#he was nicer than my mother so he was always my favourite

[running-in-the-dark]

shit I think I've just admitted to myself for the first time that I kind of hate my dad

[autisticlancemcclain]

“You’re nervous.”

“Hnnngh,” Keith says, knuckles white on the steering wheel. He looks straight ahead, left leg bouncing, hair pulled back into a ponytail but flyaways everywhere. He keeps having to push up his glasses when they slide down his nose, nudged forward by all the tension in his eyebrows. “Being stressed before a stressful situation is not being nervous, Lance, it’s just my brain responding like a brain.”

Lance hides a smile. “You’ve met my family before, baby.”

Keith slows to a stop as they approach their turn, looking at Lance instead of the road for the first time in twenty minutes. His indigo eyes are wide and pleading. Lance is distracted by the tiny mole beside his nose.

“I’ve met your mom,” he says emphatically, breaking eye contact with Lance to crane his head to the left, checking over the hill for any cars. He’s far more careful than he needs to be — there’s never anyone on this road. But Keith is always endlessly careful when he’s driving other people around. “I’ve met your siblings. I’ve met your abuela. I’ve met the twins.”

“Mighty number of people,” Lance agrees. He looks at his boyfriend pointedly. “All of whom love you.”

“Because they love you,” Keith stresses. “You’re, like, their favourite person. You hyped me up so of course they have a nicer view of me. But this is like — your great grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles and, I dunno, second sister in law five times removed —

“Not how that works,” Lance interjects, amused.

“—and now I gotta impress them all? At once? I still don’t know how I did that with everyone else! I panicked! I forgot all my lines and conversation starters! I just — was awkward, and they were cool with it because your family is cool!”

“Ah, yes, you were yourself and people liked you,” Lance says, nodding sagely. “How bizarre.”

Keith looks at him imploringly. He has a — really cute nose, holy shit. It’s crooked from the three separate times it’s been broken and Lance is kind of obsessed with it. All he can think about is pressing a kiss to the bridge of it and watching how Keith will crinkle it on reflex. He has to fight back a giggle.

“I am going to get eaten,” Keith says miserably. “My luck is going to wear out. I’m gonna say something stupid and offend your third cousin or trip over someone’s toddler and destroy your mother’s flan by crashing into the table and upending hot coffee on an elderly person. Then I’ll get arrested for assault and you’ll have to visit me in prison and my cellmate will make a comment about you or something and I’ll have to kill him and then I’ll get retried and the death sentence, probably, and then Red will bust me out of prison and cause intergalactic meltdowns and —”

Lance can’t hold back anymore. Quick as a dart he reaches out, fisting Keith’s collar, and yanks him over the gearshift, kissing him softly and soundly until Keith sighs, surprise fading into something calmer, relaxed. His hand comes up to cup Lance’s cheek.

“You need a Xanax,” Lance says gently as he pulls away.

Keith huffs, the manic look in his eyes replaced with something much softer. Relieved, even. “Yeah, probably.” He tears his eyes away from Lance, rechecking his turn and finally actually putting on his blinker and moving onto the right road. His free hand reaches over the gearshift and Lance grabs it, tangling their fingers together and resting them in his lap. “I just — I want your family to like me.”

Lance smiles, a wide one that brings a flush to his cheeks and makes him shy, even though he’s not self-conscious; a smile that makes something flutter so intensely in his stomach that it feels so intensely private.

“They’ll like you,” Lance says simply.

Keith exhales. His hand tightens. Lance squeezes back.

The rest of the drive is easy.

———

By the time they make it to Lance’s great-grandmother’s farm, he can tell that some tension has crawled back into Keith’s shoulders. But he’s always been brave, when fighting dictators or meeting parents, and doesn’t hesitate to pull into the gravel driveway and park the car. He squeezes Lance’s hand again before letting go, stepping out of the car and heading to get their stuff.

“Tío! Tío!” scream two voices, and Lance doesn’t even have half a second to brace himself before Nadia is launching herself at his stomach. He manages somehow to spin them both around to offset the momentum, keeping them both upright. Keith is not quite so lucky — Lance hears a slam, a startled oof, and then he sees their bags go flying out of the corner of his eye.

“Jesus Christ,” Keith wheezes, flat on the ground with Sylvio crowded on top of him.

“I got you!” the boy crows, scrambling off Keith’s body in order to adequately dance around in victory. “You went splat!” He whirls around to face Lance, still dancing around. “Tío Lance! Did you see?”

Lance adjusts Nadia on his hip, making no attempt to hide his amusement. “I did. You got him good, buddy.”

Beaming, Sylvio turns back to Keith, who’s finally managed to get enough breath back in his lungs to stand.

“You got me good,” he wheezes in approval.

“Just like you showed me!”

There’s no mistaking the smugness in Sylvio’s voice, the challenge, the I’m-little-you’re-big-and-you’re-a-loser.

Keith recognises the challenge easily, eyes glinting, and before Sylvio can run away Keith scoops him up, tossing him over his shoulder and whirling them around ‘til he’s dizzy.

“Just like I showed you, champ. Think you can get out of this one, though? It’s easy!”

Sylvio shrieks, pounding on Keith’s back with fists weak from laughter. Nadia squirms in Lance’s hold, so Lance sets her down, and in seconds she’s run and attacked Keith’s other side, climbing up his legs to try and free her brother. Keith scoops her up, too, throwing her over his other shoulder as she laughs just as shrilly.

“Clearly neither of you learned very much!” he shouts, grin so wide it practically splits his face. His already precariously dangling glasses slide right off his face but Keith doesn’t even spare them a glance, stepping over them easily and shaking the twins as he goes. “You’re trapped!”

It doesn’t take the bright twins very long to unite forces, attacking Keith with renewed vigour all at once. Lance bends down as they wrestle, scooping up Keith’s glasses and their discarded bags.

“He’s good with them,” Lisa says, sidling up beside him and sliding her hand around his waist. Lance mirrors her, squeezing.

“He thinks they’re hilarious. He loves them to pieces.”

“Believe me, they love him too. I heard about Uncle Keith so much on the drive down that I was tired of him before you two even got here.”

Lance snorts. “Yeah, right, dweeb. No one else here reads Jane Austen. You need your nerd buddy.”

“Indeed,” she says, grinning. She pats him on the hip, pulling away and taking one of the bags slung over his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get your stuff dropped off. Marcela will want to fuss over you, I’m sure. She hasn’t seen you since your last mission.”

Lance looks back at his boyfriend before following her, making sure he doesn’t need Lance’s help. The twins have wrestled him into doing their bidding, it looks like, or more likely he didn’t even put up a fight, and sit on one shoulder each, guiding him around the property with shouts and points and frenzied gesturing. Keith has his hand locked firmly over each set of knees, careful not to let them fall, as he wobbles around to make them gasp and laugh.

Lance smiles. He’s fine.

———

Keith finds him within the hour, Nadia and Sylvio off to play with their cousins.

“You abandoned me,” he pouts, hand wrapped around his elbow.

Lance notices, idly, that he’s slouching again; that his ponytail has been abandoned entirely and his hair curtains his face.

Hm.

“You were busy being a doofus,” Lance teases, brushing his hair out of his face. He nobly resists the urge to quote Regina George. “One of us has to be the mature one. We wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong impression about the saviours of the universe.

“You’re hiding out on a random couch on your phone,” Keith deadpans. He glances down at the screen. “You’re watching a seven year old vine compilation. On mute.”

“Like an adult,” Lance says primly. “Watch with me.”

Keith rolls his eyes fondly, but slides on the couch behind Lance, arms wrapped around his waist and chin hooked over his shoulder. Lance digs in his pockets until he finds Keith’s glasses, twisting around to slide them on his handsome face. His hands linger on Keith’s temples. Keith’s smile is small and crooked and bares the tiniest peek of crooked incisors, and Lance’s heart flutters.

He leans back into Keith’s chest as he plays the video, watching a compilation of dorky videos he’s seen a thousand times. He feels Keith’s grin press into the juncture of his neck as he starts to mumble along. His hand rests just under Lance’s shirt, flat on his stomach. Lance fights the urge to squirm.

You Are In Your Abuela’s House, he reminds himself firmly. Your Ancestors Are Watching You. And Jesus, Probably.

Luckily, someone calls out their names before Lance really needs to find a vat of ice water to dunk himself in.

“Leandro! Keith! Come eat before your hog of a brother takes it all!”

The two of them don’t even need to pause for a moment before throwing themselves off the couch, scrambling towards the kitchen at top speeds because Marco absolutely will eat their portion of the food. Not even because he’s hungry for it, just because he’s a butthead who thinks it’s funny.

“This is your fault,” Keith informs him, careening around a questionably placed side table.

“Nothing is ever my fault ever in the entire universe,” Lance shoots back.

(Is it Lance’s fault? Possibly. But in his defense, the several years he spent as a child waiting for Marco to be distracted before eating his favourite thing on the plate still make him crack up when he thinks about it. Marco just got so mad, every time. Plus his eyes bulge a little when he loses it. How was Lance ever supposed to avoid poking that bear?)

Luckily, they make it in time to wrestle a plate away from Marco’s snickering ass.

“Keith, Lance,” Lance’s mother greets warmly before Lance can crack a plate over his brother’s head. “I’m glad you made it!”

“Mother,” Lance squawks dramatically, hand flying to his chest, “I am the second to be greeted? You’re son? You’re youngest angel? The one who went missing for several years and returned to you, prodigal?”

She reaches over and flicks Lance in the forehead. Keith snorts. Marco cackles.

“Keith called me on the flight home,” she explains, ruthless. “So he is the son, and you are the son-in-law.”

Keith flushes as he always does when Mamá pairs them like that, when they’re both her sons, when she implies what it implies. Lance lets the warmth of that expression soak into his bones, deep in through his back, from every point Keith is touching him.

“I was sleeping off being maimed!” Lance despairs.

It does him no favours. Mamá waves her hands wildly, setting down her own plate in favour of placing her hands over her ears. “Gah! Sh! Do not tell me of these things! I am meant to pretend your job is nothing more than ornamental! Do not ruin that for me!”

“It was the slightest ever maiming,” Lance mutters, sullen.

Keith visibly bites back a retort to that, no doubt out of respect for Mamá.

(Lance knows that Keith would have been the world’s biggest mama’s boy had he grown up with Krolia. He has shared this hypothesis with Shiro, who had laughed so hard upon hearing it that he had sprained a muscle in his neck, and then explained later with a heat pack and a wryly smiling Adam that Keith used to scold Shiro for pushing himself with exact quotes from Shiro’s mother herself.)

“Nobody ever wants to hear my side of the story,” Lance laments.

Keith bends down to kiss him on the cheek.

“That’s because you are a liar,” he says kindly.

Lance catches his chin before he can pull away, kissing him to shut him up.

They head outside to join everyone else, plates stacked high with food and plastic cups balanced precariously with spare fingers. Keith starts to slouch again as they walk out the sliding screen door, but he keeps his hair out of his face, eyes flitting between different people. It helps that hardly anyone spares him half a glance, too used to random new people in such a big family.

“Hey, Patito! Over here!”

Lance whips his head up at the familiar voice, breaking into a wide smile when he sees his sister’s wilding waving hand. Keith, too, seems relieved when he catches sight of Veronica, rushing over almost faster than Lance is.

“Hey, losers,” she greets, flicking water from her cup at them as they sit across from her. “Took you long enough to get here.”

“Lance is a distraction and danger to the road,” Keith says immediately, because he is a snitch. He is also unfortunately very quick and manages to duck away from Lance’s pinch.

Veronica snorts. “Believe me, I know. Every ride back to the Garrison on weekends was a near death experience because he kept smacking me every ten seconds. A menace.”

“You manipulator!” Lance accuses. “I slapped you because you teased me! Constantly!”

Keith and Veronica share sharp, matching grins. Lance takes a nanosecond to ponder what he ever did to deserve the sufferings of their friendship.

“That’s because you’re so goddamn easy to rile up, sweetheart,” Keith says with a wink.

Lance attempts to shove him off his chair. Unfortunately, while he does flail backwards, he manages to stay upright.

“You two were supposed to hate each other,” he mutters into his congrí. “This friendship thing is bullshit.”

Neither believe him for a second.

They’re barely into their meal when the nosiness starts. In fact, Lance is honestly surprised it has lasted this long. Luis probably said something to convince everyone to tone it down, because he is a saint and also Lance’s favourite.

“So,” says his Aunt Vena, “…Keith.”

Keith freezes, cheeks bulging. Lance tries very hard not to laugh at him.

“Hi,” he says, swallowing. He says nothing else and looks agonized about it. His memorized conversation starters have no doubt fled his brain.

“You know, I feel like I already know you,” jokes Aunt Vena, never bothered by awkwardness. Or boundaries. “I only see Leandro a few times a year were the only thing he talked about for ages.”

Lance goes pale. Oh, please God, no. Please let Aunt Vena be suddenly gifted with the ability to read Lance’s mind, or at least notice him waving his hands frantically behind Keith’s head, making cutting motions at his throat.

“Keith this, Keith that. Keith Keith Keith.”

Lance cradles his face in his hands. So much for miracles.

“He did?” Keith asks.

“Stop investigating immediately or you’re sleeping on the floor tonight,” Lance threatens under his breath. Keith’s hand finds it’s way to his thigh and rests there, as if laughing at him.

“Oh, yes,” laughs Aunt Vena. “Every other word was about how you sat in class or walked in the hall or flew your planes. He was always angry about it, but he was quite focused on you. Oh, and your hair.”

Aunt Vena turns away to chatter with someone else like she didn’t just ruin Lance’s life. Lance would hate her if he didn’t find her so goddamn loveable, but he does, so instead he looks up and suffers Keith’s wide, shit-eating grin, and ponders deep in his heart how he will re-humble his boyfriend so they’re back on even ground.

“…You were big on the hair, huh.”

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll chop it off as you sleep.”

———

“Keith.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You dorkbrain.”

“I’m just saying!”

Keith’s hair is in a knot at the crown of his head, glasses pushed all the way to his face. He’s got Lance’s hand in his but he’s not paying attention to him in the slightest — he cycles between leaning back, then forwards, then craning his neck and shifting his eyes. Every few seconds he lets out a muted gasp.

A group of children run yelling in and out of the house, heedless of doors and stairs.

“You are such a mother hen,” Lance says with great amusement.

Keith is too distracted to even roll his eyes. “Some of them are very little,” he says worriedly. “Maybe they should play a game outside. There’s more space.” He looks around at the various adults sitting and chatting, aghast. “Should me maybe get a — pool noodle, or something? Just for the corners. So there are no head injuries. That’s the most common way they happen, you know. Tripping during play.”

Lance hums, leaning into his side. “Reading a lot of parenting books, are you.”

Keith is very deliberately silent. Lance flicks up his gaze to watch his face redden.

“…Akira.”

“It’s Shiro’s!” he says defensively. “It was — he had it on the shelf! I read it when I was younger! It was traumatizing! Do you know how easy it is to fuck up a kid? Very easy, Lance! Their heads are very squishy! They don’t know balance yet! They repeat everything you say!”

“Was this book,” Lance starts, choking back laughter with everything he has, “perhaps about raising toddlers?”

Keith’s jaw snaps shut.

“Children under two? Hm?”

Keith glances away. “It didn’t mention.”

Lance loses his battle, burying his cackling in Keith’s shoulder.

“How was I supposed to know that ‘A Guide To Raising Healthy Children For New Parents’ was about — babies? Shiro was the dumbass who had it!”

Lance laughs harder. “Did he — did he buy it when he —”

Keith puts his head in his hands. “He bought, like, forty books when he first started fostering me, they were all basically the same, he’s such a dumbass —”

“Stop, stop,” Lance begs, grasping his aching stomach. The image of Shiro, twenty years old, panicking after impulsively deciding to apply to foster the delinquent who stole his car, frantically googling advice for new parents only to unknowingly receive information about toddlers is the best mental image he’s had in a while. He’ll have to share with Pidge and the rest of the Holts the second they get home.

“You’re such a butthead,” Keith grumbles, but it’s half-hearted. His attention is still mostly on the way Mateo, Lance’s four year old second cousin, very nearly brains himself on the corner of the brick entryway trying to swerve away from his older sister. Keith’s sharp inhale would have been comical if Lance didn’t feel his own heart drop.

“Okay,” Lance concedes, “maybe it’s time for a new game.” He pats his boyfriend on the knee. “You’re up, champ.”

“Wait, me?” Keith asks, bewildered. “You’re their cousin.”

Lance shrugs. “You’re the worried one. Plus, I want to go get wine drunk with Rachel. Mamá said she just got here. She’s been avoiding my calls all week which means she has Information to share and doesn’t trust herself not to tell me immediately. I have to know what’s up.”

Keith still doesn’t look convinced. “But I’m a stranger to them, basically.”

“So start with Nadia and Sylvio, dummy. Once the rest of the kids see a cool newer and accidentally safer game to play, they’ll join fast. Plus, the stranger aspect is intriguing, probably. You’re like a new toy.”

To solidify his point, Lance calls his niblings over, gesturing to Keith. The twins light up, immediately abandoning whatever they’re doing — trying to shove a sleeping Luis’ finger up his own nose — to sprint over to them.

“Tío Keith has a game for you two,” Lance whispers conspirationally.

The twins burst into howling cheers.

“Game! Game! Game! Game!” they chant, each grabbing one of Keith’s hands and tugging him away.

Keith looks back at him, panicked. Lance blows him a kiss, then turns back into the house to go hunt for his sister.

She finds him first.

“LANCE,” she shouts, whipping around to face him. Lance immediately shifts backwards slightly, knees bent, legs widened, arms held out protectively in front of him. He smirks. She matches it.

She charges.

She aerials into a heel kick, as always, aiming for his skull. Lance back handsprings out of her reach, careful of the various relatives around him, who are well used to their brand of bullshit and don’t even pause their conversations as they lean away.

He comes back up just in time to throw up a block to her fists, aiming a kick to her stomach that she can’t fully dodge. She gets him right back, though, like she always does, aiming a sweeping kick for his ankles that he has to flip on his hands to avoid.

“It’s good to see you, fucker,” she pants, roundhouse kicking the dip of his waist.

“Likewise, asshole,” he grunts, grabbing her ankle and flipping her to the ground. She drags him down with her.

They’re both grinning.

“Tomorrow morning we box for real,” she proposes as they lay there, getting their breath back.

“Deal,” he agrees.

By the time they finally get back on their feet, they’re both parched, and since they also make frequent poor decisions, they head straight for the bad boxed wine. Lance pours them both heaping glasses and Rachel guides them to an open lawn chair, which they both sprawl on, a hundred percent in each other’s space.

“So,” Rachel says, chugging half her glass, “my grades are in. I’m graduating top of my class.”

Lance gasps. “Rachel!”

“And,” she continues, building up suspense with a grin, “I got word back from all my residency applications.”

Lance thinks he might explode. He remembers them when they were little, huddled on the floor of their bedroom at one in the morning, glow sticks guiding their planners, mapping out heir lives together. Where they would go to school, when they would bother with dating, how they would do it all together. Lance, best pilot to come out of the Garrison next to Shirogane. Rachel, the first surgeon to successfully transplant a brain.

“I got in,” she says, beam so wide it forces her eyes shut. “Lance, I got in!”

“Rach!” he screams, eyes blurry from tears and heart full to bursting. “Rach!”

He wraps his arms around her shoulders and squeezes, weeping with joy and elation and buzzing from his head to his toes. This is what Rachel has wanted since she was old enough to talk. This is his sister, his first and best friend, getting everything she has ever wanted, as she has always deserved.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!”

She squeezes him right back, her own tears wetting his t-shirt. Her relief is palpable, and Lance knows it, the indescribable feeling of finally crossing that goddamn mountain, finally getting what you’ve been working for for longer than you can remember.

“Everything is falling into place,” she says softly, pulling back and holding up her cup. Lance laughs and clinks them together.

