it happen to mommy if it happened to her?" Avery asks. 

Steve shuts off the water. Hand still wet, he rubs his forehead roughly. "Can I have that?" he asks Avery, gesturing for the dish cloth. She gives it to him, putting down her last plate, and Steve wipes his fingers dry to pick her up without getting her wet a second time. 

"Let's have a talk," he says, tilting his head to the side. He sees his eyes looking back at him, smaller and softer, longer lashes but the same honeyed brown. "Me, you, and mommy. Okay?" 

"Dad," she says, startled. 

"It's okay, It'll be better if you talk to mom, too, because it's mom that's already had babies, not me. I think I know everything because my brain is so big and stuff, but I can't tell you what your mom is thinking." 

"I don't want mommy to get upset," she says. 

It's partially his fault for asking her to tell him if there's a problem rather than you a few weeks ago. He didn't want you walking up and down the stairs unnecessarily, and your blood pressure is something they've been keeping an eye on. He didn't mean for Avery to bottle things up. Every time Steve thinks he's doing something right it finds a way to bite him in the ass. 

"I meant if Bethie's turned the faucet on and flooded the bathroom, or if you want to change your bed or something, not that you can't ask her things that are worrying you," he says, readjusting her weight. Her knees dig into his sides as he carries her to the living room doorway from the kitchen. 

"Hey, mom?" he asks. 

Your head jumps up. You're sitting on the edge of the couch with Dove's face in your knee, a dribble patch dampening your pants. Bethie has her hand in yours sitting next to you. You're still in your work clothes, your bump straining against everything now, but yet to drop. He'll have to wash your pants tonight. 

"Hey?" you say, a guilty smile tugging up your pretty mouth. "I'm coming to do the dishes, I swear. My girls caught me in their net." 

"Can we talk to you? For a minute," Steve says. 

Your eyes widen. You stand up with a funny noise like someone's stepped on your toes, lifting Dove by the armpits to sit next to Bethie. You kiss the girls goodbye and they're too distracted by Dotty Dolly playing on the TV to mind. 

"What's wrong?" you ask, following Steve back into the kitchen. 

"Want me to explain?" Steve asks Avery. She nods. "Avery's a little worried about you." 

"About me?" You put your hands under your face and beam at her. "What's worrying you? I've never been better." 

"She's worried about when you have the baby." 

"'Cos of Jordan's mom," Avery whispers. 

You hear it despite her small voice, your smile sobering. "I see… I see. You know… you're a big girl, Avery. You're my big girl, and I wish I could keep you this young forever sometimes, but I know that you know that people don't get to stay with us forever, so I don't want to scare you, but I'll tell you what I think, yeah?" 

Avery swallows around nothing. 

Steve gives her back a sympathetic pat. "It's okay," he says to her, enthusing his voice with some pep to calm her down. 

"Jordan's mommy was sick when she passed away," you say, your hand resting on your bump now, inching closer to Steve and Avery where they've paused under the kitchen light. "She knew things were going to be hard. When you have a baby, you know things won't be easy, but it's not fair. It's very sad. She," —you look at Steve with a parent familiar fear that says, Am I saying the right things?— "said goodbye before anyone wanted her too, but Avery." Steve knows what you're going to say. It's a promise he made only minutes ago, one that you have no control over keeping, but a necessary one nonetheless to make. You could very well have complications down the line, things could spin out of control, but Avery doesn't need the stress of that hanging over her. "I promise you here and now that I'm not going anywhere. Daddy won't let me." 

He laughs a little breathlessly. "Damn straight." 

"But daddy isn't a doctor," Avery says, holding out her arm. 

You walk into Avery's reach, letting her climb from Steve's arms to yours without complaint. "He didn't have time to be a doctor, he was too busy being the best dad ever." 

"Are you flirting with me?" Steve asks. 

"Duh, Stevie." You turn your attention to Avery, struggling to hold her and stroke a hair from her face. "Don't worry about me. Promise me you won't, Ave." 

"I just don't want you to go away," Avery says with a frown. 

Steve feels an unexpected heat behind his eyes. You smile softly, your thumb on Avery's cheek. "Then I won't. I'll stay. I can't go anywhere without you, gorgeous." 

Steve strokes the back of Avery's head. "And I can't be without either of you, so mom doesn't have a choice." 

He wishes things were that simple. Steve has no idea what the future holds, but he chooses to believe it'll be a good one, where every one of his girls gets to grow old. But the future isn't something he can predict nor change by wishing alone. 

"Did that make much sense to you, sweetheart?" you ask Avery.

"It makes sense. Sorry." 

You and Steve make twin sounds of loving disbelief. 

"Sorry for what?" you ask, as Steve says, "No, God, don't be sorry!" 

"It's okay to ask me stuff," you say.

"That's what we're here for." 

Avery wraps her arms around your neck. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she whispers, near imperceptibly, Steve's ears straining to hear her under the sounds of the water heater and the television. 

"I'm sure. I've done it three times already."

"Are you scared?" 

You shake your head resolutely. "No. You know why?" 

"Why?" 

"'Cos I know, at the end of it I might get another little girl who's just like you. Or like Beth, or Dove. Maybe I'll get one who's nothing like any of you, but I know with such a great big sister she's going to be amazing." 

Avery rests her cheek on your shoulder. "You think so?" 

"I know so." 

"Thank you," she says. 

You laugh again. "For what?" you ask, nails raking up and down the length of her back. "Only telling you what's true. Me and daddy think you're the bestest." 

Steve rubs his face with both hands rather than cry. Crying makes his eyes sore and he has to wake up at six AM tomorrow to take the girls to swimming lessons at seven thirty. (He also doesn't want Avery to see him crying and get the wrong idea, what with the previous conversation.) 

"Mom?" Bethie asks in the doorway. 

"Yes?" you murmur, resting your head atop Avery's gently. 

"Excuse me." 

You laugh a charmed laugh and scoot out of the way, resting your weight on the door jam. Bethie looks incredibly small idling at his feet, even though Dove is much smaller. She smiles nervously. 

"Daddy?" 

"Yes?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. He pretends to be nonchalant, while inside he's thinking about lots of things. Avery's huge heart and all her worries. Bethie's emerging cheekiness after years of quiet. Dove's roaring giggle when you squeeze her just right. And you, your bump, your devotion to him and the girls, but more than that —your voice and how you talk with all the good you possess. How you're talking now to Avery in dulcet tones. 

Bethie takes his hand. "Can I have the rest of my mac and cheese, please?" 

"Yeah, babe. Unless you want dessert instead?" 

His hand sways in her grip. "I want mac and cheese if that's okay." 

Steve picks her up with a typical dad groan. He'll check on Dove first, but he has no qualms with warming her mac and cheese. He'd offer to make you another helping if you weren't distracted entirely, nose bridge nuzzling into Avery's neck. 

He doesn't know what the future holds, but he hopes for more of this. 

[twstgarden]

❁ ❝ 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝟰𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗮𝗿𝘆 ❞

━ twisted wonderland cast (night raven college only) and gn! student! reader (f/n means first name, n/n means nickname, reader is not yuu) ━ you are celebrating the anniversary of the prestigious academy with your fellow schoolmates.

slight (?) spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia's arc!

do not steal or translate without my permission.

buy me a coffee here and ko-fi here if you want to support me, commissions are open

march 18th.

the anniversary date of night raven college. as a student of this prestigious academy, you naturally had to celebrate with your fellow students. receiving an invitation from ramshackle, you decided to join them in the festivities.

the staff arrived there first, and even asked grim to cook up some meals for the party. of course, yuu thought they were exempted from this task until grim dragged them to the kitchen. you walked around the previously abandoned dormitory, eyeing the purple, black, white, and muted gold balloons, and the other decorations.

some time has passed and grim came out of the dormitory, wearing a chef outfit with a grin on his face, “done!” yuu, on the other hand, sighed before smiling a little, seemingly a little exhausted from all the cooking. to be fair, only the two of them were cooking up the feast and it isn’t exactly easy with a companion who has paws for hands.

a soft chuckle left your lips as you crossed your arms, “well, well, you seem proud, grim.”

“of course! no task is too hard for the great grim-sama!” exclaimed grim before rushing to the tables with yuu in tow as they placed the cooked meals in a presentable manner. with a smile, the headmaster clapped his hands together as he spoke, “wonderful! this is a great way to develop your culinary skills! aren’t i so kind?”

trein sighed at crowley’s remark while crewel stepped forward as he eyed the dishes, “it’s best not to overwork these two pups from ramshackle, headmaster crowley.”

“this calls for a picture!” spoke sam as he glanced at you with a smile, “little imp, will you kindly take a picture of us?” yuu handed the ghost camera to you as soon as you nodded, bringing the camera up to your face as you aimed it towards the staff members.

“okay! ready…”

they immediately lined up and posed together with grim settled on crowley’s shoulder with a big smile on his face, holding his paws out to put up the number 4, and the rest of the staff did the same.

“happy 4th anniversary!”

click!

after the satisfaction of taking a photo, you handed the camera back to yuu and proceeded to enjoy the rest of the day. it did not take long until the rest of the students came by and you found yourself enjoying a drink by the snacks table. a pair of footsteps suddenly caught your attention as you sipped on your drink before taking a glance at your side, seeing ace and deuce approaching you.

“heya, n/n! why are you standing there all alone? come!” spoke ace as he linked his arm around yours and dragged you to where the rest of the first years stood, “have you tried the food? the fudge brownies taste soooo good!”

the moment you stood before the banquet table, epel nudged your arm and pointed at the dessert section, “i saw some tasty treats over there and yuu told me the one i tasted was called kolaches. you should try it!”

the first years proceed to try and feed you every single food on the banquet table as they munched on their chosen treats. even sebek was asking you to try the green apple cucumber smoothie, while jack asked you to try the creamy macaroni salad.

after miraculously getting away from the first years attempting to overfeed you, you bumped into riddle and immediately apologised, “oh! i’m so sorry, riddle.” he shrugged you off and smiled, “no matter. you seem a little dazed, however.” his revelation made you awkwardly laugh a little, “i kinda snacked a little too much….”

“oh dear, it seems our little angelfish is full from all that snacks.”

riddle sighed as soon as he heard that voice, and you turned around to see azul standing there with a smile, the twins on either side of him as they both also held grins on their faces. it was a slightly chilling sight, but you have grown accustomed to it by this time.

“hello, octavinelle,” you greeted as you smiled at them. “we should go for a walk,” spoke riddle as he held your wrist in an attempt to drag you away from the trio. however, they decided to trail behind the both of you. riddle glanced from behind, realising they were following along.

you, on the other hand, did not really mind.

“f/n~!”

a familiar call of your name caused you to pause in your tracks as you saw ruggie approaching you, “where are you going? shishishi, i thought we were going to start packing food for leftovers.”

“ah, right. we can do that later. the rest of the students are still eating,” you replied, causing ruggie to sulk a little. “what if they end up clearing the banquet?! i’m really looking forward to having the spicy meatballs as tomorrow’s lunch, y’know?” spoke ruggie as he clasped his hands together.

before you could reply back, another voice chirped into your conversation.

“do you want more food? we can always share!”

really, what’s with everyone and interrupting conversations today?

you turned to see kalim and jamil as the former waved at you enthusiastically. riddle’s grip on your wrist loosened a little as he remained standing beside you, while the octavinelle trio remained smiling.

“wait, for real?” questioned ruggie, causing jamil to shake his head only to be interrupted by kalim.

“yeah! the more food the better, right?”

you looked at ruggie with a snicker as you patted his back, “well, you won’t have to worry about tomorrow’s lunch. if there’s any leftovers, we can start packing.” with a smile, ruggie nodded and proceeded to walk around the ramshackle dormitory with you and the rest of the second years in tow.

after your walk with the second years, you got back to sipping on your beverage by the entrance, standing beside the balloons as you eyed the rest of the students enjoying their time. with another sip, you saw grim trying to sneak his paw into deuce’s plate and no one seemed to notice his little food thievery. another sip and you saw jamil staring at the dates with a perplexed expression before it morphed back into a blank one. one more sip and you saw malleus standing beside you.

wait, what?

your heart almost jumped out of your chest at the presence of the diasomnia dormitory leader. it was a good thing your glass did not drop to the grass. malleus seemed to notice your surprise as he smiled and apologised, “oh. my apologies. i did not mean to frighten you.”

once you calmed down a little, you smiled at him, “no worries, i was a little too focused on observing everyone else that i did not notice your approach.” malleus merely hummed in response as he, too, looked at the same group of people you were currently eyeing – the third years.

lilia was having a drink with idia as vil approached the two and proceeded to have a conversation. leona was nearby, holding a plate of honey-glazed meatballs and party franks with rook eyeing him at a distance – well, that was odd. on the other hand, trey was holding a glass of cocktail with cater holding up a selfie stick and taking a picture with him.

“lilia seems to be enjoying his beverage a lot,” remarked malleus as he noticed lilia pouring another glass for himself in the middle of his conversation with idia and vil – or vil, with idia panicking to himself due to the social interaction.

“and rook seems to be sneaking on leona,” you added, causing malleus to take a quick glance at the aforementioned individuals with a snicker. you glanced at him and chuckled, “hey now, it’s not funny.”

“yes, but do you see the way kingscholar avoids hunt’s advances? i find it amusing,” replied malleus. you decided to focus on the two of them and realised leona was purposely trying to lose rook in the crowd, only for the latter to find him again.

you blinked and mumbled, “do you think rook just wants to have a conversation with him?”

malleus stayed silent for a moment, “…a conversation would be the possible choice, but the topic of said conversation may appear to be quite threatening.” you hummed in reply, aware of rook’s antics with non-human students, so it isn’t a surprise if malleus had his own experiences as well.

“my my, it seems the two of you are quite busy with student observations.”

you and malleus were fixated on leona and rook that you did not notice lilia standing beside you with a smile on his face. malleus seemed as if he had expected that, however. you smiled and waved at lilia, “oh, hello.”

“are you enjoying the party, little bat?” asked lilia as he sipped on his tomato juice, which made sense why he refilled his glass over and over again. you nodded, sipping on your own beverage, “quite so. i have tasted every dish that is being served, thanks to the first years.”

a soft laugh left lilia’s lips as he replied, “right! i did see sebek trying to coerce you into drinking the smoothie.”

“i have not seen silver around, though,” you added as you looked around, causing malleus and lilia to glance around the entrance as well. “could he have fallen asleep somewhere?” asked malleus.

“i suppose i know where he is. come,” spoke lilia as he started walking towards ramshackle’s backyard with you and malleus in tow. as soon as you arrived to the backyard, you noticed a figure leaning by the tree, wearing diasomnia’s uniform as a few birds surrounded the said figure.

“there he is!” exclaimed lilia like a parent overjoyed at the sight of his child. you approached the dozing figure as malleus spoke, “i suppose the tree is quite comfortable to rest on.” hearing malleus’ voice made silver flutter his eyes open before he stood up straight, “ah! s-sorry, i did not realise i had fallen asleep…”

“why are you standing here? join the party! there’s lots of snacks you can eat,” spoke lilia as he grabbed silver’s hand. the latter hummed a little before glancing at you, “ah… n/n…” malleus glanced back at the banquet table before looking back at silver, “come, silver. let’s indulge ourselves.”

“yes, malleus-sama,” replied silver as he quickly walked beside malleus, both heading to the table and plating their chosen meals. you and lilia were left by the tree in the backyard, smiling at the sight of everyone enjoying the party with no worries in the world, stuffing themselves and laughing with their friends.

lilia eyed malleus and silver with a relieved smile, “…well, i’m very happy.”

“hm?” you turned your head to look at lilia with a puzzled expression, “oh… well, the atmosphere of this anniversary party is quite light-hearted, it makes me happy too.” lilia merely smiled, his eyes still on malleus and silver picking some food with sebek joining them and pointing at the meals they need to try.

“yes, and… i’m happy they’ve reassured me they can take care of themselves now…” mumbled lilia, causing you to blink as you did not know what he meant or what he was hinting at. nonetheless, you smiled and patted his back as he laughed a little, “happy 4th anniversary to our prestigious academy~!”

“mhm, happy 4th anniversary.”

© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[jo-harrington]

You don't have time for Christmas.

Work and home and this friend in a crisis.

Work and home and, let's be honest, probably work again.

And before you know it, it's December 20th and you don't even have any decorations up. Barely anyone does. The neighborhoods that are usually lit up with lights and figurines enough to rival the Griswolds are noticably dark this year.

What holiday? What festivity? It's wake up and hustle and lay in bed in a dreamless sleep. Then wake up to do it all again.

You are a cog in a machine.

You don't know how to voice these things, your displeasure, the secret yearning for the pomp and circumstance and childhood whimsy for the holiday season that's tucked somewhere deep inside your weary body. You can't bring yourself to indulge in it.

You're tired.

You glance down the card aisle at the grocery store but don't stop to grab any for friends. You pick up a bag of peanut butter bells for your candy jar at work but then second guess it at the checkout. Gifts are bought with as much care as you could, but you can't even bother to wrap them as prettily as you usually would.

You can try again for Valentine's. Chocolate hearts with the crispy rice inside and roses for your coworkers. Something.

But this year, you don't have time for Christmas.

And he notices.

It starts with cookies.

He likes to bake--started with boxed cake mix and then you bought him a handheld torch one year so he could try his hand at creme brûlée after he watched a little too much Jacques Pepin on PBS--so it's not anything suspicious. No ulterior motives detected.

Only he's dug up the little handwritten notebook full of your grandma's favorite recipes. Grandpa's handwriting because he wrote it while she dictated. Cookies he's never tasted before himself but seemed to have nailed exactly the way she made them. The love he poured into the treats matched hers exactly.

He brings you a plate and a cup of cocoa when you come home and collapse on the couch.

You cry when you eat them. And he lets you.

Then he digs out the tree from the garage.

The one-car garage that you pay extra for doesn't fit either of your vehicles but fits all your crap. You both vow to clean up at some point and never do. He slogs through the boxes of old band tees that don't fit him and kitchen crap that you don't miss or really need, to get to the plastic 6 ft tree that used to have stickers to note which bough went in what slot but those are long gone.

He spends hours figuring it out and decorating it, and imagine your surprise when you come home to an otherwise-dark apartment illuminated by the fat, colorful incandescent bulbs that you're sure he spent a significant amount of time untangling. You'd both given up last year and went without lights. But there they are.

"What?" you drop your bag by the door. "What is this?"

"I dunno," he grins proudly. "Thought it would be nice. Get in the Christmas spirit. Saved the star for you to put on top if you want."

And you did. You wanted it so bad. Ever since you were a kid, you were the one to put the star on top of the tree.

After it's up, you marvel at the special care he's taken with the important ornaments. Fragile little wooden ones from your grandma, popsicle stick frames with baby pictures of both of you, a macaroni snowman that he gave his mom once-upon-a-time that his uncle had stashed away, and then a fancy hallmark one you got the year you moved in together.

They all have special places on the tree and tell a story of your lives, separate and then together.

You both lay under the tree that night, staring up at the glittering lights as you hold hands.

Finally it's Christmas Eve. Which to him really meant nothing, but to you meant the world. Christmas Days were spent with individual families but Christmas Eves of old meant a big dinner and time spent with your cousins and It's a Wonderful Life on the TV.

It's a tradition that got put to the wayside as everyone got too old and too tired. As you started getting scheduled to work, like this year. And it's almost worse this year, as you've done a stretch of you-can't-remember-how-many days, that you even turned down an invitation for the two of you from your mom for a small dinner with her.

You're exhausted by the time you get home and, more than anything, you're looking forward to the day off tomorrow.

Not the holiday. The day off.

Still, you remember to bring in the handful of gifts from their hiding place in your trunk. You don't really do gifts between the two of you anymore. Nothing big at least. Just a cheesy little thing. Something fun, not something serious. But you did a little more this year than you usually would--all of the OT you'd clocked for one, and too many things you saw that you knew would make him smile for another.

You try to tip toe into the house as quietly as possible so you can throw the boxes under the tree and shower but he's vigilant. He's been at the stove cooking for a while, and he greets you at the door as you shut it behind you.

"I thought we said no big gifts," he admonishes you and snatches the boxes from your hands. The wrapping paper isn't festive--just brown craft paper you stole borrowed from work since you wrapped on your lunch--but you managed to slap on some red and green bows from the drugstore that you grabbed the other day.

"They're not big," you explained. "I promise."

"Well neither are mine," he winked.

You slap a hand against his chest and then give him a kiss in greeting and thanks.

"One better be the RC racer I wanted when I was nine," he mutters against your lips.

"Hmmm, you're just gonna have to wait," you tell him. "And no shaking the boxes.

You're almost a little ticked off'; one of them is the RC racer.

You kick off your shoes as the smell finally hits you.

Dinner.

Thick and savory and fragrant.

Some kind of fish and roasted potatoes and the starchiness of a pasta and the tang of its sauce.

Recipes, again, taken from your grandma's little notebook. They stir something deep inside of you. That yearning you never voiced.

The weariness that's been slowly building within you finally comes to a head when you make it to the kitchen and see the pots and pans and two plates already portioned out.

An ice cold beer for him, and a Shirley temple, extra cherries, for you.

"Remember when you told me," he comes up behind you and his arms snake around your midsection, "that you and your cousins would sneak extra maraschino cherries from the fridge when your gram wasn't looking. And then she went to go get them for the pistachio salad and they were gone."

Your knees shake and you practically collapse against him.

"Speaking of which, there is a pistachio salad in the fridge for dessert."

"Why?" you sniff.

"Because that's actually my favorite, so sorry to your grandma's tiramisu." He pecks a kiss to the side of your head and rocks you back and forth. "But if you want to make that for New Year's Eve, I won't say no."

"No," you let out a watery laugh. "Why are you so good to me, why did you do all of this?"

"Because I know it's been a hard few weeks. Few months." You can feel him shrug. "Fuck, it's been hard for me too but...I know this is one of your favorite parts of the year and you just...haven't been in the spirit for it. So whatever I could do to make it happen for you..."

You turn in his arms and bury your face in his shoulder, in his neck, so he doesn't see your tears. Again. Worse this time as you begin to shake from your sobs. He shushes you, runs a hand over your back, and leaves kiss after kiss against your head.

"Baby, I'll do anything for you," he tells you, voice thick with emotion. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," you whine against his skin. "I'm so...so happy."

"Good."

"Thank you," you repeat it over and over again until it feels like you're empty of all the void and indifference that have filled you for the past few months are gone. In their place just...love and gratitude for him.

"Merry Christmas baby. I love you."

"I love you too, Merry Christmas."

[cosmerelists]

Attending a Party Thrown by Each Radiant Order

As requested by anon. :)

You've been invited to a party! Actually, ten parties. But the twist is that each party is thrown and attended only by a single Radiant order and also we're in some kind of quasi-modern AU. What would each party be like?

[Previously: Radiant Orders play boardgames, have sleepovers, and go to musicals]

1. The Lightweaver Party

The invitation is a glossy, stylized illustration of a hand holding a wine glass--a true work of art. You later find out that every invitation is unique; no two are the same. The invitation leads you to a large ballroom-esque hall. "What is your name tonight?" asks a masked figure at the door. "Uh...Fred?" you say. You had not planned this. "Welcome...Fred," they say and let you in. It is shadowy inside, perhaps because all of the light comes from fairy lights and electric candles. Everyone is masked--including you, as per the invitation. People glide about, talking and laughing in low voices. It's not unwelcoming exactly, but certainly...surreal.

2. The Windrunner Party

The invitation is a couple of dudes saying, "Hey, there's a thing. Wanna come?" when you run into them at the bar. "The thing" appears to be some kind of picnic at a local park: you were told it was a potluck, so you did bring a macaroni salad, but the focus seems to be the large pot of stew that one of the men is making. There's a lot of eating and laughter and sunshine, and frankly a lot of hot people in uniform. You have a good time. Even if the Captain is just a little bit glowery the whole time.

3. The Edgedancer Party

A roller skating rink! You haven't been to a roller skating rink in sooo long! You're honestly psyched. As you do your best to skate around, others glide smoothly past you, looking like they were born skating. When you take a break to eat a mediocre but nostalgic corndog, a couple of them sit with you and you get to chatting. You're just at a skating rink, eating a mediocre corndog, but somehow...you've never felt so heard. When you go back to skating, you're skating with maybe a tear in your eye.

4. The Stoneward Party

It's just a party at someone's house, where everyone brings a case of beer or a bottle of wine or a snack food, and everyone drinks out of red solo cups. But you know what the vibe is? Convivial. Like, people are waving you over to join their conversations and asking about your hobbies and at one point? Someone suggests a party game? And everyone plays? Like, it WAS a pretty competitive game of charades, but everyone seemed to be having fun the whole time.

5. The Truthwatcher Party

Their party was at a local bar and on trivia night. The party was immediately pretty boisterous--someone brings up politics, like, immediately, and then everyone is happily shouting their thoughts back and forth across the table. But when trivia time hits, the mood turns serious.

6. The Dustbringer Party

It's in the basement of a warehouse that you're pretty sure is due for demolition. Certainly, it does NOT feel particularly structurally sound and there IS a lot of, like, concrete dust and debris everywhere. But once you get downstairs--well, this is not just a party. This is a rager. There is music and alcohol and drugs if you want 'em, and people are shouting and dancing and generally having a good time. "When you're like us, you GOTTA let loose every once in a while or you go INSANE!" someone says to you at one point. "It's about release?" you say and everyone in a five-foot radius groans at the pun.