They settle back into their shared chair, too happy for words, gathering themselves. Lance catches his mother’s eye and returns her soft smile, wine making him warm and happiness making him bright. He feels like he’s swimming in sun-warmed water.

He settles back with a sigh.

Rachel nudges him. “Hey, Loverboy. Look.”

Lance follows her pointing finger. Away from the tables and lawn chairs, in a wide, open space, there’s Keith — surrounded by every single child on the property, ordered in neat rows. Each of them has a hefty stick, held carefully in their hands, watching Keith with great intensity. Keith himself has his bayard out, stretched out in a battle position, back straight and shoulders loose. He has the same bright look on his face that he has during Lion training, or riskier missions. Excitement, steadiness, and a hint of cockiness that has Lance shivering. He demonstrates a move, and with a single minded focus, the children repeat it.

It has always been impossible not to want to be a part of everything Keith does, Lance has found.

“…You kind of scored,” Rachel observes.

Lance’s laughter is breathy, high-pitched. “Believe me, I know.”

There’s a rousing shout from the kids, then a cheer, then Keith shouts, “Ready?” and at their raucous response, chaos breaks out. Sticks are strikes and parried and children throw themselves dramatically on the floor in pantomimed deaths, scrambling to their feet seconds later to get back into the fray. Every few seconds Keith calls out rules and reminders, weaving through the children to point out places for improvement or congratulate someone for doing something right.

“I have never seen them all gathered this long without any crying or fighting,” Rachel says, something like awe in her voice. She pauses. “Well, real fighting.”

Lance smiles, something small and secret and over which he has no control. He catches his boyfriend’s eye and waves, which is returned at twice the enthusiasm.

“Keith’s good with kids,” he says quietly. To himself, he wonders if it’s possible to have a heart so full it bursts.

———

The blankets are scratchy but warm, and Keith smells as he always does, and Lance is half asleep. But the words come leisurely out anyway.

“You awake?“ he whispers, words tucked into the spot above Keith’s heart.

Keith hums. Lance feels the rumble of it in his cheek.

“Barely.”

His eyes are too heavy to keep open, so he lets them slip shut. He breathes deeply the smell of his boyfriend’s body wash, and traces meaningless patterns on his chest with his fingertips, breathing slowly, taking his time. He might fall asleep, but that’s okay. They have time.

“‘M glad you came, today.”

Keith’s breathing is slow and even, just like Lance’s, but he can feel the heavy weight of his gaze, those indigo eyes.

“I go where you go.”

Lance quirks his lips. The blankets rustle softly as Keith slowly slides up his hand, encircling his fingers around Lance’s wrist, palm resting on his forearm. After a minute Lance can feel his heartbeat, at the same time that he hears it, head pressed to Keith’s chest. “You’re good with the kids.”

Keith’s breath stutters. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I like them. And your family.”

“Told you.”

“Yeah, you did.” He’s silent for a minute, palm heavy on Lance’s skin. “I wanna — do this, Lance. Forever.”

Lance turns his head slightly, just enough to press his lips to Keith’s sternum. “I will love you until the end of time.”

He feels Keith’s smile, sweetening the air.

“I love you, too.”

[wordyneonlights]

'And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you'

Welcome back to the inner workings of my mind!! This has been STUCK in my head since yesterday and I've finally gotten it all out. UGH.

Anyways, hope you enjoy this... whatever this is.

1.3k words by the way

You've made a mistake.

No... mistake is too small a word. Mistake is using salt instead of sugar; using the wrong 'there' in an essay; texting the wrong number; telling your mother anything about your love life

This was not a mistake, it was more accurate to say that you had royally fucked up.

Like the ginormous idiot you are, you'd gone and fallen in love.

And even that wasn't accurate enough, falling created the expectancy that you were going to be caught. You had crashed and burned into love if you wanted to get specific with it.

It hit you last week, when you were washing the dishes with him, hips bumping, silence you could sleep in surrounding the both of you.

You thought to yourself: 'I really wouldn't mind doing this everyday forever,'

Then you dropped your plate in the sink at the shock of your realisation.  Eliciting a laugh from him as he poked you with his elbow.

'You all right there?'  He had asked

And you laughed and nodded

'I've got an essay due tomorrow is all,'

'We can always pull an all nighter, run to the corner-store, put something scary on and speed run it,'

'My knight in shining armour,'

'And my favourite dragon,'

You'd rolled your eyes and he laughed making you laugh too and it had just been such a comfortable moment. So warm and safe, and you'd gone and ruined it all by falling in love.

The thing was, you wouldn't have minded as much if it hadn't taken you this long to even be friends with him.

He wasn't necessarily the most open person. A lot of people thought he was hostile, mean... you didn't think that.

OK fine that was a lie you had thought that, but you'd also bothered with getting to know him and he turned out to be the most sarcastically funny, kind, sweet, annoyingly handsome, person you'd ever known. But it had taken you two years to get to that point. And he hadn't dated anybody in the time you knew him.

You'd asked him once, if he was interested in romantic relationships, and he'd looked at you funny.

'Yeah,' he'd said, ' I'm just not looking right now,

'Aw, why not?'

'Tryna graduate first' he'd said poking your nose and shifting your face away from him

'Darn it, I thought I'd have a shot,'

Your heart had been hammering at that point, you had a crush on him by then but it wasn't exactly love, not yet.

He had given you a look but had been interuppted before he could say anything. You both didn't talk about it again.

You wished wholeheartedly that you had never met him (lies) or that you had at least, never fallen for him (more lies).

You were scheduled for one of your routine hangouts, at the local bar. Usually some of your other friends would have joined you but they had all bailed.

Maybe the universe was giving you some sort of sign? Maybe this was your chance to confess. You were quieter than usual as he drove you to the bar, staring out of the window.

"You alright?" he asked

"Uh huh," you responded

"We could always watch a movie or something, we don't have to go out,"

You nodded not really registering, his cologne smelt nicer than usual today, but then he always smelled nice.

"Are you sick or something?"

' Lovesick maybe,' you thought in your head.

"I mean don't get me wrong I appreciate the silence, but it is weird when you’re not annoying me about something,"

You rolled you eyes before smiling coyly, "Just admit you like hearing me talk," you said and he scoffed

"Never mind actually I preferred the quiet,"

You took this as a challenge obviously, and began chattering to him about the latest drama surrounding your favourite comic.

"So the fight's getting tense right, but he's got this super powerful being on his side but then his legs get sliced off and he has to jump into the god he's fighting and he almost gets devoured but then it gets eaten by his wall but then the wall eats his mom and-"

You rambled on before your voice fizzled out. You wanted to stop talking before you said something you'd regret. Besides, you were at the bar already.

You walked inside and sat on one of the outside tables. You sat in silence for about ten minutes, absently sipping your drink so you wouldn't talk.

Maybe if you confessed while drunk you could play it off as not that serious, at least it would be out there.

"Ok, what's the problem," he asked finally, and you raised your eyebrows

"What?"

"Are you sick? Did one of your 'faves' die again?"

"What, I-"

"Did that couple you were rooting for break up? Did you fail another paper?"

"Hey-"

"Are you-" his face blanched and your stomach dropped. Had he somehow figured it out? Your mouth went dry and you tried your best to look normal.

"Are you pregnant?"

...

...

Your mind went completely blank as you registered his face before you burst out into laughter.

"Pregnant?" you wheezed doubling over, "You think I'm pregnant!!"

Your laughter was so obnoxious you were getting weird looks but you didn't care. The absurdity of it all had you rolling.

"This is what i get for caring," he'd said blushing slightly after you had calmed down save for a few giggles every few minutes

"I can't believe you thought I was pregnant,"

"You weren't giving me much to work with," he muttered, "I was getting worried,"

"Rest assured i am not pregnant,"

Just hopelessly in love with you is all.

"Then what's wrong?" he asked, tone more serious

You hesitated, he was annoyingly perceptive. Maybe there was a possibility he already knew you were in love with him and was waiting for you to confess. Were you willing to take that chance?

"Just got some unexpected news is all," you said picking your words carefully

"Good news or bad news?"

"I'm not sure yet,"

"Well... as long as you’re not pregnant,"

"Why do you care so much?"

"I can barely deal with you and your period hormones," he teased rubbing his arm when you smacked him, "Pregnancy hormones would be a whole different beast,"

"Whatever, you’re stuck with me anyway,"

"Stuck with you huh?"

Your heart was drumming in your chest and you took another sip of your drink.

"You know... " I started, "There is actually something I wanted to say,"

"I think we've already established that,"

You felt queasy, and cleared your throat. You could feel yourself sweating as you built up your courage.

You have to say it, if not now then when? You can't be the sort of person who lives in regret, you can't be the kind of person who's scared of big conversations.

You steeled yourself, bringing your head up and looking him firmly in the eye.

"I love you,"

There, it was out, you'd said it, it was in the air, out in the open, the frequency of your voice had been registered as vibrations in his ear, he had heard you. You could tell because of the slight raise of his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I love you too, is that what you were so worked up about?"

You should have been happy, relieved almost but you weren't, your stomach twisted itself and you let out a shaky breath.

"No I mean I love you love you. I think you're one of the most amazing people I've ever met, you make me laugh, you make me feel seen and I want to be with you as more than just friends. I love you in the way that they talk about in poetry and I can't keep hiding it from you anymore,"

You stopped talking eyes still on his.

You couldn't read his expression, his face had gone pale and his eyes were wide.

"I'm sorry," he started and your heart clenched, "I don't feel the same way,"

Oof, glad I am done with this. Just wanted to put it out there I suppose. Not sure I had a person in mind for this when I wrote it so I'll probably just tag a bunch of fandoms or whatever. Hope you enjoyed!!

Title is from the song: 'Something Stupid' by Frank and Nancy Sinatra

[sequinsmile-x]

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Twenty Five

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends!!

As always, thank you so much for the love on this fic! This chapter is another heavy one, but I promise I'll be nicer to them in the next chapter.

Please let me know what you think, your reactions genuinely mean the world to me!

-x-

Words: 3.3k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along. Please note that more warnings have been added.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The car journey to her mother’s house is silent. 

Aaron keeps looking at Emily as he drives, his eyes continually flashing towards her as she stares out the window, one hand up by her mouth as she bites her cuticles, and the other on her stomach, subconsciously protecting their unborn child. In the week since she told him about Elizabeth’s relapse, he’d caught Emily looking at and touching her small bump even more than usual, as if the new cracks in her relationship with her mother made her think of her own journey to motherhood. He was worried about her but was trying not to push her, well aware that she often processed these things by herself. 

It was only the night before when she’d said she wanted to go speak to her mother. She’d thought about calling her or trying to arrange another dinner, but they both knew it was unlikely Elizabeth would see it through, leaving them with no choice but to just show up. 

“We’ve never had the kind of relationship where I drop by unannounced,” Emily says as they pull into Elizabeth’s driveway as if she could read his mind, “I’ve often wondered what that would be like.”

He chuckles humourlessly as he turns off the engine, “I never had that with my parents either,” he admits, he looks her up and down and he reaches over to touch her stomach, “Things will be different with Jack and this one though,” he assures her, pleased when it draws what feels like the first genuine smile from her in days. 

“We’ll always make sure we have their favourite snacks in the pantry, just in case,” she says, her chest warm just at the thought of it. She looks back out the window at the house that had never felt like home and she blows out a breath, her heart dropping into her stomach. 

He notices the change in her demeanour, the brief flash of her peeking through gone as soon as it appeared, and he sighs, fury at his soon-to-be mother-in-law licking at his insides. He pushes it down, knowing what Emily needed right now was his love for her, not his anger.

“We don’t have to do this now,” he says, his hand drifting from her stomach to gently squeeze her thigh, “I can just take us home.” 

Emily smiles at him and places her hand over his, linking their fingers together, “It’s not going to get any easier whether we do it today or next week,” she shrugs half-heartedly, “We should just get it over with.”

Aaron knew it was her decision, that it was her mother and their complicated history on the line, so even though every instinct in his body was telling him to protect her from this he knew she wouldn’t thank him for it. He watches her carefully, looking for even the slightest sign that she wasn’t sure about doing this, well aware that if he found it he’d turn the car's engine back on and drive her home. 

He leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek, “Ok, sweetheart.”

He moves to pull away, to press the button to release his seatbelt, but she stops him, her hand tight around his, “Please don’t…” she drifts off, hesitating because she doesn’t want to sound desperate. Her first instinct even after all her time with Aaron was to shy away from help, to turn in on herself, no matter how much she wanted him with her. She clears her throat and smiles tightly at him, “Just don’t leave my side, ok?”

Aaron smiles at her and lifts their joint hands to his lips to kiss her knuckles, “Of course, I won’t,” he kisses her hand again before releasing it, “It’s my favourite place to be.” 

She shakes her head at him, but he’s out of the car before she can gently chastise him and he opens her door before she can even unbuckle her seatbelt. She links their fingers together as soon as she’s standing and tugs him in for a kiss, squeezing his hand when they pull back. 

“I love you so much.”

He gently guides her towards the front door of her mother’s house, “I love you too, sweetheart. And I’m here no matter what happens.” 

She smiles gratefully at him and blows out a steady breath before she rings the doorbell. It only takes a few seconds for the door to be answered, and they make polite conversation with Elizabeth’s housekeeper who goes to find her for them. As they stand waiting in the foyer of the house she had lived in when they were in the USA, Emily can’t help but look around, the space almost foreign to her. There were no photos on the walls, no evidence that a family had ever lived there. She knew there were photos of her in her mother’s office, hidden away from public view much like Elizabeth’s love for her had always been, but that didn’t make her feel any better. 

Sometimes, she wondered why her parents had her at all, whether she was merely the result of them doing what was expected of them. 

“Emily, Aaron,” Elizabeth says as she walks towards them, “This is a surprise.” 

Emily looks at her, critically looking her up and down to look for physical evidence that she had been drinking, “Well, you kept cancelling so I felt like I had no choice but to just show up,” Emily explains. 

“Emily, you look…healthy,” Elizabeth says, and Emily has to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She knew her mother well enough to know what that meant, similar comments throughout her teenage years still ringing in her head every time she tried on a new pair of jeans even all these years later. 

“Well, I am pregnant, Mother,” she replies, watching as her mother’s eyes flash with something a little too close to surprise as she looks her up and down. She feels anger spark in her belly, irritation she knows won’t help as she realises her mother didn’t remember she was going to be a grandmother, and she knows it means her mother would have been drinking when they had that conversation. The sadness she feels, the grief for a relationship she would never get to have with her mother, stokes the fire that had been burning inside of her, making her sigh, “I told you on the phone weeks ago.” 

Aaron puts his arm around Emily at the sound of resignation in her voice, squeezing her hip to remind her that he was there, that he always would be. 

“Emily wanted to talk to you about something important, it’s why we didn’t call first,” Aaron says, encouraging the conversation forward. 

Elizabeth nods, recovering quickly as she smiles at her daughter in a way Emily had seen at countless parties and events.

“Of course,” Elizabeth says as she leads them to the living room. She takes a seat in her armchair, and Emily and Aaron follow suit - sitting together on the couch, “So, what did you want to talk about?” 

Emily is grateful that Aaron is sitting right next to her, their thighs pressed together on the couch, and for the calming presence he always seemed to have over her.  “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me,” she says, sounding more sure than she felt. 

“Well, spit it out, Emily,” Elizabeth says, her eyebrow raised, “It’s not like you to mince your words.” 

Emily takes a steady breath and clears her throat, giving herself a moment before she once again changes her relationship with her mother, “Are you drinking again?” 

The silence that settles over them is thick and uncomfortable as mother and daughter stare at each other, the history they never spoke about unravelling around them. Elizabeth takes a moment before she fixes a smile on her face. To anyone else they wouldn’t see the momentary panic she pushes down, the way her eyes widen ever so slightly, but Emily sees it. They were things she did herself when she felt backed into a corner. 

Things she did when she was lying. 

“No, of course not,” Elizabeth replies, her shoulders getting tighter as she sits up straighter, her eyes flicking back and forth between Emily and Aaron, “How could you ask me that?” 

Emily shakes her head, closing her eyes as she blows out a breath before she carries on, “Dave Rossi saw you drinking wine at an FBI fundraiser two weeks ago.” 

Elizabeth sighs, her facade cracking, “Can we talk about this alone?” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Aaron says, his voice sterner than he intends it to be, and Emily places her hand on his leg, a silent request to leave it to her. 

“Aaron knows everything, Mother.” 

Elizabeth looks furious as she looks at her daughter, “You told him my personal business?”

“It’s my business too,” she replies, scoffing, “And funnily enough he has seen the scar.” She doesn’t feel the need to explain that she’d told Aaron about this before they even got together. His presence comforting to her even then, something she now knew was love stitching them together before either of them could admit it. “You’re drinking again,” she says, not phrasing it as a question this time, “Please don’t lie to me.” 

Elizabeth stares at her for a moment before she settles back into her chair, “Fine, yes,” she admits, and a breath escapes Emily, harsh and painful as it catches on every rib on its way out, “But it’s not a big deal, I have it under control.”

“Not a big deal?” Emily exclaims, her control of her emotions waning, the situation she had feared for years combined with her hormones making her feel on edge, “Mom, you’re an alcoholic.” 

She hates that she feels like a kid again, like the 17-year-old who once found her mother passed out in her office, an empty bottle of liquor in the trashcan next to her desk. She tightens her grip on Aaron’s leg, her nails digging into his skin through his jeans as she desperately tries to hold onto something to keep her grounded. 

Elizabeth chuckles, “Emily, please, you’ve always been so dramatic.” 

Aaron sits forward, ready to defend her, but Emily moves her hand to his chest, holding him in place, “Dramatic? I donated you some of my liver,” she says through her teeth, her eyes wide, “You…you said you’d never drink again.” 

She watches as her mother sighs, rolling her eyes, “You always have to bring that up, don’t you?” 

It’s as if she feels everything all at once. Every disappointment. Every missed dance show or piano recital. She sees the empty seats at high school and college graduations and the confusion on her classmate's faces. She hears the chastisements and criticisms she had grown up with when all she wanted was love and encouragement, causing her to seek it elsewhere in places that had only done her even more harm. She feels all the sadness she hadn’t allowed herself to feel when she gave up everything to help her mother without so much as an actual thank you in response.

Mostly, she feels the anger she had never acknowledged, overwhelming as it takes over and forces her to stand up, her control over her body and brain no longer her own.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She asks, shaking off Aaron as he stands up too, his arm around her shoulder. 

“Emily, really-”

She cuts off her mother as she continues, unable to stop now she had started, “We never talk about it. I’ve never brought it up again even though every time I look in the mirror I’m reminded of it. Of what I sacrificed to save you,” she feels tears burning down her cheeks, her fury taking a physical form, “And the fucked up thing is, I’d do it again because you’re my mother and I love you,” she shakes her head and wipes her cheeks, the heels of her hands rough against her skin, “But I can’t do this, I can’t sit back and watch you destroy yourself and everyone around you. Not now. I won’t put myself or my children through it.”

Elizabeth stands up, “Emily-”

“No,” she says cutting her mother off, “No. I’m done. If you decide you want to stop and you want help I will be there to help you find it, but until then don’t call me because I won’t answer.” 

She leaves the room without looking back, sure that if she did her tears would turn into gut-wrenching sobs she can feel building in her belly, pushing against her diaphragm and compressing her lungs. Aaron watches her go, his eyes fixed on her until she disappears, the sound of the front door slamming echoing around the house. He looks at Elizabeth and watches as she puts herself back together, eerily similar to how he’d seen Emily do it countless times. 

“We both know she deserves better than that,” he says, unable to stop himself from saying something.

“Please don’t try and tell me about my daughter.”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he walks towards the hallway, pausing as he makes it to Elizabeth’s side, “She’s the mother of my child, she’s going to be my wife, I love her enough to make sure she doesn’t get hurt,” he stares at her, his glare unrelenting, “Can you honestly say you do the same?” He watches as Elizabeth clenches her jaw, averting her gaze, “That’s what I thought.” 

He walks away, desperate to find Emily, to make sure she was as ok as she could be, but he’s stopped in his tracks. 

“Aaron-”

“I’ll look after her,” he says, not turning back, “I’ll look after them,” he adds, referencing the grandchild she hadn’t remembered existed, and he carries on talking as he walks away, calling over his shoulder, “It’s what they deserve.” 

___

The journey home is filled with her tears. A grim soundtrack he’d rather never hear again, his hand in hers the entire way. She asks to be alone when they get home and, despite his own desire to keep her close, he lets her go upstairs by herself and keeps himself busy in the kitchen, making her dinner he knows he’s going to have to convince her to eat. 

A couple of hours pass by before she heads back downstairs, the outfit she’d worn to her mother’s switched to a large t-shirt of his and a pair of shorts. 

“I’d ask how you are,” he says, rounding the kitchen counter to pull her into a hug, something she returns gratefully, “But that seems like a stupid question.” 

She chuckles half-heartedly into his chest, “I was expecting this to potentially be an outcome but…I didn’t want it to go this way.” 

“I know, baby,” he says, kissing the top of her head before he pulls back to make her look at him, “Want to talk about it?” 

She nods, and links her arm through his as they walk the short distance to the couch. They snuggle up together and she leans against him, her face pressing into his shoulder to heave in his smell, his cologne no longer turning her stomach as it had in her first trimester. 

“She forgot I’m pregnant, Aaron,” she says quietly, shaking her head in disbelief, “How do you forget something like that?”  Aaron knows there isn’t anything he can do to make her feel any better, that there is no answer to her question, so he just lets her carry on, lets her put into words what she would have spent her time upstairs thinking about. “She just…doesn’t seem to care. I haven’t even met our baby yet or felt them move, and I know I’d never…” she drifts off, her voice catching in her throat, “I’d never treat them, or Jack like that. Or speak to them like she spoke to me today.” 

“I know you wouldn’t,” he says, placing his hand on her stomach, her bump hidden by his t-shirt.

“Why doesn’t she love me enough to not do this, Aaron?” She asks, linking their hands in his lap, “Why was I never enough?” 

He pulls her closer until she’s all but in his lap, and he holds her tight, wishing he could make this better for her, that he could make Elizabeth see sense, “You are enough, and you know it’s not that simple sweetheart. Addiction is…messy.” 

She hums at the oversimplification, but nods, grasping his hand tightly, “Thank you for today, I know it can’t have been easy because of everything with your father.” 

He holds back a chuckle, knowing it would be inappropriate, brought on by her incessant empathy. Her need to look after the ones around her even when she was the one in pain. 

“Like I said earlier, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right next to you,” he replies, turning to kiss her forehead. 

“I’m going to need you to do something for me,” she says, idly playing with his fingers, measuring their size in comparison to hers. 

“Anything,” he promises without knowing what it was, aware he would pull the stars from the sky if she asked for them. 

“If she calls…if she tries to reach out before she is looking for help, I need you to keep me in check,” she says, looking up at him, “I can’t go back on my word with this otherwise she won’t ever get it.”

He nods, leaning in to kiss her before he answers, “Of course, whatever you want, sweetheart.” Her response is a smile and she rests her head back on his shoulder. They fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments before he asks something that had been on his mind since they left Elizabeth’s house. “You said ‘my children’ when you were talking to her earlier,” he says carefully, trailing his hand up and down her arm, “You meant Jack too, didn’t you?”

She sits up, concerned that she’d overstepped in her moment of anger flooding through her. She’d always been clear about her place in Jack’s life. She loved him, and she knew she wouldn’t love her own baby any differently, but with how everything had been with Haley, especially with the rapid changes her and Aaron’s relationship had been through, she had always carefully chosen her words when describing their family.

“Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“Sweetheart, no,” he says, cupping her cheek as he cuts off the apology he doesn’t need or want, “That’s not why I said it. It’s nice. Jack is lucky to have another parent who loves him as much as you do.” 

She bites the inside of her cheek to try and stop her smile, insecurity still bubbling in her chest. She couldn’t help but wonder if Haley would feel the same way, but she shakes it off for now, allowing herself a moment of kindness after so many days of heartache.

“Really?” She asks, her hand covering his on her cheek.

He nods, “Really. You’re a fantastic mom, Em. Our kids are lucky to have you.” 

She chokes out a noise that she knows is more of a sob than a laugh, and she leans forward to kiss him, able to convey more with that than she would ever be able to do with words, before she settles back into his embrace. 

She had grown up thinking her family was broken. Parents who didn’t particularly seem to care for her or each other, an absentee father and a mother whose priority was anything but her daughter. Despite that, and despite the fact she had never been taught she was worthy of better, of unconditional love, she had found it with the team, with Aaron and Jack and she would make sure she continued the pattern with her unborn child. 

-x-

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[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Vetinari for the character ask game? :)

ahhhh everyone's favourite dictator.

First impression

I read Hogfather first, and so I didn't think much of him at all. Downey left way more of an impression on me, obviously. Then I read Guards! Guards! and I thought him mildly entertaining, though perhaps a bit boring and predictable.

Overall, I think my takeaway was: What a stupid nerd, love that for him, but he should be more of a weird freak.

(Do I have Downey's approach to Vetinari? Possibly.)

Impression now

I'm not sure my impression has changed too much. While Vetinari does change a bit as a character over the series (though in the last few books he's pretty OOC, in my opinion), it's not distinct enough of an arc for me to really alter my opinions on him.

(tbf I do stop accepting canon at a certain point, because there are some books of Pratchett's that shouldn't have been published because they weren't up to standards due to the whole mental decline. Let him write all he wants, just don't publish them. Jesus.)

Like, Pratchett doesn't write deep characters for the most part. Vimes and Granny have depth to them - but they're POV characters so I would hope they have depth. But side characters, not so much. Which is reasonable, you know. Pratchett was writing satire and pretty basic political commentary, he wasn't doing character studies or deep literary explorations.

So, I think Vetinari is a fun spoofing of the stereotypical villainous dictator wherein he's still a dictator but he's not terrible. He's sort-of benevolent. (He still has a scorpion pit and has Problem People assassinated and locks away others who he likes but doesn't want out in the open for various reasons i.e., Leonard. Still very much a tyrant - don't get on his bad side or you'll disappear. But he's nicer than Snapcase and Winder. Low bar but he crosses it.)

I like that he's very weird and has an idiosyncratic sense of humour. That delights me. Also his fastidiousness and clear foibles and ticks are charming. That he refuses to leave treats on Wuffles' grave that Wuffles didn't like in real life is a nice detail on some of the innter softness that is in him.

That said, he can be a hard one to get into the interiority of his head because he's so...untouchable, in a certain way? He always has a trick, he always has an answer, he is always able to turn a situation to his advantage no matter what to an implausible degree, etc.

Like, Vimes I understand. I can get into his head. Same for Angua or Carrot or Downey or Sybil. But Vetinari is on the harder side. I can do it, but it's not as easy as it is for others.

It's the perfection, I think, because TP needed Vetinari to never not be in power therefore he has to be impenetrable and able to always maintain control, or reclaim control in a Cool Fashion should it have been wrested from him in some manner.

We also just don't spend much time with him, compared to others. (Barring Downey, but Downey is disastrously human so I get him.)

Favorite moment

Probably most of his vacationing with Colon and Nobby during Jingo. That was all rather entertaining.

Idea for a story

I feel like I've written all the stuff I want to with Vetinari? I'm not sure I have something off hand that I can think of.

Unpopular opinion

He ain't the woke leader fandom sometimes weirdly projects him as. He is High Tory who does progressive changes only when he thinks it will best suit him to maintain stability within the city, overt control of Ankh-Morpork as a whole, and/or to ensure the city's broader hegemony within the region.

In Night Watch he isn't written like a sixteen/seventeen-year-old and I wish he had been.

Favorite relationship

Downey lol. I mean, come on - those two have history and it's going to be Stupid and Ridiculous.

I also like him and Madam and wish we saw more of that, especially in present day as an adult.

Favorite headcanon

Other than Madam being his mother? His leg wound is an actual disability and will steadily get worse with age and Vetinari's seeming lack of a lot of physical activity.

Pratchett sort of writes it off as a whatever/funny point/something that isn't an actual problem for Vetinari (because Vetinari can't have real problems due to the need for him to be perfect so he never has to write political changeover in the city in the present day) - and I always found this annoying.

So yeah, the leg wound is a real problem and his cane is an actual mobility device and not some "aha, you thought I was weak but I'm actually not!" gimmick.

----

Thank you! <3

[cheekyboybeth]

My family tree bc why not

my first child: she was originally born on a bus stop and her birth parents (these two guys in our grade) got divorced multiple times so I deemed them unfit to raise a child and I adopted her

my second child: the poor girls mother abandoned her (she moved to Queensland) and she doesn’t know who her father is (the queensland girl dated too many guys) so I adopted her

my third child: she is my first child’s half sister, she was made out of lava along side her twin brother, they were made by one of my first childs dads and he didn’t like my child because she was a bit mentally slow so I adopted her

my fourth child: me and my two wives all gave birth to her, don’t ask me how

my fifth child: was my favourite child but then she ran away (she moved schools without saying goodbye) I still love her and call her my own

my grand daughter: she is my third childs kid and basically raises her mother because she’s a bit mentally slow

my son in law: he is dating my second child and one day they will actually get married /g

my son in laws mother: she is amazing and a great head of her household

my son in laws dad: haven’t met the guy

my son in laws first brother: mate, he’s a wanker /j he’s actually super nice

my son in laws second brother: even nicer than the other one

my son in laws third brother: now he is an actual wanker and I hate his little moustache, I wanna shave it off so badly

my brother: he’s a bit of a oddball, creeps the kids out but it’s fine

my half sister: she is my brothers full sister and idk the parentage of any of us

my first wife: I’ve known her since I was born (not joking, she is my childhood best friend) and I would die for her

my second wife: always grabbing my tits either on purpose or on accident

And that’s it

[boabelboo]

wait do u have more modern mentor hcs??

i have many, anon!!

here are some more character specific ones!! (these are all either taken from or inspired by my fic, so england jumpscare warning since its set there 😭)

vipsania sickle:

- went to nursery and primary school with pup, since vip's aunt and pup's mum were friends

- grew up mainly with her aunt since her mum was always so busy with her job, it required her to leave the country all the time and she never really had time to look after vip and vip's siblings

- speaking of siblings!! she has two younger brothers called cassian and fabian, she loves them more than anything and practically raised them herself w the help of her aunt.

- has always been interested in law, and hates that sometimes trials are unjust, she wants to change the system so she becomes a law student

- was always the "smart and grounded" one of the popular girls back at the school she went to (hc that all the mentors went to the same fancy private school)

iphigenia moss:

- i hc them as non-binary (she/they pronouns) in all aus but i think they would have figured it out quicker in modern au

- best friends with dennis fling, they are gossip bitches who hated the main popular group. (creds to @persephoneprice for the vip, livia, arachne and pippa as the popular girlie friendgroup idea)

- dennis is nicer than iphigenia tho, she constantly has to be grounded by him ☠️

- they are also fashion bitches, they're both going to fashion school and are always best dressed no matter what

- genie loves their mother so much, her dad on the other hand..... they DO NOT speak. when they do 34 injured 22 dead.

- genie makes most of their own clothes!! they love getting new materials to use (she does crochet mainly but also other stuff)

- clemmie and her are really good friends due to their similar interests (they also knew eachother in school)

- they meet sol because sol is a tattoo artist who does all of her tattoos

- speaking of tattoos, they have too many to count but here are some i made up off of the top of my head:

- matching tattoo w dennis (he was terrified to get it but really wanted to match w iphi)

- lots of star-related tattoos

- the planet mars

- flowers!! mainly chrysanthemums because they're their favourite

- moths!!!!

pup harrington:

- he wants to be a teacher!! (his dad was not happy with that)

- works as a ta and that's how he met sepphie (they are besties now)

- lamina and him are also besties, they met thru lamina's older brother

- much like genie in the sense that he never talks to his dad but loves his mum very much, he's js defo a mums boy

- if u call him pliny he will not respond. only pup. (he's a his father hater, we've established that)

- is panromantic / ace!!

- this one is england specific but he fucking hates the m25. like who doesn't but he will blame every inconvenience on that fucking motorway.

- dating apollo, they met thru diana!!

- has like 3 dogs, he loves them more than life itself

- friends w festus, but whenever festus and him r in the same room there will be trouble best believe

- again this is england specific but he's a northerner and once he moves to london he says hi to people to be nice and all the londoners act like someone just died (vipsania specifically)

i just realised how long this post is, i may have to make a part 2 if u want!! hope u liked these anon, thank u for the ask!!

[pixie-violet]

unfinished article #2: How I actually enjoyed the ending: a How I Met Your Mother retrospective

This is actually a finished article and is supposed to be published, but the fucking TV editor is on sabbatical at the moment Word count: 954

Whenever I am asked what my favourite TV show is, my answer will always be How I Met Your Mother. I am more than a superfan, I am obsessed to a mentally detrimental degree.

However, the response I always get for my love of How I Met Your Mother? Great show, awful ending.

Now, I will acknowledge, the ending of the show is highly controversial. In fact the entirety of its last season was one of the worst rated in the show’s nine year run. Everyone wanted Ted and the mother (Tracy) to grow old together, everyone wanted Barney and Robin to stay together, and nobody wanted Ted and Robin to end up with each other.

I can sympathise with these views. I didn’t really like Ted and Robin together when they dated throughout season 2, much preferring Ted and Victoria – Ted’s girlfriend in season 1 and then briefly again in season 8. Barney and Robin were made to seem like a ‘right person, wrong time’ scenario, which audiences go crazy for. I also agreed with the idea that Ted deserved his nuclear family happy ending, even if it was with Tracy.

So why did I actually enjoy the ending? No, not for subverting my expectations in a plot twist so weird that even M. Night Shyamalan wouldn’t expect. I actually expected the show to end the way it did, which is why I loved the ending so much.

How I Met Your Mother was ran in an era where the American sitcom was at its prime. Every member of the public had a favourite sitcom, whether it was Friends, The Office, The Big Bang Theory – the list goes on. This is what TV audiences wanted, especially in the socio-political context of the 2000s where the news was all doom and gloom. The American sitcom was a way to switch off and invest into a happier version of life (unless you’re an It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia fan, then you’re just twisted).

This also meant though that sitcoms were very saturated, meaning storylines were stretched thin across each show. It was almost impossible to create an original storyline, setting, or character for each show. This has been proven multiple times; How I Met Your Mother and Friends have consistently been compared to each other, from the setting of New York City to the weird relationships between the main characters.

So while How I Met Your Mother had already established itself as a sitcom based on the romantic life of Ted, it still needed to make its defining mark. Yes, it had its quirks like the conversations with Ted’s future kids, Luke and Penny, or Barney’s Bro Code, or Bob Saget’s witty narration as a future Ted (no, it wasn’t Josh Radnor, the actor of Ted, I was shocked too). How I Met Your Mother showrunners had a different idea, and to instead organise the ending when the show began.

Yes, you heard that right. Ted and Robin were always meant to be together.

Let’s circle back to why the ending was actually enjoyable from a How I Met Your Mother fanatic though. Like I have mentioned before, I am not a fan of Ted and Robin together. Robin in callous and just wreaks of ‘I’m not like other girls’. Ted is just a delusional man who is infatuated with the idea of loving someone, but is incapable of actually doing so. Them paired together? Hellish. But why did it make sense in the show’s finale?

Ted’s obsession with finding ‘the one’ is what the show was built off of. It was utilised as a tool to cause the breakdown of Ted and Robin’s relationship in the early days of the show. It was so nice to see him achieve his goals and find ‘the one’ when he married Tracy. It was especially nice to see when Robin finds her ‘the one’ too in Barney, supposedly subverting the audience’s expectations; it was established early on that Robin never subscribed to the idea of marriage or commitment.

But you know what’s nicer and even more refreshing? The plot twist. How I Met Your Mother’s plot twist throws the idea of ‘the one’ out the window. It shows that while Ted still got everything he wanted – reminiscent of the finales of other sitcoms and were ending at the same time as How I Met Your Mother – fate had decided that that wasn’t the life he wasn’t supposed to live. He was meant for Robin.

When you go back and rewatch the show after knowing how it ended, you can clearly see how the showrunners had always planned for Ted and Robin to be together. One of the main ways you can see this is because the show is narrated by future Ted. His narration, not only is it unique in the world of sitcoms, but also shows Ted’s character progression in a very raw and open way that you can’t see in sitcoms written in the third person.

It is generally agreed that Ted is a bad person. However the narrations explain to us, through a more mature version of Ted, why he did what he did. It adds self-awareness, especially towards the show’s finale where actually it is acknowledged that maybe ‘the one’ is not an idea Ted should be chasing. With Ted’s ‘the one’ tragically dying proving this in mind, the twist ending is not so bad after all. In fact, it is one of my favourite endings of a show of all time.

How I Met Your Mother is not a story of how Ted ended up with Tracy. It’s about how he matured to realise he was always meant to be with Robin.

[whichcouldmeannothing]

daddy issues

so basically im working on a tgm thing (tdts followers I WILL DROP TWO CHAPTERS SOON PROMISE) and i had this whole scene written in like 40 minutes and well. leave my drafts. if this does well then guess I have to post the rest of it lmao

The hospital looks big and imposing and despite the fact that it is literally just a fucking building, he has never felt so terrified. He adjusts his hands in his pockets. He smooths his hair one more time and steadies himself.

He walks into the front desk, says what he needs to say and the attendant gives him a room number. He doesn’t let himself register anything. If he can make this memory as bland and detail-less as anything, he won’t revisit in high definition. He walks down the hall and keeps his mind blank, not letting himself wonder about anything or anyone. Not about his mother, rest her soul, not about how his siblings are getting on. No. 

He spots a blonde leaning against a vending machine, with a rosary in her hands. She’s in jeans, her hair is so much longer, and her face is uncharacteristically worried, but Jake would know his sister anywhere.

“Jenna!” He calls. She turns and her face breaks out into a grin as she runs to her brother.  He has muscles now, so he picks her up easily. She buries her head in his neck, and she smells like grass and apples. She smells like home. 

“Missed you.” She says, muffled into his shirt. 

“Missed you too.” He knows he sounds choked up, but this was the first place he headed to after he finally touched down and it’s always nice to see someone who misses you rather than an empty apartment. He squeezes her a little and lets her go. The jewel on her finger feels large and blinding, and he acts accordingly, and she swats him.

“How’s wedding planning?” He asks as she walks him to the room. She glows as she talks about the dresses she’s trying on, and how she wants it in the family barn, but it requires so much renovation and she is tired, but she is very happy. It sucks to see how much he’s missed, but if it’s evidence of anything, it’s how anyone can manage when he’s gone.

“Jakey,” She says and they’re at the door. “If,” she tilts her head at the door. “Things happen, can you and Jenson walk me down the aisle? It would mean the world.” She looks up at him, pleading. And how could he ever deny his sister anything?

“Of course.” She beams, like the sun. His heart hurts a little, because why can’t he try harder to be there for his family? He’s missed her. 

She opens the door, and Jenson stands up. His father stirs.

Jenson and Jenna may be the twins in this house, but Jake and Jenna were always the wonder duo. Jenna may be two years older than Jake, but they did ever

ything together. Jenson was already his father’s right hand from age twelve, so Jake and Jenna were their mother’s little helpers. It was never a perfect home, but it was theirs. 

And then they grew up, and then their mother died and time moved on.

Nothing much has changed really. Jenson stands at his father’s side. “Jake!” He sounds surprised.

His father leans forward. The military man has been devastated by his disease, his big figure whittled to skin on bone. His hair is barely there, and wrinkles cover his face. His moustache, stark white, is probably the healthiest thing he has. “Is that Jacob?”