7. The Willshaper party

It's drugs. Lots of drugs. Some of them are illegal, some of them aren't, but the people here would definitely scoff if you tried to make that distinction.

8. The Elsecaller Party

Well, it certainly is a very correct party. You receive an RSVP, and it's clear that you are meant to respond. In writing. Which you do. The RSVP lets you know that the party is semiformal, and that the dinner course will begin at precisely 7pm, so you do not even try to do the whole "fashionably late" thing. You are there by 6:55. Good thing, too, because everyone else is already there. "Everyone" being Jasnah and one small, inky man. Have you ever had dinner with your dissertation advisor who is also your mom somehow? Well, then you know how this party went. You were SWEATING the whole time.

9. The Skybreaker Party

When they checked your ID at the entrance to the small event hall they had rented, you laughed and asked if they wanted to make sure you were over 21. Their expression in reply told you that this was not a joke. Inside, there is a cash bar, and some hors d'oeuvre being handed around on plates. The people inside are mostly talking about their recent accomplishments in a way that makes you feel that they are all very stressed and trying to prove something. "It's a test," says a bald man who appeared very suddenly next to you. "A test of what?" you ask, suddenly very afraid. But he is gone.

10. The Bondsmith Party

You're at a party, and it's just you and two other people. The two other people? Married. You feel like you're crashing a date. They're being very nice and you are being included in every conversation but you're also literally the third at a party with only two other people who are married. You can't help but think this would be WAY less awkward if there were just ONE more Bondsmith. But who knows if THAT will ever happen!

[itsabouttimex2]

I loved the reactions to the lady bone demon defendant! But what about LBD reacting to it? Platonic of course, but would she try to manipulate them? Perhaps get them to join her willingly or by force?

Descendant of the Lady Bone Demon: Part Three

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Maybe they should've seen this coming. Maybe there were a few warning signs they didn't pick up on. Looking back on it now, it's pretty obvious, isn't it? All those little things should've added up a long time ago.

The way the room grew silent and tense when you walked in, no matter how how exuberant it had been prior. How you manage to sneak up on everyone without even trying, as though you had no presence. The wide berth that strangers give you, even though they can't explain why. That last one had been particularly strange for your friends. They hadn't understood why people would treat you so coldly, not back then.

They understand now.

Just because someone loves you doesn’t mean that they want the best for you.

The man that Megapolis calls their ‘Mayor’ has somehow become your most enduring caretaker thus far. Everyone that came before him had either given you up after a few scarce months of guardianship, disappeared without a trace, or succumbed to some kind of sickness.

Frequently, the blame had been put on you. If a child gets passed through foster home after foster home after foster home and never acclimates to any of them, there’s a conclusion that many will draw- the child isn’t trying hard enough.

Never mind how many of your guardians would leave you locked outside for hours on end, well into the freezing cold night.

Never mind how often they ‘forgot’ to properly feed and clothe you, pocketing the allotted care salary for themselves.

Never mind often you weren’t allowed to explore the temporary houses outside of your own room, kept away from areas meant for ‘real’ family.

Never mind often how you were fed box-mix macaroni-and-cheese while your foster family ate real meat and vegetables.

Never mind any of that, of course.

The problem was obviously you, your ‘families’ had decided. And so had their friends and extended families, and even the system that threw you from one miserable little home to the next, leaving you with no one and next to nothing. All that you owned you carried around in a disposable plastic sack, never bothering to unpack and try to settle in.

You’d be gone in another month or two anyways.

Until you had been introduced to the mayor of Megapolis, that had been all the life you had ever known.

With one hand firmly on your back, he leads you into his house, a discreet building hidden away in quiet part of the city. It stands proudly above you, an ancient building refitted time and time again to suit the ever-changing trends of time. The walls are painted in elegant grays and a variety of tastefully selected blues, providing a clean and refined atmosphere.

It wasn’t often that you could truly call a temporary home clean. And this was certainly the first time you could apply an adjective such as ‘elegant’ to a building.

So many houses run-down from lack of care, pet urine long-seeped into fraying carpets, worn cots covered in dust and packed six or eight to one crumbling room.

His arm shifts down your back and to your wrist, holding tight. With such unnervingly wide eyes and the rictus grin he sports, you should be scared.

You should be scared that he’ll hurt you. But you’ve lived a life that’s proven to you a single fact: getting hurt is inevitable.

No matter how much you come to trust someone or how long you live with them- there’s no love or kindness. Just an always-ticking clock, counting down until the moment they break and throw you out quicker then they would toss trash.

But there’s no bruising grip this time. No harsh shoves. No unkind words. No molded side room that smells of bleach and detergent.

“Welcome home, Y/N!” he calls out with a much too loud tone, grinning ear to ear. “I hope you like your new room!”

It’s… actually nice. Not ‘for your standards’ nice. It’s ‘hotel’ nice. ‘Lavish guest room’ nice.

The longer you spend basking in the pleasantly smooth greys and blues of your new room, the more welcoming they feel.

“Thanks,” you manage to say, hoping that you weren’t ‘too late with gratitude’ as you had been so many times before according to many, many caretakers.

“Why, of course!” The grey-clad man pats your back with far too much force, pushing you inside with a stretched grin. “Please, get comfortable! I hope you’ll enjoy your- hopefully- very long stay!”

The door slams behind you, but doesn’t lock. That’s good, you think. You could leave, if you wanted to. You weren’t just trapped in here until your case worker came and asked for you.

And you think that might be the case when he knocks on the door hours later, probably to hand you a metaphorical eviction notice and throw you out because he got ‘unnerved’ like everyone always does-

And you are instead invited downstairs for a hot drink.

How could you say no?

The fireplace is hot, stoked by old papers strewn between the logs inside. If you looked closer, you’d see the names of your previous caretakers and case workers, printed onto them in neat lettering, all in a short, succinct list. And you’d notice the big ‘missing persons report’ stamped in bright red.

But the tea is warm and sweet, and the ‘Mayor’ has his arm around your shoulders as he holds you a little too close-

And you’re naive and desperate enough to consider this safe.

The Lady Bone Demon watches from within. She’s an ever-present force creeping through your veins, ice-cold and unearthly. Her power courses your blood, pumping slow. She feels through your hands. She sees through your eyes. She hears through your ears.

There’s no escape from her.

Carefully, the Lady sows and reaps your suffering. From the confines of your flesh, she makes note of all that brings you to tears, all that brings you to your knees.

In pulses, she strengthens you. Where you walk, crystals grow, smothering flowers and grass in your unknowing wake.

In waves, she activates the powers lying dormant in your veins. Bones buried deep underground shift and stir, waiting eagerly to heed your call.

In surges, she unleashes her presence, staining your eyes the color of a deathly cold ocean. All but a select few retreat in droves, leaving you to wonder what you’ve done to deserve your loneliness.

It is nothing short of cultivation. Within you blooms a small seed of her power, and she stokes it from the inside. The bud of cold blue slowly blooms, rooting deep through your blood. In time, she weaves those roots further and further into the fertile soil of your flesh, ensuring that they may never be pulled free without the utter destruction of your life.

A flower; unremovable, of crystalline sinew and careful tending, a slow and creeping overtake of your life woven by hands unseen. A growing mote of power to be plucked and consumed, taken as part of a greater whole when the day finally comes that you bloom.

And what a wonderful sacrifice you shall make for her cause.

[nomizombie]

Stargazing with Boyfriend!König x GN!Reader

[SFW/Fluff/Wholesome] ; gender-neutral reader, no usage of y/n, established relationship, i hc könig to be very soft when you’re dating :))

[A/N] ; i was watching a tiktok and thought of a scenario like this where könig is embarrassed when he's caught looking at you hehe

cosplayer was @/koni_.macaroni on tiktok! :)

You and König sat on the hood of your car, staring up at the moon. The evening sky was a deep black. It twinkled and shined littered with endless constellations and white speckles. It was such a beautiful night you hadn’t even noticed König staring at you.

“Isn’t it breathtaking?” You exclaimed. The soft chirping of crickets fills the silence. A deep exhale left your body as you breathed in the cool air.

“Ja, very pretty.” He continued to stare into your eyes, unwaveringly.

“I wish we could…” you trailed off finally noticing his burning retinas, “König? How long have you been staring at me?”

He diverts his gaze. A little embarrassed that he was caught.

“Scheiße! No- I mean, really...? Was I?” He nervously laughed. Fiddling with his thumbs and staring down at his shoes.

This ruthless cocky soldier acted like this when it was just you and him. How cute.

“You can just say you were, König.” You laughed, playfully hitting him.

“You are my boyfriend after all.”

His eyes returned back to you before widening and quickly darting away.

“I know, I know. I just get so nervous around you..” He turns back, a sheepish grin on his face. His accent was thicker, a sign he was embarrassed.

He quickly covers his face with his hands, staring at you through his fingers.

You can’t help but melt at this seemingly immature boyish gesture. Sometimes you forget just how much ‘boy’ is in your boyfriend.

"Oh, really?" You egg him on, "Why's that?"

"You know why."

He's staring again.

"Jeez- You have a really intense stare." You look away a little red. "Blame yourself for being so pretty, Schatz." He smiled.

dividers by @mmadeinheavenn ^_^

[roostersbby69]

0.3 | Brothers best friend

Pairing: College Bradley x Jake’s sister y/n

Warnings: swearing, alcohol mentions of sex

When you woke up in the morning you were confused as to how you ended up in Bradley’s bed when you remember falling asleep on the couch. You shrugged it off thinking It was Jake when he got home late last night from Veronica’s.

Slipping the covers off of yourself, you stretched and decided to get up. You walked to Bradley’s bathroom and brushed your teeth then washed your face.

You walked out of the bathroom and smelt pancakes, so immediately you walked to the kitchen to see Bradley over the stove flipping another pancake. Your eyes didn’t fail to catch the scratch marks that trailed practically from his neck to his pajama pants. They look like they hurt.

“Morning.” You said slowly as you approached him.

He turned to you and smiled, “Morning, I made your coffee over there.” He pointed to the steaming mug with the spatula.

“Thanks,” you walked to it and still eyed the marks with a twisted face, “what did you get into a fight with a… very large cat?”

He turned to look at you with a confused face until you pointed to his back. His eyes widened as he dropped the spatula on the counter. “Oh shit, sorry.” He ran out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

Shaking your head, you grabbed the mug and took a long sip. You sat at the table and crossed your legs, you grabbed a piece of paper from the table and read it, trying to act like you were doing something.

He walked back in with a shirt on and apologized, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… you know… for you to see that.”

You shrugged, “None of my business.”

He stood and stared at you with an apologetic look on your face as you brought the mug up to your lips and sipped it while holding eye contact with him. You brought the mug back down, “You’re burning your pancakes.”

He rushed to the pan and flipped it back onto the plate as it was black. “Shit.”

You shook your head and watched him until Jake walked in rubbing his eyes.

“Morning, sis.” He ruffled your hair.

“Morning, Jake.” You sipped your coffee, “How’s Veronica?” You asked smugly.

He gave you a look and rolled his eyes, “So, Bradley,” Jake turned to Bradley who was grabbing forks from the drawer, “How’s Nicole?”

“So… you two are seeing your hookups, that means I can have one.” You spoke before Bradley could and looked at Jake.

“Absolutely not.” Jake and Bradley said at the same time.

“What?! You aren’t my dad.” You spoke to both of them.

“You can’t have one, you’re my little sister.” Jake said.

“And you’re my big brother.” You snapped back, “You’re a great influence on your little sister.” You said sarcastically.

Jake sighed, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t see her anymore.”

You scoffed, “That’s a lie.”

Jake looked over to Bradley, “Bradshaw?”

Bradley looked up at him as he sat down, “What?”

Jake groaned and shook his head, “let’s just eat.”

-

Unknown caller: heard ur back in town

You rolled your eyes and set your head in your hands.

“Hey man, you really need to fill this fridge up.” Jake said as he bent down to look in the fridge.

“Go grocery shopping then.” Bradley said as he tossed a ball into the air and caught it.

“Let me drive the bronco and I’ll go.” You shrugged as you scrolled through your phone.

“Absolutely not.” Bradley shook his head.

You rolled your eyes and didn’t notice as he smiled at you.

“I’ll go.” Bradley said, he grabbed his keys from his pocket and stood up.

“I want to go.” You said as you stood up.

You grabbed your phone and slipped your converses on by the door.

“Jake, you going?” Bradley called through the house.

“Nah, I’m gonna take a nap. You know, stayed up all night.” He plopped on the couch.

“Gross.” You groaned as Bradley snickered and opened the door for you.

-

“Fettuccini or macaroni?” You held up two boxes to Bradley, who was pushing the cart.

“They’re the same thing.” He shrugged.

“No they aren’t. Ones longer.”

He shrugged again and you sighed, “Fettuccini it is.” You threw the box into the cart.

“It’s like me and Jake.” He muttered.

You turned around holding two cans of sauce, “what did you say?”

“Nothing, nothing.” He shook his head.

“Alfredo or tomato?” You held them both up to him.

“Alfredo.” He finally decided. You nodded and set the can back on the shelf then set the Alfredo sauce in the cart. “Good choice.”

You shopped around and went down almost every aisle. “Do you know how to cook?” You asked him.

“Yeah, probably not very good, but I know the basics.”

“Yeah like watching the pancakes on the pan?” You teased and raised a brow.

“Ha ha.” He laughed sarcastically and rolled his eyes.

You smiled and remembered something you needed, “I’m going to go grab something real quick.”

He watched as you started to walk down the aisle, “Don’t get kidnapped, Jake will kill me.” He called to you.

You ignored him and continued on to the next aisle.

You scanned the tampon aisle and grabbed a box. You saw out of the corner of your eye a man standing down the same aisle. Weird, what man stands in the tampon aisle. Maybe he’s getting them for his girlfriend.

You turned to grab another box and noticed when the man got closer to you. You eyed him and set both both boxes down and turned to walk away when he stopped you, “You’re a pretty lady.”

You looked at him and muttered a small, “Thanks.”

“What’s your name?” He asked.

You really wished you didn’t leave Bradley.

“I don’t give my name to strangers.” You tried to walk past him until he stopped you with his hand, “Now that’s no way to talk to people.”

“This guy bothering you, honey?” A voice came from behind the man.

You both looked to see Bradley holding the cart as he eyed you both.

Thank God.

“Just leaving, man.” The guy said and eyed you one more time before walking away.

You sighed, “Thanks, Bradley.” And turned to grab the box of tampons again.

“I told you not to get kidnapped.” He watched you.

“I didn’t get kidnapped.” You shook your head and threw the box into the cart.

“You almost did.” He retorted.

“But I didn’t.” You pointed at him and walked beside him as you walked to the next aisle.

-

When you finished shopping, and getting groceries for the next two days, you finally checked out.

You grabbed your card and went to stick it in the card reader before Bradley stuck his in.

“Bradley.” You looked up at him as he typed in his PIN number.

“Y/n.” He looked at you and looked back at the cashier.

“I was going to pay for that.”

“But you didn’t.” He took his card out and put it back in his wallet.

“But I was going to.” You shoved your card into your pocket.

“Y/n, you’re not paying for anything in front of me.” He thanked the cashier and took the receipt.

You rolled your eyes and went to grab bags before Bradley took them all into his arms. You huffed and looked up at him as he smirked.

“Or carrying anything.”

-

You got back to the house and unloaded the car, Bradley was carrying the last bags inside when you saw him drop his phone.

You picked it up and made sure the screen didn’t crack before you saw a text on it. You didn’t mean to read it. Your eyes just happened to look.

Nicole: I had fun last night ;)

Your brows creased as Bradley walked back outside.

“You okay?” He poked his head out of the door.

You quickly looked up at him and nodded, “Yeah you dropped your phone and I was just making sure it didn’t crack.” You walked to the door and handed it to him.

“Oh, thanks.” He took it and stepped aside for you to go into the house.

“Back already?” Jake asked, still on the couch.

“Yeah you lazy bum.” You walked past him and heard loud footsteps towards you. You turned around as he scooped you up and threw you onto the couch.

“Jake!” You screamed as you landed on the cushions.

He smirked and walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer, “Want one? Oh wait you’re too young.” He teased as he cracked it open.

“I can drink if I want.” You got up.

“No you can’t, not under my house.” He shook his head and took a swig.

“Actually it’s my house right now.” Bradley walked in and grabbed a beer also.

“So can I drink?” You asked and went for a bottle.

“No.” He closed the fridge.

You rolled your eyes and went back to the couch and opened your phone. You remembered Jackson text you, you went to his contact and read the text over.

Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to text back.

—————————————————————

[crazyunsexycool]

My Little Love

Chapter 27

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Fluff, angst, explosion, implied character deaths

A/N: So here we go!!!

Series Masterlist

With a deep breath and a small stretch you begin to wake up. You smile when you realize that Bucky is still laying next to you. It’s a small comfort knowing he’s getting his much deserved rest since he tends to be awake earlier than you. Turning your head you take in his muscular back. It’s riddled with scars, scars that you’ve kissed many times already and will again. You shift slowly so as to not wake him and drape your arm around his midsection. Many nights it was Bucky pulling you into his chest and making you feel safe, at this moment you get to do the same. It makes you smile and you can’t help but lean forward and kiss his left shoulder blade. One kiss turned into two and then three and so on. By now you knew Bucky was awake but he stayed still as he accepted your affection.

“Good morning, baby.” You whisper into his ear. 

Bucky turns his head to look at you with a lazy smile and sleepy eyes. He was beautiful and all yours. 

“It’s a great morning, Sugar.” 

Bucky turns in bed and lays on his back. You take the opportunity to straddle him and lean down to give him a quick kiss. 

“I have a date planned for us today.” Bucky says when you pull back. 

“Really?”

“Yup. Just the two of us.” 

“Have you informed our daughter? You know she’ll want to go with us.” 

“I did talk to her about it. She did pout but she knows it’s a surprise so she’s ok.” Bucky chuckles as his hands slip under your sleep shirt. 

“Let’s get up, old man, before those two can wreak havoc on the compound.” 

“Give me five more minutes with you just like this.” 

“Just five?”

“Fine,” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Ten.” 

“Happily.” 

****

“Uppies.” Lottie says with a yawn, it’s still early and you’re surprised to see her awake. 

With her hair sticking up in all directions and her purple princess footed-pajamas still on Lottie clings to Bucky. Hiding away from the light by sticking her face into the space between his shoulder and neck she holds onto her pink teddy bear. You wave Bucky over to the couch since he won’t be able to do much now that Lottie has decided to fall back asleep. You smile as you watch Bucky smooth out her hair as he sits down and gets comfortable. 

“Morning mama.” Henry walks into the kitchen. He’s still sleepy too but he smiles in your direction as he holds up a hair tie. “Can you help me?”

You grab it and pull his hair up into a manbun. 

“Have you thought about getting a haircut?” 

“No, I don’t want it short.” Henry covers his head with his arms. 

“It was just a suggestion, sweet boy. I won’t make you do something you don’t want.” You kiss the top of his head. “You know your dad had long hair too and he looked very handsome with it.” 

“Do I look handsome with it?”

“So handsome. Now why don’t you go cuddle up with dad and Lottie on the couch.” 

“Ok.” Henry smiles and gives you a hug before he walks away while you work on breakfast.

“Hi Buce.” 

“Hello Charlotte, how are you today?” Bruce asked as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Am good. Can habe uppies?” 

Charlotte stopped right in front of Bruce, her hands busy with a paper plate while you trailed behind her. He picks her up and sets her down on one of the free spaces of his table. 

“Habe pwesent Buce.” 

“You do? Who’s it for?” 

“Fo’ you.” She holds up the paper plate full of glued down dried macaroni pieces and painted cotton balls all laid down to look like him. You even helped her make the frame for his glasses out of construction paper.

“Is this me?” 

“Yup.” 

You chuckle as Bruce holds it up beside his face and asks if he and the macaroni art look alike. Charlotte giggles and nods happily.

“We’ve been playing around with different arts and crafts.” 

“Habe this too.” Lottie holds up a bracelet made of green beads. 

“Well this is so nice of you Charlotte. Thank you.” 

“Now that we are done with the gift giving, here are my files that you needed.” 

“Thanks. I’ll get them back to you as soon as I can. I also have those reports on those people that received the same shot you did. If you can look at them and give me your opinion, that would be great.” You nod while he pulls out two lollipops from his lab coat pocket. Something you realize he started doing recently. “And this is for you and your brother, Charlotte.” 

“Wook mama.”  Lottie holds up both lollipops. 

“I see that. It was very nice of uncle Bruce, can you say thank you?”

“Oh, Tank you Buce.”  

“You are very welcome.” 

“I’ll see you later Bruce.”

“Bye-bye Buce.” 

“Bye, Charlotte.” Bruce says as he sets her back on the floor.

****

“Here are the reports you needed.” Bucky holds up a stack of files and places them on Steve’s desk. 

“Thanks. Is everything ok?” 

“Yeah.” Bucky nods but then sits down on one of the chairs across from Steve’s desk. Henry takes the other one but is distracted playing with Alpine. “I’m taking Y/N out on a date tonight.” 

“Nice, want me to watch the kids?”

“Nat volunteered, said something about you hogging up their time.” Bucky shrugs. “But I’m kind of nervous.”

“Nervous about what?”

“Steve, it's the date.”

“Oh. Wow ok so it’s happening tonight. When you come back you’ll be an engaged man.” Steve says with a grin. “This is great.”

“You don’t know that. Y/N could say no.”

Henry scoffs. “Please, mama would never say no to you.” 

“I second that. I know she won’t say no, she loves you way too much.” 

“Mama talks about how much she loves you all the time.”

Bucky nods slowly and takes a deep breath. It’ll be easy. All he has to do is ask a simple question. Although the thought of being rejected is really making him have second thoughts. It’s not about the rejection but the person doing it. He really can’t see his life without you now and he wants to give you the perfect evening and end it with the perfect proposal. Something small and intimate, just the two of you.

You were standing in the living room waiting for Bucky and saying your goodnights to the kids. Charlotte was giggling as she clung to you like a koala.

“Are you going to be good for auntie Nat?” You ask while smoothing out her hair. 

“Am good mama.” 

“What about you mister?” 

“Yup.”  Henry said between taking sips of his juice box. “You look pretty in your dress mama.” 

“Thank you sweet boy. I just had to wear the dress you got me.” 

“Yeah, so pwetty mama. Wike a pwincess.” 

“Do you think daddy will think I look pretty?” 

“Stunning, beautiful, gorgeous, bewitching. Should I go on?” Bucky says from the door with a fond smile. He closes the distance and wraps his arms around you and Charlotte, who is now sandwiched between you.

She giggles as she looks up at both of you. 

“Dada am here.” 

“I didn’t see you there, doll.” 

Charlotte giggles some more before Bucky scoops her up. He peppers her cheeks with kisses and sets her down on the couch next to Henry and then places a kiss on Henry’s head. 

“We have to go or we’ll be late to our reservations.” 

“Ok well, have fun kids.” You wave at them as Nat walks in. “Thanks for watching them.”

“You’re welcome. Now go and have your own fun.” 

Bucky drove you into the heart of the city. He was nervous, you could tell but you didn’t know why. Still he’d look over at you every few minutes and flash you his most charming smile. It wasn’t until you got to your destination that you knew something was up. Getting reservations at one of the most exclusive restaurants in the most exclusive hotel in New York City was no easy feat. 

Bucky parks at the entrance and jumps out of the car to open your door. You admired how handsome he looked in his all black suit and t-shirt combo. He holds his hand out to help you up and out of the car and then offers you his arm. 

“How did you manage reservations here?” 

“Had a little help.” He winks as you walk toward the elevator to the top floor. 

****

The view of the city was spectacular from the top floor where the restaurant was. The hostess led you from the entrance off to the left and onto a private balcony. There was only one table at the center and a bar at the end. Bucky pulls a chair out for you and a server is there in an instant to take your drink order. 

“This is beautiful.” You murmur as you look out over the city.

“You’re beautiful.” 

Bucky takes one of your hands over the table. His cheeks are tinted pink as he looks at you. You squeeze his hand to reassure him everything was ok even though you were trying to figure out why he was acting the way he was. 

“Y/N, I-“ Bucky’s cut off by the ringing of both of your phones. 

“Maybe it’s the kids.” You say as you fish yours out of your purse. 

Bucky mutters a curse in Russian and grabs his phone. He stands and walks away to a corner so you won’t hear his conversation.

“Hey Nat, is everything ok?” You answer your phone.

“So sorry to ruin the date but we need you both back here immediately.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s a mission, can’t say more.”

“Fine, we'll be there as soon as possible.” You look up at Bucky just as he turns to look at you. He frowns and hangs up the call.

“Sorry Sugar, guess we’ll have to reschedule the date.” 

“It’s ok.” You say as you take his hand and start walking back toward the elevator. You wrap your arms around Bucky’s midsection and rest your head against his chest. “Don’t be upset.” 

“I just wanted tonight to be special. I even had a room reserved for us.” 

You pull back to look at him. 

“Oh really?” You give him a mischievous smirk. 

“Mmhmm. I wanted you all to myself tonight.”

“We will definitely reschedule then.”

Bucky smiles and kisses you. He feels like the ring is burning a hole in his pocket. Maybe he should have asked you right before leaving the restaurant anyway. 