Jake stiffens. “Hi, Dad.”

Jake was the junior of his dad, the spitting image. He was supposed to be exactly like him. But then he dropped out of the military, moved far away from the farm and became a superhero. He was never the favourite, that was clear, but that really didn’t help. He keeps his hands in his pockets, back straight. 

For a few seconds, the only sound in the room is the air-conditioning. Naively, Jake believes that his dad would be nice and normal, and maybe being this close to dying has finally made him realise that he needs to be nicer to his kid.

“You son of a bitch.” Okay, then.

“You think I want to see the son who abandoned his post, his family to fuck his way through LA?” Jenna places a hand on Jake’s arm. “You’re a fuck-up to this family, to me, to your mother. How could you show your face here?”

And that hits. 

“Mom would never be. Because, unlike you, she knew how to be a parent.”

“Jake!” That’s Jenson.

“At least she never abandoned us, she would have never fucking hit us-” And he speaks for tiny little Jake, who could never match up to his dad’s expectations. Who cried for hours once he realised his father would never like him if he wasn’t perfect. Who still got shit when he finally was.

“If I could get up right now, I would teach you some fucking respect.” And the tone is too familiar, the hatred, the disappointment. It makes Jake take a couple of steps back, like he is preparing for a strike. “I wish you were never fucking born. Get out of my fucking sight, you should never have the balls to come here after leaving the troops. I never want to fucking see you again.”

Sickly, he hopes that’s true.

He turns around and leaves. 

He does not cry. He won’t do that, his father deserves less.

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

Now it's your turn to answer the same questions hehe (I think the only answer i know is your birthday which is on 5th December. ) And also May I add few more? What's your favourite book and favourite season? Do you prefer coffee or tea? If you like coffee do you like hot coffee or prefer iced one? What's your favourite scent? - 💎💎💎

YOU REMEMBER MY BIRTHDAY??? That’s so 🥹 THATS SO SWEET 🥹

I love love love travelling my favorite place I’ve ever gone is Acadia National Park in Maine, but I also love Mt. Washington not to be a narcissist but one of my best pictures was taken up there… I look so good in it tbh… I already said i wanna go to Busan but I also really want to visit Cardiff cause I used to love Doctor Who.

My favorite show is How I Met Your Mother and EVERY TIME i give someone advice it’s something I’ve learned from the show I always preface with “everything I know about relationships is from how i met your mother but…” i know controversial but I’ve learned so much watching that show growing up.

I love rice. Just… you can pair so much with white rice but also I LOVE ambrosia salad… I don’t think that’s what my mom calls it… she makes the pistachio kind anyways but bro at family reunions that shit is always GONE. I think I like the southern ambrosia best but my family is mostly midwestern actually.

I love my job right now but I’ve always wanted to be a paleontologist… right now working in translation is sounding fun though. Less social interaction haha

My favorite kind of cake is specifically this David’s brand marshmallow cookie dough cake. I have a HUGE sweet tooth. I love cake.

Hmmm I really liked Spirited Away but I haven’t seen many.. Also my favorite anime is That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime! I love slice of life… and comedies… and isekai’s. And i love main characters who are just ridiculously over-powered. Like Rimuru is fucking crazy. I love him he’s so chill.

You cannn add a few but you have to answer them too omg. My favorite book is probably Paper Towns by John Green. I LOVE a good coming of age story and i used to live in Florida so when i first read it I was like OMG HEY LOOK- or Cyrano De Bergerac. I don’t know if it counts cause I guess technically it’s a play… WHATEVER I LOVE CYRANO. What’s more relatable than a giant simp like cyrano helping SOMEONE ELSE, GET HIS GIRL. Cause me too cyrano. Tell me why with my friends I’m always trying to get to talk to OTHER PEOPLE i was talking to my friend f** the other night when i was sad and i kept trying to tell her to go talk to other people she wanted to talk to like … BRIE STOP. As if I don’t get super jealous when my friends talk to other people more than me… bro… being toxic AND stupid at the same time is exhausting fr…

I really like the winter. I love the cold, I think snow is magical and beautiful and perfect. I think the christmas season is so warm and everyone is so much nicer to one another. I love giving people gifts and Christmas is always the perfect excuse to do so! And like… Come on… wrapped in a blanket, drinking hot cocoa with someone you love (friend or not). That’s just the perfect way to spend time. I feel like I write better during the winter. I’m the most romantic then. It’s the most romantic season! And I love stupid christmas movies. Christmas romcoms are so predictable and stupid but I love them.

I prefer coffee. Iced lattes are my favorite! My current starbucks order is (please don’t hate me) an iced brown sugar oatmilk shaken espresso with toffee nut instead of brown sugar, a pump of dark caramel sauce, salted caramel cold foam, caramel drizzle in the cup and on top, all upside down :). I mostly make my own iced coffee at home though and I recreate this on my own! But during the winter I really like miel’s!

[bippot]

Clingy

Story Summary -> The Vigilante mobile breaks down and Adrian needs a hand, transport-wise and socially it seems. Once his coworker gives him a hand, it sets him off and there is no going back to the platonic relationship they had before.

A relationship that needs to have clear boundaries because Adrian is known to get far too excited to interact with her at any chance he gets.

Tags -> Co-workers, Brief Homophobia, Codependency, Fluff, Drunkenness, Developing Relationship, Showering Together, Male simp

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

One job tends to be enough for one person. Yet, some people have to do more than that. Single mothers. College students. Crime fighters. And Adrian Chase fits into that last category.

Fennel Fields could've merely been a cover. The life insurance payments of his parents and brother were more than enough to live on for a regular person, yet Adrian liked guns. And guns can be expensive. Not to mention, his prescription visor had to be custom built and, even then, he added a few dollars extra for their secrecy. His secret identity being revealled by the guy who makes his fucking fancy glasses was the lamest unmasking he could think of. That would suck so hard.

And then the 11th Street Kids became his third job - sort of. It was like his night time patrol but in the day. It wasn't quite another job, just it amplified his favourite one. It was like 2.5 jobs. Which was cool. Tiring as shit, but dope as hell.

Another super awesome thing about A.R.G.U.S. was that he got to work with his best buddies. His coworkers at Fennel tended to not understand his humour or they thought he was weird or crazy, and just generally were not nice to him. There was no Chris. No Eagly. And definitely no Y/N. He'd fucking know if there was a babe as hot as Y/N at godamned Fennel Fields.

Y/N was a total badass when it came down to it. She was confident and smart and she knew how to take charge of situations and make a plan B before plan A had yet to fail. Plus she wasn't a closed off asshole like Harcourt, Adrian thought. She made jokes, she laughed, and she was always willing to give him a helping hand whether it was on the battlefield or off.

Kindness seemed to be rare these days.

So, there was no doubt what her response was when the Vigilante mobile broke down and he needed a ride. Nowhere in his mind did he think to ask Chris because why, why would he? Y/N would say yes with no hesitation. Chris would bitch and whine, then ultimately forget to give him the ride.

"Get in, sweetheart," she called out through her window as soon as she saw him walking towards her car. Her voice was warm, kind and friendly as ever. As always. Adrian grinned widely as he climbed into the passenger seat and threw down his backpack, causing some of it to spill out into the footwell. "Nice outfit."

Looking down at his stupid busboy uniform, he let out a quick and defensive, "I have nicer clothes than this. You know I do." It was stupid. The words came out a mile a minute. Like he was an over excited puppy that was trying to impress a new friend. "Got a bunch of nice clothes, you see. In my room. That I wear. Sometimes."

He got like this on occasion. If they hadn't seen each other in a couple of days, he would be talking nonstop in such a cute, ramble-ish manner that she couldn't help being totally entertained by it. Often, she'd see people completely shut him down whenever he started talking so she let him say whatever he wanted to. He was a funny guy. Just... a little bit overexcitable sometimes. She wasn't bothered by it, though.

"Yeah, your Vigilante get up is so nice and cool."

"You think?" He chirped happily as he tried to stuff everything that had fallen out of his bag back in whilst his focus was entirely on her. This conversation was going much better than planned, if Adrian was honest with himself.

Sure, he looked kinda dumb in that hat that Fennel forced him to wear, but that didn't matter. Especially when she reached across the gearstick and straightened the hat on his head to adjust it properly. Y/N's hands lingered there for a moment longer than they should've. She was brushing the curls against his forehead, which he found very comforting. He felt all tingly inside.

But then her fingers retracted and she pulled away, leaving Adrian feeling like he'd been kicked in the stomach. He'd hoped she'd stayed or maybe gone further. Who knows, one day he might get super lucky and she will take his face into her hands. Maybe give him a little smooch, maybe more. Hopefully more than a little smooch.

God, he hoped so much. So much that it felt almost painful sometimes. His heart fluttered every time he thought of her - and, oh boy, he thought of her quite a lot.

"Yeah, the visor is genius really. Putting your prescription in the mask so you don't have to wear your glasses underneath, that's creative problem solving, dude," she cheered as she started the car and pulled away from his drive.

"Never been called a genius before," Adrian muttered, mostly to himself. He liked hearing compliments from Y/N. They felt special. She always said the absolute nicest things about him, and he cherished them deeply, well, mostly because he rarely got them. He was used to people being mean or condescending to him since that was expected, after all.

And his mother always tried to get him to pay back a compliment when he was given one. It was a lesson that rarely came up, but he was immediately prepared with aspects of her that he liked. There was a litany of things about her that he liked - her intelligence, her bravery, her honesty, her kindness, her humour, her fucking face, not to mention her rocking bod! - and, if anything, he had a hard time picking between them.

"Your boobs look nice today."

Shit. Oh. Fuck. Not that one. Should not have said that.

A blush began to rise onto his cheeks as he stared forward in embarrassment. Yet, he heard Y/N snort in response. "Oh. Thank you!" She giggled without an ounce of disgust or malice, just pure amusement.

"That was awful, I'm sorry." Adrian groaned and let his face fall into his hands, but soon gestured in the general direction of her cleavage. "Your top is low cut and I'm a man. A warm blooded man. My brain was not ready for that."

Again, she laughed, her voice filling the car with revelry and joy as the wind blew her hair around. Adrian's body relaxed slightly and a small smile came upon his lips as he allowed himself to glance up at her profile and watch as she drove.

"Hey, a cute guy looking at my boobs is a okay with me," she said playfully. And he couldn't tell if it was a joke or sarcasm or something, but she definitely didn't mean it that way. She couldn't. That was impossible. She had to be joking.

Right?

She had the sense to change the subject as he seemed to quieten down, so she assumed he was uncomfortable in some way. Or maybe he was just embarrassed about his compliment.

"What time do I need to pick you up later?"

"Nine," he replied quietly. Then, he cleared his throat and continued, "I could always walk if you want an early night or don't want to drive or something like that."

"Nonsense." Y/N waved it off and gave him a grin that told him that whatever self deprecating things he was thinking, he should throw out the window for good measure.

Before they knew it, they were in the Fennel Fields car park. The conversation had been a smidge stilted as he was attempting to think before he spoke, which was a seriously underdeveloped skill of his. He didn't want to fuck up royally and make her hate him. That would suck. That would really suck.

Here she is, the perfect girl who, for reasons that he had no clue about, was nice and sweet to him - yeah, he didn't want to fuck that up. He didn't want it to all come crashing down because of a few stupid thoughtless comments.

"See you later...Bye Y/N!"

Then he was out of the car as fast as he could without tripping over his own feet. He hadn't gotten a chance to scope out his surroundings and, therefore, failed to notice that both Fred and Colin were on their break. These guys were assholes, he knew that for sure as his high school years had been made hell by those two douchebags.

"Woah, look at him go," Fred scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned lazily back against the wall. "Fastest gay in the galaxy!"

Adrian stopped in place.

"Guys, how many times have I told you that using the word gay as an insult isn't, like, cool or good. It's offensive to gay people."

Colin had to take the opportunity to tease, "Shit, I think we offended him. Sorry, homo."

"Yeah, sorry bum boy."

Honeslty, these guys had been saying shit like this since high school and it was, not only incredibly childish and homophobic, but so fucking boring. They could've at least kept their insults interesting. Once a teenage girl on the street yelled at him "Bitch, you look like you work at the sperm bank and get paid in exposure," and he thought about it for days on end. It was totally out of pocket, unprompted and, shit, he made sure never to wear that one cardigan ever again.

In fact, he burned it.

"Wish I never told you guys that I'm bi," Adrian sighed tiredly as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

From where she was sitting, Y/N could just about hear the conversation and felt awful for him. When he spilled his bag, he'd missed an item. Perfect.

Calling out as she stepped from the car, "Hey sweetheart, you left your..." What the fuck was this in her hand? It was a weird shaped dice. It was more circular than the die she was used to. "This thing!"

A woman, and a pretty one at that, was actually interacting with him in front of his coworkers. That was great. So awesome because then he could claim that Y/N was his girlfriend and all the weird comments would stop. How could he be even a smidgeon bit gay if he had a girlfriend? In their shallow little minds, it was impossible. That was his mission.

"Thanks, b-babe." Adrian sounded so unconvincing as he said it that she rolled her eyes fondly and walked towards him with an amused grin on her lips. "I'll uhmm....Put it away."

As soon as she was beside him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he thought he was imagining shit, but then he saw her lips coming in closer and closer and, holy crap, was she actually going to kiss him? Yes, yes she was.

He didn't care if it was a dream because he could feel her soft mouth pressing against his and he kissed her back without hesitation. It felt real, and he could feel her smiling through the kiss. She felt real too, the smooth skin against his hands as he cradled her cheeks seemed to be real too. But, most importantly, she tasted real.

And, boy, did she taste so good. He wanted more, so much more than as she went to pull away, he chased her lips to prolong it as long as he could. They eventually parted as he rested his forehead against hers and breathed heavily.

"You okay?" she whispered.

"Never fucking better."

Detaching herself from his grip - before he wanted her to if he was being honest - she pretended to notice the other men with a faux apologetic, "Oh sorry, couldn't help myself - he's too cute to resist," then turned back to Adrian, "See you tonight?"

"Yeah, yeah...of course. S-see you."

His little dumbfounded heart was racing as he watched her head back into the car, knowing that he was probably blushing a deep red. And that it wasn't only because he just kissed a girl he admired - a girl whose beauty was far superior to any other human's - but also because she'd (whether directly or indirectly, he had no idea) helped him out. It felt nice, actually. Weird and a tad embarrassing, but still nice. Real nice.

"You and her?!?" Both Fred and Colin exclaimed simultaneously as soon as Y/N disappeared into her car.

The so so smug feelings inside Adrian were written all over his face as he attempted to shrug nonchalantly and head inside without replying. He was practically bouncing with each step as he entered the restaurant and tried to act as though nothing happened, that it was a regular occurrence.

Even his boss made a passing remark about how chipper Adrian seemed. The usual work philosophy for just about every member of the Fennel Fields staff was to provide only as much as they needed to. A smile on the way in and if they were taking an order, yet Adrian had a Cheshire grin for the entirety of his shift, which actually was rather distressing to some customers.

Of course they had to be polite but not necessarily kind and he found himself going out of his way to please everyone around him. The second he noticed a customer's water getting empty, he was there in a flash to refill it whether they wanted him to or not, usual information about when the kitchen was thoroughly cleaned last (way too long ago) was given without being prompted, just as which meals he'd recommend (the cheapest) was too. And he was humming a little song to himself the entire time.

After all, he was in love. A love that had been there for a while just lurking under the surface and had finally broken through the barrier to become even more glaringly obvious. It was annoying to everyone else, but at least Y/N kissed him so he didn't really care. And, he desperately needed to experience it again.

Once nine arrived, he was absolutely buzzing to leave and, as she said she would, Y/N was parked outside. She'd gotten out to throw some of her rubbish in the trash can and was suddenly attacked from behind.

In an instant, her years of training kicked in and she brought her elbow back to wind whoever had grabbed her in the stomach. Then, to grapple them instead, she turned and managed to catch their arm to twist it against their back, retaining them tightly enough to keep them from running.

Not that he was going to run. No way. Adrian was way too turned on to even try.

"Hi Y/N," he beamed.

"Oh Ade! I'm so sorry - you surprised me there." She let go of the hold and helped him stand upright again. "You good?"

So good. Literally the best he'd ever felt, which was why he confidently grabbed onto her hips and tugged her towards him, their lips meeting in an abrupt and needy way that would've had her stumbling backwards if his grip wasn't so strong.

How surprised she currently was feeling was completely overshadowed by how unbelievably wonderful his kiss felt. His lips, they were so soft and warm, and they fit together perfectly. The way he kissed her was so natural and as if he had been preparing for this moment for ages. It was intoxicating.

His tongue traced across her bottom lip, prompting her to open her mouth and welcome him, which she was more than happy to do. He felt her hand travel up to his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin as they pulled apart for air, her breathing heavy and quick, her face flushed.

"Hi," she whispered coyly, her voice softer and sweeter than he'd ever heard before.

"Hey."

"What was that?"

"Dunno...just, uh, just felt like it," he shrugged nonchalantly, still holding her waist in his grasp in a clumsy yet possessive grapple. A giggle escaped her throat as he turned his head to press his lips to her palm and nuzzle it affectionately. "Can we hang out tonight? Like, just us?"

Waiting for her response, his gaze met hers once more, his green eyes staring down at her in adoration as she tried to piece things together. If possible, his face grew even more adorably charming as she stared back at him. Her expression softened.

"Yeah, of course. Whatever you want to do, Ade." Her voice, although still husky and full of confusion, held such a gentle, caring tone that he melted at the sound.

With another kiss to her palm, he released her and they headed to the car and drove off together. The entire time she was sneaking glances at him, because was this an alien? He seemed excited, yes, but Adrian hardly ever liked being touched by anyone and, here he was, reaching for her hand every time she took it off the gear stick.

It was a nice change, sure. But a weird one. She assumed it had something to do with their kiss before work. And she knew for a fact that he was touch starved. It had to be a mix of the two. Why else would he have acted so differently? It had to. It was weird, definitely, but a good weird.

Still, she felt the need to check, "Are you doing okay? You haven't taken any drugs or been concussed or replaced by a clone?"

"Uh, none of the above. I'm seriously a-okay," he replied, chuckling at how preposterous she sounded. He was dead against drugs so that's a no go. At no point had he signed up for a shady scientific experiment so the chance that there were other Adrian Chase's running about was slim.

Plus, his shift had been rather uninteresting, unless she counted the fact that "I scraped my finger a little and it hurts a bit, but other than that, I'm fucking peachy."

Despite the fact he claimed he was fine, Y/N did a series of medical tests as soon as she got him through the door of his apartment. "Look straight into my eyes please," she ordered and he obliged immediately.

Then he did try to lean forward and kiss her again. Yet, she put her hand on his chest to prevent him from doing so. She took his chin in her hand and tilted him from side to side to inspect every part of his face.

"You have really nice eyes, Y/N. Really pretty," Adrian complimented, his hand resting on the small of her back, gently rubbing up and down as she worked, and his legs swinging either side of her hips as he sat on the kitchen counter.

She nodded absentmindedly, her eyes still glued on his face. His pupils were dilated, yet still seemed to react appropriately when she shone a torch at his eyes. There were bags underneath them, which meant that he hadn't slept very well recently but he rarely got a good amount of sleep so that wasn't out of the ordinary.

"No drugs?"

"NoPe."

"Are you on any new medication?"

"No."

"And you haven't sustained any head injuries in the past two days?"

"None whatsoever, no."

"Got a headache?"

So many questions. So many damn questions. They all had the same answer. And, frankly, he was getting a bit bored of answering so he gave her the best puppy dog eyes he could manage.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop with the torch," she relented, giving him a pat on the cheek. "But, answer me one more question. What's with all the touching? I don't mind, but it's different to how you usually are and I, I don't know, is this a good thing or...?"