Everyone was already in the conference room when you walked in. Lottie and Henry were in a corner with noise canceling headphones and tablets unaware of what was going on. 

“Sorry for ruining your date guys.” Steve gives you an apologetic smile. “But trust me you’ll want to be here for this.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“As you know since the moment we found Charlotte and then Henry, Hydra has been trying to get them back. That included the trap they set up for Y/N, Sam, Clint and Nat and the one they set up for me and Steve.” Tony says as he pulls up some images on the large screen at the front of the room. “These people were responsible for developing the future winter soldier program. While most of them have died or retired, the program is still going strong. Right now their focus is getting the kids back.”

“They’ve mostly stayed underground.” Steve adds. “It’s been hard to track them but finally after all these months we have intel that they will be meeting tomorrow so we have to leave tonight if we want to get all of them.” 

“If we do that, that means it’s over?”

“No one will be after the kids anymore?” You ask hopefully as you reach for Bucky’s hand. 

“Exactly, we can get rid of this part of hydra for good.” 

“I’ll call my dad and we can go.” 

“I’m sorry but you won’t be able to go with us, Y/N.” Steve says. 

“Why not?” 

“Because Hydra has a hit out on you.” Tony presses a button on the remote in his hand and up pops up multiple communications from hydra officials wanting you to be dealt with. “Since you were the one to carry the kids out and the one to kill one of the highest ranking members in hydra you’ve painted a big old bullseye on your back. If you went with us well…” 

You sit back and nod as you realize that they’re right. If you go on this mission it will just make it easier for hydra to try and kill you. 

“Ok. I’ll stay.”

“Everyone suit up. The faster we get there the faster we can end this.”

****

“Good wuck.” Charlotte tells everyone on the team as they walk into the jet. Henry stands beside her and offers everyone high fives. 

You stood not too far away from the kids and watched as everyone got on. Steve walked up and stopped next to you. 

“I’ll keep an eye on him, don’t worry.” Steve places a hand on your shoulder. 

“I know you will, just don’t get too reckless because I’m not there to keep my eye on you.”

Steve chuckles before giving you a quick hug and walking over to the kids. Bucky’s hands wrap around your waist as he pulls you into his chest. He presses a kiss to your shoulder as you both watch Steve hugging Lottie and Henry. 

“Once this is over we can actually do things with them outside of the compound.” Bucky says.

“I’ll be making a list. They’ll be so excited when we take them out.” 

“Not too excited when they start school though.”

You turn in his arms and perch your hands on his shoulders. Bucky rests his forehead against yours.

“It’s almost over.” 

“Be careful out there.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You tell him before giving him a kiss. 

Henry and Charlotte run towards you and Bucky. He pulls away from you and grabs Henry before the latter can run into him. There are hugs and kisses for both kids before Bucky finally and reluctantly pulls away from you. With one final wave goodbye Bucky gets on the jet and you watch as it takes off. 

“Alright kiddos, let's go inside.”

“Mama can habe mobie night?” Lottie asks as she takes your hand.

“That sounds like a fun idea, sweet angel. We can get in our pajamas and get our favorite snacks and watch as many movies as we can. We can even make a pillow fort in the living room. What do you say Henry?”

Henry nods. “ Can we watch Cars?”

“Of course we can.” 

“Tonight is going to be awesome.”

“Yeah it is.”

 After an almost 10 hour flight the team had finally made it to the facility where hydra was meeting. Bucky was anxious to get this over with and go home. Home to his family to finally start a new chapter in his life. One that would begin when you said yes to his question. He couldn’t wait for that moment. 

“Gear up team, it’s time. Don’t forget the plan.” Steve says.

Everyone double checks their gear before finally starting the mission. Tony, Sam and Vision head out first as they do a fly over and lay down cover fire. The rest of the team drops down soon after while Bruce stays on the jet as back up. A small group of hydra agents fight to protect the building but it’s no use and it doesn’t take too long for the team to regroup in front of the main doors.

“Does anyone else think that was too easy?” Nat speaks up as she looks around the area. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they have all of the other agents protecting these sick sons of bitches.” 

“Just be prepared and stay focused, there’s no turning back if we lose these people now we might never find them again.” Steve says. He takes his shield and hits the lock on the door handle to break it open. As soon as it’s open everyone runs in to complete their objective.

****

Every level of the building is checked and nothing. The building is practically empty with the exception of a few agents that were taken care of easily. 

“What the hell is going on?” Sam says as he and Bucky walk into the control room to meet up with everyone else. 

All of the monitors in the room lit up at the same time. A video of you and the kids walking through the compound halls starts playing. 

“Where the hell is everyone?” Bucky asks as he looks around. 

Tony and Nat begin to type furiously on some of the computers as they try to figure it out.

“Has anyone heard from command central? I’m getting radio silence.”

“It’s not radio silence.” Steve answers Nat as he realizes what’s going on. “It’s a trap, like your first mission after we found Charlotte.” 

“Soldat.”

 “What the fuck?”

“You should have given our assets back when you had the chance.” The voice said. “I hope you had fun playing house.” 

There are several pictures of the kids playing outside from days and months prior. Bucky pulls out his phone to try and call you but there’s no connection. 

“Tony please tell me you got something.” 

Steve and Sam head for the doors but when they try to open them they can’t. 

“We’re locked in.” 

“Tony!”

“I’m trying here.” He shouts back. 

“Say goodbye to your family, Soldat.” The voice says. 

A missile hits the living quarters. It’s as if the air had been sucked out of the room as the team watches the compound get hit. 

“No, no, no, no,no. Please tell me this isn’t real.” Bucky cries out. “It can’t be real. They’re in there.”

“We’ll figure it out, Buck, but right now we have to get out of here.” 

“What if they’re gone?” Bucky watches as the footage of the explosion replays over and over again. 

“Bruce, we need your help getting out of here.”  

A few minutes later the building is practically destroyed as the Hulk smashes his way through. Everyone rushes to the jet. The whole flight Bucky can’t stop pacing. Steve and Sam try to calm him down but nothing works. He’s a mess and rightfully so. It takes halfway through the flight for them to finally have some type of connection to the outside world again. Bucky immediately starts to call your phone but it goes to voicemail. 

By the time they finally get to the compound Bucky’s worst fears are realized when the jet lands and he sees that the compound is completely destroyed. Bucky felt his chest seize as he took in the damage. Any hope he had that you and the kids were ok is gone. 

Ch. 28

Permanent Taglist:

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10 

@nalny5 

@Sturchling 

@angywritesstuff 

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions 

@almosttoopizza 

@littleseasiren 

@pono-pura-vida

@talesofadragon

@midnightramyeoncravings

@bunnygirlwriter876

@pandaxnieenke

@kandis-mom

Series Taglist:

@buckystevelove

 @vicmc624 

@just-someone11

@sjsmith56 

@emily-roberts 

@spencerriedisagorgman

@superduckmilkshake 

@samfreakingwinchester

@lofaewrites

@enchantedbarnes

@callsign-athena

@broadwaybabe18

@saranghaey 

@viperchick47

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

@da-pimp-river-niall

@ozwriterchick

@jenn-f

@rebel-soldat

@therealwritersblog

@alyroseking

@samlworld

@capswife

@oceaniamadness

@queenie32

[babyboiboyega]

Gekko Headcanons #1 : The Cookout

Pairing: Mateo De la Fuente/Gekko x Black!Gn!reader Headcanon: Taking Mateo to a family cookout would include... Content: fluff, profanity Word Count: 2.6k Author's Note: its been toooo long since I've written something, and of course my newest hyperfixation is the thing that gets me to write again LMAO gotta love it y'know? I am very new to the world of Valorant and this character, so please...if any of this seems ooc, kindly let me know. I'm still learning about him, I'm still feeling him out, but I just enjoy the character so much already. I also enjoyed writing this, so I hope y'all enjoy! <3 Tag list: @liyaawrites (aka, the person responsible for this obsession!!)

I wanna start off by saying that the second you mention taking Mateo to meet your family, the boy is geeked out of his mind. Maybe it's in passing during a conversation, or maybe you consciously bring up the topic once you feel it's the right time; either way, it’s met with wide, brown eyes that sparkle in excitement, and thick lips that part on an immediate agreement. Not only does an agreement follow, but he also immediately starts to ask what he should bring. What kind of get-together is it? Does he need to know anything beforehand? How does he need to dress, because he’ll be damned if he shows up underdressed when meeting the family of the person he loves. He only stops worrying when you tell him exactly what the function is – a cookout – and what he’s expected to bring – some dish that your mom/grandmother/auntie or other family member is requesting. And once those questions are answered, he goes straight to worrying about making sure it’s up to their standards. You have no idea why, but your family gives you and him the job of bringing the macaroni (and not any store-bought macaroni- they’ll know the difference). When he learns that it has to be homemade and that its a staple in the entire cookout, he instantly looks up recipes while thinking back to the ones his ma or abuela would use, wanting to put his own spin on it while also wanting to make a good first impression. It gets to the point where you find him up late one night, his phone’s screen illuminating his features from where he lays beside you. He’d turn his phone to you sheepishly, apologizing for the bright light and displaying a page called “how not to make macaroni and cheese” or something along those lines with a sheepish smile.

“Think they’ll like this one?” “Teo…baby…it’s 3 am.” “...you’re right, I should look for another one-”

The days leading up to the cookout are spent with him constantly going on about how excited he is to meet your family – specifically the cousins you’re the closest to and have mentioned before. In response, you warn him that your family can be…a bit much, specifically when someone brings their partner around. They have a tendency to ask too many questions, get a little too comfortable joking around, and are just all around loud and obnoxious sometimes…and he’d only reassure you with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow that not only is his family the same, but he’s so used to being around large families as his used to have get togethers all the time. He’s dealt with it before, and it'd be worth it to deal with it again if it meant he got to meet your folks. Despite the sentiments, you still warn him – especially of that aunt who always likes to make smart-ass comments and loves calling others out despite having her own problems in her life, to which he lets you know that he’s dealt with one of those and he’ll make sure that y’all are far away from that aunt at all times. He would offer to keep you dancing all night just so you had an excuse to not talk to that person, which would only lead to a conversation involving line dances. 

Despite Mateo's affinity for the punk/skater aesthetic, I’d like to think that his Hispanic roots have resulted in him having a good sense of rhythm. I also like to think that he listens to a lot of music in his spare time, fostering an appreciation for different genres. With that being said, I think our boy could keep up with the line dances. When you offer to teach him a few just for fun, he’d be excited as hell, his lips curling into a full-blown smile as he’d watch you turn the music on and scroll through the first ‘cookout line dance’ playlist you find. When you find a suitable one and try to teach him, he’d be playful about the entire thing, claiming that he needs you to do it a few times although you know its just so he can see you dance, his eyes lingering heavily on your hips as you do so. And when you finally get him to join you, you realize that he may not have the steps down, but he’s got enough swag and rhythm to keep up and look like he knows what he’s doing, which is enough. 

“One more time, princesa- I promise. I’ll get it this time.” “You’re just looking at my ass, Mateo-” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” (with a shit eating grin on his face)

Now…when it gets to the day of the cookout, you two would be up pretty early, going to get the supplies to make the macaroni before starting on it at home. He’d want to help so badly, but he’d also have no problem getting your input on it – after all, it is your family and you know how they usually like their macaroni. But he’d also insist on doing most of it himself which would result in about a few hours of him moving around the kitchen with a focused look on his face. His focus is only broken by you checking in on him, it instantly changing to a cocky, yet playful, smirk as he would nod to the pan that’s in the oven. 

“How’s it goin, baby?” “Look at that masterpiece and tell me how it’s goin, mi carino. You see that golden brown on the top, you smell that delicious, scrumptious, decadent-” “Aaaalright, that’s enough-”

You know I have to mention the process of picking out outfits. I absolutely believe that Mateo would not only be down for, but would love being one of those couples that wears complimenting outfits. Not matching completely, but maybe having one article of clothing that’s the same color or maybe even wearing the same accessories. You two have too much personality and style to limit yourselves to wearing the exact same thing when going out, so he would love to wear complimenting outfits. He’d always make sure to pick colors that you enjoy wearing despite thinking that you look beautiful in every color. 

“What about green?” “Oh…well…you know I don’t exactly look the best in green, baby.” “I wholeheartedly disagree, but we can look for something else, mi amor. No problem-”

I think that he’d be so invested in making sure y’all look good that he’d kind of forget about the macaroni that's in the oven. You can’t even blame him, because you’d be able to see the excitement radiating off of him as he gets ready, so you’d just gently, but amusedly, remind him. 

“Teo.” “Yeah?” “Your macaroni-” “Mierda- my macaroni-!”