Adrian didn't reply right away. His hands slowly fell back down to his sides as he looked down at his shoes awkwardly, his fingers fidgeting with his sleeves. The look on his face didn't match what was happening inside of him right now. One second he was looking into her eyes lovingly and the next second he couldn't help but feel annoyed with himself.

"I like it... And earlier, I- When you... I had to feel it again. I had to feel you again. Maybe I got a bit excited." His voice was almost timid and quiet as he lifted his head.

For the first time in her life, she saw as he seemed to be slightly vulnerable and unsure of his own words. He didn't dare make eye contact with her, but she could tell he wanted to so badly as he added, "Do you, uh, did you like it?"

Tilting his chin up, Y/N smiled gently and brushed some hair behind his ear as she replied, "I'm a big fan of that kiss outside your work and -"

Cheekily, he said, "Which one?" and immediately cheered himself up as soon as he heard her laugh at his remark. However, he couldn't revel in the sound for long as his train of thought was stopped by the obvious sounds of his front door opening.

Without thinking, Adrian jumped down and grabbed a knife from the rack to be armed if the intruder became violent. Which was unlikely because the intruder was in fact Chris. A very drunk, topless Christopher Smith threw the spare key that Adrian gave him at his friend's head with a loud, "Beer! Fucking love beer! Give me some more!... Holy shit, Y/N? Is that you?!"

"Sure is, doofus."

"But this is Adrian's house?"

Sheathing his weapon now that he knew it was only Peacemaker, Adrian made his way over to Chris and placed his hand in front of him with three digits up. "How many fingers, dude?"

Chris gave him a high five.

"Good job, man."

Whatever newfound romantic tone the two had built was quickly placed on the back burner for a moment so they could deal with Chris. Judging by how Adrian dealt with his friend, the pair had clearly gone through this before.

Turning to Y/N, who was standing with her arms crossed over her chest and an amused grin covering the whole of her face, Chris sluggishly asked her, "Why are you here? Did he finally do something?" Then turning to Adrian, he grinned and mumbled, "...Did you, you know, all that mushy shit that I told you not to do?"

"Let's get you to bed."

"Yo, you're not trying to fuck me, are you?"

"No dude."

"Good, cause I like my men less fucking dweeby."

Peacemaker was promptly guided towards the only bedroom and left to pass out on Adrian's bed before he could say anything else. There was a little resistance and that would turn into a deep purple bruise on his buddy's ribs by the morning, but all things considered, it had been one of the easier drunken nights.

After tucking Chris in and pulling the blanket over him, Adrian returned to Y/N and leaned back against the wall opposite where she was propped against the counter.

"That went better than expected," he remarked playfully while crossing his arms across his chest and watching as her eyes glittered with amusement, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"If it makes you feel any better, I like my men dweeby. So fucking dweeby."

He pushed off the wall to saunter towards her and cage her body between him and the counter, claiming, "I'm the king of dweebs so you must be really into me," as he looked down at her.

"Well..." She bit her bottom lip, pretending to think about it. "Guess I must be."

His smile widened, a wide, toothy grin that lit up his features and made him look incredibly goofy and cute. It brought out that same sparkle in her eyes and made her heart skip a beat just looking at him, which only got worse when he gently nudged his nose against hers.

They'd been friends for a while now and while she had been flirting with him since they met, she never expected him to be so tactile with her. So open. So honest. It took her completely by surprise. He never showed his feelings openly, mostly because he had the tendency to believe that he didn't have any.

Clearly, he did.

It was like a dam breaking apart. And just like a wall of water coming straight for your face, she got overwhelmed by the sheer volume of his affection.

If she was in the same room as him, he'd be attached to her hip. He had to be touching her in some way. If they were apart, he'd be texting her as frequently as he could possibly manage to do so. And if she'd been busy and missed a few texts, her phone would be bombarded with calls.

Adrian Chase was one needy bastard. His behaviour had shifted so dramatically towards her. It was as if a switch had been flipped in his mind, all those years of loneliness suddenly being thrown out the window as he began clinging desperately onto her whenever and wherever possible.

In most ways, it was sweet. Knowing that he liked being around her was wonderful. She felt loved. Needed. Cared for. Protected. But there was a downside. It was constant. Constant neediness. Constant longing for closeness. Constant wanting. Constant desire for every single bit of her attention.

Every word she'd say. Every movement she'd make. Every action she'd take. Everything she did. Everything she thought. Everything she felt. All of it had a spectator watching it unfold.

"Ade, can I-"

Before she was able to finish her sentence, she was interrupted by a pair of lips crashing against hers. She sighed softly as his hand moved to cup her cheek, thumb caressing along her jawline. He kissed her slowly and gently, making sure that she knew he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Once he released her and took a second to get her fuzzy mind back on track, Y/N broke free from his hold and reached forward to push at his chest so he would let her pass into the bathroom.

"Don't follow me in here," she warned sternly. "Just hang out, out there. Go pick a movie or some shit."

As much as he tried to protest, she wouldn't hear of it and practically pushed him out into the hall. She locked the door behind her and let out a deep breath as she rested her back against the wood. The whole situation made her dizzy. She loved hanging out with him, it was great - so much fun - but not every second of their time together had to be like this.

Their relationship definitely wouldn't last long if it continued in this manner. She would reach a boiling point eventually and she didn't even want to imagine what would happen after that.

So, some boundaries had to be placed.

Y/N sat on the toilet and worked it all out in her head. In order to prevent future problems, she needed to break this routine. She needed to lessen this clingy behaviour that was slowly eating away at her, and it wasn't sustainable for him either. There would be a point where he'd get bored of being emotionally dependent on her and then there'd be no going back.

There was a brief moment where she was doubting herself then her phone vibrated and she didn't even need to look at it to know who had texted her.

"Hey baby, can we talk?" she asked as she walked into the living room to find him patiently waiting for her.

"Yeah, you know I love the sound of your voice."

Walking over to sit next to him on the sofa, she turned her body so that she was facing him and reached her hand out to run through his curls. "Be warned, I'm serious about everything I'm about to tell you."

A nervous smirk appeared on his face and he fiddled nervously with a stray thread on his sweater, avoiding her eyes.

"You're breaking up with me, aren't you?" he whispered, causing her eyes to widen considerably.

"No! No, no, no! Of course not!" she reassured, shaking her head vigorously, "Oh God no, nothing like that. This isn't..." She paused and waited for him to look up at her. When he did, she continued. "I really like you, Adrian, but -"

"I really like you too!"

The words caught her off guard, but she smiled nonetheless. He had a tendency to interrupt her, but she knew it was because he was so excited to tell her something and couldn't stop himself from blurting it out.

"I know you do, baby." He stared up at her intently and gave her a big smile and a nod, which prompted her to carry on. She inhaled sharply, feeling slightly apprehensive at how he reacted to her confession, "What I mean to say is that...I like being around you, but I do need some time to myself sometimes too. We don't have to always spend all of our time together."

"Do you mean like...alone time?" he questioned, cocking his eyebrow upwards. "Like, alone time without me?"

"Yes."

Her answer seemed to have given him more pause than what she'd intended since he frowned and tilted his head, something clearly swimming around in that head of his. He remained silent, his gaze wandering off somewhere behind her.

After what felt like forever, he softly said, "Okay."

She blinked, completely surprised by his nonchalant reaction. She'd half expected him to whine a lot more, to complain and pout about it. But he hadn't. Not once did he utter a word about it or try to convince her otherwise.

"Do you understand why?" she pressed, reaching a hand out to squeeze the palm of his hand reassuringly.

Another pregnant silence filled the room until he finally replied, "Not exactly."

He looked up at her again, and the way he was staring at her was almost like he wanted to memorise her face, trying to imprint it in his brain for the sake of any memory loss later when she would abruptly not be right next to him.

"You know how you don't like it when Economos taps his pen against the table? It's fine at first but then he carries on and on until it becomes a little overwhelming, then you have to go into the other room for a break?"

"Yeah, John pisses me off all the time." He paused and came to a realisation. "I piss you off?!? Oh my God, baby, I'm sorry. Are you mad? I won't ever do that again, I promise," he babbled and quickly started to panic, "You are, right? You're angry with me. You hate me! Oh my God. Y/N, please forgive me. Please, I don't mean to. I'm sorry, please don't leave me. I'll do anything, I swear I will."

Then he looked at her with such genuine fear, and it hit her hard. This man was absolutely terrified of losing her, so afraid that he'd lose one of best friends and she would disappear from his life, leaving him all alone in the world. He was a mess. A broken shell. He'd spent a lot of his life alone, and he had been utterly miserable for most of it.

Coming to think of it, these past few months, he'd been happier than she'd ever seen him before. More comfortable with himself. He genuinely smiled more often. He wasn't as purposely reckless. Chris didn't seem to affect him as much. And most astonishingly, he slept better.

"Hey, hey, shush, it's okay," she cooed as she lifted his chin up with her finger. "Look at me. Look at me, I promise I'm not going anywhere, okay? Don't worry. I'm not mad at you. It's not that at all. I just wanted some space, some temporary space, that's all. Periodic breaks of alone time."

"Just temporary?" he asked hopefully, eyes wide as saucers. "Promise?"

"I promise."

Relief washed over his features, the worry and anxiety melting away like snowflakes under the sun. His shoulders sagged and he slumped forward until he was resting his head against her lap. He sighed contentedly, "Thank fuck."

She chuckled and scratched gently at his scalp, feeling like she'd lost a huge weight off her chest. Now that they were somewhat on the same page, she could relax. They would still have many things to work through. Many things to figure out, but she knew for certain that they were on the right path to moving forward.

They took the time to have a big long conversation about everything. In the end, it went pretty well and Y/N knew, she knew that they'd be fine. Yet, they had to test it out before they got too far ahead of themselves.

"What are the rules?"

"No texting or calling for two hours unless there's an emergency."

"And?"

"Keep my hands off your butt when I see you at work."

"And number 3?"

"Ask before I try to initiate any PDA."

Y/N was so glad he had taken her boundaries seriously and wasn't letting it slide. It was sweet of him and honestly, she was touched by his effort to respect her wishes. He was trying, and he was trying so hard. For that, she was grateful beyond measure.

"Can I give you a goodbye kiss?" he asked tentatively, his voice soft and low.

"Baby, you don't have to ask when we're at home. PDA, as in, public displays of affection."

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she pulled him closer into her embrace, pressing a gentle kiss onto his cheek. Then the other cheek. Then finally to his lips for good measure.

"It was very kind of you to ask though."

When she pulled away, he was smiling like crazy at her, the smile he never allowed anyone to see and the sight caused her heart to melt like butter. That smile belonged solely to her and her alone. It had become so addictive and she would be lying if she didn't admit that everytime they made a connection, she would feel giddy inside.

And as she went to lean back in to give him another smooch, he gently pushed her face away with a smug, "I thought you had to go?"

"I do."

"So go."

Smiling up at him, she grabbed the front of his tshirt, dragging him down towards her and connecting their lips in a chaste yet heated kiss before leaving his apartment.

Two hours of freedom and how did she spend the majority of it? Sitting by herself in a cafe and wondering if he was okay, that's how. She had intended to read a book, but would get distracted and couldn't make it past the first four paragraphs. She kept checking her phone. Maybe it was muscle memory. Maybe it was that nagging part of her brain that said 'he hasn't texted in five minutes, he could be dead.'

Realistically, she knew he was fine. Vigilante is not the easiest of targets. She knew that. So logically, he'd probably be perfectly okay. And he was. As soon as they made it to HQ, she could see that not only was he physically fine - in every way - but he seemed emotionally fine too.

"For the first time ever, your boyfriend beat you here," Adebayo quipped as Y/N walked through the door, half drunk smoothie in her hand. Leota gestured to Adrian who was looking over Economos's shoulder at some new weapon that John had come up with - the Eagly-copter, which was a drone sort of thing that resembled a very familiar eagle and was equipped with cameras and an uzi.

Modern technology, ay?

He saw her out of the corner of his eye and shot her an amused grin and a wink, raising his eyebrows suggestively before returning his attention back to the fake bird and John's big lecture about how neither of the superheroes could play with it in any way.

The moment it was over, however, Adrian beelined towards his girlfriend. "Did you miss me?" he mused as he leant against her desk, picked up her drink and took a sip. She was going to offer it to him anyway.

"I did," she confirmed with a laugh. "Kiss please?"

Adrian hummed, leaning in to give her a quick kiss that was far less gross than their colleagues were used to seeing them share. Even Harcourt commented, "I'm grossed out, just not as much as normal."

"How are you? Did you find it okay?" Y/N questioned, watching as he slowly drank the rest of her smoothie. Adrian shrugged, looking thoughtful as he stared deep into the liquid and swirled the straw around in circles.

"I think so," he eventually answered after giving himself time to mull things over in his mind. "I did freak out for a bit then, yeah, played some Stardew Valley and that distracted me... I understand now. Sorry for being so clingy before."

"You're forgiven, babe," Y/N assured him with a small nod.

"One more kiss before we get on with our work?"

Y/N rolled her eyes good naturedly, placing a firm kiss on his mouth and making sure to linger there, savouring the taste of his lips and the slight roughness of his stubble before pulling away.

"Those documents aren't going to read themselves. Get on with it, baby!" he jeered as he moved to his seat to do whatever Harcourt had planned for him.

Over time, their alone time could get longer and longer. It came to the point where they could go an entire day without seeing each other. Obviously, there was a splattering of texts during that day that were mostly memes or good morning/night messages or whenever he got bored on his shift and needed some lighthearted entertainment.

Then came her mission. Waller had hand picked five of her agents and, alas, Y/, was one of them. It was the biggest quest of them all for the couple. Two full months apart. Adrian in Evergreen. Y/N on an undercover mission in Egypt to scout out the exact location where Doctor Moon was doing his gruesome experiments.

"I will check in as often as I can but, baby, I might have to go dark for a bit," she explained to him the evening before her departure while they were having dinner together, holding her fork above her plate with a worried look plastered across her face. "I'll try to call you everyday if it's safe. Promise."

He frowned deeply, reaching out for her hands and squeezing reassuringly. "I know you will," he told her softly. "That doesn't mean I won't miss you though. If something happens..." he trailed off, frowning even deeper, his expression becoming solemn and serious. He shook his head, not allowing him the chance to continue what he was saying.

Instead, he lifted her knuckles to his lips and brushed a soft kiss along the surface of her skin. "I can't lose you too," he said, almost inaudibly but the concern dripping from his words was unmistakable.

"And you," she chuckled sadly, "Please don't do anything stupid until I get back."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he promised with a playful grin. The smile quickly disappeared when she guided him to the couch and buried her face in his stomach, cuddling his legs close to her chest and wrapping her arms around him tightly.

"I love you," she murmured tiredly, already beginning to drift off to sleep. "I'm gonna miss you."

"Love you too," he replied, running a soothing hand gently through her hair. He wished that their first declarations of love hadn't been so bittersweet. He wished he had the power to say those three little words earlier in their relationship instead of bottling them up and just waiting for her to say it first.

Those two months seemed to drag and drag, especially during the later stages of her mission because it felt like everything was moving in slow motion and no matter what he tried, nothing he did worked. He couldn't concentrate on anything that he was supposed to be doing and it was stressing him out so much.

Adrian was working overtime, spending all his spare time training or out on patrol or doing god knows what with Chris to get his mind off Y/N for a few minutes, hoping that one of these days she would call him because, as she had warned, her team had to cut communications. It had been two weeks since she'd gone dark and he was getting really fucking worried.

To top it all off, the Vigilante mobile broke down again. Chris was supposed to be giving him lifts but he kept forgetting.

Sad, tired and lonely, Adrian finished his last late night shift of the week and locked up the back door with a huff.

"You know, you should probably buy a new car at this point. The Vigilante mobile has called it quits at least four times since we met."

No way. His head whipped up, face brightening as he lunged towards that voice he recognised so well. And when he found her, standing there perched on the hood of her car, grinning like an idiot and looking absolutely jaw dropping in a tight fitting black kevlar suit, all he could do was pull Y/N in close to his body and press his nose into her neck, inhaling her scent with the most contented sigh he could possibly muster.

Judging by the fact that she still smelt of blood and mud and sweat, he assumed she rushed straight here after completing her job. They stood like that for several moments as he wrapped her tighter into his chest, relishing in her presence.

"Wow, I forgot how pretty you are in person," he admitted breathlessly once he pulled back to get a good look at her face, admiring her features and how they'd changed slightly since he'd last seen her. Her hair looked a little messy due to her lack of care but she didn't seem bothered by it, her skin had been slightly weathered by the sun and there had obviously been a few all nighters, but that could easily be fixed by a night full of pampering.

"Could say the same to you, handsome."

Without warning, he pulled her against him again, pressing a hard, heated kiss against her soft, smiling lips and revelling in the feeling that she'd kissed him back, the warmth that emanated from her body radiating through his own. His hands travelled to her waist and tightened their grip as she returned the favour, running her tongue along his bottom lip to deepen the kiss.

"Missed you," Adrian mumbled as he trailed his mouth down to her neck, peppering gentle kisses along her throat and sucking a mark into the soft skin beneath her jawbone. She shuddered against him and let out a gasp, grabbing fistfuls of his uniform and pulling him forward as he continued to explore her. "Missed you so fucking much... so fucking badly, baby."

She laughed quietly, her fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him closer to her as she gave herself over completely to the sensations that he inflicted upon her with only minimal effort. "I missed you, too. More than anything..."

He nodded against the skin of her neck, kissing and sucking a trail up to her ear before pulling back once again, smirking slightly at her wide eyes, red lips and flushed cheeks, then affectionately nudging his nose into her cheek before pressing another lingering kiss on that spot.

"Sorry, I should've asked to do that."

"I'll let it slide this time," she began, trying to regain control over her breathing.

Meanwhile, Adrian was busy playing with the zipper of her suit jacket, taking it off with deft, nimble fingers so that he could slip both of his hands inside her shirt and caress the bare skin of her stomach.

"Let's go home? Your place is closer and you look tired," he murmured against her neck causing her to hum lightly and nod her head. "Gimme the keys, I'll drive."

The second they exited the car, Y/N was lifted into his arms, her legs wrapped around his middle and her arms around his shoulders. "I can walk, you know?" she chuckled, burying her face further into his shoulder.

"No," he said teasingly, shaking his head and tightening his hold on her, "Not tonight. Besides, it gives me more opportunity to show off that I've been working out."

Her laugh rippled through her chest as her arms tightened around him and she brought them closer, leaning her weight more onto him as she closed her eyes to enjoy the moment before they reached their destination, which was the shower.

"I can take a hint. I stink, don't I?"

"I don't mind it. You, on the other hand, will be complaining nonstop in the morning about how horrible you smell."

"You know me too well."

Slowly, he removed her clothes with the gentlest touch he could as he had no idea whether she had gained any injuries or not. When he peeled away her shirt and saw the fresh cut on her abdomen and side, the sight made his stomach turn upside down and his heart ache.

"I thought it was a surveillance mission?!"

"Let's just say Warmaster was playing both sides and we had to make a very quick getaway."

Y/N was downplaying the seriousness of the situation a tad so he wouldn't completely freak out, although that's exactly what he was planning on doing.

"What!?"

Taking his head in her hands, she gazed earnestly into his worried gaze, rubbing circles into the soft skin of his cheeks with her thumbs in an attempt to calm him down a bit. He stared back at her with such intensity that he started to wonder if his stare was actually capable of burning a hole through her.

"I'm fine, baby," she reassured. "I promise. Just need rest and it'll heal in no time."

He remained silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating whether or not he should believe her or not as he slowly released some of his tense muscles and a shaky breath from his nostrils before closing his eyes, resting his forehead against hers, allowing her to ease the worry from his expression.

"Wanna join me in the shower?"

"Kill me if I ever say no to that."

She reached for his belt and seductively tugged him forward until he leaned down, capturing her lips softly in a heated kiss as they undressed each other piece by piece, savouring every single touch and brush of their skin. After being reunited with her, he could finally run his hands across every inch of her body, enjoying the feel of every curve and dip and bump.

Getting them actually into the shower was proving more difficult than she first expected. Every time she'd move, he'd manoeuvre her back so he could continue his thorough investigation, so she had to do some distracting. And Y/N was very good at distracting Adrian.

Slowly, she started at the top of his cheekbone and began a trail of kisses all the way to the outermost corner of his lips. When he tilted his head for the next one to land smack bang on his kisser, she dodged to repeat her process on the other side of his face. Once again, he tried to capture her lips and groaned when she moved onto his jaw instead, making his impatience skyrocket.

"Kiss?" he begged as he grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against his body.

Y/N grinned against his skin. "I am kissing you, baby."

"No." He rolled his eyes and hooked his finger under her chin, forcing her head up so he could plant a hungry kiss onto her mouth, holding her close against him. All focus he had was on her lips now. Step one was complete.

Step two was a little harder. Peaking through one eye, she walked him backwards until they reached the edge of the shower and she mumbled against his lips, "Take a step back for me, big guy."

She could feel him smile against her lips before obeying and successfully got into the shower without tripping over the step.

Then step three was to shower. He pressed her against the glass pane of the shower, sliding his hands underneath her thighs, holding her securely up while his mouth travelled to her breasts.

"Are we going to turn the water on?"

"Oh shit," Adrian muttered as he realised that they'd moved- he did know that his feet had been moving, he had no idea where to - and turned the knob accordingly, sending a stream of freezing water directly down her exposed chest. She squealed loudly and clutched onto him tightly, burying her face into his neck as he chuckled at her reaction.

Soon, but not soon enough for her, the water warmed up significantly, and despite the initial chill, Y/N found herself relaxing a little in his arms as he held her and gently rubbed her damp back. Yet, she still teasingly pushed him away from her so she could reach for the body wash.

"Gimme it," he demanded, snatching it out of her grasp so he had an excuse to put his hands all over her body again, not that he really needed one.

As the warm water ran down her naked flesh, he took his time to ensure that every single inch of her body was covered in suds, rubbing a lather over her skin and relishing in the sensation of having her this close to him again after so long.

"How was work, baby?" she asked sweetly and began working some shampoo into his hair. Adrian sighed contently and leant back against the wall of the shower so that he could rest his head on it, letting the hot jets of water wash over him as he closed his eyes.

"It was... alright, yeah, it was fine. Not interesting in the slightest, honestly."

"That bad, huh?"

He shrugged nonchalantly and allowed his eyes to drift shut as she worked her fingers gently through his hair, massaging his scalp with her fingertips until he felt like jelly under her touch. His eyelids fluttered closed for a brief moment so the shampoo wouldn't get in his eyes and he couldn't keep himself from sighing again.

"I really missed you. So much it hurts," he confessed quietly, feeling Y/N stop what she was doing for a split second, then resume the process of massaging his scalp gently. He opened his eyes a crack then turned his head to look down at her, watching the love in those eyes shine right back up at him.

"I'm here now, don't worry," she assured, placing a light peck on his lips.

Adrian returned her smile and cupped her face. And that was it for Y/N. No words were necessary since she already knew how much he meant to her, even when he spoke softly, his voice dripping with passion.

"I love you. Sorry I don't say it more often. Never said it to anyone else but you," he whispered as he lowered his face down towards hers, wanting nothing more than to drown in the feel of her lips pressing against his, his tongue invading her mouth as he kissed her senseless.

"Don't be sorry," Y/N said softly against his lips. "Love you too, baby." She gave him another quick smooch. "You gonna let me wash my hair or do you want to do it?"

Tired and fully cleaned, the pair wrapped themselves in towels and dried off before getting into bed together and cuddling up against each other. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep almost immediately, her arms slung around his waist and her nose buried deep into the crook of his shoulder while he held her tight and kissed the top of her head tenderly.

Sure, he was exhausted too, but right now the sight of her falling asleep in his arms was something he cherished very much, and knowing that he'd be able to experience it again tomorrow was enough to make him smile contentedly.

Throughout his life he always thought that this - that she - was some absurd pipe dream that would never happen to him; but as he stroked her hair and watched the rise and fall of her chest, he realised that he was wrong. It was possible. The proof was in his arms.

Even when he didn't cling to her, she still came back to him without fail. And maybe that was all he really needed. Yes, feeling her was nice. Seeing her boobs was cool. But, he knew that was all physical. The love and care he felt from her told him all he needed to know.

No matter how far apart they were, she was with him. And nothing could ever take that away from him.

*Click here for my Adrian Chase masterlist, or here for the entire masterlist*

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[littlefreya]

Hi Freya ~~ how would you rank Henry and his characters from most soft to most dom? 👀😛

I actually did this one before, but it’s been so long ago I think it deserves another take. 💖

Warnings: 18+, smut, this has multiple kinks in it so please heed the warnings - BDSM, Sub/Dom, Daddy Kink (August), bondage, denial, victorian patriarchy,  spanking, facial, cockwarming, exhibition, degradation, DP, anal, bodily fluids, CNC, role play, striptease, oral, overstimulation, power play, primal play, chasing.  

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, August Walker, Captain Syverson, Walter Marshall, Geralt of Rivia.

A/N: These are all based on my imagination and how I see these characters, nothing is canon. It’s all in good fun. :)

For Sherlock, it's all about discipline. Baby's got a touch of hysteria? No worries, he will be more than thrilled to “re-educate” you. 

Among his favourite forms of punishment you may find:

Spanking, paddling and caning - naughty girls get their asses spanked -  be a bad a girl and Sherlock will have tummy-flat on his lap, spanking your ass sore. “Allow me to show you your place,” he chides, squeezing your overwhelmingly sensitive flesh.

Bondage and Denial - Sherlock loves to experiment and enjoys testing your limits. “Let’s see how long can you go until you break and beg?” Tying you to his bed, he will either slip a dildo or his cock inside you, but then instead of fucking you as you’d desire, he’d restrict you from friction and have you throb and squeal and whimper for more.

Cockwarming - speaking of which, cockwarming is definitely one of Sherlock’s favourite things. A nice day at the park, you say? It will be nicer with you wrapped around his cock while people pass by, never knowing how deep he is buried inside your cunt.

Exhibition - It's not about getting caught as much as it's about him taking you whenever he wants, wherever he wants. After all, you are his little plaything to use as he sees fits.

Anal play - it’s a complete taboo, but mother nature gave you two holes for a reason, and Sherlock is more than curious to find out what it feels like to have that puckered hole stretched around his shaft and to fill it with his cum.  

Walter has a dirty little secret, one that he only shared with you. He likes it rough, always had and has been a proud member of the BDSM community for years now.

Bondage - He is an absolute Dom and wouldn't be open to switching. If anything entices him, it's to have you restrained to his bed, all stripped from clothes and power. Luckily, having a police career comes with a free pair of handcuffs. But Walter also likes to get creative, and he went out of his way to install a special headboard with various types of cuffs and chains.

CNC - Nothing like roleplay to spice up your sex life. Whether you are playing a dirty little slut getting arrested or the damsel in distress who owes the big bad cop a thanks. But Walter’s favourite game is when you pretend to not want it. Fight him as much as you want, we both know how it’s going to end. 

Degradation - You will never forget the day you walked home to have Walter put a collar with a chain around your neck. "Get down on your knees," he demanded and as you did he led you to the bedroom where he fucked your face like the dirty little slut you are.

Overstimulation - His coarse beard between your thighs is enough to make you whimper, but that won’t do for Walter. Oh no. What he really wants is to reduce you to a puddle as he eats you out as if the devil is at the door. He won’t stop until you are trembling, shaky thing, relishing in the fact that he has that much power over you.  (Based on a story collab with @wolvesandhoundshowltogether)

Don't be fooled by August's harsh demeanour. Yes he is a killing machine and while he loves to be in charge and can be extremely hard, he also has quite the soft Dom tendencies.

Daddy / Princess dynamics - you are his little princess, the woman he will protect and burn worlds to a cinder if needs be. He loves to buy you pretty dresses and dress you in angelic lingerie. All he wants in return is your devotion and that you will call him daddy. 

Corruption Kink - you are far from being a virgin, but August loves to pretend that you are the purest thing that he gets to defile. Storming into the bedroom, he rips your pretty little dress and your lingerie and fucks each of your holes while he is still in his suit. 

Facial - speaking of defilement, after having you come around his cock, he sometimes likes to pull out and pump himself as he crouched above you. With a grunt, he comes and spills his warm creamy seed all over your face and breasts. “A lovely pearl necklace for my beautiful princess.” 

Breathplay - What says control more than sustaining the air from your lungs? Having you sit on his monstrous cock, he makes you ride him while his fingers are wrapped around your throat. “Come if you want to breathe,” he commands and watches how you forgo your survival instincts for the sake of pleasure.

Praise kink - you are his good girl, and he makes sure to remind you that whether in your daily routine or when he is balls deep inside you. “Good... good girl, such a good girl,” he praises as he watches you spiral into ecstasy.

Aftercare - a good Dom takes aftercare seriously, and August happens to treat him with great responsibility. He keeps a box right next to his bed with essentials such as lotions, oils and everything you may need to feel safe. The first thing he does is check your vitals and press you against his chest, so you will feel protected in his big arms. Then later, once you manage to speak again, he runs a warm bubble bath and carries you to the bathroom, where he bathes and snuggles you for as long as you need. 

For Geralt it’s not about being in charge as much as it’s about the laws of nature. That being said, he wouldn’t mind you assuming control, if you manage to overpower him ;)

Primal Play - Scratching, biting, fighting for control. Geralt can smell your arousal from miles away, and once those intoxicating pheromones hit his nose, he is no better than the monsters he seeks to hunt. Led by one primal instinct to conquer, he tackles you down to the damp grass and tears the clothes right off of you.     

Chasing - Nothing like a good chase to get his blood pumping. Of course, you are no match to the stamina of a witcher, but he gives you a headstart, watching you scamper away like a tender gazelle. You can hide if you want to, but we all know how it will end...

Switching - if by some miracle you managed to outsmart him and gain your way to the top, he would let you have it, enjoying the sight of you riding him like a bloodthirsty succubus while he utters the most obscene profanities. 

Biting - Geralt is quite possessive, and nothing says “mine” more than leaving a mark on your skin. A bite on the neck or your breast would do; that way, when the next idiot stares down your cleavage, he can tell who you belong to. 

While some of his fellow soldiers like to be subbed, Sy is not one of them. Captain in the streets and a Captain between the sheets. 

Oral sex - Indeed, Sy became famous for his skilful tongue. Spreading your thighs, he will dive between them and feast on your peach until you cry for him to fuck you. Seeing you squirm so helpless and submerged in ecstasy, losing all control, is the one thing that gets him off more than anything. Sometimes he would even eat you out while stroking his cock, and when he comes, he comes all over your swollen pussy. 

Stripping - good ol’ cowboy enjoys himself a lap dance. Sitting with a bottle of jack on a hot summer day, he loves to watch you as you seduce him and strip off your hot little outfit. Visibly hard, he adjusts his bulge in his jeans, grinning as you make your way to sit on his lap. He pours the whiskey down your bare breasts and then licks it off with a rumbling groan.  

Double penetration - give him full control and full access, and by that, I mean, let him fuck both your holes simultaneously. Having you on four, he slips a dildo inside your pussy, and then fucks your ass. You never felt so full and so tight in your life. You nearly come on an instant whenever you try it out. 

Auto-exhibition - it might just be that Sy enjoys a good home movie, and by home movie, I mean filming the two of you as you do the deed. There’s nothing like having something to watch later when he is deployed and far away from his baby girl.

Public teasing - Sy’s love language is touch, and sometimes he enjoys touching you when everyone is around. So don’t be surprised if you are having drinks with your friends at the bar when you suddenly feel his fingers sneaking below your skirt. 

[robynlilyblack]

Over the years

Sirius Black x fem! Reader

[Requested – see request here]

Summary: Moments from Y/n and Sirius’ life as they raise Harry together

Warnings: swearing, mentions of James and Lilys death, kissing

A/n: 1.6k words, in this universe jilly does die but Peter is caught and sent to Azkaban, reader is an ex-slytherin. Thank you for the request this was sweet to write, I did change the last little bit of your request I hope you don’t mind it felt nicer to end it like that, enjoy x

Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist

24th of December 1981

“Look Harry” you bob him up and down on your side as you show him the Christmas tree “Santa will be here soon” you nuzzle your nose into his causing him to let out the cutest giggle

Sirius walks in with a blanket for you both stopping at the door as he sees you and Harry, his heart exploding and aching all at once. As he watched you both he smiled, he always knew you’d make an amazing mother, he only wished you both became parents under better circumstances. He missed James and Lily more than anything, it killed him that they would never get to see these moments and Harry wouldn’t get to grow up with them. He shook away his thoughts before he started to tear up, moving to hug you from behind leaning to give you a kiss on the cheek

“Hi darling” he looks at Harry who pouts “You want one too” he leans forward kissing the boy’s cheek making him burst out in smiles

He turns to look at your face noticing you look a bit sad “You okay?”

“He hasn’t spoken since…” you couldn’t say it, still hurt so much “he makes the cutest noises but what if he saw it and never speaks again” you try to hold back your sniffles as you rock Harry whose attention has now been caught by one of the bobbles on the tree

Sirius tightens is grip on your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple “He’ll talk when he’s ready” he looks at Harry a bit of mischief appears in his smile “I bet he’ll say Pads or Sirius first”

You look at him “He won’t I’m his favourite he’ll say y/n” you gain Harry’s attention again “Won’t you Harry, can you say y/n for me” you try to coax the boy but he just giggles

“What about pads, can you say pads for your uncle Sirius” Sirius tries as well but Harry scrunches up his face making you giggle

“I think I’ve got better odds darling” you bite you lip looking at him “What are the stakes?”

“Dishes for a week” he poses raising an eyebrow at you

“Deal”

8th of March, 1982

“When your auntie y/n gets back from the shops I need you to say pads for me okay, Sirius even just anything along those lines” Sirius tries to barging with Harry as he sits on the floor while Harry plays with some toys in front of him

The boy looks up at him almost as if to say ‘why are you interrupting my play time’ “Please Moonys coming to stay this week for his birthday and do you have any idea how much that man eats” Sirius half pleads with the kid, face softening at Harrys giggle at him

“Hey troubles” y/n comes into the room placing down the grocery bags on the floor

Harrys eyes light up, shakily standing up to run up to you “Mommy!” he makes grabby hands

Yours and Sirius’ eyes widen, you start tearing up “Did you just call me mommy?” you ask as you pick him up

Harry pouts in your arms trying to wipe the tears “mommy don cry”

“No honey these are happy tears” you hold him tight to your chest, Harry gripping your shirt tightly

You turn to Sirius who also had tears of joy in his eyes walking up to kiss your forehead whispering “I love you”

Smiling back, you lean up to kiss him properly “I love you too”

As you pull back you smirk “What” he tilts his head

“That counts” you raise your eyebrows

“Fuck” he curses shaking his head, starting to chuckle

“Fuck” your heads shoot down to Harry, Sirius puts his hand over his mouth to stop from laughing

“Siri!”

24th of May, 1985

“Siri you seen my shirt” you scrabble to get your clothes on knowing Remus would be back any minute with Harry

“Try near the desk in the bedroom I’m sure I threw it in that general direction” Sirius replies as he finishes getting his own clothes on, zipping up his trousers as he hears Remus come in

“Guys” you and can hear the tone in Remus’ voice warning you that you both better be dressed “We’re back”

Sirius comes into the room “Harry, you have a nice day with your uncle Moony” luckily the boys too excited to see his messy hair and flushed cheeks

Harry beams up at him “Yeah! We went to this park and this lady had these little pink bouncy creatures and she let me hold one, and then we got ice-cream!” he excitingly replies jumping up and down as Remus chuckles behind him

Sirius’ hair moves a bit revealing his neck causing Harry to furrow his eyebrows “Daddy what happened to your neck” he pouts thinking his dad got hurt

“Oh” he places his hand over his neck as Remus tries not to giggle as he shakes his head “Hit it on a…door” Remus facepalms at the terrible excuse

“Hey Harry you have a good time!” you finally walk in

“Mommy!” Harry runs up to you jumping into your arms

“There’s the door now” Remus smirks motioning to your shirt

You look down realising its not only inside out but also the wrong way around, Sirius starts chuckling as Remus just shakes his head at his friends

“Oops”

Your birthday, 1986

“Happy Birthday mum! I made you a card and I got you this” Harry hands you a little card and a drawing of you, Sirius and harry with the name’s ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ above you a Sirius

Sirius pressed a kiss to your cheek as you smile at the drawing “Do you like it?” he looks up at you with big doe eyes

“I love it sweetie” you pull him into a hug

5th of August, 1989

“Mum, Dad?” Harry walks into the kitchen with a thoughtful look

“What’s up?” Sirius pats the seat next to him as you move from the sink over to the table, leaning a hand on the back of your husband’s chair

“Well…” he looks at you both nervously “…I was wondering…” he smiles at you putting on his best puppy eyes

“Wondering what?” you extend the syllables

“If we could get a dog” he looks between you both leaning his head forward a bit as he gauged your reactions

You start giggling a little bit as Sirius smiles “What?” Harry sits up a bit completely confused

“I think it’s time we told him” you say as you squeeze Sirius’ shoulder

“Told me what?”

Sirius stands up moving away from the table as Harry turns into his seat to watch. His eyes widen as Sirius shifts into a dog, completely bewildered

“Harry meet snuffles” you and Harry start laughing as your husband huffs in hid dog form

31st of July, 1991

“MOM! DAD!” Harry comes sprinting into the room “It came” he shouts excitedly holding up his Hogwarts letter

1st of September, 1991

“Oh” Sirius looks down the platform “I’ll be back in a minute I need to tell Molly thank you for Arthurs mods on the bike” he presses a kiss to your cheek and winks at Harry

You smile before it drops seeing Harry looking nervous, kneeling down to check something on the trolley “You okay?” you join him kneeling on the floor

He looks up at you, his eyes a wash of worries “Do you think I’ll be a Gryffindor like you and…and them?”

“Aww sweetie” you reach out to take his hands in yours “No matter what house you’re placed in we will love you. Your house doesn’t define the kind of person you are, so whether you are placed in Gryffindor or not we are so proud of you. And…” you look over towards Sirius who has gotten distracted with something the twins are showing him “Siri and your parents were Gryffindor but I was a Slytherin”

“You were” he looks shocked but smiles

“Yup, so when the time comes and that hat is placed on your head, remember to follow what’s in here and fuck everyone else” you point to his heart as he smiles “and don’t tell your dad I said fuck, although in my defence he taught you it first when you were one” you giggle together

Sirius tugs you closer as you both watch Harry wave from the window alongside Ron. You start to sniffle a bit as the train disappears out of sight “He’s all grown up”

Your husband places a kiss to your temple “We did a good job”

“We did” you smile sadly “I wish they were here, they would be so proud of the man he’s becoming”

He moves to look at you cupping your cheek “They are, I promise prongs and red are somewhere out there smiling”

As you both walk off Sirius squeezes your hand “Months washing he’s Gryffindor”

“I wouldn’t be so sure but you’re on mister”

4th of September, 1991

“We have to stop betting on Harry” Sirius comes with Harrys letter in his hand, fake annoyance on his head

“Why because you always lose” you smirk at him

He places down the letter, walking up to you scooping you up and onto the table behind you “Hey” you giggle at him as he captures your lips

“You are the only person I don’t mind losing too, although it would have been nice to win at least one” he says as he pulls back sighing as he runs his hands up and down your sides

“Maybe you will with the next one” his eyes light up one hand moving to your stomach

“Your?”

“Yup” you nod smiling

You sequel as he picks you up twirling you around “Siri!”

[falcqns]

Could you make a fluff to angst fic where the reader is Chris evans step daughter and she has a half sister thats close in age and was born on her birthday her sister is favorited and blames her for things she didn’t do like bringing people over,bullying etc....