His attention would instantly switch to the macaroni, so much so that he’d still be standing in the kitchen, his eyes on the oven when you walk in fully dressed with Wingman trailing behind you, Mateo’s shirt in his beak as he chirps and trills. You wouldn’t be able to understand him, but you don’t really have to to understand the comedic radivore’s noises. You’d only be able to nod and agree with the little guy as you both watch Mateo hurriedly throw on his shirt before taking out the macaroni. 

Now…lets get to the cookout itself. He’d hear the music and chatter immediately after stepping out of the car and would just look at you with a smile and excited eyes, offering to take the dish with one hand and your hand with the other. You’d be able to see that recognition in his eyes, the myriad of sounds that signify a family fellowship being ever so familiar to him. Homeboy would walk in the door with a wide and inviting smile, greeting people politely while also showing that he can be rather extroverted when he wants to be. Of course, he gets the typical ‘this must be yo lil friend’ from your family members, but he takes it in stride. But while taking it all in stride, he’d also make sure to kiss your cheek, your forehead, hold your hand, wrap an arm around your waist– anything to show that the words ‘lil friend’ are just a title your family members have given him, and that the truth is he’s yours. 

He’d show the macaroni to the family member(s) in charge of the food, watching with baited breath as they take the foil off of the top, their eyes looking at the golden-brown cheese on top before looking up at you two with a smile. 

“Oooh, this looks good, Y/N.” “Actually, Mateo made it. I just helped him when he needed it; it was all him.”

He’d absolutely be geeked when they turn to him with an impressed look, their smile widening as they set it on the table with the rest of the food. And if you thought he had a big head when being told that it looked good, it’s nothing compared to when the first family member comes up and tells him that it tasted good. Chile, you’d never hear the end of it…though you don’t want to. It’d be endearing and sweet that he takes so much pride in making something your family enjoys. And when it comes to him actually eating the food prepared, he would not hold his appreciation back. There’d be a lot of ‘who made this’, followed by just as many ‘dios mio’s as he can dish out. The same goes for the dessert portion, especially the homemade pound cakes from your family members. Yeah, he’d have no problem asking for a to-go box; one for food, and one for dessert. 

Throughout the duration of the cookout, he’d find himself constantly in conversation with someone from your family, whether it be because he had been pulled into a conversation, or whether it was because someone approached him with the intent of asking questions. Either way, Mateo would be game for any question asked, usually answering with an air of confidence, friendliness, and humor that made others love him instantly. When asked questions about you two’s relationship, he’d be quick and incredibly willing to answer, his eyes glancing at you adoringly as he does so with a smile on his face. It’d get to a point where you would have to ‘rescue’ him from more questions, citing that you wanted to dance just to get him away from your family member(s). And he’d happily let you pull him away, however, not before promising the uncles gathered around a table that he’d play spades with them the next round. 

At some point in the night, you’d lose him for a few minutes, coming back to his empty seat after fixing a plate of dessert for both of you, and after scouring the yard, hoping that he hasn’t gotten himself into a less than pleasant conversation, you finally find him. Except he isn’t in a conversation- not with an adult, anyway. No, he’s seated in the yard, not too far at all from the kids table, smiling widely as the kids from your family gather around him. Their hands reach for and gently run over his hair, the dyed shapes and colors instantly catching their attention as they speak over each other, asking him questions.

“Why’d you do that to your hair?” “Did it hurt? Why’d you pick spots?” “My mama says people who dye their hair like that don’t want a job.” “Can I do that to my hair?”

You’d only be able to watch in fondness for a few minutes as he struggles to answer their questions, his facial expression showing exactly how much he enjoyed being the center of attention for the kids. It would get to a point where he’d look up at you with an expression that screamed for help despite the smile still on his face, and you wouldn’t hesitate in rescuing him. You’d never seen Mateo around kids before now, but going off of the vibes and interactions you’d see, it’d be easy to come to the conclusion that he’s pretty okay with kids. Because of his chill demeanor, not only is he seen as ‘cool’ to the youngins, but he’s also easy to interact with. It would certainly help that he’s got a little crew of adorable creatures who are intelligent enough to interact carefully with the kids. There’d be peels of laughter and excited chatter as Wingman does a trick when prompted by Mateo. There’d also be a time where Wingman turns to Mateo, chirping quickly and constantly looking back at the kids…and after a short conversation between the two, he’d probably smile, nodding his head towards the kids with a ‘have fun, be careful’. That’d be the only thing Wingman needs to hear before turning and joining the group of kids in their activities, the laughter being a constant noise as long as the creature is interacting with them. 

When it gets to the end of the night and people start filtering out of the yard, he’d check in with you, asking you if you’re tired or if you still want to hang around with a look of understanding for whatever answer you give. It's only when you smile tiredly and sheepishly at him that he’d nod with a smile, telling you that maybe it's time to go. It wouldn’t be long before you two have a bag with your to-go boxes in them, making your rounds with your family members and saying goodnight. He’d leave Wingman to play with the remaining kids until it’d be time to go, waving him over once you two are ready to leave. (You can’t help but feel like you two have your own little family, and the earlier sight of him interacting with the kids certainly adds fuel to that thought). 

The ride home would be spent going over certain conversations and interactions that had happened during the night, showing just how attentive Mateo had been the entire night. You’d also learn of some of the conversations he’d had when you weren’t around…and he’d instantly wave away your apologies for the nature of those conversations, an easygoing and amused smile on his face as he does so.

“Please tell me she did not say that to you- I’m so sorry, love-” “No need to say sorry. It was pretty funny, so its okay, mi cielito. So…you tried to turn the speed all the way up on the treadmill, yeah?” “Yeah, that’s enough of that-”

To put it simply: Mateo would be ecstatic that he not only got to spend an entire day with you and your family, but that he got to see how you interact with your family. It’s truly nothing like seeing the love of your life in their safe space with people they trust. He could’ve sat and watched you speak to cousins, aunties, uncles, whoever else and would’ve been completely satisfied. He’d go to bed thinking about the glow you had on your face as you spoke to family members you’d missed, and how he’d heard and seen you genuinely laugh with cousins when recounting old stories, and how you and your family connected over food, music, and fellowship...and yeah, he’d have to admit to himself in the middle of the night, while holding you close, that he couldn’t wait to have that with you in the future.

A/N: I hope that was fun to read, it was certainly fun to write! Once again, this is my first time writing for this character that I just found out about like...two weeks ago, y'all...be patient with me while I'm learning. BUT I'm gonna really try to write more this summer because I definitely won't have time to in the fall, so keep an eye out!

[henneseyhoe]

COUNTRY LOVIN’| Cookin’ Soul

1 2 3

✮✮✮✮

Sometimes Sorie hated admitting that she was the only one who cooked, but If she didn’t cook, Buck wouldn’t eat. Unless it was something simple like an apple, or cucumbers and vinegar, the man wasn’t gonna eat. He did attempt to learn how to cook, realizing that he came from a generation that believed men shouldn’t be in the kitchen, and he wanted to change that so his daughter never thought she was only limited to catering and baring children like most older southern women thought of themselves. Of course he’s a man, so he didn’t realize it on his own, his own divorce being what led him to open his mind a little more.

Ultimately, he failed at his attempts. Some people just aren’t meant to cook. Sorie had memories from ages as young as thirteen when he would accidentally burn the chicken and they’d just have to eat rice and beans instead. She never complained though, it was still good—alright eats, plus she knew how hard he worked.

Didn’t stop her from calling her mother just to gossip about what had happened though.

Sorie would be up half of the night telling her all about dinner, the woman getting a hoot out of her ex husband not being able to do something as simple as baking chicken. Wasn’t cause she hated him or anything, she just found it funny knowing he still couldn’t cook for shit after all these years.

At the end of the conversation, Shonda would apologize for her daughter not being able to enjoy a complete meal after a long day of farm work she was basically forced to do. She wished she could bring something else over for the young girl to eat, but she was an entire hour away. It was another reason she wished she brought her only child when she left town.

It took Shonda a long time to accept her daughter wanting to stay on the farm with Buck, but she knew how much her daughter loathed the city. She thought their air was too thick and weird smelling, and the people were rude for no reason. She couldn’t take a breath of fresh air without smelling something that made her nose scrunch. Shonda agreed. She guessed she felt that way cause she’s never really been outside the low country.

Shonda honestly didn’t wanna bring her into an environment she didn’t wanna be in either, nor did she really wanna be there herself, but it was either the city or find someone to build her a house on her grandfathers land, and that would cost an arm and a leg these days. She refused to ask for Bucks help to build one either. Once she had finally gotten a deal on a home, she moved, but she felt she cried for forty days and forty nights before anything got better.

Apart from the circumstances that led her to learning how to cook, Sorie grew to actually love cooking and other activities related. She loved trying new recipes and new flavors, anything that would give people a chance to praise her on her hard work. She thought if she worked all that while, somebody better give her a compliment or two. after all, she didn’t have to cook anything for anyone and could have just worried about herself.

She wouldn’t do that though, she loved her dad too much.

✮✮✮✮

Closing the heated oven, I let out a tired huff, leaning against the kitchen counter. I had been cooking for about an hour now, and I was exhausted. I honestly wanted to just say forget it and let my father take the macaroni out of the oven, but I already knew how that would go.

My hair had been tied up into a puff to help me not get hot too quick, knowing I would have started sweating and felt disgusting by the time it was time to eat if I didn’t do it, and there was nothing I hated more than that feeling. Only downside is that my edges started to curl up, the perfect swoops being ruined. sighing, I walk out of the kitchen, heading into the bathroom to quickly get myself together.

I began refreshing myself, laying a cold towel over my face to finish cooling off my head, then I redid my ponytail.

While in the middle of doing what I felt was needed, I heard three soft knocks on the front door. I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling to the back of my head, another loud huff exiting my mouth.

‘Did people not have manners anymore? Who comes over to someone’s house, uninvited, all at 8pm? How dare they?!’ I thought, my eyebrows scrunching together as I tried to focus on getting my hair under control.

Three more knocks came after that.

“Daddy! Get the door, please?!” I shout, no response following apart from another set of knocks that had my patients, or lack there of, wearing thinner than a 35 year old white man’s hairline.

“Daddy!” I called again and sighed, attempting to toss my hair back into the puff that had failed, my hair sliding right out of the hair wrapper. I was completely irritated.

I grabbed up a brush and started brushing around the edges, hoping that’d be enough to make it stay put. The brushing was aggressive and so were the harsh bristles scratching away at my scalp. my arms were already burning from the constant flicking of my wrist, desperately trying to get that perfect puff I had earlier. It was complete sensory overload.

Tossing the brush somewhere back into my hair bin, I stretched and stretched that hair wrapper, getting it as tight as I could around my thick hair.

Then, POP.

The wrapped broke. falling into the sink as I watched it all happen. The scene replayed in my head, one in slow motion and the other in real time. Apparently my brain wanted to dramatize the already dramatic and stressful situation. letting go of my hair, I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head and stop the pressure rising in my throat.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

Knock, Knock, Knock

“DADDY!!” I yell, stomping out of the bathroom to see if the old man had made it to the door yet, and of course, he hadn’t. I jogged out of the halls bathroom and into the foyer, grunting while unlocking all the locks. “Hello?!” Flinging the door open, my eyebrows immediately knitted together as I looked at the pair of men, both faces looking like different versions of each other. Another embarrassing moment to add to the books, remembering how my hair probably looks right now. “Umm, can I help y’all?” I ask, my hand immediately going up to fluff out my hair into a decent afro instead.

“Well, if dinner is ready, then yes!” Tony beamed happily, but my question was aimed more so for Trevante, as if him being with his father was a surprise. “And you?” I averted my eyes to Trevante, a bit of attitude in my voice. “It’s like that, huh?” The man mumbles, relaying the same attitude while ignoring my question and pushing passed me to walk into the house.

My face conceals the emotion I felt, but I really wanted to push them right back outside as they walked right passed me. “Finally y’all got here!” My father exclaims, coming down the stairs while finishing up with tucking his button up into his pants. Tony laughs and daps the man up with a hug to go with it, Trevante just giving him a handshake.

I shook my head at the scene and closed the door. “It would have been nice to know we were having guests” I say, crossing my arms. It was like I had whispered, neither of the older men turning or stopping their conversation to hear what I had to say. It stung.

I turn on my heels and walk into the kitchen to save me from saying anything I had no business saying because it would have for sure rose the dead with all the profanities waiting behind my lips.

While checking on the food, I hear laughter behind me, making me pop my head up from the oven. “You were just too cute as a baby” Trevante speaks, holding a picture of me when I was three. In the picture was me and my grandmother picking flowers from a field behind her house. We went back there almost every Sunday evening to do that, but with old age and her health on the line, we slowed down. We haven’t picked any flowers since I was a teenager.

I gasp and drop my oven mittens, speeding over to him with intentions to snatch my possession away, but he quickly held it over his head, his hand reaching and touching the ceiling. “Where’d you find that?!” I struggle to grab it from him.