(if your uncomfy with writing this I apologize feel free to ignore)

𝖓𝖊𝖜 𝖇𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

☼ 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Chris Evans x stepdaughter!Reader

☼ 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔨𝔫𝔤𝔰: mentions of learning disabilities, mentions of absent fathers, mentions of death, mentions of cancer, running away, divorce, adoption, angst, fluff.

☼ 𝔞/𝔫: okay i think i'm interpreting this correctly; sometimes my brain jumbles things up!! but, i hope you enjoy!!

you stormed into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. you flopped on your bed, allowing your pillowcase to soak up all your tears.

15 years of this shit. 15 years of being blamed, being yelled at, being labeled the 'problem child'. 15 years of your sister. you were 16. you turned 16 a week ago, the same day your younger sister turned 15. you expected your sweet 16 to be a joyous day, but it just so happened to be the day that final marks for the school year were released, and of course, your younger sisters marks were much higher than yours, and you got yelled at, while she got praised.

it wasn't that you didn't do your work, it was that you didn't understand the material, no matter how hard you tried. the words seemed to jumble on the page, and no matter how hard you tried, the material would not remain in your brain.

but, that never seemed to matter to your mother. all she cared about were the grades. no matter how many times you insisted that you must have some sort of learning disability, that you needed to be tested, that you would even pay for the diagnosis, you were dismissed, and labeled as lazy. you were compared to your sister, and encouraged to be more like her.

you thought things would change when your stepdad moved in. that he would see how you were struggling, and that you needed help. that he'd see how your mother didn't care. but he didn't. he always took your mothers side, insisting if you just tried harder, you could do it. he was nicer about it at least. he was more encouraging, much more soft spoken, but that didn't change how you felt.

until tonight.

you screamed into the pillow, hoping that that would release your frustrations, but it didn't. you heard your mom stomping up the stairs that were just outside your bedroom, and down the hallway to her shared bedroom with Chris. your sisters footsteps followed, and entered the room next to yours.

you were done. completely, and utterly done. all you wanted was a family that loved and appreciated you, but you couldn't even have that because your mom had to go and get pregnant barely 4 months after you were born, and have your sister with your first stepdad, who didn't stick around, unlike your father, who was forced out of your life by your mother, only to die from cancer when you were three.

you simply couldn't take it anymore. you wiped your remaining tears away. you stood from the bed, and walked over to the closet, and pulled out your adidas duffel bag. you grabbed your favourite clothing items from your closet, and rolled them up as small as you could. you put them in the duffel, followed by some undergarments, and after a quick dash to the bathroom across the hall that you shared with your mom and Chris, you added your toiletries as well. you grabbed your backpack from the desk chair, and stuffed it full of your electronics. you grabbed the chargers, and stuffed them in as well.

you emptied the contents of your purse into the remaining space of your backpack, hoping that the large purse would be big enough for some water bottles and other assorted food. you made sure you had your wallet, and with a last look around your bedroom, you were headed out.

you headed down the stairs slowly, glad that Chris took Dodger with him to set, you knew you wouldn't be able to leave if you had to face the dog. you placed your bags down on the couch, and took your purse into the kitchen. you put 4 water bottles in your purse, as well as some non perishables such as pop tarts, bread, the jar of peanut butter, and 3 soup cans. it wouldn't last too long, but it should sustain you enough to find a cheap restaurant or store, where ever you ended up going.

you walked back into the living room and picked up your things, before heading towards the door. you slipped on your shoes, and grabbed your car keys off of the hook, and headed out to your car. you threw your bags in the back, and hopped in the front seat.

as you pulled out of the driveway, you took a deep breath, knowing that this could very well be the last time that you set foot in that house.

you drove for hours. you crossed state lines, and ended up in new york. you checked into the first hotel you saw, in Albany.

you double and triple checked that you parked your car, before you lugged your bags up to your room. you took a deep breath, knowing you were finally free.

you dropped your bags next to the bed, and flopped down on top of it. you passed out before you even hit the pillow.

you woke up the next morning, and after a nice hotel breakfast, you headed out to the nearest grocery store, before you were heading back to the hotel with some groceries, and plans to look for somewhere to stay. thank god for your fake I.D..

but, those plans were crushed, when you walked in the hotel lobby, and saw Chris standing at the front desk, begging with the concierge to tell him what room you were staying in.

"please, i'm her step father. she ran away last night, and-"

"i am sorry sir, but i cannot give away confidential guest information."

you sighed, and walked up to him. "what are you doing here?" you asked, and he flipped around.

"oh my god, y/n. thank god." he said, pulling you into his arms, and taking shaky breaths. "thank god you're safe."

you pulled away and looked him in the eyes. "how did you find me?"

Chris chuckled. "next time you want to run away, don't use the debit card on the account that your mother has access to." he said, and you mentally slapped yourself.

"please," you said, practically begging. "don't make me go back there."

Chris shook his head, and looked around the lobby. "can we talk in your room?" he asked and you nodded, leading him out of the lobby.

once the door shut behind you, you dropped your bags and looked at him.

"i don't want to go back." you said confidently, and Chris nodded, sitting on your bed.

"you have to. but, your mother won't be there." he said, and you furrowed your brows.

"what?"

Chris looked up at you, a sorrowful look across his features. "i checked the cameras last night, just before the plane landed. and my heart fucking broke, y/n. i saw your mother and sister screaming at you, over something that wasn't even your fault. you didn't break that plate did you?" he asked, and you shook your head. "y/s/n broke it and blamed it on you, didn't she?" you nodded, tears welling up in your eyes.

"then, once i landed, i saw you taking your bags to your car, and leaving. you want to know what i found out yesterday morning from your teachers?" you nodded, sniffling.

"i called your teachers to try and find you some help because your mother refused to, and they could only say good things about you. about how hard working you are. how quiet you are during lessons, but still answering questions. how you ask for help, and have even arranged for help after school. then, i asked about y/s/n. turns out, she's not the angel your mom thinks she is. she's been paying for another kid to do her homework and tests for her, and that's why she's been getting such good grades. your mom has a meeting next week, and she thinks its about y/s/n getting an award, but its really about what she's been doing." you gulped, shocked.

you pinched your brow. "w-what do you mean my mom won't be there?" Chris shook his head, and sniffled.

"i kicked her out. and y/s/n. we're getting a divorce-" he started to explain, and you shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. knowing that Chris saw that you weren't lazy, that you weren't a problem child changed your entire view of him. you knew he was going to be the only protection from your mother and sister.

"no. no, no, no, no-" you said, shaking your head. "you can't do that, i need at least one person who's on my side in this family please don't do this." you begged, and Chris reached out for you.

"no, no, no, y/n. you didn't let me finish." he said, and you calmed enough to look him in the eye. "i kicked your mother and y/s/n out, but not you. you're staying."

"w-what?"

Chris nodded, watching as realization spread across your face. "you're staying with me. your mother already agreed to it, and is letting me adopt you. they're leaving, but you're staying."

you took in a shuddering breath, and smiled, before wrapping your arms around him as he continued. "i called your doctor today, and you have an assessment with him to find out about your learning disabilities next Monday. i'm going to get you help, and i promise that you will never feel what you felt with them ever again." he whispered, and he held you in his arms as you cried, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

you sniffled, and snuggled closer, happy that finally, someone understands you.

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Little Sister

Summary: You're the adopted child of Alexei and Melina, and then one day your sisters stop by

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff & Yelena Belova & Sister!Reader

Word Count: 5133

Warnings: Language

A/N: Another one of the fics I wrote before I had this account, but it might be one of my favourites. The spy family is so fun.

The Russian comes from google translate, so probably inaccurate, but I’ve put the translation that I put in next to it.

—————————————————

“I was really counting on you to know where the Red Room was” Natasha sighed, sat across from her sister.

“Well I don’t. If you want to find out you need someone more superior than just a Widow”

That flicked a switch and the redhead sat up straight, tilting her head at Yelena, “you reckon Alexei would help us? or Melina?”

“Mom and dad?”

“Yeah, they were superiors”

“20 years ago sure, and how would we even find them?”

Natasha scoffed at the blonde’s doubts, “we’re Black Widows, we are literally trained to track people down”.

—————————————————

“There is literally no trace of Melina anywhere” Natasha complained. They’d rented a motel and gotten to work tracking their old parents. “It’s like she doesn’t exist”

Yelena shrugged, “she was kind, that was always a weakness. Dreykov probably had her killed.”

“That’s a shame”

“Yeah”

Neither spoke in the tone you would expect after learning that your mother is dead. It was much more resigned. Almost a nostalgic sigh at what they’d enjoyed as a child, but inevitably grown beyond.

“I’ve found Alexei at least” Yelena spoke a few minutes later, breaking the silence that had fallen.

“Where?”

“St Petersburg, a few security cameras have caught him walking around. He seems to go food shopping at least once a week.”

“He must live nearby then”

“He hasn’t been out in the last five days, so he may come out soon”

“I’ll call Mason, ask for a jet so we can get there tomorrow. We find him, follow, then intercept”

—————————————————

They didn’t get a jet. Instead, they had to land just outside of St Petersburg in an old, beaten down, Russian helicopter.

“You’re still wearing the vest?”

“Of course, it’s handy. Why would I not?”

“Because we have to blend in? Alexei isn’t meant to see us until we want him to, and you’re walking around like you’re about to go fishing. It doesn’t go with my outfit.”

Yelena looked her sister up and down. Admittedly she had dressed a lot nicer; tight black trousers paired with a button-up shirt, plus a tan coloured woollen coat. Not to mention the thigh-high black boots and sunglasses. Meanwhile, Yelena was content with combat boots, leggings, and a long-sleeved t-shirt under the vest. 

“Fine, give me the coat then”

“What? No, this is mine. You should have packed your own.”

“I escaped the Red Room about a week ago, you’re lucky I even have these clothes”. At Natasha’s groan, the younger widow only got more insistent, “the vest is the only thing keeping me warm right now, give me the coat and I won’t even need it.”

“That vest is not keeping you warm”

“Yes, it is”

“No, it’s not. It doesn’t even have arms”

“Doesn’t need them. The chest is the only part that has to stay warm. Arms and legs are not essential, they can lose some heat. You know this Natasha”

“Of course I know that! I’ve used it to kill-, you know what, fine, take the coat, I’ve had enough of arguing”

Yelena smiled smugly as the fabric was thrust into her arms, shrugging it over herself. “Cold, Nat?” she goaded, noticing her sister’s attempts to hide her shaking.

“I don’t get cold” the older woman scowled,

“Yes, you’re shivering. Going west has made you soft Natasha” Yelena continued in her teasing.

Natasha was about to retort but suddenly stopped herself, pulling Yelena into her side. “He’s across the road, walking opposite direction to us” she mumbled downwards. A second later, Yelena took a glance around, spotting their target exactly where Natasha had described. “He’ll be behind us in about ten seconds, we have to turn around”. 

Yelena nodded, waiting those seconds before making her excuse, “о, черт, я думаю, что оставил свой телефон в машине” (oh shit, I think I left my phone in the car)

Natasha caught on, continuing the exchange, “о нет, правда?  мы можем вернуться” (oh no, really? We can go back)

“да, мы должны извините” (yeah, we should, sorry)

Natasha nodded in reply, and soon the two of them turned around and Yelena stopped her charade of patting her pockets for the mystery phone (since she didn’t even have one).

They continued their walk, following a good distance behind Alexei until he reached the outskirts of town. At that point, there were too few people to hide behind, and also no witnesses for what went down.

Natasha sped up her walking pace and ducked into a side alley, while Yelena continued to follow behind. The alley continued parallel to the main road, and soon enough the redhead re-emerged in Alexei’s path, gun raised.

“Don’t threaten- Natasha?” the man exclaimed, relaxing his defensive pose as soon as he recognised the woman in front of him.

“Alexei” she gritted out, and he chuckled,

“Why the gun? You know I can take a hit”

“Not to the head” Natasha muttered, then continued in a regular voice, “last time we saw each other, you sold me and Yelena out to the Red Room. Excuse me if I’m cautious that that doesn’t happen again.”

Her eyes flicked briefly behind the man as she spoke, and he soon turned, grin widening at the sight. “Yelena! Both of you together again!”. She also had a gun pointed at him, but he would expect nothing less.

Natasha saw her sister flinch at the address, and worked to keep the conversation between her and her fake father, “we need to know where the Red Room is” she scowled, lowering the pistol. She remained vigilant, but the man himself seemed to pose no threat, and they needed his cooperation.

“Straight to the point. Good to see Natasha” he nodded, “but if you think I’d know then you’re wrong”

The Black Widows exchanged a frustrated look. He was their only lead and they knew he wasn’t lying, but it was hard to believe they’d done all that for nothing.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Natasha scolded, “you’re Dreykov’s right-hand man”

Alexei looked down, beginning to kick the ground with the tip of his shoe. “WAS. After the mission in Ohio, he kicked me out, realised I wasn’t as essential as we’d all believed. He was going to throw me in jail but Melina interceded on my behalf.”

“Wait. Mom Melina?” Yelena interrupted to a nod.

“Yeah, Dreykov’s favourite. Meant I was only forcibly retired instead” he pouted, then came to some realisation. “If you’re looking for the Red Room, why don’t you ask her? She’d know.”

“She’s alive?”

“We thought she died”, the women answered simultaneously.

Alexei grinned, with an odd expression on his face, “you can’t kill a fox that swift”

“Gross”

“No. Don’t do that”

“What?!” he exclaimed in response to their negative reactions.

“Just-, where is she?” Natasha questioned, shaking her head,

“Outside of town. I was going back there before you decided to hold me at gunpoint. Come on, Melina’s going to love this reunion.”

The girls exchanged a look, but followed, “you live together?”

Alexei chuckled again, pointing at the silver band on his ring finger, “that is what married couples do.”

“You were fake married”

“And we got real married. We would have invited you two but you were- you know-” he mimicked shooting a gun.

“In the Red Room? being tortured, forced to kill and unwillingly sterilised because of you?” Yelena finished with a scowl, pushing past her old father figure to walk alongside Natasha.

“Ah, look girls...” Alexei hurried to catch them up as the house came into their sight. “Melina may be a bit surprised to see you. Happy, just surprised. Could you just not attack anyone while we’re home. There’s no setup I promise, it’s just...”

Yelena turned, eyeing him with a scowl while walking backwards, “what are you hiding?”

“I just don’t want anyone to get hurt,” he said reluctantly, and she scoffed,

“Did mom get hurt? because otherwise, she can take care of herself”. Natasha spared a glance towards Yelena, surprised at how easily she’d said ‘mom’.

“She’s not hurt, probably in better shape than even actually”

“Then what’s the actual problem?”

Alexei’s eyes drifted beyond the women to the other side of the gate, where Melina stood beside her pigpen, rifle in hand, watching them.

“Oh yeah, and we’re the problem,” Yelena said sarcastically as she turned around, half forgetting the interrogation she had just been performing.

“Honey, we’re home!” Alexei called out jokingly, a smile across his face. Melina returned a tighter version, still keeping an eye on the newcomers. After a moment of silence, however, she set down the gun gently and held her hands up.

“See, I told you” Alexei goaded, “so take your hands off the pistols.” Natasha nodded, slowly and silently moving her hands from her waist; Yelena did the same, clinging to her vest instead. “And knives Yelena.” The woman pouted but did as she was told, setting her hands out in front of her.

All four of them knew it was just for show, they could all easily have a weapon in hand in the blink of an eye, not that they even needed weapons to fight well in the first place.

“Did you tell them?” were the first words Melina spoke, directed at her husband. He shook his head no. Natasha and Yelena exchanged a look but decided better than to question in.

“I know it’s been 21 years since we were a family, but we need to know where the Red Room is,” Natasha said bluntly. Melina swore quietly, but nodded, 

“We should go inside, get some drinks”

“I’ll get Y/N”

“Who’s Y/N?”

—————————————————

Y/N’s POV

You’d been in your room until the intruder alert sounded. Your dad was out, but he knew to turn it off, so you hid in the safe room while your mum went out to check. You knew what she did for a living, so you could trust her to take care of the threat, if it wasn’t just your dad forgetting to turn the alarm off again, that is, then she’d become the threat.

You remained silent in the locked room, even when a knock sounded on the door, until your dad’s voice gave you the OK to come out. He stood with an honest smile when you opened it,

“Did you forget to turn it off?” you questioned, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before... a few times.

His smile turned into more of a grimace, “not exactly... we have visitors. I wanted to talk to your mother before we introduced you.”

“Are they... are they from work?”

He took a moment to calculate a response, before settling on the truth with a sigh, “it’s your sisters”

Excitement bubbled to the surface, and from your dad’s chuckle, it was clearly visible. “Natasha and Yelena?”

He nodded, but hummed, “remember, they don’t know you”

“I know, I know, but I never thought I’d actually meet them.”

“Grab a couple of vodka bottles and we’ll go make introductions.”

You bounded after him, not questioning the need for four bottles of vodka, you'd seen your parents drink before and they could handle a lot, so presumably, Natasha and Yelena were the same.

The excitement waned as you actually followed your dad into the room, when you saw the two women turn to stare at you in confusion. You caught your mother's eye and she gave you a reassuring smile.

Nobody spoke as the drinks were set down, the only noise was the scraping of your father pulling out the head chair to sit in. Of course, they'd been a family before you'd come along, so naturally resorted to their old seats. You gulped when you realised that meant you'd have to sit next to someone you'd never met before. Unless you chose the other head of the table, but that seemed a bit rude.

"Y/N, take a seat. " Your mother's voice broke you out of the panic, and you hurried around the table to sit next to Natasha, keeping the seating even. Neither her nor Yelena took their eyes off of you for the entire trip, so you gave them both a nervous smile and a 'hi'.

They slowly turned to your parents once you were sat, silently questioning your presence without wanting to be rude and ask you yourself. You were thankful for that at least.

"Natasha, Yelena, this is Y/N" your father explained,

"Hi" you greeted again with a small wave. Yelena returned it.

"She's our daughter, your sister"

"What?!" the two exclaimed at once. Yelena even began to choke on nothing, getting some back pats from Melina afterwards. You stayed quiet through the encounter, but a slight smirk pulled at your lips due to the reaction.

"Not...biological, right?" Natasha asked when she finally came back to her senses, eyeing you suspiciously.

Melina was still patting Yelena's back to help with the coughing fits, but she shook her head. "Adopted. Found her walking around in the snow"

"She's a tough one" your dad grinned

"Oh, well you found a kid! I'm surprised you didn't hand her right over to Dreykov" Yelena scowled. You hadn't exactly been told what happened at the end of the Ohio mission, but it wasn't difficult to work out.

Honestly, you did love Melina and Alexei, they were your parents as far as it went, and they'd taken good care of you for eleven years, but they weren't exactly good people in the typical sense. You also knew they were terrible at accepting their guilt.

So when, to you, they were the obviously guilty party in this family feud, you knew the dinner wasn't going to be ending well. You tried to shrink into your seat, drawing your legs into your chest and picking at the food on your plate. The faster you could finish, the faster you could leave, and the less likely it would be that you would get drawn into the argument.

"Hey". You glanced up, noticing Natasha watching you. Her expression had gone from confusion to kindness, and you wondered whether she'd switched into 'Avengers' mode, whether this was how she calmed civilians in a battle zone.

Yelena was still arguing with your parents, so it might as well be soon.

"I'm Natasha"

You smiled, "Yeah, I know, they talk about you a lot", you nodded your head towards the Russian couple, "plus you're an Avenger and all that"

"They talk about me?" she asked, raising a single eyebrow.

"Yeah" you nodded, talking a bit more excitedly, "you were on TV during the Battle of New York... uh, obviously. But they pointed you out, told me that was my sister saving the world. They tell a lot of stories about Ohio actually."

She smiled wider at your confession, and you thought it seemed genuine, "so how old are you?"

"14"

Her smile faltered slightly, and her voice trailed off, "you're so young..."

You nodded, because there was nothing else you could say. Something had caused a sudden change in mood from her, and her eyes weren't even focused on you as she said it.

"You want vodka?" you snapped your head towards Yelena, noticing her holding a bottle and a shot glass out for you.

"Yelena, she's 14" Natasha interrupted, and the blonde shrugged in reply,

"so?"

"I'm fine, thank you" you declined, causing a questioning look from Yelena.

"She's a rule follower that one" Alexei explained, "like her mother"

"I don't think mum is exactly a paragon of legality," you said hesitantly, if she was then she probably wouldn’t have needed a ‘no murders in front of the child’ rule.

"Like her sister then. An Avenger!" your dad continued proudly, getting strained looks from everyone else at the table.

"Natasha? Who is on the run from the US government?" Yelena scoffed.

He shrugged, "aren't we all?"

You could only roll your eyes when the other two women begrudgingly agreed.

"Look, as nice as it is to meet Y/N, can we get back to the actual reason we're here-"

"Natasha, don't slouch" Melina interrupted, backed by Alexei trying to correct her posture.

You made eye contact with Yelena and she sighed, rolling her eyes with a playful smirk before downing another shot of vodka. Clearly, she'd leant something from your parents. You also noticed she, like you, had subtly corrected her posture, showing off in front of the family.

As soon as all eyes were off of you, you muttered an excuse to go to the bathroom, then headed to your room. It seemed too personal a matter for you to be there for since you'd never had to go through the things they did. Plus, arguments were inbound, and you didn't think Natasha would take the time to distract you again.

You sighed once the door shut, muffling the sounds of the argument, before flopping onto your bed. All that led to was more thinking, which you tired of, and you quickly moved to your desk to make a start on the homework you'd been set for the week. You were homeschooled though, so really all work was homework, your parents just decided that you needed more.

The sudden opening of your door made you snap your head up. You locked eyes with a tearful looking Yelena, cradling a vodka bottle in her free hand. "Is this your room?" she asked flatly. You nodded. "Sorry, I didn't..." She began to leave, but you called out to stop her.

"If you're trying to avoid mum and dad, you can stay here, this- they shouldn't follow you in here... if you want" you offered meekly.

She nodded silently and shut the door, sitting on the edge of your bed. "What are you doing here? Didn't you say you were going to the toilet?"

Damn spies being so observant, of course she noticed. "Avoiding everyone" you replied with a shrug, she sniggered.

You gave up completely on your work and turned around in your chair to face her. "What did they do this time?" you asked. She looked up at you with a pause, testing whether to tell you or not. It was a look you were very familiar with.

"I was three when the Ohio mission started, six by the end," she relented, taking swigs of vodka between sentences, "I didn't know about the Red Room or anything else, they were family and that was all I knew. No one told me that it wasn't real. They all knew. The best part of my life and they still make out that it wasn't real"

You weren't sure exactly what to say, or why you'd volunteered to support her through this, but she continued despite your silence.

"And now Natasha, the one person who tried to stop them from taking me, says that it still wasn't even real."

There was a long pause after she was done, not an awkward one, it just took you time to formulate a good enough response. "I think they're all saying it to cope. I mean, I wasn't even alive so I can't say for sure, but mum and dad certainly treated it like it was real."

She raised an eyebrow at you, suddenly looking very similar to Natasha. "Did they talk about it a lot?"

You nodded. “All the time. You know I was three when they found me? I think they only took me in because I reminded them of you, of the mistake they made giving you away.”

“I am sure there are many other reasons too, you seem very smart” she smiled, suddenly taking on the role of the older sister, and you found yourself blushing,

“I was three, they couldn’t have known that yet” you muttered, and she smirked again,

“You were born in 2002?”

“Yeah... why?”

“I have to make sure I have my life story up to scratch. Add that I have a little sister now”

You smiled at each other, then her eyes widened, “does that mean I’m a middle sibling now?”

You laughed, “yeah, it does”

“Damn it” she cursed quietly, “I liked winding people up”

“You’ll always have youngest child privilege, don’t let me take that away from you” you joked, “and we can always team up”

Her head snapped up at the last suggestion, and she held her hand out for you to shake. You took it.

—————————————————

“Y/N? Yelena?” Natasha’s voice called and a knock soon sounded on your door.

“You can come in,” you said, letting her open the door herself.

“You could have told me you were both hiding out in here, I had to deal with them both by myself for the last ten minutes”, she turned directly to you, "they make so many sexual innuendos in your absence"

"Trust me, they don't wait for my absence" you sighed, if you had any innocence to begin with, it was shattered long ago.

"I'm so sorry Y/N," Yelena said, pulling you closer and offering the vodka bottle again.

This time, you accepted and held it for about a second before Natasha snatched it away. "You've corrupted her already?" she angrily accused Yelena, and the two of you began to laugh.

"It's empty, Natasha" your sister highlighted, bringing out a frustrated groan from Natasha when she realised she'd fallen for it.

"Anyway, we're finally formulating a plan, and the two of you need to be there. Don't leave me alone again" she threatened with a point, turning on her heel and returning to the dining room.

You and Yelena trailed behind and returned to your seats. "Long bathroom break Y/N" your mother commented with a raised eyebrow. You declined to comment.

"Can we get back to the plan?" Natasha saved,

"Yes, yes. My protocol should have been to trigger the alarm when you turned up and then stall for time, but I didn't. That would have put Y/N at risk."

"Favouritism much" Yelena grumbled, but you caught the glint in her eye that implied she was just joking.

"But if you really want to go to the Red Room I can trigger it now and we get ready. Natasha and I will switch, so she can take on Dreykov while I override the cells. Yelena, you go find the serum with Alexei and free the other Widows. I will work on bringing the Red Room to land."

"To land?" Yelena asked,

"Yes, it's harder to locate if it's in the air"

"That explains a lot"

"Yes. Now Natasha cannot wear an earpiece when she poses as me, and I know the base best, so Yelena and I will have the pair. Alexei, it might... mess with your fight"

"I see"

"And Y/N, you stay in the safe room overnight, okay? Make sure there is no one left here when you come out. And get back if you see anyone coming, even if you think it's us, understood?"

You nodded, having carried out this protocol before. They had a code to access the room when they were back, and a codeword to confirm it was them, face mimicking tech was too easy to get ahold of, and you couldn’t be too safe.

"It shouldn't take long" Melina finished. You knew that meant to find help if they weren't back in a few days. The plan had always been to call the Avengers and ask for Natasha, they'd even hacked SHIELD to find Fury's personal number, but that wasn't much of a solution when Natasha was going with them. If worse came to worst you had to trust that calling him would be enough.

After the plan was developed, you all split off in different ways. Alexei and Yelena to get into their outfits; Natasha and Melina to learn different mannerisms and go through the finer details of the plan. And then you. You didn't have anything to prepare, so you settled on cleaning the table instead.

Predictably, Yelena was the first one out. "Nervous?" she asked, taking a seat beside you at the table.

"I feel I should be asking you that. I'm not the one attacking the Red Room head-on"

She shrugged, "I've spent my life preparing for this. You, however, are 14 and preparing for your house to be overrun with soldiers and spies."

"Have you not seen mum and dad? That's just a normal day"

She chuckled at your comment, "If we survive I'll come back and stay and then the house can be even more overrun, how about that?"

"Please survive then"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I want to have an actual sister, and I've already heard loads about you"

"I'll do my best then" she reassured, "do you think Natasha would introduce us to her Avenger friends?"

"Aren't half of them in prison, and the other half hunting her?"

"She can lead them here and then get caught. We would meet them. Her sacrifice would be for the greater good."

You laughed at the thought, "I'm sure she'd do that" you replied sarcastically,

"She would, she's very... hero-y," Yelena told you, "but you are right, they are too dumb to catch a Black Widow. Shame."

"I didn't say that"

"What about the American- Rogers. He's on the run too"

"that'd go great with dad", your voice was laced in sarcasm again and she nodded.

"Hmm, yes, sworn enemies who have only ever met in his mind, and all that. They need a buffer."

"More than just us"

"So we sacrifice Natasha, easy"

"That's two plans where Natasha gets sacrificed" you pointed out,

"She threw me into the cabinet of my own home" Yelena shrugged,

"You deserved it." Natasha came from nowhere, now clad in your mother's suit.

"Now, now girls, play nice," said mother scolded, returned by an eye roll directed to you from both sisters.

Melina walked up to Natasha, pressing something on her neck, and then in an instant had her own face reflected back at her.

"That's... really creepy," you say, more so when the wigs were put on and Natasha did the same for your mum.

"You don't say" Yelena replied

—————————————————

"It still fits!" Alexei grinned, finally emerging from the bathroom, "does it still look as good as you remember honey?" he asked to Natasha, still disguised as Melina. She had his arms pinned the second he tried to wrap them around her.

"That's Natasha" your mother explained, as Natasha, leaving Alexei very confused. Still, Yelena prompted Natasha to release him and pulled her over to where you were standing.

"But you still look very sexy" non-Natasha continued, and you cringed just as much as Yelena and the real Natasha.

"Please never say that in my body ever again" she grimaced.

"It needed saying!"

"No it didn't"; "It really did not"; "no need". The three of you backed each other up on that point, and a proud smile formed on Melina's face (though technically it was Natasha's face?)

"Y/N, you've moved all your stuff to the safe room?"

"Yes mum”

“And you have your food?”

“Of course”

“Then you should probably head off, they’re almost here”

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to see Natasha (with Melina’s face... it was very weird). She pulled you into a hug and whispered a ‘stay safe’ into your ear.

“You too” you answered. You didn’t miss the fact that she had been holding Yelena back with a hand just so she could hug you first, but when she removed it the younger sister pushed forwards and pulled you into another hug.

“I’ll see you when I’m back. I can teach you all the youngest child tricks,” she smirked, then handed you off to your parents.

“This is a risky mission and I don’t want them finding you, okay? So don’t take any chances”

“I won’t, I promise”

“Remember we love you, and we’ll be back soon”

“Love you too”. You gave one last wave goodbye to the four of them, then locked yourself in the safe room.

—————————————————

The Evening After

You heard voices, Russian. Logically, you assumed it was your family back, but you still stayed quiet, even more so when you realised there were far more than four voices, and Natasha’s American accent wasn’t even one of them.

The door clicked unlocked and you grabbed the gun. By this point, it should only be your family who could do that, but, being trained by spies, you were raised to be more cautious than that. So even as your mother limped in, you didn’t lower the gun.

“It’s a snowy day today,” she said calmly

“Makes it harder to stay hidden” you followed

“You’re tough enough to make it work” she finished and you set the gun down, running up to hug her.

“You’re injured” you stated bluntly and she nodded

“Thank god one of my children is smart enough to notice that. We have company.”

You looked beyond the door, a whole troop of Widows in the lounge. “This should be fun” 

Predictably, at least ten guns were aimed at you the second you came into view. You didn’t flinch, but still, your mother moved her body to stand in front of you. Yelena emerged from the crowd as well, instructing the Widows to lower their weapons, which they all reluctantly did.

“That’s my sister” she informed them, letting them return to mingling in the living room before she approached you. “Told you I’d be back” she whispered during the hug,

“Are you staying?”

“For now”

“Are they all staying?”

“No.”

The two of you returned to your bedroom and shut the door, isolating yourselves to talk privately. “We brought down the Red Room, freed these Widows,” she explained, “but there’s more around the globe. Mom’s synthesising more of the serum to free them, then begin running operations to free the others.”

“Okay, that’s good, but what happened to Natasha?” You’d seen your dad walking through the crowd earlier, and obviously, you’d seen your mother and Yelena, but your other sister seemed to have gone.

“We were supposed to call Ross to arrest Dreykov, but I killed him before he could get away.”

“OK”

“Which meant Ross was waiting for Natasha when we landed, and she had to stall him so we could get away”

“He didn’t get her though, did he?”

“It’d be all over the news if he did. She’s still free, don’t worry.” Yelena’s words reassured you, and you hoped Natasha would be able to come and see you again soon.

But for now, you had your parents back, you got to have the older sister you always dreamed about around, and you had Natasha to look out for you, where ever she may be.

—————————————————

I might just write small pieces in the same universe as this because I really love the sibling dynamic. One of them will be Team Cap & Nat coming to stay and just the chaos that causes, but, like always, if you have any ideas or suggestions I’d love to hear them :)

[reidscanehand]

soooo happy for you reaching 3k, you’re amazing ! 😁

can i request “You’re my favourite know-it-all” and “I don’t think you realise just how many people want to date you…I mean you’ve got a queue longer than the one to get into Glastonbury.” from the prompt list please? i think they fit spencer so well 🥰

Not to Be Unprofessional

RCH 3K Celebration

Prompts: 9. “I don’t think you realise just how many people want to date you…I mean you’ve got a queue longer than the one to get into Glastonbury”; 12. "You're my favorite know-it-all."

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

TW: cursing, Spencer's father dies

Word Count: 1470

Is this inspired by the fact that I work in a bookstore? Absolutely, 1000%. Thank you so much for the request, darling; you're also amazing! Hope you like it xx

Leaving the BAU had been a shockingly easy decision. He still lectured from time to time, but Spencer found that the longer he was out of the FBI, the happier and more content he felt. He still saw his former teammates from time to time, but he didn't regret it, not even for a moment. The only problem, really, was that he began to get rather bored, which was an odd feeling for Spencer.

Then his father passed away. The funeral was fine, if not somewhat awkward. He fully did not anticipate being made executor of his father’s will. But, upon his father’s passing, he received a sizeable amount of money. Saving most of it, and using some of it to make sure his mother was comfortable in her facility, he was still left with a rather large amount of money. It was then that he decided to do something he’d always wanted to do, but had never had the time or the money to make happen. 

He bought a bookstore. Luckily for Spencer, an older bookstore owner, Mr. Bakeman, just a little ways from Quantico wanted to retire and Spencer bought the store from him. It was also lucky for Spencer that you are part of the bargain - or, rather, you agreed to keep your job as the manager and main bookseller when Mr. Bakeman and his wife moved into retirement. It was lucky because, obviously, you already know the layout of the store, the way the finances work, how to order and restock, and how to assist in running the bookstore. There’s also the small fact that Spencer’s pretty sure that, given the opportunity, he will simply fall madly in love with you.

Mr. Bakeman, a very kind man, seemed to be fully aware of this, unnecessarily reassuring Spencer over and over that you were an asset to the store. Spencer wanted to meet you, to see you for himself and speak to you, but that had proven unnecessary as well. If it’s at all possible, you’re a credit to your profession. You’re kind and funny, good at the business part of the job, as well as the bookselling aspect - a good reader and a people person to boot. The moment you’d first entered the store, Spencer could practically feel hearts forming in his eyes. And while you’d quickly developed an easy, kind rapport with Spencer, you make him feel like the awkward boy he once was, rather than the man he’s become. Even now, six months into running the store with you, any confidence Spencer has cuts to nothing when you’re around. 

And to make it even more shocking and nerve-wracking, he’s about 86% sure you might...like him too? If that’s possible? It’s only occasional, but he sometimes thinks that you might be watching him - the same way he watches you. You go out of your way to talk to him, to make sure he’s comfortable and happy. You’d quickly picked up on his eccentricities and seem not to mind them. And you’re so kind to him it almost hurts his heart.

This morning, he enters the store as usual, coffee in hand and newspaper tucked under his arm, which he would complete with the slightly nicer pen in his back office. However, as he passes the front display table just inside the entrance, he freezes, stepping back two steps and looking over the contents of the table in confusion. Something is different. Call it intuition or the result of his eidetic memory, but he knew something had changed since he'd put the table out yesterday. The bell of the front door cues him to the fact that he's been staring at the table for quite a while. As he looks up and sees you walking in, he realizes how much he's missed out on by hiding in his office over the crossword every morning: the morning sun shining behind you as you enter the building truly is a sight to behold.

"You're not mad, are you?" you ask by way of greeting.

"W-what?" he manages to ask, his throat suddenly insanely dry.

"The table," you gesture to it. "I saw the theme and there was a blank spot? You'd missed the new book about Dickens and his mistress and I thought that it would-"

"Oh," he says, realizing what he'd missed about the table. "No, that's perfectly fine, Y/N."

"Are you sure?" When he nods in response, you smile, "I thought you might not notice, but you are a genius after all."

"Sorry to be such a know-it-all," he mumbles, feeling a blush heating his cheeks.

You meet his eyes again, fixing him with a gentle look that nearly does his heart in, "You're my favorite know-it-all."

He’s a tad overwhelmed by the compliment. Most compliments overwhelm him, but one of this variety - so genuinely kind and well-meaning - is a bit too much for him to handle. 

His brain eventually settles on a rather awkward, “Th-thank you.” 

As he leaves you to your morning work, he inwardly cringes at his own bumbling behavior. It’s rare that he closes his office door, but such as awkward interaction deems it necessary. About half an hour later you knock on the door before entering, a cup of coffee in your hands. 

“Hi,” you say, crossing to the other side of his desk and placing the coffee in front of him. 

“Thank you,” he replies, nodding towards the coffee. “You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to apologize,” you cut him off suddenly. 

“Apologize?” Spencer’s genuinely confused. 

“For what I said,” you clarify, “earlier.”

“For what you said?” Spencer’s still lost, a rare thing for him. 

“I didn’t mean to...I mean...if I made you uncomfortable,” you answer, looking at your hands. “I...you...you’re my boss, obviously, and I don’t...I never want you to think I’m trying to suck up to you or anything, but I just...”

“Y/N,” Spencer leans forward, reaching over his desk to take your hand in his, a shock of confidence burning through him, “it’s okay. I wasn’t offended. I never think you’re sucking up to me, I promise. You make me smile all the time and I...I’m delighted to be your favorite know-it-all. I was just surprised.”

You stare at him then, head cocked to the side, but never letting go of his hand, “Spencer, not to...not to make you uncomfortable, but, um, have you seen yourself? Spent time with yourself?”

“Wh-what do you...what do you m-mean?” he stammers. 

“It’s just...you’re so gorgeous and wonderful and....and...I just would think that you’d be used to compliments like that.”

Spencer can feel a blush growing up his neck and hitting his cheeks, “Um...uh...th-thank you, but, um, no...not-not really the usual thing that people think of when they meet me, I’m afraid.”

Without warning and without letting go of his hand, you cross to his side of the desk, standing before him. Hands slightly shaking, you drop his hand only to timidly cup his face in your hands, thumbs running along his jaw. Spencer practically leans into your touch, barely abating a moan at the contact. 

“You can’t be serious,” you finally whisper, staring at him with such admiration as he’s never seen before. 

“I don’t think I’m anyone’s cup of tea,” he replies quietly, self-deprecatingly.

Your eyes narrow in concern, “I don’t think that at all.”

“Y/N, that’s kind of you, but-”

“I don’t think you realise just how many people want to date you…I mean you’ve got a queue longer than the one to get into Glastonbury,” you tease softly tracing your thumbs against his jaw again.

“W-what’s Glastonbury?” Spencer manages to rasp.

“It’s not important,” you giggle quietly, “what is important is that you’re stunning and amazing and a wonderful person and I wish you would recognize it.”

You start to move away, but Spencer grabs your hands, standing suddenly and pulling you to him. You stare up at him, eyes surprised, but warm and soft. 

“That queue,” he whispers, “the one to Glastonbury?”

“Yes?” you reply, looking up at him hopefully.

“I don’t care about them,” he smiles. “Because, not to be unprofessional, but I only want you.”

The most beautiful smile he’s ever seen grows on your lips, “Really?”

Spencer smirks down at you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you impossibly closer, “I assure you that the queue for you is much longer.”

“Doubtful,” you scoff. “I wouldn’t care if it was anyway.”

“Really?” Spencer asks, breath hitching as your arms wrap around his neck and your lips venture closer to his.

“Uh-huh,” you nod, your lips only a breath away from his, “because not to be unprofessional, but I only care about you, too.”  

~~~

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