“Where you think? Your room”

My eyes widened. If this was a cartoon, steam would have blown out of my ears right then. “You went in my room? How’d you even sneak in there?” I sneered. He obviously found humor in my agitation and confusion.

“Easy. My pops never pays attention, and yo’ daddy is blind” he smiles childishly and I suck my teeth. I stood on my tippy toes, even jumped a few times to get the picture back, but to no avail. “Give it!” I say, backing up from him and holding my hand out. he shakes his head, dangling the picture above my head.

“Trevante, give. It. Back. No-”

“Or what?” He interrupts, stepping to me. The smile on his face was wiped clean off as he stared down at me, my knees getting weak. I leaned on the kitchens island me, our eye contact never breaking from there.

I didn’t know what I would do, but I knew what I wanted to do. He chuckles at my silence. not even a breath from me being heard, but I was definitely breathing, taking in the sweet, yet spiced scent of him.

“Say please, ma”

Talk about a tease. Only thing that could get him to stop was the new feel of a presence behind him, interrupted by the two other men suddenly walking into the kitchen. I took my chance and jumped high enough to snatch the picture from his hand, then push him away from me, turning back to the stove.

“Woah! Y’all bet not be scrappin in THIS house like y’all two strangers” Tony said, raising an eyebrow at us.

“You only said that cause my baby would win” My dad says, Tony kissing his teeth. “Oh shut up. You just better be lucky I don’t got no daughters!” Tony argued, sitting at the dinner table, the two others following behind him. “Lucky?! They would have inherited yo’ skinny ass arms!”

“Skinny?! And what would you say bout Trevante, huh? The boy built like John Henry!” They all bursted into laughter and I chuckled, beginning to turn off all of the stove eyes to prepare plates.

“We all know he got all that muscle from Chrissy strong ass”

“Aye, man! That’s my momma you talkin’ ‘bout” Tre interjected, Tony shaking his head. “He only saying that cause my ‘strong ass’ wife decked him senior year for calling her fat”

“Man, my ears was ringing after that!”

Interrupting their trash talking by sitting the plates on the table, I set mine down first, then everybody else’s. I’ll be damed if I slaved away in the kitchen for them to get the first plate. I put Trevante’s down last, smiling proudly at my presentation. Macaroni, string beans, brown rice, and baked chicken. I knew exactly what he liked on his plate, and the proportions he needed to fill him, as I did everyone else’s.

“Thank you” He thanked simply, his hand softly grazing my thigh under my skirt, making me suppress a soft moan. Was I that touch deprived? Probably.

I smiled softly, sitting down next to him, a little hope in the back of my mind that he’d do it again.

“Babygirl, this looks amazing” my father compliments, Tony humming in agreement as he takes a bite of his chicken. “Y’all actin’ like it’s a surprise that she threw down in there” Trevante says, doing a quick prayer over his food before digging in.

“Right, y’all got me thinkin I lost my magic touch for a moment” I joked, starting to eat. “Never” Tony shook his head, licking the juices from his chicken off his thumb.

✮✮✮✮

“Tell that one story, buck! You know what I’m talking about!” Tony shouted, Buck shaking his head and dismissing him with the wave of his hand, knowing the story would never end if they started it. “No, Tony! Leave me alone!” It had been an hour after dinner and both the older men had spent that whole time roasting each other like usual, drunk on whatever Buck pulled out of his old cabinet.

Sorie looked between the two loud men, her head cupped in her hands as she half listened to them go on about whatever for the passed hour. Trevante, on the other hand was even less interested in whatever they were talking about, tired of hearing about their egotistical trips when they were his age.

“Sorie, you don’t know the story of how yo’ daddy got his name?” Tony questioned, leaning into the table intriguingly as if she had said something interesting. Smelling all the alcohol on his breath, she leaned back, not wanting to get a whiff of anymore.

“No? I’m supposed to?” She questioned, again half interested.

“Lemme tell you!” Tony shouts, excitement lacing in his voice. Sorie held in a loud laugh, rolling her lips inwards to stop it from slipping out and interrupting the story. Trevante sighs and takes a sip of his water, already knowing where this conversation was headed since he had heard the story 100 times before.

“Now everybody know Jeremiah got a big ass forehead like he got antlers attached to the muhfucka, but that ain’t why we call him that, so I digress! but listen,”

Tony started, laughter immediately being heard around the table.

“Not the government name” Sorie, giggled, Buck playfully hitting Tony on his arm as he continues the story without missing a beat. “Growin up, we was hardheaded. We wasn’t soft like some of this new generation, and Buck was the worst out of all of us!”

“I wasn’t that bad, don’t make it seem like that” Buck interrupts with his argument, which Tony disagreed with.

“You were horrible! You busted that boys head wide open for a damn bill you thought he stole, just for you to find out the fifty was in yo’ damn pocket the whole time!”

As Sorie listened to the story, she feels Trevante tap her leg, then pull on her skirt, attempting to get her attention. She looks over at him and he makes a gestured nod with his head for her to follow his lead, so she did. Getting up without another word for the current conversation, the two walk outside, neither of the other other men bothering to ask where they were planning to go since they were too busy debating on whether their actions back then were justified or not.

“Yo’ daddy sure can talk a head off” Trevante speaks, sitting on the porch steps. Sorie closes the screen door behind them to avoid letting in any unwanted bugs, then sat next to him, straightening her skirt over her knees. “Tuh, I know you not talkin’. Yo’ daddy just spent fifteen minutes talking about Cadillacs and the 80s for no reason” Shaking his head, Trevante starts to chuckle, and Sorie could just feel that he was gonna say something condescending about himself or something completely out of pocket. “His favorite typa truck, and his favorite decade before I ruined the fun”

Sorie looks at him with no expression, Trevante just he shrugging, taking a pack of cigs and a lighter out of his pocket. “Don’t say that, Tre. It’s not right, and it’s not true”

“Just cause it’s not right, don’t mean it ain’t true” he says bluntly, tucking the cig between his lips and lighting it up. She makes a face of both sadness and disgust. Disgust for the pack of cigs, and sadness for his attitude towards his relationship with his father. Sorie always tried to stay off the topic of Trevante’s iffy relationship between him and his father, but lately it seems to find it’s way into their conversations, plaguing whatever good vibe they had going. He always maneuvered around telling her too much about it, and she tried not to pry it out of him out of respect for his comfortability and boundaries. It’d been that way since their teenage years.

When they were up, they were up. Most likely because of some huge accomplishment Trevante had came across, but when they were down, they were separated so they wouldn’t kill each other. Right now, they seemed to be alright. Aware of their situation, but uncaring of it considering they were use to the behavior of each other. She felt bad for him, meanwhile he felt bad for her and the dynamic she had with her own father.

“Okay…” She whispers and gives up on the topic, looking down at her sandals. He takes a pull from his cigarette, then blows the smoke up into the air. Sorie’s nose scrunched at the smell of the smoke.“Yuck” She shivered childishly and covered her nose.

She hated the smell of cigarettes. It reminded her of before her grandmother stopped smoking for her health, the same cigarettes being the reason for her lung problems now. Her grandmother always shooed her off while she smoked, but Sorie’s argument was she could still smell it through the door of her room.

Trevante looks over at her with slight displeasure, rolling his eyes. “Oh please, Sorie” he says, Sorie shaking her head as he uncaringly took another puff. The more her nose burned from the smell, the more she got fed up with his disrespectful habit. Disrespectful to both himself, and her nose. “Jesus gave you a shiny new body twenty five years ago, and you’re killing it right now” She argues, grabbing the cigar from out of his mouth and throwing it to the side, staring at him. The man looked back at her with an equal amount of disrespect, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Little girl, you must be outta yo rabbit ass mind” He squints and she looks away, still feeling his dark eyes on her. Shivers crawled up her back like a cluster of spiders as the breeze of warm wind picked up around them, though that wasn’t what caused her shivers. It was really his choice of words to call her a “little girl”. She might’ve hated that more than the nasty look he gave her.

She stares off into the swaying field of sweet grass, unmoved by his irritation. “I’m not a little girl, and I hate when you smoke” she says with no attitude, yet it still had a very large presence in her words.

“And I hate when you tell me not to smoke. now yo’ rude ass owe me another cigarette” he shot back instantly, her head swiftly turning back to him so she could give him a mean mug. She was more than willing to go get a switch off of a tree and whip him like her grandmother did, if he pushed her to it.

“It’s bad for you, Tre! Seriously!” he shakes his head at her, hesitating to close the carton of cigarettes.

Her face softens with a pout, making him kiss his teeth, tucking his pack of smokes back into his pocket.

“Fine, damn” He huffs quietly and she smiles, now satisfied.

‘If only he’d listen like this all the time’ She thought.

The silence of her victory stood for only a few seconds before he started to snicker, switching his sitting position and leaning his back against the porches railing. She raises a brow at him, confused. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…You care about me” He smiles, becoming his playful self once again. She blows off at his assumption and laughs, waving him off with her hand.

“Whatever, boy. I just don’t wanna see you croak from lung cancer at 40. Dark, but very, very true, and don’t think I forgot about you having asthma”

He lets out a hearty laugh, clapping his hands together. He wasn’t surprised at all that she remembered that detail about him. Trevante recalled how Sorie use to press him like she was his mother back in middle school for not packing his inhaler for gym class, but since growing up it had calmed down immensely.

“Just say you care about me! No shame in that. I wanna hear you say it, actually”

Rolling her eyes, she couldn’t help but agree. Mostly because she knew he’d never let it go until she gave in and confirmed what he always knew. “Okay, damn! I care about you and your lungs, who cares?” She fussed, softly pushing him, which his strong stature barely moved from.

“I do! It’s adorable”

He compliments, but all Sorie did was cringe. She let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “Adorable?” She repeats and he nods. “Yeah..like, cute.” joking as if she didn’t understand the meaning of “Adorable”, he nudges her arm before noticing her quick mood change. studying her facial expressions for a moment and it’s obvious resentment of the word, he hums. “Oh, You don’t like that word…”

She shakes her head. “No, not really”

“Why not?”

Shrugging, she sighs. “I dunno. Makes me feel like a child, I guess”

He hums once again, nodding. “Mm, right. You a grown woman” he teases and she smiles, nodding. “A grown ass woman” she reiterates, snapping her fingers with playful sass.

“I see that. A fine one too..” He says, causing her to pause, all the sass she just had leaving her like it saw a storm coming. The new look on her face amused him. He loved how timid she became around him when he said certain things to her. One minute she was cool, and they were just two friends talking, the next they both thought about something a little deeper.

She’d had been called fine many times before, but when he said it, she felt different. like there was more to it than a simple compliment from a friend. Those same butterflies that loved fluttering around in her tummy made a grand appearance for what felt like the millionth time today, getting her all warm inside.

“Stop it, Tre” She looks away, her ears getting hot. He keeps going though, scooting closer to her and bursting her personal space bubble. The longer she waited to speak again, the closer he got until his lips were nearly grazing her ear. “You blushin’ for me, Sorie?” He queries, his voice smooth like velvet, vibrating her body. She felt like electricity ran through her with how he enunciated her name.

Letting out a sharp gasp, her thighs closed in on themselves, the girl jumping up out of her spot and brushing her skirt off. Clearing her throat suddenly, she looks down at the man who had such a cocky grin on his face. It heated her knowing that he knew just what to do with and to her, and yet barely did anything.

Thinking of something else to say, she crosses her arms over her chest. “Anyway! It’s getting late. Take your drunken father and get off my property, please and thank you” Sorie states firmly, but Trevante could see right through the act.

He laughs, standing up as she walks back into the house to avoid any more conversation of the night, afraid it’d end in something a little more eventful than him just whispering in her ear.

✮✮✮✮

[luveline]

hey!! i hope you're having an amazing day <3 for the valentines day prompts could i request a platonic "you’re my family too." for roan and the reader

luveline's valentine's mini party ♥︎

thank you for your request! eddie and roan tw burns | fem!reader

Eddie burns himself at work, an angry stripe of red blistered skin up the length of his forearm. He goes to the ER, and he gets everything dressed properly. His arm hurts really bad, but he's not in any danger of infection as long as he's clean and careful. 

Roan thinks he's gonna die. 

To be fair to her, it must've felt a little traumatic for her to get picked up from school by you instead of him, and then to be brought straight to the hospital. You'd done a really great job at looking after her while he was getting looked at, you'd been more calm than he or Uncle Wayne, that's for sure, but you're no miracle worker, and you'd cried. Roan had seen Eddie in a hospital bed with his shirt cut off and bandages wrapped around his arm and burst into tears herself. No amount of vending machine treats had helped.

Eddie's home now, he'd barely been there for the night, and though it's past Roan's bed time you're all awake at the kitchen table. Roan lies against Eddie's chest, refusing to leave him for even a second since she sat down, and you're making mac and cheese. 

"Roanie, Roanie, macaroni," he sings quietly, hand buried in his daughter's soft curls. "Where'd your macaroni go?" 

She doesn't sing along. Her nose stabs him in the ribs. 

"I'm really sorry about dinner," you say. 

Eddie tips his head back. "Why, angel?" 

"I mean, I'm sorry I didn't get dinner for her when we were in the ER, or you, I was just so worried. It's no excuse, but–" 

"Woah, hey, what? You don't have to be sorry. I don't think any of us were thinking about dinner."

You're moving fast at the stove, tipping the saucepan of mac and cheese into three different bowls. He notices you giving yourself the smaller portion and promises to make it upto you eventually. His poor girl. 

His poor girls. 

"I just don't want Roan going hungry," you say.

Eddie frowns, because he doesn't want that either. 

"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" he asks, moving his head down to talk near her ear. 

She nods and sits up. She's concerningly quiet, and Eddie decides enough is enough — he's gonna cheer his baby up if it's the last thing he does. He turns her around in his lap and aeroplanes her food though she's probably too old. He does voices, he kisses her cheek, he bounces her on his knee and shouts, "Earthquake!" until she's giggling and begging him to stop. 

You don't pepper up as Roan does. He plops her down in his seat to use the bathroom, and he hears your quiet tones as he returns, pausing by the stairs. 

"I'm really sorry, Ro," you're saying.

"It's okay," Roan says. 

"No, it's not. I didn't mean to scare you today with daddy, and I'm sorry I wasn't being as brave as you deserved." He hears you sniffle. "I didn't mean to scare you," you repeat. 

"You didn't scare me," Roan says. 

"No?" 

"No," she says. 

"Can I have a hug?" you ask.

Eddie steps quietly into the doorway to watch you embrace her. She climbs into your lap and hugs you tightly, her chubby cheek pressed to your chest. You hug her and you look so miserable that Eddie feels his heart break for you. He has no clue why you're taking today this hard. He thinks you must've been more terrified than you'd let on. 

"I'm supposed to look after you," you murmur. "You and Eddie, you're my family." 

"You're my family, too," Roan says. 

You make a sound like you've been punched. "I know," you say. 

You kiss her forehead and push her away from you gently. 

"I'm glad I didn't scare you, baby. Thank you for being so brave today. I'm so proud of you." 

Eddie grins at the way Roan puffs up. He slips into the room and rest his good arm across your shoulders, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he squeezes you. He rests his nose against your cheek. 

Roan's not the only one who was brave today, he thinks. Then, Christ, I'm getting soft. 

"You looked after us just fine," Eddie says, standing up. "Now you gotta look after yourself and finish your dinner, sweetheart." 

Roan nods with a sense of urgency. "We need juice," she says decidedly.

"And you need another tramadol before bed," you say to Eddie. 

He sighs in relief. His arm fucking kills. If he didn't have his girls he'd be rolling around on the floor. 

[she-walks-on-starlight]

Can u write some fluff and comfort for grayson.

i would appreciate it <3

Of course! Thanks for the request - ✨

Duty Bound

a/n: added in some hurt/comfort and a slight touch of angst for this one, it's just how the story came to me :) my requests are still open, send me your ideas I'd love to hear them 😊

Warnings: almost break-up, arguments, feelings of neglect

Summary: Grayson has been busy with work, and you're starting to feel tired of coming in second. When you deliver an ultimatum, will it make or break your relationship?

Word Count: 2k

“I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on, y/n, and I want to spend my days and my nights making you happy. I will do anything you ask, will take you anywhere you wish to go as long as I can come with you. Just please say you’ll be mine, and nothing could possibly make me any happier.”

A beautiful memory.

You sighed as you packaged the baked macaroni cheese into Tupperware containers and labelled them before putting them in the fridge, yet another dinner you’d eaten alone.

Your cat, Whiskers, wound himself around your legs and staring reproachfully at you with his wide, green eyes. Rolling your eyes, you filled his feeding dish and put it on the floor for him, earning a grateful squeak. You scratch just behind his ears, when you hear the lock turn in the front door and the heavy thud of your girlfriend’s work boots as she finally arrived home.

“I’m home, beloved! Oh, do I smell cheese?”

She appeared in the kitchen archway, her Enforcer jacket slung casually over her shoulder and her pristine white shirt unbuttoned to just above her cleavage. You fix her with faux annoyed stare.

“You do smell cheese…I’ve just put your dinner in the fridge.”

Grayson huffs, running her hands through her messy, silver streaked locks. “I’m so sorry, my love. There was a situation in the Undercity that required my attention.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “I suppose I’ll have to let you off then, won’t I? Sit down, I’ll warm up your dinner.”

She obeyed, sitting at your small table as you warmed the macaroni cheese and started a spinach omelette for her lunch the next day. Grayson started unlacing her boots, lightly smacking your ass whenever you passed her because she knew it made you blush. Whiskers however soon realised she was home and pawed at her laces until she lavished him with attention. She looked tired, and you knew she must’ve had a very busy shift. It seemed with every week she was the Chief Enforcer more lines carved their way into her handsome face.

“I swear, more and more Shimmer is being pumped into the Undercity and we still haven’t got a single idea on how, or who is behind it all. Every factory I shut down, two more pop up to replace it! Not to mention how many Enforcers I’m losing to those Shimmer crazed thugs! I’ve had to inform three more wives of their husbands’ deaths today! Three!”

You kiss her cheek and run your hands through her hair, massaging the nape of her neck to help her relax. “I think you need a break, Gray.”

She groaned with pleasure at your ministrations but scoffed at your words. “If I take a break, I think the entire station will collapse.”

You tried to remain bright, placing her meal in front of her and grinning as she dug in eagerly. “Well…maybe we can do something this weekend? Maybe go to that little vegan café we both like?”

“Sorry my love, I can’t. I volunteered to lead a seminar on firearm maintenance on Saturday, and the Council wants me to make an appearance at the charity gala on Sunday.”

“Oh, a gala! That could be fun, it’s been a while since we’ve gone to one, I’ll have to see if I can dig out one of my old dresses…”

Grayson swallowed, eyeing you apologetically. “About that…I’m sorry. I’d like nothing more than to have you on my arm, but as I’m there to represent the Enforcers, it wouldn’t please the Council.”

You try to keep your breathing even, turning back to the stove and flipping the spinach omelette carefully.

“So, I’m not going to see you this weekend at all?”

You hear the scraping of her chair and close your eyes to prevent tears from falling as strong, broad arms wrap around you and the scent of her fresh, citrus cologne fills your nose as she kisses your cheek and your neck, her short curls tickling your face.

“Please don’t be too upset, my love. I have a duty to the people of Piltover.”

You sighed, your entire body filling with leaden disappointment. You were so sick of this. “And what about your duty to me?”

Grayson pulls away from you, her mouth agape. “What do you mean?”

Your hands ball into fists. “This apartment is haunted by you, Gray! I’m only graced with the presence of your shadow!”

“My love, I-”

“You’re always working, and when you’re not at work, then you’re at the gym! It’s like you have no time for me anymore! You’d always rather be doing something, anything else, than spend time with me, your girlfriend!”

Grayson crossed her arms. “That’s not true. My work is very important, beloved. I cannot simply drop everything to indulge in personal leisure.”

“But your work doesn’t have to take over your entire life, Gray.”

Grayson’s eyes were like liquid steel, sharp and cold. “My work IS my life. I have spent years, decades getting to where I am now! I thought you understood that.”

Your chest felt tight, your whole body felt stiff, and a prickling heat was coating your skin. This was a losing battle. Grayson was a woman of honour, a paragon of justice and was bound to her duty. Serving and protecting the people of Piltover was her lifeblood. That would never change, perhaps could never change.

“Then I think I should stay with my sister for a while.”

Before Grayson could reply, you turned on your heel and headed into the bedroom, burying yourself under the duvet and letting your salty tears burn into your face.

The next day had gone by in a blur. Grayson hadn’t been in the apartment when you’d woken up, so you assumed she’d gone into work early. Weary from working so late, but pleased you were able to complete the wedding cake on time for that lovely couple, you stabbed your key at the rusty lock in your apartment door until it finally clicked open and allowed you entry.

The apartment was dark and silent, but you expected that. Grayson was either at her office or she was hitting the gym. Again. The satisfied high from working at your small bakery was ebbing away, leeched from you by the depression radiating from the walls that had once surrounded you with love and warmth. You were too melancholy to cook, so you order chilli oil noodles from your favourite takeout place and trudged into the bedroom.

Opening the wardrobe, you were greeted with several Chief Enforcer uniforms, all starched and ironed to perfection, the belts and buckles gleaming proudly in the dim lighting of the bedroom. You carefully pushed them aside, not wanting to crease them and reached for your jumpers hanging beside them. As you folded them, you tried to ignore the sharp aching of your heart which only intensified when you pushed Grayson’s uniforms back into place on the rail.

You were pushing her out of your life.

You growled internally at the intrusive thought. Grayson had pushed you away first, now you were just letting yourself fall from the impact. If this is what Grayson wanted, then she would reap what she had sown.

On the bed lay your frayed duffel bag, beaten up from the many camping trips you and Grayson took. Used to take. It was open, the soft material hanging apart like a mocking, laughing mouth. However, as you approached it to put the jumpers inside, there was a folded piece of paper that wasn’t there when you’d left for work. As you opened it, you gasped as you recognised Grayson’s efficient scrawl.

Giovanni’s. 7pm. Wear the red dress. Please come.

Your eyes widened. Giovanni’s, a small Italian restaurant where you’d had your first dinner date with Grayson. The red dress she mentioned had been the one she’d slowly peeled you out of that evening, the first time she’d ever touched you like that. It had been the perfect night. Your heart fluttered at the implications of the note. Did she want to recreate that night? Or was this the final goodbye? Glancing the clock, you quickly put on the dress she requested and touched up your makeup before dashing out of the door and hailing a cab.

When you arrived, the waiter smiled knowingly and led you to the private terrace which was lit with candles and fairy lights. There was only a single table, by which Grayson stood wearing a crisp, black dress shirt, matching trousers, and a red paisley tie exactly the shade of your dress. She pulled out your chair for you as you sat, somewhat dazed, and kissed your knuckles before taking her seat opposite you.

Her eyes were serious, her forehead creased with stress. “I came home at lunchtime. I wanted to surprise you, to apologise for my recent behaviour…but I forgot today was one of your workdays. Just another way I’m failing you as a partner, I suppose.”

You reached for her, entwining your slender fingers with her larger ones, the warmth of her hand travelling up your arm and into your chest. “Gray…I-”

“I saw the bag.” Her voice was a whisper, the dreadful confession staining her lips with sadness. “I realised then, that you meant it when you said you were leaving. You were absolutely right. To have driven you to this, it’s unforgivable.”

You can feel your own heart swell at her words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you take in your forlorn lover, such a great, upstanding woman reduced to despair, her eyes pleading and so very remorseful.

“Gray, I do understand-”

Grayson silenced you with a gentle finger to your lips. “Please, my love, I need to tell you. You are the sun that wakes me at dawn, you are the stars that watch over me at night. You are the beat in my heart, the reason I thrive. I love you more than anything I have ever even comprehended. To neglect you this way, is the greatest pain I could have ever inflicted upon myself. You are why I work so hard, so make sure you will always be safe and never have anything to fear. But you were right, I let it consume me. It almost cost me everything I hold dear.”

It's everything you’ve needed to hear, and it takes every shred of your emotional self-control not to burst into relieved sobs. “Gray, I love you. Your sense of honour and your need to fulfil your duty are all part of you, and I love you even more for having these qualities. I just want to be able to share my life with you and know that you’ll always want to come home to me, see me, be with me.”

Grayson leaned forward, cupping your cheek. “I want for nothing more. My soul sings when I am with you, and you alone, beloved.”

Then she kisses you, and it’s just like the first time all those years ago. She cups your face with her warm hands and wipes away any tears falling, her soft lips caressing yours with care and reverence, the two of you pouring your deep love for each other into a kiss that’s been a long time coming.  When you break apart, you’re sure you are blushing, and Grayson’s look of pure adoration warms you from the inside out. You eat a beautiful meal and as you stand from the table, Grayson ceremoniously gathers you in her arms, bridal style, making you squeal with surprise and delight.

“Hey! Gray! What are you doing?”

She nuzzles into your neck. “We are going home. I have a weekend of pampering to spoil you with.”

“But what about your weekend obligations?”

Grayson kisses you, tender and slow. “Marcus is leading the seminar on Saturday, and I’ve informed the Council that I will not attend the gala. They will likely not miss the Enforcer representation anyway. Now come, I have many plans for this evening and many of them involve much less clothing. Shall we?”

Sighing contentedly, you rest your head on her shoulder as she carries you away. “Let’s go home.”